The First Valkyrie

by S. C. Coleman

  “No one has general.” General Hasdrubol scoffed and then a smile flashed across his lips. “However, they have never faced heavy cavalry in a fight.”

  “Exactly General! This is most certainly a trap.” The adjuvat spoke up and Hamo shot him a glare in response.

  “Who is this man that speaks to me in such a way?” Hasdrubol looked at Hamo’s adjuvat inquisitively.

  “He is my adjuvat. Pay him no mind.” Hamo gestured for his cavalry general to focus on the field once more.

  “We must meet them, or our men will think us weak.” Hasdrubol was indignant. He drew his elegant leaf blade from its onyx saddle sheath. “Bring the chariots!” Hasdrubol rode ahead at a trot as the cavalry force followed close behind.

  “Hasdrubol! Wait!” General Hamo stretched out a hand as the cavalry broke into a gallop. “That damned fool. Prepare for a siege!” Hamo shouted his order to his adjuvat as he waived a hand in dismissal.

  “But General, Hasdrubol will never retreat.” The adjuvat’s fear spilled through in his tone.

  “I know but the men will. We need the defenses up to stop the Aravut when they do. None of this will matter once the queen arrives anyway.” Hamo turned and remounted his stallion. “I am going to retire. Tell me once the fight is over. Such a waste… Hasdrubol, may the dark queen speed your passage to after the life…” Hamo whispered a short prayer to Queen Magiya as he rode back into the forest.

  ***

  The dark storm of horses rode like a wave of thunder down the mountain side. The heavily armored horses created a rumbling earth quake in their charge. The cloud of dust rose to block out the moon as the cavalry formed into a long line. General Hasdrubol rode at the front with his sword pointed forward. While the cavalry line opened in parts to allow the chariots through, the Aravut marched at trot in a square formation. The Aravut lancers began to lengthen their lines as the Bahl cavalry came closer. The Aravut seemed to be in no hurry as the massive dark horde bore down. Also, the Aravut were easily outnumbered ten to one. This did not shake their stoic bearing as the Bahl cavalry closed in. They were a thousand paces away from each other, then a hundred, and finally ten. Right before impact the Aravut formation broke and scattered. The lightly armored lancers easily dodged the heavy cavalry and chariots. A tenth of the Aravut forces rode through the Bahl cavalry line. They used the holes created by the chariots to pass through. The rest of the lancers broke left and right. The chariots were unable to change course quickly enough and continued in their charge towards the fortress. Meanwhile, the Bahl heavy cavalry slowed to turn and face their foe. Hasdrubol had a look of terror on his face as an Aravut lance sprouted from his chest and lifted him off his horse. The point of the Aravut wedge formation crashed into the Bahl cavalry rear, completely breaking the Bahl line. Hasdrubol lay broken and dying as his cavalry panicked. The cavalry broke left and right. While the Bahl cavalry was destroyed, the chariots turned too late as they were almost under the Timujri battlements. Flaming Arrows, ballista, and rocks set the chariots ablaze while they turned to flee. None of the Bahl forces were able to retreat up the mountain side and the Aravut returned to their fortress victoriously.

  The sounds of dying men echoed through the ravine as Hasdrubol peered towards the sky. The stars were bright, and the moon felt cold on his face. A cool feeling crept through his body as he gasped for air. A hand from one of his fellow riders clutched his own. Hasdrubol looked over at his companion and their brown eyes connected. Tears were streaming down the face of his comrade as the last breath of life left his body. The last memory of General Hasdrubol was watching the graying eyes of a fellow warrior and the still warm touch of his dirty hand. He died under the foreboding battlements of Timujri alone and disgraced.

  ***

  “That is my last friend. I have no friends left…” Hamo whimpered to himself with his head in his hands. The command tent was dark and Hamo refused to light a candle. “I have no one left but my dark queen. Please Magiya, let me die.” Hamo felt a cold touch on his shoulder as he spoke. Somehow the room became darker and the grass below his feet wilted.

  “Your time is not here yet. There are many more that will die before you fall General. You are my child Hamo and you are a god. Together we shall blackout the sun with our might. Embrace your rage Hamo and unleash our wrath upon our enemies. For me Hamo…” Hamo looked up and around but no one was there. The room brightened, and the moon shone through the tent opening.

