by Sidney Wood
Chapter Seventy-Five
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
Kelly was turning a deep purple as he stood quietly among the Generals and advisors of the King’s War Council. So far, the King had waved off any attempt at honor and dignity, and was only entertaining strategies that involved protecting the church’s interests, or increasing his personal wealth. The nobles and people they governed were not a consideration to his mind, and so any talk of their wellbeing was met with rolled eyes or a dismissive hand wave.
At this point, General Collins was forbidden to take an army to meet either of the enemy armies reported to be marching across the kingdom. The royal army was larger and much stronger within the city walls.
“Let them wear down their armies marching from sea to mountain and back. We will stay here, growing stronger and fight when they actually pose a serious threat,” said the King. “When this war is over and we have broken them completely, we will expand our borders. They will have nowhere left to pitch their pitiful tents and shacks.”
“If we can survive their armies, we will have no homes, farms, or forests! We will starve!” thought Kelly. He looked at the other men gathered in the room. He studied their faces and tried to measure their loyalty to the King and his absurd reasoning.
“Sire,” said a frustrated General Collins. “With respect to his Majesty, I believe it is a mistake to wait them out!” He continued even though the King was shaking his head and dismissing his argument before it was fully presented.
Kelly was trying his hardest to keep a neutral face and avoid tipping his hand. “Please listen you ignorant buffoon! Just hear him out!”
“Hiding within these walls while an invading army ransacks the entire kingdom is dishonorable! It is unbearable! It is treasonous!” The General was yelling now, and those in the room who had no firm convictions began to step back away from him. Kelly stood his ground, and so did several others.
“ENOUGH!” screamed the King. He jumped to his feet and stepped forward toward his Battle Commander. “You go too far General! Shut your mouth before I have your entire head removed!” The guards near the chamber doors placed their hands on their swords.
The General, knowing when he had lost a battle, choked down his anger and bowed curtly to the King. Kelly took in a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it go. “Sanity has obviously left the castle,” he thought as he tried to ascertain how he might further the true heir’s cause in this terrible turn of events.
There was a knock at the chamber doors and everyone turned to see a young guard, timidly step in and freeze. The seconds passed awkwardly while everyone waited to hear what was important enough to cause the council to be disturbed.
“Well?” said the Kings senior advisor, finally. “Did you have something to say, or is this some sort of schoolboy prank?”
“No my Lord!” answered the guard. “I mean yes my Lord! It is not a prank sir! I…I…I…”
“Spit it out son,” said the guard commander with a calm voice. That seemed to calm the guard down enough to get his bearing.
“There was an assassin, a failed attempt, on the Colonel’s life. He was not harmed. The assassin is…quite dead.” The room became abuzz with whispers and speculative comments. He looked around the room until he saw the Master of Swords. He quickly walked over and in a low voice said, “Master Turner, Major Martin asked that you and Captain Brente meet him in the infirmary immediately.”
“Thank you lad,” answered Kelly with worry on his face. “Get to Captain Brente and pass that along. I’ll join him as soon as I am able.”
“Yes your Lordship,” answered the guard. He turned and hustled out the door.
Kelly swallowed dryly and stepped out in to the center of the floor. He turned sharply to face the War Council. Dressed in his finest parade uniform and gilded weaponry, he cut a striking figure. He stood up straight and tall, almost to the point of leaning back and addressed the council. “Esteemed council members, we are fighting amongst ourselves to no good end! Our monarch has proclaimed his chosen strategy and our duty is but to obey. The King’s Champion lies wounded in the castle infirmary! He will not be fit to do battle for some time. Let us resolve to do our King’s bidding and NOT go to war just yet! Let us shore our defenses, increase our armory, and let our champion heal! Send word to the villages and to the far flung estates that help is coming! Yes! Help WILL come! But they must hold on! If he can heal and stand to fight again, they can HOLD STRONG and wait for him to come! Let a message of hope be sent out to the people, and let our army grow in strength as we obey our King’s will!”
