Child of the Kindred, page 12
part #2 of The Rienfield Chronicles Series
“Take out your weapons! They have brought their beasts!” one of the mercenaries yelled out, as he backed further away, drawing his short sword and dagger.
“Calm down the lot of you! They cannot scale the walls; we panic then we all die. We will go further over to the back. Do not be rushing down the stairs you bloody fools! Can you not hear the fighting down in the city? Once inside the gates, the accursed Prince and his Sentinels will be too busy with killing those poor blighters. We will wait and then make our escape right under their noses. Let them have their pathetic city. We will all find work elsewhere. So best we just stay put,” a large, and particularly gruesome looking thug barked out, attempting to take charge.
“I heard they leave no survivors. I be guessing, that is why they brought their wretched Scimitars. We all be sitting ducks up here, just waiting for them to feed us to the bloody cats of theirs. I will take my chances in the city,” the mercenary who first shouted out the warning replied, as he made his way down the narrow staircase.
“Good, let the fool go! We will wait till the noise moves on. We will not last a blink if we leave now. Stop your pathetic whining and carrying on. For the time being, we will be fine if you pathetic idjits shut up, and quiet down. We are up and away from all the fighting, what is the worst that can happen?” the large mercenary asked as he turned his back from the wall to face the group in front of him.
No sooner did he ask his question, when a deafening roar was heard, the sound of scraping, and then in an instant, the Scimitar Neala, leapt over the wall, lunging her full length and landing on the mercenary. His cries of terror and pain, over in a heartbeat, as the mighty Scimitar ripped his head away. The others on the wall, screamed out in terror as Neala charged towards them, soon followed by the other twelve huge cats. Two grappling hooks were then thrown upon the wall, and in a short time, both Ranulf and his brother Cian climbed over the wall. Stopping to look briefly over at the carnage taking place on the far end of the parapet, then looking at each other with faces of repugnance, they then made their way hurriedly down the staircase. Swords drawn, they ran over to the gate, their long wild red hair, flying behind them. They stopped in disbelief, to find a large hay waggon had been turned over blocking their way to open the gate for Caleb and the waiting army. Climbing over the waggon, they pressed themselves against the gate bracing their legs against the large and heavy waggon, in attempts to turn it back over. The barred portion of the city gates, allowed the army to see the chaos that was ensuing from the Guards, engaging the mercenaries. The Guards were beginning to lose ground as they were still outnumbered. Caleb, Aiden, Deaglan, and their original Patrol were the first at the gates, and to see Ranulf and Cian struggling to overturn the waggon.
“Ranulf! Cian! What is taking you halfwits so long? Hurry up, before I reach in there, and wring your necks!” Caleb yelled, in anger a nd frustration.
“Well as much as you think it helps, threatening to wring our necks, it is not going to get the damned waggon turned over any sooner!” Ranulf yelled back, still straining to turn over the waggon.
Caleb in his exasperation yelled out and cursed, reaching over and slamming the gate with his sword, causing the gate to move slightly, hitting Ranulf and Cian in the back of their heads.
“Ow! You miserable, short-tempered bastard! That is not helping either!” Cian yelled back at Caleb.
“We have to open the gates now Caleb. The Guards will not be able to hold out much longer,” Deaglan said in desperation, above the din of the fighting.
Just then Aiden looked over to his right, as something caught his eye by the forest’s edge.
“Caleb,” Aiden saying Caleb’s name with a sound of surprise.
Caleb looking over at the same time in the direction of the forest, his face also registering surprise. Two Rabkin warriors appeared, coming out of the misty depths of the forest, quickly and without a sound. They bounded up to where Caleb and the others were in front of the gate. Stopping just behind Caleb and Aiden they unfurled heavy vines they had wrapped about their shoulders, then swinging above their heads, what appeared to be large hooks carved from tree limbs.
