Child of the Kindred, page 11
part #2 of The Rienfield Chronicles Series
“I shall leave you now to speak with him,” Milo said, as he and Norval began to walk towards the kitchen, only to be stopped by a mercenary grabbing Milo’s arm, and looking at him suspiciously.
“Tell me, old man. Why you be so eager to help us?” he asked with an angry tone and narrowed eyes.
“I am nothing more than a servant. I have served the former King and his spoilt brat daughter for many seasons, with little to show for it, and even less thanks from either of them. I only wish to be on the winning side,” Milo answered back, with a crafty grin, as the mercenary let go of his arm. “I must be on my way now. You shall all be wanting a fine meal when you return,” Milo answered, as he and Norval again, made their way towards the kitchen.
When they were finally out of hearing, Milo urged Norval to slip out the back way from the kitchen to the back garden, where Crayton was waiting for word as to when the time had arrived to inform the Prince.
“Before the sun sets tonight, my young friend, we will have our fair city back, and our beloved Princess will no longer be a prisoner. Now hurry, there is no more time to waste,” Milo instructed in low voice, as Norval then hurriedly left for the back garden.
Warrick and his company of more than thirty mercenaries, including Coire, were now upon their horses. Warrick looked up at the tower steps for a moment, then pointed at one of the mercenaries.
“Go and inform the Guard Logan to bring the Princess with us. I wish for her to watch you all enjoy yourselves with her maidservant, and her beloved Ollams, then to watch their House burn. You two, go and get torches, this will indeed be a day none will forget,” Warrick, ordered with a hideous laugh, his eyes full of mad anticipation.
Within a short time, Laurel was directed down the stairway by Logan, as they both looked at Warrick in surprise and dread.
“What is it that you want now, swine?” Laurel asked him, with open hatred.
“I have a special morning planned for you, my pet. Your dear Tulla has suddenly become quite brave, thinking she is safe from me by taking sanctuary with your Ollams. You are all in for a very rude awakening. Once you watch my men have their fun with Tulla, she will die. I will then have the House of Healing burned down, perhaps with your precious Ollams burned alive with it. The urchins will be slaughtered like lambs, upon the wall, for the barbarians to see. That is when you will renounce your loyalty to your beast from the West, and to Heathwin, then acknowledge my sovereignty over Gwenlais,” Warrick declared with an evil grin.
“No…no you cannot do this! Have you not destroyed enough lives? You are a disgusting coward! My Prince will soon take back Gwenlais, and he will rip you and your filth apart! He will not show you any mercy,” Laurel screamed out in her rage and despair, Logan noticing some of the mercenaries looking worried and disturbed at her words.
“That is enough!” Logan yelled at Laurel, grabbing her arm roughly as he dragged her backwards, turning them both, so his back was to the group and Warrick. “You will stop this disrespectful outburst,” Logan continued to rebuke Laurel, though his face and eyes, begged her to calm down, shaking his head ever so slightly.
Laurel at first looked at him in shocked confusion, then quiet recognition, as she closed her eyes for a moment, nodding back at him in acknowledgement. Logan then exhaled slowly, as he turned to face Warrick, who was looking at him, suspiciously.
“As much as I understand your need to demonstrate your power and authority sire, I do however feel it is a risk, in bringing the Princess with you. She is still a valuable asset and will be the only thing holding the barbarians back. She could become harmed in the confusion,” Logan reasoned in a calm and low voice.
Warrick smiled slightly, his eyes glinting wickedly, noticing that Logan still kept Laurel behind him.
“That is precisely why you will be accompanying us. You will make sure nothing happens to our…asset. In fact, you will guard her with your life, for if anything should befall her, you will beg to die, before I finish with you. Now put her on that horse with you, and let us go awaken the Ollams,” Warrick grinned with an evil smugness.
As they made their way down the road to the House of Healing, they moved slowly as the mist was still very thick, only enabling them to see several feet in front of them. Logan leant forward to speak to Laurel, as they rode behind Warrick and most of the mercenaries.