Without waiting for a response, he spun in place, facing King Oglefurth. He implored, “Your Majesty, as your armies wait and keep the capital safe, allow a few chosen men to ride out and spread the word. Let them go and give hope, strength, and comfort to your citizens. The mounted soldiers of the Axe Battalion met and defeated a much larger force of rebel cavalry with honor and distinction. Reward their loyalty and bravery by sending them as your chosen and esteemed emissaries. Let them bring YOUR message of hope to the people.”
Kelly stood stiffly and waited to hear the King’s response. It felt like minutes had passed before the King finally spoke.
“Well said Master of Swords. I should also title you Master of Words.” The King turned and sat down in his chair. As usual, he held his empty glass out and a servant rushed to fill it. He immediately took a loud slurp and sighed. “Very well. Let my message go out to the people. The Axe Battalion will be my emissary to the far flung reaches of my kingdom!”
Kelly let out his breath, and hurried to leave the hall. On his way out he noticed General Collins looking at him strangely. The General was obviously wondering what he was up to, but said nothing. Kelly pushed it from his mind and continued out the door. Once outside he smiled and congratulated himself heavily on such a fine performance.
At the infirmary Corvis was in the hall talking quietly to Chase. They both looked up and greeted Kelly with worried looks.
“It was a close call Kelly,” said Chase. “The bastard got inside the room. If I hadn’t been there…”
“How is he doing?” asked Kelly.
“He’s still feverish, but he’s awake,” said Corvis. “Joszette is with him. She’s been tending to him and keeping a cool rag on his forehead. Charity is also in there. It seems to help.”
There was a blonde haired Corporal standing in the hall just outside Lynn’s door as well. “Who’s the boy?” asked Kelly, suspicious of everyone at this point.
“That’s Corporal Nash. He is Charity’s personal guard detail. The Colonel assigned him during our fight with the rebels, and he’s been glued to her ever since,” said Chase. “Good kid, all in all.”
“I said I have to piss, now help me up!” The shout came from Lynn’s room.
“I don’t care if you’re a doctor, I won’t piss lying down! Help me up!” growled Lynn as he brushed the chamber pot aside and began to sit up on the bed.
“You’ll pull out the stitches, you stubborn ass!” scolded the doctor as he helped Lynn to his feet. They walked slowly to the corner where Lynn could brace against the wall and stand and piss into the pot on the ground like a proper man.
Joszette and Charity stepped out into the hall and tried to stifle their laughter at his antics.
Kelly gasped at the encouraging turn of events. “He’s on his feet?” How? No! Really? Are you two messing with me?” he asked Chase and Corvis, suddenly looking very suspicious. “If you two pranksters are having me on, I’ll..!”
“I’m going to live, you old goat,” said a tired, but smiling Colonel Lynn Hayes from the doorway. His smile disappeared suddenly and he said, “Okay, somebody help me back to bed. I’m about to fall over.”
Joszettte and Charity rushed forward and supported him from either side under his arms. They were careful not to put any pressure on the large bandaged area on his right side, but he winced and groaned anyway. They helped him sit ba
ck on the bed and placed pillows behind his back and head so he could sit up. “Thank you,” he said, slightly out of breath. “So…what does it take to get fed around here?”
Chapter Seventy-Six
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
General Collins was no fool. He disagreed with the promotion and glorification of Colonel Hayes when the idea was first approached, but not because of his ability. For General Collins it was simply a matter of military protocol. Hayes had not been trained properly as an officer, and although he had many years of battlefield experience prior to his commission as a senior officer, they were all served as an enlisted soldier.
He spent the morning reading the reports submitted by Colonel Hayes’ officers about the initial ambush and subsequent episodes of enemy contact, and he was surprised to find himself quite energized. What a storm they had been hit with; and yet, somehow, they had managed to escort the civilians and most of the supplies to safety! Not only that, but they had punished the enemy soundly for their trouble. He nearly laughed out loud when he read about the ambush they had set up along the ridge. Many good soldiers had paid the ultimate price that day, but the enemy paid a much higher price because of it.
