The Olvion Reality (The Chronicles of Olvion Book 1)

by Larry Robbins

  Now they all made for the north side of the battlefield. They had fallen back to the most eastward position that they could go, with the bluffs rising high behind them. The Grey King stopped when he could run no more. He shielded his eyes against the sun and looked out over the field of war. The fight on the south side of the valley was lost or soon would be. Well, that was expected. Heeding his advisor he had put his weakest fighters and those who were already wounded on the south side. He needed his strength on the north side. He checked the sun again. It was time.

  ***

  I took a final deep breath and checked those around me. They seemed to have recovered and were now showing signs of impatience to reenter the fight. I knew how they felt. Battle was scary but this was not something we could hide from. We would be victorious this day or every warrior on this field and every man, woman and child in the city would be butchered by sub-human Neanderthals. That would not happen while blood still coursed through our veins.

  I raised my sword preparing to order a charge. Then a surge of motion over on the north side of the valley drew my attention. I looked to see a knot of Greys swarming King Zander’s horse. There were no longer any of his personal guard left to come to his defense. Now, alone and still swinging his mace, he was being overwhelmed as the beasts tore at his reigns, his clothes and the legs of his mount. I pointed and yelled. “The king.” The fighters around me all turned to see the horror that was taking place. Could we get to him in time? It did not seem possible. But, as one, we took off in his direction. We looped around other groups of enemy fighters. We all had the same thing in mind, to protect our king the man to whom we had sworn our loyalty. We ran as fast as we could. The more fleet of us, including me, left others behind. Some peeled off as they were set upon by beasts and had to defend themselves. Two or three fell after being struck by spear or stone. We could not stop to help them. They would not have wanted us to.

  I watched what was happening as I made my way northward. It was like seeing something happen in slow motion. The small knot of Greys around the king grew. Now there were dozens. He was still fighting. Each time a beast would leap up to grab his reigns he was dropped by a mace swing. But now it was just a matter of time. There were just too many Greys around him. And he…our king… was alone. I watched in horror as one of the Grey raiders jumped up and grabbed him from behind, grasping the back of his armor and hanging on. Zander was pulled sideways but still fought to stay in saddle. Then another beast found purchase on the saddle horn and others leapt forward grabbing and pulling. The horse struck out twice with his rear legs, sharpened steel shoes crushing and slashing his enemies. But then his mount, too, gave in to the overwhelming weight of dozens of grey beasts pulling on one side and pushing from the other.

  Horse and King went over and both were immediately covered over by hacking and stabbing Greys.

  “No, you bastards,” I screamed. I was still twenty yards away. There was no hope but I hoped anyway. Maybe he was protected by his armor, maybe he was hurt but could survive his wounds. Deep inside I knew the truth but still I ran. The remaining warriors who had attached themselves to me were right at my side. There were now only ten of us left, the others having been pulled away as we ran and fought our way to protect our king.

  I searched for more cavalry as I ran thinking irrationally that I could get one’s attention and send him to the king’s aid. I saw no more cavalry save one. He was farther away than I was but, on his mount, he could still reach the king before us. My heart leapt when I saw it was Ruguer. He too was fighting his way in the direction of the king. He must have also seen him go down. Despair turned to hope again. Then it was dashed when Ruguer’s horse was also swarmed by the enemy and taken down. The last thing I saw was Ruguer leaping back up and swinging his mace two-handed at the dozens of grey-skinned attackers. I tried to put that image out of my mind as we fought to get to our king’s side.

  As I ran I took stock of how we were doing. A quick peek over the shoulder showed me that the major fighting on the south side was over. There were still pockets of skirmishing fighters but the Greys on that side had mostly been cut down. Warriors from that part of the battlefield were now crossing over to join their brethren fighting to the north side of the valley. They moved slowly now, managing only a fast walk. They were fighting to regain their wind and to ignore the searing thirst that we all felt. The battle had been going on for hours and everyone had been putting forth maximum effort. The valley dust coated our tongues and throats. Never had I been so fatigued.

  Even having lost our king I thought we were still destined for victory, however solemn and grim a victory that might be. We had been fighting now for four hours, Earth-time. If the other warriors on the field of battle felt anything like I was feeling they were almost spent. The only good thing about that was that our enemy had to be feeling the same way. I could not come anywhere near being able to count the numbers of fighters in this valley but it appeared that we now held a slim advantage in numbers. We had taken their best and whittled them down to the point where our exhausted troops could now defeat their exhausted troops. As I continued to run I prayed that the Greys would come to their senses and just run away. Why would they continue after seeing so many of their fellow raiders die? It didn’t seem sane. But no one said they were sane.

  I was now some ten yards from where Zander had fallen. Only three of my original group of fighters remained, two men and one woman. We were so close that we were raising our weapons, prepared to carve our way through grey flesh to recover the body of our king.

