Chapter 45 - Leading the Charge

From the ramparts of Cliffton, Andres continued to stare out at the battlefield that was taking shape in front of him. His father remained still, facing the enemy, his sword held aloft. Other white knights flanked him, to his right and to his left, likewise poised for battle. The enemy forces to their front continued their raucous jeering and laughter. The ghastly creatures that Andres had first seen earlier that evening seemed to be floating through the air, encircling the city, cloaking the night sky with a heavy blackness. Though it was difficult to see, Andres figured that at least fifteen ranks of the enemy surrounded the city. And as far as Andres could tell, their weapons were all aimed at him.

But yet his father, King Maximilian, remained unmoved. He was a step in front of everyone else, armed with nothing but a sword, yet he was fearless. The sounds of the enemy intensified, and it even seemed as though they’d started to advance. But Maximilian never flinched, never wavered, never cowered. At that moment, his father was an absolute giant in his mind. He’d never felt so proud of his father in all his life, staring down an enemy that had the power to crush him, yet dared not.

Then his father did move. While he kept his sword held aloft and pointed toward the enemy, he turned back toward the walls of Cliffton to face Andres and the other warriors. With his other hand, he gently beckoned for the men to come down. Above the din of the enemy’s roar, he bellowed, “Come down and join me! There is a battle to be fought and a victory to be won!”

Somehow, his words penetrated through the thick night air and penetrated to the ears and hearts of every Cliffton soldier. Slowly and somewhat hesitantly, the men left their posts and began to file out. Andres followed Thomas, the once-fearful soldier who had regained his courage at the sight of the king. As they neared the city gate, Andres noticed Thomas stop for a moment. Thomas looked up and saw a soldier still standing atop the scaffolding, refusing to leave his post and come down.

“Hey Stu, what’re you doin’ up there?” Thomas asked. It didn’t take Andres long to remember who Stu was. He was a fierce soldier who’d been at his best in the thick of the battle. He’d stood tall near the city gate, repelling every enemy thrust to try and enter the city. And earlier in the evening, when Andres and the others had made their mad dash back to the city walls after the confrontation with Dor-ko, Stu had been the one to risk his own life to open the gate. He was fearless. Why then was he so hesitant to come?

As these memories rolled through Andres’ brain, Stu continued to stand unmoving atop the scaffolding. So Thomas called out again, “What’re you waitin’ for, Stu? Let’s go!”

Now Stu moved. He turned to Thomas and replied, “Look...I just can’t do it. I just can’t leave! This is my post! I can’t abandon it!”

“But Stu,” Thomas replied, “the king is calling for us!”

Stu shook his head. “I know, I know. But he’s the king! He’s got the greatest warriors in the land by his side! Does he really need us? Does he really need me?”

Thomas answered, “Need? What does that have to do with anything? Of course he doesn’t need us. Like you said, he’s the king! But he wants us. And that’s enough for me.” Then turning back to Andres, Thomas cried out, “Let’s go and stick it to these guys!” And with that, Andres grabbed a hold of his shield and rushed out through the gates and toward his father.

When Andres came within a few feet of his father’s horse, he looked up and saw that his father was staring right at him. His right hand still held the sword high, and his left hand pointed toward Andres and waved him over to the left side of the horse. Andres slowly approached the horse, not knowing what to expect. The king then reached down to Andres and grasp his hand. He pulled upward, and in an instant Andres sat behind his father astride his great white horse.

“You’ve done well, my son,” said Maximilian, facing back toward the enemy.

“Thanks, Dad,” was all Andres could reply. He could feel a sense of fear creeping back into his soul as he stared out at rank upon rank of the enemy. All the weakness that he’d felt just a few minutes before--the hunger, the parched throat, the scars from battle--came rushing back. He felt completely inadequate to even stay atop the horse, let alone fight a battle.

Then Maximilian’s voice pierced through his feelings. “Son...reach up and take the sword,” he said. Andres reached around his father with his right hand and grabbed the hilt, just above where his father’s hand rested.

“Careful, son,” his father said. “Don’t move an inch. The men are watching you with their eyes on your sword. Be steady. Be courageous.” And with those words, Maximilian took his hand off the sword and then slipped off the horse.

Andres didn’t dare to move. He held the sword up, even though it felt as though it weighed a hundred pounds. He then said, still staring at the enemy, his voice wavering just a bit, “What are you doing, Dad?”

“Andres, you have been a great warrior today. I know what you did to Dor-ko. You were the only one who was able to fight through the fear and attack the enemy. Now it’s time to finish them off. You’ve earned the right to lead the men. Now when the time comes, you must lead the men to battle.”

“But Father--I can’t do this! I’m too weak, and too small, and too young. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that your whole life has prepared you for this moment.”

“How will I know when the time comes?”

“Don’t worry, son. You’ll know. Your brother will let you know.”

Andres thought about that for a second. He asked, “What does Cable have to do with this? Is he okay? How is he going to let me know anything? What are you talking about?” The questions started flowing, and the more he thought, the more questions he had. But he received only silence in return.

Finally, Andres allowed himself to turn his upper body around, being careful to not move his right arm. He saw his father walking away, back toward the city gates. With what little strength was left in his voice, Andres cried out, “Where are you going?”

His father stopped and turned. Evidently, he was willing to answer this question. “I need to see your sister, Andres,” he replied. “She has been brave, and she needs me as much as you do. Now face the enemy and prepare to fight!” And with those words, King Maximilian turned back toward the village.

Andres obediently faced the enemy once again. Hundreds of thoughts flooded his mind. If I need you as much as Remma does, why do you leave me to fight? Why am I the one that has the impossible job? I’m just a kid--how am I supposed to lead an army into battle? Does my father have any idea what he’s doing?

Andres wanted to crumble under the weight of self-pity. Yet as he looked to his right and to his left, he saw that everyone was looking at him. They needed him to be strong; they needed him to lead the way. Andres realized that if he faltered now, hundreds of others would fall with him. That realization alone kept him atop the horse and facing the enemy.

Then--after what seemed like a few minutes or a few hours, Andres couldn’t tell--a flash of light in the distance caught Andres’ attention. Andres felt a rumbling under the feet of his horse, as though the ground was rocked by a great explosion, or by a gentle earthquake. Seconds later, a great trumpet sound filled the air. The sound started quietly, but gradually rose till it completely drowned out the sound of the enemy. As the trumpet’s blare grew louder, the ground began to shake even more. Andres’ anticipation grew; it was all he could do to keep the sword held high. Finally the sound stopped. A silence gradually descended upon the battlefield.

Andres then realized two things. First, he noticed that the enemy’s noisy jeering had completely stopped. Second, as he stared up into the night, he noticed that the black veil that had seemed to cloak the night sky was lifted. The air seemed lighter, and the stars seemed brighter. The crescent moon, which had been barely visible earlier, now cast a glow over the battlefield. As Andres looked out, he thought he noticed a trembling in his enemy.

Andres didn’t know what his brother had to do with it. But he knew it was time. He swallowed hard, lowered the sword and spurred on his horse. He took a step forward. The white knights to his right and to his left moved forward in unison. Mustering his courage, Andres cried out, “Charge!” The other knights, in full-throated yell, echoed Andres’ call. Their cries not only filled the battlefield, but they filled the men with courage as well. As one, the army of Maximilian--following Andres’ lead--galloped toward the enemy.