“Do not despair, my dear Princess. The children and Tulla are not there. The Guards are waiting for Warrick’s arrival. This is all part of the plan that is unfolding. The very plan your Prince devised. You, however, were not in the equation. You were supposed to remain in the tower for your safety. Stay close to me, and whatever happens, I will protect you. Say no more, and do not let the wretch bait you, as I will speak for you. You will see and hear things that will be very confusing and disturbing, but you must trust me. Trust in your beloved, my Lady, he is coming for you,” Logan whispered as he looked over at one of the mercenaries, watching them.
“I do Logan. I trust you both,” Laurel whispered back, her head bowed slightly, feeling his arm tighten around her for a moment in reassurance.
“You may begin your assault Sire. I have no doubt Warrick has arrived, as he was leaving the castle while I was on my way to you. The signal was given; the rest is now in your hands. May the Maker bless you and the King and your valiant men this day. It will be a day long remembered Sire, by both our Kingdoms. The day we joined together as brothers and reclaimed what was taken from us. The day Heathwin and Gwenlais united, together in triumph. I now will join my men at the House of Healing, by way of the Ollam meadow. Success and victory to you Sire,” Crayton, said clasping Caleb’s arm, his voice full of confidence, his eyes bright, showing the strength and passion of a much younger man.
Deaglan smiled at his beloved grandfather, with pride in his eyes.
“Success and victory to you as well, my friend. When you hear the pipes and drums, you will know it has begun,” Caleb replied, his face not hiding his admiration or gratitude for the former Captain of the Guards.
Crayton, nodded his head, then turning his mount disappeared into the forest.
Caleb then smiled knowingly at Aiden and Deaglan, as they turned their mounts to the wall. Caleb nodded over to Owain, who nodded back to him, then galloped away from the wall towards the glen where the Armies of Heathwin awaited out of sight.
“Come, my brothers, let us wake our friends on the wall,” Caleb remarked as he tightened the leather laces of his gambeson.
“Gates be locked, Warrick! It will take some time, the whole bloody thing be walled in,” Coire growled as they reached the House of Healing.
“Must I tell you everything, you idiot?! Cut down a tree and make a battering ram. We have torches, set the gate ablaze first, it is only made of wood,” Warrick yelled back, in frustration, his temper overwhelming him again.
“Ya heard the dandy, maggots. Get to chopping!” Coire bellowed out to the others, a dozen men got off their horses to do his bidding.
While they laboured hurriedly, Warrick and Coire looked around, hearing another sound coming from the city.
“What is that sound? It is almost as if some kind of music is playing,” Warrick asked, for just a moment his face filled with trepidation.
“It is the morning music that is played in the city, just before the merchants open their shops. It seems sire, the city is finally accepting their new ruler. It is only a matter of time before you will soon receive what you so richly deserve,” Logan explained as he smiled, hiding the hatred fighting to explode within him.
Laurel, glanced up at him for just a moment seeing the passion in his eyes, that he quickly contained, as his eyes met hers for only an instant.
Warrick began to laugh giddily, clapping his hands, as if applauding, several times. He then looked over at Laurel, his eyes filled with unhidden lust.
“Well my dear, your people have accepted their fate. Soon, you will do the same, once of course, I rid my kingdom of the trouble makers. Hurry up you fools! The day is in our favour!” Warrick yelled out, then laughing again, in a fit of joyous delusion.
“Wake up, you worthless buggers, wake up!” the mercenary called out to the others on the wall. “What is that noise? Why would the savages be playing music?” he asked in a quieter voice, tinged with fear as they all began to stir and move towards the front of the wall.
Several of them looked over warily, the mist still present but starting to thin. At first, they could not quite make out what they were seeing, but within moments, the eyes of the men on the wall filled with fear. In front of them, shapes appeared almost like apparitions, marching forward and holding strange instruments, which made haunting sounds as if wailing in mourning. They were closely followed by figures with drums, strapped to their chests, beating out a rhythm that seemed to beat in time with their own hearts, feeling as if it would crush them. Then without warning as they appeared almost noiselessly, a vast number of horsemen began to ride forward, their faces hidden in the hoods of their cloaks, making it even more surreal and terrifying. The number of riders seemed without end as they continued to ride forward, at a steady but unhurried gait, nearing ever closer to the wall. The dreamlike scene continued to unfold in front of them. The mercenaries stood transfixed, many of them now moving even closer, becoming morbidly fascinated.