  ***

  Karr saw the human king being dragged down and shouted in triumph. At last something in this damned war had gone his way. But there was more to come for these humans. Much more, and it was coming fast. The gold-armored beast turned to search the bluffs behind himself. There. Three Greys were above him on the hills. Their heads could just be made out. Karr jumped up and down waving his arms until one of them stood and waved back. Karr grinned and crossed his forearms in front of his chest. The Grey on the bluffs nodded and returned the signal.

  ***

  Just before we would have gotten within striking distance we skidded to an abrupt halt. I held out an arm and caught the young woman running with us as she attempted to continue on.

  We had been running north in the valley. The bluffs were to our right, east of where we were. Now down from the bluffs flowed thousands of Greys. Tens of thousands. I didn’t know how many were now descending toward the battlefield but I had a hunch.

  When we started this battle we were surprised to see so few Greys lined up to do battle. We had been watching their numbers diminish for weeks. A hundred here, two hundred there. We thought they were deserting, running back to the Grey Mountains and fleeing the unsuccessful war brought upon them by their king. In the time we were watching we estimated a loss of thirty thousand raiders that had evidently ran away. We were fools. We had been suckered by half-human beasts with the brains of an imbecile. Some had certainly deserted but others had been stashed away, hidden in the heights of the bluffs. They had been holding them in reserve for the time that they would be most useful. That time was now. Now when we had lost half of our number in a fierce battle. Now that we had no more surprises to even the score on our enemy. Now that we were an exhausted army, barely able to muster the energy to stand much less fight.

  Presumably under the cover of darkness, a ramp had been dug out of the earth and stones that led up into the bluffs and down this ramp they came. It was a brilliant move, one that I intuited had never come from the dull mind of the Grey King. I was certain that I knew from where the new tactics that were being used by the enemy had come. Tinker had already made certain that he would provide no further aid. But the damage already done may have been just enough to make it all meaningless. There was no way we could defeat this advancing wave of fresh and rested Greys. The only thing we had in our favor now was the distance between them and most of our surviving warriors.

&n
bsp; And then we were fleeing. Our entire army had broken and was running for the bridges and gates for the scant and temporary protection that they offered. We were beaten. There was no way we could now stand against the enemy. We had barely thirty thousand physically spent warriors left alive. At least that many fresh Grey troops now came flooding into our beautiful valley joining the surviving remnants of their army.

  I watched as our warriors turned and ran. The Greys that were still standing from the original battle shouted insults in their language and laughed as we stumbled and ran past them. Now it was a race to see if we could make it to the bridges before the reserve enemy force could all get down the ramp and assembled for attack. It would be close. None of our people were able to use their best speed. Some were still engaged in fighting pockets of the enemy. Others were helping their limping and bleeding comrades to retreat. The rest were just too tired to run. Some simply stopped and sat in the dirt. Others stood, too exhausted to even flee while watching the fresh Grey fighters gather, so tired that they would die before being able to run away.

  I had stood there so close to where Zander had fallen. For thirty seconds I teetered between continuing on and seeking the temporary safety of the city. Even if we reached the city in time to close the gates on our attackers we were too few in number now to adequately defend the miles of our walls. Ours was a huge city with the largest walled area in the entire known world of Olvion. The sheer size of the walls made them difficult to defend.

  I stood for a second longer then I, too, broke. I started jogging my way back to the bridges. The three warriors with me followed my lead. We ran. We were humiliated. We were afraid. And we ran for our lives. I was running with one thought in mind: If my life was going to be measured in minutes I wanted to spend them with Dwan.

  As I ran for my life I punished myself. I mentally branded myself a coward. Legend? I was supposed to be The Legend? I was supposed to be the one who rallied the defenders of Olvion, providing the inspiration to regroup and attack the enemy regardless of the cost to ourselves. My strength and size was supposed to encourage others. They were meant to see me rise up and take the battle to the enemy thus gathering the spirit of the people of Olvion and directing it at the enemy. But in the end, I was just a man.

  I passed over the different parts of the battlefield, leaping over the dead bodies of friend and enemy alike. The blood from my back wound was now plastering my vest to my flesh and I was growing dizzy. I ignored the cries of wounded and dying horses. Halfway to the bridge I saw a woman on the ground, a hand clutched to her bloody side. I made for her and was astonished to see that it was Meena, the fierce female warrior with whom I had descended the walls of Olvion and fought the Grey’s champions. I knelt down and took a quick look at her wound.

  “Tag-Gar,” she said, amazed at my presence. “You still live?”

  “Your eyes still work, Meena. It’s me and your wound isn’t that bad.”

  She smiled. “I’m not hurting that bad, I’m just tired, Warrior. I couldn’t keep running, I had to rest.”

  I hooked an arm under her legs and another around her shoulders and lifted her up, ignoring her protestations.

  “Put me down,’ she bawled. “This is…it’s embarrassing.”

  “I promised Dwan that I would look after you and I damn well mean to do it.”

  After a few moments of struggling she calmed down. “I promised her the same about you,” she said. “Fine, but when we get close to the bridges you put me down. I will walk through those gates.”

