Shades of the Past: The Morcyth Saga Book Six

by Brian S. Pratt

  James runs through in his mind the various preparations he’s done in anticipation of the upcoming battle. He fervently hopes the items he brought from The Ranch will work the way he anticipates.

  After everyone’s finished eating, he meets with the slingers by the tent where his ‘special’ baggage is being stored during their stay. Usually there’s a guard standing out front to keep everyone away, it wouldn’t do to have someone meddle in an area that could kill everyone. Today Terrance has that duty.

  He steps inside and leaves with a large sack, the contents bulging the sides. Reaching in, he pulls out a small pouch and begins handing one to each. “Don’t open it now,” he tells them. Each pouch is bound closed with a red twine, all the various pouches and sacks containing his magically imbued crystals are color coated in this manner for easy identification.

  When each is holding their pouch, he says, “This will be your initial ammunition. Inside each pouch are three balls of hardened clay. Inside the clay is something, that once it leaves the confines of the sack it is currently within, becomes activated. Once it does, you haven’t much time before it goes off.”

  Caleb holds up his pouch and gives it an apprehensive look. The others’ expressions range from worry to excitement.

  “So remove one at a time, get it launched toward the enemy, then remove the next and so forth.” He returns within the tent. When he exits again, he hands a long bundle to Devin. “Hold onto this until we get out there. I’ll need you and Moyil to give me a hand setting it up. It’s imperative we get this in position before the enemy launches their attack.”

  “I thought we were to attack them?” Terrance asks.

  James glances at him and replies, “When they see us march out of the gates, I doubt if they’ll simply allow us all the time in the world to get ready.”

  “Yeah, Terry,” Jace says as he elbows him in the ribs.

  “Alright, sorry,” Terrance says.

  Holding up her pouch to James Delia asks, “Will these be enough to destroy the enemy?”

  “Let’s hope so,” he says. “I have a few other surprises as well, but I’ll be in charge of those.” He glances around the assembled group. “When you’ve exhausted the contents of your pouch, start using the slugs. I trust you’ve given each an extra supply?”

  Delia nods her head and says, “After this they’ll each be given three score slugs.”

  “Good.” He glances over to where Illan and the men-at-arms are gathering and sees that they have already mounted and are waiting for them. “Time to go. Get your slugs and let’s be on our way.”

  “Yes, sir,” Delia says and then takes her slingers over to another area where the slugs are stored and gives each their supply.

  As they leave, James turns back to the tent and goes inside. Many sacks are still contained within, both magical and non. He removes a crystal from one of the sacks and places it on the floor just inside the entrance. Stepping back out of the tent, he says, “Shield.” A shimmering barrier springs up around the tent, effectively preventing anyone from gaining access to the items contained within. It will last half a day and unless the battle rages longer than that, they should be back in time to post a guard before it fails.

  Satisfied, he turns toward where Devin is waiting with his horse. On Devin’s belt, he sees the pouch he gave him already secured there. Slung across his back is a pack, bulging at the bottom from the weight of the slugs Delia gave him.

  Taking the reins, James mounts and turns to gaze over the assembled force. Illan’s Black Hawk Raiders all but fill the courtyard. Jiron and his fighters are close, as are Delia and her slingers. Errin and Aleya have been assigned to Hedry and his archers for the duration of the battle.

  Miko rides forward and comes to a stop next to him.

  “Stay close,” James tells him. Miko nods in reply.

  Glancing at his companion since the beginning of this whole adventure, he can’t believe the changes he’s gone through. First, losing his youth to the Fire, and now his demeanor is changing yet again. The Star he carries appears to be mellowing him, he’s become more serious and confident. His playfulness resurfaces every now and then, but those occurrences are growing less frequent.

  “Ready?” he asks Miko.

  He gives James a grin and says, “Like you always say, ‘No, but I never will be for something like this.’”

  James returns his grin and then nods to Illan.

  “Move out!” Illan hollers and with James next to him, they leave the plaza. Just behind them comes the rider bearing the flag with the Black Hawk insignia. The sight of the flag gives the men a sense of pride and esprit de corps.

  Word must have spread through the night despite their best attempts at secrecy that something was planned for this morning. The streets are lined with people, both soldiers and civilians. Cheers follow them as they progress toward the western gate.

  They find the courtyard before the gate crammed with men, the walls are packed tightly with archers. Lord Pytherian stands in the only clear area among the sea of men. Next to him are five men, all five are dressed in matching brown jerkins and pants, each holding a wooden staff. Upon the breast of each is a symbol of a plant encircled by a ring of interwoven leaves superimposed over a gnarled staff.

  “Priests of Asran,” Illan says.

  James nods his head and remembers the slain priests they came across in Asran’s temple during their foray into Saragon. “Wonder what they are doing here?”

  “We’ll soon see,” he says.

  They bring their force to a stop before Lord Pytherian who gestures to the priest next to him. “Black Hawk, James, I’d like you to meet Brother Willim.”

  The priest steps forward, nods and says, “Glad to make your acquaintance.”

  “He and his brothers have come to join the fight against the Empire,” Lord Pytherian explains.

