The Devastation: Unexpected Circumstances Book 7

by Shay Savage

  They did not dress in armor and only a few rode on horses, but every one of them held in his hand a weapon of some sort. Some held crooked old swords or simple clubs fashioned from a tree branch. Many had knives in their hands, pitchforks, and several were holding either scythes or sickles.

  I felt my heart tighten in my breast as one of them stepped forward. There had been times before when some of the farmers would band together to bring forth their complaints and concerns—the kingdom was demanding too much of their grain or the forge was polluting the water they needed to drink and cook. Normally I would have listened to their troubles, for they truly did not complain unduly, but I had no time for grievances now. I gripped Romero’s reins and set my jaw as one of the men left the line and moved closer.

  “Greetings, sire!” the man called out. “My name is Samuel, and I farm the fields between the eastern forest and the border of Wynton with my sons.”

  He gestured to two lads in their early teens standing behind him.

  I nodded curtly and pointed to the rabble behind him.

  “What is this?” I asked, my shoulders still tense. I could not handle an uprising at this point, and if I needed to make an example to the others with this man’s life, then I would not hesitate to do so.

  Alexandra’s face flashed in my mind, and I knew she would not have approved of such action.

  “Reinforcements, my king!” Samuel said as he took another step forward. He made his way over until he stood at Romero’s flank and looked up at me, his arm held out. “She is our queen, too.”

  And that is when I knew we had a chance.

  Chapter 2—Daringly Battle

  I remembered when I was a small child, and my father left to fight with King Camden against some rogues threatening the eastern border of Silverhelm. I did not recall why there was an uprising, only that their numbers required more than just a handful of soldiers to quell it. Camden had sat on his horse and moved back and forth in front of his men, speaking words of encouragement to them before they rode into battle.

  I had not done that in our last war against Hadebrand. It had not even occurred to me, like many things did not occur to me until long after it was too late for me to do anything about them. I would likely have not known what to say, regardless. There were so many mistakes I had made—from the insignificant to the grave—in my lust for revenge against Edgar. I found at this point, I would give up the fight entirely if it would deliver Alexandra back to me safely.

  I knew it was far too late for that.

  There was only one way this could end now: in blood and destruction. We would either be victorious, and Hadebrand would be no more, or Silverhelm would fall to Edgar, and we would all perish.

  My cavalry was mounted on the horses of Sawyer, and my foot soldiers stood at the ready. The serfs, farmers, and peasants of my kingdom gathered around the horses haphazardly, but there was no time to train them. Even Amarra had joined us, and she paced around the horses as she readied for the hunt. It was as if she knew Alexandra would not be safe as long as she was in the hands of my enemy. The very thought nearly drove me to madness.

  I picked up the reins from where they lay across Romero’s neck and moved in front of my men.

  “Hadebrand has your queen,” I called out to them.

  There were immediate cries of protest though each one of them was already privy to this information. I took a deep breath and tried to push thoughts of Alexandra from my mind so I could speak.

  “This affront to Silverhelm cannot go unpunished. For years Edgar has sat on the court of Silverhelm and executed his will over us through threat of force, and we have been too weak to stop him. He has placed traitors within our walls and poison in our kitchens. Many of you are refugees from Edgar’s lands, and you know of his cruelty to his own people.”

  I guided Romero back and forth in front of the army, swallowing hard before I could speak of my missing wife.

  “Now he has Alexandra…your queen…my wife”—I had to stop and take a deep breath before continuing—“and the child in her belly is threatened.”

  The cries lowered to angry grumblings and snarls from the men in front of me. Again I turned Romero and paced in front of them, my voice heightening in pitch and volume.

  “We move against Hadebrand now, this very day. This is the hour of Silverhelm’s revenge. Hadebrand will fall to us because of Edgar’s actions against your queen, and no one—no one—who fights for Hadebrand will survive. We will not stop until every wall, every tower, every single structure in all of Hadebrand has been razed.”

