by Alex Janaway
A scrabbling sound and a black shape hauled itself up on to the lip of the foot. More started to follow. An arrow from one of his scouts hit the leading wood elf and it fell backward. The next in line followed. Killen rushed forward as another wood elf climbed up. He chopped downwards, and the wood elf grunted. Misha leaned over and stabbed with her sabre and the wood elf fell away. Killen strained to see down into the passage, but it was too damned black. To his right the fighting had stopped.
‘Come on. Let’s go.’
With Misha at his side he jogged across the uneven surface of the foot towards what was the little toe, the other scouts joining him as they went. They followed a shallow slope back down to the trail proper.
‘We good?’ he called.
‘Sir!’ a shadow jogged up to him.
‘Sadad, everyone OK?’
‘No casualties.’
‘Happy days.’
Another shadow joined them.
‘Major, we should go. If there are any more they might try to climb over the foot,’ said Anneli.
‘Then let’s move out.’ At least there would be no pursuit from cavalry along this path. The enemy would have to find another route. Sadly, there were several.
Killen led his people along the trail and around to an open area where their camels and Anneli’s eagle waited. His eyes had adjusted to the dark but there was still precious little to see. He located the line of camels all sitting patiently. He worked his way to the front where his particular curse was. Anneli tapped him on the shoulder. ‘I’m going to have to leave you. I need to get back to Eagle’s Rest.’
‘Understood. Will you find your way?’
‘I’ll be fine. Eagle’s Rest still maintains a night light. We’ll spot it.’
‘Good luck.’
‘Thank you. Keep making your way west. I’ll bring help.’
‘Please do.’
She disappeared into the night.
Killen climbed aboard his camel. It finally had a name: Bajin, the Erebeshi word for bastard. In honour of Hassan. He swayed savagely as Bajin pushed up, making a deep whining sound of complaint. Whatever. He waited a few moments to allow the others to get mounted and upright. ‘Sadad? You ready?’
‘Yes, Major.’
‘Take it slow and steady. Let’s try not to wander off the path and fall to our deaths.’
Sadad made a clicking sound and his camel started to move. Killen repeated the sound and using a small thin switch, goaded Bajin to follow. Sadad became indistinct, but the large mass of his camel was easy enough to track. And if there was one thing Killen had learned, camels liked following other camels. A sharp pain in his arm drew his attention, that wound of his was playing up. He should clean and dress it again, when he next had the chance.
CHAPTER 12 – OWEN
Owen’s mind raced as he glided among the peaks, heading home as fast as Arno could take him. He had turned directly west as soon as he had seen the beacon. It didn’t matter for what reason it had been lit. The reaction was clear, treat it like it was an invasion and pull back to the first set of prepared positions. There was little point in trying to meet up with anyone, getting back to Eagle’s Rest was all that mattered. If the wood elves, or whoever it was, were coming, then the time for goading was over and the first real test of their resolve was upon them.
An hour later he spotted an eagle, flying almost parallel to him. He pulsed a greeting but there was no response. He angled Arno towards the other one and with some urging, his eagle was able to speed up and intercept it. Owen could tell by the markings, it was Bes, Erskine’s eagle. Just as they drew level Erskine turned and saw them. He waved and pulled his face scarves away from his mouth. Owen did likewise. The two eagles drew closer, maintaining their speed
‘Owen! Did you see?’ Erskine shouted.
‘The beacons, yes,’ Owen shouted back.
‘The wood elves, they are pushing into the mountains.’
‘What are you doing?’
‘There is a mass of them moving through the lower slopes, hundreds. I was going to go and warn Eagle’s Rest.’
‘I’ll do that. Where are the others?’
‘Ernan is not back yet. Jussi and Anneli are running messages between our fighters. We are pulling back through the mountains, just like we planned.’
‘OK! I’m heading back. Keep watching that force, try and get a better estimate.’
‘I will!’ Erskine pulled his scarves back on and peeled away.
