The Eternal Darkness (19 page)

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Authors: Steven A. Tolle

Tags: #Teen & Young Adult, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Sword & Sorcery

BOOK: The Eternal Darkness
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Three days later, the late morning sky overcast and gray, Marcus stood just behind hasty barricades along the hilltop command area, the cold breeze pulling at this cloak, as he looked down on the army.  In the distance, he could make out the smoke of the cook fires of the enemy camped near the town of Numaria.

With the scouts reporting that the bulk of the enemy army was encamped near the foothills below the Keep, Reiden had marched the soldiers to the south of the road and into the hills to gain a tactical advantage.  He had the army march without stopping, wanting to gain the high ground and the element of surprise.  He established his camp along the ridge of three connected hilltops, located behind the hills that directly overlooked Numaria.  The soldiers had worked through the night, erecting barriers along the perimeter, giving them some protection in case of retreat.

The army was still hidden from the enemy’s view behind the hills, awaiting the final reports of the scouts.  Reiden wanted the latest disposition of the enemy forces before he launched the attack.

Even as Marcus surveyed the army, Werdan rode out of the press of men towards the command tent.  Marcus called for Reiden to come out.  The commander came out just as Werdan reached the tent.  Seeing Reiden and Marcus, Werdan slid off his horse before it had completely stopped.

“The enemy is still located around the town, Commander,” he reported.  “It appears that the population was evacuated before the army reached it, as I did not see any signs that it was taken in a fight.  They have some forces in the town proper, but most are staged outside of the walls.  I saw a large number of infantry, with archers in support.  Their archers’ bows are somewhere between a short bow and our long bows.  I believe that our archers will have the advantage of range.  I saw their cavalry riding on patrols.  I did not see any heavy horse.  There were demons present, but they did not seem concentrated in any particular area.”

“Excellent work, Sergeant,” Reiden stated.  He turned to Marcus.  “Shall we begin, Highness?” he asked.

“You have the command, Reiden,” Marcus said.  “You may attack when ready.”

Runners were sent to the officers with orders.  The archers would form on the hilltop to gain more distance on their arrows while the infantry advanced to the front of the hill.  The knights, cavalry, and mounted clerics would guard the flanks.  The assumption was that the enemy would be forced to close with the army to avoid the archers’ fire, attacking while the soldiers had the advantage of elevation.

While the infantry and horsemen began to march to their positions, Marcus and the nobles joined Reiden, Helgrant and the other commanders and rode ahead to accompany the archers as they climbed to the top of the barren hill directly above Numaria.  From the hilltop, they would have a clear view of the battle as it took place.

When they reached the top of the hill and the archers formed ranks, Marcus could see the enemy army forming their own ranks as they recognized the threat.  Not wanting to give them time to prepare, Reiden ordered the archers to begin the attack.

Waves of arrows began to rake across the enemy, causing chaos.  Marcus saw men fall and the enemy formations break up as they attempted to escape the arrows.  The enemy archers attempted to respond, but their arrows fell short of the infantry forming ranks below the archers.

As Reiden believed would happen, the enemy charged forward, trying to outrun the death that rained down.  The enemy outnumbered them, but the positioning of the infantry, set in a defensive formation below the archers, was meant to equalize the fight.  Attacking an elevated defensive position was very difficult, especially when it had to be done within an archer’s range.

The soldiers braced, shields and spears ready, as the enemy infantry came up the hill.  The archers continued to loose arrows, wreaking havoc, but it was not enough to stop the enemy.  With the shouts of battle cries, the enemy charged into the infantry’s lines.

The line bent back from the weight of the assault, but then recovered.  With their shields and spears, the infantry pushed, driving the enemy back.  The clashing of metal, as well as screams and curses, filled the air as the two forces clashed.  The archers, now selecting their targets, continued to fire into the enemy.

Focused on the battle below, Marcus started when Reiden called out a command for the archers to shift their fire.  The enemy archers, advancing behind infantry carrying heavy shields, were now within their range and began to loft arrows at the infantry.  Men began to fall to the attacks, even as Marcus’ archers tried to drive the enemy archers back.

