Draconis' Bane

by David Temrick

  Defenders got careless and stood too close to the wall and finally Tristan understood the sorcerer’s tactics. With the non-stop random balls of fire colliding with the protection afforded the walls, large columns of flame and ash would sweep up the slanted wall and either set defenders on fire, ash would render them temporarily blind, or on the odd occasion, burn their bows and arrows beyond use.

  Meanwhile, Chieftain Frederick was on the wall shouting for half of his forces to drop their bows and prepare pole arms for the scaling ladders. No sooner had the walls of flame stopped erupting from below than the first orc showed his ugly face over the parapet near Tristan. The Prince dropped his bow, picked up his spear and shield and joined the quickly forming wall of shields at his side. Each man carried his shield on his left arm, raising it high enough to protect most of his body as well as the man beside him. A score of orcs and men poured over the battlements and turned to face the Suttenites as they readied their weapons for the assault.

  Tristan shouted for those around him to ready themselves in formation for repulsing the attackers. Off to his left he could see a tower lumbering forward, packed to the point of rupture with attackers. He yelled for the shield-wall to move backwards so they wouldn’t be trapped between two forces. Attackers, already on the battlements, were pushed forward by the press of more of their forces coming over the parapets. They were the first to fall to the organized strike as Tristan shouted.

  “THRUST!” The Prince shouted.

  As one the small unit of perhaps twenty defenders lowered their shields and lashed out with their spears, killing a similar number of attackers.

  “Push!” Tristan shouted over the din.

  The wall of shields shoved back the attackers who were attempting to crawl over their dead comrades. More and more of the enemy crested the wall until eventually they pushed the defenders back with sheer numbers.

  “Abandon the walls!” Chieftain Fred yelled from farther along the battlements.

  The men around Tristan began to stir, some of them eying the immediate area for a place to leap down onto a roof of a cart.

  “HOLD DAMN YOU!” Tristan yelled, doing his best impression of Sergeant Frose.

  The wall tightened around him again, every man listening closely for his next command.

  “Find us a nice wide staircase and we’ll back down it together.” He ordered; all hesitation and self doubt disappearing as an odd calmness descended upon him.

  The shield-wall backed up slowly, making their way to the nearest clear set of steps leading down into a nice wide courtyard at the base. The men grunted in time as they stepped one foot back at a time. The attackers threw themselves at their shields. Every few paces Tristan would call for another thrust, sending another twenty or so of the enemy host crashing off the walls to their death.

  His unit slowly made their way to the courtyard as six others joined them, turning their small defense into a clear threat. Arrows sped from the walls as attackers unlimbered their bows and opened fire on the defenders. Together the wall of shields became a semi-sphere of protection against the Terum forces.

  “Who has a bow and some arrows?” Tristan shouted.

  He was greeted by a dozen or more men sideling along behind him, William appeared at his shoulder.

  “What? You left yours behind?” He asked with mock irritation.

  “I ran out of arrows anyway.” Tristan joked.

  “On three; lower shields, archers pick your targets and fire quickly, and then raise the shields back up again.” He ordered. “Let’s see if we can take some of these motherless whores with us, shall we?”

  The men laughed as Tristan counted; “One, two…three!”

  As one the archers stood, shields were lowered just enough to allow them to shoot. A dozen arrows sped through the air killing attackers as they struck.

  “Well done.” Tristan congratulated.

  The attackers swarmed down from the walls, running madly towards their position.

  “Thrust!” Tristan commanded.

  Once again as one they lowered shields; drove spears forward, and then raised them again. Still more came.

  “Push!” He shouted as their unit shoved back attackers.

  “Archers! On three again.” He yelled. “One, two…three!”

  Again the dozen archers fired their deadly missiles at Terum soldiers. Over and over their unit pushed, speared and shot attackers until fear caused three of the men to break formation and run.

  “Forget them, fill in ranks!” Tristan commanded with a shout.

  The men obeyed, tightening the gaps in the shield wall. The cousins watched as the three deserters ran for it and were quickly picked off by enemy archers from the walls.

  “We can’t last like this much longer.” William observed.

  “I know.” Tristan replied darkly.

  ~

  Kevin ran down the keep steps yelling; “Form up! We ride!”

  He’d just spent the last thirty minutes questioning a runner from Heatherington about the ongoing siege. The man had been slipped over the northern wall during the night and arrived two days later in Irudin; travel weary, bruised and starving. After he’d been tended to by the matron, eaten his fill and drained his glass of water he’d outlined the dire situation unfolding in Sutten.

  Gerald came running out next, followed closely by his wife.

  “If you take the Golshy Pass you can hit them from the rear.” He instructed handing him a bundle of rations.

  Kevin nodded in agreement, turning his gaze on Hanna.

  “Tell Euri what’s happening, she’ll be upset, but I’d rather she knew than be hurt at not being included.” He instructed.

  The Duke had received word from his brother-in-law, William, weeks ago about the mounting Terum presence along their border. Rather than leave anything to chance, Kevin had assembled four thousand soldiers from his own compliment and ridden for Irudin at once. Alison, not wishing to be left behind again and also understandably worried about her brother William, had arrived by coach two days ago.