  “General? Did you call for me?” The adjuvat poked his head inside.

  “Are the lines prepared Hammond?”

  “Yes General, but General…”

  “Yes?”

  “The Aravut returned to their walls.”

  “What of General Hasdrubol?”

  “They all died.”

  “ALL?”

  “Yes, General…”

  “Very well Hammond. Build the siege camp, this is going to be a long night.”

  “Yes, General.” The adjuvat departed, and the tent flap closed.

  ***

  Tears washed the sweat from Hamo’s cheeks as he laid his head on a bed of grass. All around him foot soldiers snoring mingled with the crickets and frogs. A light rain dampened their armor as clouds began to cover up the moon and stars. Hamo curled up and sobbed at the loss of his last friend. He always slept among his men, but he had never felt more alone. Eventually, after hours of quiet sadness, Hamo slipped into a dream.

  Hamo was surrounded by a field of mist and he looked all around for some sort of landmark. He could find no signs of life anywhere. He knew this place however. He was standing once more on the field of his first battle with Hamo. Long before he had met Queen Magiya and joined her rebellion, Hamo was a general under the Bahl council. He and Hasdrubol had found each other among the fog and carnage of the Maguyari invasion. This was the battle field but where were the bodies. There was no blood or screams, only silence. Hamo stumbled in the fog calling out for Hasdrubol. He noticed a light in the distance and sprinted towards it. Just barely avoiding collision with a burning chariot, Hamo slipped and his tear-soaked face met the ground. Tiny grains of sand stuck to the damp saliva and mucus that had collected on his quivering lip.

  “Hasdrubol…” Hamo reached out to his old friend whose silhouette stood just beyond the roaring fire. Hasdrubol’s sharp black beard was the only thing that identified him in the fog. The beard faded as he stepped back into the fog. “Wait!!!” Hamo scrambled into his feet and charged after Hasdrubol. He ran and ran, and ran, until his breath was void of oxygen. He collapsed onto his hands and knees, gasping for air. Then he got up and kept running until the fog turned into darkness. Hamo searched the heavens for a star or a moon but there was nothing. There was only darkness and silence. “Please…” Hamo whimpered and kneeled on the damp ground. A comfortable glow began to warm Hamo’s broad shoulders and he turned to meet the stranger. “Who are you?” The glowing figure seemed to be a part of the haze and the slender hand of an olive-skinned woman stretched towards him. “Have you come to take me with you? Please take me…” Hamo stretched his hand out hesitantly until a sharp pain stabbed his heart.

  “General!” Another voice shook his gaze. Then, Hamo turned to see another figure come out of the darkness behind him. The figure was shrouded in the darkness which seemed to grow out of her. She stood very tall and her fingers stroked the darkness as if it were her pet. Hamo turned back to the glowing figure who slowly faded before his eyes. Hamo felt the cold touch of his queen on his back and despair filled him once more.

  ***

  The next morning the Bahl siege fortifications were complete. The catapults had been steadily bombarding fortress walls during the night, but no real damage was apparent. Once again, the Aravut were formed up outside of the walls, awaiting the dawn. The Bahl lines had been thinned the night before as well. Since the catapults could not fire without being in range of the ballista, anyone manning the siege was either wounded or dead. Massive wooden missiles had impaled
dozens of engineers and extended the battlefield carnage. The Bahl hoplites and mercenary spear men were arrayed in front of the siege camps ready for the Aravut charge. Enslaved skirmishers were formed up in front of the defensive line, creating a mask for the Bahl hoplites and spear men. A reserve of the Bahl elite hoplites, called the Sacred Bandars, formed up directly behind the mercenary forces. The Bandars established the classic Bahl three-line deep defensive line. Their only purpose was to attack any fleeing mercenaries or slaves and kill any enemies that broke through the first two lines. The Bandars had never been defeated on the field and would not number over a thousand in any one fight. An auxiliary reserve of Bandars guarded the siege camp.

  “I do not believe the Aravut will directly charge our lines, general.” Hamo’s adjuvat eyed the fierce line of serrated spear tips that projected from behind the shields.