Owen replaced his own headgear and pulsed Arno to head for home. He flew over the higher valleys and meadows, looking for signs of his people. But there were none. They would be lying low and there was no sign of the enemy. They would be smarter than that.
Finally he passed over a ridge and Eagle’s Rest appeared in front of him. He flew in a tight circle seeing nothing amiss, except perhaps, more folk manning the wall, which now had a shallow ditch in front of it and a hedge of sharp metal spikes spouting from the sides nearest the wall. No one would be pulling the same stunt that he had in scaling that wall and retaking the settlement from Gerat. He swooped over the square and the roosting barn. He landed and got to settling Arno. The war might be on its way, but this routine was important and necessary.
Naimh and Jenni walked into the shed. Both were wearing leather armour and carried long knives on their belts, Jenni carried her spear.
‘Owen, good to a have you home,’ said Naimh.
‘Good to be home.’
‘You saw the beacons?’
‘Yes.’
‘You were fortunate. Only two were lit.’
He looked over as he unbuckled saddlebags. ‘Only two?’
Jenni leaned into her spear. ‘Killen called it a “reconnoitre in force”. I think that means they sent lots of parties into the Highlands to find us.’
‘And have they?’
Naimh frowned. ‘Not yet.’
‘I saw Erskine. He’s spotted a large force entering the foothills.’
‘It’s only a matter of time, then.’
‘Yes,’ Owen pulled Arno’s saddle free and crab-walked it to the shelves. ‘Let’s head inside.’
He followed the women out but then paused. ‘Arno, you going to fly?’ The eagle did not move. Fair enough. Stepping out into the light, he inspected the community. Life continued, work and chores had not changed, children scampered about the place, but all those of age carried some kind of weapon. Such was the state of things. He passed the newly constructed stables that took up half of the free space of the square. Inside he could see a number of camels, and now that he was close, he could smell them.
‘Where is Killen, is he here?’
‘No, he is out there, fighting,’ Naimh said.
‘They all are,’ Jenni added.
They climbed the stairs to the hall in silence. Owen knew them well enough to see there was more news to share. They entered and found a table. Jenni poured him an ale while Naimh busied with cutting a hunk of bread. He accepted both gratefully.
‘We’ve had losses, haven’t we?’ he said as lightly as he could as he broke the bread in two.
It was Naimh who responded. ‘Larsen.’
He stopped and looked at them both. Naimh’s face was set hard, but Jenni’s eyes had grown glassy.
‘I’m so sorry.’ Larsen was tough, a fighter. A man who he could rely on. A friend. But not the first he had lost.
‘There are others, all of our beacon volunteers bar one,’ Naimh said. ‘Those at the base camp too, except Karl, he’s badly injured but somehow he’s still clinging to life. All who were with Larsen. Some of the Erebeshi.’
‘That’s who we know about,’ added Jenni. ‘We’re not sure about all the eagles.’
‘I saw Erskine. They are all fine.’
‘Captain Rashad returned yesterday and left his camels. He said they were no good out there,’ said Naimh. It was a fair point. It was not territory they could operate well in. Fortunately, wood elf cavalry would fair
little better.
‘How far out are the wood elves?’
‘They’ve been trying to find routes through the eastern passes. We’ve been holding them off, trying to take out their advance groups, leading them along to the ambush sites but we don’t have the people to hold them all.’ Naimh poured more ale into Owen’s mug. ‘And every loss we take makes it easier for them to get through.’
‘They were always going to.’ Owen took a drink and toyed with his bread. They had looked to block some of the smaller routes in from the east, but the wood elves were tenacious, all they had to do was flank out wider. He smiled at the two women. ‘Our hidden fortress was always going to be found, eventually. Better we fight them on our terms.’
‘Are you going to get some rest?’ asked Jenni.
‘I should get out on the ground. See what I can do to help,’ he said, starting to rise. Naimh reached out and placed a firm hand on his, squeezing gently.
‘You should, but tomorrow. Others are out there, let them take the load. More messages may come in tonight, wait for them and then do what you need to do.’ Her tone was gentle, but there was a stern look in her eye.
