by Umut Ersezer
“The king wishes you personally attend to the recruitment and deployment process for it is a delicate one. A process that requires a man of honour and confidentiality. The able-bodied amongst the populace should be trained to fight while the less abled, well, the king wishes you to teach the other commanders how best to incorporate them into battle.”
“I understand general, but my rank prohibits me from such actions as conscription.”
“Yes, commander, please take a knee.”
Both men stood up, the commander realising what was going to happen next.
Since winning his black plate armour in the games as a lowly but exceptionally talented swordsman, he had gained a new thirst for not only battle but power and ascension among the Driturian military. His skills, combined with the power of the plate, provided an accelerated pathway through the ranks.
His new abilities had opened doors he could only once dream of. Being recruited into the military to serve was only but a small part of his vision for himself. The commander kneeled, bowing his head before his general.
The general unsheathed his sword, resting its point on the commander’s sword-wielding shoulder and proclaimed, “With the powers granted to me by the majesty of Dritura, King Hastam, I, General Brite, grant you the rank of high commander of the Driturian military.”
High commander was the second-highest rank in the Driturian military with general being the highest. It granted him access to more numbers of soldiers to command, and he could now dictate the deployment of colossal siege weapons of war.
“You honour me general,” the commander said, almost at a whisper.
He felt power surging through him, he would bring an end to this war. He would do what it takes, whatever it was. He would not stop there however, for the commander had aspirations beyond this war. Goals that would see the world shake before him. The fire roared brighter as if stoked by the gravity of the moment. Every rank the commander ascended meant more control over his destiny. Power he never had in his youth.
“Rise High Commander Trajan, for you have work to do. Take your most trusted men and do what must be done to win this war. It is time to break this stalemate with decisive action. Return to this garrison when you have your new army to command, we will join forces and bring an end to this.”
** Chapter 5 **
The Taking
The village square exploded with action, villagers forcing their way past the foot soldiers. The soldiers trying desperately to contain the villagers, pushing back on them. It was descending into madness and panic, the villagers could sense that they would be taken by force, and the soldiers could sense they were losing control of the crowd.
“Get control, men!” commanded Trajan, “do what you must!”
The soldiers started hitting the villagers, dragging them to the ground, tying them up to restrain them. Multiple villagers were being tied together by their hands and feet. Cries of pain and anguish ringing out through the entire village as more soldiers descended upon them from the outskirts. This was a coordinated move by Trajan to trap the villagers into the centre and take what he needed.
Calidum took hold of his family and dragged them through the crowds.
“Move! We must get out of sight!” cried Cal. He rammed his shoulder into a soldier knocking him out of his way, allowing them to escape the chaos unfolding in the village square.
Volare felt panicked and more scared than he had ever felt in his life. What’s happening? he thought.
“Be sure to take the dwarf!” one of the soldiers yelled.
“No!” Volare screamed, trying to break free of his father’s grip to go to Faber’s aid. But Cal’s hold was too strong, desperate even to make sure he didn’t lose his boys in the commotion. Fidum was also pushing into the boys’ backs, urging them forward. Volare turned back to see several soldiers pinning Faber down, tying him up and unceremoniously carrying him away.
His heart pained to bear witness to the rough treatment of his friend. They can’t do this, Volare kept thinking in his mind.
The villagers were trying to fight back against the soldiers, but it was futile. They were clad in armour and carried bludgeoning weapons to incapacitate any resistance.
All around him Volare saw bloodied faces from beatings and clashes between the villagers and soldiers. Trajan sitting atop his warhorse looked out into the crowds, emanating arrogance and power, his nose held up slightly as if to show this was beneath him. He saw the people as weak and pathetic, ready to be controlled and dominated.
The commotion had kicked up vast clouds of dust that enveloped the entire village, it was getting hard to see and harder to breathe. Volare started coughing while being dragged through the streets. They managed to avoid any direct clashes but had seen many of their own beaten down and tied up along the way. To Volare’s surprise, however, they weren’t just taking the fighting men but the women too. Why? Volare thought.
So far, he didn’t see any children being taken, which he was relieved about, but the fear he held for his parents was profound. He couldn’t bear to lose them, he had to protect them.
“Here!” Cal called out. He had brought them to their home.
“No, we must flee, they’ll find us here!” cried Volare, terrified, close to hysterics.
He wished he could be braver. He desperately wanted to help his father, but he just didn’t know what to do. He wanted to run, he wanted them all to run.
“We cannot outrun them, and they’ve surrounded the village, get in!” commanded his father.
Fidum ushered the boys into the hut, it was well built and solid enough to withstand intense coastal storms. It had four chambers to sleep, dine and live in but nowhere to hide.
Cal walked into the parent’s bedroom and pushed the bed aside, pulling the rug away that was underneath to reveal a trap door. Cal lifted the door revealing an underground room, it was eerily dark and smelt of damp earth. I didn’t know we had this, when did father dig this out? thought Volare with his mouth open in surprise.
“Get in and stay quiet,” Cal whispered to his family.
