by Sidney Wood
A young soldier who said he was under orders directly from her father rode next to her wagon. The Captain had placed other soldiers near her wagon, but it was comforting to know one was there just for her. The wagon bumped and jostled as the driver cursed and whipped the horses, urging them to keep up with their armed escorts.
Left behind, Guy lay under an overturned wagon. He was unhurt, but effectively trapped. The wagon had been bowled over when the attack began, and was considered a loss when the supply train re-started movement. No one had heard his shouts for help over the frantic cries of the wounded men, women, and horses. After a few minutes of laying still and listening, he pulled out his dagger and began to dig at the hard packed surface of the road.
“Slap your sister,” he grumbled as he pulled the loosened dirt back and away from the growing hole.
He squeezed his way out from under the wagon through the ditch he dug under its side. Before dragging himself completely clear of the wagon he stopped and listened again. He could hear the moaning of the wounded, and the sounds of more fighting through the trees, but nothing threatening in the immediate area. Guy stood up on his one good leg and looked around. Sighing with relief, he hobbled over to a horse that was standing still over its expired rider. The reins were tied around the corpse’s wrist, so that when the horse raised its head, it also raised the man’s arm as if in waving gesture. Guy waved back as he approached. “It’s the polite thing to do,” he joked to himself morbidly. He reached down and cut the reins rather than trying to untie them, and climbed into the saddle.
Guy turned the horse toward the capital and was just starting to head out when the strangest thing happened. “What the…?’ he said when he saw one of the dead rebels roll over, stand up, and start attacking a wounded horse laying near it. It wasn’t using a sword or a knife to cut into the horse’s flesh. It was using its own teeth and hands. “Slap your sister,” he said as he watched in horror. Then, as he looked around he saw more of the rebels rising up and attacking the nearest living thing.
“Uh oh…”
Chapter Sixty-Three
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
Major Martin was in the thick of it. His face was covered in the blood of men he killed up close, and his sword was heavy with the weight of another dead soul dropping to the ground. He wrenched it free and lifted it up just in time to block a boot to the side of his head as he spun around. He was on the ground, fighting both mounted and dismounted rebels, and couldn’t see a single Royal Guardsman anywhere. For all he knew he was the last one.
Catching the sword of another mounted soldier with an overhead block, he kicked the knee of the horse sideways, sending the pair tumbling to the ground. The rider screamed as his own leg was broken by the panicked horse thrashing in pain on the ground. Chase reached up and pulled another distracted rider from his saddle and immediately leapt up in his place. He quickly fought to clear some space around him as he looked for any other survivors.
“There!” he thought. He could see other small groups of Royal Guards fighting rebel riders on all sides. Aiming for the nearest group, he charged ahead. He was nearly unseated as a rebel horse and rider plowed into him from the side. His horse maintained its feet though, and he held on tightly as it charged ahead. He ducked and dodged and blocked several attempts on his life as he raced to rejoin his own. He took a rebel arm and two rebel heads, and sent four sets of horses and riders down by ignoring the riders and laming the horses.
“Major!” shouted his former First Sergeant as Chase broke into their circle. “God it’s good to see you!” The enlisted leader smashed a rebel soldier’s face in with the pommel of his sword as he greeted his former commander. “Kind of a pickle sir!” he shouted as he punched another rider’s horse in the eye, sending the pair reeling back.
“Shut up and follow me!” Chase shouted as he looked farther on. “I see the Colonel!”
The next group of fighters was bigger and included their battalion commander, Colonel Hayes. If anyone could get them out of this, he could. Chase reared his horse up and it kicked at the enemy horses in front of it. They shied back and he forced his way through at a gallop. The First Sergeant shouted, “TO THE COLONEL!” at the top of his lungs and charged after him.
