Legends Lost Tesnayr

by Nova Rose

  Chapter V

  Battle for La’nar

  King Telinin stood on a precipice overlooking the city of La’nar. His home. He barely recognized the castle that he had lived in for the past twenty years. Smoke rose from center of the city. Bits of the palace crumbled from neglect.

  Sarwyn stood next to King Telinin. She empathized for him. She knew what she would feel if her home had been taken over by creatures who cared nothing for others. Her long tresses swung in the wind as she waited for Telinin to decide how he wanted to attack.

  “Have they come?” asked King Telinin.

  “Yes,” replied Sarwyn. “All the soldiers I could find have reported.”

  King Telinin turned away from La’nar and strode down the small hill to where his army awaited him. He had hoped for more men, but what he had would have to suffice.

  The generals gathered around him. “General Thomlin, you will attack the front gate. Keep the orcs occupied. No matter what happens, do not retreat.

  “General Hiler, you will join me in climbing the wall on the far side of the city. It is not well guarded. They do not expect us to come that way.

  “General Jorgin, there is an underground tunnel that has long since been abandoned. It now serves as a drain. You will enter the city through that.

  “We take no prisoners. Every orc must be killed.”

  The three generals stared at their king. What he asked was extremely risky.

  “And if we fail?” asked General Thomlin.

  “Then I hope you are prepared to meet death,” replied King Telinin, “Failure is not an option. We must take back the city. After that, we ride to Drynelle.”

  “That is quite a distance,” said General Jorgin. “How are we to get there in the time you want us to?”

  “We will ride nonstop through Knot’s Pass. It is clear of snow by now. From there it’s a straight path to Drynelle. We must get there within the week. I know I am asking a lot. But everything depends upon this if we are to reclaim our home from this invading force.”

  “It will be done,” said the three generals at once.

  “Sarwyn,” said the king, “You know where to be.”

  Sarwyn nodded and disappeared.

  “Selexia,” said King Telinin, “I need you to help keep the orcs distracted. I want you to fly over the city. Kill as many as you can. If any come near where we are, destroy them.”

  “With pleasure,” said Selexia.

  “Selexia,” added King Telinin, “I know Tesnayr ordered you to assist us, but will you stay until the end?”

  Smoke billowed from the dragon’s nostrils as she considered the king’s question. “I have vowed myself and my dragons to Tesnayr’s service. We are bound by that oath. He has ordered me to help you take back La’nar and to stay with you until we reach Drynelle. Until he commands me otherwise, you have my service King of Belyndril.”

  King Telinin frowned slightly. That wasn’t the most comforting answer. “Very well,” he said.

  General Thomlin waited outside the city gates for the signal to begin the attack. He hoped the plan worked. He had complete faith in his king, but the sudden swarm of orcs crushed all of their spirits. Too long he had sat by watching people die. No more. He silently vowed to take the city even if it took his last breath.

  A small speck of light flew up to him. It swirled around until it landed on his shoulder. He knew what it was.

  “It is time,” said Sarwyn’s voice.

  The speck of light darted off and vanished.

  “Catapults,” yelled General Thomlin, “Fire!”

  Immediately, men lit the oil soaked boulders. They pulled the lever releasing the flaming ammunition. Great balls of fire soared through the air crashing into the gates of the city. Instantly, the wood timbers sparked to life as flames licked them, but they held strong.

  “Again,” ordered General Thomlin.

  Flaming boulders flew through the air again bombarding the city entrance.

  Projectiles from the castle headed straight for them. “Hold the line!” yelled General Thomlin. The Belyndril soldiers held their ground as massive rocks were flung at them. “First wave!” yelled General Thomlin.

  A line of foot soldiers arranged themselves in formation. They held their shields and swords at the ready.

  “Attack!” bellowed General Thomlin.

  Battle cries erupted from the line of men as they stormed the city walls. A team of six soldiers heaved a battering ram at the burning gates. They carried it with all their might. It jolted their arms with each bang. Still the gates held.