Without a word, they filed into the basement descending a small ladder into the awaiting darkness.
“Aren’t you coming!?” whispered Volare to his father.
“I can’t, I need to hide the trap door from the outside.”
“But…” Volare looked at his mother, surely she would get father into the basement with them. Fidum had tears in her eyes and was staring intently at Cal.
“I love you, Cal,” said Fidum. Cal nodded back and mouthed his love for Fidum in reply. She looked down at her boys and held them tight.
“NO!” cried both Volare and Amet. Fidum only tightened her grip on the boys with tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. Volare tried to wriggle free as Cal dropped the trap door, sending the basement into total darkness, but it was no use, Fidum’s arm around him seemed to have the strength of a troll.
The only light seeping in was through the cracks in the floorboards. Volare could hear his father slide the bed back once again, concealing the trap door.
The silence growing pronounced around them, they could hear Cal make his way for the front door as they listened to his footsteps fading out of the bedroom. He’s going to lead them away, thought Volare.
They could still hear the distant shouts of the villagers, reminding them of the violence that was taking place outside of their home. The noise amplified when Cal opened the front door to step out. Will I ever see him again? thought Volare.
There was a sudden crash as the door was flung open, nearly being thrown off its hinges. Cal was kicked in his stomach and sent flying back into the hut. Soldiers poured in through the door pouncing on Cal. He struggled, but it was no use, within seconds he was tied up in rope and being dragged out.
Volare could only see shadows block the tiny rays of light that trickled through the floorboards, his mother now holding her hand over his mouth, tightly, so that he couldn’t make any noise. He could start making ou
t detail in the gloom of the basement, his brother, who would nearly always be smiling, now only had terror in his eyes. His deep sea-green eyes looking back at him, filling with tears. Fidum only looked up, watching.
A soldier remained in the hut and looked around the hut with suspicious eyes as if he thought ghosts were in the room.
“C’mon Borda!” one of the soldiers from outside called.
Borda left the hut leaving the door open behind him. Fidum and the two boys breathed out in a sigh of relief. The grief of their father being taken now setting in.
“We have to get him back!” whispered Volare.
“Hush!” retorted Fidum, “we will wait here until they are gone.”
**
It had taken two or three hours, but the noises from outside the hut had now dissipated. It seemed that Trajan and his men had left. Now to get out of the basement, but how?
Fidum climbed the ladder and pushed the trap door open, the bed prevented it from fully opening. It left only a small gap before hitting the underside of the bed. I can squeeze out, thought Volare.
He motioned to his mother to make way for him, and he squeezed himself through the opening of the trap door, wriggling like a worm out from under the bed and rolling free. He stood up and pushed the bed to one side, helping his mother open the trap door fully.
The fresh air across their faces and into their lungs was invigorating. The basement had grown stuffy and claustrophobic during their stay. They stepped out into the daylight to look around only to be greeted by a scene of devastation. Boxes and peoples’ belongings were strewn everywhere. What was once a clean and tidy village had been turned into a horrible mess. Buildings and huts were damaged as well and in need of repair from the tussles between villagers and soldiers.
People were lying on the ground injured, some holding each other in a state of shock and disbelief. How could this happen? wondered Volare. As far as he knew nothing like this had ever happened before and Volare was still wondering why there was a secret basement in his hut. Did father know this would happen, how could he?
They walked through the village, helping others to their feet and checking to make sure the remaining people in the village were okay. They wanted to know who else had been taken. It was a devastating number, at least half of the village, both men and women seemed to be missing. Everyone was at a loss about what to do next. People were gathering in the village square once again, numbers severely diminished. Some were calling for those taken to be rescued while others wanted to flee the village and hide away.
“How can we fight against them?” shouted one villager.
“We have to, we have to get them back! We can’t just let our people be taken like that!”
“How I ask!”
“I…I don’t know,” the villager said, sounding defeated.
“We rebuild, they will come back to us once this war is over,” said another.
The admission was crushing for they didn’t know how to fight, nor did they have the numbers to mount a rescue. They were simple farmers and merchants, how could they. After considerable further argument amongst the villagers in the square, the crowd started to disperse. No action would be taken or had been planned.
Later that evening, Volare sat on his bed in a state of shock, his brother next to him, looking down at his feet.
“Is dad going to come back?” Amet asked.
“I don’t know,” said Volare wiping tears from his face. He hugged his brother, he missed Amet’s smile.
“He will return to us” Fidum chimed in, “I know he will, your father is strong, stronger than you realise.”
What did she mean by that? Volare thought. He couldn’t help but feel scared. He had been paralysed, not knowing what to do, wishing he could be braver. He remembered the hard time he had given his father in the morning and felt shame. He couldn’t bear to think of the last exchange they had. I acted like a brat, he thought, ashamed of his behaviour. I let him down, I shouldn’t have let him be taken away. Volare swallowed, taking in a deep lungful of air. He forced his anxiety down into a place within where he could hide it, I will rescue him, he thought. I will find a way, and I’m going to find him, they couldn’t have got too far.
