Adderand

by Rick Dearman

  Bron motioned for Deren to follow as he moved toward the fire. Deren paused. He didn’t like this but couldn’t let Bron go on alone. As a precaution he pulled his dagger from its scabbard and shook his head to clear it as he followed.

  The two men crouched down near a large tree that overlooked what they now saw was a camp. There were five bundled forms sleeping beside the fire. Deren looked at Bron and shrugged his shoulders. What were they to do? Deren thought.

  Bron motioned and both men began to move back into the darkness of the woodland. Deren’s eyes were still not quite adjusted to the darkness, but he saw a movement from behind the tree. He ducked and a crossbow bolt smacked into the tree beside him.

  Putting away his crossbow, the enemy sentry pulled out his sword and shouted, as Bron ran towards him. The sound of swords crashing together sang out in the darkness. Deren knew that the others would soon be on them, so he charged over to assist Bron. The ringing of swords stopped and Deren heard a gurgle.

  “Run,” Bron said, moving back into the forest. Deren ran into the woods, branches slapping him in the face, he quickly lost track of Bron. He could hear the shouts of the enemy close behind. He dropped down to the ground and crawled under a bushy shrub. Thorns tore at his swollen hands and face, but he barely noticed. Hidden by the leaves, he lay trembling in the darkness.

  He could hear voices approaching and saw torches moving thorough the trees. Deren knew the soft springy moss would have hidden his footprints, but in his mad scramble through the dark he must have broken branches. Deren began to pray, hoping that he would live through this night. The dagger shook in his hands.

  The torches split and one of them came directly toward Deren’s hiding place. He knew that he should move , sneaking off in another direction, but his nerves wouldn’t allow it. He trembled and his mouth was dry from fear. In the torchlight, he saw two men approaching with swords drawn.

  “I don’t see anyone. They could be anywhere,” whispered the one holding the torch. “We could be surrounded! This could be a ruse to get us all in the woods to be killed.”

  “Bollocks. If there were that many we’d already be dead,” whispered the other.

  They were so close. He thought he could even smell them. If he stayed here they’d find him, they had to hear his breathing. I could attack, and if I can kill just one at least I won’t die a coward. Deren trembled, his heart pounding, he forced himself to taking a deep breath. Calming himself he prepared to welcome death.

  His mind made up Deren braced himself and waited until the men were turned slightly away from his position. He launched himself out of the bushes and at the torchbearer.

  Deren’s leap carried him directly to the man's side. Stabbing as hard and fast as he could he felt a gush of hot blood onto his hand. Pulling his hand back and stabbing again, Deren’s back crawled in anticipation of a sword. Deren stabbed again and again until he was sure the man was dead. A hand fell on his shoulder and he spun whipping the dagger through the air.

  “Stop boy,” Adderand hisses at him. “Tis me,”

  The body of the second man lay behind Adderand, decapitated.

  “Come boy, we have to help Bron,” Adderand ran off into the night. Deren heard the sounds of fighting ahead. He ran as fast as he could, his blood pumping with adrenaline.

  He charged into a clearing where Bron was making his stand. Surrounded by three men Bron swung his sword in great sweeping arcs. The moonlight shone down giving him just enough light to see. Adderand ran up behind one of the unsuspecting enemies and shoved his sword straight into the man's back.

  Seeing an opening, Bron charged one of them as Adderand engaged another. Bron swung a mighty blow through the air that fell on the blade of his opponent with a clang, causing the man to stumble back under the onslaught. Bron hammered blows down on the man until he was sunk down on one knee. Bron’s blows made it through his opponent's weakened defence and sunk through the neck and into the chest.

  Adderand's opponent had seen Deren. Knowing that the odds were not in his favour he opted for retreat, dropping his sword as he ran. Deren knew that the man couldn’t be allowed to escape. Deren ran quickly as the enemy dodged between the trees. Deren saw only the shifting of a dark shape. He jumped and pulled the man down. Deren quickly brought his dagger across the soldier’s throat.

  Certain the man was dead, he walked back to Bron and Adderand, who stood over the bodies of the enemy soldiers.

  “I thought you said that you should never stab a man in the back with a sword?” Bron asked Adderand.

  “I lied,” replied Adderand.

  To Deren’s amazement, they both began to laugh. Deren felt light-headed, the relief and the realisation that he was alive making him feel giddy. Looking at the two blood stained figures standing ghoulishly in the moonlight laughing was the strangest thing he’d ever seen, but he didn't care. Then he joined in the laughter.

  ***

  They took the uniforms off the soldiers and sunk the bodies in the swamp. The camp provided food and no one questioned them as they travelled out of the swamps and into Varta. They came from a direction impossible for an army and therefore not heavily guarded.

  The three comrades sat by the road and argued about how to enter the city. The fortresses sat on a hillside surrounded by an eight-foot high stonewall. Outside of the wall was the town, where during times of trouble the villagers retreated behind the walls of the fortress. Behind the walls a second wall was enclosing the keep.

