Revelyn: 1st Chronicles - When the last arrow falls (74 page)

BOOK: Revelyn: 1st Chronicles - When the last arrow falls
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The King swore and did his best to return his previous state of mind, but he could not. Once more it seemed that Zelfos understood some deeper things which passed him by. With another loud oath he called for his commander and in short time the giant Leander was before him.

 

*

 

Rema laid out his plan. The others listened in silence and slowly came to see the genius of it. There was no dissent and it was agreed. Anderlorn stood with Sylvion. The pair had met the night before with some little awkwardness, but both had soon won the other’s respect and knew that the battle before them would, if won, set right past troubles and deep sorrows. On it hung the hopes of all in Revelyn who wished for peace and justice. They had both pledged service to this great cause and to a lasting peace between their peoples henceforth.  But each knew that much sorrow must come to pass before they could finally set to right what history had left in its wake.

Goodman Cantor was there and three of his best riders, Griffin, Remur and the wonderfully graceful Clarynda were to lead the highlanders. Reigin too was to ride with them. His unmatched ability would make the difference in the dangerous task which Rema had set them.

Cordia and Rhynos had petitioned Elder Anderlorn to ride with the
Edenwhood
, and they too were present. Cordia stood with Reigin and the delight each had with the other was obvious to all despite the coming battle.

Scion and Ofeigr stood side by side and listened in sombre silence.  Serenna stood alone. She grieved for many things, but knew in her heart that her grief would be greatly multiplied that day or the next, but her heart was steadfast in resolve. She would give of her best and accept the death which was to come. Her eyes caught Rema’s at the end of his speaking, as he stood up and took breath and waited for a challenge to his plan. None came, and he saw this lovely friend of his childhood and his youth watching him. She smiled in such a beautiful way, and her eyes seemed full of tears and sorrow. He smiled back and nodded. He was about to say some words of encouragement for he knew she was deeply sad and he feared for her, but Sylvion was then at his side and took his arm as though she wanted his attention. When he turned back Serena was no longer watching.

‘I will do as you say Rema,’ Sylvion spoke quietly, ‘but I know that this blade I wield will turn the battle for us. You must let me use it and not wait till we have lost too many good men.’

Rema held her hands. ‘Sylvion I will not let you be lost. We fight for you. If you die then there is no other to take the throne. You will use the blade, but how it works when all about can be held in its thrall, both ours and theirs causes me great disquiet. I ask that you do not use it before I give the order.’ He looked deep into her eyes and saw her struggle with this authority, but with an effort she saw the wisdom of his words and so agreed.

‘I will wait for your command Rema,’ she replied, but in that moment he suddenly doubted her ability to do so. She continued as he struggled with this thought. ‘I fear for my
Equin
now. I will lead them out. They have need of my presence, of this I am sure.’

‘You will lead them out.’ Rema agreed. ‘But then Sylvion you must let them go.’ And so he stood tall and spoke for the final time to those who waited for his command.

‘Come, let us go to war and give of our best. The cause is just.’ He held his strange bow above his head, and spoke with a powerful conviction.

‘For Revelyn, AlGiron and Queen Sylvion. For Justice and better times for us all.’

Then they all held their weapons aloft and gave a great cry, repeating some of Rema’s fine words as they saw fit. And so it was sealed. Though small in number they would go to war against the greatest army which any in the land had seen or dreamt of in half an age, and dark and evil forces which had never been known since Revelyn had existed.

 

*

 

‘Captain Leander, what knowledge of our enemy?’ King Petros inquired of his giant commander, as he stood once more before his tent having just taken some small refreshment. He was looking out across the plains which stretched off to the east all the way to the Eastern Upthrust which stood quite clearly before them. He turned to face Leander who saluted in the manner of all Revelyn soldiers in the field, bringing a right fisted hand across his chest to a place above the heart.

‘We are well presented desire, and ready for battle. The enemy, if one can call them that, or perhaps some part of those that oppose us are at present hidden in the ruins of Fellonshead. Two gatherers spied them out last night. One did not return. The force there is small but has some creatures amongst it which the gatherers could not properly explain.’ He was about to continue when the King’s steward, ever vigilant, interrupted.