Suddenly, a lone tall hooded figure, walked his h orse in front of the vast company, coming from in front of the wall, holding up his hand. It fell instantly silent, only the nickering of horses, their hooves anxiously pawing the ground, could be heard.
The tall figure then began to speak in a loud, clear voice, the language that could not be understood by the mercenaries, as the words seemed to flow together and follow a distinct rhythm.
“Brothers! Today we take back, what was taken from us! Today the swine that have taken the lives of those we hold dear will have their lives taken from them. Today they will feel the wrath of Heathwin! Savages! Barbarians! Beasts, they call us. They have yet to see why we are called thus. They would dare mock us, threaten the life of our Treasure, your Princess, holding her on the wall, like a meagre trinket, to toy with us? Are we mere dogs, to be cowed and subdued, by using my beloved, your future Queen, as a prize, they threaten to withhold from us?!” the tall figure shouted out to the crowd in front of him. They answered in a single voice, that shook the very air, “Aon!”
The figure then turned and looked up on the wall, staring for an endless moment, as he watched the men on the wall gathering and becoming more bewildered and frantic, as some of them began to cry out, bemoaning their fate.
“Then let it begin. Victory be ours!” the lone figured shouted out, as he unsheathed his sword, raising it high, again the voices joining him as one.
“Bua a linne! Bua a linne! Bua a linne!” the voices cried out in unison, followed by the pounding of the drums, and swords hitting shields in time, the terrifying battle cry being echoed throughout the city, drifting up to the castle. Those that could hear the cries from inside of their homes moved to back rooms, huddled together, comforting their children, telling them soon it would be over. The Guards that had mingled together in the group of mercenaries, that were throughout the city, began to separate from amongst the ruffians. Walking in the still dark corners of the seemingly sleeping city, to meet in the designated place until it was time to fight back.
Warrick and his group, paying little heed, as they were too intent in their efforts to break down the dense wooden gates to the House of Healing. With each pound of the felled tree, used as a battering ram on the gates, the sound of the impending battle was muffled to them.
However, the sound rang loud and clear, to those who waited for it patiently by the back gate of the castle.
“It has begun!” Cahir shouted out to his men when suddenly six Sentinels with crossbows stepped forward.
They fired together through the heavy barred gate, killing six of the mercenaries instantly, causing the others of the group to yell out in confusion and panic.
“Angus now!” Cahir yelled out once again, as he ran up to the gate.
Without warning, the young brawny Sentinel along with his group of over twenty Sentinels and Guards, that had been slipped in, and hiding in the shadows, came charging out of the back garden. Brandishing swords and yelling out they rushed upon the dazed and confused mercenaries that still remained by the back garden gate, dispatching them in a short time. Angus roughly shoved a dead body off his sword, then ran over to unbar the gate, allowing in Cahir’s full command of more than five hundred Sentinels.
“No mercy will be shown until most of the muc are dead! Search the entire castle, leave no room untouched! Remember, some servants still remain. Now let us rid the castle of their filth,” Cahir ordered, cutting down two mercenaries that ran up to him as he charged forward
Soon, the Sentinels and Guards were in pursuit of the mercenaries that remained in the castle and courtyards. The hired ruffians soon realised, that to stand and fight was pointless, the only chance of survival was to flee.
Some of the men on the wall began to run to the only staircase near, fighting and cursing at each other to make their way down. Their attention was drawn to the crowd outside of the wall once again when it became unexpectedly silent. They all stopped and looked at each other, their faces still showing their panic and confusion.
“They just be standing there. Looking up at us,” one of the thugs whispered, in a shaking tone.
“What are they doing? Wait, wait, they are moving about. There is a good group getting off their horses, and standing in a line,” another croaked out in a strained voice.