  Other soldiers set ladders against the wall of the city. They clambered up them as arrows shot past. More raced to the top of the wall as others fell to their deaths.

  The gate rattled violently as the men rammed into it. They heaved the ram into the gates again and again. Sparks flew everywhere with each thud. Suddenly, men screamed as hot oil covered them and melted their skin. Others quickly took their place.

  Above the city soared Selexia. She darted downward toward the orcs releasing flames from her mouth. Just as quickly, the dragon shot upward. Her constant darting to and from the ground frightened some of the orcs.

  The orcs fired arrows at her that bounced off of her hard scales. Selexia chuckled to herself. She was having fun. One orc climbed to the highest peak of the wall with a lance. He took aim. Quickly, Selexia shot toward him. She clasped her claws around the creature lifting him from the wall. Selexia flew high up. When she reached such a great height that the city looked like a miniature picture below, she released her prey to drop to the earth below.

  King Telinin raced quickly to the wall on the far side of the city. The sounds of battle were deadened by the distance. Only one orc stood on sentry duty. The others were too preoccupied by the assault on the front gate. He waved to the archer nearby. The man nocked his arrow, aimed, and fired. The lone orc clutched his throat before collapsing.

  Telinin gave the signal. The soldiers behind him ran for the wall. General Hiler waved his men onward. They paused beneath the wall and twirled rope with clawed hooks on the end above their heads. The hooks soared to the top of the wall catching securely on the stone.

  “Quickly,” ordered General Hiler.

  One by one, men scurried up the rope. They heaved themselves over the wall and onto the walkway beneath. Telinin surveyed his surroundings. No one. Good. “Take out the watch towers,” he said. “General Hiler, help the others at the gate.”

  The general saluted and sped off with a group of men.

  King Telinin snuck through the passage along the wall with five other soldiers. Another group of six headed along the wall in the opposite direction. The king sprinted along the barrier avoiding detection. He dove through archways and ran up some stairs on the ramparts.

  Two orcs appeared on the walkway. Stunned at the sight of soldiers, they reacted slowly. Telinin gripped his sword tightly as he plunged it into the belly of one. The other swung at him. The king ducked low to the ground. One of the soldiers with him stabbed the orc in the back. The man clamped his hand over the beast’s mouth to prevent it from yelping as he brought his knife up and sliced its throat.

  King Telinin continued on to the watchtower followed closely by his men. He reached the bottom of the tower. Telinin’s boots echoed on the stone steps as he raced to the top. Breathing heavily, he took the steps two at a time up the winding staircase. He stopped when he reached the trapdoor that led into the tower.

  Telinin positioned himself underneath it. The five soldiers circled around him. Nodding to one, he wrapped his hands tightly around the hilt of his sword prepared for what lay beyond. One of the men flung the door open. Telinin burst through snatching the armor of an orc. He pulled with all his strength forcing the beast through the door past him. He heard the creature hit the floor below and groan as it died.

  King Telinin somersaulted through the opening and rolled between the legs of another orc. He brought his sword up slicing off th
e creature’s leg. It fell to the ground yowling. Telinin slammed his foot on the orc’s hand as it reached for a weapon. He glowered at the creature. All the hatred he felt for it boiled within him. Raising his sword high, Telinin plunged it deep into the orc’s torso watching it writhe as it died.

  He whirled around as another orc ran toward him. King Telinin pushed his blade into the beast’s chest as another soldier struck it in the back. The king looked around at the carnage. He callously kicked the lifeless body of the orc through the trapdoor.

  He glanced out at the front gate. General Thomlin still bombarded it with catapults. Some of his men had made it inside the city. Silently, he cursed the strength of the city gates. The only time he would ever do so.

  A whistle sounded nearby. Telinin turned in the direction of it. In the other watchtower General Hiler waved at him. Telinin signaled that he understood. “You two stay here,” he said pointing at two men, “The rest of you come with me.” Telinin hurled himself through the trapdoor and back onto the stairwell. Time to find the orc commander.

