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The Lords of Areon (The Chronicles of Areon Book 3) Page 9
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With the exception of the unfortunate soul who had been shot twice, the soldiers instantly obeyed, the group flying in five different directions with a speed that defied pursuit. The remaining mercenary wheeled in the saddle for a moment before tumbling to the ground. Seconds later, Darian was at his side. He ripped the shafts from the man's body and asked the Eilian to heal his prisoner. The divine power flowed through the young knight, instantly sealing his former adversary’s wounds.
“Daegon seems to be taking his time,” Kilren observed, as he climbed from his mount to recover his weapon.
“Taking his time doing what?” Ian asked, pocketing his flute.
“Well, I don't know that's he's leading them,” the lieutenant admitted, “but whoever is, is taking their time.”
“What are you talking about?” the bard asked with a smile.
“The reinforcements,” Kilren replied. “I mean; I guess they're reinforcements.”
“Oh, them,” the dwarf laughed, pulling the instrument once again from his coat and holding it out for the young man's inspection. “Here they are. I'll think you'll agree, they arrived right on time.”
“I guess they did,” the lieutenant laughed. “That was rather brilliant.”
“Thank you,” Ian said, bowing his head slightly. “I thought it might help hurry them on their way.”
“It seems that it did,” Kilren nodded. “Now, we need to hurry us on our way.”
“I couldn't agree more,” the bard replied.
After the prisoner had given his word that he wouldn't try to escape, he was allowed to climb back atop his horse and the party continued their journey toward the fortress. In less than half an hour, they reached their destination. They quickly made their way into the hall to inform Lord Andor of their discoveries. Within minutes of this revelation, a messenger was riding toward Innalas with all the speed his mount could muster and a council of war had been called.
“If I were King Palnar,” Tealor began, “I would certainly attempt to capture this fortress before I invaded Innalas. It would have been pointless to risk men trying to take it when it was nothing more than an outpost on the edge of his kingdom, but that's not the case now. This is the nearest stronghold to the fords and it would serve as a perfect staging ground for his troops. It would also be an excellent place to stockpile food and, if things went badly, it could serve as the first line of defense against an invasion from Innalas.”
“I completely agree,” Daegon nodded. “Its strategic value is hard to overestimate if King Palnar is, in fact, planning an invasion.”
“Oh, he is,” Kilren asserted. “You can be sure of that. If they're planning to attack us first, then we'd better start getting ready.”
“We already are,” Daegon assured him, “I'm just not sure to what extent we should take our preparations.”
“What do you mean?” the lieutenant asked. “We need to be as prepared as possible!”
“We have crops growing,” the captain replied. “Should we burn them so that, should the fortress fall, they'll be of no use to Mikral?”
“Alright,” Kilren nodded. “I see what you mean.”
“Bring in the prisoner,” Lord Andor said to one of the guards currently filling the hall.
The young man was brought in and offered a seat beside the aged lord, which he refused.
“What is your name?” the old man asked.
“What difference does it make?”
“I find that referring to one another by name,” Lord Andor smiled, “makes conversation more pleasant.”
“Onnic,” the young man said.
“A fine name, Onnic. Due to my age, and the rank which the king of Solarin was good enough to bestow upon me, you may address me as Lord Andor.”
“As you wish, sir.”
“Why were you on my lands?”
“To the best of my knowledge, sir, I wasn't.”
“Very well,” the old man chuckled. “What brings you to the area, then?”
“I don't know, sir. I'm not an officer.”
For several seconds, Lord Andor locked his bright blue eyes on those of his prisoner.
“There's no need, or point, in lying to me,” he said with a wide smile. “You may not be an officer, as you say, but you certainly know what you and your companions were doing on these lands.”
The young man remained silent.
“I appreciate your loyalty, but it's misplaced. Still, that's something you'll have to learn in your own time and in your own way. Take him to a cell and see that he's well fed and comfortable.”
“At once, my lord,” one of the guards replied, taking the prisoner by the arm and leading him from the chamber.
“I think we can safely assume,” Lord Andor said as soon as they were gone, “that Valrak's men weren't simply sightseeing. Although we can't be certain they intend to besiege us, I believe we have to act as if they were.”
“I agree,” Sarena nodded. “I think we should evacuate the women and children immediately and escort them into Innalas. I'm certain King Illfas will be more than willing to offer them his protection.”
“I'm sure you're right,” Daegon nodded. “As soon as they're safely on their way, we can seal the fortress and ready our defenses.”
“I'll lead the men on the walls,” Tealor began, “while you...”
“I'm afraid not, my love,” his wife interjected with a smile. “I feel certain that Lord Andor will want you to lead the escort yourself.”
“Yes, in truth...” the aged lord began.
“Lord Andor is going to need me here,” Tealor interrupted. “I understand why you can't stay, my heart, and I hate to be separated from you, but I can't...”
