by H. J. Cronin
He rode upon his dark armoured bone chariot with his necromancer ahead of the mighty column flanked by his remaining council members. Count Drakar had been absent for some time, and Count Darkool could see him approaching; he had been sent to discover how the search for the Night Hunter was going.
Count Drakar honed in on his master, ‘My lord, it’s Varko – he has perished, defeated by the hands of the Eagle’s son, along with a small number of Blood Guard.’
The news angered Count Darkool who done well to hide his frustration. ‘Bad news indeed Count Drakar, I knew I could not rely on that worthless blood sucker. We must destroy that son of Haramithir before he finds a way to destroy me. You go and find the remaining Blood Guard and hunt that bastard down, he will no longer make a fool out of me.’
‘But my lord, I hunger for the coming fight,’ Drakar dared to argue.
‘That is the last time you will question my order, young Drakar. Next time I will rip your head from your shoulders,’ Darkool said with a snarl.
‘Apologies my lord, it will not happen again.’ Drakar said, bowing.
‘Good. Now move along, I have a city to take.’ With that Drakar rode off once again into the distance; Darkool had more faith in him than the last vampire he had sent.
The army marched on. Flordonium could now be seen in the distance and its huge central citadel was seen for miles. A great dark cloud followed the army – the undead were not friends of daylight, it did not harm them but it weakened them. A weakness they could not afford in the coming battle. Count Darkool gazed at the distant city with hunger in his eyes and a picture in his mind of the devastation he would cause to the human population there. He smiled at the thought and carried on.
Tumnis sat in his apartment in Flordonium enjoying a lovely meal cooked by his beautiful wife. The captain of the city’s defence looked up at his wife and she gave him the same smile which he had fallen in love with many years ago. Their two young children Jargon and Janet sat quietly tucking into the delicious food in front of them. Today it was lamb shanks with foreign potatoes. He was middle-aged and had long black hair, tied back. A distinguishable scar ran from his forehead over his left eye and down his cheek.
Tumnis and his family lived on the third tier of Flordonium, the rich quarter which was a different world entirely from the middle class second level, and even more so from the alien poor districts of the first level. The huge city had the largest population in Wilmurin and its largest army. The capital served as a peacemaker, even though the world had known peace for twenty years.
His large stone apartment was very richly furnished and always presented beautifully. Life was good for Tumnis. But it had not always been this way. He had once lived on the poor first level, and after his parents died he immediately joined the army and quickly rose through the ranks. He had fought valiantly against the Vandalore Clan in the last war and earned the title of Defender of Flordonium. His job now was to defend the great city against any threats, an easy job as there had been no threat to the capital for many, many years. Tumnis never got complacent and always ensured his men were well trained, and he always had a plan of defence for the great city which had never fallen to an attack.
‘Lovely dinner, darling,’ Tumnis complimented his wife, Jo. ‘I must be off to work now,’ he said, standing up and giving his wife a kiss. ‘I will be back by nightfall. Make sure the children are asleep on time.’
‘Of course Captain Tumnis,’ she said with a smile. ‘I will be waiting for you to warm our bed this night,’ she said, out of ear shot of the children, and winked.
With that lovely image in his head, Tumnis left his apartment and went to the barracks to check on the city’s defences. He walked through the busy upper class streets of the third level. Classes were not allowed to mix, only those selling wares were allowed on the upper level. Tumnis saw merchants in rags from the first level trying their hardest to flog their worthless goods to the rich, as well as some middle class merchants selling half decent wares. Tumnis ignored the endless haggling of the busy market as he did every day.
He approached the large iron gate to the second floor and greeted the guards. ‘Afternoon Garon, Larry,’ he said, nodding his head in acknowledgment at the two guards.
Garon and Larry both looked at Tumnis and simultaneously said, ‘Afternoon Captain,’ followed by a salute.
They opened the gates for the captain and Tumnis entered the middle class level of Flordonium. Here people did not dress in the same attire of the richly dressed upper class, but in more everyday clothes, cotton instead of expensive silk. This level was busier than the third but not as packed as the first.
He arrived at the barracks on the second level and organised the night’s watch and the equipment checks. The men liked him and followed every command. Some even wanted him as the High King as they felt the current one was incompetent, but the majority did like High King Jasper. Tumnis had no such ambition anyway. He was to retire in five years’ time and enjoy the rest of his life with his family away from the capital.
After he had issued his daily orders he made his customary walk along the battlements, starting from the third level and making his way down to the first. He spoke to the men to find out if they had any issues or required any sort of assistance, and most were content. After his walk he stood atop one of the towers of the first floor above the huge gates to Flordonium and gazed out onto the land.
Strangely, in the distance, he could see a rider powering towards the city at what appeared to be great speed.
As the rider drew closer Tumnis ordered the gates to be opened. With a loud creak the doors opened inwards and the messenger rode in. Two guards immediately brought him up to Tumnis.
The man was pale and out of breath; by what he wore he was obviously a farmer. ‘Captain, I must see the king immediately!’ he said, with a strong sense of urgency in his voice.
