The Banished

Chapter 26

The High Hall was alive with activity as Gregor went around, watching his troops prepare for battle. Barrett had by that point had more than enough time with the banished and it was finally the second waves' turn to take over. Gregor knew that Barrett was a very proud man and thought that his men would take care of everything, but Gregor had seen how many banished there were. They were skilled fighters. Ruthless. They had something they truly cared about to fight for. He knew that it would not be as simple as Barrett thought.

"This is your first time as a general. Are you nervous?"

Gregor glanced at Mareth, who had come to the High Hall with him to see them off. "Not at all. Should I be?"

"You are in command of these people, their lives."

"I was when we went into the Dead Lands and I lost. This is my chance at redemption."

"You will lose life here, today," Mareth told him softly. "There is rarely a battle without it. Do not count your victories on the dead. Then you would never win. The men here know their place. They are soldiers of the capital. They serve the queen. They know that though they may walk into darkness, they are the light that shows others the way. And should that light be blown out, they should only be so lucky as to have it dimmed for the safety of the queen."

"You can say that," Gregor said. "You can say that as many times as you want. You can make it prettier than it really is. But the truth remains. When they're gone, they're gone. And their sacrifice will go widely unnoticed."

"Aye," Mareth agreed. "But they will die regardless one day. We all will. Better it be for the good of your people rather than in vain."

Gregor looked at him, but Mareth wasn't facing him at that point. They were in front of the group then and Mareth had his eyes on all the soldiers before him.

"Listen to me now," Mareth called out then. "Though I do not command you, you all know me well. The Overlander is the one to lead you into battle today. He is far more skilled than most and yet he is a novice when it comes to the ways of leadership. Should you wish to live, should you wish for him to live, you shall do what he says. Barrett has led others before us and we all know what a screw up he and his are."

That got a good laugh out of the group. Though it was widely known that Barrett was a stellar general and his soldiers were some of the most adept in all of the kingdom. He had chose all of his soldiers and was considered the elite of the elite these days. Gregor knew that his people without a doubt were aware that they were not nearly as skilled and if it wasn't for the fact Gregor was in charge of them, they'd probably have been sent out first and slaughtered. It was not lost on Gregor either.

"So now is your chance," Mareth went on. "Step up to the plate. There is no doubt in anyone's mind that even after we slaughter these fools, we shall have another battle right around the corner. And should you come back from this victorious, then in that next war, perhaps it shall be you that they fear. Not Barrett and his men, but you. And is that not something to fight for?"

That excited them for a moment and it gave Mareth a chance to pat Gregor on the back and whisper, "Good luck." With that, he was going, hobbling out of the High Hall.

Gregor didn't even look back at him. He only yelled for attention from his soldiers before heading over to Dionysus.

"Are you prepared?" the flier asked him.

"As prepared as I shall ever be."

"In my service to you, I request an invitation to the party for winning this thing."

Gregor grinned at him before patting his chest plate with his closed fist, the hard metal not denting in the slightest.

"You got it, buddy."

As they were fighting out in the empty space between the Fount and Regalia, part of each wave of troops had a few torch bearers coming along, as to light the way for them. Perdita had told Barrett that this was unnecessary, as the banished would need light as well and surely have fires burning. It was Gregor that told her this was not the case and from what he could tell, they had formed the ability to use echolocation, which would make sense considering where they lived. There was conceivably no light in the Uncharted Lands and if they were to survive, they would need to teach themselves this skill. It was not like they could keep fires burning at all hours.

Gregor was most fearful for the lives of the torch bearers and their fliers. He hoped that the banished had some decency as not to attack the unarmed, but you never knew. He was certain however that he would worry about them all through the fight.

You know, assuming that Barrett was not just being an overly confident prick. There was a slim chance of that, however, Gregor was sure.

"You are certain that you shall be fine when I leave you?" Dionysus asked Gregor as they flew through the air. "I regret not being able to stay with you during battle, but I am not-"

"I do not fight well with others," he told him simply. "It is probably my least preferred method. I thank you for what you have done for me so far regardless. It is hard at times, no longer having a bond. You have remained very loyal to me."

