Chapter 41 - Counterattack

Andres steadied himself behind the village walls as the Army of Dor-ko advanced. Hundreds of warriors from the village of Cliffton stood to his right and to his left, with arrows notched and bows bent. All was silent inside the walls; there were no cheers, shouts, or battle cries. Everyone was quiet with their eyes on their attackers. The men knew the range of their weapons. There was no need to waste their ammunition on an enemy that still was too far away.

Slowly the enemy line approached. It was not the entire army--just fifty men or so walking shoulder to shoulder. As Andres peered over the walls, he thought it odd that the first wave did not appear to be armed. They just walked slowly, carrying several objects above their heads. Try as he could, Andres could not make out what they were carrying. After a few moments, a bugle call sounded out from the enemy’s side. That was when the advancing line began to run.

“Let the arrows fly!” bellowed Samek. Andres joined the rest of his comrades in sending his first arrow across the field of battle. It found its mark, striking one of the soldiers in the heart and sending him tumbling to the ground. Andres trembled and broke into a cold sweat. He’d always trained for such moments, but he never thought he’d actually have to kill someone in battle. But before he could drown in his thoughts, he felt a hand grip his shoulder. It was Pipes.

“Well done, Your Majesty!” Pipes shouted above the roar of the battle. “Stay steady, and don’t despair. We’re fighting for your father! We didn’t want this fight, Andres, but they are the ones who are attacking. So for the sake of your father, your family, and for the Kingdom of Aberdeen, we must fight and take them all down if need be! So grab another arrow and keep battling, Andres! This is the day that you were born for!”

Andres looked Pipes in the eyes. He was reassured by the calm determination in the man’s eyes. Andres nodded, grabbed another arrow, and returned his mind to the combat at hand.

The men of Cliffton shot volley after volley at the advancing line. Strangely, no arrows were shot in return. The line simply staggered forward until, one by one, the enemy soldiers fell. After just a few moments, the line was entirely struck down. An eerie quiet descended over the battlefield. Andres couldn’t understand what had just happened. What kind of attack was that?

As Andres stared at the fallen enemy soldiers, he could make out what they’d been carrying. They appeared to be tall ladders, and now they were strewn around the field. He turned to Pipes, and Pipes answered his question before he could ask it. “I guess their plan was to try and scale our walls with those ladders,” he said. “There is something awfully strange about this whole thing...”

Before Pipes could finish his thought, another bugle call sounded forth. Andres and the rest of the men of Cliffton stared intently at the enemy’s battle array. This time, he looked out and saw two lines appearing to form. The first line again was unarmed and began to advance forward at a slow trot. The second line, however, was armed. They moved forward as well, staying about 10 yards behind the first line.

When the first line came within bowshot, the men of Cliffton again sent a volley of arrows downrange. Again, many arrows found their mark, and several of the advancing men fell to the ground. But still the first line advanced. And as they did, the second line knelt down, grabbed their arrows, and returned a volley of their own.

Andres ducked to avoid an arrow that seemed to be aimed right at his head. He could hear Pipes grumble. “Those miserable wretches!” he cried. “If a fight is what they want, then a fight is what they’ll get!” He then grabbed another arrow, quickly took aim, and let it fly. Andres didn’t see where it landed; he hardly dared to look. He’d fought plenty of fun battles with his brother Andres, and on more than one occasion the brothers had sort of felt like killing each other. But this was different. Now there was an entire army that wanted to nothing but kill him and the rest of his fellow warriors.

Andres’ hands trembled as he tried to reach for another arrow. “What...what should I do?” he stuttered.

“Those scoundrels are making us choose!” Pipes replied. “The boneheads in the first rank have one job--to grab the ladders and bring them to our walls to set up the assault. They are defenseless--poor, dumb, witless creatures!--and we can kill them easily. But we can’t only focus on them, because now they are being covered by the boneheads in the second rank. And we can’t just stand here and fire at the second rank, because if we do, then the first rank will get closer and closer to our walls. So we’ve got to pick our poison! We shoot at first rank and risk being shot through by the second rank. Or we shoot at the second rank and risk having the first rank get their dastardly ladders in position to invade our city!”

Andres tried to process it all. It was too much for his 14-year-old mind to absorb. But as he thought, another arrow went flying overhead. He shook his head and blinked hard, trying to collect his wits. Again he felt the hand of Pipes on his shoulder. This time, the hand grasped him hard and shook him vigorously. “Prince Andres!” he cried. “Please either join us in this battle, or retreat to safety inside the village! You will be in danger here at the wall if you don’t engage the enemy!”

