Original Submissions
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The Warriors of Faith: Part III: "Clash of the God-Kings" by Ghost
Added on Jun 9, 2008The armies clash in the desert and the war rages on
CHAPTER 10
“As mortals, we have a barrier in the level of power we can wield. No matter what we try, with magick or psionics or by completely mundane means, sooner or later we will hit the wall and there is no trivial way to pass this wall. For perhaps this is a barrier put down by the God-like entities to stop us from challenging them. There are however, ways to pass this. One such means is the aid of God-like beings. By the proof of loyalty and devotion, such powers beyond the capability of men can be granted, as they can be taken away.
This may be the easy way to pass this barrier, but there is another way…”
- Gin of the Alleys
Dawn came with the spill of red light over the mountains, revealing the ruins of an ancient building sprawled in the golden expanse of the sands. Cracked walls, surrounded by broken stones and sculptures lying haphazardly in all directions, possessed none of their former glory. Amidst them all, the once proud tower was now a broken piece of jagged tooth, facing the crimson skies in a silent greeting.
Samil watched the battlefield from the top his horse. So many untold tales were hidden in these ruins. Generations of civilizations, cities once powerful and filled with life were now resting in peaceful stillness beneath the sands. Samil's heart ached at the sight. A thousand years from now, would anything be left for the world to see and wonder about him, the way he wondered about this relic of a building? He did not know. Soon the peaceful sleep would be disturbed by the clash of swords and the battle cries throughout the field. The face of the earth would be tainted with the spilled blood and gore; the air with that old, almost comforting smell of battle.
"A good day to die, Captain?" Samil chose to ask the traditional question to clear his mind.
"As good as any, sir" replied the captain.
"What do you think of the enemy's deployment?" Samil asked, bringing his gaze back on the ranks of the Allanaki force.
"Sir, the main infantry is directly across the field and facing ours. The archers are stretched thin in front of the main force, I believe it will be a usual "fire until the engage and pull back."" Samil nodded his approval at the captain's words, without looking. The captain stretched his arm to point at the enemy flanks:
"He is keeping the half giants behind the ranks I assume he does not plan to open with the usual "clash of the half giants." It is fine from our standpoint as well. If anything, I will send them in the field if there is an immediate need to open ranks in the flanks."
"What about that hill with the deployed cavalry?" Samil lifted his chin to point at the hill across the field.
"That seems to be the weakest point of Sulach's deployment, Faithful Lord. The cavalry there is guarding the main force's right flank. Yet our cavalry is outnumbering them by three to one. Once the main infantries engage we can send our cavalry and break them easily, and then we will have the enemy's right flank. From there on, it will be a matter of minutes before they will be broken."
Samil nodded once more: "Sounds straightforward enough."
The captain nodded sharply at Samil's approval.
"Unfortunately," Samil began again, "this is the plan our enemy expect us to go through. I do not believe Sulach would make such an easy mistake. That hill," Samil's finger was pointing directly at the hill where Sulach deployed his cavalry, "must be an illusion" he concluded.
Lesk voiced his confusion: "Faithful Lord, they are tired and probably out of supplies. Such a mistake is not too out of place."
Samil, however, was determined: "Sulach has never lost a battle to this day. No matter how reasonable it seems, he would not overlook such a mistake." He turned to the Lieutenant Enlyl, standing close on her warbeetle, "Lieutenant, divide the cavalry in two groups. First group should be nearly the same size of Sulach's riders. Second group should stay behind and standby for further orders." As the female officer nodded affirmatively and rode back to carry the Faithful's orders, Samil turned back to Lesk:
"Captain, draw the Lyksaen warriors out of the infantry. I want them standing here with me."
Captain Lesk felt it futile to argue his point any further, but he could not let his worries slide: "Faithful Lord, if we divide the cavalry, we will not have a fast and crushing victory over the flanks, it will drag on and it will gi--"
Samil cut him off.
"My orders were clear?" he demanded.
Captain straightened up, dropping a fast, affirmative nod: "Yes, Faithful Lord."
"See them carried out." Samil snapped.
Clad in crimson and grey of the House Lyksae, the elite warband arrived shortly beside Samil.
"Orders, Faithful?" The commander asked after saluting Samil. Samil dropped the faintest of the nods, his eyes scanning the Allanaki ranks:
"Standby here, Mtakr, we are waiting for your assignment to show itself."
The commander did not understand, but that wasn't important. He had his orders, and he simply nodded once more and grew silent behind Samil.
Time dragged on, seemingly taking no notice of the excitement and tension prevalent in the air. The first hour of dawn ended unceremoniously.
Sulach laid no other traps, Samil noted; at least, none other that showed themselves yet. He looked over the remnants of the ancient civilization once more, almost wistfully. The time for the battle had come, and he signaled for the attack.
The war horns of the Tuluki force signaled the march of the main infantry and the archers, and the wave of red on white started its march at once. Allanaki horns responded with their own signal the both armies were marching against each other. Another set of signals and the archers in both parties came to a stop; their arrows bringing death upon the approaching enemy.
Shields were pulled up, forming a roof on both sides. The soldiers who fell to the raining arrows were quickly being replaced by another from behind, the pace never slowing down. When the distance between the two forces was close enough, the armies kicked into a charge, clashing on each other in a brutal frenzy.
