Shadow Lands Trilogy

by Simon Lister

  They hauled the trough in and lit the next one in the upturned shield, then taking one side of the shield each they used it to sling the burning wood over the edge. They repeated the action and after five attempts they found their range and the flaming missiles began to fall among the Adren. Their weight alone would have caused damage to those below but the effect of the flames resulted in further confusion among the Adren and each time one smashed into the line the archers above would fire arrows into their midst.

  Despite the number of Adren falling they kept advancing. In all the attacks on the Breton fortress, no one had ever seen the Adren retreat. They kept attacking the wall until all the ladders were cut from their anchors and cast aside, and the groups that attacked the cliff paths did so until each one of them had fallen. Cei was under no illusion about the several hundred strong force now struggling up the path below them. They would simply keep on coming.

  So he was amazed when he saw the lead group break away from the path. He realised why a second before Bran began shouting, ‘The boats! They’re going for the boats!’

  Wielding the sword he had taken from Leah, Bran started for the steps.

  ‘No! Come back!’ Merdynn shouted.

  Bran hesitated and Merdynn ran to the group above the path.

  ‘If they destroy the fishing boats we have no way of escaping!’ Bran shouted to him.

  ‘And if you and sixty others go down there to fight several hundred Adren then you’ll not need an escape route! You’ll die there!’ Merdynn shouted back.

  Bran looked up at him and then back to where the Adren were approaching the boats that had been hauled above the stone harbour and beyond the reach of the winter seas. The other Adren paused in their advance and the Adren and Bretons alike watched as heavy tree-cutting axes were taken to the fishing boats. Those around Cei stood silently in the rain and looked down as the Adren cut away the wooden stanchions holding the boats in place. They watched as one by one the boats were slid and tumbled over the short drop to the iced harbour and then hauled out onto the sea ice where they lay like beached whales, their deaths inevitable. They watched as others began methodically smashing holes in the hulls until all the Breton boats lay keeled over on the ice with gaping holes from stem to stern. Their only hope of escape from the enemy lay broken on the ice to be claimed by the sea when winter turned to spring.

  When the last boat was gutted the Adren roared and renewed their assault up the steps. The Bretons were grim-faced and heavy-hearted. Each knew what the destruction of the boats meant. Cei helped Bran back up over the edge of the headland and looked across to Merdynn who stood with his arms folded across his chest and his head bowed in the pouring rain.

  The Bretons restarted their assault on the enemy with a renewed fury. Cei sent the children on a mission to collect as many spent arrows as they could find from the battle at the wall while Bran ordered his runners to go to the wall and all the points around the headland where the Adren attacked and report back on how each defence was holding.

  The Adren gradually crept up the steep slope despite the devastation caused by the hail of rocks, flaming logs and arrows from above. The children returned to the frantic scene with another fifty spent Adren arrows that they had collected from the wall that was still under a concerted attack.

  Cei grabbed the arrows from them and sprinted the short distance to where Trevenna and Ethain were placed. He handed them some of the crude arrows and explained what he was going to do then repeated his explanation to Bran as he made his way back to the head of the steps. With the help of Bran and two other Bretons they manhandled the now empty cart over the lip of the headland. The last few steps had been cut away making the final approach steep and treacherous and they took care positioning the cart at the top of the remaining steps and then pushed it over onto its side.

  Cei and Bran stayed behind the upturned cart as the Adren drew nearer under the continuing hail of missiles. When they were only twenty yards away Cei sent his first arrow into the chest of the lead Adren. He tumbled to one side and lay still in the pouring rain on the verge of the drop. The next one took his place and Cei sent his second arrow to find its mark. Realising where the new attack was coming from the third Adren brought his shield down to protect himself from Cei’s longbow and was immediately hit by Trevenna’s arrow from above and to his left. The next Adren in line stepped over the bodies in front of him and suffered the same fate. They began to realise that they were caught in a crossfire and the foremost could not protect himself from the two points of fire.

  The certain death at the front of the line would have stopped most advances but the Adren came on, trying to increase their pace and close the distance to the upturned cart. They huddled closer together trying to share the protection of their shields but Trevenna and Ethain shifted their aim and sent their arrows into exposed legs and the inevitable gaps in the black shields.

  Still the Adren came on, always climbing and gaining another yard each time they stepped over a dead body in front of them. They picked up the shields of the dead and used them to form a defensive shell. They were almost at the cart. Bran cursed and sheathed his sword as he yelled at the Bretons behind him. Two of them picked up the long trough they had tried to roll the logs from and slid it over the edge of the higher ground and down to Bran.

  Together Cei and Bran lifted the trough onto the cart and clambered over to the other side. The Adren were only yards away advancing blindly behind their wall of shields and still being bombarded from those above them. With a roar of effort Bran swung the trough off the cart and holding it laterally across his chest he charged down into the Adren line.

  Bran was no taller than the Adren he charged into but his rage was fuelled by what they had done to his people and it leant him strength beyond his frame. He smashed into the unsuspecting line sending the first five Adren sprawling before he too fell. Cei was right behind him and jumped over his prone form windmilling his battle axe with both hands and battering the Adren before him over the edge of the stone stairs.

