by M. K. Adams
“What’s going on Turiel?” Jocelyn asked, her voice steady but she could sense that something was playing on his mind.
He turned and faced them, his eyes flicking back and forth between them both. “I want you both to leave the camp tonight.”
“What? Why?” Lyvanne asked, her voice high and agitated. She knew that something like this would happen.
“The enemy could arrive at any point over the next day. They were marching, but that doesn’t mean they couldn’t pick up the pace and arrive quicker than we were hoping. I don’t want you two here when they do.”
Jocelyn shook her head. “Do you really think that we’d abandon the camp? That we’d abandon you?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think, it’s what needs to hap -
“These men are coming because of me!” Lyvanne shouted, interrupting her friend dead in his tracks. “I’m not running off and leaving you all to fight this battle without me.”
“No offense, Lyvanne, but whether you’re hiding in a field nearby or you use the extra time to make it to one of the nearest villages… we’d be fighting without you either way.”
The words hurt. Lyvanne looked to Jocelyn for reassurance, but there was none to be found. “I hate to admit it, Lyvanne, but he’s right. We’re not helping anyone by sticking around where it’s most dangerous.”
Turiel shared a look with Jocelyn that told his thanks without him having to say it. “Jocelyn will look after you, Lyvanne. I’ll send for you in a couple of days once this is all over… if you don’t hear from us then you know that things didn’t go according to plan and you’ll at least be safe for a little longer. You’re strong enough to protect yourself from being found without my help anymore. I believe in you.”
“But I’ve been training, I can help you fight,” she tried to argue but she could see that her words were falling on deaf ears.
“Here, take this,” Turiel said as he pulled an ornate looking dagger from a sheath around his belt. The pommel was ebony and engraved with words that she couldn’t understand. It felt light, even in her hands. The blade itself was short, but looked menacing.
“What is this?” she asked.
“A gift from Kwah,” Turiel replied. “He thought it better to come from me. It’s a dagger made by his tribe for the governing family. He wanted you to look after it for him until this all blows over.”
A tear swelled in Lyvanne’s eye.
“You better make sure you look after that, little one,” Jocelyn said, kneeling beside her. “Kwah won’t be happy if you’ve lost it when you next see him.”
That was when Lyvanne realised the enormity of the situation around them. She might not see Kwah again to give him back the dagger, she might not see Turiel again, all because she wanted to draw the king’s gaze away from Astreya.
“I’m sorry for all of this,” she said quietly.
“Don’t apologise, little one.” It was Turiel who knelt down this time and took Lyvanne’s hands in his own. “This would have happened eventually. You just sped things up a little bit, that’s all.”
The smile on his face was genuine, and for a brief moment, the weight of the world slightly lifted off her shoulders.
“Come on then, if we’re going to leave tonight then we better eat before we do,” Jocelyn said, guiding her out of the hut, swiftly followed by Turiel.
The three ate together for what they all knew could be the last time. After their bowls had been emptied Jocelyn packed an empty backpack with bedrolls, some food and a water satchel for the pair to share.
• • •
Lyvanne said her goodbyes first. Kwah had already head to bed for the night, but she asked Turiel to wish him good luck before she departed. Jocelyn was the last to say goodbye to Turiel. They didn’t share a kiss this time, instead opting just to hold one another close.
“Promise you’ll come back to me,” she said quietly, her face pressed against his chest.
“I promise. Look after her, okay?” Turiel replied. Jocelyn nodded, and with that they separated again. The pain of being drawn away from Turiel again was almost too much to bear, but she refused to let it show.
Jocelyn had sheathed two swords around her waist, and Lyvanne had swung her short bow over her shoulder, and pocketed Kwah’s dagger in her tunic. So they pressed on, neither talking, both unable to tear their minds away from the people they were leaving behind.
