Authors: James Wolf
Taem had thought his own worries were bad, but they paled into nothing as he saw all the terrified Aborle around him. This was the true nature of war laid bare. Taem felt the fear in his heart, but he dared not show it. And, to his surprise, the act of pretending that he was not afraid, actually made him feel less fearful.
As Taem looked around him, beyond the trembling Aborle, he saw the magnificence and tranquillity of this mystic place, and he cherished it deeply. But he grimaced as he thought of the Kruns who were coming to destroy and murder. Taem wondered what drove these creatures to despoil something so fair? So beautiful? But he knew the Krun were pure evil. And it was his Sodan duty to defy evil.
‘To arms, Aborle!’
‘Time to fight!’
‘For the forest!’
The calls came swiftly as the leaders sped through the village, rousing their troops to set. Taem noticed the second unit of Forest Guard heading off northwards into the trees, as he made his way to the eastern fringe of Leafholme amongst the lines of cloaked and armed Aborle.
The leaders marshalled the Aborle to spread out in a thin, straight line, only two rows deep – facing away from their village. The Forest Guard held the centre of the battle line, and the Aborle of Leafholme took up the flanks.
Taem moved to stand amongst the nervous Aborle bowmen and women on the right flank. He knew this part of the line would be the hardest hit. Taem looked about him and saw many frightened faces. But he also saw that they all knew there could be no going back. Their path was set. Each soldier turned to his fellows around him, clasping a hand on the others’ shoulders.
‘T-The L-Light be with you,’ an Aborle said hesitantly, as she placed a hand on Taem’s shoulder.
Taem could see in her eyes that this Aborle was petrified.
‘And with you,’ Taem nodded to the Aborle, as he watched the open forest to the east.
That same ritual was repeated many times until all were quiet, hushed in anticipation, facing the trees ahead.
Taem felt his own nerves surge up inside of him, but he managed to ignore them and remain calm, as Logan had taught him. He tried to take in every detail around him; see everything, but only absorb what was useful. Taem looked down the Aborle line and saw how the bowmen and bow-women were dressed in a variety of natural forest colours, and each had a woodland cloak enveloping their shoulders, with a quiver at their sides or strapped to their backs. The Aborle now stood in solemn silence. They all knew battle was close. Dangerously close.
Taem checked the tension on the bow he had been given, and he thrust half a dozen arrows into the ground in front of him, within easy reach.
In contrast to the Aborle of the village, Taem saw the Forest Guard all wore the same uniform. These Aborle men and women were garbed in short green cloaks and a mail shirt over a yellow jerkin. They all carried long swords at their waists, in red scabbards, and wore a rounded helmet with a nosepiece and a soaring crest. Each Forest Guard carried a long wooden shafted spear, and a large green kite shield that was emblazoned with the symbol of a great tree.
Taem could see Shandor Traylark towering in the centre of the Forest Guard’s front rank, composed and focused. The Captain was dressed similar to her soldiers except for the red jerkin she wore under her gleaming mail shirt. Shandor’s helmet also had a mohican of green hair that protruded along its crest. She was already a tall Aborle, but the helmet gave her an even greater presence. Shandor carried no shield; instead, she gripped a black shaft with a bladed spear head at each end. Taem was intrigued when he noticed the spearheads were inlaid with whirling leaf like markings.
Taem could see the calming influence the Aborle Captain exuded over her troops, and the knock on effect their confidence had on the Aborle of the village. Taem realised the line would stand or fall with Shandor Traylark. He remembered what Logan had often told him: for an army to be great, the soldiers had to respect their general.
The Aborle troops stood restless for half an hour, wondering if the Kruns had decided to go back to the pit from whence they came. No one spoke. All looked forward in expectation. Many wondered, where were the Warders? And hoped that, perhaps, they would not have to fight? Rays of sunlight shimmered down through gaps in the leaves, and no wind whispered through the forest. The army grew ever more lulled as time passed slowly by, and many wanted to sit down, but the leaders would not let them.
The Aborle were becoming too relaxed, and Taem did not like it. Many of them had got past their initial terror. Nothing had happened in so long, they had almost forgotten they were waiting for battle. But Taem knew that a little apprehension would serve them well – nerves kept you on edge, kept you alive.