“Yes, you can, my champion,” she replied, shaking her head. “It's my duty to protect the life of our unborn child. It's your duty to protect me, and keep yourself alive until they're grown. So, for the next fifteen or twenty years, I'm going to have to ask you not to needlessly risk your life.”
“It's not needless, my dear, Lord Andor...”
“Can speak for himself,” the old man interrupted with a smile. “Someone has to lead the escort, Captain Tealor. Who should it be? Me? Captain Daegon? No, my worthy warrior, this is your duty. I'm certain that, if you consider it carefully, you'll find that you agree with me.”
“I suppose I do,” he admitted, “but I hate to abandon the garrison at a time like this.”
“You won't be,” Daegon replied, slapping him on the shoulder. “You'll be doing your duty, just like this rest of us.”
“There's little time to lose, dearest,” Sarena said, rising as she spoke. “I think you and I had better begin the evacuation.”
“As always, beloved, you're right,” the warrior said with a sigh. “We'll be on our way as quickly as possible, Lord Andor. How many men do you want me to take?”
“I believe ten will be sufficient.”
“Very well, my lord,” the captain said with a bow before making his way from the chamber at the side of his wife.
Just minutes after the couple departed, the council of war was concluded. Darian and his companions were ordered, as soon as they had said their farewells, to eat dinner and make their way to bed. They had traveled many miles on little sleep and would need to be well rested before their enemies arrived. Lord Andor had less than a hundred men to hold a stronghold against an invading army. It was critical that all of them be well rested before the battle began.
The young knight made his way directly to the cottage of his mother and father, escorted by Gwendolyn. They wished his parents, along with his brother and sister, a fond farewell before helping his father load several larger items on a cart he had hitched up for the purpose. Garik was extremely indignant about their father's decision not to allow him to stay and help defend the fortress. Neither sulking nor argument availed him, however. When the father climbed aboard the wagon, the younger son was compelled to do the same. With tear filled eyes, Celia begged her older son to be as
careful as he could be and to make sure that he was alive and well the next time they saw him. He assured her that he would be.
This attended to, the pair made their way to the house that Gwendolyn's parents were currently living in. The couple had assumed that the maiden would be ordered to evacuate with them, but such was not the case. The companions explained, through her father's sighs and her mother and Nanna's tears, that Lord Andor hoped they would allow her to stay. At first, Faelor seemed determined to refuse, and he and his wife went to speak to Lord Andor themselves. When they returned, they appeared a great deal more calm, if not more happy. They decided to allow their daughter to make up her own mind and hugged her tenderly goodbye. They warned her that if she didn't keep herself safe they would never forgive her.
Having taken care of these duties, the couple made their way back to the hall where dinner had been prepared for them. They had both been exhausted before they had gone through the rather emotionally draining experience of seeing their parents off. By the time they reached the table, they were practically asleep on their feet.
The food was good. At least, Darian thought it had to be. The wine was probably good, too. Lord Andor was a generous master and they had just completed what proved to be a rather dangerous mission. They had given every ounce of energy they had to doing their duty. So, obviously, Lord Andor would want to reward them with the best he could offer. In fact, the young knight was absolutely certain that the fare was truly excellent. Unfortunately, he couldn't taste it. He gazed down at his plate with the vague idea that it was his favorite meal. It was a pity that he couldn't remember what he considered his favorite meal and that, at the moment, he couldn't tell what it was just by looking at it. He would have to ask Lord Andor about it in the morning.
As his eyes wandered around the table, it was clear that most of his friends were similarly afflicted. Kilren kept blinking and shaking his head, Erana was moving things around on her plate and was slouched so far down in her chair that he could hardly see her face, and Gwendolyn had laid her head on the table and appeared to be asleep. As far as the knight could tell, however, Ian was fine. He was eating soup, drinking wine, laughing, and even appeared to be talking to someone.
“Don't you agree?” the dwarf asked, gazing at the knight with a wide smile.
“I'm sorry, Ian,” the Telian replied. “What?”
“I was saying that I think the rest of you may as well go to bed. I believe you've eaten what you're going to eat tonight.”
“I think you're right,” Darian nodded, turning his attention to the maiden at his side. “Gwendolyn... Gwendolyn...”
She didn't react.
“My lady,” he said, shaking her gently by the shoulder.
“Hmmm,” she replied, half-opening her eyes. “What is it?”
“We all need to go to bed.”
“Good idea,” she agreed. “Carry me.”
“Alright,” he sighed, raising himself to his feet with a stretch.
“I'm just teasing,” she replied, beginning a stretch of her own. “That wouldn't be proper. Didn't the book tell you that?”
“It did,” he nodded. “I'm too tired to care.”
“You should never be too tired to be a gentleman,” she retorted playfully.
“You're right,” he agreed, “but we can discuss it in the morning. For the moment, I'm heading to my room.”
“We all are,” Kilren said, helping his love to her feet. “Then tomorrow, we should all be able to enjoy a nice, relaxing siege.”
As weary as they were, this elicited laughter from his companions. Immediately after this humorous observation, each of the four trudged to their rooms, stumbled inside, collapsed into bed, and instantly fell asleep. The following morning, just before dawn, the young knight arose.