  The pair of them had sought out Eurydice at Hanna’s request, only to find that his baby sister wasn’t the baby he remembered. In the past year she’d grown considerably in maturity as well as bearing. The three of them had spoken at length about her visions, Kevin being much more alarmed than Alison. His wife took a more pragmatic approach to this whole magic business, but Kevin had seen enough in his life not to discount Euri’s experiences.

  He rushed through town on horseback and though the southern gate where his men had been camped for the last week. Everyone was ready as he rode past them, including the Irudin reserves which helped to swell his army to seven thousand warriors. He’d also found a useful unit of engineers whom he’d sent ahead three days ago.

  Kevin anticipated meeting up with them just as they approached the enemy camp. As he motioned for the army to march, secretly hoped he wouldn’t be too late.

  ~

  Eurydice snuck out of the broom cupboard, her face pail and eyes red as she wiped away the tears that had rolled down her face. The cupboard had been a useful discovery. Especially when the others would leave her out of what was going on. She could hide in there and listen as they discussed matters over their meals. It irritated the young lady that she had to resort to subterfuge to keep involved. After all of Tristan’s attacks she wasn’t about to be kept out of this adult business.

  She walked purposefully down the hall and up the nearest flight of stairs to Kevin and Alison’s room. Euri confidently knocked on the door, she faintly heard Alison call her in. She looked up from her packing, slowing noticeably, and said; “Euri!”

  Eurydice’s eyes narrowed; “I’m coming along.” She pronounced.

  Alison tried to object, but couldn’t find a good reason to deny the young girl. Finally her shoulders sagged and she nodded.

  ~

  “LOOSE!” Chieftain Fred yelled as archers fired over the shields around them.

  Less
than five-hundred defenders remained and every last one of them had filtered over to the large courtyard Tristan and his unit held. Now a dome of shields surrounded the remaining defenders as arrows, spears and crossbow bolts rained down from the occupied walls. As one the shields shifted, allowing the fifty archers to stand and fire again. More often than not they couldn’t take proper aim because of the consistency of the attackers’ strikes.

  “How many fell that time Tristan?” Fred called.

  “Less than a dozen Uncle!” Tristan shouted back.

  Fred cursed as another brave band of attackers rushed forward.

  “THRUST!” Fred shouted.

  Twenty of the closest defenders slid their shields down and skewed the attackers and Tristan’s spear was yanked out of his hand. He cursed, looking through the gap between his shield and his neighbors to see an orc running away from the fight, the spear jutting out of his stomach.

  “Spear!” He called. William grabbed one of the few spares remaining and thrust it into Tristan’s outstretched hand.

  “Try to hold onto this one, won’t you?” He joked.

  Tristan was forced to laugh, despite the grim situation, his cousin still had a wit he found infectious. During stressful times such as these memories came to the young Prince unbidden of his childhood. This time it was a moment when William had broken the tension with a jest he couldn’t quite recall. He shook his head of those thoughts, trying to keep his focus here and now. Distracted men, as his father used to tell him, are dead men. A shout followed by a loud slam echoed through the courtyard from the western gate. His Uncle placed his hand on Tristan’s shoulder.

  “That was an excellent idea.” He said nodding his head towards the gate.

  Shortly after the first few men filtered over to his unit, he and his cousin had led a five man team over to the gate. They sliced the counter balance weights from their ropes, set fire to the crank that allowed the gate to be lowered and finally they put the large timber into its housing and ordered the bowmen to lose their arrows above it.

  The gate now shuddered as the giants outside tried to break it down. Inside the fortress several troll engineers tried to repair the damage Tristan’s team had inflicted. Every now and then their guards would lower their shields, and at those times…

  “LOOSE!” Fred shouted.

  The dome of shields shifted as the fifty archers fired towards the gate killing another score of engineers and their warrior escorts. The thudding from the giants continued on though. As of yet, only the men and orcs could swarm over the wall to take the fight to the Suttenites. A pack of wild looking orcs, easily fifty strong decided they were done with patience as they rushed the defenders position.

  Tristan could smell their rancid breath as they closed in on the defenders, slowly so as not to be impaled, they began looking for weaknesses in the defense. They began prodding the defenders shields with their own spears. Their leader shouted and the orcs began their war cry. It was an ear splitting racket which reminded Tristan of the death cry of a horse.

  They backed away and then ran forward. Five of them dropped suddenly at their feet, dead. Tristan looked at William seeing his confusion echoed in his cousins’ features. Another five dropped, one of them staggered forward, an arrow protruding from its neck. “That’s my girl!” Fred proclaimed proudly.

  The young Prince turned his gaze up to find that a group of eight women had occupied one of the towers and were raining arrows down on the attackers from above. Numerous orcs turned their bows on them, firing wildly as the women dropped below the parapet. Fred’s daughter Gail, wife to his cousin William rose again with the other seven women and took another score of attackers down with their arrows. William cheered along with his troops despite his obvious fear for his wife. Tristan couldn’t quite fathom why women were treated as delicate porcelain dolls, all of the women he knew were the most headstrong, stubborn and admittedly; dangerous lot.