Chapter 31
The night came and went, slowly giving way to the morning sun. Despite the warnings from Shri’ook, Turiel had not slept. Instead he found himself standing at the edge of the woods, staring out into the flatlands beyond, waiting for the enemy to arrive.
The crack of wood and the rustling of leaves floated on the wind as the final touches were put onto the defences. Volunteers had taken it in turns throughout the night to work with Shri’ook as they organised. The final touches were made to pitfalls were made throughout the woods, their spiked holes covered by leaves and branches and their location marked by a white concoction on nearby trees. They had even taken to chopping down trees in order to turn them into wooden palisades which could be used as defence should they have to fall back into the camp. Their last line of defence if it came to it. Turiel had wanted to help, but thought it better not to risk being told to go back to his hut by Shri’ook.
He went over the plan in his mind. It was simple enough, but so much depended on when the enemy arrived, and what the weather was like. If the Goddess blessed them with good fortune then the enemy would arrive at sundown. If they did, it meant they would likely hold off on their attack until daybreak, which would give Kwah and himself enough time to take the fight to them. As the sun rose gently into the sky, Turiel bemoaned their lack of luck. The storm had broken overnight, which meant that the sun had free reign to rise come the morning, casting bright rays of light across the flatlands. If the king’s men were to arrive before the sun hid beyond the horizon then it meant that even the weather had refused to grant them cover to move.
His gaze was unmoving from the horizon, but Turiel’s thoughts drifted towards Lyvanne and Jocelyn. They were safe, but even he had to wonder exactly how long that would last with the king hunting them. His only hope now was that they had done enough to win this fight, so that he could find them again, so that he could continue protecting them.
“You’re going to drive yourself mad standing out here waiting for the horns to sound,” said a voice from behind him.
Turiel chuckled and turned to face the approaching Kwah. “I’m starting to think that the waiting is the only thing keeping me sane. You couldn’t sleep either?”
Kwah shook his head and kicked the ground beneath his feet, bringing up a clump of sodden mud on his leather boot. “The rain has made for a lovely fighting stage. The Goddess has been kind.”
“Kind isn’t the word I would use. I bet if you had your way then the enemy would arrive as the sun reached the highest point in the sky with not a single cloud in slight, just for the sake of a fair fight.”
“Hah! If I had my way friend then the enemy wouldn’t arrive until I was grey and old, weary of the world and ready to move on to the next,” Kwah replied as he walked up alongside Turiel.
The two stood in silence for a few more minutes, staring out across the countryside, watching as cattle rose with the morning sun and made their way out across their fields.
“Did she like it?” Kwah asked, breaking the silence.
“Your dagger?” Turiel replied, a grin on his face. “Yes, she liked it. Better watch out otherwise she might not give it back to you the next time you see her.”
“Ach! We both know that many of us will not see another morning sun like this one.”
Turiel turned his gaze from the horizon and watched the ever-present smile fade from his friend’s face. “Some of us will… if we fight this battle the right way.”
Kwah turned to match Turiel’s gaze. “In that case, let’s make sure that we’re part of that some.”
>
The two shook hands and made a silent promise to one another.
“Who knows,” Turiel continued, “by tomorrow you might have some scars to match my own?” he said, running a thumb along one of the magical scars which adorned his face.
“I would prefer not. Your skin is pale, the scars suit you. Scars would not suit me, I have already been kissed by the sun, you cannot better perfection.”
The two laughed. It felt good to lighten the mood of what was no doubt going to be a day of anxiety and dread.
“We’ll see just how pretty you are come the morning,” Turiel replied before turning his back on the flatlands and towards the woods. “Come on, let’s head back, see where we can help out and get something to eat.”
The two made their way back through the woodland, and as Kwah had mentioned Turiel found that the ground had soaked through from the night’s downpour of rain. He wasn’t battle savvy enough to know if that would negatively or positively impact them, but he decided that ignorance might be bliss just for this one day. They passed the defences as they walked: pitfalls hidden among the ground, trees which had been cut down to narrow the paths the enemy could take to advance on their position and wooden palisades as they grew closer to the edge of the camp.
