(-a/n- Here is an extremely long chapter. It was going to be even longer, but I ended up having to split it into two chapters, I hope you don't mind... I've spent the first two days of my summer holiday writing this so I hope you all enjoy it :D It's late and I'd rather get this chapter posted than write all of the reviewers names down and have to wait till tomorrow. If you reviewed you know who you are –thanks for the wonderful encouragement.)
Confusedknight xx
A knock on the door brought Kel back to her senses with a jump. She opened her eyes slowly. Lying on the bed, still fully clothed, Kel had been drifting somewhere between the realms of consciousness and slumber. She sat up stifling a groan; her limbs felt like they were made of lead.
The person knocked again and with an almighty effort, Kel propelled herself upwards. She grabbed her sword from where it was propped against her bed and went to the door. She had been given this room at the same time as her induction into the army; a perk of being a sergeant. Kel had moved out of the dormitory that she had been sharing straight away.
Kel opened the door a crack and upon seeing Alex's face, let it swing wide open.
Kel stepped back into the room, allowing Alex, who was carrying a large burlap sack, to come in. Like Kel he wore the navy blue shirt that signified his rank as a sergeant, and like Kel he looked dishevelled.
'Tired?' he asked.
Kel nodded wearily.
'When I hear tell of the glories of being in an army,' Alex said, 'I laugh. I laugh and I laugh because they don't know the half of it. Being in an army isn't a glorious job, it's a long hard, sweaty slog. And you know the worst of it? No matter how hard you push your men, how hard you train them, when you go into battle you will lose men.'
'I know,' sighed Kel. 'It's just the more that I work with the men…I know the names of their wives, how old their children are… I know their funny habits and quirks…and yet I also know that in a couple of weeks time any one of them could be dead. All of us could be dead.'
'It's something we as commanders have to accept,' said Alex gently.
'I know,' said Kel again.
After a moments pause Alex said; 'I took the liberty of using your tournament winnings to have you some proper armour made.'
And setting the sack on the floor, Alex drew out a breastplate and chain mail. It was made of dull, slightly blue-tinged steel. Kel stepped forward for a closer look. Alex handed her the chain mail shirt. When she looked closely Kel discovered that each individual link was much smaller than normal, making the shirt much finer and more flexible than the one she had been borrowing from the army supplies.
'Alex,' breathed Kel, 'This must have cost an arm and a leg.'
'Only one arm,' joked Alex tiredly. 'Besides it was your winnings.'
Kel pulled the mail shirt on –it fit perfectly.
'I got your measurements from the clerk that kitted you out with your uniform a few weeks ago,' he yawned. 'Try on the breastplate.'
Kel obeyed and pulled it on. Like the shirt it fitted snugly to her shape and was much lighter than Kel had expected. Although the metal looked dull, it was obviously of the same high quality as the mail; allowing it to be strong as well as light.
Kel swung her arms a few times and discovered that it didn't impede her movement in the slightest. Smiling, Kel opened her mouth, but couldn't think of anything to say and shut it again.
Alex then handed her a pair of matching chain mail leggings, a round helmet and wrist guards. Kel was about to protest over his lavish spending when the next item Alex pulled out made her freeze.
He handed it to her and Kel took it, her hands trembling.
'Go on,' urged Alex.
Kel drew the sword from it's plain leather sheath. Blue tempered metal shone up at her from the finest blade Kel had ever laid eyes upon.
'Alex, I can't accept this,' she gasped, 'you certainly didn't pay for this with my winnings.'
'It's a present,' said Alex. 'For all you've done for me.'
Kel examined the blade even more carefully. Inscribed at the hilt it read 'You will always have the strength and courage' in tiny letters. She hefted the sword, which bore very little difference in weight to her old sword, despite it's extra two and a half inches of length.
'You can keep your old sword as a reserve,' said Alex, indicating the two swords he had strapped to his own hips.
With a feeling that it would be pointless to argue with Alex, Kel accepted the weapon.
'Meet me on the courts tomorrow morning,' said Alex 'and you can give her a try.'