‘Excuse me sira but the enemy has taken the field.’

Both Petros and Leander turned to face the plain. In the distance below the ruins of Fellonshead a small force had emerged and was taking position opposite them.

‘Distance Leander?’ Petros demanded.

‘Less than three leagues from where we stand my Lord, about one and half from our front line. Well out of arrow range at this moment.’ The commander eyed the enemy and made quick and accurate judgement of numbers and distances.

‘Mostly foot soldiers at present. Now some creatures. Not horses.’ He paused then swore softly, not in fear but amazement. ‘They are cats, bigger than the sabrecat, much bigger, as big as a horse. Never seen such a creature desire. They are ridden. Fearful beasts.’

All in the king’s vast army watched with curiosity but little fear as the force opposite them slowly took up position. They felt confident in their great numbers despite the strange foe which confronted them. Until one sharp eyed Lancer who was closer than the rest suddenly cried out.

‘They are
Wolvers
, all of them
Wolvers!
’ A ripple of fear ran through the front lines and was transmitted like a pebble thrown into a pond throughout the other waiting soldiers who could not see so clearly.

This news was quickly relayed to their commander who informed he king.

‘Those at the front line claim that the enemy are all
Wolvers
desire.’ He spoke in a voice of disbelief for he could not understand how this could be.


Wolvers
Leander!’ King Petros shook his head. ‘Surely they are mistaken?’ Neither spoke but Zelfos appeared and stood with them. He too had heard this news and knew immediately what it meant.

‘It is as I feared Sire,’ he hissed. The
skolar
once told me that the
Edenwhood
are
Wolvers
or more likely the
Wolvers
are of the
Edenwhood.’

‘You did not think to inform me of this Zelfos? Petros demanded angrily of his advisor who retorted immediately.

‘You were never interested in my dealings with the
skolar
sire, and I seem to remember that very recently when I suggested that the
Edenwhood
might play a part you scoffed at my remarks.’ Zelfos’ agitation was clear to all for he was deeply disturbed by this confirmation of his suspicion which had tormented him since the eagles were first observed circling high above their encampments.

The whole army of the King watched in silent awe as their enemy took up position less than half a league before their front lines of lancers, for whilst they were small in number they were an impressive sight indeed.

And when they were ready, they waited. Unmoving in the warm sunshine of the midmorn, the two armies watched each other and waited. Even the giant and ferocious scythercats stood like statues awaiting their rider’s command to charge into battle.

  The King’s lancers made sure that their weapons were secure and that the holes dug into the rich dirt beneath their feet to hold their base were strong and firm.

 

*

 

Rema rode his horse alone some distance out into the open ground before his strange army, where he was quickly noticed and within a moment Lord Petros Luminos, King of Revelyn, Lord of Light, knew that at last he looked upon the man for whom he had searched so long. Whilst the King swore loudly at his arrogant temerity, and cursed him with every oath he knew, Rema dismounted, and taking a single arrow from his full quiver strode further out onto the battlefield.

‘He comes at me with no more than three hundred men!’ The King spoke as if insulted. ‘We are six thousand strong and he would challenge me with this!’ and then in relief he began to laugh. Those soldiers standing near laughed too although their giant commander stood like stone waiting for what might happen next.

It was the king’s steward whose keen eyes once more saw what this would be.

‘He is going to shoot an arrow sire.’ He spoke as though he were watching a village spectacle.

‘Can he reach the Lancers Leander?’ the king asked in disbelief.

‘Half a league, it is a long shot sire, but with luck it will land before them. They have no need to fear.’ And the Commander spoke truly; Rema was not interested in the Lancers for he could see the King and the huge Commander standing far back behind his front line.  Their position was well situated to see all the battle, and so all on the field could see them.

Rema flexed his arms and turned his body so that his left side faced his enemy. He planted both feet about the width of his shoulders apart and by moving them a little settled them firm upon the earth. The arrow which was longer than all the others he took in his right hand and placed its point between his eyes. He whispered quietly to it, as though they shared some strange bond, and so in some mysterious way he placed his mind’s eye upon the tip and it rested there.

