Shades of the Past: The Morcyth Saga Book Six

by Brian S. Pratt

  They steadily pick up the pace until the entire company is galloping toward Korazan in the hopes of arriving shortly after the ones riding to warn them. A half hour into the ride, they meet up with the two men who had gone to gather information the day before. Illan calls a brief halt while they report.

  “All they have is a skeletal garrison,” one man reports. “Word is the rest left several days ago and headed east.”

  Illan nods in understanding as the second rider adds, “A couple hundred men at arms and maybe fifty crossbowmen is all we’ll have to deal with.”

  “Any mages?” James asks.

  Shaking his head, the first rider says, “Not that we heard.”

  “There was one there that left with the others,” the second rider explains. “But word on the street is that there isn’t one now.”

  James glances to Illan and says, “That’s good news.”

  “Appears your plan worked,” comments Jiron. “Most likely the mage they’re talking about lies dead on the road behind us.”

  “Let’s hope so,” agrees James.

  “Any word about reinforcements heading to Korazan?” asks Illan.

  “No,” the second rider replies.

  “Very good,” says Illan to the two spies. “Grab a quick bite to eat, we’re leaving shortly.” They both give him a salute and then move back toward where the pack animals are held to get some food.

  Turning back to James, Illan says, “By the time we get there, they will have little time to do more than man the walls and shut the gates.”

  “I’m sure they will send out riders requesting reinforcements from the nearby garrisons,” Ceadric adds. “Not that they will get there in time.”

  “Probably,” agrees Illan. “It’s what I would do.”

  James takes out his mirror again and they gather round as he brings Korazan into focus. “The riders have arrived,” he says when they find the gates closed, soldiers lining the wall facing their approach and all signs of civilians outside the walls gone.

  “So it would seem,” breathes Illan. They take a few moments to size up the enemy’s forces as well as the slaver compound just within the eastern wall. When they are through, James puts the mirror away and they get going once again. In less than an hour the walls of Korazan come into view.

  When they reach about a hundred yards from the walls, James brings them to a stop. Illan arranges their forces for the coming assault while James moves back to the pack horses and finds the bag with the crystals he needs for the attack. Removing the bag, he attaches it to his belt and returns to the front line. Dismounting, he hands the reins to Devin who stands there with spear in hand, the same spear James had given him during his first time in Trendle.

  “You ready?” he asks Illan as he rejoins him at the front.

  Illan nods and replies, “All set.” He motions for one of the Raiders standing behind him to come forward. To James he says, “Jared can speak the Empire’s tongue well.”

  “Alright then,” he replies with a nod to Jared, “let’s go.” With that he and Jared step forward and begin making their way to the walls, if he figured it correctly, the slaver compound should be on the other side. As they draw closer to the walls, a shimmering field springs up around the pair. “Whatever you do, stay close,” says James.

  “I will,” Jared assures him.

  Several bolts are loosed at them before a command is hollered by someone on the wall. The bolts arc toward them and are deflected by the barrier. James hears Jared sigh with relief when the bolts fail to find their mark. “Nothing can get through to us in here,” he says.

  “Yeah,” replies Jared, “I saw that during the battle at Lythylla. It’s just unnerving seeing them flying toward you.”

  James brings them to a halt when they are within a dozen feet of the wall. Still no tingling indicating a mage is working magic, perhaps what the spies had said was in fact true, no mage is within the walls.

  Jeers reach them from those manning the walls. The men up there see the numbers arrayed against them and know that such a force will stand little chance in breaching their defenses. James glances up at them just as a wad of spittle flies toward them and hits the barrier. “What are they saying?” he asks Jared.

  “That we should go away and not to waste our lives,” he says, though from the redness of his face James doubts if they’re using those exact words.

  “Tell them this,” James says as he gazes up toward the battlements. “They are to release all the slaves in the city. Send them to us and we will leave them be.”