  “Many of our brethren have died at the hands of the Empire,” Brother Willim states. “Asran has sent us to aid in whatever way we may.” He indicates his brothers and adds, “We are the Hand of Asran.”

  Illan clears his throat and then says, “I thought the priests of Asran were nonviolent.”

  “For the most part that is true,” replies Brother Willim. “I and the others you see here are part of an order that fights when necessary to preserve Asran’s name. Sometimes a weed must be pulled or a diseased branch removed.”

  James grins at the symbology he uses in describing the Empire. Druids, that’s what they are. “We are more than happy to have those of Asran beside us this day,” he says. “A great battle lies before us, the first of many before we see the lands of Madoc free again.”

  The first rays of the morning sun crest the horizon and strike the upper battlements. He dismounts and motions for the other leaders to gather round. Taking out his mirror, he says, “Let’s see the layout of their camp before we begin.”

  They gather round, including Brother Willim, as the image shifts and a bird’s eye view of the enemy’s camp appears. Crossbowmen line the palisade and the area behind is filled with men. Currently it doesn’t look as if they’re preparing for battle, they must think none is forthcoming after the night’s events.

  “That’s a lot of men,” Jiron says from over his shoulder.

  “Yes,” agrees Brother Willim.

  Once they have a good idea of the composition of their troops, he scrolls the view further away from the camp. As he moves it along the road leading south, they see another force of foot soldiers marching to reinforce the men outside their walls.

  “How far away do you think they are?” James asks.

  Lord Pytherian says, “Couple hours at the most. If they ran maybe an hour.”

  After another brief scan in the other directions, they find that the men coming from the south are the only other force on the way. Putting away the mirror, James glances around at the others and says, “We better get this over with before they arrive.”

  Mounting back upon his hors
e, he glances around at the sea of faces surrounding him. Hard to believe a year ago all I was worried about was whether or not I studied hard enough to pass the next test. Now I’m leading an army to battle. Dave would have loved this.

  To Brother Willim he says, “You and your brothers stay near me.”

  Brother Willim nods and falls in behind. Miko comes to ride next to him as does Illan.

  “Let’s go,” he says and they move to the gates. A clattering of metal announces the locking mechanism has been released and the gates begin to swing open. Off to the side are four small catapults which a crew of Madoc soldiers will bring forth and line up behind them on the far side of the river. During the meeting last night, Lord Pytherian suggested using them to batter down their palisade. Said it would save lives if James’ forces could gain the other side quickly.

  “We need to quickly get the catapults within range of the palisade and be ready should they launch an assault,” he says as he rides through the gates. Moving fast, he breaks his horse into a trot and is soon crossing over the bridge to the far side of the river. The Hand of Asran runs with ease and keeps pace with him.

  They make it just past the bridge before the enemy takes notice of them. A flurry of activity is seen on top of the palisade as enemy crossbowmen move into position. The palisade gate swings shut.

  “I don’t think they’re planning on coming forth,” Illan says as they reach the point where the catapult’s volley will strike the palisade.

  James glances to the enemy fortification, shut tight and daunting. “Let’s get set up first,” he tells him as he dismounts. “Then we’ll see what we can do to draw them out.”

  Illan starts organizing their troops while James takes Devin and Moyil, along with the package Devin’s carrying, to an area a dozen yards further toward the palisade. Glancing at the crossbowmen on the walls he hopes they stay put for a few minutes until all is in readiness.

  He takes the package and unrolls it on the ground. Within are three six foot staves, each are sharpened on one end. Attached by a leather thong to the other end is a crystal, glowing a deep crimson. One of the staves has a red chord tied to it just beneath the crystal.

  Handing Devin and Moyil each a staff, he takes the one with the red chord and moves to center himself before his men. Raising it high, he plunges it into the ground. When he has it secured and not likely to fall over, he says to the other two, “Do the same with yours, ten yards in either direction.

  They nod their heads as Devin moves to the right and Moyil moves to the left. Once they reach approximately the specified distance, they turn back and glance to James. When they receive his nod, they drive their staves into the ground. After they’re securely within the ground, he and the boys return to where the others are waiting. Some look at him questioningly about the staves but he gives no explanation.

  By this time the catapults are in position, a wagon of large stones stands ready by each. He has Jiron and the fighters from The Ranch station themselves just behind the line of staves. Delia and her slingers are placed just behind them. Brother Willim with his brethren move to stand near James. The Black Hawk banner bearer moves to the fore and stands just past the line of staves. At that a cheer erupts from the Black Hawk Raiders who are arrayed to either side at the rear.

  James glances back to the walls of Lythylla. The gate stands open and he knows Lord Pytherian has riders and fighters ready to come to their aid should he require it.

  “Cowards!” he hears Stig exclaim when the enemy remains behind their palisade.

  “It’s not cowardice to remain behind a fortification,” Illan says loudly. “Why should they meet us in battle when they can defend from a point of strength? It’s obvious we’re going to attack.”

  All of the strategies James worked on had one element in common, the enemy was to attack. He’s not sure if what he plans will be as effective going up against a foe that is entrenched behind a protective wall.

