Chapter Seven

First Blood

The morning after Shad had returned with the seven sell swords he had recruited to defend Akir, the village becomes a bustle of activity. Every able bodied person, men and women, young and old, grabs their picks and shovels and begin digging a trench around the perimeter of the village. They dig all through the day, until the trench is waist deep. The dirt is piled up on the outer edge, not quite as high as the trench it was dug from. Conan, Deathstalker, and the Beastmaster gather several bundles of long wooden poles, which Malak and Subotai begin to sharpen. Kura and her brother Sawa ask if they can help, and Malak lends them two of his knives so that they can whittle the ends of the poles into points as well. Other children ask to help as well, and soon practically every Akira child in the village is helping to whittle stakes. The stakes are set into the dirt wall, some pointing straight up while others are angled outwards.

While Malak and Subotai are making stakes with the village children, the adults are gathering dry firewood and chopping it into kindling. Once the kindling is thin enough to catch easily, it is piled up outside the perimeter of the village, just beyond the dirt wall. The pile is roughly knee high, and runs the length of the dirt wall, creating almost a secondary wall of dry kindling. Piled on top of this us plenty of freshly cut green wood, with plenty of vibrant green leaves on the branches. This added wood brings the outer wall's height to nearly a grown man's chest, but would hardly stop a man from entering the village. Most horses could jump such a height with ease. When Shad mentions this to Conan, his only response is "Trust me."

Large rocks are hauled into the village and are used to build short walls, little more than waist high, between houses. Conan explains that these are for protection against arrows and javelins when the Juns breach their outer defenses, which he is certain that they will.

With the outer and inner defenses set, the next thing to do was prepare their troops. Madmartigan and Red Sonja began training them in combat and military tactics. As their combat training was more formal than many of their companions, they are more accustomed to group tactics, which is what these villagers will need to become victorious. Subotai and Deathstalker begin training them in archery. A few of the villagers have bows and arrows for hunting deer and other game, while the mercenaries had acquired some crossbows from the Juns they had killed. They quickly determined who were better suited for fighting from a distance, and who would be better off fighting up close. Still others hunt small game with slings, and they discover who the best shots with those weapons were as well. While not much use against armored warriors, if a well slung stone could cause a Jun to be thrown from his horse that could grant them some advantage.

The final stage of their defense was the most brutal, and most difficult to stomach. Conan and his comrades take the bodies of the twenty seven slain Juns and strip them of their armor and clothing. Then they dress them as simple farmers. Then they take several wooden poles, and drive them up into the rectums of the Juns. Using these poles they stand the Juns up in the trenches like scarecrows, so as to appear as sentries on guard from a distance. They even bind wooden poles to the Juns' hands to make them appear to be armed.

"Every arrow or javelin that strikes one of these bodies, is one that will not kill one of your people," explains Conan.

Some of the Akira are not too happy with the casual desecration of the dead, even the dead of the Juns. But they can't argue with the logic behind the mercenaries' actions, and as such do not object to the practice. Besides, they are much too busy training to become capable fighters to bother protesting the casual use of dead Juns as decoys. Some Akira take to the art of combat more easily than others. Shad comes across two of his fellow farmers smacking the wooden blades of their practice swords together repeatedly.

"What are you two doing?" Shad asks them.

"Practicing," says one of the farmers, as though the answer were obvious.

"Practicing what?" asks Shad.

"Sword fighting," says the other farmer, again as though it were obvious.

"Do you think that when the Juns come, they're just going to be attacking our weapons?" he asks them. The two Akira look at him like they have no idea what he's talking about. Shad holds out his hand. "Give me your practice blade," he says. One of the Akira hands his practice sword over. Shad assumes a ready stance. "Now attack me," he says to the other. The farmer takes a swing at Shad's sword. Shad lets the two sticks collide, then he responds by hitting his sparring partner in the arm with his wooden weapon. "You've just lost your arm," says Shad, "Try again." The farmer tries again, and again aims for Shad's practice blade. This time Shad strikes his sparring partner just above the knee. "You've just lost a leg," he says, "Try again." Again the farmer aims an attack at Shad's weapon, and again Shad responds by attacking his opponent, this time poking him in the belly with the tip of the wooden sword. "Now I've just run you through the belly with my sword."