‘Calm down friend, what is it? I act on behalf of the king. Take a deep breath and tell me what has happened,’ Tumnis said to the man gently, and placed a hand on his shoulder.
The man took a deep breath. ‘There is a large army coming this way,’ he started, and the news alerted Tumnis who looked at the man nervously. ‘They have burned my village and killed everybody, they head this way!’
‘Who are they?’ Tumnis asked hastily.
‘I … I … I don’t know sir, they are monsters. Soldiers made from bone, their masters drank blood from the fallen and wore red armour.’
Tumnis gave a startled look and muttered, ‘Count Darkool.’ He had heard the rumours of the count’s return; this seemed to confirm those rumours. He looked back at the man, ‘How far are they from here?’
‘They will be here by dawn.’ That news troubled Tumnis even more but the man continued, ‘Captain, the host is huge they will swallow Flordonium.’
‘Do not worry friend, this city will not fall. Go and get some food and rest, mourn your family. If you can wield a sword you will be of use to me.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ the man said and ran off.
The news had turned a very normal day upside down. For a moment he just wanted to take his family and leave the capital. But no, it was his city to defend. The High King was not charged with its defence so he would be hiding inside his citadel. Tumnis had sixty thousand men to defend the great stone walls of Flordonium against an army of unknown size. He had delayed too long and now was the time to start preparing.
‘You,’ he said, pointing to one of his men. ‘Raise the alarm and you next to him, send word to the men to prepare. We need to be ready to defend the city by dawn.’ The men ran off to carry out his orders. He looked back out in the direction the enemy would come and quickly followed the men down to the ground to help prepare.
Over the next few critical hours Tumnis worked hard to get the defences ready. He had the men prepare the various catapults and ballista's ready to hurl missiles at the enemy. His men were armed and standing on the ramparts waiting for their next ord
ers. The gates were guarded by blocks of men should they be breached. The civilians of the city carried on with their lives, not believing the threat to be real. Tumnis himself wore the golden armour of Flordonium’s nobles. It had the image of an eagle printed on its breast. The rest of the soldiers had steel plated armour and chainmail, well protected against normal weapons.
Tumnis was confident that his men would hold the walls and beat off yet another attack on the capital, the first of its kind for twenty years, and still he held on to hope that the city had never been breached. Someone called his attention and suddenly in the distance he could see a large dark mass approaching the city. The enemy was here.
Count Darkool stood upon his bone chariot with his necromancer, Shalon, and watched his horde march towards the capital. Great bone siege towers moved slowly to the walls dragged by great carrion beasts, and large battering rams manned by skeleton warriors made their way to the iron gate. The army still had some hours before it would be ready for battle but Count Darkool could smell victory.
Shalon looked at his master and then back at Flordonium. ‘First time I have seen the capital, Count Darkool,’ he said looking at the great city. ‘A very impressive sight indeed.’
‘An impressive sight it is, and even more so when it is in flames and the streets run with blood,’ Count Darkool replied with an evil grin.
Count Kharki approached the two on his steed. ‘My lord,’ he started with a bow. ‘Word has arrived that the Dark Tiger Clan has wiped out the light tigers and are marching on the lions. Your plan is succeeding,’ he said, smiling.
‘That is good news, Count Kharki, now go and tell the vampire soldiers to make their way to the front, we only have a thousand of them but use them wisely. You and the other counts will stay with me,’ Count Darkool ordered.
‘Yes, my lord, thank you.’ Count Kharki rode off and passed on his orders to the others.
Once he was gone far enough Shalon looked at Darkool, ‘Count Darkool, once the clans of the south are cleansed and when Flordonium falls, Wilmurin will be yours for the taking.’
‘Well observed, my friend. The Dark Tiger Clan will not defeat the lions, they themselves will be destroyed leaving the Clan of the Lion vulnerable to attack. With the north under control by the Black Widow this war will be very swift indeed.’
‘Very well, my lord,’ Shalon remarked and shifted nervously. ‘My lord, once the war is over what will you do with me?’
‘You will be at my side always. You have served me well thus far – keep it up and you will have immortality.’
Shalon smiled at the unexpected response. He would still be on his guard though, in case the dark count changed his mind. Shaking off these thoughts his mind turned towards the coming battle; he had never been a part of a battle before. Before the Vandalore Clan had taken him he had been a loner who studied the arts of necromancy in a cave hidden in the vast land of Wilmurin.
Within three hours the army was ready for the assault. Their siege towers lined parallel to the walls they would attack, the rams were ready to break down the powerful iron gate, and the catapults were ready to hurl rocks at the city. Count Darkool also had some surprises up his sleeve.
The sun had risen fully in the sky but the dark cloud still hung over the undead horde. Count Darkool stalled for a moment allowing nerves and fear to grip his enemies, and then he ordered an all-out assault. Slowly the siege towers made towards the walls and the catapults began hurling great rocks at the defenders. Count Darkool’s quest to claim the ultimate prize had begun.
Tumnis stood over the main gateway and watched the enormous undead host slowly approaching the city. The great, green open space before Flordonium slowly disappeared under the horde of enemies coming towards them. The captain could make out three dozen huge siege towers along with plenty of artillery; the enemy were well equipped. There seemed to be hundreds of thousands of them, just a dark mass approaching the defenders.