  “Stand down adjuvat.” Hamo rode out in front of his forces. “Front!” Almost in anticipation of Hamo’s orders the black flags went up from the formation’s wings. The standards were black with a chevron splitting them down the middle. The leather armored slaves strode forward in answer and the Aravut replied by beginning a canter. The slaves left the tree line and broke into a run towards the ravine below. The Aravut left their wall’s shadow and broke into a gallop.

  “They will be slaughtered, General,” the adjuvat’s worried tone snaked into Hamo’s ear as he joined General Hamo on the right wing.

  “I know that Hammond, but their sacrifice is necessary. You have a lot to learn about generalship my dear companion.”

  “Each slave is valuable. The Bahl kingdom cannot handle such losses. With our cavalry decimated, is it worth it to lose our range units as well. Reinforcements won’t be arriving for another week.”

  “The Maguyari will not hold the fortress another day longer and we will slaughter all of them. I will show you Hammond. We shall defeat the Aravut and make history here. The Dark Queen is coming, and these slaves will sacrifice themselves for her.”

  “Yes, my lord,” Hammond bowed his head as the slave line halted abruptly and launched their javelins. The spears caught several the Aravut and unsaddled them just before the cavalry collided with the skirmishers. The skirmisher slaves were light on their feet and took out more Aravut as they turned their horses to charge again. Upon the second charge, the Aravut broke ranks rode down the slaves who panicked and began to flee in all directions.

  “See the weakness of skirmishers. Look at how the fear takes them like lust drives a man. How do you think we captured them in the first place? Pathetic… Hammond, are you ready for your next lesson in warfare.”

  “Yes, General…” Hammond’s words were choked behind sadness as he watched a thousand slaves slaughtered without taking out even a tenth of the Aravut.

  “Horn men!” General Hamo shouted to the left and the ranks parted. Three horns sounded, and their deep bellows reverberated off the mountain sides. Then, bull elephants led pulled by thick ropes and groups of five men came through the lines. Behind the lines of bulls were a dozen men carrying torches. The elephants were herded into a sloppy formation by the fire bearers and long strands of grass attached to their tails. Meanwhile, the Aravut had cleaned up the last skirmishers and were formed up once more at the ravine’s base.

  “Can I give the command, General?”

  “Go ahead Hammond, I will go to the third line for the last advance. The field is yours Hammond.” General Hamo turned his horse around and headed back to the formation of five hundred Bandars. Hammond raised his gold trimmed sabre that radiated the early morning sun beams. He the pointed it forward and the bulls were released, starting a stampede towards the Aravut.

  “Standards!” Came the thundering voices of the line commanders and the horns bellowed once more. The third and second lines, together, marched forward after the stampeding bulls.

  ***

  Across the wide sea that bordered the Bahl coast lay an untouched land known by the locals as Oathlund and was comprised of three kingdoms. The Danfear had separated from the two port kingdoms many decades ago and resided on the other side of the Bjorg mountains. The port kingdoms were known as Furdvik and Ulsgard. The two cities traded with each other and other settlements along their coast but never left the coast line. Their ships could cross vast distances of water, but none believe there was another world. The two cities often sent raiding parties to attack one another but none attempted a conquest of the other. The Danfear would occasionally cross the mountains to attack the cities and kidnap people from settlements. The Furdvik peoples and Ulsgard peoples were very similar and wore cloth tunics with burlap and hide cloaks. The kept their hair short and grew short beards. Meanwhile, the Danfear were very different. They sported fur and hide garments, rarely covering their chests. Each adult male grew long beards and hair. The Danfear women had not been seen ever since they left over the mountains. The Danfear peoples were giants, averaging eight feet in height, and they carried slings, clubs, and axes. In contrast, the coastal peoples were called Hinns and they never carried weapons unless an expedition was called. The Hinns fought with axes, bows, and shields.

