Chapter 25: The Battle for Falena

Doraat Fortress, 338 Solar Year.

Morning at last, Alen arose from bed. He had trouble dressing himself with only one good arm. But he managed well enough. He gazed out the eastern window. The skyline was crimson red with the dawn of the rising sun. "Sailors take warning, indeed!" he said to himself, "Today, both blood and rain shall water the ground of this great land." The old poet couldn't help be a bit melodramatic on such a day as this.

A foreign enemy had invaded his land, kidnapped his daughter, stolen a national treasure, violated his people's graves, and nearly had been successful in murdering his whole family. Enough was enough! This would be the day that all of Nyoka's scheming came to an end he thought to himself in order to psych up his weary body for the daunting task he was about to lead his army against.

Shortly thereafter, Alen was down in the courtyard where thousands of soldiers, sailors, Dragon Horse cavalry and other volunteers where waiting for him. In only a few days, Alen and the Knights had managed to assemble over 12,000 men for battle. Most were now armed and ready to go. Thanks to the secret caches of weapons Alen had been wise enough to hide from the Nagarean diplomats at the end of the last war.

Godwin walked up beside the aging leader, "Everything is in order. The boats and dragon horses are ready to transport the men across the river. Raftfleet showed up last night too. So, we should be able to get everyone ferried across in a single trip."

"Good, Good," Alen replied while he was surveying the sea of men looking for someone, "Has Robert not returned yet? It's not like him to miss a battle." Marcus answered, "He has not shown up yet. And we've heard nothing new since the last message he sent you yesterday."

The commander placed his good hand on his hilt, sighed, "Very well. Prepare to deploy! We'll just had to start the operation without him. He knows the plan. When he shows up, he and his men can refresh the frontline." Marcus saluted, turned to a group of officers near him, and relayed the orders.

As Godwin was walking away, Alen interrupted him, "Godspeed to you and Ms. Jeane! We're counting on you! Everything rests in your hands." Godwin smirked, "They're the most reliable hands I know of, Sire. Leave everything to me." Then he walked off toward a side alley to where Alen could see Jeane the Runemistress waiting.

Alen turned toward the myriad of warriors before him and speaking in a loud booming voice that echoed well off the thick stonewalls of the courtyard declared: "Men of Falena, the dawn has come! A day of war and blood awaits us! Nagarea has committed the gravest of sins! They have violated the eternal slumber of the dead! Our brothers! Our fathers! Our fallen heroes! Their tombs have been desecrated and their corpses possessed by the darkest of magics! Will you stand for this?"

"No!" shouted hundreds of voices in unison in reply. However, the old warrior poet could still see many of his troops with looks of concern on their faces at these latest revelations. He continued, "Hear me men! They have done this to us, because they know we are strong. And they are not. We have many powerful allies and friends! They have none! Our army is united and strong! Theirs is weak and defeated; fighting with tricks from the shadows."

He raised his broken arm in the sling as high as he could lift it before it would hurt him. "You see they have already sent their best warriors to stop us. They even tried to murder me. Yet, Here I Stand! And those assassins Are Dead!" More cheers and shouts filled the crowd. Alen paused until the courtyard had calmed down again.

"Even more important than all of that men. Their magicians use the power of darkness and the shadows. Yet, Our Queen, she has the blessings of the Sun, itself! (He gestured to the morning sky). The Sun Rune protects this land with the power of its light and justice. And last I checked darkness flees from the light. Not the other way around!"

"No, I tell you we are stronger! We will win this day! As we speak several of the Queen's Knights and some of our most powerful friends are taking the fight to the head of this unholy serpent. And they shall decapitate it!" Again, more shouts and cheers of: "Victory!" and "For the Queen!" echoed throughout the mighty stone fortress.