'I have to train-'
'They can have a few hours off to be with their families,' said Alex. 'A couple of hours won't make much difference now.'
'Alright,' agreed Kel, sheathing her new sword.
'Now you get some rest,' instructed Alex, ruffling Kel's hair.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind Alex, Kel kicked off her boots, undid her belt, removed the armour and climbed onto her bed, new sword in hand.
She unsheathed it and stared for a few minutes at the blade made from the realm's finest steel. She ran a finger over the engraving.
'Courage,' she whispered, 'I dub thee Courage.'
And laying the sword on the floor next to her bed, Kel settled down and closed her eyes. Her last thought before she slipped into oblivion was 'we've got work to do.'
Kel swung Courage in an overhead cut downwards, her feet moving in synch with the rest of her body, creating a deadly combination. Her sword, now nearly three weeks old glittered and shone as it reflected the midday sun.
Alex completed a three-part attack, driving Kel backwards. In an attempt to combat the onslaught of blows, Kel adjusted her feet, but had miscalculated slightly. The second it took to regain her footing was the second it took Alex's sword to wind it's way to Kel's neck. His naked blade rested upon the skin above Kel's neck guard.
A smattering of applause filtered in through the senses that Kel had previously been ignoring. She stepped back and reached for a water skin. Over the past few weeks she had beaten Alex exactly four times out of countless duels they'd had together. Still she thought, gulping more water greedily, four times is better than not at all.
Without warning a deep horn sounded from the very top of the city. Everyone froze hearts in their mouths as three more notes were blown. They all knew what it meant; the enemy had been sighted.
As soon as the last note died the city folk fell into uproar, panic. The men of the army simply stood, grim-faced, acknowledging perhaps what was about to descend upon them.
'Come on,' muttered Alex, steering Kel by her shoulder through the crowd. Kel didn't need to ask where they were going; by now the path to the watchtower was familiar to her.
When they arrived at the watchtower, Kel and Alex were let in without question. On the platform at the top, Tor, Gemmel and his advisors were already stood, motionless. As Kel stepped forward she squinted into the horizon, her eyes scanning for the enemy. Once her eyes adjusted to the light, Kel saw it, stretched out in the distance, a black scar wide and advancing.
'So Maggur has come,' said Gemmel calmly. 'Place the city into lock down. Barricade the gate and get all civilians into their basements. I want the streets cleared for army use. Have the healers gather their supplies and meet in the great hall.'
Gemmel's manservant bowed and hurried off.
'He won't attack today,' murmured Gemmel. 'He will take time to set up his camp.'
Throughout the afternoon, as Gemmel had predicted, Maggur's army simply advanced until it was about seven hundred metres from the bottom of the slope on which Somalkt stood. It was the largest army Kel had ever laid eyes on.
'There's got to be at least thirty companies,' Tor had said weakly.
Near silence had descended upon Somalkt and on the wind Kel could hear the noise of Maggur's army setting up camp. She breathed in deeply; the hot air was suffocating and thick, scented with pollen and strangely iron.
Despite it being easier to defend Somalkt than attack it, the odds were stacked against them. Three thousand men, against one thousand.
The flag above Kel whipped and danced in the wind. The flag of Somalkt was navy blue with a mountain and keep emblazoned across it. Kel wondered how long that flag would remain flying. Could they last two days against the sheer numbers that Maggur had brought with him?
Through a spy glass borrowed from the watchtower guard, Kel could make out Maggur's camp much more clearly. A sea of tents carpeted the ground and hundreds of horses, thousands of men milled about. Right at the very centre of the camp flew the mighty flag of Rathhausak, an eagle soaring against a blazing red backdrop.
Earlier on, when Alex had taken a look through the spy glass his face had darkened. Kel couldn't imagine what it must feel like for Alex to be fighting against his clan. He had probably grown up with that symbol, the symbol of his inheritance and position that was now being used as Maggur's symbol of destruction.
Alex had left shortly afterwards to visit Rhonda, his face unreadable.
