Death Rises

by Brian Murray

  Now several years later, he led his army and would reap the accolades for defeating the Rhaurn. Soon, his army would be ready to march and he would taste victory again. His mind drifted to a building in the capital. It drifted to the Council House. He thought of a position on the Council. This one victory should earn him the right to a seat, becoming one of the youngest ever councillors. He smiled.

  ***

  Dax and Thade waited on the wall. Dax had predicted that today would be the day of the attempted invasion. The skies were clear and blue, but threatening clouds appeared to be rolling in from the south and the temperature remained icy cold. Dax looked north up the pass to see if any of the scouts had returned. He had ordered them to remain near the northern exit of the pass and return when they sighted the enemy marching. There were no returning scouts. He turned around and looked at the axe-wielders’ grim faces as they waited for their commands. At the front stood the man Dax thought would make general. He was a grizzly, huge man but his mind was sharp and astute. His name was Urkin, a commander in the axe-wielders, and the son of an administrator in a transport business. As a boy, Urkin had been taught numbers and reading by his father and also learned about supplies and the logistics of transport.

  His men respected him for he was as tough as baked leather, but he made sure when the time came they enjoyed themselves. There was no give in the man, a true Rhaurn and nothing could be said against the king in his presence. Dax had informed the commander he would be leading the men on the wall. When Urkin asked why, Dax just smiled at the warrior.

  “Do well, and you will see,” the old warrior had answered mysteriously.

  The axe-wielder asked no further questions and like the others waited in the bitter cold. Dax turned his attention back to the north, drawing his wool-lined cloak around his bulky body.

  “Bloody stupid idea waiting here in the bloody cold,” muttered Thade through chattering teeth.

  “Ah, but the sun is out and the sky is blue –”

  “And it’s flaming freezing,” interrupted Thade, astonished.

  “It is only a bit fresh,” contradicted Dax.

  “Fresh, you call this fresh? If this is fresh, I would hate to see cold,” snapped the younger warrior.

  “When it is cold you have to relieve yourself fast. If you do not, you will have an icicle extending from your manhood,” answered Dax, smiling broadly when Thade grimaced. “Then you have to be careful where and what you snap off.”

  Thade cringed, but failed to hide his smile from his mentor.

  From the north, a rider could be seen galloping towards the wall. The man skidded his horse to a halt and the gate was opened. He passed through the gateway, dismounted, and rushed up the wall to where Dax and Thade waited.

  “They are on the move,” announced the scout.

  “Have they reached the pass?”

  “No sir, they have just left their camp and will reach the valley entrance soon.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Urkin, the army has not entered the pass.”

  “Yes sir, I will have the men step down.”

  Dax nodded. He liked Urkin, worried for his men standing in the cold. It would be several hours before the next scout arrived.

  An hour later, the next scout came thundering through the gate and found Urkin.

  “Sir, they have entered the pass.”

  Urkin looked around for Dax, but could not see the warrior. “Close and secure the gates,” bellowed the axe-wielder.

  “Captain Felip.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Have the men stand ready, you know the orders. Have the axe-wielders waiting by each of the steps and the gate, and the bowmen on the wall.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Captain Felip issued his orders and the men started moving to their designated positions. The bowmen manned the walls and the axe-wielders waited by each of the steps, ready to file up by the closed iron gates. Commander Urkin walked up to the wall and peered down the pass. Nothing could be seen.

  From the gatehouse, Dax and Thade watched the man prepare his men. Like Dax had thought, Urkin had full command of the men present.

  ***

  Further north, General Conn led his men into the pass, his heart pounding against his chest like a caged wild animal. Before he saw Dax, he thought this would be an easy battle, but now an element of the unknown worried him. What force was he facing farther down the pass? Conn adjusted the leather strap to his polished steel helm and gazed over his shoulder at the men marching behind him. It was pointless having horses in the pass and his men were renowned for their ability in hand-to-hand combat. The soldiers marched in perfect unison and Conn felt a tinge of pride. He had fifteen thousand seasoned warriors ready to face the Rhaurns.