"It is merely courtesy."

Gregor grinned softly. "Merely."

He was not sure how long the flight was to be for, but his men were silent nearly the entire time. They did not joke or speak at all. No one knew for certain what they were getting, but it most definitely was not what they were expecting.

They could all smell the blood long before they arrived. They could hear the cries in the distance. The only problem was that they were fighting other humans for once, not any other creature. All the cries were the same, no matter what side they came from. They had no idea until they were truly upon the battle that something was wrong.

There was a spot that Gregor's troops were to stop, some yardage away from the main battle area. Barrett was supposed to meet Gregor there. It was a rough calculation, of course, but the second they touched down there, one of Gregor's torch bearers was to go find Barrett and alert him of Gregor's arrival. This idea lied in the fact that Gregor did not wish to send his men out into something that was already over. It was only when his torch bearer returned that Gregor realize that Barrett had not only miscalculated, but he had completely misjudge the entire situation.

"They are massacring us. They were prepared. These are their most skilled warriors."

"What?"

That was the first thing Barrett said when he jumped off his flier and landed in front of Gregor. The man was covered in blood and it was obvious that he had been in the fray himself.

"Your people will not be enough," Barrett said before looking at the other men on the ground with him. Picking one out in particular, more than likely because he had such a strong flier, the general said, "Ross, you shall go back to Regalia. Quickly. Inform Perdita and Helix that we need more men. Now. Even those not in the regular brigades. They have known about this for some time, it appears. They are far more prepared than expected. Do so. Now!"

The man did not even think about rejecting the order. He and his flier were gone quickly, though Gregor was not so sure part of it was fear of entering the mayhem himself.

"What's the plan then?" Gregor asked.

"Plan?"

"Of attack."

Barrett only shook his head at Gregor as one of the medics that had followed Gregor's group came running up to try and tend to some of his wounds. Barrett just batted the man away in annoyance.

"There is no plan, Overlander. They are savages. I would retreat, but to where? The walls? They will only head on to the Fount. They are wholly unprepared. We are the only hope. We have to-"

"Take a breath," Gregor told him simply. He had been in this situation before. One of the bloodiest battles he had ever seen took place during the Prophecy of Time. He knew horror. "If there is no plan, then we shall not waste time making one. Surely when Perdita arrives, she can devise something. For now, our only goal is to keep them from heading to the Fount, yes? Then let us go out there and kill them."

Barrett stared at him for a moment before clapping him on the shoulder. Then, turning, he addressed the troops, all positioned in their rows. He threw out some worthless military jargon to them, but Gregor knew it would be useless. If the battle was as bad as Barrett said, then there were no formations to save them. No fancy attacks. He knew that Solovet would be mighty displeased, but then again, Gregor far enjoyed pandemonium than he did controlled battle.

Gregor could tell his men were still apprehensive, even after Barrett's little pep talk. How could they not be? If the best of the best were getting their asses kicked, what were they to expect?

"Listen up," Gregor yelled then, as they started to talk in loud tones, almost drowning out Barrett. "I said listen up!"

He waited until they were silent, until all they could hear were the sounds of the battle only some miles away. Their torch bearers were still there, so Gregor was able to see his people full on in the dim lightly. Some of them looked downright terrified. He felt for them, he really did, but at the same time, he did not have time to coddle anyone.

"It is just as Mareth said before we left. You have a duty. Your duty is to the queen. If we let these people go, you know what they're going to do? They're going to leave here and some are going to go back to our home. They're going to go back to Regalia. And the other half? They're going to go on to the Fount. The Fount. You ever been there? You won't ever go if we don't stop this. So suck it the hell up. What did you think you signed up for? Huh? You wanted this. You wanted to be a hero. And now's your fucking chance. So if you're too scared, run. Hide, Never come back. I care not. But I know where I'm going. And it's out into that battle. Follow, leave, I do not care. But just stay the hell out of my way."

And with that, Gregor nodded at Dionysus before climbing on his back. Not waiting for Barrett or any of his men, the flier took off, towards the battle field.