“Get out of the way, let me see,” another angrily demanded as he moved closer to the edge of the wall, peering over carefully. “Do not just be standing there,” he yelled back at the others. “All of ya with a crossbow, fire at the bastards.”
Aiden stepped forward, being handed his longbow by Ione, who took her place beside him. An archer yelled out in pain, as he fell to the ground, an arrow from the crossbow of one of the mercenaries, struck his shoulder. Two sentinels ran forward to his aid, moving him out of the line. In an instant, shield bearers with shields as wide and tall as the bearers themselves moved forward. Aiden gave the command to kneel, as the archers readied their bows.
The mercenaries then began to throw anything they could from off of the wall, the shield bearers moving back slowly and in unison with the line of crouching archers. They moved back far enough to no longer be in the direct range of the hurtling objects. The mercenaries began to cheer, thinking they once again had gained the advantage.
“Ha!! What you be thinking of that you bloodthirsty bastards!” the mercenary who had shot the archer, shouted out as he stood up laughing and mocking, yelling out obscenities.
The answer came with the sound of a sharp hiss, the mercenary yelling out in pain for only a moment, then falling backwards, an arrow piercing his chest. The others stopped mocking as they looked at him, his face still contorted with his laughter.
They then looked forward, hearing Aiden shout the command to fire, as the archers stood in unison, unleashing their arrows at the same time. The air filled with the sound of hissing, those upon the wall, looking up to see a cloud of death descending upon them. All those that remained on the front of the wall lay dead or dying, as the others scrambled further across the parapet, or fighting to make their way down the narrow staircase. The sound of the pipes and drums began once again, then fell to a dead silence. Several mercenaries that still remained trapped on the open parapet looked towards the wall, wondering what next, the Westerners would unleash upon them.
“By the Maker. What…what is that?” one of them asked, pointing to the open area beyond the city’s gates.
Those who were left on the wall stared ahead in the direction of where their fellow was pointing. Through the mist, they could see the shape of a large animal moving in a slow, steady way, its strength and power obvious, with each step it took. A large burly figure walked beside it, soon others followed directly behind them, powerful, stealthy, and graceful, as they walked with purposeful strides toward the wall. There were now thirteen of the Scimitars standing, spread out before the wall, all looking up, patiently waiting to be summoned to pursue their quarry. Their muscles rippled in anticipation of the hunt, their large regal heads raised upward, taking in the new scents that surrounded them, enticing them to begin their pursuit. Chieftain McCullan’s queen, Neala, was the oldest Hunter and Scimitar female, still used in service to the Sentinels. She was also the mother, of half of the Scimitar cats that were present. Neala knew her purpose and knew it so well, McCullan only needed to use his bracer to control the stones implanted, to give the command to watch and halt. The pursue and kill commands needed no further prompting. McCullan gave one final look at the wall then gave the order to the other Keepers with him, to give the watch command, to their Hunters. Rian and the other Keepers with him raised their left arms slightly, as they reached over with their right hands and touched the gold stone, instantly all thirteen great cats, crouched down, letting out deep guttural growls, their eyes intense and fixated upon the wall. Those who were watching from the top of the wall, moved backwards, drawing whatever weapon they had, others were still struggling to make their way down the staircase, as the bodies of those who died during the first assault were blocking the way. Many of the mercenaries who remained in the city, were now hurriedly running into the main square trying to prepare for the onslaught they knew awaited them, though now panic-stricken, many drunk or hungover from their constant demand for drink, and endless ransacking of shops and what homes were in the city. The mercenaries began to run about almost blindly, as no one was able to take charge, only arming themselves as best they could. Some attempted to light fires, but they did not have much success, as the mist turned into a steady rain. All stopped in their tracks as the sound of a single horn blast was heard. Then the roars of mighty and frightening beasts could be heard from outside of the gates. Suddenly, the mercenaries in the city square, found themselves being attacked from all directions, by some of those they thought were in their company, only to discover it was the Gwenlais Guards who had infiltrated their group. Those on the wall had no idea where to go or where to focus their attentions, as fierce fighting could be heard below in the city, and the sound of the Hunters roaring just over the wall.