  Behind him the two archers on the headland finished off those still left alive by Bran’s charge and two other Bretons leapt down to the cart to upright it once more. Merdynn had sent the children for more oil and this was now slopped into the cart.

  Bran regained his feet and drew Leah’s sword rushing after the advancing Anglian Warlord. The shocked Adren were beginning to recover from the unexpected attack and one of them managed to catch Cei’s axe on his shield without being sent flying over the edge. Immediately Bran lunged forward, his sword passing by Cei’s side and into the Adren’s stomach. Cei kicked the dying Adren into those behind him and Bran edged by Cei to press on the attack and sustain the impetus of their downward charge.

  Behind them and further up the slope Merdynn was setting the brand to the oil in the cart. Once the fire took it was impervious to the rain and two Bretons began to push the cart down the steps. Ahead of them Bran was embroiled in a sword fight with the leading Adren. Bran’s attack had been furious but he had no shield and as the Adren parried his thrust on his own black shield he cut at Bran and caught him below the ribs. Bran stumbled and the Adren pressed his attack catching the Breton’s right shoulder with another blow. Bran dropped his sword and Cei scrambled past him to ram his axe head into the Adren’s face. Bran staggered to his left and clutching the deep cut to his side slowly toppled over the edge of the stone stairs. Cei reached out a despairing hand but Bran had gone.

  He saw the blazing cart being pushed down the steps, the two Bretons still guiding it by the two long poles used for harnessing it to a donkey or pony. He raced back up the steps towards it and found a ledge below the stairs to stand on as it passed by. The two Bretons increased their pace and the cart bumped and jolted over the steps as they sent it crashing into the Adren line.

  They sprinted back up the slope to join Cei. One of them stooped to pick up Bran’s fallen sword and they raced on up to the top of the headland where others hauled th
em over the edge and back into the Breton line. The Adren had been pushed halfway down the cliff and they had only just managed to lever the burning cart over the edge.

  The Bretons were dismayed to have seen Bran fall but it quickly turned to rage and once again the fist-sized stones and larger rocks were hurled down into the Adren file. Cei had collected his longbow from his original defensive position and he tucked the long handle of his axe into his belt as he crossed to Trevenna and Ethain.

  ‘How many arrows do you have left?’ he asked them.

  Ethain shook his head and Trevenna upturned her empty quiver by way of an answer. He looked back down at the Adren. He estimated that there was still over four hundred on the cliff path and below in the harbour.

  ‘Any ideas?’ he asked them.

  ‘Hide?’ Trevenna said with a smile.

  There were two things they could not do and if the other two were just realising it then Ethain had been aware of it for some weeks now. They had nowhere to hide and they could not run. Merdynn joined them.

  ‘Any ideas?’ Cei repeated the question to him.

  ‘Not really. I quite liked the last one though, burning cart, ensuing chaos and all.’

  ‘Can you summon any of your sorcery? Like you did before? Bring the cliff down on them?’ Cei asked.

  Merdynn pursed his lips and shook his head. Below them the Adren were gaining ground once more on the cliff path.

  ‘Trevenna, check on Bran’s messengers and see if any of the other attacks have been repulsed. If so then send word for those who can to come here – and to bring any arrows they can find. If it’s possible I want Aelfhelm and Cuthwin to come here – but only if they’ve beaten off their own assault. It looks like we’ll have to defend the steps one at a time.’

  Trevenna dashed off to organise the older children who were acting as the runners. Cei turned back to the other two and pointed to the last part of the slope where the steps had been cut away.

  ‘If we level out the ground there then four or five of us can block the top of the steps. When one of us tires another can take their place.’

  Ethain could see what he meant. The stone stairs were three to four-feet wide and there was only enough room for the Adren to advance in single file. Cei’s warriors could meet the head of the advancing file and try to hold them one at a time before they could spread out and use their greater numbers to overwhelm the defenders. The Bretons could continue their missile assault on the Adren line while the others held the top of the stone stair.

  Merdynn could think of no better plan and nodded in agreement. Ethain was shifting from foot to foot and could not stop his voice quavering as he said, ‘But there’s hundreds down there. We’ll each have to kill scores of them!’

  ‘You only have to kill the one in front of you,’ Cei replied, echoing Arthur’s words.

  Ethain wished he could swap places with Leah knowing that everyone would be better off if he could. He was appalled at the prospect of taking his turn at the top of the path and he doubted he could kill two or three of them let alone scores. Cei watched the advancing Adren but Merdynn was watching Ethain’s gaze jump from place to place as he sought an escape route.

  Trevenna returned with the news that the fighting continued on the wall and around the headland. The Adren had not broken through anywhere yet and the enemy were resorting to scaling the wall with unsecured ladders that the defenders were easily repelling. Aelfhelm and Cuthwin would join them as soon as they could safely leave the wall. The attacks elsewhere on the headland were being overcome and the runners said that others could join them here soon. The two young goat herders, Charljenka and Nialgrada, had managed to scavenge another ten arrows some of which were covered in blood. Trevenna realised that they must have been pulled from the bodies of the injured or dead and looked at the two silent children wondering what scars they would carry if they lived through this.