Swords and axes were swung, the spears were hurled, clubs crushed armors, sending bits of chitin and obsidian among the commotion. Blood and gore on both sides spilled to the ground, turning the sands to a slick, reddish mud. The cries of pain were lost in the calls to the God-kings. The Tuluki force locked their shields in their traditional style, forming a wall in the front ranks and swinging their weapons from above and below the shields as opportunity presented itself. Allanaki army replied with spreading in the front rank and assaulting in a flurry of blows with both hands to keep the enemy overwhelmed, while the second rank sprinted forth with spears every now and then searching for enemy weakness.
Samil watched the spectacle from his mount. Both armies were wearing each other down, losing man after man in bloodied frenzy. They could go on for hours, to the last man perhaps, and then neither army would have won. Samil knew as well as Sulach did, whoever won on the flanks would turn the scales of the battle. He turned over his shoulder and signaled for the first group of riders to march forth; the riders raised a dust cloud as they galloped down the hill.
"Damn it! He saw our move!" spoke Sulach as he saw only a small group of riders galloping across the battlefield.
"Should we abort the plan, my Lord?" Strian asked from his side.
"No." he spoke, his hands holding the reins tightly. "We play his game."
They watched as the Tuluki cavalry rode down the hill, leaving a billowing dust cloud behind them. Their formation shifted at the bottom of the hill, spreading to the sides as they closed in, but Allanaki cavalry waited for them in muted stillness.
Suddenly, the ground moaned and writhed violently beneath the approaching enemy. Buckling and shattering with a deafening roar, a web of cracks shot across the ground; sinking the riders into a maelstrom of tumultuous, whipping sand and dirt. The beasts cried in their own miserable fear, jerking and kicking, throwing their riders in blind frenzy.
A shout echoed through the Allanaki cavalry then, and they kicked into a charge toward the scattered Tuluki riders.
"So.. that was Sulach's plan" whispered Samil as he watched the battle.
The Allanaki cavalry easily broke into the Tuluki ranks, their spears bringing death to the confused enemy as they tried to regain their battle stance. They put up very little resistance as the lines of riders trampled through their broken ranks.
"There is the abomination" Samil pointed as a lone figure stepped out from the opposite end of the dust cloud. The earthquake was over, and the figure stood at the skirts of the hill, watching as the Allanaki cavalry led their attack on the broken riders. The lone figure then looked across to battlefield to where Samil and his officers stood.
"Mtakr?" Samil called to the leader of the Lyksaen warriors who looked back directly at him in response. "Take him down." Samil ordered, and the captain of the elite warriors nodded indifferently. Turning to his group he quickly snapped his orders and the twenty men clad in crimson and grey kicked their mounts into a charge down the hill. Samil's lips broke into a smile as he watched the Lyksaen warriors charging fearlessly toward the mage, the abomination of the nature.
They fired their arrows on the run without slowing down. It was display of skill and accuracy as the arrows flew up into the crimson skies and rained down without any of them going astray. The mage saw the charging riders and the rain of death they set loose from their bows, and he kicked into a run. A blur of movement it was, a speed truly beyond the perception of men, causing the sand to rise up in a spray of gold behind him. His chasers did not seem to be surprised by such a display of power. At once, they broke into three groups, spreading behind the mage as they swept the sands behind him.
"It does not look like they will be able to kill him" spoke Captain Lesk beside Samil.
"No, I did not think they would" Samil responded calmly as he tore his gaze back to the hill where Allanaki riders engaged his own. The skirmish was nearly over with few losses from the enemy ranks.
"But I knew they would scare him away, and they did. Now I have the flank." With that, Samil gave the order and the Tuluki warhorns signaled the march of the second group of riders.
Sulach's heart sank as he heard the blast of the Tuluki warhorn, and he watched as a dust cloud rise from the opposing hill as the white and the red cloaks rode down. The mage that would guard the flank was long gone, and Sulach knew the numbers of the approaching enemy would quickly cripple his cavalry. "Sound the retreat" he called, his eyes not leaving the enemy riders.
"My Lord.." Strian attempted to protest. They had been winning so far. Perhaps they could break the approaching enemy? Perhaps, if they sent the half giants along with the riders..?
"We cannot win this war! And if we do not retreat now, we will definitely lose!" Sulach spoke, turning to regard Strian who seemed to start his disagreement. "Sound the retreat, soldier! NOW!" Sulach finished any further discussion, giving no option to Strian. Strian carried the order and the Allanaki warhorns were blown with the exact given note.
"What?! Another charge?!" Samil did not hide his surprise at the sound of enemy warhorns. "Captain, was there any report of enemy reinforcements?"
Captain Lesk was as surprised as Samil:
"No Faithful. Perhaps the enemy eluded us."
"Damn it!" Samil cursed. "Call the riders back here. Get the Lyksaen Warriors to drop the chase on the mage and find where this reinforcement is coming from! Now!"
Weapons painted red with blood, the Allanaki infantry disengaged from the melee and stepped a few paces back facing their opponent, but their opponent was not ordered to press forth. The Tuluki riders stopped their charge and headed back to the hills. For a moment there the entire battle seemed to cease, everyone waiting for the unexpected unit to show up.
