The Darkness of Dawn

by Braden Michael

  “Yes. I have informed them of the general strategy and our rules of engagement, but nothing beyond that. Only the need-to-know,” said the Lieutenant.

  “Good.” Asher saw him nod, then peered out into the crowd of soldiers. “Andy!” Asher called out.

  Many of the soldiers stopped for a moment and glanced over at Asher right before Andy emerged and came running towards him. “Yes?”

  “Go throughout the camp and inform every unit’s commander to leave this site one unit at a time, in intervals of three minutes. No unit goes in the same direction, and none go directly towards the Furakuhold.”

  “At once.” Andy quickly rushed through the camp, calling out for the officers. His voice trailed off as he got farther away.

  “I want us to be ready to depart as soon as Andy gets back, understood?” Asher said to Lieutenant Francis.

  The Lieutenant nodded and ran towards the crowd of soldiers in front of them. “Get ready as fast as you possibly can!” The men responded by immediately expediting their duties.

  Damon came running from the side, stopping directly next to Asher. “Do you want to double-check your horse, make sure she’s ready?”

  “Yeah.” Asher followed Damon to a spot behind his tent, where the horse was hitched to a tree.

  The horse was dressed lightly, absent armor, only wearing a dark brown saddle with large saddlebags attached on either side. Asher peered into the bags, seeing only a few pouches and flagons of water in either one, leaving plenty of room to store the plunder they would be capturing.

  Asher checked to make sure the reins and harness were secured on the animal. Next, he rubbed the horse gently on her neck and back. The animal snorted receptively. “We are in this together,” he told the horse.

  “Everything look good?” Damon asked.

  “She’s ready. Go make sure the rest of our men are too.”

  Damon ran back towards the men, calling out to them. Asher untied the horse’s reins from the tree and climbed onto the animal’s back. “We survived the village together. We can survive this.” Asher clicked his tongue and the horse began trotting.

  Asher steered the horse over to his men, where Damon was efficiently hurrying them along. All of them were now fully dressed, and a few were already atop their horses, awaiting further instructions. “Faster! Ready yourselves!” Damon shouted to the men, already atop his own horse.

  Within a minute, each of the soldiers had mounted his horse and silently waited for the next move. Most of the men carried lances or spears as their primary weapon, but some carried maces, longswords, or war hammers. Even fewer had bows, with a full quiver on their back and two more full quivers on either side of their saddle.

  Andy had come running back within moments. “The officers heard the orders!” He was out of breath, but still enthusiastically sprinted, searching for his horse.

  “Good.” Asher’s voice was calm and determined.

  Displayed in front of Asher were Damon, Lieutenant Francis, and the nearly one hundred men who sat on horseback and looked at him eagerly.

  Once Andy was atop his own horse, Asher began to address his men. “You are all aware of our purpose. We are initiating raids on the Headlands. You men may not have been told why, so I will do so right now.” The men looked at Asher quizzically, but they appeared to be listening carefully. “King Hiroshi has, almost certainly, ordered the slaughter of the entire Emberland party that my father, the Emperor, led in good faith towards the Headlanders. Yamamoto chose to murder our people! Now, I must imagine that does not make you feel good. It makes you furious, doesn’t it!?”

  “OOH!” Every soul in front of him shouted passionately.

  “I say we return the favor! We make Yamamoto feel that rage a thousand times over! When he kills our people, we burn his lands! And when his armies come to claim our lives, we will lead them back to our own armies and fuck them in the ass!”

  The men cheered, their voices roaring throughout the forest, causing birds to fly away in terror.

  Once the cheering died down, Asher turned his horse around, held out his right arm, and turned his head back. “Let’s move out!” He threw his arm down, lightly kicked his horse, and began moving. The sound of the hundred horses trotting thundered from behind him as they approached the tree line.

  Once he reached the open road and vast field of grass that marked the end of the forest, Asher held up a closed fist to signal his men to stop. “Lieutenant!”