Chapter Sixty-Four
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
(Beginning of the battle)
Colonel Hayes heard the shouts and screams from the rear of the battalion at the same time Captain Brente did. He immediately looked at his Executive Officer and said, “Go!” They both knew the plan in the event of an ambush. It was just not expected this far inside their borders. As soon as he sent the Captain to form the rear guard, Lynn turned to his Battle Captain, Major Chase Martin and ordered, “Form defense and prepare for a counter attack! The rear attack may be a diversion!”
Major Martin immediately turned and shouted orders to the remaining company commanders, who set to work with the discipline and speed only seasoned soldiers can manage. He felt a surge of pride realizing that some of these officers were enlisted soldiers only a few short weeks ago.
Meanwhile the Colonel sent riders ahead to retrieve the scouts and to report back on enemy activity and road conditions. Once the defensive perimeter was set, and the main body of the battalion was secure on all sides, the command group including the Colonel and the Battle Captain raced to the rear to assess the situation. Lynn immediately saw his mistake. The attack was coming from one side, and although the defensive line was strong and gaining strength, the tide of enemy riders bursting through the trees was not slowing. Horses and men littered the ground. Soon the defenders would not be able to move while mounted with so many obstacles underfoot.
“Major Martin,” he bellowed above the terrible sounds of fighting and dying men and animals. “Take four hundred men and flank theses bastards!” He pointed into the trees at where he estimated their main force to be.
Turning to a Private nearby, he shouted, “Tell the XO that I’m sending four hundred horses on a counter assault to flank their main force!” Pausing for a moment he said, “And, tell him I’m going with them so he’s in charge! Tell him to use the rest of the battalion to get this supply train to safety!” Looking the Private in the eye he said, “one last thing…Have you seen my daughter Charity?”
The young man nodded that he had.
Lynn visibly relaxed and said, “I’m promoting you to Corporal, effective immediately. As soon as you deliver that message, you find my daughter and you stay with her. Keep her safe! You got that Corporal?”
“Yes Sir!” shouted the newly promoted corporal, and he saluted fiercely. He had a look of determination and overwhelming pride as the Colonel returned the salute just as fiercely.
The Corporal turned and rode into the fray as the command group returned to the front of the column. The center of the road was cleared for them as all riders were facing out toward the trees with weapons drawn. Once they arrived at the front the order was given, and four hundred horsemen executed a column-right movement and raced to engage the enemy.
“Damn!” was the first thing that Lynn said as he broke through the tree line. The numbers of the rebel mounted infantry far exceeded the four hundred that he led. “HIT THEM AT THE TREE LINE!” he shouted over his shoulder. At the very least, they could stop the assault on the civilians in the supply train long enough for Captain Brente to get them away.
“This is going to suck,” Lynn muttered through clenched teeth as he braced for impact at full speed. His horse charged bravely into the ranks of rebel horsemen as it had been trained to do, and rather than one jarring impact, Lynn felt several as they continued forward relentlessly. The first ranks of Kings Royal Guards formed a wedge and broke completely through the rebel column. The second half of their column, led by the Battle Captain, broke left and hit the enemy column slightly higher up away from the trees, to further splinter their formation.
Chase broke through the far side of the enemy co
lumn and swung around to go again. His heart sunk as he saw the majority of his column fall to the overwhelming numbers of the enemy. “RALLY WITH THE FIRST COLUMN!” he shouted to the fifty or so soldiers who had made it through with him.
By now the enemy column had come apart and was swarming in disorganized chaos. If they had more men the Royal Guards could have swept them up like a scythe through wheat, but the numbers were not in their favor. Their best bet was to reform and try to break free.
Colonel Hayes saw the second column go down. He cursed as he saw his force nearly decimated in the first seconds of the fight. “I’ll be damned if I’ll leave them here to die by these rebel dogs!” he said. He gave the command to charge again and aimed the spear point of the attack directly at the area where the second column had fallen. The remaining soldiers of the second column fell into his ranks as they pushed into the enemy swarm again.