‘Alright, Naimh. I am too tired to argue with you on this one. Arno and I could both do with some sleep. Will you wake me at sunup?’
‘Good decision,’ said Naimh, smiling softly.
‘Rest well. Owen,’ said Jenni, the tears had streaked her cheeks.
Owen gathered the ale and the plate of bread, stood and made for his room. Stopping at the stairs leading into the quarters below the hall, he turned. ‘I’m truly sorry about Larsen.’
Jenni nodded. ‘Thank you, Owen. Another one of our family gone.’
Yes, another. He entered the gloom of the caves below Eagle’s Rest and navigated his way back to his room. Setting the food and drink to one side, Owen sat on his bed and removed his boots. He sighed and lay back on to the mattress. It was true what he had said, there was always going to come a time when they’d have to stop fighting skirmishes and make a difference. He’d hoped that would have been on a different battleground, with allies beside them. If they’d found the Brevis Sea community earlier, they could have taken the fight into the east. He closed his eyes. Perhaps this was better. Eagle’s Rest was prepared. It was ready for a large-scale assault. The enemy would bleed to get here and would throw caution to the wind. Owen truly believed they could win this. But what would it cost?
CHAPTER 13 – KILLEN
In the washed-out false light before dawn, Killen scrambled along a faint trail that barely deserved the name. The only creatures that would normally use this would be the mountain goats who, on their endless quest for vegetation, laughed in the face of fear and vertical drops. Ahead of him a Highlander called Conor made the going easy. He was a boy, barely into his teens, but he had as little fear of heights as the goats. Oh, to be young again. Killen was breathing heavily and working hard to keep up with the lad, whose red hair was tied into a long ponytail that swished as he moved.
Their path paralleled the draw below which it curved sharply north, winding through a tight cutting that was now blocked by a crude stone wall. They stepped off the trail just beyond the wall and Killen made for the cave set back in the mountainside. The draw carried on around the mountain and headed into a wide valley covered with green forests and full of game. Just a day’s march away was Eagle’s Rest.
He tapped Conor on the shoulder. ‘Go tell the watchers on the wall that the enemy are almost here.’
‘Yes, Major.’
As he picked his way towards the cave, he could see a couple of cookfires within, flickering weakly. Not for the first time, he was deeply discomforted by the thought of being trapped, surrounded, with no way out. The Highlanders seemed happy enough living buried in the rock, but it was not the Erebeshi way, and not his either. He preferred being on the move, it was the freedom of having choices. If things got dicey, you withdrew, moved on, fought again. He understood the value of fixed positions, castles and forts and such, he just didn’t want to have to rely on one to keep him safe. And not for the first time, he wondered whether he should talk to Owen again, convince him that his scouts were better kept out of Eagle’s Rest. They could be used to harass the enemy, at least to start with. Strike them, bleed them and fade away. That was more their style than pitched battles. Either way he was pretty sure Owen would say no to his plan. It had been mooted before. He felt a degree of professional outrage at this. He did still officially outrank the Eagle Rider, if you got down to it. Killen shook his head. You made your choices.
Entering the cave, his eyes adjusted. Their camels occupied one side, all of them quiet and slumbering. On the other side, bedrolls and humped blankets indicated several troops still fast asleep. Though not Sadad, the leathery old scout was wide awake and sipping tea by a fire. Killen doubted if he ever did rest as he hunkered down next to him.
‘Better get everyone up. They are here.’
‘Very good, Major.’ Sadad offered him his cup and Killen took a sniff. ‘I thought we were all out of mint?’
‘You were all out of mint, Major,’ advised Sadad, as he stood and turned away.
Sneaky sod. He downed the tea and took to his feet, heading over to his bedroll to collect a short bow and bag of arrows. He left the confines of the cave as those recently roused quickly and quietly gathered their gear. The sky above was starting to lighten up. The tops of the western peaks were starting to shine. He calmly walked towards the wall spanning the draw and accepted a hand up on to the fighting step, nodding his thanks at the sentry. He placed a hand on the top of the wall and ran it along the length of the rock capping this section. The wall, half a yard thick, was eight feet high on the side facing outwards. There was four foot of rock protecting him from whatever was coming. It was, for a force attacking up the slope, formidable. Especially if that force had no siege weapons or breaching tools. And being that the force was wood elves, he was confident they wouldn’t. All being well, his small group could hold this position for some time.
