Then Sheabor saw something that made his heart sink. Across the other side of the ravine was Straiah slumped down against a stone wall, two arrows in his chest. Sheabor looked around frantically for a way to cross, having only one option. He'd have to climb across. Sheabor sheathed his sword and grabbed hold of the rock, traversing slowly and with great difficulty in his plated armor.
When he had gotten halfway across the distance, now hovering over a far drop, he saw a black form in his periphery and glanced to see a warrior with drawn bow. Sheabor closed his eyes and grabbed hold of the rock with all his might. But the warrior suddenly changed his aim and the arrow sailed past Sheabor. A second arrow from the other side came across, forcing the warrior to take cover.
Sheabor moved as quickly as he could manage, the Melanorian warrior supporting him with a volley of arrows. Jumping down to solid ground on the other side, he unsheathed his sword and made for the warrior, who had an arrow trained on him. But Sheabor moved low behind his shield, closing the distance and hearing an arrow pop against it just as he neared the warrior's position.
Sheabor dropped his shield beside him and swung his sword, which the elite blocked. Then the two warriors locked swords for long moments. As they did, Sheabor saw another warrior standing on the boulder above them, arrow poised to strike. Sheabor traded blows with the warrior he sparred with, until, ducking a blow and dropping his sword, he quickly unsheathed his hammer.
Then swirling in a full circle, he struck the edge of the boulder beside them, cleaving a chunk out of it, sending it into the face of the warrior he sparred with, who staggered back until a second blow of the hammer made an end of him. The hammer blow had also sent the warrior who stood atop the boulder off balance, and his arrow went wide of Sheabor, who quickly sprinted away, barely dodging a second arrow.
Sheabor ran over to his friend and slid to the ground, Straiah opening his eyes and turning his head. He was still alive! Straiah lifted his hand and Sheabor took it in his own.
“Try not to move.”
“I didn't know...”
“Don't speak. You saved us all, my friend.”
Straiah nodded, his breathing labored.
“Someone find some bandages!” Sheabor yelled to the air.
But the battle was still in full swing.
“Sheabor,” Straiah said.
“Don't speak. Save your strength.”
“You must listen,” Straiah said. “You must return to the city. You need to leave me and go.”
“No,” Sheabor said. “We're taking you with us. Just hold on for a little while.”
“No,” Straiah said and winced in great pain. “The city...will be destroyed.”
“But we've defeated the forces of Corcoran,” Sheabor said.
Straiah shook his head.
“Mercenaries...from Kester...they hired them...paid them gold.”
Sheabor was struck by the declaration.
“Tell Estrien...tell her she was right...tell her...I'm sorry...I didn't see it.”
“You will tell her yourself, my friend. Don't give up.”
A hand came down on Sheabor's shoulder.
“Go,” said the new arrival. “I will attend him.”
Sheabor looked up in great surprise to see Gwaren standing there. Where had he come from? Gwaren must have been shadowing them this whole time. But Sheabor was slow to leave the company of his friend and Gwaren pulled him up by his shoulder plates.
“Go!” Gwaren commanded.
“We will not forget your courage,” Sheabor said and turned.
Then he darted back toward the ravine, the sounds of battle growing louder. The Melanorians were still trading arrows with Corcoran's elites but were gaining ground on them. And somewhere in the mix, Drogan roared as his broadsword dealt furious blows.
“Drogan!” he screamed into the air. “To me!”
Then Sheabor fled back toward the horses, grabbing those nearby and telling them to return to the alliance city. Within minutes, half a dozen Melanorians along with Drogan had rendezvoused back at the horses.
“The battle is not yet through!” Drogan roared.
“Straiah says the alliance city will be attacked by mercenaries. We make for the city with all speed. The power of the elites has been broken from these lands.”
And with that, Sheabor set off, glancing back to the highlands with a streak of worry for Straiah. Gwaren bent down beside him and looked him over. One of the arrows had passed just under his collar bone, tearing through a significant amount of muscle, but hadn't hit anything vital. The other arrow was lodged inside of Straiah's chest and Gwaren couldn't tell how deeply it had penetrated or if it had damaged his lung. Gwaren took Straiah by the hand.