Caleb and Aiden moved their horses out of the way, then the Rabkins let the hooks fly, landing and grappling firmly at the top of the gate. They then climbed up the gate, leaping over the other side in only a few moments, with Caleb looking on with as much astonishment as everyone else. The Rabkins landed heavily on the ground, on either side of the two brothers. Cian and Ranulf looked up in shock and fear, holding on to each other, screaming in terror. The Rabkins looked at them and then each other, in mild annoyance, and bemusement.
“They are there to help, you idiots!” Caleb yelled, above their screaming.
The two brothers then stopped screaming and looked again at each other, then the Rabkins, with the same terrified, but now disbelieving faces. One of the Rabkins gestured for the Ranulf and Cian to place their hands against the waggon, as the other Rabkin, firmly put his hands on the waggon, waiting for the others to do the same. After one combined effort, the waggon was turned over, and the Rabkins then quickly rolled it out of the way. Cian and Ranulf stood for a few moments, smiling broadly, and shaking their heads.
“Well…ah…th…thank you,” Ranulf stammered, as Cian laughed nervously, waving to the Rabkins, who just stood and looked at them, with seemingly amused expressions.
“Open the gate!” Caleb bellowed out, as the two brothers suddenly remembered their task, running back to the gate.
Lifting the heavy bar, then turning the lock, they swung the weighty doors open, leaping out of the way as Caleb, Aiden and Deaglan thundered past them, the rest of the company following. King Fergus led the Clann Armies, with Gavin riding beside him, both of them yelling out the battle cry, urging the men forward. The Rabkins then unassumingly made their way out of the gates, and disappeared back into the forest, satisfied the assistance they had given was all that was needed at this time.
Chieftain McCullan and Rian as well as the other Keepers, rode in staying to one side, stopping by the wall staircase.
“I am concerned we will not be able to gather the Hunters without them getting into the city, Chieftain. They are full of the bloodlust at this point,” Rian spoke up with concern, as he looked over at the other Keepers, they too wearing concerned expressions, looking back into the city.
“Do not worry for that, my lad. Old Neala, will gather her girls to her. Just wait a bit, you shall see,” McCullan replied confidently, as he touched the white stone on his bracer, giving the command to halt, as Rian and the other keepers did the same.
In only a few moments, the majestic Scimitar cat Neala, came swiftly and agilely down the stairs on silent heavily padded paws, coming right up to McCullan, rumbling low and softly as he stroked her great head. She then turned and let out a soft hooting call, that was soon answered by low roars and growls. A few moments later, Rian’s Hunter, Caffara, came down the stairs, the first to answer the call of her mother, followed by the others. The Keepers then talking softly and caressing the massive heads of the Hunters, attached the heavy chains back to the harnesses worn by all Scimitars, leading them quietly and safely out of the city, their task completed. Rian then handed Caffara’s lead over to McCullan, and getting upon his horse, Rian galloped back into the city to join Ione and the others in reclaiming Gwenlais.
The fighting continued, as the mercenaries were beaten back, Deaglan urging his men forward, now impassioned and strengthened at the sight of their Captain and the armies of Heathwin joining them.
“Fight for your fallen King! Fight for your families and for Gwenlais! Fight to free our new Queen!” Deaglan rallied on, his voice filled with passion and intensity, the Guards answering his calls by cheering.
Aiden looked over at Caleb with a slight grin, hearing Deaglan’s words, as they rode past him, heading towards the hill to the House of Healing. Ione seeing her cousins heading towards the hill, urged her horse forward, striking down one more mercenary, then galloped after Caleb and Aiden and their troop of fifty Sentinels.
Laurel shuddered as she saw the last splintered timbers of the gate finally give way from the onslaught of the battering ram. The group rode in yelling and hooting in what they assumed would be an easy takeover from their violent hostilities. All of them dismounted but Logan, who still sat with Laurel in front of him on his horse, his arm around her waist.
“Put her down Guard, so she may see the suffering of her maidservant and Ollams fully,” Warrick ordered, looking over at Logan with a devious grin.
When Logan still hesitated, Warrick signalled for the mercenaries to surround Logan and Laurel, the circle closing in on them.
“You will not be able to stop us Guard, from doing what we wish, especially when you are dead. I knew there was reason not to trust you,” Warrick hissed out, in contempt.