His reservations about the Colonel and his “gift” promotion were all gone. With confidence, he dipped the point of the pen he held into an open jar of black ink on his desk and issued the order. Colonel Hayes and his Axe Battalion would ride out and deliver the King’s message far and wide, helping who they could, and defeating the enemy as they were able. At least one battalion of the King’s Royal Guard would be able to keep their honor. He finished writing and laid down the pen. Picking up the order, he sat back in his chair and read it over one last time.
As he held the order in his hand, General Collins contemplated just where this would lead. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that tough-as-nails bastard finds a way to beat their whole damned army.” He shook his head and called to his aide, Major Tisley, to come retrieve and distribute the order.
Chapter Seventy-Seven
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
“Sir, with all due respect,” said Chase as he mounted his horse and moved into formation with Colonel Hayes. “You’re an idiot.”
“Major, when I want your opinion I’ll give it to you. Until then, you know what you can do with it,” he answered with a smirk and then winced again from the pain in his side.
“Ha! Fair enough Colonel,” Chase said with a smile. “Fair enough.”
“Colonel!” shouted the Battalion’s Executive Officer, and newly promoted, Major Corvis Brente. He looked absolutely frightening as he ran to the commander’s horse from the stable gates. “I thought we agreed you were going to take another day or two to recover and meet us then!” he said in a tense whisper from the side of Colonel Hayes’ horse.
Chase began whistling and fiddling with his belt, as if he was lost in thought or too preoccupied with his gear to overhear the argument.
“Major, I changed my mind. I can do that. I’m the boss,” he said leaning forward. He changed his mind and sat back up. His discomfort was obvious, but he ignored it. “Seriously, it’s no reflection on you. I’d happily send you out on this suicide mission with your own battalion and expect outstanding results. The fact is, this is my battalion, and I’ll be damned if she’s going into battle without me.” He sat and stared at Corvis for a moment with narrowed eyes. “We good?”
Corvis returned his glare with a hard look of his own. Through clenched teeth he said, “It’s not my pride sir. It’s just that…you won’t good to anyone if you don’t rest.” He shook his head in surrender. “Fine sir…we’re good.” Then Corvis narrowed his eyes and saluted sharply.
Lynn returned his salute and immediately regretted the sudden movement. “Ungh!” he said as he dropped his right arm back to his side. He doubled over slightly and leaned to his right. “Uh oh…”
Corvis caught the Colonel as he fell from his saddle. “Damn it sir,” he grunted as he lowered Lynn toward the ground and then, switching his hold, lifted him completely and began walking back to the castle infirmary.
“Major!” Lynn started angrily. Then he thought better of it and said, “Fine, we’re good.”
Chase stifled a chuckle watching the hulking Corvis carrying Lynn off like a husband carrying his bride. Turning his mount out of formation, Chase rode out to the left side and centered himself. He waited until the Colonel was out of sight and raised his voice to shout, “Warriors of Axe Battalion! Hear my voice!”
All eyes turned and fixed on him. No voices other than his could be heard. Discipline, when being addressed by leadership, was a point of pride in the Axe Battalion. These men respected their Battle Captain in the same manner they did the Colonel.
“We have orders to march out and give a message of hope to the people!”
“WOLVES would keep us from our mission!” He looked from one end of the formation to the other.
“They would HUNT us!”
The men sat at perfect attention in their saddles, anger clearly written on their faces.
Chase stood in the stirrups and shouted, “LET THEM HUNT US!”
The battalion shouted in unison, “HOORAH!”
Raising his fist in the air he shouted, “WE ARE THE AXE!”
The battalion replied, “HOORAH!”
“TODAY, WHILE OTHERS STAY BEHIND THESE WALLS, WE GO OUT!”
“HOORAH!” they shouted.
Then in a deeper, but equally loud voice Chase boomed, “WOE TO THE WOLVES!”
“HOORAH!” the battalion boomed back.