Shad tosses the practice weapon back to its owner. "Forget what you've seen in the street plays in the city or heard in minstrels' tales. Sword fights are rarely two blades clashing together over and over again. It's whoever gets his strike in first that wins. Aim for your opponents' body. Their arms, legs, neck, or head. If you can parry their attacks, great. But practicing hitting sticks together for the sake of hitting two sticks together is pointless." And with that, the young man walks away.

Watching this whole exchange was Shad's father, Kaylar. He couldn't help but notice the deep change in his son's demeanor since his return with the seven sell swords. He feels a hand gently rest upon his shoulder. "Your son learns quickly," says the red haired warrior, "He may yet survive the coming battle. You should be proud."

Kaylar turns to look Red Sonja in the eye. "I have always been proud of Shad," he says, "I am also sad. Sad that he must become what I came here to escape." and with that he limps away, leaning heavily on his staff.

Kaylar limps into his house. He heads over to his bedroom and drags his bed off to one side. He then kneels down on the floor where the bed once was and begins pulling up the floor boards. He reaches into the hole and pulls out a wooden chest. He opens the chest and removes a cloth bundle, which he takes over to the dining table. Kaylar sits down at the table and opens the bundle. Inside, carefully preserved, are his old military uniform, armor, sword, dagger, and crossbow. The armor and weapons have some wear and tear from years of disuse. Kaylar spends the rest of the evening and much of the night repairing the locking and firing mechanisms on the crossbow, polishing the armor, and sharpening and oiling the sword and dagger. By morning they are gleaming like new and are in perfect working order. He calls Shad into the house, where he presents his son with the sword and armor.

"These were mine when I served King Zed many years ago," he says, "I want you to wear them into battle."

"Father," gasps Shad in astonishment, "These are yours. I can't. . . ."

"They don't fit me too well anymore," interrupts Kaylar, "And I can't swing a sword too well with my leg the way it is. I'll hold onto the crossbow though. I ought to still be able to take out a few of those Jun bastards with this beauty."

"Are you sure?"

"Take them," he says, "Let them keep you safe. And if you are to die in it? Then be sure to take as many of those Jun bastards with you as you can when you go."

"I will," says Shad, then he gives his father a hug, "Thank you Father."

"No," says Kaylar, "Thank you, my son."

Kaylar helps Shad into the armor, and buckles the sword belt around his son's waist. Then he stands back and admires his son's appearance. He truly does look like a warrior now. And he can tell by the way Shad is standing, and the look on his son's face, that he feels like a warrior as well. A feeling Kaylar knows could be the difference between life and death.

Miles away, in the Hidden Fortress of the Jun Horde, Karak is in his bed chamber. He has Nanelia pinned down to his bed, her arms up over her head and held tight by the wrists. Both of them are naked, their sweaty bodies glistening in the torch light. Nanelia struggles against her captor with all of her strength, but to no avail. Karak is far too big and powerful to be fought off by so small a girl. A cruel smile is splayed across Karak's face as he violates her young body. He has raped her on practically a daily basis since he abducted her. To his delight, she still continues to try and fight him. Other women submit to his lust almost as soon as they realize that there's no escape, and when they do he bores of them. Nanelia has fought him at every turn, which he finds incredibly exciting. Suddenly there is a heavy banging at his chamber door.

"Come back later!" he shouts. He continues to drive his manhood into Nanelia's body when the knock comes again. "I said . . . Come! Back! Later!" A moment later there's another knock. "Damn it!" he cries. Karak pulls out of Nanelia and storms over to the chamber door, pulling it open with such force that the stone wall cracks as the door handle strikes it. Standing in the hall outside Karak's personal bed chamber is Braxus, a powerfully built Jun warrior with a shaved head and a cleft chin. Had it been any other Jun in the horde Karak likely would have cleaved him in two with his ax. But Karak was genuinely fond of Braxus and found him to be an insightful and cunning second in command. All of the other Juns afforded Braxus nearly as much fear and respect as they do Karak, which also makes him a valuable asset.

