The Eternal Darkness (17 page)

“You will be careful, won’t you, Marcus?” Norlan asked quietly.  “I’ve seen many a young man’s passion get the best of him.”

  “I give you my word, Norlan,” Marcus replied as he reached out to lay a hand on the smith’s shoulder.  “You and Madalin have given me more than I can ever repay.”

“It has been our pleasure.  Madalin and I have grown very fond of you.  If I may be so bold, we see you and Jake as sons we never had.”  A look of frustration crossed Norlan’s face.  “Now, both of you are facing dangers and I cannot be there to help you.”

“You are helping me,” Marcus stated emphatically.  “I can ride away in peace since I know that you will be here to support and protect Keria.”

“I will do everything I can to keep her safe,” Norlan replied seriously.  He fixed Marcus with a steady gaze.  “You only think about the task before you.  You cannot be distracted with thoughts of home.”

“I will, Norlan,” Marcus said.  He swung up into the saddle and extended his hand.  “Until we see each other again.”

“Until then,” Norlan said, his grip firm as they shook hands.  With a final nod, he picked up his maul and headed off.

As Marcus looked back towards the palace, he saw Nathen and Daen ride around the palace, dressed in their armor, and head towards him.  They split apart and halted their horses on either side of him.

“Ready?” Marcus asked.

“When am I not?” Nathen said with a laugh.

“As ready as I will ever be,” Daen stated, shaking his head at Nathen’s jibe.

“Nice helm,” Nathen said as they started forward.  “That shiny gold piece makes such a lovely target.  You do realize that will make it hard for us to protect you since ever screaming raider will see you as a prize to take.”

“I need it to demonstrate my authority with the other nobles,” Marcus said calmly.  Nathen delighted in reminding Marcus that Keria had ordered him and Daen to act as Marcus’ personal guard.  Their orders were to be with him at all times.  “Rest easy, Nathen.  Since I am prohibited from taking part in the battle, we will be far enough back from the line.  If the raiders can get to us, then we have much larger problems to deal with.”

Nathen laughed.  “Well, I guess we can only hope that Reiden’s plan works then.”

The three rode out of the palace grounds and headed for the West Gate.  A path cleared for them on the street as officers and sergeants recognized Marcus and ordered their men to make way.  Marcus raised his hand in salute as he rode by the soldiers, who responded with cheers for him.  They passed through the gate courtyard, which was filled with soldiers and wagons slowly filing out the gate.

Once they were out of the city, they pick up the pace and headed for the mass of men and equipment gathered to the north.  They rode through the assembling formation, passing by quartermasters working to get the army ready to move.  They headed towards the line of waving banners near the front of the formation.

Commander Reiden, with Helgrant next to him, was speaking with a group of officers as Marcus rode up.  He saw Marcus, but finished giving his officers their orders before he acknowledged him.

“Greetings, Prince Marcus,” Reiden said with a salute.  “We should be prepared to leave as soon as the troops clear the city.”

“I defer to your military judgment regarding the movement of the army, Commander,” Marcus replied.  “Simply let me know how I can help.”

“I am glad you said that, my prince,” Reiden stated.  “I have had ‘discussions’ with some of the nobles about the placement of their men-at-arms.  Apparently, they are unhappy that they are not near the head of the formation.  Something about status, I’m sure.  I would appreciate it if you would speak with them on this issue.”

“Let me know where you want them and I will make sure they are there,” Marcus said, shaking his head. 
Who thinks of something like that now?

By the time he had returned from speaking to the various nobles, emphasizing his expectation that they would follow Reiden’s orders without any further ‘discussions,’ the army was ready to march.  He took his place near Reiden and was joined by several of the high-ranking nobles, including Lord Genela, who looked decidedly uncomfortable in his chain mail.  Everyone looked to him.

“Commander,” he said in a clear voice.  “You may give the order to march.”

Reiden nodded, drew his sword, and then spun his horse to face the soldiers.  “Army of Sanduas!” he bellowed.  “Forward to victory!” His command was repeated by the officers in the smaller units, working its way through the mass of men.  The commander turned his horse again and rode forward.  Marcus and the nobles spurred their horses and joined him as the army, amid the clamor of whinnying horses, creaking leather, and shouted orders, began its march.