  ***

  The Seyking, or ruler, of Furdvik was a man of great notoriety. He once killed a Danfear Ledir named Otergrude. The Seyking was named Gutaca the Brown after he had defeated the Danfear raid on Furdvik. Gutaca now sat in his wooden throne in front of the Hinn nobles of Furdvik. His hall was vast with many rooms adjoined to the great hall but Gutaca was thirsty for conquest. He would lead the first conquest on Ulsgard but there was one problem. His nobles refused to budge from the old ways. He now stroked the long beard the he had grown in the fashion of the Danfear. His wife sat next to him, Serafina, and she was a tall and beautiful woman. She was called the goddess of the Danfear. The Serafina legend spoke of her capture by Gutaca when he led a raid across the mountains. All knew of her beauty. The recent Danfear raids were believed to be scouting parties attempting to find her. She now stood shouting amongst the clamorous great hall.

  “Silence!” The Hinn king roared, and the hall became quiet. “You forget who your commander is!” Gutaca stood and strode into the middle of the hall. “You who cling to the old ways. You who believe that we are not on the verge of a new age. You who believe that Anggeta is not planning the same for us right now.”

  “The old ways are set forth by the gods. Have you taken up the god of the Danfear as well?” A young and ambitious, yet pious, noble named Otred spoke up. The crowd parted to allow the young man to face his king.

  “I remain true to the ancient ones of the Mountain and the great sea snake Braguda. Never question me on this again Otred. I who have slain a Danfear Ledir will not be questioned by a child. Braguda is my captain while my queen is the Danfear goddess Serafina. Do you think that you may challenge me in this way?”

  “I do my Seyking, for you have married a Danfear and now you seek to make yourself Danfear.”

  “If I am Danfear as you say, despite being born in Seutara just north of this city, then would you challenge a Danfear?” Otred fell silent and retreated into the crowd as Gutaca’s voice echoed through the silent hall.

  “It will take months to raise such a large force from the city and outlying villages, my Seyking.” An old noble bowed with a fist over his left shoulder.

  “It will take a day.” Gutaca gestured for the old man to step aside and he walked back up to his throne. “We shall host a feast. A feast greater than any feast we have ever had. All citizens of Furdvik will be invited to my great hall.”

  “We will surely not survive the winter if we host such a feast my Seyking.”

  “Why do you believe I wish to survive the winter, my Lord?” Gutaca sat in his throne once more as shock took ahold of the old man’s features. Serafina sat down next to her husband and the uproar commenced once more.

  The Flight of the Desert Rose

  Eleesa awoke, covered in sand and very weak. Sand had crusted around her mouth and coated her throat.
She struggled to sit up, but her body would not obey. She lay in the sand wondering why she had not died yet. She expected to die soon and once the boy showed up, she wanted to. He appeared like a phantom, morphing from the sun rays shimmering off the dunes.

  “I thought you were a smart girl Eleesa.” She tried to ask how he knew her name, but her mouth refused to move. It was so caked with sand that it glued her mouth closed. Not even a breath would escape her lips. The only thing that allowed her to breathe was the small hole in her left nostril, that sand had not cemented shut. “I’m glad I found you before the desert claimed you. Do not worry girl, I will escort you away from here. We cannot return to your village. I think a port city would be a great place.” Eleesa wanted to tell him that she had never left Numo. She was afraid of going anywhere foreign to her, but she could not resist. Her body was too weak for any struggle. Her head swam as the boy hoisted her onto his shoulders. After a few feet on the boys back, Eleesa fell unconscious once more.

  Eleesa awoke with her face half buried under sand. She was lying on the ground this time. The dying embers of a fire breathed their last a few feet away. She struggled to sit up and rubbed the dust caked on her eye lids. She was very weak, and it was dark now. The only thing visible was the dark blue horizon. The shadows of sand dunes stretched for miles. The boy had abandoned her to her fate. Even if she knew where Numo was, she could not muster the strength to stand. The wind howled, and she could feel frost forming over her body. It was hardening the crusty blanket of sand over her body creating a solid tomb. She started to hear sounds in the desert and her heart began to beat faster. At night the sands became alive. The cold spirit of the desert would seek out the souls lured into its clutches by a taste of adventure: or forced into it. Eleesa found a small bit of strength, spurred on by the cold, and crawled over to the dying embers. There she discovered a staff. Shakily she pulled herself up until she was bent over like and old crone. She would not die here, there was hope while she could still stand. Unfortunately, she collapsed again and was unconscious.