The infantry of Allanak kept moving back as they still faced the Tuluki army, and the archery units moved to the front ranks. Samil watched in confusion what Sulach was trying to achieve. From the looks of it, the reinforcements would come from the left rank, which would be attacking his half giants and infantry at the same time. It made no sense, unless the reinforcement was nearly as big as the main army which would mean bad news for Samil, he thought grimly.
We see no sign of reinforcements sir, came the thoughts of the Lyksaen commander, and Samil understood Sulach's motives at once:
"Sound the charge!" he shouted. "No reinforcement is coming, they are retreating! Sound the charge!"
Horns were blown at once and the Tuluki front advanced. Allanak responded with a signal to the archers and volleys of arrows rained upon the approaching the enemy. Commanders snapped orders and the Tuluki infantry raised their shields, their pace slowing as they advanced defensively.
"He is running away. He tricked us by changing the horn signals, and now he is running away! Bastards!" Samil spoke grimly. It was a daring attempt to change the signals before the battle, for it carried the risk of causing confusion among the officers. In the heat of the battle, the soldiers would react to the horns almost instinctively. Such instincts would not be adapted overnight. However Sulach had the advantage of having experienced army. All of Sulach's commanders and even some of his regular grunts were battle-hardened veterans from gith campaigns. It surely made a difference in applying risky maneuvers such as the trick with the battle-horns.
Samil watched as his army desperately tried to catch the retreating Allanaki front. While being under a constant rain of arrows, it seemed impossible. The retreat of the enemy must be stopped, and his army needed help with it.
"Ivory guards, rally to me!" Samil shouted to his personal white-clad cavalry, and they responded with a single warcry that echoed across the battlefield. Captain Lesk understood at once what Samil was doing and he grabbed Samil's reins, unaware of his daring approach:
"Faithful Lord, no! You cannot ride to the front, it is too dangerous."
Samil regarded him with a cold gaze and pulled his reins free of the captain's grasp:
"After my infantry catches the enemy, order the cavalry to take the right flank and send forth the half giants" he spoke, not willing to waste anymore time by explaining himself.
"Faithful Lord, you do not have to do this" Lesk pleaded, but Samil cut him off with a dismissive gesture of his hand:
“You have orders, Captain. Carry them.”
Lesk realized there was no way to talk his commander out of it, and he lowered his head in defeat. Samil nodded once and then he ordered the charge.
"He has seen our move again!" Sulach spoke in frustration.
"He can not defeat the main infantry with a cavalry charge my Lord" replied Itina beside him.
"Defeating the infantry is not his plan, he wants to keep them in battle so his own infantry can catch them." He turned to the black clad elite riders spread to his left:
"
The entire unit of the War Ministry's elite guards let out a battle cry that overcame all other sounds in the field. Itina could not believe what she was seeing:
"My Lord, no! Let me lead the charge, you need to –"
Sulach shook his head, he had already made up his mind: "Samil has to be put down. I think I have the highest chance to do that task. The rest of you stay behind. This army needs to retreat. The closer you are to the front the harder it is." Then he gave the order to charge, and the black wave of the temple guards thundered down the hill.
Samil saw the black riders led by Sulach, and he changed course. His unit wheeled around to follow Samil's lead. The black against the white they rode; the sands sprawled up as high as men, leaving trails of dust clouds. The ground trembled beneath their powerful stomp as they charged, and the warcries of "For the Highlord" and "For the Sun-King" mixed in the battlefield.
Samil saw Sulach at the front, charging directly at him. His hand was up in the air, and when he was close he could hear him chanting: "In the name of the Highlord…"
Samil closed his eyes and concentrated. All other sounds died around him: Sun-King guide my hand, be my eyes. Guide my hand, guide my blade. Guide my hand...
Samil was praying still when flames erupted from Sulach's hand and lept toward him, engulfing him completely. For a second there everything in the battlefield seemed to cease its move.
Guide my hand..
Guide my blade..
Be my Eyes…
Sun King…
Guide my hand…
Like a demon, Samil emerged from the flames. His flesh was burned beyond recognition, skin darkened and cracked in veins giving him an horrific visage. It was a miracle he was still alive, and yet he seemed not slowed down by his burns. With a swing of his bladed staff, he jabbed at Sulach's armored chest and sent him toppling down from his horse. In a smooth motion, he jumped down from his mount and landed right behind Sulach, as he was calling on his God-king for another spell. Samil's fingers flashed forth with an unbelievable speed and landed several quick strikes around Sulach's neck and throat with surgical precision. Sulach attempted to call the name of the Highlord, but no voice came out of his throat. Instead, he stumbled back, barely avoiding Samil's bladed staff. He attempted to draw a sword, but a single swing of Samil's staff sent it flying away, and a kick on his armored chest sent him sprawling back.
Two of the temple guards charged at Samil, desperate to save Sulach from what was coming for him. They were the elite guards of the War Ministry, who had been instructed by the
But then, he fell down.
The Highlord's flames had long consumed all the life that kept him going. Whatever energy was left within that kept him still standing, was finally spent. Like an ancient tree whose roots gave away their grasp of the earth, he collapsed down on his back.
