Haven Keep (Book 1) (64 page)

Tostig and Morten met the Halfen line together, cutting through easily.  The Halfen expected the attack from the front.  Together they cut a swathe through the Halfen army, his men trailing just behind, doing the same.  Tostig took no pleasure in cutting them down, but they could not be allowed to escape.  An enemy army allowed to run when it could have been dealt a death blow would become a thorn in the side, a danger that would eventually need to be taken care of.  Tostig cut down everyone in his path, showing no mercy, it was not out of hate, but necessity.  These were lessons he learned years ago.  Lessons reinforced time and time again.

The Halfen finally turned to fight and Tostig felt himself relax a little.  He did not like to slaughter routing troops no matter what the need.  He did it when occasion required, but fighting men who were actually facing him was more noble.

Morten and he continued their charge and his men followed.  A wall of horse and men battered
against the Halfen.  The resistance they met was only slightly greater than no resistance at all.  The Halfen were still confused and not fighting together.  They fell with nearly every sword stroke.

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Baiden fought hard for his people, fought for his land, for Von and his brother.  He fought
for the emperor he had failed, and for the chance to redeem himself.  He was sweat soaked, spattered in blood and his arm ached with fatigue.  He did not know how long he had been fighting, but he could not and would not allow himself to fall to these traitors.

It amazed him how battles were always hot.   He was warmed with the heavy exertion, but also with the anger of a battle rage.  He knew he was getting on in years, but he still possessed a strong and powerful frame.  He was not as quick as he once was, yet with his accumulating years he was more cunning and wily.  He fought with the skill that only came with experience and an intensity that came from having seen battles before and knowing what would happen if he let up just a bit.

Baiden had been unhorsed more than once in his life and was determined not to let it happen again.  The last time had cost him some fingers and nearly his life.  He fought now with shield and axe.  He favored that weapon more from horseback.  With the momentum from the horse and the heavy blows of the axe it was very difficult for his enemies to deflect his attacks.  He swung down at the footman before him, splitting the wooden shield and taking most of the arm that held it.  A horseman charged him and Baiden nearly cleaved the man in two.  Something pulled at him from behind and he whirled, smashing his axe down on a helmeted head.  Spinning his horse around he trampled the man, then spun again and rode himself into the center of the tumult.

*
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Kaiden rode along side Oded.  He was in awe of this man’s fighting ability.  Kaiden told himself to stay close to Oded and he would survive.  The man’s sword spun like a fan, easily deflecting any attempts to reach him, each counter stroke dealing more damage than the force of the swing appeared capable of.  Each a killing blow, lanced with precise skill at the vitals of his enemy.  He easily avoided attacks and his counter strikes passed any defenses without difficulty, almost always finding their target.  More than once  Kaiden had gotten himself in trouble watching Oded rather than paying attention to his own opponents.   He was more focused now, but remained close to Oded nonetheless.

He parried and countered more times than he could count.  The battle must have gone on for an hour, but Kaiden knew that could not be correct.  Still his eyes stung with sweat and his muscles felt the strain of overuse.  He knew he was slowing, but he could not allow himself to.  If he rested, he could die.

Oded, showed no signs of tiring.  The man fought on and inspired Kaiden to do the same.

Kaiden fought through the press of men and horses, stabbing and slashing, using his shield to defend himself and push the Halfen back.  His father was visible through the throng more than once, fighting along side other men from Azmark.  He fought with axe and shield, dealing devastating blows to those who opposed him. That sight inspired him more than Oded.

He pressed forward now with a greater determination to meet his allies in the center, the way they planned.  It was designed to force the Halfen back and it was working.  The Halfen fell
before them, confused and disorganized.  There was no way the Halfen could have expected an attack like this.  How could they?  Until this morning they had assembled the greatest fighting force the north had seen in over a thousand years and in the lesser part of an hour it was reduced to a rabble fighting for their lives.

They deserved nothing less, yet Yaris had been given a second chance.  Why shouldn’t the rest of them be given the same?  Kaiden had seen enough death.  Was it not time to show mercy?