Having dressed and readied himself for battle, he headed for the kitchens to grab up a large piece of cold meat and a larger piece of bread before making his way atop the walls. Here, he found Daegon staring into the distance in the dim morning light. The Telian followed the captain's gaze to find a number of spacious pavilions standing on the very edge of the meadows, just beyond the tree line and well out of bow range. The standards that fluttered from them identified them as belonging to the king of Mikral and Lord Valrak. In the distance, Darian could clearly hear the whinny of horses, as well as the sound of working axes.
“They arrived just as the sun was setting last night,” Daegon said, turning his gaze to the young knight.
“How many?”
“Nearly four hundred as far as I can tell.”
“When will they attack?”
“Soon,” Daegon replied with a nod. “My guess is that they're currently cutting a battering ram. Once that's done, I can't see any reason for delay.”
“They might wait for reinforcements,” the knight suggested.
“They might,” his former tutor agreed, “but I wouldn't if I were in their place. It's obvious we knew they were coming. That being the case, they'll be certain we've already sent word to Innalas. Which, of course, we have. So, it's possible that we could get reinforcements before they do.”
“It's not likely.”
“It's not,” Daegon replied, “but if I were them I wouldn't take the chance.”
“So, what do we do?”
“There are just over a hundred of us,” the captain said. “Which is few enough against an onslaught like this. Still, we've held out against even greater odds before. The main issue is going to be keeping an eye on all the walls at the same time. The main attack will almost certainly come from the south, as that's where the gate is.”
“I agree,” the Telian nodded.
“If I were their commander, however,” Daegon continued, “I wouldn't throw all my force there. I'd attack from each direction, looking for some point of weakness to exploit. So, I think it would be wisest to place thirty of our men on the southern wall and put fifteen on each of the other three. We'll put the rest in the courtyard where they can be called on wherever they're needed most at the moment.”
“I should also be on the southern wall,” Darian asserted.
“I believe you're right. I want Kilren and Erana there, as well. They're two of our best archers.”
“They are.”
“I think it would be best to keep Gwendolyn in the courtyard alongside Lord Andor. That will keep them both out of the general fray and put them in a good position to use their particular skills.”
“I couldn't agree more,” the young knight replied with a smile. “Let's do it.”
This plan was quickly put into action and, before the sun had risen completely above the treetops, the defenders had their forces in position. For nearly an hour, they watched the enemy moving in and out of the woodlands along the edge of the meadow, making their preparations. The sound of the axes had ceased some time before and they could clearly hear the orders their commanders barked out, getting them into formation. After their enemies were assembled, a hush fell over the scene as both attackers and defenders awaited the signal that would begin the assault.
Suddenly, the sound of trumpets shattered the silence. To this was quickly added the noise of screaming men as each side yelled its defiance at the other. Ian began playing an ancient war song on his bagpipes as the attackers began marching quickly in the direction of the stronghold. Just before the foremost of these warriors came within bow range, they burst into a mad dash, breaking ranks as each attempted to close the distance that stood between them and the fortress as quickly as possible.
Almost instantly, the defenders on the walls began to fire into the midst of their foes. Several of their number fell with a cry, Kilren and Erana both taking one after another out of the battle. The Mikralian archers advanced boldly against the darts of their enemies, however, and began returning fire that was nearly as accurate and far more plentiful. Two of the defenders were struck down as countless shafts rattled off the walls or flew over the heads of their targets.
The
moment the attackers reached the walls, grappling hooks were thrown over the parapets. One of these landed mere feet from the young Telian, who instantly grabbed it, using all his strength in an attempt to rip it from the wall. It was impossible. He had no way of knowing how many men were hanging from it, but their weight was too great for the knight, even with the power of the Eilian flowing through him and several of his nearby allies doing their best to help him. He ordered his men to step back before beginning to hack the hook with all his might. With just three blows he slashed through it, sending the men hanging from it plummeting to the earth below.
This victory was short lived, however, as the little time it had taken was enough to allow several other attackers to climb over the wall at different points. The sound of yelling could be heard in the distance and it was clear that the fortress was being assaulted from every side. The men that had been left in the courtyard rushed north, east, and west, doing their best to aid the outnumbered defenders.
Three of the defenders near Ian had been surrounded by enemies pouring over the walls on both sides of them. As they fought valiantly to defend themselves, one of them momentarily exposed himself in one of the gaps in the ramparts. A bolt passed instantly through his neck, causing him to fall from the wall with a cry. The bard threw down his pipes, drew his blade, and rushed at the backs of his foes.
Two were dead before they were even aware that they were being flanked. The two that remained on that side of the surrounded defenders turned their attention to the dwarf. They lashed out at him, their swords flashing in the morning sun. He blocked one blow and then another, falling slowly back before their combined attacks. Several more of the foe climbed over the wall behind him as he fought to defend himself, effectively cutting him off from his allies.