  General Jorgin raced through the tunnels. The eerie silence wore on him. Not even the raucous noise of the battle penetrated below the earth’s surface. Only the splashing of their boots as they sprinted through puddles of water broke the silence.

  General Jorgin raised his hand signaling his men to stop. They hunkered underneath a manhole. As he listened for the enemy, the pungent smell of the unused tunnel hit his nostrils. He willed himself not to gag.

  The general peered through the small opening making certain that no orcs waited nearby. Clear. He squeezed through crouching low once on the surface.

  “Hurry,” he said.

  Quickly, the other soldiers hauled themselves out of the tunnel.

  “Head for the gates,” said General Jorgin.

  “General,” said a soldier, “There are unmanned catapults by the armory. We could use those.”

  Smart lad, thought the general. “Take some men and go get them. Aim them for the orcs.”

  The young soldier darted off with a group of men. General Jorgin led the others to the front gates. The city was empty except where the siege took place. The orcs weren’t too smart, thought the general, they fell for the king’s diversion.

  They wound their way through the shops and homes along the empty streets. Occasionally they met a stray orc, but disposed of them quickly. The nearer they came to the gate, the louder the battle became. The clanging of steel and the explosions of crashing boulders pierced their ears. General Jorgin thrust himself in the battle.

  He plowed into a heavily armed and muscular orc. The beast blocked his initial attack. General Jorgin swung again. The orc knocked the weapon from his hands. It picked the general up as though he weighed nothing and slammed him into the hard ground. Air escaped him as he lay there momentarily stunned. He felt a rib crack as the gigantic orc stomped on him crushing him with its weight.

  The orc sneered, sensing victory. He bore down upon General Jorgin. Desperately, the general thrust his dagger into the orc’s foot. The beast laughed at such a prospect. Accepting his fate, General Jorgin lay there hoping it would be over quickly.

  The orc’s head jerked backward as a lance protruded from its throat. The beast teetered, swaying back and forth until it crashed onto the paved ground. General Jorgin wriggled out from under the dead weight. He snatched up his sword. Courageously, the general continued onward into the fray ignoring the pain in his chest.

  The young soldier motioned for those with him to stay low. They hugged the ground as they inched toward the idle catapults. One orc stepped in front of him. The beast was oblivious to the soldiers’ presence. Gently, the young man freed his knife from its sheath. He held it tightly. Suddenly, the man shot to his feet clamped his hand over the orc’s mouth yanking the head back exposing the soft flesh of the neck. In one fluid movement, he dragged the blade across the beast’s throat. The orc went limp. The young soldier dumped him as though he were mere trash. Another orc happened upon them. Before the creature could react, the man threw his knife. The orc’s eyes opened wide in shock as the knife sunk deep within its throat.

  “Grab those barrels of oil and bring them here,” ordered the young soldier.

  Two men obeyed. They each took a barrel and rolled it to the catapults. After arming them, the men maneuvered the catapults aiming them at the battle in the front of the city.

  “Now,” said the soldier.

  The catapults creaked as they flung the barrels toward the chaos. Each barrel erupted upon impact smothering the area in oil.

  “Reload,” said the soldier.

  Again they loaded barrels of oil on the catapults.

  “Fire!”

  The catapults sprang to life as their levers were pulled. The barrels of oil sailed through the air reaching their target. The men shot oil drums toward the front gate until none remained.

  Silently, Sarwyn crept through the streets of La’nar. She slunk in the shadows of buildings. Her gown matched the background behind her allowing her to blend in. Orcs walked past her. Quickly, Sarwyn uttered a spell allowing her to literally disappear. She waited with baited breath as they passed by unaware of her presence. Once gone, Sarwyn reappeared.

  She darted from shadow to shadow as she made her way to the uppermost part of the city. The orc commander was directing the battle from the King’s court. The orc’s arrogance had made them foolish.

  She spotted the stairs leading straight to the court. They narrowed at the top while the bottom spread out. The fairy glanced about her. Alone. She dashed up the steps making no sound. She hid behind some bushes when she reached the top. A group of orcs walked noisily by. Their armor clanked as they passed.