Kel was alone now, except for the watch captain who had been ordered to keep an eye on the army and it's movements. She let the hand holding the spy glass fall limply to her side and she sat down on the stone floor of the platform. Kel leaned her head backwards onto the cool stone of the parapet and closed her eyes.
Feeling the warmth of the sun on her face, it's bright light seeping through her eyelids, Kel wondered what it would be like in the Dark God's realm. Would this be one of the last times that she felt the sun's balmy rays?
To say that Kel wasn't scared of dying would be a lie. The fear of dying alone, in a foreign land far away from her family, simmered below the surface of her mind as she turned her thoughts to the people she knew back in Tortall.
Their faces all slid hazily across her mind's eye, somehow distorted and vague, unreal. Time had dulled the pain of leaving them all and now the void they had left behind was filled with other relationships; those she shared with Alex, Tor and strange though it may be, Rhonda.
She scrambled to her feet and allowed her legs to carry her down the steps of the tower and off through the maze of streets. Her mind was so busy that Kel barely noticed where she was going. It was only when she climbed up a set of great granite steps and entered the cool of the temple did Kel realise where she was.
Her leather shoes barely made a noise against the stone floor as she walked forward to the altar. There was a great statue of an inhumanely beautiful woman, looking proudly out at the non-existent congregation. Kel fell to her knees. It was the first time that she'd entered a temple since that day. And she began to pray, mouthing the words of her pleas in a jumble of languages.
Neal slipped into the quiet infirmary, savouring the stillness and peace; it was a stark contrast to the pages wing, where all of the boys were in uproar and a state of mild panic over the end-of-year exams.
He spotted Duke Baird sorting out linen bandages at the opposite end of the ward and made his way towards his father. The Duke turned and smiled at the sight of his eldest surviving son.
'Don't tell me you've injured yourself the day before your final exams?' said Baird, straightening up.
'Must I be ill or ailing to visit my dear beloved father?' asked Neal somewhat testily.
'Not at all,' smiled the Duke. 'You're lucky; I've just finished with my last patient.'
Together father and son, almost identical in height made their way into the head healer's office. Whilst Duke Baird restocked the bandages on the shelf, Neal sprawled on a chair, his long legs crossed at the ankles, hands resting on his stomach.
Just then the door at the opposite end of the infirmary swung open and in clattered three men; two guards and a cuffed, limping man.
'He got stabbed in a bar fight down in the Hen's foot,' explained one of the guards.
'We just need you to patch 'im up so's we can take him to the 'olding cells.'
'Come in,' said Duke Baird wearily.
He sat the cuffed man on his wooden work bench and made an incision in the man's breeches. The Head healer peeled back the blood soaked fabric and used a swab to clean the wound. He then pressed his hand –much to the brawler's protest- over the wound and within a minute shiny new skin replaced the tear in the man's flesh.
The officers departed, their now healed criminal in tow.
'You make it look so easy,' sighed Neal, who had watched the whole procedure with a wistful look.
'Well you decided to give up your healer's training.'
Neal sighed. They were back to this again. 'I'm halfway to being a Knight,' said Neal, 'Four more years of chasing a bruiser on a horse and then Queenscove has a knight of the realm.' He twiddled his thumbs absent-mindedly, 'maybe I could learn more healing once I'm knighted.'
A thoughtful look came across the Duke's face. 'Is that what you'd want? To be a healer and a knight?'
Shrugging, the eighteen-year old said, 'First I've got to pass the big exams and then spend four years with a man, who, according to Lord Padraig, will have me gagged within six hours of taking me on.'
'Are you confident about your exams tomorrow?'
Neal shrugged in a non-committal manner.
'You'll be fine,' encouraged Duke Baird. 'Just keep calm and remember that you've been trained well. It's rare for a page to fail the exams.'
'Hmm,' murmured Neal. 'Anyway I think I'm going to get an early night.'
Several minutes later he returned to his room and got ready for bed. Despite the sickening feeling of nerves that Neal got at every thought of the exams. It didn't take long for him to find comfort in dreamless sleep. As teenage boys will, Neal slept deep and peacefully.