  Getting into the town was easy, but they’d have to get past the guards and behind the walls of the fortress. Once behind the walls Bron could lead them to the secret entrance of the vault. They wouldn’t have to enter the keep proper.

  Deren listened to Adderand and Bron arguing back and forth about the merits of different schemes. The main problem being Adderand could only travel unaided during the night. The gates were shut and bared at night.

  “I have an idea,” said Deren. “We could wrap bandages around Adderand’s head and tell them that we are taking him to the healer, then we hide until nightfall,”

  “I doubt that they would let us enter without checking,” replied Bron.

  “I think it would be best to disguise ourselves as,” started Adderand. He suddenly stopped speaking and pointed at a wagon coming down the road. “That wagon is filled with stone,”

  “So?” asked Bron, with a puzzled look.

  “Huge blocks. They be repairing the walls. If we steal the wagon we cannie drive it up to the gates and go in,” said Adderand.

  “That’s assuming the stone is for the inside of the walls,” said Deren.

  “Aye, but the people guarding the gate be soldiers not masons. They cinnie know,”

  “Well let’s do it,” said Bron. “We’ve come this far and it’s the best idea we’ve had yet,”

  “Providence will provide,” quoted Adderand.

  ***

  They approached the guardhouse slowly, after discarding the uniforms and dressing in common labourers clothing. They sat on top the stolen the wagon, the horses pulled the wagon steadily up the hill. Once at the top Deren pulled up to the guard and waved. Deren didn’t know what the procedure was, so he played it safe and pulled over to the guard shack.

  “Hello friend, could you tell me where the masons are working?”

  “Near the keep. Third street down,” Said the guard leaning causally on his halberd.

  “Cheers friend,” Deren said.

  Deren couldn’t believe it when the guard waved them in, he’d driven the horses hoping Bron would do the talking, but when the time had come he’d done it himself. Deren was afraid he was going to give everything way because he was so nervous. They stayed with the wagon until they got out of sight of the guardsmen. Adderand had lay on the back of the stones and pretended to be asleep.

  “Good job, Deren” said Bron slapping him on the back. “We’re in,”

  “Deren lad, find a tavern and park the wagon behind
it,” Adderand said. “Anyone who finds it after we’re gone will just think the drivers are shirking work,”

  “Umm” Deren mumbled.

  “Drive it across the square toward the keep first,” said Bron. “I know a tavern close to the vault,”

  They rode in silence with Bron pointing out directions. When they reached the tavern night was only a few hours away. They’d deliberately delayed entering the town until late afternoon. They waited patiently beside the wagon, bending down to study the axle whenever anyone approached, Adderand pretending to sleep.

  As darkness fell, Adderand gestured it was time to go, so Bron took the lead as they travelled to the inner wall. Bron turned left following along the wall for a few hundred yards, before he stopped and pointed at the wall. Deren couldn’t see anything remarkable about the wall where Bron had stopped.

  “This is it,” Bron said. “Deren you sit down out here and keep a look out. Adderand and I will go and unlock the vault. Shouldn’t take more than ten minutes,”

  Deren nodded and leaned against the wall. Bron pulled a key from a chain around his neck and opened a hidden door. Deren watched the two men disappear into the wall and close the door behind. He examined it closely, then shrugged, once again it looked like any other piece of wall.

  Pulling his cloak around him, he squatted down to wait. The alleyway he was in circled the keep, and in front of the wall shops and houses had been built. The shop in front of Deren was closed, but above his head some light spilled out from the flat above.

  There was no movement in the alley except rats searching the rubbish. Deren was beginning to get nervous about the time it was taking Bron and Adderand. He stood and walked nearer the section of wall where the door was.

  Suddenly the wall parted and Adderand ran through the door, followed by Bron.

  “It’s a trap! Help us with the door,” Adderand shouted.

  Deren ran to help hold the door shut while Bron fumbled about with the lock. On the other side of the door Deren felt pressure being exerted and heard shouting voices.

  “What happened? Did you get the crystal?” Deren asked as Bron finally managed to lock the door.

  “Yes, we got it but they were waiting. Luckily Adderand saw them and we managed to get down the tunnel to the door,”

  “What now?” Deren asked

  “Now we escape boy,” Adderand said. “Follow me. Don’t run it will attract attention, we’ll make for the gate and hope we can get out that way,”

  “Hold on,” said Bron. “I know a better way,”

  Bron lead them as they made their way through the twisting alleys. Above in the keep a bell was tolling and fires were being lit all along the walls. They stopped near the outside wall and Bron motioned them up one of the stairwells leading up.

  “What are ye doing,” Adderand hissed. “They will be thick as flies on a dead dog up there,”

  Bron didn’t answer but stopped beside one of the many notches cut in the wall for arrow slits. Bron moved on from one to the next until he found the one he wanted. He gestured for them to come and help him.

  “Every fourth arrow slit has a removable stone so that boiling oil can be poured out. We’ll remove it and squeeze through it and drop down to the ground,”

  “It must be fifteen feet down,” said Deren.