“The arrow in your chest is embedded between your ribs, making it very painful to breathe. If the arrow has penetrated your lung, you'll most certainly die. If not, I can seal the wound with a heated sword after removing the arrow. But I don't have anything here for a fire. We'll need to move west toward the northern tip of Espion Forest. If you can make it that far, you may stand a chance. Your body may give out along the way. You have to stay conscious.”
Straiah nodded and clenched his jaw tightly. Part of him wanted to give up the fight. He could feel the soothing lull of sleep just behind the pain, beckoning to him. But the thought of seeing Estrien again, if only one last time, spurred him onward.
The Battle For the Alliance City
The battle cry rang out through the early morning air, the people of the alliance city scrambling. None were prepared for battle, nor had armor to defend themselves with. Baron turned to Ariadra, grabbing her hands tightly in his.
“Stay back,” he said. “You and the others can bring the wounded to the healers.”
Ariadra nodded and Baron made for the wall to find Bowen. People were running in every direction and even though Baron knew this moment would come, it still felt so unreal. Bowen was already standing in the middle of the wall, his gaze pointed outward and Baron came up beside him. Out in the plains, over a league away, a force was marching toward them, at least a hundred mounted riders, with footmen and archers beside.
Bowen began organizing the fighting men into ranks, a hundred archers lining up behind the wall and footmen with swords atop the wall. Others were handed long wooden pikes to repel any who sought to scale the wall. Baron grabbed one as did many others, who had yet to find a weapon. Then Baron glanced to Bowen, whose face was stone cold as he watched the gathering army. He had seen much of battle and Baron was glad for it.
“Do exactly as I say,” Bowen shouted suddenly. “When I tell you to drop, drop immediately to the ground and roll toward cover. We have no shields. We must use the natural cover around us. Fire when I command.”
Then they waited long minutes, watching the mobilizing force draw near. None spoke and Bowen began to walk the wall, making sure his men were ready.
“Look at the enemy!” Bowen yelled, sword pointed at them. “They were told we would not be prepared for battle. They can see now that they were very wrong. They are mercenaries, so they won't fight to the last man. Let us show them that the price is too dear to take this city.”
A roar went up from the warriors and it was remarkable to Baron that so many peoples come from so many lands were now willing to fight and die for one another, here in this place. But would they win the day? The enemy forces came to a halt in the field not far from the city, the horsemen in front obscuring the numbers who followed behind.
“Load the catapults!” Bowen shouted. “Archers, make ready.”
The metal wheels of the catapults turned with loud clanks and Bowen glanced to Baron with a smile.
“We probably should have test fired those a time or two.”
That was a good point. As if Baron didn't have enough to worry about. If the catapults failed, or worse, if they misfired at an improper angle, they could send a rock straight into the back of the wall, instead of over their heads. They would find out soon enou
gh.
Moments passed by like hours. What were they waiting for? But suddenly, with a loud roar, the horsemen burst forward as one.
“Catapults, fire!” Bowen yelled. “Archers, fire!”
The locks of the catapults released with a loud snap, but the far right one let out a loud grinding noise of metal on metal. It raised slowly and shot its stone just a few feet, directly behind their archers. Bowen clenched his jaw. That could have been disastrous. The other rocks sailed over their heads landing in the midst of the enemy horsemen who seemed more than a little startled at the unexpected display of force from the city.
Arrows sailed into the sky and Baron saw the enemy archers also loose a volley, which would reach the city right when the horsemen arrived.
“Drop!” Bowen commanded. “Archers, to the wall!”
Baron dropped to the floor of the wall and rolled to the front where he had built some minimal shielding. Then arrows rained down all around them amid yells as many of the enemy arrows found their marks. Two arrows landed just on either side of Baron, who pushed himself up to stand, but was quickly pulled back down by Bowen.
“Stay low!” Bowen yelled.