It was quiet, too quiet. Kel's knees were numb from kneeling on the hard floor and when she stood up her legs tingled madly. It was nearly dark and Kel realised in shock that she must have been in the temple for much longer than she'd intended to be, lost in thought.
A mixture of meditating and praying had held her fear at bay for the time being, although Kel's heart appeared to be thudding so loudly against her ribcage that she wouldn't be surprised if Maggur himself could hear it.
Slipping back into the cool evening air, Kel saw that the sun was sinking down over the horizon, blood red in colour. She paused for a moment, feeling the breeze's fingers play across her face.
Suddenly the world beneath Kel's very feet seemed to shudder. Seconds later, there was an explosion about twenty metres to Kel's right. Dust and bits of rock hailed down upon Kel who shielded her head with her arms. Running blindly Kel tripped down the steps of the temple and rolled, coming to rest at the bottom of the steps. There were more explosions, this time from further away and Kel staggered to her feet.
As the dust along the street cleared, Kel could see a gaping hole in the side of the building. Catapults she thought, fear constricting her stomach. Kel hadn't expected to find herself at the mercy of such machines of war. She hated the feeling of helplessness. If I'm going to die here, then I want to die in combat, not crushed to death beneath a collapsing building.
Kel could hear other buildings all over the city being targeted, the booms as gigantic boulders hit the buildings of Somalkt, smashing them apart. Screams and shouts could be heard from other parts of the city over the sounds of destruction.
Another rock smashed down through the roof of a house further down the road and Kel began to run up the street, stumbling over the debris that lay in her way. The rocks from the catapults landed at random, leaving a pattern of destruction behind them.
Choking on the dust and still running through street after street, Kel thundered up to higher ground. She had no idea if the top of the city was any less of a target than the bottom but she couldn't remain where she was, waiting for death.
In the dark and dust Kel became disorientated. The once familiar city appeared unrecognisable. Suddenly something flew through the air twenty feet above Kel and exploded into a building. Flames blasted out of the building and the shock of the impact sent Kel flying backwards into a wall, where she landed with a sickening crunch. The world swam in and out of focus.
Flames licked up the walls of the building, unnaturally high and powerful. Their reflections flickered in Kel's partially opened eyes. Choking smoke curled outwards, causing her eyes to sting and coughs to build in Kel's chest. The reflexive racking coughs bought Kel back to a state of consciousness and she crawled blindly away from the searing heat of the burning building.
Like an animal Kel crawled onto the next street and into a porch, to shelter herself from the debris and ash that was falling from the skies. She curled herself up, knees to her chest, burying her face. Dry sobs caught in her throat and her whole body shook in terror. Kel pressed her hands over her ringing ears, trying to block the sounds of the city's demolition.
The ground beneath her body still shuddering, Kel sat, unable to move herself. She was in shock after the explosion and couldn't have made herself move any further even if she'd wanted to. Through her fear, Kel wondered where the rest of the city's occupants were.
That night was the worst of Kel's whole life. In the darkness, unable to even contemplate sleep, time seemed to drag on, and yet Kel knew that any second she could be obliterated by a catapult's projectile.
Hundreds of miles away there were several others who were having difficulty sleeping. Merric, Esmond and Seaver were all tossing and turning in their beds, trying in vain to fall asleep. Merric kept imagining himself failing the exams and being forced to redo the past year whilst he watched all of his year mates go galloping off as squires. Esmond was fretting over archery –what if he missed all of his shots? Seaver meanwhile was imagining himself standing before the panel and finding himself unable to answer a single question.
Each boy was sweating in the sticky summer's night, and pounding their pillows and rearranging their blankets for the hundredth time, they set about trying to fall asleep.
Kel was also sweating due to a mixture of fear and heat, but she had no luxuries like beds or pillows, she remained slumped on the hard earth. And as the night continued on, the edge to her fear dulled and her sobs subsided. She waited for the new day and all that it would bring.
Finally, just as the sky was beginning to get lighter the explosions stopped and the only thing that could be heard was the crackling of burning wood. Soot-covered and bruised Kel forced herself to her feet and ventured out of her hidey hole.