  A strangely familiar horn blasted from out on the battlefield. Fewer and fewer orcs and men came pouring over the battlements, until there were none at all. Bodies were strewn around the battlements, and pages ran up the stairs to begin clearing them away. Orc, man and Suttenite bodies were separated into attackers and defenders. Attackers were hefted up and tossed over the walls while the defenders were stripped of rings and other keepsakes and hauled over to a growing funeral pyre, which had been allowed to burn down during the latest attack.

  Meanwhile, attackers who were already inside the battlements had formed a unit of their own and traveled around the inner town wreaking havoc everywhere. The organized Suttenites killed attacking warriors bit by bit, until within the fortress there was fewer than fifty of them left.

  Fred shouted for an attack and the dome broke apart as the last fifty attackers tried to flee the courtyard they’d allowed themselves to stumble into. Most of them fell to the women’s arrows, though some of them fell to Lion Clan archers who had managed to barricade themselves inside a tower closer to the battlements.

  “You two, see if you can undo the damage you did to the gate. We should keep the pressure on while they retreat!” Fred shouted to Tristan and William over the shouts of his own men.

  By the time the cousins reached the gate the last of the troll engineers had been slaughtered and the only thing still holding the gate shut was the large timber. William called over a few more men and together they hefted the chunk of wood out of its cradle.

  “Now, how do we get the damned thing open?” The Prince asked of his cousin.

  William pointed to a pair of long poles on either side of the door. He explained as they returned to the battlements that they turned to release the locks on the top and bottom of the gate. Tristan looked over the parapet as they approached his uncle. The battlefield was a mess; bodies piled high, fires burning in odd places, abandoned towers on fire, shattered ladders littering the ground at the foot of the Heatherington walls. The familiar horn blared over the battlefield again and the familiarity clicked in Tristan’s mind.

  “That’s Kevin!” He blurted.

  “Duke Kevin?” His uncle asked.

  The attackers were being pushed closer to them as Kevin’s force took the fight to them from the rear. His brothers’ force was fanned out, encircling the invaders and forcing them to fight as they backed into the rotting piles of bodies of their fallen comrades. Tristan smiled as Fred ordered the archers to pick targets. When the order to fire came, the nearest giant was filled with at least a hundred arrows. He tittered back and forth, blood drenching his ragged clothing. Finally, the enormous creature dramatically groaned, tilted and fell over, knocking down two towers and killing a further score of Terum soldiers. A cheer went up along the walls as the archers drew back for another volley.

  “Loose!” Uncle Fred called calmly.

  Another score of arrows crossed the gap between the defenders walls and the attackers. Men fell from horses; orcs fell from their wargs, large canines the size of a horse with jagged teeth and long claws, and giants ran for the mountains. Their army was in full rout leaving only the core Terum force, which were already dropping their weapons and calling for parley.

  Within minutes, Terum soldiers were being herded into a small group, surrounded on all sides by Kevin’s army. Tristan’s chest swelled with pride as his older brother rode forward and dismounted as he handed his reins off to a soldier. He began issuing orders to his men as the hairs on the back of Tristan’s neck began to rise.

  He wasn’t sure exactly how he knew, but Tristan knew that a sorcerer below was conjuring a spell. Tristan motioned for his uncles’ longbow again. The Prince drew back the longbow, searching the defeated soldiers below as they were backed still closer to the Heatherington walls. Tristan could see his older brother moving through his army, restoring order and issuing commands, his height separating him easily from those around him. Panic began to set in, Tristan could feel a spell of terrible magnitude was being conjured, but he couldn’t find the damned magician!r />
  “William, help!” He called.

  William drew back his own bow, looking sideways questioningly at his cousin.

  “What am I looking for?” He asked.

  “That damned sorcerer.” Tristan replied quickly.

  “There, the far left close to that toppled tower!” His uncle called.

  Tristan let his arrow fly. It flew straight and true, but struck a magical barrier surrounding the mage mere inches from his neck. The Prince swore, he was panicking and trying desperately to come up with a solution.

  Kevin worked his way through his army and walked forward to stand in front of King Roger. The King of Terum was brother to Samuel, the former patrician of Irudin that Kevin had executed for treason less than a year ago. The two of them approached one another, the anger flowing off each man like steam from a hot bath.

  The two men began yelling at one another, waving their arms about, pointing at borders and the keep. Then it came to Tristan, as if a voice in his mind told him calmly the solution. He reached up and tugged out a hair from his head, tied it around Williams’ arrow and nodded for him to shoot.

  William’s arrow whistled through the air as it descended quickly on the sorcerer. It sent up a shower of blood as it collided with the sorcerer’s neck knocking him sideways. Kevin and Roger looked over in shock as the sorcerer fell, his spell interrupted.

  While Kevin was distracted by the sudden death of the magic user, Roger lifted his left arm up and pulled a dagger from the inside of his bracer. He raised the dagger over his head, ready to strike.

  He went limp fell forward at Kevin’s feet, an arrow sticking out of the back of his neck. Kevin looked up to the battlements. Tristan’s bowstring was still quivering, his eyes closed and his shoulders sagged in relief.