“WHO ARE WE?” Chase shouted.
“THE AXE!” boomed the formation. It bounced off the castle walls and echoed throughout the city.
Sitting back in his saddle, Chase walked his horse back to the front of the formation. “That was pretty good if I do say so myself!” he thought while fighting the urge to grin.
“If you ever give up soldiering, you can find work as a salesman,” chuckled Guy from Chase’s right. He had been standing on the far side of the formation watching the group prepare to march out. He reached Chase’s horse and began patting the bags as if searching for something.
“Hey there brother,” said Chase, glad to see his brother. “Uhhh…stop feeling up my horse.”
“I think you might have something of mine,” said Guy, looking at Chase with raised eyebrows.
“Oh! Well, it just so happens that I do, but not on my horse.” Chase looked around conspiratorially and whispered, “I have it in a safe place.”
Guy looked at him and his expression soured. “It would really suck if you died out there and that “safe place” was never discovered.”
“Ouch,” said Chase, leaning back as if Guy’s words had just stung him. Then he chuckled and said with a smile, “You’ll find what you’re looking for hidden in the back of Cuddles’ kennel. Ask Charity, she knows to give it to you.” He winked at his brother.
Guy reached out and punched Chase’s leg. “Be careful out there little brother,” he said with a forced smile. He suddenly had a lump in his throat, and he tried unsuccessfully to swallow it down.
“I’ll be seeing you soon big brother.” Then with a grin he added, “Try not to lose any more legs while I’m gone.”
Major Brente rejoined the battalion with a look of supreme satisfaction on his face. He mounted his horse, which was now positioned where the Colonel’s had been, next to Chase, and said, “Sergeant Major, how about we get this ragged band of cutthroats on the road before they fall asleep. I heard a sweet voice singing them a lullaby a few minutes ago, and it nearly made me puke.” He looked at Chase and grinned while the Sergeant Major bellowed the command to march.
The red flag of the Axe Battalion waved over the columns as they rode through the city and out of the gate. Citizens and soldiers lined the streets to shout words of encouragement, prayers, and gratitude as they passed by.
Lying in his infirmary bed, Lynn cl
enched his fists and closed his eyes. “Lord, if you can hear me; watch over my men. Harden them and make their will like iron.” He lay quietly for a while, listening to the sounds of cheering crowds and trumpets blaring as the battalion rode out to defy the enemy. Lynn forced his limbs to be still. He willed his body to heal. He would join them soon enough. “Lord, please don’t let them kill all of the traitorous and rebel bastards before I get there. Amen.”
Chapter Seventy-Eight
(Present Day: 237 Cycles into the Light)
Joszette sat on Lynn’s bed with his head cradled in her lap. His eyes were closed and he didn’t move as she placed a razor against his neck and slowly pulled it up toward his chin. She wiped the soapy lather and hair onto a towel next to her and moved the razor carefully back to his neck. She gently shaved the beard from his neck and then his face as he rested in her care.
Lynn protested at first, saying something about it being too soon. “You just lay still and let me do this for you,” she said with a smile. Unable to disappoint her, he finally relented and lay still as she had insisted.
As she slowly drew the razor up his neck, his jugular vein pulsed rhythmically under the skin. It was captivating for some reason; almost hypnotizing. An ever increasing tingling flittered through her body with every throb of his vein. Her hand began to tremble.
Joszette stopped and laid the razor down on the bed. She closed her eyes and held his face in her hands. “What is this? What is wrong with me?” she thought. “Please don’t let me hurt him,” she prayed silently.
After a few moments, she was calm. Her hands had stopped trembling and the tingling sensation was reduced to a hum in the background of her senses. She opened her eyes to see Lynn watching her. She smiled reassuringly, and picked up the razor.
Slowly and methodically, she shaved the beard from his handsome face, but the longing for blood returned. With each upward or downward stroke of the razor, the temptation to pull it sideways and cut into his flesh was there. By the time she was done, her nerves were shot, and she was feeling irritable.