  Lieutenant Francis trotted up beside Asher. “Yes, your Majesty?”

  “Stay up front with me and navigate.”

  “Of course.”

  For the next few hours, Asher and his men followed the road that Francis claimed led toward the Furakuhold. For most of the ride, the only thing in sight was grass, dirt, and hills, until the group happened upon a large wooden sign on the road. Asher could read the text when he approached it and leaned in close to read it: Saito Farm and Alehouse in Three Miles.

  “Men!” Asher turned around to face the soldiers behind him. “Get yourselves focused right now! Our first target is three miles from here!”

  Asher turned back around and made his horse gallop at a modest pace. The men rode the next three miles within minutes. Asher had heard the sea of hooves clattering behind him consistently throughout the ride towards the target, until they began up a hilltop, and Asher held up his closed fist and made his horse grind to a halt. Everyone sat still and silent, the late morning sun beaming down at them.

  “Wait here,” said Asher.

  Asher reached the top of the hill and looked down at the terrain before him. In the distance there were a half-dozen wooden and stone buildings beside a large stretch of farmland. He could make out the distant silhouettes of dozens of people moving between the buildings and throughout the farming space.

  “Lieutenant! Come up here,” he called out behind him.

  Lieutenant Francis galloped up the hill, stopping beside Asher. He took a moment to study the view before speaking. “This is the place the signpost mentioned, no doubt.”

  “We’ll split up into two groups of fifty. You will run the farmers off their land, and collect all viable harvest while burning anything we can’t use. I’ll take my fifty and root out whoever’s in those buildings.” Asher turned his horse around and began to trot down the hill back towards his men. “We initiate the attack at the same time,” he said to the Lieutenant.

  Asher reached the bottom of the hill and stopped his horse just before the men. “Listen up, people!” The men remained poised and at attention. “We are splitting into two halves. One half will be under my command, and the other will be commanded by the Lieutenant. My half will be on building duty, forcing the civilians outside, taking all the valuables, then burning it down. Francis’ half will be gathering crops from the farms and burning anything that we cannot use. Form up!”

  The men instantly went to split into two distinct halves before either Asher or Francis, following their respective leaders towards the top of the hill, split off from the other half by several dozen feet. Asher stopped his horse just before the crown of the hill, and Francis did the same. He took one last look at the men behind him and the men behind Francis.

  Asher’s heart began to pump thunderously and rapidly, drawing short and excited breaths. There could be dozens of Headland soldiers down there that we can’t see, he thought. He had not seen true combat since the massacre at the village, and the doubts and haunting images quickly flashed through his mind, making him question himself. If this doesn’t go right, it’ll be just like the Village. I will see my men die, and even more civilians will die. Whatever his doubts may have been, he knew he was in too deep to back out now.

  Asher and Francis stared at one another, the latter awaiting the go signal. Asher held up his hand and threw it down as he shouted, “Attack!”

  The Emberlanders let out war cries and the horses joined with excited neighs. The two halves charged up the hill and descended towards the tar
get. The sounds of men shouting and hooves trampling the ground undoubtedly roused the Headlanders. Asher could make out the silhouettes freezing in place to look over to them, then fleeing in terror when they recognized that death was descending upon them. If the Headlanders were screaming, Asher could not hear, with the shouts of his own men drowning out anything else.

  The silhouettes got larger and larger as Asher closed in on them. He drew his sword and held it out at a combat-ready position, causing the silhouettes to scatter. As Asher and his horsemen continued to close the distance, the silhouettes morphed into defined images of terrified people fleeing—only some of whom were Headland soldiers. One of them struggled for his sword as an arrow ran through his neck. A woman screamed in horror as she ran past the dying soldier. Elderly men and women tripped over either their own feet or one another trying to run from the Emberland horde that approached them.

  “FORWARD!” Asher held his sword up triumphantly, howling a harrowing war cry.