Upon arriving back at the camp, Turiel was somewhat surprised to see that Shri’ook had ordered the deconstruction of some of the huts in order to use their wood for further barricades placed around the edge of the camp itself. It hadn’t occurred to Turiel up to this point, but it was obvious now that they wouldn’t be able to stay here after the fighting was done.
You’ve got to get through the fighting first, he warned himself as the pair approached the Annex where they could see Shri’ook waiting.
Kwah and Turiel had been armed for hours now. Both of them were already wearing their gambesons and each had a longsword hung around their waist. So Turiel, at least, was taken aback when they found Shri’ook wearing the same muddied tunic he had worn over the night and no weapon in sight.
“Are his eyes closed?” Turiel asked quietly as they approached.
Kwah grinned. “He’s not asleep if that’s what you’re asking. Greetings Shri’ook! Sorry to disturb.”
Shri’ook slowly opened his eyes and regarded the others.
“Greetings,” he replied, appearing to take a moment to center himself.
“Young Turiel here believed you to be asleep,” Kwah said, ratting out his friend without hesitation. Turiel thought to object but knew it was pointless.
“Not asleep, I have found little time for that over the past few days. No, I was undergoing something our people have been studying for many generations now called Physical Memory,” Shri’ook explained.
“Can’t say that I’ve heard of it,” Turiel asked as he took his place around the table in the center of the Annex.
“It has been many years since I have had to partake in a real fight,” Shri’ook said, taking Turiel’s ignorance as a call for explanation. “But our tribes believe that something such as warfare is not a skill that the body easily forgets. You only have to spend the time letting your body remember it.”
“Does it work?”
Shri’ook studied Turiel for a moment. “Ask me again tomorrow,” he replied with a grin.
The rest of the morning passed slowly. Turiel finally managed to steal an hour of sleep as the waiting game began, but even then it was restless and he woke multiple times, dreaming that they had been attacked whilst he slept. As morning turned into the afternoon, and the sun finally began its descent from the sky, Turiel started to believe that maybe their luck had turned. Then the horn blew in the distance, causing everyone in camp to freeze. The horn blew for a second time, and like clockwork everyone suddenly picked up the pace of whatever it was that they were doing.
Turiel looked around the camp. He found the gaze of Kwah and in tandem the two darted off in the direction of the horn. At the edge of the woodland they found one of the patrolmen, a young woman, not much older than Jocelyn, who had been on the afternoon shift. Turiel regretted the fact that at a time such as this he realised he didn’t even know her name.
“Did you blow the horn?” Kwah asked as the pair approached.
“Yes,” she spluttered as she threw a scrawny finger out across the flatlands beyond and in the direction of the horizon.
Turiel saw them immediately, the same green and silver banners that he had seen flying before, dimly lit against the evening sun. The enemy was here. Immediately, he turned his gaze towards the sky. The sun was falling, and given the distance that the enemy still had to cover it would be near enough dark by the time they arrived. Whether they would choose to attack immediately or not though could still be decided.
“What do we do now?” Turiel asked Kwah, who likewise had been studying the sky.
“Not much we can do yet. For now, we will sit here and wait”
Kwah hadn’t been exaggerating. After thanking the woman for spying the enemy so far out Kwah sent her back to camp, to make ready for what was to come. Word also reached them that the scouts who had been sent out by Kwah had returned and confirmed the numbers that Turiel had passed on. Some blessing at least, Turiel mused, at least they hadn’t met up with a secondary force at any point.
Turiel watched as the banners grew steadily closer, the butterflies in his stomach gradually turning into stampeding elephants. Shri’ook sent word shortly after the horns had been blown that all the defences had been finished, and later that evening Tublik sent a runner to say that everyone in camp had been prepped for battle.
