by Peter Last
Dawn was just breaking as the defending dragons returned from hunting down their counterparts. Death and carnage met their eyes and the eyes of the soldiers on the wall as the sun flooded the earth with its brilliant rays. The enemy army had disbanded and fled in the night, leaving the entire camp and all of its contents. Several trails of discarded equipment showed that they had escaped in all directions with only a very few of them heading back to Vollexa Temp. This army of Vollexa Temp had effectively been broken.
The leaders of Belmoth’s army sensed a trap and sent out squads of eight horsemen to investigate each direction the enemy appeared to have gone. All the soldiers returned with the same message: Molkekk’s army had fled and was not going to return. They also brought back a small portion of the contents of the enemy camp. Next, a squad of dragons was sent out to scour the countryside for the enemy, and they returned with the same message.
The gates of the city finally opened up and the people spewed out, prepared to pillage the enemy camp. From the wall, Timothy could see all that happened. He saw the commanders of the army trying to maintain command of their soldiers but to no avail. The rush for the enemy tents was turning into an all-out race, and Timothy knew what would happen when the people reached them. The fighting and quarreling would begin as the soldiers each tried to carry off the best of the loot for themselves.
Quickly, Timothy scanned the sky for dragons and located a few of them still circling over the enemy camp as well as two which were approaching the city. Frantically he waved his hands at these two and motioned for them to land on the wall. As they drew closer, one of them dropped toward the wall while the other one pulled upward and blasted overhead. Timothy hunched over as the dragon passed and waited for the small whirlwind that accompanied its presence to subside. When he looked up, he saw that the other dragon had landed on the wall and was perched on it less than a hundred yards from where he was. Its tail was curled around a tower and pieces of rock had been knocked loose where its feet had set down. Timothy began to run toward the dragon and its rider, and as he approached he realized that luck was with him. The dragon was a muddy brown color which meant his rider was Senndra. Senndra had slid off of her dragon by the time Timothy reached her.
“The army is going berserk,” Timothy shouted when he was close enough for his voice to reach her. “They’re going on a looting rampage, and if they are allowed to reach the enemy camp, we’ll cause more casualties to our own army than the enemy ever did.”
Senndra didn’t say anything, but the look in her eye indicated that she understood perfectly. Without hesitation, she scrambled up onto her dragon and spoke to it. Before she was even properly seated in the saddle, Feddir had burst from the wall and was banking sharply around. He gave a series of roars to the dragon with which he had approached the wall, and the two of them flew toward the enemy camp.
The dragons that had been circling the enemy camp were now returning to the city, but another series of roars turned them around. Altogether, nine dragons slammed down onto the ground well in front of the unruly army and roared as loud as they could, sending jets of fire into the sky. Their impact with the ground was so violent that Timothy saw the soldiers in front get thrown to the ground. Even the wall underneath him shook slightly. He saw the tongues of fire first and then the roar reached him. The force of it made his knees involuntarily tremble, and he saw that the army which had only moments ago been eagerly rushing forward, come to a sudden stop. Already many of the soldiers were rushing back toward the city. Even though the beasts bore the insignia of Magessa, they were not about to rush into them, frenzied as they were. Another set of roars from the dragons sent the remainder of the army after their compatriots.
Timothy let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding and gave a sigh of relief. He turned and almost ran into Vladimir. After a quick apology, the two friends walked down the wall.
“That was quick thinking on your part,” Vladimir commented as they walked. “I would never have thought of using dragons to stop that.”
“I don’t know what the soldiers thought they were doing,” Timothy said more to himself than to Vladimir. “Or maybe they weren’t thinking at all. That seems more likely.”
“No, they were thinking,” Vladimir said. “They were thinking about themselves and that is all. They weren’t thinking about the consequences of their actions, only about what they thought they would gain from them. The only question now is, how are they going to be punished for their disobedience?”
“How much of the army broke ranks?” Timothy asked.
“Well, Lemin had the soldiers from the academy in strict order, and none of them would dare to disobey him, so they stayed. Other than that, there was one, maybe two platoons and a few odd squads that didn’t break.”
“What drives the thinking of men when they will forsake everything to loot an enemy camp?” Timothy muttered. “Surely that is not what Elohim would have them to do.”
“I hate to break this to you, but I don’t think very many of the soldiers here care what Elohim wants. From hearing the way they talk, only about one in five actually believe that Elohim exists, and of those, who knows how many care about following His commands.”
“You’re right, unfortunately,” Timothy said with a sigh. “It seems no one is interested in following Elohim anymore. Maybe the reason for this attack is to punish us.”
“We won the battle. How is that a punishment?”
“It may be more of one than you realize,” Timothy answered as he started down the stairs. “Victory seems to be almost too much for these soldiers. This time it drove them into an insane frenzy. There is also the fact that the more victories we have, the cockier the soldiers will get. If the enemy gets wise to that fact, they could fake a retreat and then reform and fall on our men when they rush out of rank after them. The result of something like that would be devastating.”