  The other horsemen joined Asher, roaring into the air with ferocity. The few Headland soldiers who remained alive wised up and began to flee with the civilians.

  “DO NOT LET THE SOLDIERS ESCAPE!” Asher’s screaming voice managed to stand out in the chaos, and a dozen of his horsemen rode past in pursuit of the fleeing soldiers.

  Asher had caught up to a few of the grounded civilians, all of whom curled their bodies up in feeble attempts to protect themselves from the stampede. He ignored them and rode past, stopping his horse just before the entrance to a large stone building. He quickly directed most of the men to ride past and motioned for a handful to dismount with him. Damon and Andy stopped beside Asher, along with four other men. The others rode past and the sound of their stampede began to fade lightly and taper off as they went farther away.

  “In the building with me, now!” Asher shouted.

  Damon and Andy drew their swords with blank combat-focus faces, and the four others drew their swords with nefarious excitement about them.

  “Don’t kill anyone unless they fight!” Asher commanded.

  The four men nodded and tempered the excitement on their faces. Damon and Andy remained silent and focused as Asher approached the wooden door and thrust his foot into it, blasting it open. He ran inside and immediately scanned the people inside. Old woman. Old man. Boy. Boy. Girl. Young Woman. His eyes stopped on the panicked Headland soldier, who held out the end of his spear, his hands violently shaking and his eyes wide open in terror.

  “DROP YOUR WEAPON!” Damon shouted.

  The enemy soldier darted his eyes at Damon, and the fear in his face continued to grow in intensity. The civilians backed away in terror, bunching up to embrace one another as if they were a family.

  “HE SAID DROP IT, ASSHOLE!” one of the Emberland Raiders bellowed.

  The room remained silent as the enemy soldier subtly began shedding tears. The sounds of horses stampeding, men shouting, and women screaming reverberated through the building walls from outside, causing the crying soldier to dart his eyes back and forth between the Emberland men who outnumbered him and the source of the sound.

  “Drop the weapon now, or you’re dead,” Asher said calmly and coldly.

  Tears began to stream down the soldier’s face. He can’t be more than sixteen years old, Asher thought in a momentary instant of sorrow.

  The weeping soldier caved and dropped his spear to the ground just in front of his feet, and took a couple steps backwards.

  “Don’t forget your secondaries,” said Damon.

  The soldier nodded, exhaling short and stiff breaths, reached behind at his lower back, pulled out a short dagger, and threw it down beside the spear. He held his hands in the air and continued to sob.

  “One of you take the weapons, one of you take him,” Asher said towards the four men behind him.

  Following their orders, one Emberlander scurried up towards the weapons on the ground while another grabbed the now-captive Headlander and threw him to the corner.

  Asher approached the civilians who had gathered in an opposite corner, and he held the end of his sword out at them. They stared at the edge of Asher’s blade with abject terror.

  “Where do you keep your gold? Your silver?”

  The terrified civilians gaped at Asher. “W—We don’t have any,” an old woman said pitifully.

  “BULLSHIT!” Asher slammed his fist down on a nearby table, causing an ear-piercing crash of dishes shattering and wood splitting.

  The civilians flinched and most of them closed their eyes or buried their heads in one another, further trying to back away from Asher despite the corner they were stuffed into.

  “Upstairs!” the old woman cried out.

  “Appreciated.” Asher pulled his sword away from the civilians but leaned in threateningly close and flashed his teeth. “Run. Go tell your master, Yamamoto, precisely what’s happened. Spare no detail.”

  The civilians carefully opened their eyes. They remained frozen in place and completely silent. The sounds of the outdoor violence began to wane, but still hauntingly reverberated through the walls.

  “GO!” Asher screamed with every ounce of his energy, making the civilians scatter to flee the building.

  When the door opened, and the civilians bolted through, Asher’s nose was instantly filled with the smell of smoke and a wisp of ash on his tongue. The farm is already on fire, he realized. The short, excited breaths he had been producing throughout the raid slowed down as he was overcome with sadness. I terrified these innocent people, and for what? That we might lure the enemy army a certain way? The doubts circled throughout his mind, making him hesitate. His face must have been broadcasting his distress, as Damon walked up and rested a hand on his shoulder.