Sulach was spent when Samil stole his voice. The magickal energies gathered inside of him needed to be set loose, but his voice betrayed him and the energy was unleashed on Sulach instead. He was lying down on his back now on the verge of consciousness. He realized Samil's fall but it did not matter. It was over, the enemy infantry was here. He heard his soldiers calling his name as they run to save him, but he tried not to feel hope; it was too painful. His soldiers would fight on, desperate to save him. Against the enemy numbers they would lose, and with Tuluki riders winning easily on the flanks they would be broken before the enemy. Death would come soon for them all.
Drawing all his strength, he attempted to shout them to run but whatever Samil had done to him his voice was gone completely. His own weakness overcame finally, and Sulach drifted into the peaceful embrace of the unconsciousness.
"No!" Tild yelled from the top of his mount as he watched the battle. Despair welled up in his throat as he saw Sulach fell in the front rank. Sulach beaten? Sulach down? How was it even possible?
"Mage do something!" he called to the gemmed mage who was back behind the lines after the Lyksaen warriors dropped their chase on him.
"Like what?" the mage replied, baffled at what to say to the enraged warrior.
Tild's hand snapped forth and grabbed the mage by the throat: "I don't care! Do something!" he breathed down his anger, unaware of his daring move against one of the most feared beings in the world, but the mage did not seem impressed by his shear rage.
Tild released the mage's throat then, and looked back down in the battlefield. He was relieved slightly to see the enemy templar down as well, and then he saw as the infantries on both fronts rushing forth blindly to save their templars. The two armies clashed once more, covering their leaders in the conflict.
"I can make a wall to separate the front lines" the mage spoke making Tild look back at him with wild eyes, but before he could say anything: "But not from this distance. I need to be very close, right at the spot where the wall should be put. And if I go down there, I will be chopped to pieces before I can finish the spell" the mage added.
Tild gritted his teeth as he looked back to the battlefield. He could not help but get frustrated at being helpless. The enemy war horns sounded the march of the cavalry once more now, and soon the main infantry would be flanked, everything Sulach tried to stop would end there.
"Dragoons!" Tild called for the unit of cavalry, and then added "I need ten men to ride with me to glory!" He rode a few paces forth and turned his mount looking at the soldiers, the very same soldiers who were once under his command but now given under Itina.
The front rank of the riders stepped forth and dropped a sharp nod at him, and he nodded back. Turning to the mage: "We will give you the space you need" he said.
He turned to his side to see Itina beside him:
"I am coming too" she said. Tild furrowed his brows, but she continued: "I am your superior, Tild. I give the orders, and I am telling you now, I am coming."
Tild nodded several times, then his eyes swept back to the front lines:
"There is one problem though" he said finally.
"What prob – " Itina started, but she could not finish it. Tild's punch caught her off guard, and his uppercut sent her down from her mount. The world seemed to spin around in a wild fury as she tried to regain her balance when she heard Tild's voice again:
"You are not coming".
They rode down in a wild charge then, crying out Sulach's name over and over. There were eleven of them only, but their voices overcame even the strongest of the battle cries. With all the speed and the momentum of their mounts, they drove their spears into the thickest part of the enemy, and they pushed them back; away from the front lines, away from the precious Lord Templar.
"MAGE NOW!" shouted Tild from the enemy ranks, and the earth started to tremble and groan as the gemmed uttered the words of power. The ground rose with a deafening roar, spraying down the sands on the confused soldiers.
Too bad I never got to ride that rack of yours, came as Tild's last thoughts telepathically to Itina before the sand wall separated the armies completely.
See you in the drov.
Tears welled up in Itina's eyes, threatening to humiliate her in front of her soldiers. She tried to swallow her agony; for there was much to be done yet. Already the mage was running along the wall in his incredible speed to expand it further, making it harder for the enemy to circle around. Itina knew she had to find Strian and organize the retreat. It would not be over until they were away from the enemy's reach.
And after that…
After that she could grieve. She could cry over her comrade and get angry why he was such an ass and had not let her ride with him. She could curse and blame him, herself, and anybody else there to blame. And finally, she could lose herself in grief and booze, drinking for her lost friend.
Moments later, Captain Lesk pressed his palm on the sand wall, feeling the smoothness of the surface. All the commanding officers were standing behind him. Now that Samil was down, Lesk was in charge of the army. He knew all eyes were on him, waiting for his orders. But he did not honor them by returning their gazes. They had failed the Faithful. He had failed the Faithful! Samil put his own life in line to keep the enemy in the battle, and yet they let the enemy escape. It was the work of an abomination that stopped them, but there was no excuse for incompetence.
His back still turned to the army officers:
“Set up the camp, we stay the night” Lesk spoke his orders. In truth, they were Faithful Lady Neodyn’s orders, but the officers did not need to know that.
* * * * * * * * *
CHAPTER 11
"- I heard Miranda’s mind is the best mind tonight!”
- Your Majesty, a third one!
- Wow! I have not seen this one before!”
- King of Shadows and Raven and a third one of their kind meeting in a foreign mind.
She descended from the skies and landed on the ground gently.
All around her was a display of beautiful colors and fresh smells giving a feeling of paradise to all her senses. She stood there barefooted amid the flowers, lifting her head to the skies and feeling the touches of the wind on her skin. It has been such a long time she had been in a world so beautiful, and so well organized. She could stay here for eternity, feeling the tickles of flower petals on her feet as the fingers of the wind stroke them in gentle breezes.