"I will jump from your back," Gregor told him simply. "And then you shall head back. I do not know what Perdita will have planned, but should she need fliers to-"

"I will take back the wounded from the battle here and return to get more," the white flier told him. "It is only right."

Gregor nodded then before closing his eyes and clicking. He knew from the obvious light in front of them that they were close, but he relied far more on his echolocation than he ever did his true vision these days. When they were still some ways from the battle, he had the flier drop him, as he would much preferred to appear from the darkness than to come in leading the cavalry.

The air seemed to get heavier, though he was sure it was just the overpowering scent of blood in the air that made him feel that way. He was almost choking on it as it was always such a shock to his system, that smell of pure death. How could anyone ever become accustom to it? Who would ever want to become accustom to it?

When Gregor was in seeing distance of the battle, he took pause, scanning over the field. There was much chaos, as told to him by Barrett, but not so much so that things were backwards. There were no Regalians attacking one another or getting in each other's way. With two human forces clashing, you would need something distinguishing to keep such a thing from happening. The fact that those from Regalia were in such glorious armor in comparison to animal hide of their foes was that distinguishing factor. This should have given them a clear advantage, but it did not. Barrett's troops were the elite, therefore, far fewer than that of the banished. Gregor could tell, just from looking at the amount of banished in the immediate area that it was far more than had left Regalia before. More had joined them. Barrett was right. They had been tipped off.

He did not have long to contemplate this, nor did he have any interest in doing so. As much as he hated it, he was much like Barrett's men. There had been a long feeling of bloodlust that had swelled up in him as of late. He longed for a battle, a true battle, and now he was being given one.

He was attacked before he had a chance to form an offensive. It was a wild attack, some lowly banished solider, who took a wide swing at him without any real thought given to the action. Gregor easily skewered the guy without a second thought, quickly withdrawing his blade from the carcass. He worried when he first thought about fighting the banished that he would be unable to, given the fact that they too were humans. It was so rare that he had to kill another human, after all. Still, he could feel his rager sense bubbling under the surface and knew that it wouldn't be long before he lost complete control of himself, should he so allow it.

"Aye," he heard someone yell then. He could tell from the accent that it was someone from Regalia. "The Overlander has arrived. Backup has come!"

Gregor zoned them out though, figuring his time was best fit on the defensive instead of rescuing any poor soldier that was on the wrong side of things. It did not take long for Barrett to arrive with Gregor's men, the new fliers immediately taking to snatching banished from the ground and dropping them from above. It was a most sickening sound, a human hitting the ground as such an overwhelming height. No more sickening, however, than the sound of blades piercing and slicing flesh, humans screaming in agony as their light left them.

Gregor did not let his senses overtake him, however, as he continued his path through the enemy. He was on the look out for Vlad or Usha, not only to go ahead and take them out of the equation, but also so he could rescue Zander. Barrett had told him that they had been tipped off, however, and from what Gregor could tell that appeared true. If it was, that would mean that Vlad had most definitely sent Usha and Zander off, right? To somewhere safe?

He sure hoped so. Not that he wanted Zander gone, wanted him off with that wicked woman, those horrible cannibals, but it was better than the alternative, which of course was in that battle where he would surely die.

By that same token that he was certain Usha was gone, Gregor was almost certain that Vlad had stayed behind. The man had boasted several times about what a great warrior he was and Gregor had no doubt that he had stayed behind to instruct his men, if not join in himself. After all, most all fight stronger when they know that they have their leader there to impress.

"Overlander, you have a massive gash to your arm."

Gregor easily dodged the man in front of him, hardly looking at Barrett as he appeared next to him. "They have yet to make armor for the arm."

Barrett was distracted then as a big man came swinging at him with a battle axe. He effectively dodged the onslaught, quickly moving to slice into the man's stomach, splitting him wide open. Gregor did not have long to focus on that, as he had his own opponents to concentrate on.

"How long do you think it shall take then?" Barrett wouldn't shut up for some reason, but Gregor had no choice other than listening. "For them to show up? We need all the help we can get!"