  I turned quickly and stared into the eyes of the men.

  “Are you with me?” I screamed, and affirmative cries rose from the group. I looked over their faces and cried out again. “I said, ‘Are you with me?’”

  Again their voices cried out but much louder this time.

  “Then ride with me!” I pulled at the reins and turned myself swiftly around. I brought Romero to a quick trot as I hit the road. The din of boots and hoofbeats behind me blocked out all other sound, but it could not block the thoughts from my head.

  Where was she now?

  What was happening to her?

  Was she in pain?

  Was she crying for me?

  I felt sick.

  The pain in my gut when her face appeared in my mind was overwhelming. I was going to have to be diligent and judicious if I were going to be able to successfully defeat my enemy and save Alexandra from Edgar’s clutches. I could not have the thought of her consuming me and keeping me unable to act. I had no choice if I was to move forward, destroy Hadebrand, and bring my wife and child home safely.

  I closed my mind against all feeling.

  I breathed deeply, focused my eyes on the horizon, and I thought of arrows and swords and blood. I filled my mind with the remembered sounds of blade hitting blade, the screams of those who had fallen at my hand, and the thought of Edgar’s head displayed on the end of a pike outside the broken walls of Hadebrand’s castle.

  Before long the cavalry slowed to keep the horses fresh and allow those on foot to catch up. Once they were back with us, we took up a steady trot with the peasant fighters of Silverhelm trailing behind us. I again closed down my mind to the reason why all this was happening. I simply could not think of it. If I did, I could not lead. If I could not lead, I could not save Alexandra. I could fight, however. That was something I could do without thought. I needed only a weapon and strong men.

  I glanced over my shoulder at those behind me and wondered how many would survive. With the serfs at our side, our numbers would be greater than Edgar’s, but the commoners were not trained. They did, however, have passion on their side. I knew well that passion could turn a battle. Still, I wondered if it would be enough, and as we traveled, I thought of the castle walls and the need to breach them as quickly as possible to get inside.

  I needed more than men.

  I needed machines.

  The people of Wynton prided themselves on their inventions, and I could not help but think of the many items they had at their disposal that might help me to bring Alexandra back. They were ready to be used in the previous battle against Hadebrand, but we never advanced close enough to the castle walls to employ them. By the time we realized the war would be lost, we had hidden the weapons built by the engineers of Wynton.

  Now I could only hope that Lord William would consider joining with me or at least allowing me to take the siege weapons at his disposal to help me to breach the walls of Edgar’s castle. Battering rams were common enough and used by any army, but it was the strange catapults that could throw giant rocks to smash down stone walls that I needed. And more specifically, I needed the men who knew how to use such equipment.

  Even with the support of the peasants and serfs of Silverhelm, I had little hope of bringing down the walls of Edgar’s castle without siege equipment. Edgar’s archers would pick off the men one by one as we tried to get through the gate with a ram or two. We wou
ld likely break through eventually, but at what cost? I doubted there would be sufficient men to get far enough inside to save Alexandra.

  I had to get to her.

  Simply put, I needed the engineers of Wynton. If they did not join me willingly, then I would have to take them by sword. This was my thought as we approached the outskirts of the small town and two dozen men walked out from around the main hall to stand at the side of the road, waiting for us. I could see Lord William’s long, graying hair blowing out behind him in the breeze.

  I prayed silently that they were there to offer their help.

  “Lord William,” I said with a nod. I looked across the field at the few men he had, and though I knew they would not turn the battle with their numbers, they were well-seasoned men. I dared hope they were there to join my cause and not to hinder it.

  “King Branford,” he replied. “Stop your advance. I must speak with you.”

  My hand went instinctively to the hilt of my sword as fear gripped my heart. I could not afford to be slowed down by the men of Wynton. A skirmish would only reduce my numbers and give a messenger time to reach Hadebrand. Besides, I needed them—or at least their machines—if I were to have a chance at succeeding.