She shook her head, alas, she did not have time to enjoy nor explore this world. She had to leave all aside, and meet the ruler of this world.
With a simple will, she took flight. Another use of willpower, and the entire world shifted beneath her, continents of land and mass flew beneath her in the blink of an eye, and then she was where she wanted to be: Facing the ruler, her Faithful Brother Samil Lyksae.
Inside the mind was where she was powerful. Simple minds could not comprehend the extents of her abilities. She could move as she willed, explore as deep as she wanted, even modify, destroy and recreate the parts of it if she so wished. She wished to meet with the owner of this mind, and here she was facing him directly.
“Hello Faithful Brother” she greeted him in a formal way, letting him know she is here. It was more of a gesture that she is right there in front of him, not digging his mind elsewhere.
“Greetings, sister” replied Samil’s usual calm voice. In mind he seemed as much in control as he was in flesh. Neodyn has seen the minds of many, and each would be filled with wealth that they can never hope to possess: Dreams of rare tastes, sexual fantasies, of reign over people to satisfy their petty needs. Men were nasty beasts and Neodyn could see them as who they are.
Yet this was not an ordinary mind she was in right now. From the moment she dived in, all around her has been a beautiful harmony of colors and sounds enriching all her senses. None of the petty, pitiful excuses for desires of the flesh had she seen here. She was awed by her brother’s control over his mind, and felt the strokes of curiosity as to what secrets the depths of this world was holding.
“I have ordered Captain of the Legions to take command and pitch the camps. They will stay there until further orders.” Neodyn began, trying to clear her thoughts.
“Did Sulach survive?” Samil asked and Neodyn was faintly nodding at his words.
“I believe so, even though I have not seen him just yet.”
“If he survived, the abominations will bring him up to his feet quickly” the mental image of Samil muttered. Then added after a brief moment: “My Legions must keep moving. They must chase Sulach.”
“No – “ Neodyn began, but Samil cut in shortly:
“If the Legions do not move, Sulach will understand that I am wounded and the army is headless. He will strike and wear us down.”
“Physicians are certain that if you are moved, you will die. You have to be kept stable” came Neodyn’s grim reply.
Samil grew silent at that, but Neodyn noticed a slight change in the world. The wind blew differently than before, the ambient sounds gone, the beautiful scents surrounding them were no more. As if a broken note in the middle of a recite, the musical harmony of the world seemed to be disturbed in Samil’s troubled thoughts.
“So be it then” Samil spoke, but there were a thousand more words carried in the sudden shift of the wind, the sudden discord in the smells. The world was his mind, Neodyn noted, any of his thoughts or emotions would have effect on the environment. She watched the Jihaen templar silently, waiting for him to speak his mind.
“Until I get well, sister, could you come here often and let me know of my legions, and carry my orders to them?” he finally asked.
A rare, bright smile flashed in Neodyn’s lips:
“Of course I will, brother.”
“My first order for them is to find a way to get me moving somehow.”
Their talk continued for a time in the harmony of their surroundings. When finally it was over, Neodyn simply left her brother’s mind. She returned to her consciousness, her features sickly pale from the efforts of psionic drain. The food bowl the slaves left for her was still on the table, untouched. She remembered it had been days she had not eaten, and her body was growing weak. But such was the cost to train the mind for perfection.
As her hands reached for the bowl, she felt her curiosity peaking as to what secrets her brother’s mind held in secret. Was there any dirty secret behind the display of harmony on the surface? Or maybe ambitious thoughts that he never shared with anyone?
She shook her head in disbelief at what she was thinking then, her cheeks flushing red. Her hand left the bowl untouched despite the prostests of her weak body. She needed to train her mind better, obviously.
* * * * * * * *
“- That was the most foolish thing I've done...today."
- Thrend Lyksae, when his wounds are being tended after an attack.
Everything will be alright.
The light was the deep red of the late afternoon sun when he woke up. The pain was gone, so were the feeling of being burned alive. He sat up in his pallet, causing the sheets to slid down and reveal his naked torso. Everything seemed so distant, and so blurry, he could not make what he was doing in his bed, yet he felt an odd sense of serenity.
Everything will be alright.
How could it be? I-.
Shhhhhh... Don't worry. Everything will be alright.
But I remember... Terrible things.
Don't worry. It is all gone now. There is nothing to worry about.
"Are you alright, Lord Templar?"
Even Itina's voice did not sound so familiar now. Yet it brought him back to his surroundings.
"Lieutenant..? What happened?" All eyes in the command tent were on him, carrying a mixture of curiosity and worry.
"You were wounded badly, my Lord. Magicks..."
She did not have to finish it; Sulach understood it all at once. The vague memory of being on the verge of death flashed in his mind and he understood how he had no trace of those wounds right now. The healing hand of the Vivadu could mend any fresh wound instantaneously, leaving no scars for the eye to see. Yet, unseen to the eye there would be drawbacks. For the body would not understand the works of magick and would still assume the wounds exist. Such a conflict with the body and supernatural would often lead to sudden mood shifts, imaginary pains, even seizures. Making decisions would be most difficult in such a state, as the mood shifts and the unnatural pains could be maddening for a normal mind.
To neutralize it, there was another magick of course, the magick that kept whispering the soft words of serenity in Sulach's mind.