  Conn looked ahead towards the Rhaurns. The pass was a strange shape. The northern end had a flat bottom, and it widened to merge with the undulating hills and gullies of the Rafftonia. But where the wall was constructed, the pass narrowed into a steep-sided, V- shaped valley.

  ***

  Dax came out from the gatehouse with Thade and walked amongst the men. They were all ready and waiting for the battle to start. He made his way up to the wall and stood next to Urkin, who stared north. Dax shielded his eyes and looked up towards the sun. It was an hour or so from midday, so enough light for the battle. Looking behind him, he estimated the clouds would cover the sun in a few minutes. He warmed his hands on the many fires that had been lit along the wall. All of the men wore grim faces and stared out to the north. All of them had their cloaks draped around their shoulders to keep warm. Unlike the enemy, the Rhaurns were stationary and therefore the chill in the wind cut through them. There were several runners on the wall and it was their job, when the time came, to collect all of the cloaks and remove them from the wall.

  In the distance, Dax could hear the echoing of the enemy marching through the pass. He looked around at Urkin, who stretched and flexed his muscles. He looked at Dax and smiled broadly, his flat, scarred face creased, showing the man’s lost youth.

  “Prepare!” he bellowed, and the men started to unsheathe their axes and the bowmen strung their bows.

  Dax again thought over the battle plan and nodded to himself. He could not fault it. It was a simple plan that relied on timing. He waited. Now he could see the sun gleaming off the Raffton’s polished armour. Dax started to flex his shoulders and back.

  Thade came up onto the wall and stood next to the older warrior. “They will be here soon,” he observed. The sun was nearly overhead and continued to glint and reflect off the Rafftons’ armour. They were getting closer.

  Thick, steely grey storm clouds rolled before and blocked out the sun, shrouding the land in bleak gloom.

  ***

  General Conn rode his large chestnut towards the enemy. From his vantage point, he could just make out the grey wall that snaked across the narrowing valley—the barrier they had to breach. Along the wall he could see the tale-tell signs of fires. Soft southerners, thought the general. His men were in full battle armour, with a layer of wool underneath to keep them warm. He halted the march and readied his men. The plan was simple: They would march the first section of two thousand men right to the wall in a square formation, covering themselves with shields to repel the bow fire. Among the shield bearers marched men carrying long spears. It was their duty to stab at the defenders. He also had a wagon with a massive iron-ended battering ram lashed onto it. This was specifically designed to smash through the iron gates. There were ropes to pull the wagon back and bars, under a protective shield, for the men to push. Behind the wagon, soldiers walked with long ramps that would be used to span the ditch before the wall. Once in place, his men would run up the ramps and storm the walls. It was a simple plan that could prove effective.

  Conn had thought of everything. His men had now changed formation and the first two thousand men started to march towards the wall in a fighting square. Behind them came the battering ram and then the oth
er soldiers with their ramps. It is time for war, thought the general. Time for victory!

  ***

  Dax watched the Rafftons change formation. He silently admired the speed and efficiency with which they moved. Then he saw the battering ram placed on the wagon and the ramps being carried by other soldiers. He smiled. The general had given this attack some thought. But this would not mean changing his plans. He turned to Urkin. “What do you think?”

  The commander studied the way the Raffton’s changed formation, then watched them move again. “They intend to march straight up to the wall. I would think they have spear bearers within that fighting square to try and stab our men. They intend a dual attack; they will charge the gate with their battering ram, and try and breach the walls directly with their ramps.”

  “Any changes to the orders?” asked Dax.

  Urkin studied the formation a little further, then smiled. “Delay the initial order slightly, I think.”

  Dax returned the man’s smile. Indeed, this man was intuitive. “You give the orders when you are ready. I think I will bloody my death-dealers,” he said, hefting his axes.