  Lord William raised his hands in front of him and held them palms out toward me.

  “I have heard of what happened on the road to Sawyer,” he said. “Is it true? Did a note with Edgar’s seal admit to taking a royal child hostage?”

  “He has Alexandra,” I confirmed.

  “And…and she is with child still?”

  I had to swallow hard before I could speak.

  “She is.”

  “Then we will support your cause,” Lord William replied simply, and I felt my breath escape my lungs in a rush. I slid out of the saddle and landed on the ground to grasp Lord William’s arm with my hand.

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  “I am from the old kingdom,” Lord William said with a shrug. “I do not approve of your choice of wife, but that does not change the royalty within her belly. Edgar has gone too far. The other kingdoms will not stand for it. If you give them time, they will all stand against Edgar now.”

  The lump in my throat returned.

  It was not unlike what my other advisors had said to me. If we wait, they will likely join us. An affront to a royal, even an unborn one, was simply unthinkable. Even those who would not accept Alexandra’s standing as Queen of Silverhelm—and there were many in the outside kingdoms who did not approve—would not stand for such an attack on a royal child.

  “I will not allow her to be in his clutches any longer,” I stated. “We go to war now.”

  Lord William focused his dark eyes on me as he contemplated a moment and then slowly nodded his head.

  “So it will be,” he said quietly, then turned to the men beside him. “Make yourselves ready! Gather the siege equipment! We fight with King Branford of Silverhelm!”

  “Thank you,” I said again.

  “King Branford,” Lord William said, “I have more to show you. You know of our siege weapons, but there is something else we have discovered more recently. It is something that may very well turn the tide on these times and end Edgar’s reign over Wynton.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  I was answered with a sly smile and a gesture toward the blacksmith’s shop. Sir Rylan accompanied us as we walked to the back of the building. Lord William directed us behind the forge to the smithy and introduced us to a young, dark-haired man with eyes that glittered with excitement as he talked of his craft. His name was Benjamin, and he had something of great importance to show me.

  “I learned this from the men in the south,” he said, “far from here. When they battle, they use sword and bow as we do, but they have another weapon—they also use fire.”

  “We all use fire,” I scoffed. “How is this of use to me?”

  “But, sire,” the young man said with wide, bright eyes, “they use fire on their arrows.”

  “Arrows are made of wood,” I reminded him, “not metal. They would burn up before they would ever reach your foe.”

  “Not the way I make them,” Benjamin said.

  I scowled at him, vowing in my mind to kill him for slowing me down if this proved useless. Benjamin picked up an arrow from the anvil at his side and dipped it into a bucket of a black, gooey substance. He turned it around in a circle as Rylan leaned closer to look.

  “This is ridiculous,” I mumbled.

  “Wait,” Sir Rylan said. “I have heard of this.”

  “See here, sire,” Benjamin said as he held the arrow up. The black goo did not drip as I would have thought but had congealed at the tip of the arrow. He held it over the fire, and the tip immediately burst into flame. I jumped back, startled from the flash. The man grinned, and his obvious jocularity at my reaction might have ended his life on another day, but the importance of the flaming arrow caught my attention instead.

  It did not burn out right away, nor did the flame creep up the rest of the wooden shaft. Instead, it flamed only at the tip for a good minute before he drew back his bow and let the arrow fly at a straw target in the field. The bale went up in flames almost immediately.

  “What do you call it?” I asked.

  “Pitch, my king,” Lord William replied. The way he addressed me did not escape my notice. As a resident of Wynton, Lord William’s king was Edgar, not me.

  “And Edgar knows nothing of this?”

  “If he does, it is not because anyone from Wynton has told him,” Lord William assured me. His hand went to my shoulder. “We are loyal to Silverhelm, my king. That never changed in the people’s hearts.”

  “I hope what little help I could get to you was useful,” I said. When Edgar starved those who did not readily accept his rule, Alexandra had convinced me to send food and other aid to the people of Wynton. Sir Rylan and Seacrest had also provided supplies, and Lord William knew this.