The forest was quiet. Peaceful. That would be a blessing – many Aborle thought, as their thoughts wandered – if the Kruns had decided not to commit to battle. They could all go home, alive, and celebrate.
The forest’s serene calm was shattered by the loud blast of a horn. Screams erupted from deeper in the trees. The Aborle soldiers were wrenched from their sleepy reveries by that horrifying sound.
‘Spears ready!’ Captain Traylark called to her Forest Guard, as the bow-Aborle notched their first arrows.
They would have to fight after all. And the nerves had returned threefold, as many Aborle strived to still their quaking hands.
Baek crept eastwards through the forest, with his company of thirty Warders. When they were two hundred yards from the village, Baek motioned for them to spread out and take cover.
Baek crouched behind a fallen tree with Cedran, a fellow Warder with whom he often patrolled. The two of them had been friends all their lives. They had played together as children, and later joined the Warders together, taking up the duty to watch the way-paths of the Great Forest. Cautiously at first, the inquisitive squirrels and rabbits edged towards the hidden Aborle. When the animals were confident the Aborle posed no threat they continued on with the hunt for their breakfast. The Warders sat motionless for two hours as they gazed over the woodland to the east. They spoke only in whispers, and their outlines melded with the surrounding forest. They knew how to stay still. To be a Warder an Aborle had to be a skilled hunter, which took the patience to wait for the right moment to strike.
Baek realised the forest had gone quiet. The calls of the woodland birds were silent. Baek watched the creatures on the forest floor stiffen. Their ears trembled, their eyes darted to the east and their noses sniffed the air, before they dashed off to find hiding places. Baek knew the enemy were close. After half a minute of listening, Baek heard the rumble of foul voices through the still forest, and his heart thundered through his chest.
Baek slowly removed an arrow from his quiver, and notched it in his bowstring. All around him he saw hidden Aborle doing the same. Baek sensed Cedran tense up beside him, as the enemy rabble crashed towards the Warders’ position. He glimpsed movement in the trees. Larger silhouettes stomped through the undergrowth, as smaller gangly ones loped between them. Wicked howls echoed through the forest, chilling the spines of all the Aborle that heard them.
Baek began to tremble, as he realised those hulking shadows were Ugurs. The three fingers of Baek’s right hand – poised ready against his bowstring – began to shudder, and he took a calming breath to help still them. The Krun army was spread wide, and Baek could see the misshapen figures stretching far back into the forest depths.
Cedran raised the horn she carried to her mouth, looking towards Baek. But Baek shook his head. He knew the enemy needed to come closer.
Baek watched the rowdy Krun Horde close to sixty yards away. The Ugurs waited behind the Kruns, sending their weakling slaves to die first.
Baek caught sight of the Ugurs, saw how they were much larger than their Krun cousins, taller and far broader than Men. Like their Krun brethren, the Ugurs’ pale skin was putrid yellow, and they appeared ravaged by illness. But Baek knew to not underestimate these formidable monsters. Where the Kruns’ bodies were bags of shrivelled up desolate husks, the Ugurs’ skin bulged, straining to hold over-ripe muscles from bursting through. The Ugurs had monstrous lumbering skulls, ridged with bony plates. Their heads were so thick and heavy that they hung forward, slumping over their tree-trunk necks and mountainous shoulders. The Ugurs’ square lower jaws, and great yellow teeth, jutted out in a permanent scowl. Baek shuddered when he thought what these monsters would do if they got hold of him. But he told himself he had a job to do, and his home to protect.
Baek could make the shot through the trees, but he was not sure of the rest of his Warders.
We must make every arrow count
, Baek thought to himself. Just wait a little longer, let them come a little closer. His pulse thumped through his body faster than the beat of the Kruns’ drums, but he fought down the impulse to flee.
Hold still!
He urged himself, and prayed that his fellow Warders would do the same.
Baek waited until the enemy advanced to forty yards. The Krun were oblivious to the concealed Warders. He could now make out the yellow of their squinting eyes. Baek nodded to Cedran.
A booming horn blast resounded through the trees.
Baek leapt to his feet and released his arrow, as did the other hidden Warders all around him, loosing a volley of deadly shafts whistling through the forest. Baek aimed at one of the lead Kruns, who carried a red standard with the black emblem of a spiked mace crossed with a scimitar. Baek’s arrow thudded home right between the Krun’s spiteful eyes. Two dozen other Kruns crumpled under the piercing shower of arrows.