  Jared’s bass voice booms forth with the message to those within the city. The men atop the battlements quiet down as the words roll forth. When he’s done, there’s a quiet hush for a moment before the jeering continues.

  A command is given and a great vat of oil empties its contents over the side and pours over the barrier, behind it falls a flaming brand. James notices Jared about to bolt when he sees the torch falling to ignite the oil. Laying a hand on his arm, he says, “We’ll be alright.”

  Whoosh!

  The oil bursts into flame and the outer edge of the barrier becomes a roaring inferno. Inside, the temperature rises abruptly and sweat begins rolling down their faces. The oil is quickly consumed and they stand there unscathed until the fire dies down. Atop the wall, the men are no longer jeering. They stare down in awe at the fact they are still alive and untouched.

  “Holler back up to them, ‘So be it’,” he instructs Jared. Once he has done so, James tells him to walk with him. Reaching into the pouch hanging at his hip, he pulls out one of the four glowing crystals within. He wishes he would have brought more of these but he didn’t think about it when back at The Ranch. Making more is easy, but you need crystals and somewhere to drain power from. He isn’t about to drain the men who came with him, he has a hard enough time grappling with the morality of doing it to his enemies let alone friends.

  Tossing the crystal to the base of the wall he says, “Four.” Walking along the base, he tosses down the other three crystals at twenty feet intervals. “Three.” “Two.” “One.” After the last crystal rests by the stone wall, he turns to return back to their lines.

  Bolts rain down upon them now as well as stones roughly the size of a man’s head, each are easily deflected by the barrier. Breaking into a run, he and Jared race back to their lines. When they leave the range of the bolts, James cancels the barrier allowing them to make even better speed.

  Ke-Pow!

  The magic of the four crystals is released beneath a single section of the wall, blasting it up and out.

  “Dear lord!” Ceadric breathes as he watches a section of the wall easily twenty feet wide launch itself in the air.

  “Watch for falling debris!” Illan shouts and the word is passed throughout the waiting men. Most of the larger chunks fall well short, some of the smaller pieces manage to reach them and men dance aside to avoid being hit. A few either weren’t fast enough or not observant and are struck by the falling debris.

  The concussion of the blast knock James and Jared to their knees as it rolls past them. By the time it reaches where the others wait, it isn’t nearly as forceful.

  “Hedry!” Illan shouts.

  “Sir!” comes the reply as Hedry rides forward.

  “Take your archers and kill anything that moves,” he orders.

  “Yes, sir,” he replies. With a command to his men, they race forward, bows in hand.

  Jared is the first to regain his feet and offers a hand to James. Taking it, they both resume their run back to the lines.

  “Ceadric,” Illan shouts. “Take your men and begin securing the interior. After that blast there shouldn’t be much left, most of their men were concentrated up on the battlements.”

  “Yes, sir,” he says. Turning to his men, Ceadric cries, “For Madoc and Black Hawk!” With a deafening roar, the Raiders charge forward.

  Hedry’s force has already come within range of the walls and has begun picki
ng off anything that moves. A few bolts rain down from above but the crossbowmen up there are soon taken out. By the time Ceadric and his riders arrive, bolts are no longer falling. Hedry gives him a grin and a salute as he races past.

  The dust is beginning to settle and the hole that had been blasted in the wall materializes before them. Damn! Ceadric thinks as he sees the depth and width of the crater the blast created. He leads his men toward it. If James had the spot right, they should be at the slave compound.

  Slowing their speed, Ceadric leads his men through the opening, staying as far to the side as possible to avoid the crater’s center. As they pass through the wall, the slaver compound materializes before them on the other side. Off to one side several slavers are lined up with crossbows and let loose a volley.

  Three of Ceadric’s men are hit and go down. “Charge!” he yells as he and the others race for their attackers. With swords drawn and war cries on their lips, they are a fearful sight.

  Losing their courage, the slavers throw down their crossbows and flee across the compound to the gate leading into the city. Cheers can be heard from the slave pens as the slaves held within revel in their captors’ plight.