…

Five days later, Marcus, with Daen and Nathen as his side, felt the first drops of rain hit his face as he stood with the other commanders near the top of the hill.  The hill was near the center of their lines, which stretched in an arc, following the curve of the hills.  The low dark clouds blocked most of the sunlight, with the rain now beginning to obscure their view.  They were watching towards the north, waiting for the battle to begin.

They had arrived two days before, arriving in the late afternoon.  Reiden had kept the army marching long hours, trusting the clerics to heal any soldier that suffered injury.  Once they arrived, he had allowed only the night’s rest, and then set the army to work.  The soldiers dug pits to slow cavalry and built barricades along the line, using the trees in the hills to create hasty walls.

There were several openings along the line, where Sir Alleon and the other knights gathered, to allow the heavy horse to charge as needed.  Behind the barricades was the infantry with spears and shields.  Beyond them were rows of archers, prepared to unleash a storm of arrows when the enemy arrived.

Throughout the army and on the lines with the soldiers, the clerics also waited.  Brother Trence, after speaking with Reiden, had ordered all of the clerics to wear armor.  In the coming battle, only the clerics could withstand the demons, so they had to be able to survive the conventional assault.

Behind the hill that they were on, Trence had set up a healing tent, staffed with some of the older clerics and younger apprentices.  Soldiers who could not be healed on the line would be brought back to the tent.

The weather had turned last night, with a cold southerly wind bringing the clouds and rain.  Marcus was concerned on the effect of the rain on the archers, but Reiden was confident that they could do their duty well, regardless of the weather.

That morning, several hundred light cavalry soldiers and scouts, along with nearly a hundred clerics, had ridden out to find and engage the invaders, drawing them south into the trap that Reiden had set for them.  The plan was to bring them into the center of the hills, waiting until they were committed, and then unleashing the archers to hit them from three sides.  Any enemy that survived that would have to make their way through the traps and barricades to face soldiers that had the advantage of the high ground.  As the infantry pinned them down, the heavy horse would charge in, attacking their flanks.  By staying behind their defenses, they should be able to withstand the greater numbers of the invaders in a prolonged fight.

A flash of light, obscured by the rain, lit the sky to their north, followed by a sound like a clap of thunder.  Marcus tensed as more flashes appeared, coming in rapid succession, the rain muting their light and the noise, but it was clear that it was not natural.  It could only be the clerics battling demons and they were getting closer.

In spite of the rain, Marcus was able to make out a smaller group of figures ride out of the gloom into the center of the valley between the hills.  They were racing towards the lines.  Like a swarm of fireflies, the clerics in the group were glowing in power, sending lances of golden light streaking behind them. 

The clerics’ targets were the demons running with a large formation of horsemen.  The demons met the clerics’ might with their own dark fire, sending flashes of light and sound rolling through the hills.  While there only appeared to be a hundred or so of the demons, the horsemen numbered several thousand, many armed with short bows. They rode hard, slowly closing the gap between the groups.

As the groups got closer, Marcus could see some of the soldiers and clerics begin to fall from their saddles, others going down with their horses, tumbling across the ground, brought down by arrows or demon fire.  The pursuing horsemen and demons killed any that still moved.

Feeling helpless as more of the cavalry fell, he did not realize that he was holding his breath until the demons and enemy riders came within reach of the archers.  Reiden waited until he was sure that they were committed, and then cried out, “Archers, loose!”

The humming of a thousand bowstrings sounded across the hills as a dark cloud of arrows arced into the sky.  The arrows seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and then descended with increasing speed.  Even before the arrows reached the ground, another wave was already in flight.

The enemy formation seemed to collapse as the arrows struck home.  The screams of dying horses and men, carried along the wind, reached Marcus as he watched the enemy wither under the attack.  There was mass confusion as the horses and their riders panicked, racing off in different directions, trying to get away from the next wave of arrows already in flight.