He looked to his left and right, across the great walls of Flordonium at his men. Their pointed helmets glistened in what sun shone through the black clouds that followed Count Darkool. Each man close enough to see had a look of fear on his face. They had fought wars before, but an army on this scale assaulting the city was never expected. Although fear gripped their faces there was a determination about the air to hold the city at all costs and send the attackers back to the underworld.
Once the enemy began closing in on the city Tumnis called out in his largest parade ground voice, ‘Men! Prepare the catapults and fire on my order.’ He then looked about him at the men’s faces and thought a word of encouragement might help. ‘Men, time and time again we have won wars and fought off our enemy, this is no different. That horde out there will show your families no mercy, they know no fear and will kill us all if given the chance. A chance that we will not give them – I will fight to the death! Are you with me?’ he called out, raising his sword into the air and the men cheered loudly, the cheers spreading all the way along the wall and into the courtyard behind the gate.
Tumnis saw that the enemy was now well in range and held his sword in the air. ‘Unleash all fire power!’ he shouted, lowering his arm as he called out the order.
Right on cue the catapults simultaneously released great boulders into the throng of enemies approaching them. Some hit home crushing scores of skeletons as they marched fearlessly towards Flordonium. Tumnis saw a huge rock smash into one of the bone siege towers reducing the top half and its skeleton occupants to bone dust. Minutes later another siege tower was taken out of action and the one next to that was slowed down because one of the almighty carrion beasts pulling it took a direct hit.
Tumnis smiled as numerous ballista missiles rained down on the enemy, wiping out dozens of skeleton warriors. They had little effect against the siege towers so Tumnis ordered them to aim for the carrions beasts. The accuracy of the men showed as two more towers were stopped dead in their tracks and the carrion beasts lay with a half dozen bolts protruding from their dead flesh.
The smile soon left his face, however, when he saw a huge boulder hurling towards him. It looked as if time had frozen because it came so slowly. He ducked and the boulder just missed his head; he could feel the air from it as it flew over him and down into the city, destroying one of the lower class apartment blocks. He sighed with relief that it had missed him but as soon as he turned around he saw more of the great boulders flying towards the city, and it became obvious that the enemy had their catapults in range.
Great rocks hit against the mighty walls of the city. Most just dissolved like the sea when it hits the cliffs, but some found their way over the wall, smashing buildings and clusters of men. Some even skimmed the top of the wall killing dozens of defenders who stood there waiting for the siege towers.
Count Darkool watched from his chariot as the battle unfolded. He could see the two sides trading missiles and every siege tower that was destroyed made him that much more angry.
He turned to Shalon. ‘Those walls need to be breached, land the siege towers this instant!’ He said with an impatient look on his face.
‘It will be done my lord,’ Shalon replied.
With his powers he spoke to the carrion beasts pulling the towers, telling them to hasten.
Noticeably they started to move faster and the large bone structures moved more quickly towards the walls. On board each of them were scores of skeleton warriors hungry to join battle.
The skeletons now came within range of the archers. Tumnis held up his sword again. ‘Archers ready!’ He shouted. ‘Fire!’ And with that thousands of archers let loose a mass of arrows upon the enemy, so numerous they looked like a long dark cloud descending onto the skeletons. Most arrows rattled harmlessly against the rib cages of the skeleton warriors or lodged in their armour harmlessly. Some arrows though, found their marks and hit the skeletons directly in the skull, knocking it off and reducing the bones to a pile of bone dust. The volleys continued relentlessly.
; Tumnis noticed that the siege towers would be on them any minute and that would be when the real battle started, ‘Prepare for hand to hand combat, men! Do not give any ground to these undead bastards and hold the walls at all costs!’ he encouraged his men.
The siege towers came within a few metres, and Tumnis could make out the features of individual skeletons surrounding each of the towers as they stopped just before the great walls. Some still had hair on their heads from their previous existence, some wore no armour at all and were naked skeletons, just as eager as the rest. Most wore corroded armour that had stayed with them when they died.
The captain moved away from the top of the gatehouse and made his way to the ramparts where the thick of the action would be. He stood among his men and watched as a huge tower honed in on them. Its ramp was still up, hiding anything which was inside. His adrenaline ran wild as he waited for the fight. The siege tower was now close enough to release its ramp and a moment of silence filled the air. All along the walls of the city the siege towers came to a halt.
Tumnis stood with the rest of the men, feeling nervous with anticipation of the coming fight. Suddenly there was a loud creak and the ramp slowly lowered, and then abruptly dropped onto the wall, smashing the crenellations of the city’s stone walls. All of a sudden scores of armoured skeletons poured out of the tower and onto the battlements.
They crashed into the shields of the defenders and some even landed directly on top of them. All along the line the same thing was happening as thousands of skeletons poured onto the defenders. Sounds of metal on metal, metal on flesh and metal on bone filled the air. The skeletons fought with a ferocity which took the defenders by surprise. For every one that went down another took its place. It quickly became apparent that knocking their heads off was the way to ultimately destroy them.