A house two doors down had been burned to the ground. Fortunately, the hard spell-working of all of the mages had prevented the fires from spreading from building to building. Kel just hoped that the family who lived in the house had gotten out in time.
As Kel picked her way across rubble and wreckage she saw other people gingerly immerging from their houses, blinking and unable to believe that they had made it through the night.
Kel presumed that the battle would begin fairly soon and she set off in the vague direction of her room. Although Courage was strapped to Kel's waist, the rest of Kel's weapons and armour were still in her room, a room which she prayed was still standing.
When she arrived at the Sergeant's quarters it was a relief to find them more or less in tact. The window glass had been blown to smithereens by the shock waves travelling from the impact of rock on rock.
Stepping carefully into her room, Kel gathered up what she would need for the battle. She swapped her dirty, torn breeches for her mail lined ones, but kept on the same knee-high boots that she'd been wearing before. Next she pulled on the chain mail shirt and the wrist guards that she strapped on prevented the chain mail sleeves from flapping. Then she donned her breastplate.
On the belt at her waist, she attached her old sword and scabbard, as well as a five-inch dagger. Finally, Kel pulled out one of her larger navy blue shirts from the chest by the bed. Using the dagger, she hacked the shirt's sleeves off and pulled it over her amour, tucking it firmly into her belt.
Kel tore one of the shirt sleeves into a strip which she fashioned into a headband which kept her hair from falling into her eyes. She left the room without a backwards glance.
'Kel!'
She spun around to see Alex, also in armour, sprinting towards her. He stopped two feet from her.
'Gods you look terrible! What happened?'
Kel raised her eyebrows, thinking that it was fairly obvious why her face was scraped and soot stained.
'Didn't you get into a shelter?' asked Alex. 'I went back to the watchtower but the guard said that you'd already left. I looked everywhere I could think of. We were all sheltering in basements.'
Kel shuddered, imagining a house falling down and trapping her in the dark.
'We didn't expect Maggur to have so much blazebalm,' said Alex grimly. 'Half the city has been reduced to ashes.'
Still Kel said nothing. She couldn't quite believe that after last night that she was still standing here, able to watch the sun rising.
'Come on, the squads are assembling,' said Alex.
In silence they walked side by side through the smouldering city, like ghosts untouched by the destruction all around them. There was not a single street which did not show some sign of damage. Civilians had appeared from the basements and cellars that they had been hiding in. Several people were searching for survivors in rubble, whilst others were wailing for lives lost.
As they reached the large courtyard where the soldiers milled, Kel turned to Alex. She wanted to say so many things to the man who was closer than family, but before she could say anything, Alex said;
'Save it for later,' and he slipped away.
Kel understood; if they said goodbye then they were accepting that either of both of them would die. But they weren't ready to do that. Oh no Alexei of Rathhausak and Kel had unfinished business. She would at least stay alive long enough to say goodbye.
She slipped between the grim-faced men, until she stood with the men who had entrusted their lives to her.
By the time that Neal, Merric and the other pages awoke, Kel had already killed five men. Apart from a blow to the leg that was no more serious than a bruise, Kel was faring well in comparison to the men dying all around her.
Corpses littered the ground and Kel had to watch where she stepped. She parried a blow to her shoulder easily and slipped her blade between the gap in her opponent's plate armour. The sharp metal sank easily into the flesh and the man's eyes widened. Kel removed her sword and warm blood spattered across her face and torso.
There was no time to feel remorse, self-disgust or even relief, as the enemy pressed ever forward and Kel was soon engaged in yet another duel.
Although Kel was a natural fighter, that did not mean she enjoyed killing. On the contrary, she hated it. Kel liked fighting in practice courts, where it was simply a test of skill and nothing more than your pride was at stake. She liked fighting in a situation where she could disarm her opponent and bring him to justice that way. But war, war was a bloody mess, a waste of precious human lives.
Kel knew that if she aimed to injure rather than kill, those men would be patched up by healers and sent back out into the field. If the fighters of Somalkt were to have any hope at all, then every enemy she felled must die.