Alen didn't wait for them to stop this time. He kept going not wanting to lose the moment as he shouted over them, "I tell you men! I tell you, men! Their head will die this day! Mark my words he shall be conquered! But, there is still a body out there! A Dark Army! That needs to be defeated! Will you stand in the gap!? Will you fight!? Will you raise your swords and bows! Will you return the eternal rest our fallen comrades yearn for and that this dark magic has robbed them of? WILL YOU JOIN ME?! WILL YOU FIGHT WITH ME?! WILL YOU PROTECT FALENA?!"

Now everyone was on their feet cheering and shouting as the voices of over 10,000 men shook the stonewalls. Swords and spears were being lifted high into the air signaling victory. There was no longer any fear or hesitation in their faces, Alen observed. They were all ready for war. Ready to kill. Ready to die.

Outside the city gates the echoes of excitement could still be heard clearly as a man and woman were getting into a small skiff, whose ferryman was rowing them across the mighty Feitas River.

Godwin snickered to himself more so than at Jeane who was sitting across from them. "Well, I'll give the old man credit. What he lacks in sense, he at least makes up for in good speeches. The men seem ready to fight at last."

Looking over at his overwhelmingly underdressed partner for this mission he asked, "And what about you? Are you ready? For this fight I mean. Two vs. Three is hard enough. I can't afford any dead weight. I have much riding on this day!" The rune mage giggled in her normal flirtatious mannerism, and added, "You worry too much Mr. Godwin. Relax enjoy the feel of the cool water. We shall meet our foes soon enough. Then all shall unfold as it was meant too. Tee-hee!"

"As it is meant to?" What the heck did that mean he thought? This woman was a strange one, of that much Godwin was certain. Even with his own prodigious skills with a rune, he knew he would need her help to defeat these three powerful servants of Nyoka. As all three were now bearing these unknown Crescent Moon Runes, which allowed them to control and organize their Lord's undead forces.

All he had to do was defeat them. Let the zombie force fall into disarray and sit back and wait. Whether Alen lived or died, it mattered not. Soon most of the power in the Queendom would belong to him and his family for as long as they continued to win the Sacred Games and marry the next generations of princesses. So, long as he was the Commander of the Queen's Knights he would be in the perfect position to make sure that was indeed the case.

Suddenly, Marcus found himself thinking about the next queen. Cyrah, she was still Nyoka's prisoner! Would she live or die? If this Lazlo guy, whom he despised so much, failed to rescue his wife then he would have to take matters into his own hands.

These strange feelings took the deceptive man by surprise. Had he come to care for Cyrah? Did he really have feelings for her? Before she had been a means to an end. He used her the way she used him-to gain power.

She was beautiful and he loved their physical relationship, but had he changed? Had those feelings grown? Did he love her? No! He told himself, but he still needed her. She was the next Queen. Without her, his power base couldn't be cemented properly. That must be the reason he was now concerned for her; he lied to himself.

They had reached the other side of the river. The pair got off the boat. Neither said a word to the ferryman, but Jeane did smile at him. This caused the old man to blush a bit as well as stare at her for a longer time than his wife would have appreciated if she had been there.

But soon the two powerful magicians were out of his view and he returned to the other side of the river to begin transporting more soldiers across the river in order to carry out their counter-invasion of the western part of Falena.

It was a logistical hassle. They had more horses and military supplies than previously thought. Plus, a few extra recruits from some nearby villages had shown up at the last moment. So, they actually had to make two trips across the river not just one. Not the worst thing in the world, reasoned Alen, to have more men and supplies than I first thought.

His only real regret was that Robert still had not shown up yet. He didn't know why, but he still trusted that his most fiery-tempered warrior wouldn't miss this great battle.

About an hour later everyone was in position. The sun still had not risen high enough in the morning to peak over the horizon of the high hills yet. Which is what he was hoping for. Perched atop these hills he could see for miles and sure enough he could see the hordes of undead corpses marching around the snaking valleys below in perfect formation toward their beachhead. The first part of Tanya's plan seemed to be working.

While most of the army was atop the hills, a small force was left behind to set several of the wooden ships a blaze. Along with burning several heads of cattle and other livestock. The hope was that the fire and smoke as well as the smell of burning flesh, animal or not, would draw the enemies' attention.

