The next two days were a blur. Elyar was helping villagers pack, carts move through the town, soldiers prepare bundles of arrows, helping newly recruited men arm themselves or train, and a dozen other things. By lunch he was exhausted. He had no idea how men like his father did this all the time. He knew it was not always this crazy, but his father was always out helping someone with something. Wiping his brow with his good hand, he leaned against an empty cart appreciating what his father did. He absentmindedly stretched his hurt hand. A pain shot up his wr ist making him stop.
After a short break for lunch a guard approached him asking if he could train another group of recruits. They were young men around his age and the other drill masters were working with other groups. Elyar quickly agreed before heading off to the training camp.
Approaching, he saw a group of rough looking boys and young men all goofing off and wrestling. They were wrestling, boxing, or otherwise occupied. Some eventually saw him, but most of them ignored him. When he approached he tried to get their attention, but they were not having it.
“Listen, I will be your temporary trainer for the next few hours. It is my job to make sure you know the basics so you do not die when the battle begins.” Elyar stated to those listening. But more and more of them were beginning to focus on the boxing match between the few that com pletely ignored him.
“Let me say that again. We are under attack. An army is on their way, and it is up to you to defend Val.” Still nothing. Starting to get angry, Elyar walked up to the two boys boxing and stood between them.
“Would you ple…” SMACK! Elyar got popped in the face by the man in front of him. He took a step back holding his now slightly broken nose as the crowd laughed. Taking a deep, painful breath he whispered, “do that again.”
Grinning, the man swung at him, but Elyar grabbed his arm with
his unhurt hand, spun around, and launched him over his shoulder into the dirt. The other boxer launched a few jabs at Elyar which he dodged with a few sidesteps. When he saw his opening, he launched his fist toward the man. Right before his fist made contact he stopped whispering, “koma.” His sword flashed into existance, the blade pressed against the man’s neck. A trickle of blood rolled down his neck as he fearfully swallowed. Everyone took a step back while the fallen boxer quickly got up and out of the way.
“Útskúfa.” Elyar whispered, making the sword vanish. The boxer nearly fainted as he backed up. “Let us try this one last time. My name is Elyar Edaamson. I am a knight of Korax tasked with training you miserable sobs. We are facing an invasion, and we need every able body man. By the end of our session, I hope you will be able to point a sword in the right direction, and make a decent shield wall. It might save your life.
Any questions?”
“NO LORD!” They answered in unison.
“Good. Now go get your weapons and shields and make two straight lines. One behind the other.” Elyar smiled as the recruits dashed away as they followed his orders. Over the next few hours he drilled them like Master Pyke had him. He could not help but smile remembering all the times his mentor had put the fear of Theos into him. Now he was doing the same. He made the recruits stand at attention until he was satisfied. They learned to form a shield wall which he battered with his new sword over and over again. Eventually they could withstand more than a dozen strikes which he was satisfied with. They learned how to uniformly jab spears through their wall without breaking its integrity. Hour after hour they drilled until finally, he said enough.
The men fell to the ground exhausted. “Now. Only now do you have a small chance of survival. There is one last thing I will leave you with before I go. If you fight for yourself you are a dead man. If you fight for the man next to you, and for the family behind you, you have a better chance of survival. Fight for them, and you will live.” With that Elyar turned around and walked off. He hoped his training was enough to give some of them a chance. He hoped his words of encouragement would raise those chances even higher. He hoped.
Trying to find out how things were going, Elyar headed toward the fortress. Why has the rest of the Century not arrived yet? He thought to himself as he stretched his hand again. I should probably go see the healer before I do anything else. Both tasks were in the same location. Which made things easier.
Soon he was back in the infirmary being tended by a young lady. She unwrapped his hand, which looked better but still unusable at the moment. There were some spots that needed some reapplying of some herb past. A dab was applied here and there until she was satisfied. Once finished, she re-wrapped his hand before giving him permission to leave. He thanked her and then headed out to find Lord Turon.
Before he reached the council room a familiar voice called his name. Surprise rolled over him as he turned around. There, standing on the spiral staircase near the front door, stood Kristiana. Just as beautiful as she had been before he left. That was only two weeks ago. Really? Felt like a lif etime ago. A smile spread over his face as he quietly mused to himself. “What are you doing here?” Elyar asked walking toward her.
Cocking her head she replied, “do you not want me here?”
“Oh, I am glad you are here, but I thought you were heading home.”
“I was supposed to, but after you left Father changed his mind. He decided it would be better for me to remain here. That way news of you would reach me faster. I think he believed you were going to die.” She laughed. He had forgotten how beautiful her laugh was. He almost did not hear what she said about her father. Almost.
“Well against your father’s wishes, I am alive and well.” He said bef ore glancing down at his hand, “well…mostly well.”