  “Soka lar,” whispered Sarwyn.

  Vines snaked down the trees twisting and turning. They latched themselves around the necks of the orcs. Slowly, the vines squeezed the life from the beasts. The orcs struggled desperately against their assailant as their feet left the ground, but to no avail.

  Quickly, Sarwyn raced across the grassy atrium heading for the double doors. She paused listening for movement. Nothing. Straightening herself, Sarwyn turned into a floating speck of light. She flew through a crack in the door into the king’s courtroom.

  The orc commander stood in the center of the chamber. His heavily armed demeanor did little to encourage Sarwyn. But she had a job to do.

  She floated near a dark corner taking note of the two other orcs in the room. Instantly, she reappeared taking her natural form. The two orcs swung in her direction surprised by her presence. They rushed her. She threw her hands out palms forward. A shower of sparks burst from her hands. The orcs flew backward as a powerful force slammed into them. They crashed into the marble wall of the room.

  The orc commander turned toward her. Astounded, he gaped at the fairy for a moment. He unsheathed his crooked sword and charged her. Sarwyn whispered in her native language. Thick, round vines burst through the floor of the chamber wrapping around the beast. The orc leader twisted and turned in an futile attempt to break free. With each movement, the vines clamped tighter around his skin cutting into the flesh.

  The orc commander spat curses in his native tongue.

  “Silence,” commanded Sarwyn. Her cold voice bounced off the walls. In response, the vines placed themselves around the orc’s mouth gagging his protests.

  A moment later, Telinin burst through the doors. He halted when he saw Sarwyn standing in the center of the courtroom with the orc commander tied up. “How did you--” began the king.

  “You told me to bind him and I did,” answered Sarwyn. “What do you wish done with him?”

  “Bring him,” said King Telinin.

  The fairy uttered another word. The vines followed outside dragging the struggling orc. They chased after King Telinin as he headed straight for the fight at the city entrance.

  “Hurry,” ordered King Telinin.

  Sarwyn and the other soldiers ran swiftly to keep up. The
mesh of vines trailed after them walking along the stone with their prisoner in tow. King Telinin stopped on a balcony that overlooked the rest of the city. It gave a clear view of the gates. He pulled out a horn. Breathing deeply, King Telinin blew on it. The startling cry of the horn reverberated off of every building within La’nar.

  Slowly, the fighting stopped. The orcs recognized the cry of the horn as one of theirs. Gradually, all eyes turned toward King Telinin.

  “I have your commander,” he shouted.

  Sarwyn brought the orc leader forth.

  “His fate rests with me,” said King Telinin.

  While the orcs stared aghast at the fate of their commander, the soldiers of Belyndril snuck away from the fray. They ran for the hills or the upper levels of the city. Distracted, the orcs paid no heed.

  “This is our city,” yelled King Telinin, “This is our land. And we are taking it back.” He dragged his knife across the orc commander’s throat. Blood ran over his wrist. With a forceful kick, he shoved the lifeless body of the orc over the ledge. It splattered unmoving onto the ground. As Tesnayr predicted, the other orcs did not move. Without a leader they had no direction.

  “Now!” yelled King Telinin.

  Hundreds of flaming arrows blackened the sky as they arced through the air. They whistled as they flew landing among the still orcs. Instantly, flames burst to life. They leaped and lunged spreading across the oil soaked stone.

  Bloodcurdling cries emanated from the orcs as they caught fire. The odor of burning flesh filled the air. They screamed and ran in an effort to flee the inferno. Some orcs managed to escape the flames and headed for the trees.

  A dark shape darted through the sky. It hovered a few feet above the ground. Within seconds, Selexia was upon the fleeing orcs. Flames burst from her mouth as she breathed fire on them. Orcs ran in every direction. Their futile efforts did little to save them. Selexia snatched them in her talons squishing their soft bodies.

  From his vantage point, King Telinin watched the destruction. He felt no pity for the orcs as they died a painful death.