With the thunder of hooves shaking the ground, the knights charged in, striking the flanks of the enemy and attacking the enemy archers.  They surged in, cutting a large wedge into the enemy formation, and then wheeled away.  As they broke off their attack, Marcus saw some empty saddles and bodies in shining armor lying on the ground.

The sheer size of the enemy army began to force the infantry back, inch by inch.  Reiden call the reserve forces forward, trying to strengthen the lines.  The fresh soldiers brought a new surge in the line and the infantry was able to regain some ground.

“Where are the demons?” Marcus asked suddenly, looking at the battlefield.  He had been so caught up in the fighting that their absence had slipped his mind.

Before anyone could respond, his question was answered as the demons appeared from behind the small hills on their flanks.  There were hundreds of them, running forward, their forms cloaked in their dark power.

Demon fire enveloped the cavalry closest to the charging horde, burning horses and men, their screams reaching Marcus.  The clerics with the cavalry tried to respond, but were quickly overwhelmed by the sheer number of demons.  The demons began to attack the knights and the edges of the infantry line.

“Archers, target the demons!” Reiden shouted as Trence began to organize his clerics to respond. The archers’ attacks succeed in driving the demons back, but their dark fire was still killing soldiers.

With the archers occupied, the enemy bowmen came forward again, striking at the infantry.  With the new attack, the line began to give way.  The enemy, sensing their advantage, pushed forward, driving the soldiers back.

“Sound retreat!” Reiden ordered his bannerman as he saw his advantage failing.  “Send the knights in to disrupt the enemy, and then have the archers cover the infantry as they withdraw,” he told his commanders.  “We will fall back to the camp and form defensive lines.  We will have some protection on our flanks and can prevent the enemy from encircling us.  Go!”  The officers ran towards the line, calling out orders.

“Go, Highness,” Reiden said, his sword now in his hand, pointing back towards the camp.  “There is nothing for you to do here.  I will oversee the retreat and try to keep the enemy at bay long enough for most of our forces to make it back to the barricades.”

“Yes, Prince Marcus,” Nathen said forcefully.  He and Daen had their shields on their arms and swords out as well.  “You gave your word to the queen to avoid the battle.  Commander Reiden is correct.  You must fall back.”

Marcus’ frustration was like a physical pain gripping his chest, as he briefly considered overruling them all.  However, with the nobles gathered here, he was not going to be seen as defying Keria and breaking his promise.

“Very well,” he growled.  “I will await you at the command area in the camp.”

Reiden nodded and turned his attention back towards the battle.  Biting off curses, Marcus wheeled his horse and raced back towards the barriers, Daen and Nathen right behind him.

Once he passed through the opening in the camp’s defenses, he turned back towards the battle.  He could only watch as the infantry began to stream back to the camp.  The archers followed, with the knights and mounted clerics providing a costly rearguard action to delay the enemy.

The soldiers, wounded or not, immediately began to take up positions along the perimeter of the camp.  The infantry officers began to organize the defense of the camp, as the archers formed up behind the infantry again while runners gathered fresh quivers of arrows.  The cavalry rode in and quickly abandoned their horses to take up positions with the other soldiers.

Marcus watched as the knights and clerics began to race back to the camp, surrounding the nobles and commanders.  He saw the enemy forces gain the hilltop they had just occupied.  The enemy infantry reformed into units as the demons gathered together.  He could hear their cold voices calling out jeers and curses.

He grabbed his shield and strapped it to his arm.  Sliding off his horse, he drew his sword and prepared to defend the camp, promise or no.  He glanced as Dean and Nathen, silently challenging them to say something.  What he got in return were grim nods as they took up positions next to him.  They would fight together.

As he looked back across the field towards the enemy, he was surprised to see that they were not pressing the attack.  In fact, they seemed to be digging in, setting up defensive positions. 
What are they doing?

He looked over when he heard Helgrant call his name.  He expected to hear some comment on his promise to remain out of the fighting, but he saw a look of grief on the man’s face as he came over to him.  It was clear that he had participated in the fighting, as there was blood on his uniform and rents in his armor.  “My prince, I am sorry to report that Commander Reiden fell while trying to secure the retreat.  We were unable to recover his body.”