Oded kept pressing, so Kaiden did too.

*
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Flenn was surprised the Halfen were able to mount such a defense when much of their army was already running.  The Halfen fought bravely, but they were vastly outnumbered now.  Soon the overwhelming numbers took their toll and the remaining Halfen began to flee.  Flenn continued to harry them, keeping them at a run, but he did not chase too hard.  He had witnessed enough killing for a life time this day.

Then he saw Tostig, driving the Halfen as hard as he could, not letting up, giving no quarter.  The Halfen fled from him and his men in terror.  The sight made Flenn sick, seeing men cut down in a slaughter as they fled.  Then Oded came into view and he was doing the same.  Surely well over ten thousand of the Halfen were already dead or dying.  The rest should be allowed to go.  This was a butcher’s yard.  The stink of this place would remain for generations.  Let there be an end to it.  Only the slaughter continued, and to Flenn’s dismay he helped it along.

Then the hammer hit.  Domnal and his men crashed like a sleeper wave over the top of the decimated Halfen army, buried them as a giant wave buries the sands and rocks it pounds against.  The Halfen army was literally crushed and Flenn wanted no more part of it.  He stopped his charge and let the Halfen flee.  They could not possibly return with such great numbers.  They were broken.

Flenn wondered how the Horde ever defeated Oded and his men.  They seemed invincible.  It was they who won this battle, they who were responsible for this great carnage.  No, that wasn’t fair, he played his part just as well, but it was over now.  At least for him.

The Halfen ran in every direction.  The slaughter continued until the last Halfen with any fight in him was killed.  Those who had no fight left were running.  Those who were not running were surrendering.  The fighting was at an end, finally.  It was a complete victory.

Flenn doubted the casualties on their side numbered more than a thousand, if that.  This victory was more lopsided than the one before the walls of Azmark.  Was that only this morning?  It seemed like a lifetime ago.  It was something to rejoice over, yet he couldn’t help thinking of all the wasted lives, the bodies littering the moonlit field.  Blood stained the snow red, but to Flenn it was black, like the shadows  covering the forest.  He would not soon forget this night, though he wished he could.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Soren knew their decision was more than a little foolish.  Despite their prowess in battle, confronting such overwhelming numbers could have easily been their death.  If not for the cover of night and the superstitions of the inhabitants of the north they could have quickly become surrounded and taken a blade or an arrow in the back.  He needed to steer Von toward caution in the future.  Von actually appeared to enjoy instilling fear into the invading Halfen. That was probably the worst aspect of this incident.

Von’s recent actions bothered Soren.  The young man’s temper was rising to the surface frequently.  Soren knew Von held secrets deep within himself, and some of those secrets were now becoming exposed for all to see.  With their exposure came a window into a darker side of Von.  He was young and required guidance, help in steering away from poor choices.  Soren told himself that was the primary reason he’d sworn an oath to Von.  He had positioned himself to remain close to Von, become a voice of reason and experience.  He wondered if he would have done the same knowing Von’s older brother, the true heir, yet lived.  It did not matter, Soren had sworn and now his life belonged to Von.   Soren would serve Von as best he could, even if it meant protecting Von from himself.

Soren was a man of few words.  He rarely shared his thoughts, unless he could shed light on or help solve the problem at hand.  Idle chat was not something he indulged in, so he understood why Von kept everything inside.  A man’s thoughts were his own private business, and he did not press Von to talk, but if Von continued on in this manner he may just boil over.  Soren was well aware of the times Von’s passions simmered to the point of eruption, and it was only a matter of time before he did explode.  A firm, but gentle guiding hand is what Von needed, now more than ever.

Soren and Von were on another detour.  Von led them toward the prisoners the Halfen scout spoke of.  In their wake was the confusion and panic they had caused in the Halfen ranks.  Soren smiled to himself, maybe he had enjoyed that a little too much as well.  He knew what they had done would help Baiden’s cause.  Any fear or misgivings the Halfen now bore could do nothing but give Baiden a greater advantage.  To have been at the battle, personally lending their might would have been better, but Von was correct in at least this thing.  Ky needed to be stopped.  If he managed to get himself named Lord of the North a major battle would be lost in the minds of many of the people.  Some of his lies might begin to be taken for truth.