This time the enemy ranks were loose and disorganized, and the guardsmen rode into them on a wider front. They were better armored, better armed, and more skilled at mounted warfare. They inflicted enormous casualties on the rebel ranks, and sewed even more discord. The Colonel led charge after charge through the rebel horde, fighting bravely to defend those that had been dismounted or injured.
Just when the battle seemed to be turning, the rebels rallied around a leader with long red hair and reformed as a solid unit. They came at the greatly reduced unit of King’s Royal Guards, and broke them apart soundly. The brave men of the Axe Battalion were overcome and splintered into smaller groups or separated individually. Those that found themselves separated went down almost immediately. Those in small groups held out only a little longer. Soon, Lynn could only focus on saving those immediately around him. Then he was fighting just to stay alive. Aside from the flash of silver armor in his periphery from time to time, he had no indication that any others were still alive.
His mind was filled with this alone, “These are my men and my responsibility.” In spite of the fatigue he felt from swinging his sword a thousand times, and despite the hopelessness of the situation, he became filled with an overwhelming rage. There were no more soldiers to his back and no more enemies beyond. There was just the enemy in front of him, and the enemies to either side. His world went red and black. The sounds of battle disappeared and he heard only the sound of his breathing and his pulse pounding in his ears.
One after another an enemy rider appeared within his reach, and one after another they disappeared in a spray of blood and gore. His horse eventually fell from beneath him when an enemy sword pierced its heart. It had suffered many wounds and still carried him valiantly until that fatal moment. When it fell, it fell hard and the Colonel seemed lost beneath the hooves and boots of rebels and Royal Guards alike.
Pushing and clawing his way from beneath the body of his dead horse, Lynn reached for his sword. It was no longer there at his side. The sounds of battle still seemed far in the distance as he eyed a familiar wooden handle jutting from the pack across his slain horse’s back. A grim smile grew on his face as he reached out and grasped it. Pulling it free he gave it a mighty swing, taking the nearest horse at the knees and finishing the rider with the second blow by splitting his head. “There’s just something about the weighted feel of swinging an axe,” he thought to himself as he went back to work clearing the forest of legs and torsos that continued to grow before him.
Major Martin saw the Colonel go down just before reaching him. He bellowed with rage and pressed ahead. The remaining men of his former command and their First Sergeant were on his heels. They cleared a swath through the masses of paired man and horse bodies.
They reached the circle of Kings Guards to see the Colonel on his feet and fighting from the ground with an axe, just like the one on his standard. He was covered in blood from head to toe, and his chest heaved to supply oxygen to his taxed muscles. There was no sign of slowing down; however, and every swing was swift, powerful, and measured. Chase was in awe to see this man of legend pushing forward into the mounted enemy ranks, and making them fall back to escape his terrible fury.
The Major and his men joined the circle of survivors and pushed forward to support the Colonel. Chase estimated that they were still one hundred strong, and that they were outnumbered about ten to one.
It was late in the afternoon and the sun was dipping low above the horizon. Making his way nearer to the Colonel, he shouted, “SIR! WE HAVE TO BREAK CONTACT!”
There was no response from the commander, just more blood and broken bodies as he pushed farther ahead.
“SIR!...LYNN!!” shouted Chase, venturing to nearly within arm’s reach of the berserker commander.
He reeled back as the Colonel turned toward him in a fighting crouch. He looked less like a man, and more like a beast full of blood lust and rage. Chase shouted again, “SIR, GET ON A DAMN HORSE! WE HAVE TO GO! NOW!”
Looking confused for a moment, Lynn felt the sounds slowly start to make sense. He began to recognize that the man in front of him was not his enemy. “I need a horse.” He said in an absurdly quiet voice. The sounds of battle came crashing into him like a wave, and he leapt away from the enemy horsemen who were moving ever closer as if he just realized where he was.
