36

The "Glory" of Battle

"What the hell do we do about that, Fintii?" Infra demanded, looking at the large army that was still filtering silently into the courtyard. Even for a mighty Lunattack of Plundaar, it was more than intimidating to see hundreds of angry, armed people approaching to confront them.

"We do what Mumm-Ra tells us to do. Anything these humans and freaks can do to us, that mummy bonebag can do a thousand times worse. So just keep your eyes open."

Infra scowled, but she nodded. Fintii was right, and she knew it. She took her throwing disk from its holster and got ready for a fight.

Around the courtyard, the other Lunattacks also were also drawing your weapons. Some were edging for their vehicles.

Mumm-Ra growled low in his throat as he addressed Leyati, his attention temporarily taken from his young adversary. "So. You intend to cross me, Mumm-Ra the Ever-Living." It was more a statement than a question, nothing that he wanted an answer to. His tone was low and contemptuous and angry. And then he laughed, a sound that chilled Saber's very soul. It was not the laugh of anything sane; not the laugh of someone who could feel mercy, or even humor. Only cruel amusement and pain. "Pathetic wretches. You dare defy me! This pitiful band of rebels will fight the power of the undead, of the immortal! You amuse me, Nai. This will be entertaining." He turned to Saber, who despite himself shied from his gaze. "I will deal with you soon." Then to the Lunattacks: "Attack!"

It was at that point that the greatest, most viscous battle Saber's people had ever seen from the dawning of their realization of history began.

Those who went unarmed scattered as the thirty or so Lunattacks all sprang into action. Some, such as Chilldon and Psychren, jumped into the crowd, swinging their weapons, or aiming them, or throwing them. Others headed for vehicles and took to the air to fire from above, and yet others ran for Skytomb. Fintii was among these, and she shouted out orders to those who were with her, Weapons were manned, Skytomb was piloted offensively, and people below were targeted. Suddenly the ari around Saber was a confusing mass of claning steel and angry cries.

The only advantage there was to this was those above had to be careful not to hit their people who fought below. But still, there were far more warriors of their enemy to fire at.

No signal was needed for Leyati and his improvised army. Now that the moment of truth was at hand, the warriors leaped into the fight with all their skill and training, Most had been through this many times before and even to those young warriors whose first battle would be this day, it was as if it were a carefully rehearsed dance. A deadly dance, that ended not in applause, but in blood.

Even the ordinary citizens seemed to fight without fear. Although they trembled inside with terror, although their souls were chilled at the scene, their faces wore only expressions of fierce determination. As large as Leyati's numbers were, it would have been an easy battle, won quickly by the Nai and their allies. But one player in this scene was no mortal. Shrieking his magical commands to the sky, summoning the power from his abode so far away, the dark mage waved his hands to paint in the air murals of horrifying beasts. Another wave of his hand brought these murals to three dimensional life, and his newly created minions leapt into the crowd, intent only on destruction.

As the formerly organized circle around him disintegrated into a mass of fighting, Saber slipped form the stage, holding his hand to his arm. Now that the adrenaline of the battle was waning, he had the leisure to feel every injury he had taken in the fight. Dropping his father's sword to the ground exhaustedly, he staggered towards them, stopping only a few feet away. He searched their faces, hoping that he would see what he hoped to see. He hoped he would see what he felt when they stood with him. He hoped to see pride, or at least welcome. Not disappointment or anger.

The child was not disappointed. After a moment, Dannika burst into tears, a rare show of weakness, and threw her arms around Saber. The boy cried out at the sudden rough embrace, but protested no further than that. He had not seen his family in a year, and he had wanted so many times to. And now it had happened. Suddenly he felt as if he had nothing to worry about. Even if the village council banished them all, if he was with them, it wouldn't matter. He knew places they could go. He knew of people that would help him. He knew that they would not die, they would not be turned out into wastelands as he would have thought before.

When he father strode carefully over to add his strong arms to the embrace, Saber's knowledge of this fact was cemented. Even as his mother calmed her own weeping, the child burst into tears himself. All over the town square, seeping out into the streets and marketplace, and all across the village, the battle raged.

"Raged" was indeed the word for it, as every move, every attack, every blow was made in anger. In rage. The Lunattacks fought, angry with the people of Fourth Earth for daring to rebel against such mighty creatures. They fought in fury, the insolent wretches that threatened their way of life, threatened their positions as lords of Fourth Earth. Who threatened their power.

Saber's people, and Nenda's people, and Leyati's allies all fought in anger as well. They were angry at being oppressed, at being terrorized by a tyrant. They were enraged at having taken their rule for so many long years, for having to bow to them, and let them take what they wanted form their people. Seeing how many people had come to Saber's defense, even his own countrymen fought with this fierce determination.

Anger makes one strong. That can be a good thing, but if this was the case, it was hard to tell. The fight was viscous, violent. Many died. Yet others were wounded, or trampled by other fighters. Those that had fled the fight even occasionally took a blow intended for another fighter, and so even those that did not choose to fight could not escape it.