  “Yes sir,” said Urkin formally. He turned to the men and ordered, “Remove cloaks.” All along the walls, the runners took the cloaks from the men and then disappeared down the steps. The bowmen finished preparing their bows.

  Urkin waited.

  ***

  Conn looked up at the wall and spotted both Dax and Thade standing in the centre near the gates. “I will have those axes of yours as a souvenir,” whispered Conn. He turned and nodded to the horn blower, who blasted a single screeching note.

  The fighting square locked their shields and marched on. Next to the general, the horses had been unhitched from the ram wagon. Men spat on their hands and started to push the wagon, gaining momentum as they went. The rocky ground caused little problems as most of the rocks had been cleared near the ditch. Conn looked up at the wall and estimated there were only two hundred men. It appeared they had not brought any other force. This will now be disappointingly easy, he thought.

  The fighting square was now fifty strides from the wall. His horse started to splash through some mud. Strange, thought the general, it has not snowed or rained here recently. A strange odour hung in the air. Conn looked down at the mud. Suddenly, he recognised an acrid smell. His head shot up and he glared at the wall. He heard a command . . .

  “Loose!”

  ***

  Urkin watched the fighting square lock their shields in a clattering noise. He looked along the wall at the bowmen ready to fire. Turning his attention back to the Rafftons, he saw a gap between the fighting square and the rest of the men. He waited. They were a hundred strides away. The front of the fighting square passed a marker. Still, he waited. The fighting square marched within fifty strides from the wall. He waited until the wagon passed the mark. He turned to the bowmen.

  “Ignite arrows!”

  In unison, the men on the wall leaned down and ignited the tips of their arrows that had rags, dipped in fire-oil, wrapped around them.

  “Draw!”

  All along the wall, bowstrings creaked and groaned as the men pulled on them, bending their bows, pointing their flaming projectile up towards the pale blue sky. Urkin paused and looked at Dax, who nodded discretely.

  “LOOSE!” bellowed the commander.

  A series of whip cracking snaps followed by whistling filled the air. The ignited arrows flew over the heads of the fighting square and arched through the air, leaving long trails of black smoke that criss-crossed the brooding grey sky.

  ***

  Queen Larene, with her daughter Sasha, Cara, and Aurillia arrived back at Teldor. They moved quietly through the city. No one noticed the royal family had returned, but they arrived at the palace where Zorain and Emyra waited to greet them. The queen disembarked from her carriage followed by the other three women. Emyra’s face lit up when she saw the young woman step from the carriage. She was safe and that was all that mattered.

  “Welcome home,” said Zorain proudly, his voice squeaking.

  “Thank you Zorain, it is nice to be back home. Was there any damage this time?”

  “Bits and pieces, ma’am, but nothing that has not already been put right.”

  The queen nodded with relief. “Good. Hello, Emyra.”

  Emyra curtsied. “Hello again, ma’am. I hope you’re well.”

  “We are all well, thank you.”

  “There are many things we need to discuss after you have rested and refreshed yourselves.”

  “I am rested enough. Sasha, please show Cara and Aurillia to the guestroom. Ladies, I will join you after I have had discussions with Zorain and Emyra.”

  Queen Larene walked with Emyra and Zorain to her study. Once inside Larene sat down and sighed. “I am more tired than I thought. Whom do I have to thank for keeping the palace running?” she asked, looking at Zorain.

  “I have had nothing to do with it, ma’am. Admiral Rendel left Emyra here in charge of the city’s administration while I just look after the security as usual. Emyra has appointed new staff for you and seen to any damages.”

  “Oh,” replied the queen, looking across at Emyra.

  “I have completed all the ledgers since taking over as administrator of the city. I have had to recruit a couple more people since all the city administrators were killed.”

  “I’m afraid you have lost me. Please explain from the beginning,” asked the queen, leaning back in her chair.