The news stunned Marcus.  He had liked the man and trusted his judgment in military matters.  However, he saw the other commanders and the nobles looking at him, expecting him to make a decision.  Shaking off his sadness and shock, he faced Helgrant.  “Commander, you now have military command over the army,” he stated in a steady voice.  “You have my complete trust and support.”

“I will try to honor that trust, Your Highness,” Helgrant replied with a bow.  He was a soldier and understood the need for order and command.  “First, we must strengthen our defenses while we try to determine the enemy’s next move.”

Marcus nodded as they went over to the command tent, though his gaze was still on the enemy, which was making no moves towards the camp. 
What are they waiting for?


Far to the south, deep in the Gray Ridges, a group of four men made their way through the tall pines along a narrow stone path.  Martis huddled against the chill as he followed behind his guide.  Despite warm temperatures in the lower elevations, the air had turned cold as they navigated the high mountain passes.  Ranech was directly behind him, with another guide bringing up the rear.

They had escaped in the chaos that followed the demon attack in Danelias.  Stealing coin from the dead as they made their way to the city gates, they had taken some horses that they found wandering the streets.  In a brief moment of sheer terror, he had caught a glimpse of the warrior Dominic with the Aletonian, Moshanna, on the streets as he rode towards freedom.  He knew what would have happened if that man had caught them. 
He is a walking nightmare,
Martis thought with a shudder that had nothing to do with the cold.

Free of the city, he and Ranech had ridden straight for the Gray Ridges.  They followed the foothills south, avoiding people as much as possible.  Knowing that there was a reward for his capture, he kept his head down while Ranech gathered supplies.  His goal was to cross the mountains and head to the city-states in the south, where he still had some resources and anonymity could be bought.

In the end, they were forced to hire the guides to lead them over the mountains.  It was a risk, but the alternatives were to continue to ride south and attempt the Southern Wilds or flounder about in the mountains, hoping that they got lucky.  Neither was an appealing prospect. 
My luck ended when I crossed paths with that cursed boy,
he thought bitterly.

The guide in front of him, a short wiry man named Tekan Foreststrider, his dark face weathered from years in the elements, brought the party to a halt.  He motioned Martis forward.  “This is the top of the pass, friend,” he said proudly.  “As I said, I have brought you safely over the mountains.  You can follow the path west and you will eventually find yourself in southern Morisan.”

“You have been a trusted guide, friend Tekan,” Martis replied, sharing a quick glance with Ranech.

“Now, as we agreed, you will pay the other half of my fee,” Taken said, holding out his hand.

“Of course, Tekan,” Martis said pleasantly as he reached for his coin purse.  He saw the man’s eyes follow his hand and used that momentary distraction to draw his dagger and ram it into the man’s chest.  Tekan staggered back, clutching at the wound, and then collapsed, writhing on the ground.

From behind him, Martis heard a gurgling sound.  He turned and saw Ranech had the other man in a chokehold, squeezing the life from him.  With a sudden wrench, Ranech broke the man’s neck.  As the body fell to the ground, Martis pointed to Tekan.  “Finish him off and collect his water, food and coin.  We will leave the bodies here.”

As Ranech moved towards Tekan, Martis knelt down next to the other man’s body.  As he reached to search for valuables, he saw that his hands were shaking.  Grimacing, he forced himself to continue. 
I never wanted any of this; I was happy with my life.  I curse the day I met Jake Thomas.
  Suppressing a sob, he began to rummage through the dead man’s pockets.

 

C
HAPTER
E
LEVEN

Far to the west, where the sun still shone from behind the puffy white clouds that filled the sky, Jake stood at the bow of the ship, leaning against the rail and gazing out over the sea.  He could see nothing but water stretching in all directions to the horizon.  The sea was calm, with low gentle swells making soft splashes against the bow as the ship slowly moved forward.  The sails fluttered behind him, filling and collapsing as the flow of the wind strengthened and ebbed. 
I think I can swim faster,
he thought grumpily.

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