“What it really comes down to is this,” Vladimir said as he stopped at the bottom of the stairs and faced Timothy. “The condition our country is in now is deplorable. People who worship false gods or no one at all far outnumber those who worship Elohim. If He chooses to uphold us, that is His prerogative, but if He chooses to hand us over to our enemies, He has ample reason to do so.”
“True,” Timothy agreed and ended the discussion with that one word.
******
The whip whistled through the air and cracked as it hit the man’s bare back. The man grunted and jerked slightly against the bonds that held him to the whipping post but showed no other signs of the pain the strike had caused him. This man was a true soldier and had volunteered to be the first to receive his punishment. The man with the whip struck again, and this time the one being punished showed no outward signs of the anguish he must have been in. Instead he clenched his eyes and laid his head forward on the post. The whip struck again with such a loud cracking sound that Senndra cringed inwardly. Still the punished man made no move.
The area surrounding the whipping post was completely silent except for the sound of the whip striking flesh again and again. The post, along with nine others, had been erected in the field outside of Belmoth. The others were still empty and their operators were dragging the men that they would have to punish toward them.
In that way the soldier who was already being whipped was different. He had not struggled against the punishment. Instead, when the army had arrived to begin the whipping, this soldier had been standing by the post, waiting. A ring of people had surrounded the posts as he was being fastened to it. The soldiers that had obeyed their orders stood on one side and the vast majority of the army stood on the other side. It would take all day for all of the malefactors to be punished.
When the soldier was securely fastened, the punisher raised his whip and brought it down with amazing force and a tremendous crack. The soldiers who were waiting to be punished gave a collective gasp and pulled back, but dragons surrounded them, so there was no hope of escape. The whip struck again
, and the man tied to the post jerked. Some of the condemned soldiers tried to break away, but a roar from the dragons stopped them dead in their tracks.
The other nine men who had been assigned to whipping duty grabbed the closest soldiers and began to drag them to their posts. One final crack of the whip, louder than any of the rest, stopped all action for a second. The man doing the whipping unfastened the other’s hands, and the young soldier collapsed on the ground. All eyes watched as two men ran out, hoisted the unconscious man onto their shoulders, and took him toward the city. Once they had broken through the circle surrounding the whipping posts, everyone came back to life. The punishers dragged their protesting victims to the posts and tied them to them. Now the place came alive with the cracking of whips on bare skin and the screams of men in pain.
When Senndra could no longer stand the sound of anguish, she quietly slipped out of the circle and walked away. The sounds followed her into the city, and in an attempt to escape from it, she slipped into the nearest building. She shut the door and let her head fall against it. She stood that way for several moments before straightening and turning to see what building she had entered. The interior of the building which the cadets had converted for their own use was before her, and she immediately felt more comfortable in the familiar setting. She fell onto a couch and laid face down on it, trying to force the screams of the punished men from her memory. She lay that way until she lost track of time. She tried her best to push the horrifying images from her mind, but found that they simply would not leave. Finally she rose from the couch and started to pace in front of it.
Back and forth she walked, trying to get her brain to think about something, anything. Yet every time she started thinking about something else, the men getting whipped jumped back to the forefront of her thoughts. Finally she could pace no more. Pulling a chair from beneath the table, she sank into it. She let her head fall onto the table top and felt paper there. Raising her head, she pulled a sheet from the pile that stood there and looked at it.
A blinding light flashed and a series of scenes flew before her eyes. Saddun’s gates stood open, barely hanging on their broken hinges. Smoke curled from the burned remains of buildings, and the streets were deserted. Another city flashed before her eyes. This one was not burned down, but smoke curled from it, and several of the buildings were aflame. People ran through the streets as they were chased by soldiers clad in dark armor.
Next was an army marching through heavy rain, sloughing down a muddy road. It was followed by another army, this one hoisting flags which bore the insignia of Molkekk.
Senndra hadn't even thought about the man in her vision for the past six months. It took her several moments to recognize him; he seemed much older than she remembered and the light shading of his jaw indicated the beginnings of a beard. Nevertheless, she was able to identify Josiah as he led a group of men through a forest. She wondered how he had fared since the dwarves had attacked, but didn’t have much time to ponder this as the scenes changed quickly.
Josiah and his friends were in a city, though not one that Senndra recognized. The buildings were taller than any she had ever seen, and the sky was filled with lights even though it was night. They stood before someone who appeared to be a king, and then another army was marching, this one through a forest. The scene changed one last time, and Senndra found herself staring at nothing. There was light everywhere, but there was nothing there, just the light and despite the carnage she had witnessed, she felt strangely calm.
Then in a flash she found herself back in the building in Belmoth. The paper she held slid from her fingers and fell to the table. She slumped back in her chair, unsure of what to make of her vision. The last time she had had a vision, it had come true which was enough to convince her to take this one seriously.