Andres was embarrassed at his hesitation. He swallowed hard and turned back toward the battle. He resolved in his mind that today he would fight...even if it cost him his life. He grabbed another arrow from his quiver, notched it, took aim at one of the bedeviling archers in the second rank, and let it fly. Once again, his arrow found its mark. From that moment on, Andres’ mind was engaged in the battle--a battle that seemed interminable.

The enemy launched wave after wave at the village of Cliffton. The archers of Cliffton were fearless, and their aim was true. It seemed as though every arrow that they launched found a target, and soon the battlefield was littered with the bodies of the enemy. But still they attacked. Wave after wave of unarmed soldiers marched forward and advanced the ladders, and wave after wave of archers stayed behind and covered their advance with a volley of arrows. The enemy’s archers weren’t as accurate as the men of Cliffton, and most of their arrows soared harmlessly overhead. But they were relentless. And every once in awhile, an arrow found its mark and felled one of the brave men of Cliffton.

As they day advanced, the sun rose high in the sky and beat down on the men that stood their positions inside the city walls. Andres throat was parched. He yearned for just a swallow of water, yet he could not divert his attention for even an instant from the battle. He just couldn’t get his attention off the “body” that had been dropped by the hooded man. The man had declared that it was the body of his father, King Maximilian. Andres doubted it was true. But what if it was?

The body continued to lie on the ground, just beyond the range of Cliffton’s archers. Behind the body remained the hooded man atop his horse. But as the day progressed, more warriors came and encircled the body. As noon approached, Andres thought he could see no less than 6 knights, all arrayed in black armor, sitting on horses and protecting the body. If the king is dead, Andres thought, then why are they so worried about protecting a corpse? It just didn’t make sense.

But there was little time to think. Though hundreds of Dor-ko’s army lay strewn across the battlefield, still they advanced. There seemed to be no end to the enemy forces. They just kept streaming out of the woods, and wave after wave of ladder-bearers and archers came forward. By late afternoon, the ladders had made it to the village walls. The men of Cliffton tried valiantly to knock them down and slow the advance. But they found that the enemy archers used the ladders as a target. If a warrior of Cliffton stood up above the walls to try and dislodge the ladder, an enemy archer would almost always send an arrow flying his way. After losing nearly a half-dozen soldiers in this way, Samek ordered his soldiers back.

“Just let ‘em come!” Samek bellowed to his exhausted warriors. “We’ll just have to get them one by one as they reach the top of the ladders. I need about two men to guard every ladder from behind, and as soon as you see their ugly heads pop over the top, let an arrow fly right up their huge noses!”

One of the soldiers cried out for water. Andres suddenly remembered how parched his own throat was, and he turned around and saw a couple of girls approaching. It was his sister Remma and her new-found friend, Kaelanna. They were awkwardly carrying a bucket of water between them. “Remma, you’re awesome!” Andres cried out as he rushed over to her and prepared to take a drink. But just before he could reach in for a gulp, Andres saw something out of the corner of his eye. He jerked his head upward saw a volley of arrows flying in their direction, but this time there was something different about them. When they landed, he could see what it was.

They were flaming arrows. And they had found their mark--one of the nearby houses, where many of the warriors wives and children were staying.

And now, the battle changed. Half of the warriors had to scramble to put out the fires that were being launched by the enemy archers, while the other half perilously guarded the ladders. The precious water that was so desperately needed by the courageous warriors had to be used to quench the fires that threatened to engulf the village. Andres was enraged. Dor-ko’s seemingly endless army was about to utterly destroy a small village. And all Andres and his comrades in arms could do was to try and make sure they paid a high price for their conquest. It seemed hopeless.

Andres positioned himself next to Pipes, and together they picked off Dor-ko’s men as they clambered over the village walls. But there were just too many ladders and too many men. For every one of the enemy that was sent tumbling by an arrow strike to the head, another one of Dor-ko’s men successful made it over the wall in a different spot. Soon about ten of Dor-ko’s men were over the wall and attacking. Legs quickly gathered some warriors together and engaged Dor-ko’s men in hand-to-hand combat. Yet while Dor-ko’s men were quickly defeated, the distraction allowed still more of Dor-ko’s soldiers to scale the wall in another part of the village. The attack was unrelenting.