Blinking back the sweat that was running down her face, Kel killed yet another man. She tried to have a look around to see how they were faring but it was impossible to tell. The fighters were all massed together, the only differentiation between them being the red of Maggur's fighter's tunics compared to the blue and white of Somalkt's fighters.
The man next to Kel went down and suddenly she found two men fighting her at once. She sent one's sword swinging away and darted in to kill the second. It was then that she heard the horn call for retreat.
'Get back,' she roared over the clashing sounds of the battle. 'Fall back,' she yelled at the top of her lungs.
Her two opponents bleeding on the floor, Kel turned and ran, adrenalin thundering through her veins. Another Somalkt squad drove in front of Kel's fleeing men, holding Maggur's forces at bay.
Fifty metres from the battle field, Kel stopped running and looked around at her blood-stained warriors. She did a quick headcount. Fourteen men. Beneath their helmets Kel had difficulty identifying who had not made it. Nobody spoke; they hadn't the energy or the inclination to do so.
Kel recognised the numb feeling that had enveloped her. Later on she would cry for those who had died, for the horrors they'd all witnessed and taken part in. But now, she scanned the battlefield with her dreamy hazel eyes, taking in everything.
Kel's orders weren't clear about what she should do next, but she saw a horde of red soldiers pressing in at the right flank of the squads that had replaced Kel's.
'For Somalkt,' she cried, and blood pounding in her ears, she led her fourteen men back into the fray.
They managed to hold the red soldiers off, just. Even though reinforcements arrived in the form of another three squads, the sheer numbers of red soldiers were driving the defending force slowly backwards up the slope.
Kel did the best that she could with regard to keeping her men alive. She stepped in several times to help those who were having difficulty in defeating their opponents, but with men pressing in on all sides, it wasn't easy.
A big man bore down upon Kel, wielding an enormous axe with the ease as though it were made of nothing heavier than straw. Kel blocked his first thrust and whipped her sword past his axe. For a man his size, he was remarkably fast and he knocked Kel's sword away with the butt of his axe.
For the first time since the battle had begun, Kel was out-matched. At six and a half feet tall, the man towered over her with a bulky frame at least twice Kel's size. The blows to Kel's sword made her arms go numb, and soon Kel's blocks were two-handed just to cope with the sheer strength of the attacks.
Frustrated that he couldn't pick his smaller adversary off quickly, he upped the intensity of his attacks and Kel was now fighting in earnest for her life. She was a fraction of a second late in bringing her sword up and the axe smashed into her right forearm, just above her wrist.
'Page Nealan of Queenscove,' called a seedy voice.
Neal stood up, trying not to let his nerves show. The others smiled encouragingly at him as he drew his sword.
Neal bowed to the soldier who he was about to fight. The soldier ducked his head briefly and they began.
Neal had lived at court nearly all of his life and had been learning the sword since he was seven years old. Against the other pages he fared well, but he had no idea how good the soldier was. Hoping desperately that he wouldn't make a fool of himself, Neal began to duel.
He blocked the soldier's attacks smartly and responded with his own attacks. The unsmiling soldier gradually speeded up, allowing Neal to show the full range of his skill. Trying to ignore the watching examiners, Neal let his body do the thinking and after about five minutes had disarmed the soldier.
Neal bowed, his heart still pounding in his chest. It was only when he straightened up and sheathed his sword did he realise that the other pages were cheering for him. Neal smiled; perhaps the big exams weren't so bad after all.
If Kel hadn't been wearing chain mail and wrist guards then the blow would have easily severed her arm. As it was the blade bit down through leather and steel to create a deep gash in Kel's arm.
Kel's life was saved by the fact that Nariko, the old Yamani training master had drilled into her over and over to never drop her weapon. Without even thinking her left hand took over and Kel's right arm flopped uselessly to her side.
The axe came up, aiming for Kel's neck. Reacting instinctively, Kel twisted out of the way. The corner of the axe blade caught on her helmet and yanked it off of Kel's head.