Drett and his son had gone into battle together, fighting side by side. The warrior had taught his son well, and it was apparent as many of their moves were executed in perfect unison, like a deadly ballet. The other warrior cadets had also been drawn into the fighting, each side by side with a trained fighter. Two of them fought with a group of Nai against one of Mumm-Ra's beasts, firing their bows, or slashing with their swords. And a cry of triumph was heard from them as the beast was finally defeated, and flew away in capitulation. It would not last long, as the genderless, unnatural beast was badly wounded. If it did not die on its own, Mumm-Ra would surely kill it for its failure.

Saber had sat down on the ground, loathe to leave his parents, and his little brother again. Crouching beside the stage, underneath the hollow platform where there was the l least danger of being trampled, he was still within the embrace of hit father and his mother. When they finally let go of him, Drii crawled over and put his arms round his brother. "I knew you wouldn't die," he said to him. "I knew it." He sounded both scared and smug, if that was possible, Feeling a rush of strong love for the child, Saber thought 'only Drii could manage that'. He would have bet a wolf that he had tried to convince his parents he was still alive and failed.

Ignoring the pain from his wounds, he held the child tightly. "Hey...I wouldn't die on you. Not yet, anyway. That would make your life too easy, twerp."

At the feel of a gentle hand on his shoulder, he turned around to see the healer's assistant that had taken care of Drii. The little boy had been given painkillers, and had been tightly bandaged. "Let me look at you, young man," the assistant said, glancing around at the fighters. She could tell her services would be needed yet more.

Amazed he had been called something other than child or boy, or worse, scholar or poet, Saber willingly let her take a look. He clenched his teeth as she prodded, and as she did a quick field job of stitching on the worst of them. He locked his throat against an outcry as she finished, and bandaged him up. "I feel like that mummy creature," he joked weakly.

"Here," the healer said, handing the boy a small vial of a natural painkiller. "It will make you sleepy...but it should take most of the pain away."

Saber nodded, and opened the vial.

But before he could as much as taste it, Saber yelped in shocked surprise as someone grabbed his arm from the side and jerked him to his feet. His startled eyes rose to meet the unsettling blue and white ones of one angry Chilldon. "I told you you'd die," he growled at the boy. He had taken an ax handle in the head, and he bled from a gash on his brow. His long hair was disheveled, and his eyes wild-looking, the white pupils wide in fury.

Saber jerked his arm away, bringing his own up in time to block the Lunattack from plunging his dagger into Saber's throat. Crying out as he caught the blade's edge along his hand, he held onto the Lunattack's wrist for all he was worth, kicking out at him to get him away.

As his family watched, too shocked at the moment to say anything, Chilldon grunted and staggered back, allowing Saber to scramble up onto the stage. His eyes darted frantically back and forth as he hunted for the dagger he had dropped earlier the adrenaline pumped again, giving him a second wind, making him impervious to the fatigue that had plagued him.

The child located the blade and snatched it up in time to spin around into another attack. He slashed downward with his dagger, knocking Chilldon's own away from him. Saber dropped, and tried the same move on Chilldon that he had done with Mumm-Ra, but Chilldon had seen that, and now knew better. He leapt away, then pun around with a viscous kick to the boy's face. Saber had been too slow in standing, and took a good deal of the blow across the face. He sprawled backwards onto the wood.

Chilldon leapt at him, his dagger aimed again for his throat, and Saber had to drop his own blade to stop his enemy's. His eyes showing the fear and pain he felt, Saber struggled to get the Lunattack off of him, without allowing him to plunge the blade into his flesh. He was so close, he had made it home! He could not die now, after only being reunited with his family!

Saber tried to kick Chilldon off of him, but the adult was too heavy, and he did not succeed. Not only that, but Chilldon freed his hand of the boy's tired grip, and brought his dagger up for a killing blow. And Saber was unarmed, not able to defend himself.

But Chilldon never landed the strike. Before he could even bring the blade down, he howled in pain, and rolled off of his young adversary. His dagger was dropped as he clutched his side. His bleeding side.

Dazed, Saber looked up with eyes that were blurring at the one that had just saved his life, and was very surprised to see that it was Iyen, his old nemesis. Strange how the one who had seemed the worst enemy a boy could have now seemed like his greatest ally. "I owe you one..." he said in a hoarse whisper.

Iyen looked at the younger boy for a moment, still unable to believe how he had changed. After a moment, he offered a hand to him. Surprised, Saber took it, and allowed Iyen to help him up, staggering as he did. The older boy steadied him and nodded. "You all right?"

"I-I think I will be." He had not meant to stammer, especially not in front of Iyen, but he couldn't help it. But Iyen did not mock him, only nodded. He looked like he wanted to say more to him, but instead only jumped back into the fray.

Getting a chance to catch his breath, Saber looked around at the battle. He had always thought battle to be noble, to be glorious, honorable. Something to be proud of. But it was not. What he saw was death. Mass death, people dying, others screaming in pain, or as they watched loved ones being cut down, injured...killed. The smell of blood was in the air, the shrieks of pain and fury sounded. Not even aware he was crying, Saber shut his eyes tight, and when his mother climbed up onto the stage to put her arms around him, he did not open them.

Part 37: Retreat and Recovery

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