Now Ruguer quickened his pace. I heard a cheer raised behind us. What could they possibly be cheering about? I thought of all of the good people who had died fighting for their King and kingdom. Layann, Crain, Mag-Gan. Maybe Vynn and Gallan for all I knew. All dead because these inhuman bastards wanted to treat us like cattle. I thought of Dwan. My beautiful and wonderful Dwan. Would she escape and seek temporary safety on the coast? I prayed such would be the case. I prayed that, just once, she would not be so wonderful as to stay where she was needed until death sought her out. I prayed but I knew her too well.
I will see you soon my love.
We were a hundred and fifty yards away when Ruguer raised his hammer.
“For Olvion,” he shouted. The crowd around us roared and repeated his words, “For Olvion”. Ruguer began to jog then. We all matched his pace, forgetting our exhaustion and running straight into the maw of a certain but honorable death.
I found myself raising my sword and shouting, “For Zander!”
“For Zander,” the crowd echoed.
Now the noise around me grew deafening. The sounds of stumbling feet on dusty ground. I was amazed at how loud it was. The floor of the valley itself rumbled with the pounding of feet. Were there really that many of us left? Had all of our warriors now turned around and joined us in our mad rush into death? Certainly we were seeing the civilians of Olvion among us but could there be that many? A few thousand pitifully armed civilians and youngsters alongside thirty thousand or fewer warriors who were completely spent?
We did not look back, we ran forward. I felt energy well up inside me, burning away my fatigue. Who could not be energized by such courage that was on display all around me? I increased my speed.
The Greys had watched our approach with cautious curiosity. They knew they had enough fresh fighters to prevail but they appeared to be at a loss as to what they should make of our wholesale rush to suicide. Then there was shouting from behind their lines as their king and officers urged them forward. They started out slowly like us then gained confidence and sped their attack. Bloodlust started to take hold of them. Days of watching their brother’s fall at the hands of our forces emboldened them to take revenge. As they ran their caution waned. They growled and shouted for blood and flesh in their language.
And still we ran forward.
When there was only the length of a football field separating us a warrior bearing a lance galloped past us on horseback. I was surprised to see this because I thought all of our cavalry had been destroyed. Then two more passed us on the other side. I noticed their uniforms. They were blue and brown and they were clean. That fact barely registered but it tickled something in the back of my brain.
A dozen warriors also in blue and brown ran past us to our right. Then twenty or so more passed on the left. These wore clean green uniforms with yellow epaulets on their shoulders. They were running with no hint of fatigue.
More horses passed us, racing toward the enemy, lances down and ready. The noise coming from our rear was now deafening. The sound of feet pounding on ground was growing louder. There more cheers reaching out from behind. And…was it more hoof beats?
I looked over my shoulder then and saw thousands…no…tens of thousands of fresh infantry and more cavalry than I could even begin to estimate were passing them on either side. The mounted warriors passed those on foot and converged in front of Ruguer and me and the remaining Olvionis. They all wore different colors in their uniforms and they all left us behind as they spurred their mounts to battle.
Our courage was fresh but our bodies were waning. Even the infantry passed us now, running full out as they shouted the words; “For Olvion! For Zander!”
The galloping cavalry closed up in front of us as they passed.
Before my vision was obscured by tears I saw the Greys. They were running away.
“They flee,” someone yelled. Another cheer rose up.
Then there was a furious sound of sharp metal lance tips piercing grey flesh. Horses screamed again but this time seeming in fury rather than pain. Over the heads of the mounted fighters I saw helmets and whole grey bodies fly, knocked into the air by the enormous energy of a full cavalry charge consisting of thousands of horsemen.
We could have stopped there. There were at least three times the number of fresh human warriors than were Greys. Add to that the huge mounted force that had been brought against them and the outcome was obvious. But this was our kingdom and our valley. And it was our king who had died.
We came into the fight behind the fresh troops of the Coastal Kingdoms. Ruguer, Meena and I waded in, our weapons swinging, seeking out grey flesh. We fought our way to a group of fifty or so of the bastards hiding in a small loop of hills and set upon them as if they were the ones who were outnumbered, not us. Meena screamed with each blow of her hammer.
“Die, you bastards!”
Ruguer smashed away at heads, shoulders, arms and anything that came within striking distance. What he didn’t crush I chopped. Blood sprayed over all of us, so much that I could barely see. But I could see enough. Others were coming in behind us, citizens of Olvion and of the coastal cities. I saw Vynn to my left laying into the enemy with a captured battle axe. The knot of Greys broke and tried to escape by climbing up the surrounding hill walls. They were grabbed by bloody hands and yanked back down to their deaths.
We cleaned out the little hive of Greys and plunged back into the larger battle. I saw three or four people that I took to be the military commanders of the Coastal Kingdoms. They were easy to spot, each of them riding magnificent mounts and surrounded by their guards. The blood and gore dripping from their armor marked them as men not afraid to fight alongside their subordinates. One turned in his saddle and seemed to recognize me. I was befuddled because I had never seen him before. He was so tall that his legs had to bend to fit the stirrups and he had a patch covering one eye. He turned and spurred his horse in our direction. I readied myself to greet him when he looked across from me and hailed Ruguer. It made sense, one military commander would probably recognize his peers from past meetings and such. The two engaged in deep conversation shouted into each one’s ear to be heard over the clamor of battle. Meena stayed close to watch Ruguer’s back and I turned away to find more Greys.