While Alen and his men circled around back atop the hills. Once in position the men could charge the zombies from behind having the full force of a downhill charge on their side.

Moreover, the Dagon Horse cavalry could attack their exposed flank from the river. This pincer attack was risky, but it seemed the best way to assault them. Plus, once the sun came above the hills their forces would have the sun in their eyes as the Falenan troops came crashing down upon them. Alen figured zombies didn't see exactly the same way living men did, but he figured every little advantage would help him and his men.

Sure enough, their forces seemed to take the bait. Whether it was the smell of burnt meat or just the smoke, Alen didn't know, but he was just glad the plan was working for the moment. At the base of the valley where the hills and the river met, there was a wide and long open plain. This wide track of land was easily capable of holding an army twice the size of his current one. Thus, there would be plenty of room for battle.

Once Alen saw everything was ready and his foes where in position he gave the signal to a nearby archer. The archer removed an arrow that had been resting in oil. He set the tip ablaze and launched it into the air. The signal arrow was off and soon others were as well from other hills.

In moments, several runic military units went to work casting very powerful fire spells, which cut off the enemies retreat with a huge wall of fire. Several of the zombies nearby where instantly turned to ash by the sudden and intense heat magic.

Next more flaming arrows came raining down upon them. Hundreds upon hundreds of volleys fell upon these undead warriors. Many were maimed and set ablaze. However, this didn't stop the army of thousands of undead from regrouping their attack. They soon turned their attention to the hills and began walking up them neither tired nor afraid.

Alen gave the next signal to the soldiers beside him. This time a runic warrior raised his right hand as bolts of a Thunder Runner spell were cast high into the air. The beam of lightning was the next signal, as thousands of men drew their blades and spears and began the charge to meet these foes face-to-face.

The army's spearmen were placed at the front of the charge line and as they were running downhill they gained more and more speed and momentum. A few soldiers tripped over themselves and fell over into the undead horde as so great was their velocity. However, most remained upright and brought their charging spears down upon these soulless creatures at full force. The first three flanks of them were plowed over onto the ground like a hot knife cutting through butter.

Moments later thousands of more men and sharp steel fell upon their foes. The enemy, however, did not panic, retreat, nor break what was left of its formation. They kept marching onward and upward to what now was becoming clear to all, which was that they were after Alen's unit. Kill the leader. Win the battle. Simple enough strategy reasoned the nobleman.

While the commander was at last understanding the enemy's true aim. The Dragon Horse cavalry came rushing up out of the water like a sudden storm and started hitting the enemy at their last exposed flank. This slowed the main forces of zombies down a bit while their outer ranks were being picked off by the human army. Yet, still they marched toward Alen's location.

It became clear to the commander; his men were defeating these foes at a speed faster than he thought they would. Yet, he doubted it would still be fast enough to stop them all before they reached his location. His men would have to charge these undead things back up hill in their heavy armor making themselves even more tired and exhausted.

The high-ranking officers around the main unit also recognized this dilemma. Moreover, they wanted to get the commander out of harm's way and entreated him to remove himself from the battlefield. The old warrior refused flatly saying that would be a cowardly thing to do and would cause the men on the battlefield below to lose heart.

Suddenly, Alen had an idea as he was watching the battle below and the wall of fire still being magically produced by his runic units. He quickly jotted something down on a small piece of paper and then grabbed a young officer saying, "Get on your horse and take this message to Captain Tarshish's magical unit. Tell him that he is to do exactly as it says! If he protests! Tell him, I said this is a direct order!"

In a moment, the young officer was mounted and off with the message. The other officers were confused at this newest order by their boss. He informed them of his new plan. Several immediately protested. Others seemed to think it was risky, but agreed it would work. Alen mounted his steed, "Look, they're coming! Their numbers are shrinking, but not fast enough! If it's me they want so bad, while let them come to take me." "But, Sire!" several protested, "It is too dangerous!"