  Between Zorain and Emyra, they explained that the ship carrying the City Watch and the city administrators had not returned to port when the Dread left Teldor. It sank at sea, killing all aboard. Admiral Rendel had travelled to Kal-Pharina and left the two in charge. New City Watchmen were recruited from Emyra’s other business interests and she was put in charge of running the city.

  The queen paused to gather her thoughts. “So, let me get this straight. We have bashers as City Watchmen and the Mistress is, what did you call her, Zorain? Ah yes, the First Lady of Teldor.” The queen laughed heartily. “It is so pleasing to think that in our hour of need even criminals come to my son’s aid.” She turned to Emyra. “Emyra, do not take my humour as rudeness or ingratitude, I can never thank you enough for what you have done. When my son returns, I am sure he will insist that you retain your new post and title if, of course, you want it.”

  “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “And you Zorain, always and ever the best security for Teldor. I am sure even alone you would make sure our city is safe. For you, a suitable gift will be given to you by my son, from me you can ask for anything.”

  “I am fine at this moment ma’am, and I thank you for your kind words,” answered the City Watch captain, blushing.

  “Now I will leave you two to your duties. I will not interfere, for I have a wedding to prepare. I again thank the pair of you from the bottom of my heart.”

  ***

  Conn watched the flaming arrows arc towards his men, leaving wispy black ribbons criss-crossing the sky. The arrows flew over the fighting square. Realisation struck the general like a blow. He turned to his messenger and screamed the command to halt. But as the herald raised his horn to his lips to blow the command, a flaming arrow pierced the man’s neck. The soldier pitched from his horse, dropping his horn. Then all around Conn, the arrows slammed into the sodden ground. The smell, Conn realised. He heeled his horse forward from the slushy area. He smelled fire-oil. Suddenly, in a loud whoosh the ground ignited and began to blaze.

  ***

  Zane looked up at the scout who had climbed up high by the northern mouth of the pass. He had found a gully near the mouth of the pass where he could hide his horsemen. Now all he had to do was wait for the signal. The plan had been a simple one and Zane had concocted it when marching to Mandeville. As they marched north, he had sent men out to the surrounding villages and towns to commandeer as much fire-oil as he possibly could. The plan was to split the enemy force into
two groups. Dax and Thade with the axe-wielders would battle the men at the front whilst Zane and his horsemen would battle the majority of the enemy on the flatter rear of the pass.

  Zane gazed up again and saw the look-out waving his red flag. He donned his plumed, brushed steel helm and signalled to the herald. The man blew his horn once and the horsemen started to move. In tradition, the Royal Lancers and the light cavalry behind heavy cavalry slapped their shields and the armoured horses surged forward. The heavy cavalry thundered out of the gully first, followed by the Royal Lancers and the light cavalry.

  If all went according to plan, the Raffton’s should be in disarray. Easy pickings.

  ***

  Conn managed to ride his horse out of the blazing soil but all about he could hear his countrymen’s screams. His horse became unusually skittish. He looked down and saw its legs and hooves were alight. He leapt from the horse and removed his cloak to douse the flames, but he let go of the reins and the horse bolted in panic. Conn replaced his cloak, glaring towards the wall, and saw his fighting square had reached the ditch. What foulness had they planned for the ditch? What would he have done? The answer struck him, but he could do nothing. The front ranks of the fighting square slipped down into the ditch, exposing the middle.

  ***

  Zane led the charge into the pass. He could see plumes of smoke rising from farther down the valley. He thundered on. The smoke blew over the Rafftons northwards and this hid the galloping Rhaurn horsemen from the enemy. On command, the Rhaurn heavy cavalrymen levelled their lances and stormed towards the Rafftons.

  ***

  The front ranks of the fighting square slipped down the ditch and without mercy, the Rhaurn bowmen opened fire. The Raffton soldiers remained disciplined and the new front of the square lowered their shields. But the impetus from the following men forced more to slip down into the ditch that would soon become an open grave. A horrifying slaughter began.