The Gift of Battle

Kendrick raised his sword high and slashed the boy’s ropes, freeing him.

“Take my sword!” Kendrick implored.

Kaden grabbed the extra short sword from Kendrick’s scabbard, and spun and faced the rest of the creatures, at Kendrick’s side. Although he was young, Kendrick could see the boy was quick and brave and bold, and Kendrick was pleased to have him by his side, fighting the creatures.

They fought well together, felling creatures left and right. But, fight as they did, there were just too many of them, and Kendrick and Kaden were soon completely surrounded.

Kendrick was losing strength, his shoulders tiring, when suddenly, he saw the creatures begin to fall and heard a great battle cry from behind them. Kendrick was elated to see Koldo, Ludvig, Brandt, and Atme break through the lines, killing creatures in every direction. Encouraged, Kendrick fought back, making one last push, Kaden by his side. The six of them, fighting together, were unstoppable, felling all of the creatures.

Kendrick stood there in the silence, breathing hard on the desert sand, taking stock; he could hardly believe what they had just done. All around them were the piled up carcasses of the beasts, sprawled out in various directions, the sand red with blood. He and the others were covered in wounds, scratched up – but they all stood there, alive. And Kaden, grinning from ear to ear, was free.

Kaden reached out and embraced each one of them, one by one, starting with Kendrick, looking at him meaningfully. He saved his final embrace for Koldo, his eldest brother, and Koldo hugged him back, his black skin rippling in the sky.

“I can’t believe you came for me,” Kaden said.

“You’re my brother,” Koldo said. “Where else would I be?”

Kendrick heard a sound and looked over and saw the six horses these creatures had kidnapped, all tied to a rope together – and he and the others exchanged knowing glances.

As one, they all rushed over and mounted the beasts, each barely seated before they dug in their heels and prodded the beasts onward, back into the Waste, all heading back to the Ridge, back, finally, to home.

Chapter Fifteen

Erec stood at the stern of his ship, taking up the rear of his fleet, and checked back over his shoulder once again with anxiety. On the one hand, he was relieved that they had managed to wipe out that Empire village, to fork back up the river toward Volusia, toward Gwendolyn; on the other hand, he had paid a dear price, not just in lost men, but in lost time – he had wiped out whatever lead they’d had on the remainder of the Empire fleet. As he glanced back, he saw them following, way too close, snaking their way upriver, but a few hundred yards away, sailing the black and gold banners of the Empire. He had lost his day’s lead on them, and they now followed him furiously, like a hornet chasing its prey, their superior ships, better manned, getting ever closer with each gust of wind.

Erec turned back and checked the horizon. He knew from his scouts that Volusia lay just beyond the bend somewhere – yet, at the rate at which the Empire was closing the gap, he wondered if his small fleet would reach it in time. He was starting to realize that if they did not make it in time, they would have to turn around and make a stand – and that was a stand, so vastly outnumbered, they could not win.

Erec heard a sound that raised the hairs on the back of his neck, and he turned and looked up to see a sight which left him with a cold dread: a wave of Empire arrows had been unleashed, and they now sailed through the air, blackening the sky, heading, in a high arc, for his fleet. Erec braced himself and watched with relief as the first volley landed in the water all around him, perhaps twenty yards from his ship, the sound of arrows hitting water sounding like heavy raindrops.

“ARROWS!” Erec yelled, warning his men to take cover.

Most of them did, and not a moment too soon. Another volley soon followed, these shot by crossbows with a further range, and Erec watched, horrified, as one reached the deck of his ship and one of his soldiers yelled out. Erec turned to see it sticking through his leg, pierced by a random arrow, the only one with a range just far enough to hit.

Erec felt a flush of indignation – and of urgency. The Empire was within range; too soon they would be overtaken, and with the Empire’s fleet of thousands of ships, there was simply no way Erec’s men could outfight them. Erec knew he had to think quickly.

“Shall we turn and fight, my brother?” asked Strom, coming up beside him.

Alistair looked back, too, standing calmly beside him.

“You will prevail, my love,” she said. “I have seen it.”

Erec felt encouraged by her words, as always, and as he stared and studied the landscape, an idea came to him.

“Sometimes,” he said, “we must sacrifice to achieve something greater.”

Erec turned to his brother, confident.

“Board the ship beside us. Evacuate it, then take up the rear,” he commanded. He then took Strom’s arm and looked him in the eye.

“When you’re done,” he added, “set that ship aflame, and sail it right for their fleet. You will jump on my ship before the flames overtake it.”

Strom’s eyes widened in appreciation for the plan. He jumped into action, running and leaping from the deck to the ship beside him, executing his brother’s orders. He began barking orders, and the men fell in all around him, jumping into action and beginning to abandon ship, jumping onto the deck of Erec’s ship. Erec could feel the weight of his ship growing heavier.

“More oars!” Erec cried, feeling them slowing.

He doubled the number of oarsmen on board, and they all pulled, heaving, as Erec’s ship began to pick up speed.

“Spread out!” Erec commanded, realizing his ship was going too slow. “Jump to the other ships!”

His men did as commanded, jumping from his ship to several others in his fleet, distributing their weight evenly amongst the ships. Finally, Erec’s ship righted and gained speed.

Erec turned to watch the last of the men jump from Strom’s ship. Strom raised a torch and ran up and down the ship, setting flame to everything, then threw it with all his might. The torch landed on the mast, lighting it, setting the whole ship in a huge conflagration, and Strom turned, leapt back onto his brother’s ship, and stood there, watching, as the ghost ship, aflame, drifted down current – right for the Empire fleet.

“Row!” Erec yelled, wanting to gain more distance from the flaming ship, from the Empire.

They gained more and more distance, speeding upriver.

The Empire fleet tried to turn out of the way – but there was nowhere to navigate in the tiny river. The flaming ship caused chaos. They attacked it, not realizing it was unmanned, wasting precious arrows and spears. The ship was pummeled from all directions – but nothing could stop the flow of it.

Within moments, the ship, a burning wreck, floated right to the center of the Empire fleet, parting it down the middle. And they had no way to stop it.

The ship struck the others, and as men shrieked and jumped out of the way, flames began to lick, spreading left and right, causing chaos in this Empire fleet. Soon, several other ships were on fire, with their soldiers scrambling to put them out.