As the afternoon wore on and sunset approached, Andres became exhausted. He had helped fend off and end the lives of nearly two dozen of Dor-ko’s men, yet it all seemed for naught. The enemy would not be deterred. They just kept advancing. As Andres gathered with Legs and Pipes to prepare for another wave of the onslaught, he asked, “Where is Gregorex? We sure could use him right about now!”

Legs tried to answer, but he couldn’t. His throat was too dry to even speak. Pipes mumbled something, but he was fighting just to catch his breath. Andres stared around him and saw that all of the warriors were drenched in sweat. Many were badly bruised and scarred. Off to his right, Andres saw Fred. He had a bloody wound in his shoulder, where an arrow had grazed him earlier. All of the men were grim-faced. They weren’t ready to give up, yet neither were they ready to fight on much longer. Their spirit was willing, but their flesh was weak--and growing weaker by the moment.

Finally Samek spoke up. “Gregorex...,” he said while panting, “he...he left last night. He...he took his horse and...headed back toward the castle. He...he...was hoping to urge them along. He thought...it was...our only chance at...defeating these vermin.”

Then Legs spoke. “But...we fear the worst for Gregorex. He mounted Spartacus at about midnight...and started to heading toward the Great Swamp. The last time we saw him was...when he rode through the village gate. But a few minutes after he left, one of the sentries came running up to us. He said that he saw Spartacus trotting through the swamp...but that Gregorex was not on top of him. My dad and I immediately ran to see if we could find him anywhere, but he was nowhere to be seen. We’re afraid that he was either slain with an arrow, or captured.”

Samek grimly added, “So we’re not expecting a lot of help from Aberdeen. Spartacus will do what he can, but even if he manages to find someone, he won’t be able to tell them what kind of trouble we’re in.” He paused for a moment, bit his lip, and then said, “We’re going to have to fight this one...alone.”

Suddenly Andres had an idea. “Samek,” he said. “We’ve only got one chance.”

“Tell us, Your Majesty,” replied a Samek with some skepticism. “I’m out of ideas, and we’re about out of time.”

“We’ve got to attack,” declared Andres.

Samek just looked up. He didn’t say a word.

“Look--we can’t stay here,” Andres said. “When night falls, and we can no longer pick out the attackers as they advance, they are going to swarm all over the village. So we’ve got to do something now. And you know our enemies--these guys are brainless. They just do what their leader tells ‘em to do. Do you remember the hooded guy that’s standing next to the body that they claim is my father? Well, I’m betting that is Dor-ko himself. I think if we launch a swift attack and take him out, then maybe the whole wretched army will collapse.”

Samek turned to Pipes. “What do you think?” he asked.

“I think it’s crazy,” replied Pipes. “But it may also be our only chance. What we’re doing right now...well, we’ve killed a lot of them, but it’s not stopping anything.”

“And anyway,” said Andres. “If...if that really is my father, we need to go get him. We...we just can’t let him...stay out there. We just can’t.”

A brief silence followed. The exhausted warriors looked at one another as if looking for someone to make a decision. Soon Samek’s voice rose up. “The boy is right,” he said. “Look, those accursed flaming arrows will soon by sailing our way again. Most of us will need to stay and defend the village. But I’ll take Pipes and Legs and we’ll mount up and make a mad dash. With a little luck, we’ll make it through the enemy line, take out that hooded scoundrel, grab the body, and return with our heads still intact. It sounds crazy, but that’s only because it is. Let’s roll!”

Samek turned to head toward a covered stable, where some horses stood by. When he didn’t hear any footsteps behind him, he turned and groused, “Why aren’t you guys right behind me?”

Pipes grabbed Andres by the shoulder as he spoke up. “Samek...with all due respect, sir, we’ve got to let the prince come with us. After all...it is his father.”

Samek was indignant. Lowering his voice, he walked up to Pipes and said, “You know as well as I do that this is practically a suicide mission! There isn’t a single one of us that will make it back! I can’t do that to the one who might be the last living heir to the throne!”

Pipes replied in a calm, slow drawl. “Samek...if that was your wife out there, lying in a heap, could you imagine staying back here and letting someone else risk his life to rescue her? Because that’s what you’re expecting Andres to do. He’s a warrior, and he wants his father back. We’re all in danger this day, and not a single one of us may live to see the sun rise tomorrow. So let him come, Samek. We...we need him.”

For once, Samek held his tongue and looked around before he spoke. He looked in the eyes of Pipes, Legs, and Andres. All returned his gaze and nodded their heads. Samek then swallowed hard, nearly gagging in his parched throat. He whispered, “That settles it. Let’s go.”