“That’s it then,” Kwah commented. “Nothing left to do but to watch and see what move they make.”
The inability to proactively take the fight to their enemies was painful in of itself, but Turiel realised that if they abandoned the safety of the woods, where it would be more difficult for the enemy to advance in formation and where the archers would have more difficulty hitting their target, then they would effectively be throwing away hope of victory.
As the enemy drew closer, the gambeson felt as though it was tightening around Turiel’s chest. His breaths became more frequent and shallow, and sweat pooled in his palms as he gripped the hilt of his sword.
“I take it back,” Turiel began, turning to Kwah at his side. “The waiting is very much driving me insane.”
Doubt crept into Turiel’s mind. He knew that there were many among their numbers that were better with a sword than he was, Kwah and Jocelyn to name two. Until now he’d always considered himself at least perfectly capable of putting up a fight. That confidence had completely dissipated now, and in its place he was left with a crushing anxiety that maybe he wasn’t good enough to make it through the night.
As the evening drew on, the enemy became more clear among the grassy fields beyond their woods. Each individual soldier from the king’s army was now visible, and Turiel almost felt like he could see their eyes watching him, hidden among the trees.
“Come,” Kwah said in a deep and serious voice. “It’s time to go back.”
Chapter 32
Turiel wasn’t sure what he would let pass as “good fortune” in a situation such as this, but when scouts among the woodland edges saw the enemy begin to set up a base camp of their own, he considered it about as good as his fortune could get. The plan was on, and as day turned into night Turiel found himself sat at camp for what could be the last time.
“They underestimate us at every turn,” Kwah said mid-way through delivering what he hoped would be a rousing speech to all that had gathered. “They send one company to deal with us. I fought worse odds in the Tribelands of the Shimmering Isles.”
A cheer went up from the gathered crowd of men and women, Hemeti and Humans.
“I am proud to fight alongside you all for this cause that we all hold dear,” he continued. “We may not all see the light of another day, but do not think that means you fall in vain, because tonight is the beginning of a new history.”
&n
bsp; Turiel watched on in awe. He knew that everything Kwah was saying was the sort of cheesy wording that bards would use to rouse drunk tavern goers into a frenzy, but for some reason the way he delivered the lines were drawing him in. He believed everything that Kwah was saying, and for the first time since the horns had blown, he was starting to regain his confidence.
The speech ended with a bang when Kwah promised a brighter tomorrow in return for lordship blood tonight and the Islander was met with a chorus of cheers and the waving of swords in the air. But for once Turiel saw through his words. He knew that many of the people who would fight against them tonight weren’t the evil figures that filled the halls of the king’s castle, but they were his tools for destruction and that left them with little choice.
The camp split into two parties. The first of which was to remain behind, waiting in the shadows of the trees for the enemy to advance. The second was to be led by Kwah and Turiel, with the aim of prodding the snake into action. They had the smaller group of men and women, but their aim wasn’t to be a devastating initial blow, but instead a more mobile and agitating one. Rather than walking straight out of the woods and directly toward the enemy, Turiel and Kwah took their small squad of fifteen out of the eastern border of the woods and made the long way around to the enemy’s encampment. Under the dark night sky, Turiel and the others were nearly invisible as they crept slowly towards the burning torches that had been pitched around the camp’s perimeter. The light of the full moon beaming high in the sky the only real source of illumination. The flatlands provided Turiel with a clear line of sight into the enemy camp. A small number of soldiers were walking around the circular perimeter, but the company were largely tucked away in their pitched tents.
Maybe they really did underestimate us, Turiel thought as he signalled for the others around him to stop where they were.
They had crept about as close as they could hope for without serious risk of them being seen. So, as planned, the group of fifteen split up once again, this time each group circling to an opposite side of the camp. Kwah, being more skilled at fighting this guerrilla style of warfare took the opposite side of the camp, leaving Turiel and his six to remain where they were, waiting for the Islander to make the first move.