Alen rebuked them fiercely, "I am not asking for your opinion! Follow the damn order! Or get the hell off my battlefield!" At such a harsh tone from their otherwise normally stoic Commander, they fell into line.

Alen took about half his command staff with him on horseback and began charging down the hill not toward the horde of fiends, but parallel to them and made quite the spectacle doing it by having his men blow trumpets along with banners flying high in the air. The zombies were close enough to see him, but were to slow to catch him on horseback going at full gallop downhill.

Concurrently, the rest of his command staff went down the back of their hill and circled back around to where the Dragon Horse cavalry was now picking off the rear of their flanks. They told their leadership to pull their forces back as Commander Alen had given this order. Confused and surprised they still, however, followed orders.

The undead forces sure enough saw Alen and changed their own direction and went back down the hill to follow after him. Alen, himself, and his personal escort were now riding toward the raging wall of fire that was designed to block any retreat or enemy reinforcements.

However, right now his only concern was that Captain Tarshish had not received his new order in time. But, this fear was quickly put to rest as a wide gap in the pyro was opening as he approached. The land was scorched and black, but the fire was abated. The small force of cavalry passed through unharmed.

Moments later the supernatural forces came following after them through the same gap in the flame. The soldiers meanwhile had seen the bolts of lightning in the sky, which was the signal telling them to hold their position. Alen and his men stood on the other side of the gap; his sword lifted high in the air. He brought it down and pointed it straight at the oncoming remaining horde of about 2000 zombies that was now in the center of the gap.

This was the signal to Captain Tarshish. Because in moments the fire came rushing back down like a flood bursting forth from a broken dam. The raging inferno swallowed them all!

Animated back to life by dark magic mattered not anymore. The remaining few thousands were instantly turned to ash by the scores of Fire and Rage Runes being casted simultaneously. The flames fed upon this new source of fuel, which was at once consumed. Afterwards, the casters stopped channeling their spells. Most of them magically exhausted by this point.

The ground was still too hot for Alen and his men's horses to walked back across directly. Several trees had caught on fire and the grass was completely gone. Even the stones nearby had melted a bit where the heart of the inferno had been. The sand near the beach line had turned to a crude form of glass from the intense heat.

Alen and his men went down and around to the riverbank and trotted through the shallow ends of the Feitas River. When they came up and around the other side, they were met with cheers and celebration at the heroic act of their fearless leader. The warrior poet observed his men. A few hundred had been injured and fewer still had lost their lives. Alen was relieved.

All and all, it was a hard-fought victory, but still something inside his gut, didn't strike the warrior as right. It was challenging, yes, but everything seemed to happen so quickly and just too perfectly. The enemy seemed to do everything exactly as they wanted them too.

The victory seemed in some sense was too easy. In 40 years of fighting in battles; no plan had ever gone so flawlessly. Was it Lady Tanya's brilliant planning? Had Jeane and Marcus defeated those three who controlled this army so easily? Or was it something else?

Then as if the enemy was reading his thoughts. Abruptly three unholy beams of dark blue-ish light shot up into the air from a mountain top nearby. The ground started to shake all around Alen and his thousands of men. The horses and dragon horses, though well-trained for war, started to panic as well. Then, suddenly it happened. All around them, things began to rise from the underground.

From atop the hills above and the valleys below, they arose from the soil as though they had been waiting all this time. From the shoreline on one side to the still sizzling ground on the opposite side still more appeared-legions and legions of undead foes. Nearly 20,000 strong reckoned Alen. And the living were now utterly surrounded on all sides.

The 5000 or so zombies they had just defeated were all part of a trap to lure them out. Now Alen's forces were no longer in any strategical placement or on the high ground. They were just about 11,500 tired and exhausted men and beasts, who were completely surrounded on all sides by a relentless enemy.

They had been outmaneuvered. Alen turned to Captain Tarshish whose unit had just arrived too. They were tired and drained as well. There was no way his men could perform that same intensity of fire spells again for several days. Now over 10 thousand pairs of eyes looked toward the queen's husband for what they should do next and the old warrior poet felt the weight of them all fall upon him.