Logan manoeuvred his horse, not allowing the mercenaries to step directly in back of him, unsheathing his sword and holding Laurel closer.
“You know nothing, you despicable fool! The end of your life is before you. You will all be dead in a short time, look around and listen! What do you think is coming for you up the hill?” Logan asked, in a mocking angry tone.
“And you will be dead before they arrive,” Warrick spat out, his eyes wild, and filled with fear and hate. “Kill him!” Warrick ordered, in a frantic screeching voice.
Logan struck out at one of the first ones to charge him, cutting off the ruffian’s hand, sending him screaming and writhing in pain on the ground. Laurel cried out in fear and shock as she gripped Logan’s arm, as he held her even tighter, still trying to manoeuvre his horse closer to the House of Healing and fending off the attackers at the same time.
“What is wrong with you? Kill him you fools!” Warrick screamed out in his rage.
The mercenaries shouted out cursing, and yelling out in pain, as either they were struck by Logan’s sword or kicked by his horse.
“I am going to get you as close to the House as possible my Lady. Then I shall put you down, you must run with all your might,” Logan instructed Laurel, talking into her ear so he could be heard above the din.
Laurel simply nodding in acknowledgement, trying desperately to stay atop of Logan’s horse. Then without warning the doors to the House of Healing were thrown open, over fifty Gwenlais Guards ran out, swords raised as they rushed upon the group of mercenaries.
“Cut them down, show no mercy!” Crayton commanded as he rushed upon one of the thugs, quickly running him through.
Warrick shocked and panicked, cowered behind one of the ruffians then ran behind one of the low bushes, in front of the wide terrace. For now, no one noticed, as they were too absorbed in the clamour of the fight. Logan edging closer to the House released Laurel.
“Run!” Logan yelled out, Laurel did not turn around, looking only forward, focused on the open doors and her freedom.
Fighting the pain, exhaustion and nausea, that overwhelmed her for the past two days, Laurel continued to run, ignoring the shouts and screams around her. Looking only in front of her, as she was almost on the terrace. Laurel then felt a sharp pain in her shoulder, as she felt herself being grabbed, and roughly turned around. Warrick had jumped out from behind one of the bushes, turning her around to stand in front of him, one arm around her waist, the other around her neck, as he held a knife to her throat.
“Move forward, or I shall kill you now,” he hissed in her ear.
Laurel’s breath caught in a small gasp, as she walked forward with him.
“Now call out to the Guard, and make sure he hears you,” Warrick demanded, holding the knife’s edge closer so that Laurel was able to clearly feel the cold steel against her skin.
“Logan! Logan!” Laurel screamed out.
The second time, Logan and several Guards stopped and turned to look at her.
“Princess!” Logan yelled back, then all stopped abruptly to look at them.
“By the Maker! No!! What is she doing there?!” Caleb yelled out in anguish and disbelief, as they topped the hill and stopped at the fractured gates, to see Laurel being held at knife point by Warrick.
Aiden looked at the top of the wooden walls, then saw the stairway, leading to the narrow walkway. Getting off his horse, and grabbing his quiver and longbow, he looked over at Caleb, his eyes fierce and determined.
“Distract him long enough to give me a clear shot. Wait for the signal, and get out of the line of fire. Do not worry Caleb, I will find my mark,” Aiden said with a low, and intense voice.
“I know you will Aiden, for our lives depend upon it,” Caleb replied, looking at him with trust and respect, as Aiden nodded his head, and turned to hurry towards the stairway.
“Let us end this,” Caleb said in a dark and frightening tone, which made even Ione and the others with them, glance over at him in surprise.
All turned to see what Warrick was reacting to as he began to laugh manically, as Caleb and the others rode in purposefully, and silently. Caleb then dismounted, drawing his sword, walking over towards where Warrick and Laurel stood.
“Let her go, and I promise you, your end will be quick,” Caleb remarked in the same tone, his mind desperately trying to keep control, seeing Laurel’s terrified eyes, boring through him.