With this magick at work, all of the victim's emotions would be blocked, the mind taken control by the unnatural touch of the magick. As long as the magick was active, the victim could not feel anything different than the dominating sensation of calmness. He could walk into the fire without realizing the danger or he could withstand the drawbacks of unnatural healing from a near-death experience like right now.
"What ... Exactly happened?" he asked, and they told them everything.
They told him how Tild led the final charge with ten riders to save him, and all he could do was a brisk nod. He could not even grief at the death of his beloved soldier, and he knew there was something wrong. Magicks even blocked parts of his memory, and all he could do was to sit there impassively, listening to the reports of his officers.
"Assemble the riders, we will raid the enemy for supplies" Sulach mustered the words finally when the reports were finished.
A look of surprise rippled through the faces of the officers, but they said nothing. They had reported that there was nothing left and the soldiers have been hungry all day long. Even though it was dangerous, they had no better idea to counter Sulach's mad plan. Itina and Strian finally bowed their respects and left the command tent, the rest of the officers followed their lead shortly.
Finally Sulach was alone in the command tent. He rested against the soft pillows at his back, his eyes growing glassy. He knew he would have ten different plans and the weaknesses of each by now had there not been magicks in play. Yet, he could think of none at the moment. The magicks blocked all the sense of danger or the desire to fight, he realized he could not even think rationally. He decided that he would have to call the power of Highlord to wash away the effects of Vivadu before the battle.
Late in the night, when they attacked the enemy, Sulach knew why they had put him under the false serenity of Vivadu in the first place.
* * * * * * * * *
CHAPTER 12
“-BRING IT ON MOTHERFUCKERS I WILL SKULLFUCK YOUR CHILDREN AND LAUGH AT THEIR TEARS!”
- Vash, when facing the overwhelming odds against mantis
Captain Lesk desperately tried to rally the retreating soldiers when the attack came, but there was no fruit to his efforts. Like ghosts, Sulach's men came under the cover of darkness and caught the defenders by surprise despite the increased number of guards at post. He knew they would come again, yet he could not stop them. Ever since Samil's fall in the first battle with the enemy, Sulach have taken advantage of the headless army and grew aggressive. But Lesk managed to avoid them in the daylight up to now. By destroying a few supply carts in the first day, Lesk had a special wagon to carry the command tent of the Faithful which gave the opportunity to run away from the enemy. Only at nights, a unit of cavalry would smash from one corner of the army, send them fleeing away, raid as much as they could and disappear into the cover of the night before Lesk could mobilize the Legions and strike them back. It happened four times by now, and this was the fifth.
First time it happened, he spent his entire night in the Faithful’s tent crying like a little child, unsure of how to face the soldiers in his shame. When the morning broke though, he swallowed his shame and carried the day as if nothing happened. He was more prepared for the second night assault when they came again, but then Sulach had a different plan and still managed to catch them by surprise. It was easier to accept the defeat each time after that. Perhaps it was getting used to what he could not change, and that bothered him even more than the shame he felt. What was next, handing the army to Sulach and making excuses?
No, there was no room for cowardice, no living with the shame this time. If he dies tonight, perhaps someone better suited would be given charge to lead the army until the Faithful recovered from his wounds.
A few soldiers accompanied his bravery and he held hope that more would follow. But his hopes withered as he saw more and more of the Legions turn their backs to the enemy and flee in panic. Anger welled up in Lesk when he saw a rider of Sulach slam his spear to a fallen Tuluki soldier. He roared and broke into a charge, grabbing the soldier by the leg and pulling him down. He groaned as the soldier collapsed on top of him and took both of them down. They wrestled on the ground, blinded by the rage and the darkness that surrounded them. Lesk knew that he would probably die to the next opponent if not to this one, but it did not matter. He would take as many as he could in his fall.
“…. To me!”
Through the chaos and the cries, he heard the voice calling others. He tried to get up but his opponent held him down fast, strangling him with an iron grip. In a rekindled rage, he rolled his opponent over and came on top. With all his strength, he hammered his elbow on his opponent’s face and felt the sickening sound of breaking bones. He slammed his armored elbow again and again, until something wet splattered on his face and he felt the coppery taste of blood in his mouth.
“Rally to me!”
The voice called again and Lesk jumped to his feet from the lifeless form of his opponent. So familiar was the voice, but he tried not to grow hope. He kicked into a run, trying to reach the source of the voice before enemy lines came any closer.
“Rally to me!”
Tears blurred his vision when he saw the hunched figure leaning on his staff. The dark cover of the night made it difficult to see, but he recognized the red robe from a distance:
“Faithful is here!” he shouted and more soldiers joined him.
“Faithful is among us!”
“Protect the Faithful Lord!”
More and more soldiers rushed in and formed ranks in front of Samil and Lesk was among them, too overwhelmed to give any orders.
“Legions of the Sun King, form fours! First two rows step forth! Melee formation! Engage the enemy!” Samil’s rich voice snapped the orders.
Within seconds, the tide of the battle changed. The Allanakki riders kept smashing into the locked shields of Tuluk and were sent back again and again. It was a night assault and speed and stealth were the key factors for Sulach’s men. They were not there to hold forms and fight the enemy, they were there to hit them in sudden and send them scattered. Wearing no armor that would break their stealth and with the Tuluki lines stand like a wall in front of them, they had no chance. More Tuluki soldiers came to Samil’s call and the outcome of the battle became evident.