Her opponent, shocked at discovering Kel was a girl, hesitated and Kel leapt in with unerring skill to bat his axe out of the way. Off-balance, the monstrous scanran staggered backward in the same instant that a mighty horn boomed across the battlefield, calling for retreat. Kel joined in the mad rush of soldiers back to the city, losing track of all her warriors in the melee and chaos that followed.
Luckily, Maggur's troops had been ordered to not break formation and they let the depleted Somalkt army flee back into the city.
Once inside the walls, Kel let Courage's point drop and she stood in the midst of the pandemonium. Healers were running out to try and tend to those who were most hurt. Grown men had collapsed against the walls of buildings, sobbing. Others, bleeding from superficial wounds were bandaging each other up.
A man missing an arm and screaming was carried on a makeshift stretcher past Kel. A woman ran past, calling desperately for her son. Everywhere Kel looked there were images of suffering. No one seemed quite sure what was going on.
Kel staggered over to a clear bit of ground next to the brick wall of an inn. She sat down heavily and laid Courage next to her. The sword's blade was marred by congealed blood. With her injured arm cradled across her stomach, Kel closed her eyes trying to escape from it all.
Now that the adrenalin was wearing off, she could feel bone-deep exhaustion setting in. She hadn't slept for nearly thirty hours and couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten anything.
Her arm was really beginning to hurt now. Kel looked down and observed with mild surprise the blood leaking from the gash. She tried to move her wrist but a flare of pain later discovered that she couldn't. There was no point trying to find a healer; they'd all be far too busy dealing with more serious injuries. According to the Yamanis you have to live with pain, thought Kel, slightly delusional, that way it doesn't have any power over you. Out of the blue she remembered what Neal had said when she'd told him that, "They sound like wonderful, cheerful people," had been his reply. Kel smiled weakly to herself and wondered what Neal was doing right now.
Neal sat awkwardly on one of the benches with the other fourth year pages, his knees bent uncomfortably. He had already taken his exam on the history of the realm and was watching Quinden struggle through his account of the battle of 233 H.E.
It was nearly over and so far Neal thought that no one had done too badly. Esmond had messed up his first few shots in archery, but after that everything had gone remarkably smoothly. They had been trained well.
Sipping some water, he applauded Quinden who was returning to the other pages, looking relieved that the history was over and done with. Now they had a written mathematics test.
Quite apart from looking forward to the exams being over, Neal and the other pages couldn't wait for the celebratory banquet that evening. There would be jesters and court musicians for their entertainment, as well as a sumptuous feast.
Neal yawned and absentmindedly healed a bruise on his thumb. Not long now.
'Kel!' suddenly Alex's concerned face loomed in front of Kel. 'Are you alright?' he asked urgently.
Kel nodded, but her throat was too dry from dehydration and shouting to speak.
'Come on, let's get you up,' he said, helping Kel to her feet. 'Tor wants us to meet him. Gemmel's dead.'
'What's Maggur doing?' croaked Kel, 'Why isn't he attacking?'
'He's playing with us,' said Alex grimly, as they walked up the street.
Like Kel Alex bore the signs of a hard mornings fighting. Dark brown blood was splattered across his tunic as though a painter had merely flicked a brush of brown paint at him. Kel wondered vaguely how many had died on Alex's sword today.
'What happened to your wrist?' asked Alex, suddenly noticing that the blood on Kel's right forearm was her own.
'There was a giant with an axe,' rasped Kel.
'Stenmun?'
'I'm not sure,' said Kel, 'I couldn't see his face. He was damn fast though.'
'I'll get Rhonda to fix it for you.'
Kel didn't bother protesting, she knew that it would be futile.
When they finally reached the building that was serving as military headquarters, they found a pale Tor giving out orders.
'We give my father the warrior send off that he deserves,' Tor was saying, 'And then we return to destroy more of Maggur's maggots.'
Men scurried off to relay Tor's orders.
When it was just Tor, Alex and Kel left in the room Tor's posture visibly changed. He slumped and rubbed his face with one hand, fighting off tears.
Kel didn't know what she could say that could possibly comfort Tor. Alex on the other hand, who Kel supposed had more experience at losing parents, clasped Tor on the shoulder.