Just then, Baron saw dozens of short spears sail overhead from the horsemen, some hitting those on the wall and the men operating the catapults. Bowen jumped to his feet.
“Catapults, load! Archers, make ready!”
The enemy archers sent another volley into the sky.
“Fire when ready!” Bowen shouted. “Then take cover!”
Baron struck out at one of the horsemen with his pike, who was just out of reach, and he grabbed the tip of Baron's pike, nearly pulling him forward over the wall. But Bowen grabbed the back of Baron's tunic, steadying him until the horsemen let go. The catapults fired and the rocks sailed overhead, along with a volley of arrows.
“Drop and take cover!” Bowen yelled.
A volley of enemy arrows sailed down, striking many of their soldiers. But as Baron and Bowen arose, they quickly dropped again. For the mercenary horsemen were holding crossbows pointed straight at any foolish enough to be still standing along the wall. Bowen cursed as he laid there, the mercenaries effectively pinning them down. Once the enemy footmen arrived, they'd scale the wall while the horsemen covered them from behind with crossbows.
“Archers and catapults make ready!” Bowen shouted from the floor of the wall. “Soldiers on the wall stay down! Archers and catapults, fire at will!”
The enemy footmen arrived at the wall, sliding through the wooden spikes and using ladders to climb the short distance. Baron turned to Bowen, who lay calmly on the floor, while Baron himself was frantic. Were they going to let the footmen climb unchallenged?
Baron saw the head of a mercenary warrior pop up above the top of the wall just behind Bowen. Baron's wide eyes must have signaled him, for Bowen shot his eyes round and then kicked the warrior squarely in the helm with his boot, sending him sailing down. More warriors emerged, while Baron and Bowen and the rest of their warriors still took cover atop the wall. But with a yell, Bowen suddenly sprang upward and engaged the nearest warrior.
“Engage!”
The rest of the warriors did likewise and though the horsemen in the field shot their crossbows, many of the bolts sailed wide now that their own men were in close combat with the alliance city soldiers. Baron thrust his pike at a warrior still climbing a ladder, catching him in the side and sending him to the ground. The sounds of battle erupted from all around. The archers and catapults for the alliance city fired volley after volley into the field, hitting enemy archers, footmen and riders and dwindling their numbers.
Bowen was grappling sword on sword with an enemy footman at the edge of the wall. But Bowen had better positioning and threw the enemy's sword back, then struck him with the hilt of his own, and he fell from the wall into his comrades below. Bowen took a step forward to engage another but quickly darted back and dropped as an enemy crossbow bolt whizzed narrowly overhead.
As he arose, the warrior was already upon him, striking down powerfully while Bowen was still recovering. Bowen blocked the blow but it knocked him down and into the feet of another enemy who turned and swung downward. With nowhere to maneuver, he raised his sword, blocking the blow weakly, his own sword tip striking the ground just beside his head.
Rearing up for another strike, Bowen's eyes went wide. He was out of options. But two other warriors locked in combat hit the back of the man standing over Bowen, sending him forward. Bowen raised his own foot, tripping the warrior, who landed with a thud atop the wall. Then Bowen arose, this time with the advantage.
Baron, meanwhile, did what he could to support his own warriors and fend off the footmen pouring up the ladders. They had already killed more than a hundred enemy mercenaries but more poured forward in a seemingly unquenchable wave. They were being overrun and would soon have to sound the retreat.
Baron thrust his pike at a warrior in front of him. The warrior dodged to one side and hooked Baron's pike under his arm, swinging at Baron with his sword, who narrowly ducked the strike. The warrior pulled the spike toward him, and Baron with it, who held tightly. Careening forward, Baron was met with a hilt to the temple, his world spinning as he hit the ground with a hard thud.
Sounds grew dull but he thought he heard a voice calling his name. He couldn't open his eyes, though he could sense a form now hovering over him. Baron prepared for the end. There was little he could do. But as he opened his eyes to see a sword poised to strike, he slapped the palm of his hand between the warrior's feet, sending a shock of power into the stone, which cracked it and threw the warrior off balance into some others. The crack ran clean across the wall, twenty feet and Bowen glanced to him with a smile.