Everyone was at the wall now and had taken up places on the fighting step, settling down behind the parapet. A mixed command of a half dozen Highlanders and his remaining Erebeshi scouts, just eight of them, from the original twenty he’d taken out. He felt a tug at his leg and looked down at Conor.
‘Major, do you want me to ride back to Eagle’s Rest?’
‘No, lad. Anneli will be back soon. She can carry the news. Grab yourself a spear and hop on up here.’ Conor nodded and scurried off. ‘And find a helmet,’ he whispered far too loudly.
Killen turned and raised his head to look over the wall. It was about ninety or so paces to where the draw disappeared around the mountain. That was their killing ground. He wasn’t the best of shots but under the circumstances needs must. The only way to pin the wood elf bastards down was to play them at their own game. It was a pity that woodland folk were such good shots.
The light improved as the minutes passed. He glanced down at Sadad. The scout shrugged nonchalantly. Killen scowled, where were they? He looked back just as a shape leaned out from behind the rocks ahead. Instinctively, Killen ducked, and an arrow flew right past where his head had just been.
‘Fuck!’
‘You think they know we’re here?’ asked a gruff Highland voice from further down the line.
As others chuckled softly, Killen breathed deep. Fucking sneaky wood elves.
Sadad huffed, ‘Not stupid.’
No, they weren’t. Wild and dangerous, and full of emotion. But not stupid. After days dealing with this fighting withdrawal it was obvious they weren’t going to play any more. And now they knew where Killen and his people were, why would a small wood elf scout party even try to engage? Fine by him, let them think about their plan. If they were smart, they’d start probing for a way round. Killen’s people were fixed here to make it all worthwhile.
He glanced down the line.
‘Everyone rest easy. We have their attention.
I want shifts, half on, half off. Just in case they try something.’
He tapped Sadad. ‘You go, I’ve got this.’
The scout tilted his head and regarded him with playful eyes. ‘Sure you don’t need to lie down?’
‘Bugger off,’ replied Killen.
As Sadad levered himself off the step, Killen took a moment. No, he wasn’t so sure, he was still shaking.
Three hours later, Killen jumped down from the fighting step and walked back to the cave. He was feeling weary and was looking forward to at least a little sleep. He’d reached the point where the tension had lost its edge. It was, as he expected, going to be a long and boring stand-off. He wondered how the other groups were faring, Rashad and the rest of his scouts were out there somewhere, similarly holding back the wood elf advance. Had the enemy perhaps, like here, run out of steam? Unlikely, but a man could dream.
In answer to his question, a shout dragged him back.
The crew on the fighting step were already engaging someone and Killen and the others scrambled to their positions. He climbed up and took a look. A crowd of wood elves, maybe a score, were running towards the wall. They were grouped together and held out their wood and hide shields in a ragged wall. They had already covered half the distance. Behind them a good half dozen wood elves were shooting bows. A scream preceded one of his scouts falling backwards off the step. Beside him Sadad aimed and loosed, downing one of their shooters. Killen looked at his bow. Too bloody late for that. A crunch at the wall signalled the arrival of the elves. Killen reached for his sword.
‘Prepare to repel!’ he shouted. And most of his fighters switched weapons. ‘Sadad, Abbas, keep at their archers!’
He stood up and leaned over the edge, stabbing down and into the snarling face of a climbing wood elf who fell back with a scream. All along the line of the wall, the wood elves were trying to climb up the uneven surface. The defenders pushed them back with spears and axes. The sound of grunting and the thunks of weapons striking shields as both sides struggled. A Highlander spun around and slumped against the wall. A wood elf fell backwards, taking a spear thrust to the chest. And then the assault ended, the elves stepping back and reforming their much diminished shield wall.