The foursome proceeded to arm themselves for the assault. They decided to travel lightly, valuing speed and agility over all else. All they truly needed was some protection for the mad dash toward the hooded figure, and a weapon to slay him and his henchmen when they arrived. So they carried nothing but a shield and a sword. When all were armed and mounted, they trotted over to the gate. Samek gave the signal, and the guardian of the gate opened the doors. The warriors spurred their horses onward, and they flew through the gate as the wind whistles through a narrow alley. Soon they were heading straight toward the hooded figure. Samek was in the lead, with Andres following a few yards behind. Pipes rode to Andres’ left, while Legs rode to Andres’ right. Andres’ gaze was fixed on the mysterious body that lay in front of the hooded man. And as he stared ahead, he raised his shield to protect himself from the deadly hail of arrows that he was sure would be launched their way in a matter of seconds.

But two things surprised Andres as he surged forward. First, the hail of arrows never came. The archers of Dor-ko seemed to be so stunned by the sight of the men galloping straight at them that they just knelt and stared. To Andres, it seemed as though his world was moving at the speed of light, while the rest of the world moved in slow motion. And as he continued to ride, he was surprised to hear a sound to his rear. He quickly looked over his shoulder, and he was shocked to see someone actually riding behind him. The mysterious rider wore a mask, and he carried a shield in his left hand with a sword raised in his right hand. The sword swirled through the air as the rider gracefully galloped behind him. Andres couldn’t think of who it was. But then again, there really wasn’t much time to think. The hooded figure and his henchmen were now just about twenty yards away.

Soon, the five valiant riders closed the distance. Andres tried to head straight toward the hooded man, but he was quickly intercepted by the black knight to his right. Andres struck the first blow, nearly knocking the knight from his horse as he slashed downward with his sword. The knight quickly regained his balance and tried to counter-thrust, but Andres deftly blocked it with his shield. The two warriors then fought back and forth, with Andres getting closer and closer to the mark, and his enemy just barely managing to block his attacks. The thought came into Andres’ mind as he battled...this guy is nothing compared to Cable. Andres could see frustration mount in his foe’s face. But Andres also knew he must strike quickly, for he was feeling the weakening effects of a lack of food and water. When he saw his enemy turn his attention away ever so briefly, Andres reared back and thrust his sword into the man’s heart. The soldier silently fell off his horse and tumbled to the ground.

Andres then looked around and was amazed at what he saw. All of the hooded figure’s henchmen had been slain. The hooded figure had been struck down from atop his mount, and he lay down next to the mysterious enshrouded body. The masked man that had ridden behind Andres stood above the hooded figure, with his boot placed precariously on the hooded figure’s throat. Samek, Pipes and Legs were all still atop their horses, and they encircled the hooded figure and the masked man. Meanwhile, the battlefield beyond had grown eerily silent.

The masked man reached down and yanked off the hood of the figure who lay at his feet. Sure enough, it was the scarred face of Dor-ko. However, he did not have a face of fear; rather, he sneered and spat at his victor. “You are scum!” he cried out. “Who are you, who masks his face from his adversary? Unmask yourself!”

The victor obliged Dor-ko and pulled off his mask. Andres--along with everyone else--gasped. For it was not a man it all. It was a woman.

It was Annala.

Before anyone could utter a word, Annala put her sword to Dor-ko’s throat. “Four years ago, you ripped my mother and me from our home. I’ve escaped your pathetic hands, but I’ve not seen my mother ever since. I swear, if you’ve harmed her at all, I will stick the tip of my sword through your throat this very instant!”

Dor-ko didn’t flinch or blink. He just stared up and smiled. Annala pressed the tip of her sword into his neck and drew a drop of blood. Still, Dor-ko didn’t budge; he just continued to smile. Finally, he spoke. “It’s funny you should mention your mother,” he said. “Before you get too audacious with that sword of yours, I’d suggest that you open the body bag. You might be...interested in what you find.”

Andres vaulted off his horse and leaped toward the body bag. He deftly inserted the tip of his sword and ripped the bag open. To his great relief, there was not body in it whatsoever. There were just a few pillows that had been stuffed into the bag in order to give it some shape. However, there was something curious lying at the foot of the bag. Andres reached down and grabbed it.

“It’s a scroll,” Andres said.

“Unroll it and read it, O Prince,” growled Dor-ko. “I think that Samek will be interested in reading this note from...his lovely wife.” The sneering grin never left Dor-ko’s face as he spoke.