"This had better be important," says Karak, "I was in the middle of siring an heir."

"Apologies, Sir," says Braxus, "But I thought you should know that our scouts are two days late in reporting on the events of Akir."

"So?"

"It is very unlike them, Sir," says Braxus, "They have always been prompt with their reports. Especially these three."

"What? You think those pathetic villagers got the drop on them?"

"It's unlikely, but it is possible. Even a ram will lower it's head and charge when threatened. They may have felt that you have gone too far by taking their leader's daughter."

"Very well, Braxus. Take two score men and go see what those three are doing. If the Akira have anything to do with their absence, punish them accordingly. But remember, we still need their food for the winter."

"Of course, Sir," sayd Braxus and takes his leave.

Karak turns around to see Nanelia trying to cover herself with the bed skins. "Now," he says, "Where we're we?"

"Why must you hurt us so?" asks Nanelia, "What have we ever done to earn such animosity?"

Karak walks up to her and slaps her across the face with the back of his hand. "Talk to me like that again and I will have each and every man in my horde have his turn with you!" he shouts, "If the Akira were not meant to be sheared, then the gods would not have made them sheep!" And with that he grabs the bed skins, pulls them away, and then pulls Nanelia's legs out wide and forces himself inside her once again.

In the village of Akir, Malak is keeping the children of the village entertained with his Court Jester skills. Tumbling, taking Pratt falls, making funny faces, walking on his hands, and juggling. He currently has four fresh apples dancing through the air as the children laugh and applaud. Madmartigan an Red Sonja are putting some of the farmers through training drills, while Deathstalker and Subotai are teaching others how to use a bow and crossbow. Conan and Beastmaster are training the few Akira who have been given Jun swords some basic sword fighting techniques. Conan has to admit that for a bunch of novices to the ways of combat, they were becoming quite proficient. Suddenly Dar stops with their exercises and steps aside, a look of concentration, and perhaps even worry, upon his face.

"What is it?" asks Conan, "Why have you stopped?"

"The Juns are coming," replies Dar, "They'll be here soon."

"Are you sure?" asks the Cimmerian.

Dar nods his head affirmatively. "Sharak showed them to me through his eyes," he says, "There are at least forty of them by my count. They're being led by a large man with shaven head and cleft chin."

"That would be Braxus," says Shad, who was not far away and listening in, "He is Karak's second in command."

"Karak must have finally missed his scouts," says Dar.

"He will soon be missing a whole lot more," says Conan confidently, "Go get everyone in position. We're about to add some more swords to our armory."

"And some more scarecrows for sentry duty?" asks Shad.

"You learn quick," replies Conan, "Now go!"

Shad runs to do as he's told, and the villagers immediately take their assigned positions. The children who are too young to fight all find places to hide from the Juns. Kura and Sawa run up to Malak and hug him about the waist. "Be careful, Raggedy-Man," says the girl. Malak hugs them back and then motions for them to go hide. Once everyone is in position, the seven mercenaries meet up in the town square.

"When the Juns get here," says Conan, "I will do the talking."

"You?" says Madmartigan.

"Yes," replies the Cimmerian.

"No offense, but you hardly look like a leader. You look more like a barbarian. Heck, you could even pass for being one of the Juns themselves. The Hyrkanian isn't much better, nor Deathstalker. Sonja here looks more like she belongs in a brothel than on a battlefield. . . . No offense."

"Blow it out your ass Madmartigan," she replies, "No offense."

"Look, my point is, out of all of us I am the one who looks most like a military leader. I am a lord, the Stewart to the throne of Tir Asleen, guardian to The Sacred Princess Elora Danan, and general of her armies. As such I think . . ." Conan grabs Madmartigan by the front of his armor and lifts him up off the ground with one arm, "that you should do the talking when the Juns get here. What say the rest of you?"