Sulach stared into the Tuluki lines from the top of his horse. He had seen Samil in the dim torchlight and known him even at a distance. His red cloak had swirled around him in the wind and it had been easy to picture the man’s brutal visage when he faced him in the battle. So strange it was that the mere appearance of Samil made such a huge change in the course of the battle. Such a loyalty he commanded in the Tuluki army and Sulach did not like the sound of it.
There was moment when Sulach felt Samil looking directly at him, and shivered. The wounds from his battle with Samil still troubled him when he was not under the effects of magick, despite the considerable time it passed. Time would cure them Sulach knew, but the memory would remain. Despite looking old and weak, Samil was not the kind of man he wanted to meet in battle again. He recognized his fear for him but there was no shame in being afraid. Even though he would have to retreat that night, he would win the war. Tonight’s battle did not mean much after all, not for Sulach. He had already raided the enemy supplies enough to sustain his army for more than a week’s time ahead, what he had been doing over the last two nights’ assaults was to break the enemy’s morale. By showing them defeat every night, he was crushing their resolve. After all, winning a fight did not take to kill every single soldier, but to take away their will to fight. And Sulach realized as he watched Samil’s effect on his soldiers, that to take away the enemy’s will to fight, he had to eliminate Samil.
Sulach had to retreat that night and Samil did not pursue.
* * * * * * * *
“He has accepted his fate, and so must I. It is better to live a short time within His Radiance than a lifetime away from His Light.”
- Elithan Winrothol, before an execution
Late in the same night, Captain Lesk and Samil were alone in the command tent. The stale air carried a visible tension as Samil sat on his pallet wordlessly for what Lesk felt like ages long.
“What happened to my Legions, Captain?” spoke Samil at last. His voice was weaker than how it was in the battlefield, and so was his posture. When alone, the effects of his wounds were much visible in the candle light.
“Faithful Lord, I –“ Captain started as he stood, but then he stopped to clear his voice and his mind.
“Sir, it is my mistake. There is no excuse for it, perhaps I am not fit for the command” he spoke clearly. Relieved that he finally could muster the words, but Samil was not listening.
“They ran like cowards,” Samil spoke, more to himself and the empty air than to the Captain standing in attendance. Lesk could only bow his head in shame.
“I ordered them to drop their banner after the fight was over. Sulach already has their honor, he could as well take their banner” Samil continued, and Lesk felt his cheeks flush. So humiliating to leave the banner, it could very well mean that Samil did not care whether or not those units were all completely dead and gone.
“Sir, I would take any punishment for my incompetence” Lesk spoke, his head bowed low. He did not dare to look at the Faithful in the eye, fearing that his legs would give away their strength at humiliation.
“Raise your head, Captain!” Samil’s voice was sharp enough to make Lesk obey at once.
“There will be punishment of course. And yours is not so easy to step aside from the command.” Samil went on. His next words explained how the cowards would be punished, and Lesk’s face went pale as he listened.
Lesk stood with all the commanding officers in the dim light of Lirathu, the soldiers of the Second Battalion disarmed and lined up in front of their tents. All the voices of the camp died when the Second Battalion was called out of their beds.
“Begin” Lesk gave the order; his voice was cold as the desert night.
Two sergeants moved forward, but the third shook visibly, exchanging glances between his men and Captain Lesk:
“Sir… But they are our soldiers. It is not right” he spoke weakly.
“Stand still!” Lesk snapped, “Lieutenant, come to me!”
Sergeant shook his head in terror as he saw his lieutenant approaching to Lesk:
“I am sorry sir, I only meant…”
But Lesk was not listening to him:
“Lieutenant, this man disobeyed my orders. He will join the selected.” Lesk spoke clearly for everyone in attendance to hear.
The sergeant attempted to protest but the lieutenant struck his gauntleted fist down on him before he could add anymore shame he had brought to his command. Two more of his crushing punches and the dazed sergeant fell on his knees. They disarmed him quickly and dragged him away from the line of soldiers.
The rest of the draft went uneventful, sergeants counted the men and one out of every five was drawn out. When counting the men in Second Battalion was done, the selected was dragged away and the rest were sent back inside. Though, the night did not pass easily for anyone. Those who were left behind knew they would never see again the ones taken away. And they were shaking in terror when the commanding officers returned, calling another Battalion out of their tents.
It carried on all night long.
* * * * * * * *
CHAPTER 13
“- It is easy to grow hope, warrior, when your lover is in your arms, with your booze leaving the bitter taste and the smoke of your spice filling your lungs. It is easy to grow hope when your stomach is full and your tongue wet. It is easy to grow hope when you face your opponent in your battle and you stand strong. But when you miss your lover’s good bye kiss and there is nothing to wash it down; when hunger craves your insides and your mouth runs dry; when your sword breaks down and your opponent gashes open your brows, does your hope die warrior?
No, that is when you are truly alive.”
- Gin of the Alleys, and Ough the mul.
Lesk dropped on his haunches in front of Samil’s tent by the end of the night, Allanakki and the Tuluki bloods mingled in his armor. There was less than an hour of time left when they were finished executing the men, and he felt all his strength was finally leaving him. He dropped on the ground, trying to clear up the events of the night from his mind. From all the units who fled before Sulach in the night assaults, they picked one out of every five soldier.