“Would you like to go for a quick walk?” She asked as she descended the stairs.
“That would be lovely. I can’t for long, but I can spare a few minutes for you.” He said holding out his arm. She took it sliding her arm through his. Together they walked toward the walls. She quickly started asking questions about his trip. He slowly started telling her the parts that did not bring up bad memories. There were a lot of parts he was not re ady to talk about.
By the time they were standing on the wall looking out over the chaos, he was telling her some stories about Tem. Crazy old man. I wonder where he is right now? They talked for another twenty or so minutes when someone shouted, “soldiers! Soldiers coming!”
Elyar glanced in the direction the man was pointing. Fear gripped him before he saw the flag of Val above the marching soldiers. Relief flooded him. His muscles visually relaxed. The century had arrived. More soldiers to help prepare for the battle. Lifting his eyes to the heavens,
Elyar whispered, “Thank you, Theos.”
Quickly turning toward Kristiana, Elyar was about to tell her he had to leave, but her hand shot to his lips. “I know. You are needed. Luckily for me, I am needed to help the village as well. Thank you for spending some time with me.”
His smile did not show the hurt he felt as she walked down the stairs. Why does it hurt when she isn’t with me? I have not spent that much time with her. Shaking his head he followed her down the steps. But their paths quickly diverted after that. He headed toward the Century while she headed into the village to help families pack.
As he walked, something dawned on him. It did not matter how long a person knew someone. What mattered is how aligned their souls were. He had not known Jerome, Ruzur, or Sanders long, but he felt a strong kindred spirit with the three men. Especially with Jerome and Ruzur. The same went with Kristiana. He realized what he felt was like that. Just a thousand times stronger. The thought made him feel better.
Now it was time to speak with Captain Dunnon and Frem. Crap,
Frem is going to be furious. He is going to blame me for Ruzur leaving. Technically he isn’t wrong. That thought did not make him feel better. Dreading now where he was going, Elyar drove himself forward. He had to do what was right. What he thought his father would do.
He walked a little bit longer before he found what he was looking for. The Century had entered from the northern gate and was beginning to disperse. Tired men happily reunited with their families began heading home. Others went looking for their families. In the middle stood the two men he was looking for. With them stood Lord Turon and some of the other men from the council.
Lord Turon was the first to see Elyar. “Ah good. I was about to send
for you. Our salvation has arrived. And they bring tidings.”
“Greetings Captain Dunnon, Frem. What news do you bring?” Elyar politely asked.
Neither showed any sign of emotion toward Elyar. Captain Dunnon answered Elyar, “as I was saying before you arrived. We never met the enemy on the road. But the Hunters scouted the area. Frem nearly ran
into one of their scouting parties, but he was able to evade them. But the real news is that we know when they will arrive.”
The Captain stopped speaking. Elyar waited for him to continue, but he did not look like he was going to say anymore. Finally, trying to hide
his frustration, Elyar asked, “well? When are they arriving?”
Frem answered for the captain, “they will be here by this evening.
And it looks like the frost will be here sooner.”
Lord Turon looked puzzled. “What frost? Spring has melted all the snow and Val has been getting warmer every day. What do you mean,
‘frost?’”
“Come.” Frem replied beginning to walk toward the wall. Once they were standing high above the buildings, Frem then pointed toward the horizon. Elyar squinted in the direction he was pointing. At first he could not see what theman was trying to show. But after he focused his eyes picked up on a grey mass on the horizon.
“When will it hit?” Lord Turon asked. Elyar looked and saw the man was trying his hardest to see the storm, but it looked like he was str uggling as well.
“Though we cannot see it now, the storm is speeding toward us. My
guess? It will be here my nightfall. The army will be here soon after that.”
Nodding, Lord Turon tugged on his goatee a few times. “We have little time to spare. Getting the last of the villagers out is our top priority.” Turning toward Captain Dunnon, he continued, “once your men have rested and seen their families, get them in position. I don’t want a single non-combative out there.”
“Yes, mi Lord!” Both men replied before hurrying off. Elyar gave his brother-in-law a quick, worried glance before he too darted off to finish assisting.
Over the next few hours he tirelessly helped the remaining villagers gather their things and leave. He was exhausted, and his hurt hand was useless for such tasks, but he did what he could. As he worked, he glanced at the sky whenever he could. As Frem said, it did not take long for deep, dark clouds to roll in. The temperature dropped as little snowflakes began drifting down. Soon everything was covered in a thin sheet of white.
While carrying a bundle of clothes for an elderly woman Elyar saw Kristiana helping another family. Heaving, he placed the surprisingly heavy load into a cart. He patted it and whipped the sweat off his brow. The air was getting chilly, but that did not stop the sweat from rolling down his face. He glanced again toward his betrothed. Unlike him, she was showing no signs of sweat. He tried stopping from smiling. But he could not help himself. How did she look so pretty even while working? It’s not fair!