  “Just bend your knees and roll when you hit the ground,” said Bron.

  They removed the stone and Bron was the first to go, dropping down to the darkness below. Deren looked at Adderand who gestured for him to jump next. Deren climbed out of the hole and held on with his hands trying to extend himself to his full seven feet, then he dropped.

  He hit the ground hard, his knees slamming into his chest and knocking the wind out of him. He groaned as he rolled over on his side and lay there gasping for breath. Bron helped him up and they watched Adderand climbing out of the hole above.

  Adderand let go of the stone and Deren watched him drop to the ground, as his feet hit the ground Deren heard a loud crack and Adderand cried out. Deren rushed over to him and tried to help him stand.

  “Ahhh, bugger. It be broken lads,” Adderand said, as he hopped on his left foot. His right leg was crooked and Deren could tell that it was broken.

  “We don’t have time to splint it,” Bron said to Deren. “Grab his other arm and we’ll carry him,”

  Deren and Bron put Adderand arms over their shoulders and began to run with him into the town.

  “Leave me here ye blasted fools and get the crystal back to the King,”

  “No,” said Bron. “There is a stable over there. We’ll get some horses and ride out,”

  Behind them Deren heard the shouts of men from the walls and an arrow thudded into the ground a few feet away. It was night but the moon was coming up. They dragged Adderand into the stables and Bron opened up two of the stalls.

  “No time for saddles, Deren you take the Baron on your horse. I’ll run cover for you and hopefully we can make it back to the front lines,”

  Knowing that they were at least two days from the battle lines Deren grabbed four reins from the walls and pulled horses from the stall since they’d need spare horses. They mounted as quickly as possible, with Deren putting Adderand on a horse and holding the reins. Bron tied the other three horses together and mounting the lead horse he kicked the stable doors open.

  A pair of soldiers standing outside jumped out of the way as the six horses came thundering out of the door right at them. Bron took the lead and charged down the road. Deren knew pursuit wouldn’t be far behind.

  ***

  They rode all that night and into the next, with Bron using the crystal to look into the future and avoid enemy patrols. A few hours after dawn of the second day they came to the first enemy outpost. The only way through was to bluff, so they rode down the hill like the demons of hell were in hot pursuit, as they approached Bron screamed at the soldiers on the gate to open up.

  “Message for the commander!” shouted Bron.

  The soldiers allowed them through not expecting an enemy to becoming from behind the lines. The three rode through the guard post at top speed, after they had moved down the road a distance from the guard post Bron pulled up his horse. Deren knew they were pushing their luck, there were the flags of a large enemy encampment ahead.

  “I think we’ll have to just ride through, it will take to long to get around and they will be chasing us. I say we change horses and just ride like hell through the camp and over to our side,”

  Deren looked at Adderand, collapsed on the neck of his horse. Sweat stood out on Adderand head, and Deren thought the pain from the broken leg on a running horse must be horrible but Adderand made no complaint, but he’d been fading in and out of consciousness.

  “I’ll put the Baron on the horse with me. You must get through with the crystal no matter what,” Deren said, he turned on his horse to look behind, nothing there yet.

  Swiftly they changed horses and Deren tied Adderand’s hands around his waist and looked at Bron, who was putting the crystal in his boot.

  “Let’s go!” Deren kicked the horse’s sides. The ride was the most wild and exhilarating thing Deren had ever done, the camp flashed by as he concentrated on keeping the horse to the road. Once he had to dodge around a wagon as the shouting enemy shot arrows and it seemed to Deren the only thing in the world was him and the horse.

  He didn’t see the arrows the soldiers fired as they passed, but he heard the whistle of them through the air. Suddenly he was past the camp and into the no mans land between the two armies, he kicked the horse harder and urged it on. Deren felt the pounding of the horse’s heart between his legs and saw the flags of his side. He shouted at the top of his lungs.

  “Friends! We are friends! Don’t fire,” He slowed the horse to a canter as a large group of soldiers ran out and surrounded them. Deren and Adderand were dragged from the horse.

  “We are friends, this is Baron Adderand. We must see the General immediat
ely. Let me up!”

  The men yanked him to his feet and marched him into the camp, Adderand carried like a sack of grain. Deren tried to turn around to find Bron but received a crack on the head for his trouble.

  Inside the camp he explained to a sergeant they were returning from a mission for the King. He must have been convincing because he was taken to the centre of the camp and presented to the Captain. He repeated his story again and the Captain ordered him taken to the healer’s tent with the others under guard.

  Deren entered the tent and saw his friends across the room. Adderand was having his leg set, still unconscious, but what caused Deren to cry out was Bron. The healers were holding him down and pushing an arrow through his stomach.

  The guards held him back as he attempted move over to Bron, he watched the healers snap the barbed head from the arrow and bandage the wound.

  “Will he live?” Deren asked the healer near Bron’s side.

  “Maybe. The wound is deep and he may bleed inside. If there is no bleeding inside he will live,” said the healer.