  “Secure the compound,” he shouts to one of his lieutenants. When Hedry and his archers move within the walls, he has them post themselves on the inner wall surrounding the compound. While normally used to keep an eye on the slaves, the walkway will afford them a view of the surrounding city.

  The whoosh of a passing crossbow bolt flies within inches of Ceadric’s face. Scanning the area, he finds the window from which the bolt was fired and directs a squad of his men to secure it. Dismounting, the score of men break in through the door to the building and the sound of fighting can be heard coming from within.

  “Walls are secure,” Hedry calls from his position upon the wall of the slaver compound.

  “And the city?” Ceadric hollers back.

  Hedry glances over the wall then turns back. “People are fleeing for their lives but no sign of any soldiers.”

  “Keep me posted,” he shouts back.

  “What about the city?” one his men asks him.

  “We were told to secure the compound,” he replies. “And that’s all.”

  “Shame,” comments the man.

  Just then James and Illan make their way through the hole in the wall. Jiron and the others remain on the other side to patrol the area for incoming hostile forces. Ceadric rides over to them and salutes Illan. “Area is secure.”

  “Good,” replies Illan. “Release the slaves and gather them in the compound.”

  “Yes, sir,” he replies.

  James glances around at the wreckage the destruction of the wall wrought. One of the pens had been built up against it and now a good portion of it is missing. He feels saddened by the fate of the slaves who had been held within it. All around the compound the bodies of slavers and soldiers lie strewn about. Some were killed when the wall blew, but many show signs of being cut down by Ceadric’s men.

  Voices ring out from the walls as the men who are fluent in the Empire’s tongue begin shouting for all slaves who wish for their freedom to make their way to the slaver’s compound. Whether any will heed the call is the question.

  “We can’t stay here too long,” Illan says to James. “Another couple hours and the army from Al-Zynn will be here.”

  “Don’t worry,” James assures him, “we won’t be tarrying here very long.”

  From the surrounding buildings, slaves begin filing into the compound’s courtyard. A rider comes to a stop before Illan and says, “We found their weapons cache.”

  “And?” Illan questions.

  “Must be a couple hundred crossbows there and several thousand bolts,” he replies. “Not to mention swords and other useful items.”

  “Very good,” Illan says nodding. “Begin taking the equipment out and set up an area where it can be distributed to the slaves. Start with the crossbows and bolts.”

  “Yes, sir,” the rider says. With a quick salute, he turns his horse and races back across the courtyard.

  The city around the compound is in a state of panic. Cries and screams of people reach them as they race away from the scene of the attack. By the time the slaves have been gathered together in the courtyard of the compound, the city has grown silent as it waits to see what they will do.

  Atop the walkway running the length of the wall, the men continue to shout the word for slaves who wish their freedom to come. Near the compound gates leading into the city, a squad of Ceadric’s men as well as half a dozen archers, stand guard. A few slaves who heard the announcement arrive and are promptly let through to join the others.

  James climbs onto one of the auction platforms with Jared by his side and faces the assembled slaves, or rather, the newly freed. Gazing across them he sees hundreds of faces gazing back; men, women, and all manner of children. He gathers his thoughts as they look up to him expectantly.

  Off to one side, a pile of crossbows, swords and other such equipment is being brought forth from the storehouse. The pack horses which had carried the crossbows gathered from the last caravan they sacked are brought in as well.

  “Time is short so I will get to the point,” he says loudly. Pausing just long enough for Jared to translate, he continues. “We mean to fight the Empire. They’ve taken our lands, our people, our children and it’s time they paid.”

  He pauses as his gaze travels the breadth of the assembled people. “We came to Korazan, not to take it, but to take you from them.” A murmur ripples through the crowd as Jared translates. “Slavery is hateful. I would see every slave free and every slaver put to the sword.” At that, a ragged cheer goes up.