Andres glanced over at Samek. Samek just nodded, as if to give Andres the go-ahead to speak aloud. In the fading light of the setting sun, Andres read the following:

My dearest Samek-

Please forgive me if the handwriting is not very clear. I am writing this by candlelight, deep inside a cave that I was taken to by Lord Dor-ko. When I finish writing, Lord Dor-ko is going to snuff out the candle and abandon me. He tells me that he is the only one who knows where I am. If he doesn’t return to free me, then I will die, alone.

I just wanted you to know that not a day has gone by over the past 4 years that I’ve not thought of you, dreamed about you, and wept over our separation. The memories of our years together have been a daily source of treasure for me--the kind of treasure that can never be taken from me. Whatever happens, please know that I have been your faithful Susannah, and my heart will forever rest in your hands.

Before the light goes out, I have this poem to share:

So Love Abounds. You

Have Inflamed My

heart

today, even now.

trust me, believe me now,

Or Whenever Love

is seen.

Farewell.

Andres finished reading. There was a moment of silence, as the group slowly absorbed the message that had just been read. As Andres continued to fix his eyes on the note, Annala stepped away from Dor-ko and pulled back her sword. Dor-ko slowly rose to his feet and laughed.

“That’s right, Annala,” Dor-ko cried out, a trickle of blood spilling down his throat. “You will pay dearly for the blood you’ve shed, you miserable little whelp! The life of your beloved mother lies in my hands, and mine alone! For every drop of mine that is lost, your mother will lose tenfold!”

“Lead us to her this instant,” bellowed Samek, “or I’ll squash your pathetic head like a grape and squeeze the information out of you!”

“If you so much as lay a hand on me,” replied Dor-ko in a slow, steady tone, “you will never see your little woman again. She’s been sitting alone for a very, very long time. I might suggest that you surrender this very instant. If you do...well, I might just lead you to her cave. And she just might still be alive. And...and you can take her place. It’s you or her, Samek. Who will it be?”

Samek couldn’t respond. He wasn’t accustomed to feeling so powerless. As he paused, Dor-ko spoke again. “I can see by your silence that you are having a hard time surrendering. Let me see if I can help you with your decision.” Dor-ko then turned around and faced the woods that lay a couple of hundred yards behind him. He raised his right arm and yelled out, “Come! Come! Come!”

If Andres had let his eyes rise from the scroll, he would have seen hundreds of ghoulish figures emerge from the woods. Some were carrying swords, some were carrying scythes, and some were carrying nothing at all. Yet, armed or not, these creatures were utterly fearsome and loathsome.

If Andres had looked up, he would have seen all of the warriors--Samek, Pipes, Legs, and even Annala--drop their weapons. If he had looked in their eyes, Andres would have seen that each one of them had a look of surrender in his eyes. For none of them had ever seen creatures as ominous as this, which seemed to glide over the ground, relentless advancing and emanating fear with every step.

If Andres had turned his eyes from Susannah’s note, he would have seen his comrades slowly back away from Dor-ko and the advancing horde. If he had been listening, he would have heard Dor-ko declare, “Ladies and gentlemen, the creatures that you see before you are the souls of men that have turned their back on your detestable King Maximilian. They have given themselves to the relentless advancement of the kingdom of darkness--the kingdom of Dor-ko. There is nothing you can do to resist them. They have killed Cable, they are about to decimate your filthy village, and they will soon overrun the entire kingdom. You have two choices--surrender this instant, or be crushed a few instants later. What will it be?”

If Andres had been paying attention to anything but the scroll, he would have heard Dor-ko fill the air with a dreadful laughter that shook the souls of his friends, and filled the souls of the black knights with delight. He would have heard the black knights that remained on the field give a great shout. He would have seen them start to resume the battle against the Village of Cliffton with renewed vigor.

But Andres saw and heard none of this. He just couldn’t get his mind off the poem that was scrawled on the scroll that remained in his hands. But as his friends retreated, his enemies advanced, and Dor-ko gloated, Andres suddenly saw what he was looking for. He thrust the scroll in his pocket, grabbed his sword, and took two steps toward Dor-ko. The proud rogue was so entranced by his apparent triumph that he never even saw Andres move. Andres thrust the sword through Dor-ko’s heart. Dor-ko crumbled to the ground.

Before anyone could speak, Andres ran and mounted his horse. “Don’t blame me!” he cried. “Susannah told me to do it! Now let’s get back to the village and keep up the fight!”