  An idea comes to him and he has Devin ride back into Lythylla. When Illan raises an eyebrow in question he just grins and shrugs. Shortly after he enters the gates, Devin reappears again followed by several wagons full of barrels.

  The wagons roll forward and come to a stop by the catapults. “Oil and pitch,” James finally says to Illan.

  “Going to burn the palisade down?” he asks.

  “Doubt if it will do that,” he says. “But it will annoy them and give us a smoke screen.” He moves to the officer in charge of the catapults and asks, “Can you hit the wall with the barrels?”

  The officer turns and gauges the distance to the palisade and replies, “Might. Not sure how they’ll fly once released.”

  “If you can at least get close it will be worthwhile,” he tells him.

  “Close for sure,” he says and then has his men begin loading one barrel at a time into each catapult’s cup.

  “Fire when you’re ready,” James tells him.

  Once all the catapults have a barrel in their cup, the officer yells, “Loose!”

  The lever on each is pulled and the arm launches the barrels toward the palisade. Four fall short while one containing tar manages to hit the wall near the gate. A cheer goes up from the men as the arms of the catapults are once again pulled back in place. Another barrel is placed within the cup and let loose.

  James watches the second volley fly overhead when all of a sudden he feels the familiar tingling of magic. Atop the palisade, he spies the warrior priest with arms upraised. When the tingling spikes, a fireball materializes as it flies toward the catapults. About to cast a counter spell, he feels another tingle, this one closer.

  Brother Willim throws a small, green object into the air and says a few unintelligible words. The object begins to grow as it races toward the oncoming fireball. It grows at an astounding rate and when it encounters the fireball, engulfs it and drags it to the ground.

  “Nice,” he hears Jiron say from his position in the front of the group.

  The catapults continue their barrage of pitch and oil. James moves to Hedry and asks, “Can one of your archers send a flaming arrow out there?”

  “Not a problem,” he replies. Turning to his men, he hollers, “Erik, Jorn, send them a present if you would.”

  Having overheard what James had asked Hedry, they remove a piece of cloth. Tearing off four strips, they tie them tightly just behind the arrowheads of four arrows. With a third person bearing a lit torch, they move forward past the line of staves to get within arrow range.

  Another fireball flies from the palisade wall, this time aimed at the archers moving forward, and again Brother Willim brings it down.

  The archers finally reach the appropriate distance just as another volley of barrels sails over their heads. By this time the area before the palisade is covered in pitch and oil, some of the barrels having managed to strike the walls of the palisade. The torch bearer lights their arrows and they take aim.

  Loosing their arrows, two flaming lines of fire streak through the air on a trajectory to land within the flammable material. Just before they close the distance an unnatural gust of wind knocks them awry and they land a dozen yards short. A tingling sensation ran through him just before the wind materialized, indicating the warrior priest was responsible.

  “Damn!” curses James. He watches as they aim and loose the last of their modified arrows. As before, when they’re halfway to their target, another gust of wind skews their trajectory and they fall short. The two men and the torch bearer turn about and head back quickly to their lines. A cheer rises from the men manning the palisade.

  As another volley of barrels flies overhead, the officer in charge of the catapults says to him, “That’s the last of them.”

  “Start with the rocks then,” he tells him.

  Nodding, the officer begins having his men fill the catapults with large boulders.

  James moves back to where Illan, Ceadric and Jiron are conferring. Jiron looks to him at his approach and asks, “Now what? Lo
oks like we’re stymied.”

  “No, we’re not,” he replies. He moves to intercept the torchbearer as he rejoins the others. Before he has a chance to extinguish the torch, James takes it from him. Turning toward the enemy, his shimmering shield springs into being and he begins moving forward.

  Brother Willim and his fellows fall into line behind him to follow. He glances back and sees them there. “Stay here with the others,” he tells them.

  “No, we go with you,” Brother Willim replies.

  Shrugging his shoulders, James continues marching toward the oil and pitch spread across the base of the palisade. A quick look to the palisade shows the warrior priest is no longer there. Where did he go?

  As James reaches the range of the crossbowmen lining the walls, a volley of bolts flies forward only to be deflected by his shield. Brother Willim and the others are using their staves to knock the bolts from the air before they can reach them. Small bursts of tingling sensations tell James it’s not skill alone which is allowing the bolts to be deflected by the staves.

  He comes to a stop ten feet from the edge of the oil and pitch. With all his might, he throws the torch forward. As the torch leaves his hand, the gates of the palisade open to reveal the warrior priest.

  The torch hits the oil and pitch, igniting a raging inferno. The heat from the flames forces him to back away quickly. The Hand of Asran backs away as well. Suddenly from beside him, he hears Brother Willim gasp.

  Returning his gaze to the inferno, he sees four creatures emerging from the flames. Half the size of a horse and looking like a large wolf, these creatures turn their red eyes on James and the priests of Asran. One raises its head and howls then all four spring forward.

  Dreading another encounter with these creatures, James backs away quickly. Over the winter, he’s worked on various methods to deal with them should he ever encounter them again. He reaches into a small pouch on his belt and removes one of two glowing crystals contained within. Throwing it into the path of the charging creatures, he turns and races away.