A horn blast sounded from the distance. Jerking him back to his thoughts, Elyar had to rip his eyes from Kristiana and began running toward the walls. He needed to see if the horn meant what he thought it meant. If it did the army was closer than they thought. The village was not ready. There were still to many people. His heart started to pound as he ran.
He hit the steps and stumbled up them. Once there, he placed his hands on the wall to steady himself as he tried catching his breath. He began scanning to see if the horn was friend or foe. As he looked, Lord Turon appeared beside him. It only took a few more scans before his heart dropped. There, on the horizon, marched a dark smudge. He knew it was only a matter of time before that smudge became an army smashing into their door.
Sighing, Lord Turon spoke, “we don’t have enough time. There are still so many families who have not left.” Elyar looked at him and saw the lines of worry on his face.
“Bring them into the keep. We can protect them there. If we fall, I don’t think the mountains will protect the others very long anyways.” Elyar said placing a hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder. “Here we fight, and if Theos decides, here we fall.”
“You have the pragmatism of your father. Bold and foolhardy!” Turon laughed. “But if I must fall, at least it will be defending my home with family by my side.” He returned the embrace and placed his hand on Elyar’s shoulder. They both gave a quick squeeze before heading off to begin the last preparations before battle.
As Elyar briskly walked back into the village he started seeing Klerosian priests praying over soldiers and families. The priests had their hands placed on their heads while their heads stretched back behind them while they prayed. Others stopped to kiss pendants around their necks.
A bell sounded the warning chime. Panic struck the crowd. Some began dashing toward the fortress gates. Others ran into their homes to gather their loved ones. Still others began crying. A man ran into him as he heedlesly ran behind the walls. A man that was supposed to be bearing arms to protect others was making sure he was the first protected.
Elyar had to hold back some of his anger.
Another horn blast added its notes to the cacophany of chaos. It was louder this time. Elyar knew their time was getting very short. Exhausted, he helped anyone in need. He encouraged everyone to leave anything unimportant and run for the walls. He pushed, pulled, and yelled. Whatever it took to get people to move. Finally, the streets were nearly empty. Taking one more glance back over the now deserted streets a thought broke through his thoughts. A fleeting memory of when he first walked through not a month ago. He wondered at the size of Val. It was enormous compared to The Feud.
A quick smile formed on his lips. But it did not last long. Three bla sts resounded over the stone. He knew the army had arrived.
No one had passed him in a few minutes. If there were still people out there they were not headed for the gates. Turning he began running toward the gate. He heard the grinding sound of steel upon stone. It was closing. He picked up his pace. Panting, sweating, and arm hurting he hurled himself forward. He knew they would probably wait for him. But he did not want to take any chances.
It was half closed when he rounded the last corner. He did not let himself slow down. He saw the gap slowly shrink. Yelling he tried to announce that he was still out there. It shuddered to a stop. He leaped through the doors as they resumed closing. Quickly coming to a stop he placed his hands on his knees panting.
“Cutting it close, eh mi Lord?” Jerome said leaning on a cart a few
feet away. “You were always one for the theatrics.”
Elyar looked up at the devilish grin spread across his friends face. He was messing with his dagger laughing at his own joke. “You could have gotten them to stop closing it sooner. That would have been helpful.”
Elyar retorted between breaths.
“More helpful, maybe. But not as entertaining. I knew you would make it through.” Jerome replied as he approached Elyar. He gave him a big slap on the back before jumping onto the stairs to climb the wall. Once he was ready he followed.
On top of the wall Elyar saw to his right how desolate the village looked. It reminded him of the ruins near the marshes. But he was glad the village ended a few hundred yards away. Less damage on the town, more space to end this.
The snow was still falling creating a slightly hauntingly beautiful scene. An icy breeze brushed past him whipping his hair a little. The flag above them flitted. The black fortress on a green plan waved and swung.
But beyond the village, a different scene was forming.
He could now see the army forming out in the distance. White flags flapped high above the goblin army. They did not look like a horde of unruly thugs. They were lined up like any Koraxian army. Elyar thought that was interesting. The stories always made goblins sound unintelligent. But the one he spoke to on the plains seemed intelligent. How many of our stories are lies? I am forced to fight against something I don’t know or trust for an empire I neither know nor trust. What an ironic situation. He laughed at himself as he continued watching Lyr’s army form. From this distance it looked massive. How did he get such a large army through Korax undetected. He could see larger forms move within their ranks. He figured those were the trolls.
A wet blob hit his cheek. Wiping it away he realized it was icy rain. A crack of lightning flashed through the heavens followed by thundering rain. A horn blasted three times. As one, the army began slowly march ing forward.
Standing beside Elyar, Jerome muttered to himself, “so it begins.”