Soren understood why Von wanted to rescue the prisoners.  Soren did not want to see women and children carried off any more than Von did, but felt there was no time for this.  They would reach Stone Abbey late, possibly too late, and they had not rested for nearly three days.  The prisoners could have waited, but Von insisted, and who was Soren to argue.  He would follow Von to the Rift if that was where Von led.  Soren may protest or voice his concerns, but he knew in the end he would follow. His oath bound him.

Soren was aware of how fatigued Von must be, but even in his weary state the boy still moved well through the forest.   Every man Soren considered his equal at scouting and tracking was long dead.  That was until he encountered Oded and Tostig.  Soren would trust their eyes as much as his own.  Von showed promise as well.  He was a natural, and stalked through the snow covered evergreens like a leopard silently pursuing prey, even on horseback.  The two massive dogs shadowing him were fiercely loyal and deadly in a fight.  It was no wonder the Halfen mistook them for demon hounds.

Soren and Von saw the fires of a large camp through the trees.  Tents were erected in the center, the openings facing inward.  The prisoners were most likely in the middle, surrounded by guards.  There were about fifty armed men in the camp, if the Halfen scout was to be believed.  From what Soren could see at this distance those numbers seemed about right.

Soren and Von dismounted and left the horses hidden behind a crop of trees. The snow was deep and hampered progress, but gave more cover.  Isk and Jen padded along close to Von, untroubled by the snow.  Soren knew those hounds could tear a wolf to shreds and had seen first hand what they could do to a man.

They crept closer, staying low, moving between the trees, rocks and brush.  They needed stealth for this to work.  If they were seen or the alarm was sounded they could be overwhelmed.

Raucous laughter carried through the forest from amidst the campfires.  Soren was certain most of the camp was drunk.   That would make their job easier.  The laughter occasionally broke, and in the brief silence he heard children and women crying.  Their soft, muted sobs stabbed Soren in the heart.  Maybe Von was right in coming here first.  No one deserved to be left in the hands of these men.  Who knew what crimes the Halfen had already committed against these innocent people?  Von had spent a short time in chains on a slave ship.  Soren could only guess the feelings his young master now felt as they approached the camp.   He hoped Von kept his head about him.

Two sentries guarded this end of the camp, standing close together, their cloaks pulled tightly around their bodies.  The men gave no heed to their duty, engrossed in conversation rather than watching the night.  Soren and Von carefully inched within striking distance.

The Halfen were only a few spans away now.  Soren held his breath and drew the dagger Von had given him at Haven Keep.  The blade felt alive in his hand, an extension of his will.  He had used the blade in the battle at Azmark, then again as Von and he cut their way through the Halfen army.  He knew the weapon was more deadly than the sword he carried.  He wondered if Kaiden and Yaris had discovered this.  Soren suspected Von’s sword held the same properties, yet Von’s sword did not come from Haven Keep, and neither did the dagger he kept at his side.  They were part of the secrets Von carried.  Soren could wait for the answers.

Soren and Von rose from the shadows, striking quickly.  Soren’s hand covered the near guard’s mouth.  He twisted and pulled hard.  The man fell backward.  Soren’s knife opened his throat.  Von dispatched the second in similar fashion.  They left the bodies buried in the snow and
moved swiftly back to the cover of the trees.

They made their way around the perimeter of the camp, moving cautiously.  Two more sentries patrolled the side of the camp.  The guards fell as quietly as the first.  Soren kept the their swords.

“We can arm the prisoners,” he whispered, “make this a more even fight.”

Von nodded and continued forward.  They moved silently towards the next pair of guards.  So far this was going too easily.

A clamor erupted in the distance.  The men in camp stood and stared toward the sound.