Subotai and Malak chuckle at this, and Red Sonja, Dar, and Deathstalker have to fight hard to hide their smiles. Conan drops Madmartigan to the ground and they go and take their positions. Braxus and his forty Juns come riding into the village. They rein their horses to a halt in the town square, where they find Malak whistling a tune while juggling the four knives from his boot sheathes. Malak pretends to be surprised by their arrival, and then begins juggling his knives even higher in the air. Then as the knives fall down to within his grasp, he snatches them from the air one after the other with his right hand and transfers them to his left hand. First one, then two, then three, and then he catches the fourth and final knife in his right hand and dips into a bow. Braxus leans over the horn of his saddle and glares at the thief. "Just who the hell are you?" he asks.

"His name is Malak!" says a voice from off to the side. Conan steps out from around the corner, his Atlantean sword sheathed at his hip. "And he is with me."

"And just who are you?" asks the Jun.

"I am Conan," replies the Cimmerian.

"What are you doing here?" demands Braxus, "This is our village."

"No longer!" says Conan, "I speak for the Akira now!"

"So the Akira have hired themselves a couple of mercenaries, have they?" says Braxus, "We'll I'm not about to be chased off by a juggler and a lone barbarian!"

"Then it's a good thing he's not alone," says a voice from behind. Braxus turns around to see Deathstalker on a rooftop behind him and to the right, an arrow nocked in his great bow, waiting to be drawn.

"And not all of his allies are jugglers," says another voice, as Subotai becomes visible on the rooftop of a house just across from where Deathstalker is perched. He too has an arrow nocked and drawn.

"Four, eh?" says Braxus, "You're still outnumbered ten to one."

"Juns must be really bad at math," says Madmartigan as he steps out of a doorway, aiming a locked and loaded crossbow at the Juns, "What do you think Sonja?"

Red Sonja steps out of another doorway on the other side of the Juns, her sword drawn and the blade casually resting on her shoulder. "I never really gave them much credit for being big thinkers to begin with," she says.

"Still forty against six," says Braxus, "I still like our odds."

"Funny thing about playing the odds," says Dar as he casually walks into view, "Sooner or later, they can turn against you."

"Beastmaster!" hisses the Jun. Of all the names in all the languages in all the world, none filled a Jun with as much loathing and contempt as the one which Dar is best known by.

This is enough for the Juns. Braxus draws his sword and screams "Kill them all!"

Madmartigan immediately fires his crossbow and kills one of the Juns before drawing his sword and charging into the melee. Deathstalker and Subotai begin firing arrows at the Juns. Each arrow finds its mark and slays one of the barbarians. Subotai fires his arrows far more quickly than Deathstalker, but Deathstalker's arrows are far more impressive, sometimes going all the way through the body of one Jun to continue on and bury itself into the body of another.

Braxus charges right for Conan. The Cimmerian draws his sword, but has to drop to a knee in order to keep from being decapitated. As he stands up, however, he cuts one Jun down from his horse, then another, and then another. When Braxus misses the Cimmerian with his sword, he instead charges straight at Dar. The Beastmaster parries the Jun's attack with his own sword, but fails to score with a counter attack as he rides by. He is more successful cutting down the other Juns as they ride by, however. One of the Juns tries to attack the Beastmaster from behind, but Ruh leaps from a nearby rooftop, pouncing on the Jun and tearing into him with teeth and claws.

Red Sonja cuts one Jun after another off of their horses as they ride past her. Some of them attempt to cut her down with ax or sword, but she manages to either dodge or parry any such attempts. Meanwhile Malak is throwing his knives into every Jun who is in range. He downs four of them in a matter of seconds before any of them even realize that he is there or that he poses a threat. One of the Juns spurs his horse into a gallop, heading straight for the thief, causing Malak to turn and run. He scrambles up a pile of firewood next to a house and then climbs up onto the roof. The Jun loses track of him, and Malak uses this opportunity to leap down behind him. He lands on the back of the horse, a knife in each hand, and stabs the Jun in front of him in the sides several times, and then slashes the Jun's throat from ear to ear. Malak pushes the dying barbarian off of his mount and spurs the beast into a gallop towards the rest of the Juns. Two of the Juns wheel their horses about to confront the thief, and Malak sends his twin knives soaring into their throats as he charges them.