  “Asher?” Damon’s voice was with great concern.

  Asher snapped back into the moment, and he swung his arm up to knock Damon’s hand off his shoulder.

  “Find the gold and silver,” said Asher.

  “Whatever you say.”

  Despite Damon being displeased, Asher chose to ignore him and began to make his way up the stairs. The smell and taste of ash began to fade and was replaced by a dank smell once Asher made his way onto the second floor, which matched the dark and dreary look of it. The floor had several blue doors and a dark wooden door at the far end of the hallway.

  “Check the blue doors,” said Asher.

  Damon, Andy, and two other Emberlanders began to scour the rooms behind the blue doors. Asher heard women screaming as the doors were kicked open, but he remained focused and determined on what might be behind the dark wooden door at the hallway’s end.

  Asher kicked the door open to reveal a closet with a large wooden chest inside. He busted the chest open, tearing the top off to reveal several bars of silver. Now that is plunder, he thought with a hint of enthusiasm. He grabbed each of the seven silver bars and stuffed them in his pockets, filling them to the brim.

  Asher backed away from the closet and walked back down the hallway. The sound of panicked whimpers and footsteps echoed from the stairway while Asher could hear furniture being plundered.

  “I found a bunch of coins!”

  “I got me some sapphires!”

  Two of Asher’s men excitedly ran out of the room carrying the loot they had described. Damon and Andy walked out of their room carrying multiple pouches.

  “Listen up!” When the four Emberland men heard Asher’s voice, they fell silent and turned towards him with their full attention. “Go back to the horses and stow the items you grabbed. Right before we leave, we will torch the place. Understand?”

  “Aye,” the men said together.

  Asher and his men hurried down the staircase and to the first floor. Two of the Emberland soldiers still stood with the Headland prisoner, whose face was now blank and covered in dried tears.

  “Bring him outside,” Asher commanded.

  One of the men opened the front door while the other threw the Headlander outside, landing him face-fi
rst in the bloody mud. As Asher passed through the door and reached the outdoors, he smelled smoke and tasted ash once again. The violent sounds that had once shot through the walls menacingly were now all but completely faded. Only a few horsemen galloped nearby, as most others were plundering the other buildings and herding the civilians away.

  “Go tell your masters what happened here!” an Emberlander shouted.

  What few civilians remained were crying and too overcome by fear and dread to move an inch from where they were. Emberlanders kicked dirt at them and shouted, but the civilians did not seem to notice. Without warning, Asher was overcome by the same feeling of sorrow that had plagued him earlier. This must be for a good purpose, right? When the doubts resurfaced, he tried to think of anything that would make them go away. He reflected on the images he had seen in the Artifact’s vision. The sea of bodies and the Dawnlands unifying under the same figure. He would never forget what the Artifact had embedded in him. I will need to sacrifice lives in this war if I have any hopes of unifying the empires, he rationalized.

  “Your Majesty!” a voice faintly echoed. Asher could not locate the sound, but several horses galloped and clanked their hooves until Francis and dozens of other horsemen appeared from Asher’s right, stopping before him.

  “Status?” Asher asked.

  “All the enemy soldiers are dead, and a few civilians that fought back joined them as well.”

  “Good work, Lieutenant.”

  Francis looked down at the Headland soldier, who lay face down in the dirt. “Looks like we have a survivor?”

  “He was wise enough to surrender,” one of Asher’s men boasted.

  “Stand up, Headlander,” Asher said, looking down at the captive.

  The soldier stood himself up slowly and carefully. His face and the front of his armor were both painted with dark-red mud. He looked around anxiously, taking in the large cloud of smoke that shot out beyond the buildings from the farm, as well as the dozens of Emberlanders who surrounded him.