  One of the men standing in the front hollers up at him, “That’s all well and good, but we aren’t fighters. Seems to me most of us will die if we go with you.”

  “True,” admits James. “I’m not about to lie to you. We are an army at war in enemy territory and it’s a long way back to Madoc.” Scanning the crowd, he sees many nodding their heads at that. “Should some of you wish to remain here in slavery, we won’t force you to come. Anyone who wishes for the chance to be a free citizen of Madoc rather than a slave, may. What I offer is the chance for freedom. You will have to fight for it and it’s quite likely we all may die before we return home.”

  Gesturing over to the gates leading from the compound into Korazan, he says, “If you wish not to accompany us, there’s the gate.” He pauses a moment. Not one person makes to move toward the gate. In the quiet of the courtyard, they hear the gate opening and many turn to see another dozen slaves enter at their chance for freedom.

  “Very well,” he says. “An army is even now on the way here and will be here within a couple hours.” Fear comes to the eyes of many, while others have the look of those ready for a little payback. “Do not fear,” he assures them. “They are not so great as to destroy us.”

  “You mean to fight them then?” a voice cries out.

  “Yes,” he replies.

  “Is that why you are setting us free?” one woman hollers. “To let us be the fodder for their swords?”

  Shaking his head, James replies, “No. But if you want your freedom, you’ll have to fight for it.” He gestures to the armament laid out on the ground and says, “Any who will fight for their freedom, see the men over there and you will be given the opportunity.”

  Men have already been designated to aid in the distribution of the weapons. As the freed slaves begin moving to either the crossbows or the other weapons, Raiders begin handing them out. Those who choose the crossbow are given a crossbow, a brace of bolts and are being grouped into squads of thirty. The ones able to wield the other weapons such as swords and knives are grouped together in one unit.

  Once the squads are formed, they are taken from the compound and through the wall where they begin learning the rudiments of wielding a crossbow. The fighters on the other hand, most already know how to wield their weapon of choi
ce. One young lad of about thirteen stands with a short sword in hand and despite the seriousness of his expression, appears like he’s never held one before.

  “Think they’ll do the job?” James asks Illan. They’ve moved off to the side away from the hustle and bustle going on in the arming process.

  “We’ll see,” he says. “Anyone’s first battle is always the toughest. We’ll know after that.”

  While the new additions are armed, escorted out through the hole in the wall and begin practicing, Illan sends forays into the city for some much needed supplies. In the immediate vicinity of the slaver’s compound are many business which yield sufficient quantities of food, equipment and other necessities that their force requires.

  Wagons are also commandeered to haul the additional supplies. Many are used strictly to carry barrels of water. Seeing as how their force will be reduced to moving at the speed of the slowest person, wagons will no longer be a hindrance.

  Citizens of Korazan are seen here and there as they keep an eye on the invaders, but other than watching from a window or peering around a corner, no hostile move is made. James wonders what became of all the slavers that had been at the compound. The number of dead slavers couldn’t account for half of the ones he saw here during his last visit. Gone to ground most likely until they leave.

  Once word comes that the pursuing army is now less than an hour away, they begin taking their force out of Korazan and getting it into position in the field. Those unable to join in the fight remain within the slaver’s courtyard. To protect them, Illan has a squad of crossbowmen and the unit of newly armed fighters remain with them in the event of an attack from the city.

  The ground around Korazan is fairly flat with some scrub brush and stunted trees doing their best to survive in the dry environment. With no high ground of which to speak of, Illan forms the ranks a couple hundred yards away from town. In the center stands Jiron with his fighters, Delia and her slingers are just behind. To either side sit Ceadric and his raiders. The newly formed squads of crossbowmen stand behind the Raiders. In their loincloths and slave garb, they are a stark contrast to the armored riders before them. If the situation wasn’t so grave, it would almost be funny. But there’s nothing amusing about the determination exhibited by each of the crossbowmen. Totaling over three hundred, what they lack in skill their numbers should readily make up for.