  “Many more would have perished without it.” Lord William nodded.

  “How much of this...pitch do you have?” I asked the blacksmith.

  Young Benjamin’s grin was accompanied by waggling eyebrows.

  “Plenty.”

  *****

  This was it.

  We crested the hillside that marked the edge of Edgar’s lands. Over a handful of rolling hills, the castle walls could be seen. There was a small group of farms and shacks in the outlying areas, but we passed them by. No one was in the fields, and no one came out to either stop us or join us. I would not kill innocents, but anyone who stood up for Hadebrand would not live to see another day.

  Less than an hour later, we could see movement near the castle walls as a large group of soldiers, most of them wearing the red armor of Hadebrand, moved into place to stop us. They obviously knew of our coming, but not far enough in advance to truly prepare. I could see the castle gates close and the archers line up on the walls as we approached.

  I did not hear them in time, but I saw swift movement in the sky. I yelled at the men to raise shields, but they did not move fast enough. As arrows fell all around us, many of the serfs near the front line were pierced and fell to the ground. Shields went up all around, but it was not enough to protect them all.

  “Advance!” I called out. The slower they moved, the more likely they were to be hit. I spurred Romero on, and he whinnied as he increased his speed. “Keep up!”

  The foot soldiers began to march forward, protecting some of the peasants and serfs with their shields as they moved. The archers from Silverhelm and from Wynton were not close enough to start picking off the bowmen on the walls and in the towers—the angle was still too great at this distance. Those with crossbows, which included Rylan, began to fire from the front rows—aiming for the knights on horseback. The thick bolts drove home with enough force to pierce through their armor, and they fell noisily from their mounts.

  The rest of the archers stayed behind the cavalry of Sawyer and Silverhelm. They were pre
pared with traditional arrows to use at first, but once they were within range, they would rain down fire over the walls of Hadebrand’s castle. I could still hear the rumbling of wheels on the road as the siege weaponry followed behind the rest of us.

  We did not slow our pace, and as we reached the field outside the gates of Hadebrand’s castle, Edgar’s army moved forward. I raised my sword up high, cried out to the cavalry, and led the charge as we rushed to close the remaining distance.

  With my eyes focused on the men in red before me, I was in my element. I rode without thought into the middle of the grouping, and my sword drew blood every time I swung my arm. Romero snorted and pawed at the ground, but he also knew his place in battle and did not rear up or spook. In the eyes of each man I encountered, I saw Edgar. I saw the one who tried—and had succeeded in many ways—to hurt her. I saw the man who was now holding her captive and endangering our child.

  Though she was in the back of my mind and pushing me forward in my attack, I still dared not think of her openly. I growled with hatred as I stabbed into the eye-slit of one soldier’s helm before I turned Romero in a wide circle and ducked to avoid a lance that was aimed at my throat.

  From the ground, three men approached me at once—each holding a mace. They were not in the red armor of Hadebrand but in plain, unmarked armor instead. As the first approached, I spun Romero around and pulled back—causing him to rear up and lash out with his hooves at the first man. The fighter was hit square in the forehead and dropped to the ground. The other two moved to either side—flanking me and leaving me at a disadvantage. I backed up my mount and watched them carefully as they drew near.

  They both rushed me at the same time, and I managed to swing my sword at one as I kicked at the other. It was not enough though the one who met with my blade was injured. I felt the mace hit me in the back, and with a gasp, I fell from Romero and landed heavily on my side. I rolled and pushed myself up on my knees just as my attacker rushed around and came at me. His arm swung in a full arc, bringing the head of his mace toward my shoulder. I parried to the side and knocked at his weapon with the blade of my sword. He came at me again, and my eyes met with his as his mace flew through the air at me once more. I jumped forward and reached for his arm just to slow the swipe, and my sword came around and bashed him in the side of the head.