There weren’t many left. The large numbers of the remaining enemy had made for a huge melee. But they were outnumbered several times over and could not stop from being carved up into smaller groups then dispatched as they sought to run. All around this valley horsemen were riding down the raiders and dispatching them either with lance or mace. The infantry, enjoying numerical superiority, were methodically surrounding the enemy in their smaller groups and engaging them hand-to-hand. I made a mental note to myself that the myth of two warriors being needed to fight one Grey was now forever exposed as a lie.
The earthen ramp that the Greys had built for the purpose of ambushing our army was now used by the cavalry to pursue the retreating enemy. I watched as wave after wave of mounted warriors scrambled their horses up the construction and out of sight on the other side of the bluffs. I knew what everyone was thinking. There would be no compassion, no quarter, no end of killing until every grey invader was dead. We would buy centuries of peace for our descendants just as King Ausloe and his warriors had provided for our previous generations. The Greys had come here anticipating wholesale slaughter. They found it. But it was not the type they sought.
I eventually ran out of targets to attack. The parts of the battle that were still raging were too far away for me to be of any help. I looked around and saw that the Olvioni Warriors had now finally given in to their fatigue and were standing bent over with hands on their knees or sitting down in the dust. It didn’t seem like a bad idea and I almost gave in to it. But then I remembered Tinker lying bloody on that filthy cot.
Frantically I searched around until I saw the tent. It had partially collapsed but I couldn’t tell if that was because it had been overrun in the battle or had
just fallen from wind gusts. I started toward it. My mind begged me to run or even to jog but I had no spare energy left. Besides, whether she was alive or dead a few more minutes would not make a lot of difference. I sheathed my sword across my back and stumbled my way closer. My many wounds flared with pain now that there was no combat to steal my attention. Blood flowed over my legs and down from my injured shoulder. I paid it no mind, I was too tired even to wipe it away.
As I walked I kept turning my head to watch the war. It was now almost over. I could see fighting in the heights on top of the bluffs as our forces continued to pursue the enemy. They were all fleeing now. The only fighting going on was where some of the beasts had been surrounded and had no way to escape.
Halfway to the tent I reached out to Tinker with my mind, calling, seeking a connection. None came. I prepared myself for what I was probably going to find. I hated myself for leaving her when I could have gotten her to Dwan for care. But that option had been nixed by Tinker herself.
I skirted past a cooking fire with two big smoking kettles over a partially collapsed cooking frame. I shuddered to think what may be inside them. The tent flap was mostly closed. I squatted down on my haunches and peered into the gloomy darkness.
“Tinker?”
No answer. No sounds.
I threw the flap up and tucked it into a tie rope to hold it open, then took another look inside and couldn’t see much more than I had before. I scrambled in bent over at the waist.
A thousand sparks exploded in front of my eyes and I was knocked to the ground from behind. Stunned, it took me a few seconds to realize that my sword was being pulled away from its sheath. I made an anemic grab for it and was punished with another blow that was just a little bit harder than the first one. This one I was able to take on my shoulder because I saw a shadow on my right side and guessed what was coming. Which was not to say that it didn’t hurt because…it did.
I lashed out with my legs to my right and connected with what seemed like a knee. The scream that issued forth from that direction told me I was probably right. But my attacker now had my sword and he was trying to get into position to use it on me. I struggled into a pushup position and rolled to my left. A “snick” coming from my right told me I had just evaded being cut in two by my own sword.
The light was the same but my eyes were now getting adjusted to the dimness. I could make out a Grey, larger than most of them coming at me fast. I rolled again, then again, frantically trying to put some distance between me and this beast, my fatigue forgotten in my panic. I lucked out when he lunged and tripped on a small copper-topped table. It wasn’t that heavy but he wasn’t expecting it to be there and it made him lose balance and fall forward. Now I was up on my feet and he was the one on the ground. He struggled to stand but I gave him a hard shove from behind and he went over again.
I cast around frantically for a weapon. I knew this guy was armored because I had felt his breastplate so I would need something sharp or heavy. I could see nothing. I grabbed a heavy skin from another table and threw it over his head to blind him. He fought with the pelt for a few seconds and I used the time to find a chain. It was about four feet in length and had a solid iron ball on one end and a leather collar on the other. It was just the sort of thing a malevolent monarch might use to punish or control a slave.
I wrapped two feet of the heavy links around my wrist and forearm and let the heavy ball dangle. Yeah, this would do it.
When my opponent finally threw the skin off of him and saw where I was he stopped and looked at my face. I saw recognition in his eyes. Well, Hell, I wasn’t that hard to recognize here in this valley. I was a whole head taller than even the tallest of humans or Greys and I was probably the only person in this entire world with blonde hair. I wasn’t too surprised to see that he recognized me.