‘Run!’ Baek yelled, and the Warders turned and sped back to the village.
The Kruns looked around in bewilderment. They saw the woodland cloaks fleeing into the forest, and screamed as they started after them in a furious chase.
The howls reverberated through the trees, causing Aborle to quake in fear. Taem saw the Warders emerge from the depths of the forest, hurtling back towards the line, Baek leading them. A great cheer rose up from the Aborle ranks around the village. Ten seconds later, those spine-chilling howls took physical form as Kruns swarmed out of the forest in hot pursuit. The Krun numbers grew until there were hundreds in view. Many Aborle gaped in horror as the vicious enemies rushed towards them, screaming for blood.
A great cloudburst of arrows was loosed from the high platform above Taem’s head. Some fell short, a few hit trees, but many lanced through their targets, tearing through the Krun ranks. Taem caught a glimpse of Gerandel Malaran among the Aborle on the high village walkways, longbow in hand.
Baek and his Warders were making for the right flank, clearing space for the left flank to launch a barrage of flighted death. Forty arrows from the left flank flew high into the air, in a great arc, falling like sleet onto the Krun. The rustle of a fierce wind whipped through the trees, as high over Taem’s head another volley was loosed from the high platform, dropping many more of the enemy. Screams of pain now echoed through the besieged forest alongside the frenzied howling.
Yet still the Kruns came in row upon row – hell-bent on destruction, murder and pillage.
By now the Warder scouts had reached the right flank and formed up with the other bowmen there.
‘Draw!’ Baek shouted, standing a few yards from Taem.
Sixty bows were pulled back to the cheek. Taem drew his bow in one fluid motion, as Logan had taught him. He eyed down the shaft of the arrow, aiming at the chest of a running Krun. The enemy was close enough to shoot straight – rather than shooting at an angle to compensate for the distance.
‘Loose!’ Baek yelled.
Taem saw his target go down, as did many others in the charging Krun front line. As the frontrunners died the second wave tripped over their comrades tumbling bodies. Many of those were trampled as the Kruns and Ugurs behind scrambled over the fallen. The blood rage had overcome the charging Kruns and Ugurs. They did not any care if the fallen Krun bodies were alive, as they stomped on over their downed brethren. The main bulk of the enemy horde was bombarded with arrows from the Aborle line, and more Krun fell. The Kruns and Ugurs were wicked creatures with a malevolent yearning to destroy anything good, and this drove them on through the deadly storm of arrows. They would slaughter every Aborle in the village, and then fight each other for the loot they could steal from the tree huts.
‘Shoot at will!’ Baek cried.
Devilish howls battered Taem’s senses, dominating the whistle of flying arrows and the calls of the Aborle leaders.
The Krun frontline was barely thirty yards away – and closing – but taking heavy casualties from the onslaught of arrows. Taem put down the bow and drew his sword from his back, gripping it with both his hands. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Baek releasing arrow after arrow at a phenomenal rate. More Krun fell, pierced by Aborle arrows, but still they came surging onward. To his left, Taem heard Captain Traylark shouting for the Forest Guard to lower their spears and ready themselves for the onslaught, her clear voice ringing above the horrendous howling. The handle of Estellarum felt so comfortable. The blade felt so light. Its single edge gleamed with a bluish sheen. The sword was a part of him.
A wave of Kruns crashed down on the Aborle. Choking them; drowning them.
Taem slashed upward, stopping a charging Krun dead in its tracks. The Aborle next to him fell. Two hideous Kruns were on the forest woman, stabbing with cruel serrated knives. Taem’s vision was pummelled by a hundred flashes of motion. His ears were pierced by thunderous confusion. To Taem’s left a member of the Forest Guard had impaled one of the enemy on her spear, which she was unable to pull loose from the dead Krun, so she rushed to draw her sword. A hideous Krun vaulted at Taem. He blocked the downwards attack, parrying the enemy’s sword past his right side. He withdrew his blade and swung out, opening the Krun’s throat from right to left. Taem whipped Estellarum down and across, cleaving through another enemy. He blocked high, parried inside and decapitated a Krun on the other side. Taem turned to his right, raised his sword and blocked a swing of a Krun axe. His retaliating strike cut deep into its ribs.