What she wasn’t as sure of was if what she had seen had already happened or was still to occur. Was there anything that she could do to stop it from happening? The more she thought about the questions, the more confused she became, and her thoughts swirled around with no real pattern to them. She also found that her eyelids were becoming heavy and slowly closing. She fought the urge to go to sleep for some time but lost in the end. That was how Vladimir found her later, slumped down in her chair with her head resting on the table.
******
The General sat atop his horse and assessed the situation around him. His army stretched from the Orc Range on his left to the Accri Forest on his right. At their backs was the Péle River with no good way to get over it. All in all, the situation was not as good as Josiah had made it out to be, but, then again, it was better than any the army would have found elsewhere.
At the thought of Josiah, the General’s mind went to his soldier and the mission he had started out on. Would he be able to convince the elves that they should aid the humans? Would he even be able to find his way to Lêf? And if he did convince the elf king, what were the chances the elf reinforcements would be enough to turn the tide of battle? The enemy army was not in sight yet, but the General’s scouts had informed him that it was not far away and would arrive by nightfall. They also brought reports of the strength of their numbers and all of these reports were disheartening. It appeared that their numbers could have even grown slightly since their attack on Saddun.
A commotion started at the Accri Forest and steadily grew. The General turned to see what it was about and saw the massive forms of ogres lumbering out of the trees. Finally there was some good news. With the ogres added to his men, there was a slightly better chance of holding off the enemy, but their chances were still not good.
The General kicked his horse and rode toward the forest to greet his reinforcements. As he approached, he began to realize just how huge the ogres really were. Every one of them was at least ten feet tall, and their limbs were as large as trees. Some carried massive clubs, others battle axes, and others humongous crossbows. The bows were so large that they shot bolts as long as the General’s arm. The General swallowed and was very glad that the ogres were there to fight on his side.
The General approached the ogre leading the army and saluted him. Sliding from his horse, he approached the ogre commander and again saluted. The ogre returned the gesture.
“So, you are the General of this army, little one.” The ogre’s voice boomed out, and the General had to make a conscious effort not to flinch.
“That is correct,” he replied. “I am the General.”
“We are here to aid you in the coming battle,” the ogre said. “You are the one who is wise in military strategy, so we are at your disposal. Where would you have us go?”
“I have a plan that might do some significant damage to the enemy,” the General said. “It is a bit risky, but I think that it could work. Since your men will have a large part in it, I would like to discuss it with you before we implement it.”
“Very well,” the ogre said. “Explain this plan to me.”
The General and the ogre walked off together, the General doing most of the talking and the ogre only interjecting every once in a while. An hour later, the ogre commander had agreed to the plan, and the army started to prepare.
Night had fallen by the time the enemies arrived, and the General fully expected them not to attack until the following day. However, they immediately prepared their battle lines and started advancing on the thin line of Magessa’s soldiers stretched from the mountains to the forest. They also set up their siege engines and began to hurl rocks at the soldiers, but these did very little damage and served only to cause a small amount of worry.
As Molkekk’s soldiers approached they were able to get a clearer view of the small, Magessian army that stood against them. Only men composed the line, and they were spread rather thinly. Perhaps too thinly, the commander of the attacking army thought, and he ordered his men to approach with caution. He also ordered several squads of horsemen to advance on the line and test its strength. These horsemen received light fire from bowmen, but that was all.
No one bothered to follow them when they retreated back to their own lines. Molkekk’s commander was still not convinced of the forces of his adversary, so he ordered his line to spread out until it stretched from the mountains to a point opposite the Accri Forest. He ordered the advance of his men and stopped the incessant firing of rocks from his siege engines.
The enemy line slowly advanced on the forces of Magessa, uncertain of what might be hiding, but certain that their numbers would be more than sufficient to deal with it. When they came within range of the other army’s bowmen, they quickened their pace. The army of Magessa fired on them again and again, but the damage the arrows caused them was insignificant compared to their numbers, and Molkekk’s soldiers continued to advance without hesitation.
The distance between the armies diminished until only a hundred yards lay between them, then fifty, then twenty five, then a dozen. The line of Molkekk’s army bowed as the soldiers in the middle rushed forward to begin the fight. The first ring of a sword on armor that broke the silence seemed particularly shrill and was followed by many more. Then the whole of the armies collided, and the sound of steel on steel filled the plain for miles around.
The army of Magessa held their line, but slowly they were pushed back toward the river at their backs. A horn rang out from the lines of Magessa, but nothing appeared to change. Those nearest the forest saw shadows coming from the trees, but they were unable to cry out before the ogres swept them away. Clubs and battle axes swung as the ogres punched their way through the enemy ranks. Their movements were obscured by the darkness as they used a specialized rushing technique. The ogres at the front of the army were the only ones doing the killing, but these were constantly changing, rolling down the outside of the army and falling in again at the rear. Then they would charge forward again and gain momentum until they again hit the enemy soldiers. This movement allowed the ogres to charge out of the forest and down the front line of the enemy. And in all of these maneuvers, they were completely silent. Never did even one of their soldiers give a roar to indicate that they were present. In this way they swept through the enemy ranks, a deadly tide that took many lives.