“Here, eat this boys, your father was saving it for an important moment. We eat in his honour tonight and pray to the gods for his return.”
Fidum was cooking above the fire stove, filling the hut with delicious smells of cooked meat and vegetable stew. However, Volare hadn’t even perceived his mother cooking; he was in such a state. But he now took notice of the sweet, smoky smell of cooked keef meat diffusing through the hut.
His stomach immediately gave a grumble, he was starving. He hadn’t noticed until now. He would eat well tonight, as much as he could stuff into his belly, for he would need the energy. Tonight, I sneak out and find my father, I won’t let them take him, Volare thought, not believing himself. His fears rushing back up his throat, choking him into inaction. No, I have to be brave, I have to try.
** Chapter 6 **
The Rescue
The chill of night had fallen, with the horrors of the day behind him, Volare was tucked into bed, waiting until he felt confident his mother and brother were asleep.
As quietly as he could, he climbed out of bed and gathered the rucksack he had prepared earlier. He had stuffed it with clothes, food, strapecot, water and flint.
Volare tiptoed out of his room and through the living quarters. His world was moving in slow motion, every step, every breath deliberately slowed to a crawl. The floorboards creaked below his gentle steps, but not loud enough to wake the home. The door gave a protesting creak as Volare pried it open stepping out into the chill night. It was so calm, so still, a juxtaposition to the events of the day before. His shoes crunched on the red sandy ground much louder than he remembered.
As he crept his way to the outer edges of the village, he could hasten his steps. He had to hurry, but how could he even find them? Volare headed in the direction where he had first seen Trajan come from, desperately searching for foot and hoof prints. He found them, easily, the sheer number of people and horses marching out of the village left the ground pockmarked that Volare could follow. Highlighted by the moons glow, the trail filled him with the hope that he could find his father.
He walked for hours, the moon rising high above Volare’s head. It cast an eerie glow on the ground without creating shadows. How far did they trek? Volare thought, growing concerned with how far away he was getting from home. He hadn’t expected them to have travelled so far already.
His fears and self-doubt once again rising, squashing the confidence he had forced upon himself to leave the relative safety of his hut. His nerves began to play tricks on his mind, he started seeing shadows darting around in the trees and bushes around him.
What kind of predators were out here? He hadn’t even taken a weapon with him, not that he knew the first thing about how to use one.
Rustles and small noises could now be life-threatening. I’m a fool! Volare thought. How did I think I could do this? I will be eaten by a klougar before I even reach them. What will I even reach, what am I looking for? None of these questions had seemed relevant to Volare before leaving the village, but now they were pressing the forefront of his mind. Just keep walking, keep following the tracks you’ll get there.
He took a drink of some water and ate veamber, which fuelled his skinny body. A little went a long way and having a farm to collect them from certainly was convenient for him. But he knew it wouldn’t last forever, he would need to find them soon.
The hours continued, and Volare was growing tired, he didn’t know how far he had trekked now, but he felt like he had walked to the ends of Celestus. He had never walked so far in his life, before where his pace was hastened was now replaced with laboured and heavy legs, sleep clawing at his eyes, slowing him down further.
Off in the distance, through the trees, he saw a speck of light. He strained to see more, the spec
k growing into a small glow. Could it be a fire? With new energy, he elongated his strides and hurried towards the source of the light. Half an hour later, he saw men standing amongst the trees. Had they seen him?
Volare went off the well-worn pathway and into the forest itself. Stealthily weaving his way closer, making sure to stay out of the men’s line of sight. He crept around, closer, climbing an adjacent hill.
Taking care not to slip, he peeked above the crest of the hill. Into the distance he could see a clearing with tens of carriages with metal bars on their backs, imprisoning those within. People were crammed into them, sitting on benches in suffocating conditions.
There were so many, more than the people that had been taken from Vicus. They had raided from other villages, gathering into this central position. Soldiers were tucked into their sleeping rolls into groups that huddled around small campfires. Again, so many soldiers. How can I rescue anyone with this many soldiers in the camp?
There were still many more surrounding the campgrounds standing guard, hidden amongst the dense forest growth. It’s impossible, Volare thought with resignation. Then an idea struck, maybe I can get close enough to learn where they’re going.
New energy filled Volare as he mentally mapped a pathway to get closer. He could see ridges and hills that stood above the camp looking down on it, maybe that would be close enough to hear what was going on without being seen.
It was his best hope. He set off through the growth once again making sure to place his feet deliberately to minimise his noise. He stayed crouched, scrutinising what lay ahead of him to make sure no lookouts impeded his way.
He reached his target. It was a small ridge overlooking the camp and was just close enough to see and hear what was happening down below. His only obstacle now was a guard standing watch, who was in Volare’s direct pathway. He needed to distract him. Volare picked up a stone and threw it into the forest, making a small sound.
The guard whipped his head around, he was alert. He turned and faced the direction of the noise, but he didn’t move closer to it. Blast! Volare thought. He probably just thinks it’s a bunzi. Volare remained crouched behind a bush, peering through to see what the guard would do.