Taem’s senses were besieged on all sides. The chaos threatened to overwhelm him. Kruns and Ugurs fought like wild animals. Aborle crumbled under their ferocious charge. It took all Taem’s wits to maintain any concentration amongst the madness of the raging battle. Any thought of winning the battle was lost. A single moment was the difference between life and death. The only thing he could do was defend himself, stay alive.
Captain Traylark was forced onto the back foot by a fierce Krun opponent, and she stumbled. Steadying herself, Shandor brought her double-ended weapon from down by her side across her body, striking out with both spear heads. The force of the blow of the first spear-end knocked the Krun’s weapon out of its hand. The opposite spearhead cut across its chest. The beast toppled to the ground clutching its destroyed torso. No enemy now stood within two spear lengths of the Captain, and her fellow Forest Guard protected her flanks. In her brief respite she surveyed the carnage of the battle around her. Her Forest Guard held solid. Many charging Kruns had died, impaled on the waiting Aborle spears. Volleys of arrows were still landing in the rear of the Krun force, loosed by the Aborle high up on the walkways of the village. Nevertheless, the flanks were being overwhelmed. Although the flanking charge of the second Forest Guard unit was imminent, the Captain could see it was the right flank that was in danger.
All around Taem confusion ensued. Somehow the enemy were to both sides of him, and at his front and back. The screams of battle and the clash of steel roared up to deafen him. He bounded to the side and cut through two Kruns that had been gutting a grounded Aborle. The right flank was faltering. If it should fall, the centre could not stand alone. Out of the corner of his eye Taem glimpsed a Krun swinging at him in attack, with a serrated short sword. Taem brought his arms up. He rotated his sword, so the blade pointed down to the forest floor. In one flowing movement he spun full-circle, to cleave his attacker in two. The Sodan thrust Estellarum upwards, stabbing the next Krun through the neck. Taem whipped his Starblade across, back and over. Two more Krun fell down dead. Taem glimpsed, as he cut through another adversary, that Baek was desperately trying to hold together the Aborle of the right flank, bow in left hand and broadsword in his right.
Holding Estellarum in his left hand, Taem ducked down and snatched up a discarded Aborle sword with his right hand. The Aborle sword was much lighter than his Starblade. He tested the new blade’s balance, whirling both swords in overlapping figures of eight. He could take on many unskilled opponents with two swords.
With a battle cry, Taem threw himself into the Krun ranks. He was a whirlwind of blades. Whenever the enemy came within the circle of his range they died. The heat of battle consumed him. His only thought was of killing the enemy.
An Aborle beside Taem gargled on his own blood as he fell to his knees, trying to pull out the Krun spear that had skewered him. Taem cleaved down his Krun attacker with a mighty blow. Leaping forward, Taem’s right blade swung across his body, smashing into a Krun torso. A split-second later Estellarum followed the same path, striking the wounded enemy with such force that its torso separated from its legs. Two Kruns approached Taem to the front, either side of his centre-line. Flicking both his wrists down and then forward, Taem twirled both swords in mirrored circular paths, cutting into the two enemies and sending them sprawling. Bringing Estellarum back to his left side, Taem parried his next opponent’s blow. Taem followed through with his body twist, and removed the top part of the Krun’s skull with his other sword. Taem charged to the side, Starblade swinging, and smashed down two Kruns who had just sliced up the Aborle defending Taem’s flank.
Gerandel and the other Aborle positioned on the high platforms – the older Aborle and young ones barely more than children – shot deep into the Krun army, so not to risk hitting their own. As a veteran of previous battles, Gerandel knew to concentrate on what he had been ordered to do, but he could not help but keep an anxious eye on the right flank, where his son was in the forefront of the battle. Mainly though, his eyes were drawn to Taem as his swords flashed. The Sodan danced amongst the evil creatures, dealing out their deaths.
Taem had scythed his way through the melee to Baek, ‘We must hold the line!’ Taem roared as a tremendous downward strike obliterated one of his innumerable foes. ‘Hold it until the Krun are out-flanked!’
Taem decapitated a Krun with his right sword, and simultaneously blocked a different opponent with Estellarum in his left hand, Starblade parallel to the ground.