  “If we don’t hurry neither one of us will get there.”

  And so we ran on, all of us, me barely managing to carry Meena, others carrying others. Behind us we heard the Greys chanting and yelling as the number of them that had made their way down to the valley floor grew. I risked a glance over my shoulder and saw that some were walking toward us now, eager for the order to attack. The Greys that had been involved in the original battle and were still left alive on the battlefield, some ten thousand or so, were also laughing and gesturing our way, enjoying the sight of our retreat after they had suffered so many defeats.

  We were close now, no more than a hundred yards from the bridges that spanned the defense troughs. I could see the small force that we had left behind to man the walls. They were calling to us, urging us onward toward safety, however brief.

  Then I saw a man.

  He was bloody and covered with dust. He held a war hammer in each hand. And he was halfway between the bridges and Meena and I. And he wasn’t running. He was walking. Away from the city.

  I stared at him thinking he had gone mad in all of the turmoil. But he looked calm. Determined, but calm. As I got closer I noticed something that looked familiar about him. He did not walk, he strode. His shoulders were wide, his head held high. And he continued to walk away from the city, in the direction of the enemy. Those who passed him shouted out to him, trying to bring him to his senses and reverse his direction. But still he strode forward. There was something noble about him. Something proud.

  Meena leaned forward and squinted. “It’s Ruguer. Put me down. Put me down!”

  I dropped her feet and she swung to a standing position. We both rushed to our commander’s side. Meena stood directly in front of him, forcing him to stop. She took his head in her hands so that he had to look into her eyes.

  Ruguer’s uniform was filthy and caked with drying mud and blood. The scar over his eye was a blazing red color and he was streaked with sweat that mixed with dust and run down his face. I could see several bleeding wounds.

  “We’re lost,” Meena told him. “The Greys had thousands of fighters hidden in reserve up in the bluffs. We must hurry back inside and close the gates.”

  Ruguer held her gaze for a second then he surprised her by taking her head into his hands letting the war hammers dangle from their thongs. She was shocked when he leaned forward and gently kissed her.

  “Go,” he said. “Take shelter inside. Sneak out if you can and make for the coast. Live as long as you can.” He smiled. “This world needs beauty such as yours.”

  He left her standing in a state of awe as he gripped his weapons again, walked around her and continued on toward the enemy. She turned to follow him, catching at his sleeve. “What are you doing? That way lies death. We are beaten. Come with me, Love. Stay alive. You’ve done all you could do. But it is over. Your death buys us nothing.”

  He continued on, not even slowing. His fingers opened and closed on his weapons.

  He walked past me, honoring me with a pat on my shoulder, stretching high up to reach it.

  “Take care of them, Legend. Take care of all of them.”

  I turned and watched him walk toward the enemy. Never in my life had I seen anyone exhibit such courage. This was not a man driven crazy by war. He was not expecting anyone to follow him. He was not a giant. He was not a legend. He was just a man. A man of incalculable honor. And his sense of duty was leading him in the direction his honor dictated. It was a simple and glorious decision he was making and it was the only decision he was capable of.

  I don’t know how it happened, I don’t recall making the decision, but I found myself walking beside him. He did not try to send me back with pretty words. He just kept walking.

  Meena was beside us. She reached over and took one of his hammers. She put the weapon in one hand and took his hand in the other. And we marched forward.

  Cries and shouts flowed out from the city walls, people were urging us to turn back, calling us inside. I reached back to where I had sheathed my bloodied sword and drew it out. My hands ached from where they had been blistered and bruised from wielding it all day. I paid it no mind.

  Across the valley from us the Greys were now apparently fully assembled on the valley floor and starting in our direction. Some jogged, others walked quickly, not eager to spend their energy on running.

  And still we marched forward.

  I heard the sounds of scuffing feet and the ring of m
etal on metal. Others came running up from behind us. The noble people of Olvion, the people to whom I had voluntarily given my loyalty, were forming up behind and beside us. Dozens at first. Then more.

  I did not look back to see them but I knew they were there. I could hear them. Hundreds now. Voices around us were now shouting, not in fear but in solidarity. It was a call to arms. A call to fight and to die, a refusal to concede defeat. It was like an understanding had settled upon our collective consciousness. We would not go out like cowards. We would not run away and hide in fear behind our walls as the enemy swarmed over them to kill and butcher our children. And we would not leave this evil horde alive to do to our brothers and sisters in the Coastal Kingdoms what they had done to the people of Olvion.

  People began to pass us now. Warriors in torn and bloodied uniforms. There were house maids clutching kitchen knives. Farriers and smiths swinging hammers. Farmers bore scythes, young people, boys and girls, barely into their teens carried poles and pipes and sharp tools.

  The Greys were moving faster now, growing closer.

  And still we marched forward.

  Two hundred dusty, blood-soaked yards now separated us from our enemy. The heat of the day camouflaged their lines with distorting waves and the dust choked us. Flies and black birds were everywhere, feasting on the newly-offered meat. The copper-like scent of blood was strong.