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Chapter 18.
Now, we must go back to Elisud, a day or so later. After a night of feverish praying, Elisud emerged from his tent looking sick but no less determined. Today would be his judgement day. He would either drive the Calormenes out of Archenland, or he would die trying.
As he was walking to the armorer, he was addressed by an all too eager looking aide, "Sir, every able bodied man, woman, faun, centaur, and talking animal has arrived. Lord Eoghan suggested calling to Narnia for aid, but he said he'll leave that decision to you."
"King Rilian is away, in the islands. The regent isn't allowed to call out the army unless in extreme emergencies. At any rate, it would take them two days to reach us. It may be too late by then."
"So you do not wish to call for aid?"the very thorough aide asked.
"No. Instead, send word to every non combatant citizen to make for Narnia or the Islands. A small escort can see them to the border, but we'll need the escort to come back as soon as they can."
"Yes, sir."
By midday, everyone shared the same agitation and desperation that Elisud felt. A little after noon, everyone was armed and ready for the rash counteroffensive Elisud had organized. Just before the time to attack came, as he was riding past the archers, one in particular caught his eye. Shaking his head, he redirected his horse to the familiar fair-haired female warrior.
"Aoife, what on earth do you think you're doing?"
"I'm riding with the archers. If this is going to be the last stand, then I don't want to be cowering in a corner somewhere waiting to be killed."
"I can't say I blame you. Do you think your arm will be alright?"he asked, noticing it was still bent at a peculiar angle.
"It will do. It's not as if you have a choice. You need as many fighters as you can get, don't you?"
"Yes, but I'd rather they be in good physical condition so they won't get themselves killed."
"Don't worry, I'll be fine,"she reassured.
"Does Pericles know you're here?"
She glared at him coldly, "I do not need his permission to do what I please."
"Does he?"
This time she looked sheepish, "Well, no..."
He chuckled dryly. It felt strange to laugh, "Be extra careful then, will you? I wouldn't want to have to face him if something happened to you."
"Then I'll see you after the battle?"it was a question, not a statement. Elisud didn't say anything. He couldn't make any promises.
The artillery had been in action all day, and had done a very satisfactory amount of damage. Now it was the infantry's turn. They lined up, with nervous faces, as if they were fighting the temptation to turn and run.
Elisud faced them, noticing their horror-struck faces. A frightened warrior was an ill-fated one; he needed to think of something, anything, to reassure them, even if it was giving them futile hope.
"Archenlanders! We are going into a battle with half as many fighters as our enemy has. Some might tell you the odds are against us. I tell you now, that is not true. They may have great numbers, but we have greater heart. We fight for our country, for our families, and for Aslan. They fight for money, for another man's greed. They have no determination. But you do. I would rather have ten warriors who fight selflessly than a thousand who fight for greed. I am lucky enough to fight alongside such great warriors as you. Now, let's send these bastards home."
A cry issued from the army, the effect of Elisud's speech more effective than he had thought it would be. He nodded to his trumpeter to sound the charge. Before the other could put his lips to the horn, however, a sharp, valiant noise had echoed throughout the valley. Every head on the battlefield turned to the last ridge behind the Archenlanders, where a lone rider stood, holding a green flag with a red rampant lion.
"The Narnians!"somebody exclaimed joyously. Sure enough, the lone rider was joined by several hundreds more. Elisud, however, was more focused on the rider, who had handed the flag off to another and had drawn his sword as his small, gray dappled horse trotted down the ridge with the rest.
"I don't believe it..."he whispered in an awestruck voice, for even from that distance, he knew who that rider was.
Sure enough, Galian was positively beaming at him when the Narnians joined the ranks of the Archenlanders. The Narnian commander, a short, pudgy man no one would think would have the ability to command an army, came up to Elisud, saying in a gruff voice, "Sorry we're late. It was a mess, trying to get the army activated with his Highness away. We're at your disposal, Lord Elisud."
The ranks were rearranged a bit, and the army, much more positive about their objective, charged. The problem with fighting in southern Archenland is there isn't a nice, level field in which to conduct a swift, flowing calvary charge. As it was, the land here was sloped and broken, and the trees grew thickly about everywhere. Thus, Elisud's charge was slow and not as horrifying as he had meant it to be. This put them at a slight disadvantage, but only a slight one, for the Archenlanders knew this country much better than their enemy, which is always a key factor in any victory. The armies finally met, with such a loud clatter that many were stunned for a moment. Everywhere, the battle cry of both Northerner and Calormene could be heard, mixed with the clash of metal and the roar and barks and various animal noises. The Narnians, fresh and well-prepared for battle, were fighting marvelously, and the Archenlanders, aided by Elisud's speech and the arrival of the Narnians, had received their second wind. In no time, they had the Calormenes beaten back. Filled with savage glee, they pursued their enemy until twilight, when the enemy had their backs to the very southern border, many of the Calormenes giving their cause up for lost and crossing the river without the consent of their officers. By morning, Elisud hypothesized, they would be gone.
He stood on the last ridge, overlooking the river, watching the Calormenes give themselves to chaos. Even now, he couldn't believe they had won. It might take some time to eradicate every single Calormene soldier, for most had hurried into the densely forested area when they knew the battle was lost. But it was enough for him. Archenland was safe again, for the time being.
He turned to see Aoife, thank the Lion she was still alive, though she seemed to be cradling her already damaged arm. Behind her, looking like a sad, concerned puppy, was Pericles, dirty and disheveled but for the most part very well. They greeted each other warmly, glad to see that one another was still alive and kicking. Another figure caught their eye, a few yards away. There, walking with sword still in hand, was Galian. Something, none of them were sure what, had changed. He looked older and much more mature, like the Narnian he was supposed to be. Upon seeing them, he smiled slightly, and saluted. Elisud returned the salute, and the two started towards each other.
Around them were the bodies of Calormenes and sadly a few Archenlanders. In some places, the bodies were piled knee-high. As Galian walked by one of these, his sword hanging loosely in hand, a brown hand shot from underneath one of the piles, jerking Galian's sword away from him. Time seemed to move very, very quickly from that point.. Before Galian had a chance to realize his sword was gone, the Calormene was already on foot, and before Galian could move, the attacker had driven the sharp blade into his chest.
He screamed in pain, and looked down at the wound, from which blood began to pour. The attacker maliciously withdrew the sword, causing Galian to stumble. He looked up as the sword was raised, about to deal the deadly stroke that would end the young Narnian's short life.
Before the attacker could finish his stroke, however, Pericles came to the rescue, lobbing off the fiend's head before he could finish the job. Galian, finally losing his strength, pitched forward, and was caught by Elisud. Over his friend's shoulder, he could see Aoife screaming. Funny, though, that he couldn't hear here. He couldn't hear anything but the wind in his ears. The wound had stopped hurting now, all he felt was cold. Elisud laid him on the ground, and Galian could see that his blood had stained Elisud's tunic. The later was saying something, but again, Galian couldn't hear him. The world was beginning to look fuzzy and was growing dark. He had the oddest sensation he was being lifted up, then he knew nothing more.