Major Martin and the First Sergeant positioned their mounts between the Colonel and the closest of the enemy riders while he mounted a newly rider-less horse. “TO THE TREES!” bellowed the Colonel, and as they moved the hundred riders consolidated into a tight formation and forced their way through the weakest section of the enemy line. It was a constant battle to get to the trees, but once they did, the smaller force quickly outpaced their pursuers.
Chase and Lynn reached the road at the same time. They reined in their horses in shock. The rebel soldiers were eating other men! They attacked soldiers and civilians alike, and horses too. The one Lynn was looking at had a sword though his torso and he was moving as if he wasn’t wounded. “Dear God,” said Lynn as he drew the sword he took from a dead soldier before mounting his horse.
“Blood magic,” said Chase.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Lynn as he turned his horse and led them at a full gallop up the road.
“TAKE THEIR HEADS IF YOU CAN!” shouted Chase over his shoulder as he followed the Colonel. They swung at the walking corpses as they sped by, decapitating a few, but simply knocking down others. “Just another day in the army,” Chase said under his breath as he severed the head of an undead rebel.
Chapter Sixty-Five
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
“What’s left of the flanking movement is coming fast,” reported one of the scouts. “I couldn’t tell if the Colonel or Major Martin were with them.”
Captain Brente had sent the Sergeant and another rider back to find out what happened to them.
“What’s left of them?” asked the Captain.
“I saw less than two hundred, sir,” said the soldier.
“Damn it! Too many have died,” thought Corvis. Then aloud he said, “Thank you Sergeant. That will be all.”
The Sergeant saluted and turned about. He gave the order and the ferry began its journey back across the wide North River. They managed to move the supply train across the river and it was staged on the far side. The Captain had scouts posted miles out in all directions and the rest of the soldiers were preparing a surprise for the rebel horsemen if they should follow.
“Engineers,” thought Corvis. “Given a little time, they are by far the most valuable asset on any battlefield.”
About a mile from the river Chase saw his brother ahead on the road and felt immediate relief. Earlier, when he saw the debris and bodies where the supply train was attacked, he feared the worst. As he got closer to Guy, he remembered the revenants they had also seen among the supply train debris and he began eying him suspiciously. “I seriously don’t want to put my own brother down…but I will,” thought Chase. As he closed with his brother’s galloping horse he drew his sword.
Just then Guy, who was still quite dirty from clawing and crawling his way out from under a wagon, looked back over his shoulder.
“Oh no!” thought Chase, seeing the grotesque face of what used to be his brother look hungrily at him. He swung at Guy’s head, fully intending to save his brother from eating anyone or getting more disgusting.
“Chase? What the…?” said Guy just before he threw himself off the other side of the horse to keep from being decapitated. “Slap your sister!” he thought as he fell through the air, and said, “Unghh!” as he impacted and tumbled.
Guy lay in an unconscious heap beside the road. Riders reined in beside him and a couple dismounted.
“What did you do that for?” shouted Lynn.
“Well! I don’t know! I thought he was one of those bloody walking dead back there!”
“He was riding the horse, not eating it!”
“How the heck was I supposed to know what those things can do?” argued Chase. He bent down and examined his brother. “He’s breathing. At least I didn’t kill him.”
Lynn shook his head and said, “Tie him on his horse and let’s get the hell out of here.” He looked over his shoulder. Through clenched teeth he said, “Those bastards will be here soon.”
Another soldier handed Major Martin his brother’s wooden leg. “I found this over there,” he said, pointing back down the road. “And this was inside it,” he said as he handed Chase a heavy pouch.
Chase took the leg first and then the pouch. “That sneaky bastard,” he thought as he stuffed the pouch, obviously full of coins, into a saddle bag on his own horse for safe keeping. “Alright, help me get this lazy sack of potatoes onto a horse!”
In a few minutes they were back on the road and making good time. Chase led his brother’s horse and kept a watchful eye on its load. “Damn, he’s going to be sore tomorrow,” he thought.