Malak draws the two knives from the back of his belt and hurls them into two more Juns, hitting the mark and killing them both. A group of about twelve Juns turn their mounts about and charge after the thief. Malak turns his own mount around and flees. The Juns chase Malak down the street, where they find themselves being fired upon from all sides by Akira armed with bows, slings, and crossbows. The Juns fall from their mounts, arrows and crossbow bolts protruding from them at all angles, some of them dead, others just badly injured. More Akira come running from their homes, armed with sharpened sticks and wooden clubs, and finish then off. Then they take the Juns' fallen weapons and arm themselves with better weapons.

A group of Juns comes charging past Kaylar's house as the old man steps out of his front door, crossbow in hand. He takes aim and fires, killing a Jun barbarian. Another Jun sees his companion fall and charges at Kaylar in order to take revenge. As he comes near to the old man, Shad bursts from his father's house, dressed in his father's armor, and drives his trident into the Jun's chest. The center prong pierces the barbarian's heart, while the other two prongs puncture the lungs on either side. Shad draws his father's scimitar from its sheath and holds it up high. "Death to the Juns!" he cries.

At his proclamation, the houses empty of their occupants. Dozens of Akira storm the streets armed with captured swords and battle axes, wood axes and butcher knives, hunting spears and tridents, pitchforks and shovels, or simply wooden clubs and staffs. The Juns, their numbers decimated by the skills of these seven mercenaries, are now being overwhelmed by the Akira's suddenly superior numbers.

Braxus looks about at the disaster that has befallen him and his men. Juns are being pulled from their horses. They're being slashed, stabbed, skewered, bludgeoned, and beaten. Of the forty who had accompanied him to Akir, less than a dozen remain and they are being quickly overwhelmed. Braxus spurs his horse into a gallop and heads towards the main road into the village, only to find the way blocked. The Akira had rolled a cart into the road, preventing his escape. The Jun makes for it anyway, goading his horse to even greater speed. The horse makes an incredible leap, clearing the wooden cart and landing safely on the other side. Conan sees him fleeing.

"Subotai!" cries the Cimmerian, "Braxus! Shoot him down! Don't let him escape!"

Subotai takes aim with his bow and lets fly an arrow. He misses his target and instead hits the Jun's mount in its hind end. The horse nickers in pain and its hind leg buckles, but it continues its flight. Subotai lets fly another arrow. This time his arrow strikes home, but it only hits Braxus in the back of his shoulder. Quickly Subotai nocks another arrow and fires again. This arrow strikes Braxus in the lower back, just to the left of his spine. Subotai tries again, this last arrow hitting Braxus in the buttocks.

"Deathstalker!" shouts Subotai, "He's getting too far out of range! Can you hit him?"

Deathstalker nocks an arrow to his great bow and draws back the string. Taking careful aim at the fleeing Jun he lets fly. His arrow strikes Braxus in the other shoulder, but with enough force to go clean through so that the arrow head is protruding from the front. Braxus slumps over his mount, but keeps on riding. Deathstalker nocks another arrow and takes aim, but the Jun has made it to a bend in the road and is no longer in sight. The Akira cheer as they see the injured Braxus flee, his forty companions laying dead in the streets of their humble village. Shad runs up to Conan, bloody scimitar in hand.

"Conan!" he says, "We won! Should I go after him? I'm a good hunter, I can track him easily!"

"No," says Dar, who is not far away, "Let him go."

"But he's seen our defenses," argues Shad, "If he can tell Karak what we've done here, they could come up with a counter strategy."

"Perhaps," agrees the Beastmaster, "But allowing him to return home is important for other reasons."

"Like what?" Shad asks.

In response, Dar holds out his arm and imitates an eagle's cry. A moment later Sharak swoops down and lands on the thick leather bracer on the Beastmaster's arm. Dar gently strokes the bird's feathers and then tells it, "Follow him."

The eagle takes wing and flies up into the air in the direction that Braxus was fleeing. The Beastmaster turns to the young farmer. "Like learning the location of their Hidden Fortress," he says.

Shad can only nod his head in agreement.