He still held my sword but he started circling me cautiously now that he saw the weapon I had dangling from my hand. My eyes were even better acclimated to the light now and I could see that he was wearing gold armor. This, then, was the Grey King. He had fled back here for some reason, leaving his followers to die without him. I watched him as he struggled with the weight of my weapon.
To my surprise he spoke to me in passable Olvioni tongue.
“You, the big human,” he slurred. “Yes you, the one who killed my people at the wall. At least I will have your head to take back to my people. When they see your yellow hair they will know that it was evil magic that defeated our fighters.”
I began some circling of my own now. The sword, though heavy, was still a superior weapon to my ball and chain. It had a much longer reach which I would have to get inside of before I could hope to bring mine to bear. But I figured if he was going to talk a little smack I should probably give it back to him. Maybe make him mad.
“Sorry there king. The songs of your humiliating defeat will be sung around the fires of both of our people. You and your overwhelming army with three times as many fighters as us. Your people died by the thousands because you were weak. And your leadership was weak. You are a weak king, and a stupid king. Your followers are dead. They will call you the Coward King who ran away as your people died on the field of battle.”
That did it. He roared in anger and rushed me. He got in one good stroke with my sword that I caught on my forearm guard. Then I whipped the iron ball over my shoulder and right onto the top of His Highness’ head. He went down hard and I gave him a few more licks for good luck. Then a few more after that.
I dropped the bloody ball and went over to where I had left Tinker. She was still on the cot next to the dim glow bulb. Miraculously she had gone unnoticed by the beast king. I picked her up, still wrapped in a cloth and hurried out of the tent. As exhausted as I was I now found the energy to run.
CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN
Victory
I stood in line with Dwan, waiting for our turn. She was happy and had maybe taken a bit too much of the spirits that were offered to everyone waiting in line to be seated. I’d had a little too much myself. I don’t normally like to drink but I told myself it was to counteract the pain in my back. Turns out the back wound I had received in the big battle from a spear had penetrated farther into my body than I had been aware. I bent down to wrap my arms around my lady. She was beautiful tonight, wearing her finest clothes and smelling of something pleasant that I could not identify. We had spent the last two weeks recovering from the damage that the war had done to our kingdom.
I passed a couple of days in the hospital, watched over by a vigilant Dwan who threatened me with a withholding of sexual favors should I defy her orders. Faced with that prospect I kept my mouth shut and did everything she and the other healers told me to do. I was sprung two days later and claimed my prize for good behavior. Dwan still works at least half of the day taking care of the almost overwhelming number of wounded.
The kingdom has survived, of course. The Coastal Kingdoms were sending everything they had to help us recover including people. Every day caravans arrived bringing food, lumber and medical supplies. They were suffering from the shame of dithering too long and leaving almost the entire war for us to fight. But they came through in the end. I had it on good authority that the Kings and military commanders finally persuaded their sitting members of parliament that they were not going to sit on their hands while Olvion died protecting the human race. Seeing a mutiny and loss of position in their futures the members of all three parliaments authorized the military to reinforce us.
With the unfortunate passing of my good friend King Zander we were left without a monarch. Brackus heard about Zander’s fall while cowering in Aspell and immediately sent for a military escort to return to Olvion and claim the crown. He had earlier snuck out and fled our city for the safety of the coast. It was the source of much conversation when he came up missing one morning on the trip back, apparently carried off by wild animals in the night. Vynn, my good friend had volunteered to be one of the “Honor Guard” that went to fetch him back t
o Olvion. Vynn and every other member of that detachment testified that they had seen him being dragged away from the fire by a predatory cat. They assured us that a rescue had been attempted…first thing the following morning. So we were, once again, left without a leader.
An election was hastily arranged even though everyone knew that Ruguer would be chosen. There were others in the parliament that were before him in line but the example set by Brackus seemed to rob them of their ambition. The lifelong soldier balked about giving up his military command but was finally persuaded that he was needed in the higher office.
“Your Majesty,” Dwan said with a shallow curtsy as we reached the front of the line. The new king took her hand and favored her with a kiss to each cheek. I stepped up.
“Congratulations Your Majesty.”
Ruguer looked miserable. He wore a heavy blue coronation robe over his shoulders and a thin gold crown balanced on his head. His usual utilitarian uniform had been replaced with a glitzy ceremonial affair festooned with braids and ribbons and medals. He looked at me and I could not hold back a small chuckle.
“Tag, be nice,” Dwan whispered.
“Yes Tag, be nice,” the new king advised in a voice too low for others to hear. “You wouldn’t want me to assign you to stable duty when you heal.”
I performed a long and low bow (and was painfully reminded of my wound). “Of course, Your Majesty. My humblest of apologies.”
Ruguer adjusted his crown for the hundredth time that night and motioned to the beautiful woman standing next to him. “Take these two and show them to a suitable table,” he ordered.
Meena smiled and took Dwan’s arm. She led us past the man of the hour who still had a few hundred people yet to formally welcome to the celebratory coronation dinner. Representatives from all of the kingdoms were here along with their attendants. I was not too surprised when she steered us over to the royal table. We had all grown quite close in the time after the battle.
The Olvion Reality (The Chronicles of Olvion Book 1) Page 49