And then they killed them. As a ranking officer he had killed many before. But killing another Tuluki soldier, and more importantly the way they killed them would haunt him for a long time.
Each battalion’s selected group was brought separately, disarmed and unarmored so that if a group attempts to resist, there would not be any complications. Then all the officers of the Legions attacked them unarmed, punching and kicking until they all died. Killing them without the use of any weapons in such a way took longer, cries and painful pleads of the dying men carried on for a long time. One of the men even said “I am sorry” and started to cry like a child before the officers launched on them. Each group was drawn away like this one by one. After the second group, the officers were all speechless in horror, and they worked in silence until the end. It ended about an hour to the day break, and Lesk sent them all to get some rest before dawn. They would not be able to sleep, he thought as much, but just like him they needed sometime alone.
Lesk dug his hands into the ground and clawed the desert sands in his silent weeping. It was coldest in the desert right before the sunrise, but he felt none of it. Tears were burning his eyes and he felt a weight down his throat that he could not swallow. This is what it takes to lead, he thought to himself.
He sat there in front of Samil’s tent, unsure of the time that passed. Approaching steps made him jump to his feet and he stood in attendance as the Faithful opened the flap of the tent and walked out to the morning sun. He stood before Lesk, eyeing him against the crimson dawn expectantly. But there was no strength left in Lesk to greet the Faithful properly. He bit his lower lip to stop them from quivering and looked straight past the Faithful, unable to meet him in the eye. He expected to be struck down for his weakness and steadied himself for the blow, but it did not come. Instead Samil patted him on the shoulder in a gesture of understanding and Lesk tried hard not to collapse at his feet.
The camp started to come alive with the waking soldiers and Lesk straightened in his posture, reminding himself that he is still the Captain of the Legions. There was no room for a show of weakness he reminded to himself and joined among the soldiers to break the camp.
Before the hour past, all the soldiers were brought to attendance and Samil rode in front of them, staring them down from atop his horse.
“Sun King’s Legions! My warriors!” he shouted and his gaze wandered through the ranks of soldiers. The legionnaires disgraced him. They knew it, and kept their heads bowed in private misery. Even their ranks seemed chaotic as each one found their among others without looking at the rank formations.
“Last night was the closest thing to disaster that I have ever seen. I have never seen a Legion turn their back to the enemy and leave their commanders in the field. Never before, a soldier ran past me when I called them to form ranks before me!”
From the top of his mount he could see all of the gathered soldiers. They stared down without daring to look at him, but he saw some of them shaking with humiliation as if he were a father lecturing repentant children. He shook his head and stared ahead for a time:
“Legions! The enemy we are facing is not a group of halfling. It is not a band of marauders hunting down helpless tribals! No! The enemy we have now is the worst ever seen! They have never seen the face of defeat before! And we knew this before we took our ride from the Ivory.”
“We knew what we were against before we left our beloved walls” he shouted, riding his horse up and down in front of the ranks. “I tell you now my warriors, if there is anyone who believes that we can not beat this enemy, I ask them to step forth!”
All heads were suddenly lifted up; all the soldiers looked at Samil directly. The traces of shame seemed to vanish as they gazed up at him.
“I ask anyone who believes that this enemy can not be beaten, to step forth!" Samil repeated louder. "They will be given the month’s payment and the next, and they will be sent back to the city!” Samil shouted and his gaze wandered on each soldier as he stood.
“I do not want a soldier in my ranks who do not believe in their comrades! There are thousands and thousands of soldiers among the Legions. But you are the ones that I chose to march with me!” He shouted and a cheer started to light in the eyes of the Legions.
“What an honor we are chosen to fight the greatest enemy of all!” Samil’s finger was pointing toward where Sulach’s men retreated a night before as he spoke: “That we are given the chance to achieve the greatest valor in the Sun King’s ranks!
“Soldiers!“ his voice dropped low as he regarded them all. “Some of the battalions that were yesterday are no more. I can not give back your history, but I can offer you a new start. Today we start a new day. As you will be briefed, the members of the disbanded Legions will join the ranks of the others. Legions! Do not hold your brothers and sisters with shame! We will not remember those running from the enemy, but we will remember them holding ranks as I called them to rally to me! Remember that they are your brothers in arm now! We left Legion banners last night! When we next meet them in battle, we will fight to get their banners and your honor with them!” The soldiers seemed to straighten their postures as Samil spoke, some of them lifted their heads high, a new light of determination in their eyes.
“Look around you now. Look at the faces of the men and women around you! Remember those faces, for there will come a day when you will tell tales of your fight against the Witch Templar Sulach, and you will tell who else was with you in that glorious battle!”
“Soldiers, we are all professionals. Shall we cut these amateur bastards to pieces?”
A loud cheer erupted from the ranks of the soldiers, swords and shields were clashed together and their mouths bellowed in applaud. Samil’s heart lifted with pride.
The camp was broken and they marched away in the morning sun.
CHAPTER 10
“As mortals, we have a barrier
in the level of power we can wield. No
matter what we try, with magick or psionics or by completely mundane means,
sooner or later we will hit the wall and there is no trivial way to pass this
wall. For perhaps this is a...
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