He continued to walk towards them, then was forced to stop an arm’s length away.
“That is close enough. Well, if it is not the beast, from the west. Just like a savage, to show up uninvited, and ruining my party. Still making demands, are you? Well, as you can plainly see, you are in no position to be making demands. You once told me, if I ever returned to Gwenlais, you would take away my reason for living. So now, perhaps, I shall take away yours?” Warrick replied in an evil mocking tone, moving the knife closer, causing Laurel’s breath to catch.
“No! No. I will do whatever you wish,” Caleb said, throwing his sword upon the ground. “State your demands,” Caleb spoke through clenched teeth, struggling to keep his control.
“Now that is more like it. First of all, you will recognise me, as the ruler of Gwenlais, by bowing and calling me Sire,” Warrick stated, laughing lightly as he spoke.
Caleb looked at Laurel for a fleeting moment, her eyes catching a glint, she had never seen.
“Very well, Sire,” Caleb said, bowing and making a broad gesture with his arm.
“Excellent beast. Now, Hawk of the West. You will kneel before me, showing all here, I hold you in control. Do it now, or she dies in front of your eyes,” Warrick hissed, as his hands began to shake, his eyes growing more crazed.
Caleb looked at him, no longer able to control his rage as he clenched his fist, watching tears flow down Laurel’s cheeks.
“It will be alright mo stor,” Caleb spoke tenderly, his eyes softening for just a moment.
“It will not be alright! Do as I say, or I will kill her now!” Warrick screamed.
At that moment, C aleb heard the screech of a hawk. He then looked at Laurel once more, his eyes catching her hand move to the fold of her dress, and seeing a fleeting glimpse of steel. He showed only a second of surprise, as he grinned slightly.
“It will be an honour Sire, for I have never kneeled before a dead man before,” Caleb remarked, just beginning to kneel down.
“Think you are clever do you? I shall show you…” Warrick trailed off, followed by a scream of shock and agony, as Laurel plunged the dagger Logan had given her, into his leg.
In his surprise and pain, Warrick dropped his knife. Laurel tried to move away from him, but Warrick grabbed her throat, gripping viciously. Just as Warrick turned to face Caleb, a sharp hiss could be heard, followed by Warrick being impaled in the forehead by an arrow, loosening his grasp on Laurel, she then crumpled to the ground. He only stood for a moment longer, as Caleb grabbed his sword, standing up and cleanly cleaved Warrick’s head from his shoulders, all in one fluid movement. Laurel gasped in shock and disgust as Warrick’s blood sprayed across her face and neck. Caleb kicked the body away, then falling to his knees gathering Laurel in his arms, holding her against him. Caleb then looked up at the wall, as Aiden stood up, and nodded to him once. The mercenaries, seeing they were greatly outnumbered, dropped their weapons and surrendered, as only a dozen were still alive. Caleb, then pulled away from Laurel slightly, to look into her face.
“Mo cailin milis. Did he hurt you?” Caleb asked in a h oarse voice, choking back tears.
“No.. .no, I think I am fine. Now that you are here,” Laurel whispered tearfully, placing her hand against Caleb’s face.
“Yes, mo stor. Your Prince is here,” Caleb answered her, pulling her closer to him, burying his face into her hair.
He then stood up, holding her in his arms, walke d back over to Lorcan, placing Laurel on the saddle in front of him. Turning Lorcan in the direction of the castle he galloped away, to leave the others watching them, some in tears, but all smiling sadly. Logan walked over slowly, to Warrick’s body, pulling the dagger from his leg, wiping it off, placed it in his pocket.
“Well done my Lady. Well done,” Logan said aloud, in a quiet calm voice.
3: LIVES FOREVER CHANGED
Caleb entered the castle courtyard with Laurel half-conscious in his arms, her face buried in his shoulder. Holding her tightly against him, Lorcan stood perfectly still as Caleb swung his leg over the saddle and leapt down, walking towards the castle entrance. Milo and two young men rushed out to meet him, Caleb recognising the young Sentinel, Seamus.