'He died a hero,' said Alex consolingly.
Tor took a deep breath. 'I'm fine, are you two alright? It was rough out there…'
'Yes,' said Kel hoarsely.
Alex passed her a water skin from the table and Kel sipped water, revelling in the sensation of the cool liquid on her sore throat. Alex also passed her some bread to eat.
Just then Rhonda slipped in through the door. She was ashen faced and blood-covered too, although her blood wasn't arterial spray, but stains from those whom she had been desperately trying to save in the makeshift hospital.
'Why isn't the Somalkt flag flying?' she asked, snatching her own piece of bread and stuffing the food down her throat.
'The flag will be buried with my father,' said Tor. 'There will be no Somalkt once Maggur's finished.'
No one objected to this statement; they all knew it was only a matter of time before Maggur triumphed.
'Well we need some sort of flag or symbol,' said Rhonda through a mouthful of bread. 'The men are terrified.'
'Once my father's body has been dealt with, we will ride out,' said Tor. 'It's time to bring in all the cavalry we have. We are going to attack hard and fast, looking for maximum damage to Maggur's companies. Then we can retreat again. Maggur's in no hurry.'
'Rhonda can you take a look at Kel's arm for me,' said Alex, from where he stood next to Tor.
Rhonda turned and spotted Kel, who was propped against a wall, feeling slightly dizzy.
'Sit,' she commanded, and Kel obeyed, seating herself in a chair.
Gingerly Kel laid her throbbing arm flat on the table. As Rhonda eased off the wrist guard she swore under her breath in pain. When Rhonda rolled back the blood-soaked shirt sleeve and mail she saw that Kel's wrist was a mess. Rhonda washed the dried blood off, using some water and swollen, purple tissue was revealed underneath.
'This is a nasty break,' said Rhonda, probing gently. She looked at Kel, impressed that the girl wasn't making more of a fuss. 'I can start the healing process, but I can't spare any more of my gift.'
Kel nodded. A small, weak tendril of black fire encircled Kel's wrist and the pain receded a little. Even this small expenditure of gift caused beads of sweat to appear on Rhonda's forehead.
'Is there a sheet anywhere?' Rhonda asked.
Alex darted upstairs and returned with a white linen bed sheet. Rhonda used one of her many daggers to tear off strips and tightly bandage Kel's arm. She then eased the chain mail back down and replaced the wrist guard, strapping it tightly.
'The wrist guard should act as a temporary splint,' sighed Rhonda. 'It's the best I can do.'
'Thanks,' mumbled Kel gratefully.
Kel placed her good hand on the table to lever herself up. As it did so, a bloody handprint was left imprinted upon what was left of the bed sheet. Rhonda noticed this and took a closer look, spreading out the white material.
Without a word to anyone, she cut the linen into a rectangular shape.
'I've got an idea,' she murmured. 'Come here everyone.'
Tor and Alex joined the two women at the table.
'If we all place a handprint like Kel's…' Rhonda demonstrated by wiping her hand on a few of the bloody rags that had been used to clean Kel's arm. She then pressed down, so that her handprint was opposite Kel's, facing inwards.
Alex understood and made his own hand print, and Tor copied him. They all stood back to admire their handiwork. Against the stark white background were four reddish-brown handprints, all facing towards the centre of the flag at ninety degree intervals like the points of a compass.
'Mithros god of war, help us,' Tor prayed, 'Give our warriors the strength and bravery to defy Maggur.'
'So mote it be,' they all chanted.
Tor took a deep breath, 'For Somalkt,' he said in a quiet, determined voice.
'For Rathhausak,' echoed Rhonda, a steely note in her voice.
'For Scanra,' said Alex, finality in his tone.
'For the people,' Kel added quietly on the end.
'Shall we?' asked Tor, picking up the flag that was to become the icon of Alex's campaign.
Together they left the room, each taking on a defiant stance. Here were four people who would never bow to Maggur.
(-a/n- So what did you think? Please leave me a review :D )
Confusedknight xx