He laid the arrow on the bow which he held in his fully extended left arm, locked straight and firm at the elbow.  Tilting the bow to a vertical position he drew until his fingers at the string reached his cheek. With a slow and mighty effort he bent the bow still further until the tip of the arrow reached the bow itself and his fingers on the string were a hands span behind his head. He aimed high above the enemy and did not need to sight beyond a simple glance to confirm his direction was nearly straight.

And then he let the mighty arrow fly. None could see it go, although those who watched saw clear enough the string spring back and the bow straighten.

‘He has fired sire,’ the keen-eyed steward said.

‘Has he hit anything?’ The King asked of any who might have seen the arrow land.

No answer came.

The arrow went high, way up into the air and reached its apex well beyond the lancers far below. Rema stood like a statue and concentrating deep within his mind saw an army appear below as the arrow bent back towards the earth. He was too far left for a gentle breeze had pushed his arrow a little off the course, and so with his mind he bent it back until in his sights from arrow tip to ground he saw the King, the one for whom he had sent it forth. He knew that it would land short for the distance was far greater than he had ever before sent an arrow; with all his might by mystery and power of mind he willed it on. It travelled like a blur, so fast that it was invisible to all, except one; Zelfos the sorcerer saw the merest flash as it closed upon the king. He had not time to speak but knew with a sudden realisation that the archer of the prophecy was one to be feared in the flesh, and not just in words.

The arrow, now spent, suddenly appeared with a sharp crack as if by magic, standing in the ground a single pace before the king. It quivered once and then was still as a grim realisation dawned upon the mad ruler of the land. He jumped back in alarm as Leander swore in muted admiration.

And then they heard the thunder.

They felt it first but didn’t realise. The ground shook slightly as the first wave of sound reached them. All six thousand men who waited eagerly to lay waste to the small strange foe which challenged them, felt the approaching storm.

Then suddenly the rumble turned to a great pounding roar and there before them, led swiftly by a small slight woman on a beautiful grey horse was the terrible sight of threescore horses so enormous and powerful that the battlefield shook with the falling of their mighty hooves. They swept out of the forest by the ruins of Fellonshead, and charged full and angry and unafraid towards the vast army which stretched across the plains before them. At their head, galloping effortlessly beside the woman on her smaller grey steed was a huge white stallion who seemed to glow pure dazzling white in the sunlight. All who watched froze in fear and amazement at the awesome spectacle, and then Leander leapt into action.

‘Lancers ready and archers will fire on my command.’ He had no time to be amazed as the king and Zelfos were, for he knew his job despite the incomprehensible force which rushed toward him.

The command was relayed quickly to the Lancers who as one all raised their mighty spears to form an impenetrable wall of death. The archers in perfectly rehearsed unison let fly four quick volleys of arrows which went high up into the sky and then rained two thousand points of death upon the galloping horses which had almost closed upon their enemy.

As the
Equin
approached the lancers’ spears Sylvion reined in her mount and cried loud,

‘Go well dear friends!’ and then she let them fly on without her as Thunder gave a mighty neigh which carried full and fearfully to those who waited in defence.

The arrows hit their marks with sharp cracks and thuds all along the line of charging
Equin
, but as if by magic they remained but a short time within the flesh and were dislodged easily by the rapidly moving steeds and no lasting harm was done except for Sylvion’s mount Lightfoot which was hit twice, in the neck and rump and staggered round in an agony of pain. Sylvion was not harmed although Rema cursed loudly when he saw how far her foolhardiness had taken her. And she too suddenly realised that what she had done might yet cost the life of her beloved horse.

The
Equin
reached the Lancers in a line, and there, as if they were as one all crouched upon their haunches without any loss of speed and leapt into the air. The Lancers had never prepared for such an attack, for such a charging mass of pure energy. They lifted their lances to meet the charge but the mighty Equin sailed clear above them and only one or two of all the thousand spears made any contact with these mighty beasts which landed amidst their enemy and crushed and maimed most fearfully all who were before them. And they did not halt but charged on, right through the waiting soldiers whose swords were no weapon against such as these. The sounds of mangled and dying men mixed with the thunderous hooves as they charged deeper into the ranks of an enemy who was now unsure of what action next to take.

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