A pair of nearby enemy soldiers took note of what Baron had done and came over to him to grab him. Baron rolled free from the wall, burying his hand in the stone to help him fall more gracefully into the city.
“Soldiers, fall back!” Bowen yelled.
Baron was now among the alliance archers and grabbed one of the spears on the ground thrown by one of the mercenary horsemen. The soldiers for the alliance city began hopping down from the wall, pursued closely by the foot-soldiers of the mercenaries. Archers for the alliance city took aim to thin down the enemy forces but the catapults were now useless. If they could hold them here, they could stand a chance. If not, the alliance city would surely fall. Their only chance was to defeat the foot-soldiers while they were separated briefly from the archers and horsemen on the other side of the wall. Bowen ran a short distance and then turned quickly round.
“Hold them here!” he yelled.
Alliance archers continued to loose their arrows. And though they found their marks, the foot-soldiers kept advancing. Soon they had reengaged Bowen and the others who had formed a thin line against the onslaught. The two forces met with a mighty crash and for many moments, the battle seemed at a standstill. But the mercenary forces were superior fighters and better armored, and Baron knew they didn't have a chance at winning this battle.
“Baron! You and the others retreat to the mountain!” Bowen yelled.
Baron's heart sank. There were caves within the mountain that Baron and the rest could seek refuge in and seal behind them but Bowen and the others would surely perish. And the mercenaries could easily wait them out. It was a horrible last option. Coming face to face with it, he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't abandon the city, leave Bowen and all the wounded behind just to save himself. Baron shook his head at Bowen and stood his ground.
Baron sprang forward with his spear and plunged into the fray of battle with a yell. There was a pair of mercenaries battling one of the alliance soldiers. Baron lunged at one of them with his spear and caught him in the side. He had injured him, but the man grabbed the spear with his free arm and swung at Baron with his sword. Baron jumped back to avoid the swing and pulled the spear free from the warrior's side.
The warrior advanced against him, holding
his side, and swinging his sword. Baron blocked with his spear, but the blow cleaved the tip of it right off. Baron ducked the next blow and blocked a third. But his weapon was now useless for attack. Baron retreated from the man and grabbed a nearby sword on the ground beside a fallen warrior.
Baron raised his sword and blocked an incoming blow, which knocked him down, but with his free hand, he softened the foundation around the man's legs, burying them within it. Enraged, the warrior sliced at Baron, catching Baron in the shoulder with the tip of his sword. But Baron stood to his feet at the warrior struggled in vain to free himself. Baron smiled. He had Blair to thank for that trick.
Soon, enemy archers climbed atop the wall, crouching low and taking aim at the alliance archers, who traded volleys with them.
“Fall back!” Bowen called out yet again.
The alliance forces began to retreat. As Baron turned to go, a pang of terror swept through his heart. Ariadra. He needed to find her. She would be near the medical tent, helping the healers from Ogrindal. Baron broke and made for that area. He would find her and they would run. He didn't know where but it didn't matter now.
The mercenaries were just behind them. Baron felt a powerful hand on his shoulder grab him and he struggled to get free, pushing the hand from him and landing on the stone foundation with a hard thud.
“Baron!” yelled the voice of Bowen from nearby.
Two mercenaries were now standing over Baron, both with swords pointed at him. Baron held his hands up instinctively. The rest were fleeing. But they weren't striking him dead. It seemed they meant to capture him. There was nothing Baron could do.
Just then, over the commotion, the sound of a roar erupted from somewhere to the east. The mercenaries shot their gaze over and Baron turned over on his stomach to see. It was a man standing on a hillside just outside the city, a horse and rider beside him. The man towered over the horse and rider, twice their size. It was a giant. The mercenaries couldn't believe their eyes. The giant and rider rushed forward down the hill. The mercenaries continued their advance as the people of the alliance city ran from them.
The Banished Lands- The Complete Series Page 54