With their formation gone, several large groups of riders, hundreds strong, rode towards the line, trying to get under the arrows’ flight.  They charged forward and ran into the pits that the soldiers had dug.  Horses and men stumbled and fell as the ground gave way.

Those that made it past the pits surged into the barricades.  They were stopped by the obstacles, their numbers preventing any maneuvering.  The invaders attempted to attack, but the infantry surged forward, their spears thrusting in the gaps in the barricades around, wreaking havoc.  Men fell on both sides, but the clerics raced to aid the injured soldiers while the enemy simply died.

“Archers, select targets!” Reiden called out, his order repeated along the line.  Marcus saw the archer begin to pick their targets, sending arrows flying over the heads of the soldiers fighting and into the enemy, adding to the carnage.

Marcus spotted a group of twenty demons that had survived the archers’ attack, clustered together, charge towards the line.  He could perceive that the demons were wearing armor, something he had not seen before.  They ran at the soldiers, bestial cries trailing their dark fire that lashed out at the barricades.  Before the demons’ power reached the men, all along the line, golden lights suddenly shone, pushing back the gloom, as the clerics embraced their power and countered the demons’ attacks.  The clash of opposing magics echoed loudly, drowning out the cries of the enemy falling to spears and arrows.  The demons resisted the clerics’ fire long enough to make it to the outer barricades before the clerics converged on them.  Facing the combined might of hundreds of clerics and the arrows of the archers that now targeted them, the demons faltered and tried to turn and flee, but, between the archers and clerics, they were quickly destroyed.

“Archers, halt!” Reiden ordered.  “Horse, advance!”

With a rumbling of hooves, the knights charged.  They rode out of the line, splitting off into smaller groups, and then attacked the remaining enemy from different angles.  They picked up speed, and then lowered their spears right before they made contact with the enemy.  All resistance from the enemy crumbled and those that still lived tried to turn and flee.  The knights pursued, running down the enemy and destroying them.

With a suddenness that shocked him, the battle was over.  Marcus looked out on the battlefield, seeing the enemy dead and dying littering the ground on the valley floor, with arrows covering the ground like some lethal weed.  Several companies of soldiers left the line, accompanied by clerics, to destroy any surviving demons, help those of the enemy that could be saved, and recover the arrows for the next wave of attackers.

Reiden sent scouts out to locate the rest of the approaching enemy.  The few enemy prisoners that had survived the attack, bound tightly and sitting in stony silence, refused to speak with them.  The soldiers collected the weapons and effects of their dead foes, trying to gather information, but nothing was helpful.

Out of curiosity, Marcus went to view the prisoners.  The men had long hair tied off behind their heads, were clean-shaven, and dressed in similar leather and chainmail armor.  Despite this obvious discipline, there was a hint of wildness about these men.  Marcus could not say why they struck him as such.  It was not the demon-induced madness of the half-men, but just a sense that they did not regard life in the same terms as he did.

The army regrouped behind the barricades and waited.  After several more hours, Marcus spotted the scouts returning.  When he arrived at the command tent, Reiden was speaking with his officers.  He motioned Marcus over.  “Your Highness, it is now clear that the enemy did not take the bait.  The scouts have not seen any sign of their army.  I believe that their main force continued to march towards the crossroads.”

“What do you recommend?” Marcus asked.

“As we planned, we must abandon this position and go in pursuit,” Reiden said.  “While we will forgo the protection of the hills, we cannot let that army march away unopposed.  If the engineers have gotten the bridge down, we can pin the enemy against the river.  Their inability to maneuver with their backs to the river should help us overcome their strength in numbers.”

“How do we know that the engineers have taken down the bridge?” Marcus asked.

“We don’t, but the enemy is still several days from the bridge,” Reiden stated.  “That should be enough time to finish the demolition.”  He paused for a moment.  “Do I have your permission to mobilize the army to march?”

“You do,” Marcus said grimly.

…

That night, along the Blue River, with its strong and fast waters only a few feet away, Captain Kena surveyed the support structure under the bridge with his torch.  He led the engineers that were attempting to bring down the bridge.  He was feeling both frustrated and a bit in awe as he studied the stonework above him. The men who built this bridge had built it for the ages, but that made his task that much harder.