  Cei told her to keep the arrows for last-ditch cover and set about clearing a level patch of ground just below the lip of the headland. Some of the Bretons helped him while others kept up their barrage on the advancing Adren line. Cei ordered the Bretons back up as Trevenna jumped down to join him. Merdynn joined them and brought Ethain with him, clasping his upper arm firmly.

  The level ground they stood on was about fifteen-feet wide and eight-feet deep. The steep path from the harbour climbed up to them from the right and it turned into the level space from that direction. In front of the clearing was a precipitous slope and behind them a three-foot ledge up to where the Bretons stood in defiance.

  The Adren were almost upon them. Cei took his position to meet the first one and the other three readied themselves behind him. Merdynn stood by Ethain and he held Leah’s sword that he had taken from one of the Bretons.

  Cei hefted his war-axe, one hand at the end of the handle, the other halfway up the shaft. He had discarded his winter cloak and stood in the easing rain with his feet planted firmly apart and as the first Adren gained the last step the fight began again.

  He swung his axe and the Adren took it on his shield and staggered but avoided going the edge then cut back at Cei with his curved sword. Cei blocked it and reversed his swing to send the axe head into the side of the Adren’s face. The next one came straight at him but was stunned by a slingshot stone from above and Cei barged him over the edge. Brutal duel followed brutal duel and all the time the Adren line was bombarded by the Bretons. In their fury to reach the defenders some attempted to scramble around the almost vertical wall to one side of the steps and others tried to reach the small clearing from the ground that dropped sharply away to the other side of the stair but the only way up onto the headland was through the maniacal Anglian Warlord.

  When Cei was eventually forced back Trevenna and Merdynn immediately sprang forward to engage those spilling into the clearing and they tried to force the fighting back to the narrow stair. Ethain joined them but the momentum was with the Adren and more gained the clearing. The Bretons grouped themselves around the ledge above the fighting and hurled whatever they could at the attackers. Trevenna managed to haul herself up over the ledge and snatched up her longbow. She fired arrows into those attacking the other three and the Bretons quickly hoisted the defenders up over the edge in a mad scramble to reach the relative safety of the higher ground.

  They fought desperately to keep the Adren from gaining the headland but they were tiring and outnumbered and the Adren were relentless. As one of their number was cut down by a scythe another would grab at the handle or blade and attempt to pull the defender back down towards them. It seemed as if two were prepared to sacrifice themselves if it meant a third could get at one of the defenders. The Bretons could not stop the Adren from finally gaining the level ground of the headland.

  The attacks elsewhere on the Breton fortress had been repulsed and from other points on the headland and from the direction of the wall exhausted defenders rushed towards the Adren breakthrough. The defence turned into a scattered battle that raged across the top part of the headland but these villagers were no longer like those slaughtered at Eald or Branque. For months now they had fought the Adren on the cliff tops or on the wall and unlike the other villages to fall to the Adren the Bretons had the chance to defend themselves and fight back.

  There were no battle lines or defensive positions on the headland just an intermingled chaotic confusion of individual fights to the death. The only exceptions were the Anglians. Cei and the other three stayed close together fighting as a band as they cut their way across the battlefield. Aelfhelm and Cuthwin did the same and held together a group of ten defenders from the wall as they advanced into the battle attacking the scattered knots of Adren.

  The battle lasted an exhausting twenty minutes and the fate of the fortress hung in the balance for most of that time. Had the Adren gained the headland from the harbour with fewer casualties then the Bretons would have lost. Had only fifty Adren breached the wall then they would have taken the fortress there and then
but the Bretons had done just enough to hold this attack.

  As Cei squatted among the dead, exhausted and bloody, Merdynn tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to the West. Below the rain clouds that stretched out to the western horizon they could see the pale light of dawn. Cei stood up and stumbled forward a step. Merdynn held out a hand to steady him and Cei looked at the old man. His thinning white hair was bedraggled and hung lankly down to his shoulders, soaked by the persistent rain and the sweat of battle, but only his eyes betrayed any signs of the extreme weariness that Cei was feeling. The sword in his hand was bloody and he had fought skilfully.

  ‘Where did you learn to use a sword like that?’ Cei asked.

  ‘You pick things up,’ Merdynn answered, shrugging as he surveyed the battle scene and then added, ‘You’d better take charge of this mess now that Bran’s gone.’

  Cei bent down and wiped the gore from his axe on a dead Adren. People were standing where they had finished fighting, leaning on weapons or searching among the dead for family or friends. Cei called Ethain over and sent him to the wall to keep a lookout for the next attack. The villagers were gradually making their way across to him, looking for direction on what to do next. He recognised one of Bran’s companions approaching him, a grey haired middle-aged woman called Cardell. Her husband had not made it to the safety of the headland when the Adren initially attacked and she had seen her children die one by one during the defence of the fortress. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, she had proved increasingly capable of leading the villagers in the fighting against the Adren and Cei was glad that she had survived the latest attack.

  ‘What do we do next, Cei? They’ve destroyed the boats, haven’t they?’ she asked.