"How should I know? I'm sure Helix had his troops on standby," Gregor got out as the person in front of him took a way too close swipe at his face. "Perhaps we can focus on what is in front of us for now, hmmm? No matter when they get here, we have a lot to do before that happens."

Barrett glanced at him before nodding. He was right. It would not matter when Perdita got there, if they did not live long enough to see it.

Suddenly, Barrett was gone. Gregor hardly noticed, but did take a moment to look up and see that his bond had come by, knocking him with her head to send him fly into the air. She easily caught him. They were not known for their air combat, Barrett and his bond. He was a much more skilled foot soldier. Still, his bond no doubt wanted to keep him safe and found that to be the best solution.

Gregor found his resolve once more, allowing the remembrance of his own bond to take over him, using it not to overtake his rager senses, but rather to unlock them in a way. He could still get angry, when he focused on it too long, about Ares' death. It was easy to channel anger into rage. He had lost Ares, there was no going back on that one. But he could still protect the rest of the ones that he loved. And at the moment, to do that he had to fight these people. He had to kill these people. And he would. Because when your options are kill or be killed, is there really any other choice than the first one?

He really did look for Vlad. He was certain that the man would be around. The problem was though, that Gregor also had others to worry about. Many of his soldiers had yet to see true battle, or at least not one so disorganized. It seemed like every time he defeated an opponent, he had to rush off to help out one of his soldiers. He knew what Mareth had told him about losing people and how it was inevitable, but Gregor gave it his all. He always did. He knew what it was like to have to come home alive, but without one of the people you care most about. He didn't want any of his soldiers to have to go through what he had.

Probably one of the worst things that happened occurred right after Perdita arrived. One of the torch bearers was shot off her flier by a rouge arrow that Gregor was almost certain had come from one of their archers. The fallen torch hit the ground and lit it ablaze almost immediately. The part of land they were on was very barren and dry. It did not take much to set it on fire. And being so far from the waterway, there was no chance of it getting put out. It got far too dastardly too quickly for it to just be stomped out. A few fliers tried to gather dirt in their claws and drop it over it, but it was useless. The fire would have to be contained alongside the battle. They could not just choose one or the other.

"Overlander," one of the men yelled at him eventually. He had just wasted another of the banished, but another soon took that one's place. Was there no end? "Perdita has called for you."

"I'm a little busy at the moment," Gregor retorted, annoyed.

"It is important, I assure you. She is the head of the military, need I remind you?"

That made the man groan, but he knew that the other guy had a point. He was not sure how exactly he was supposed to not only get out of battle, but also find Perdita while he was at it, but knew that he had to do it. He truly had no choice.

It took some doing, as there was no way for Gregor to turn around, for fear of being attack from behind. His only true option was to move steadily backwards until finally one of his soldiers called for him that she had his back and Gregor made a run for it.

A flier eventually picked Gregor up and flew him over to Perdita was. She was off from the battle, about in the spot that he and Barrett had met up when Gregor first arrived. She did not look pleased.

"Great," she said sarcastically not soon after the flier dropped him off. Barrett was standing there as well, being treated by a medic. He had taken a pretty horrible looking gash to his head. Gregor was still virtually unharmed, save the gnarly wound on his left arm. "Now that both are you here, would one of you idiots mind telling me how it all got this out of hand?"

Gregor knew it was his moment to throw Barrett under the bus, as things had been just as they were before he even showed up. Still, he only shook his head at her.

"We were outnumbered. From the start," he said with a careless shrug. Barrett, who finally pushed the medic away from him, gave Gregor a look. "We believe for it to all have been a trap the entire time."

"And what makes you believe that?"

"There are more of them than there were when they left Regalia, for one."

"That is impossible," she rebuked him. "Scouts would have seen any of them coming. We have scouts covering all areas."

"I cannot explain to you, I can only tell you what is," Gregor told her while Barrett only sighed.

"There was no choice for us, but to battle, if that is what you are upset about," the other man told her. "When the Overlander arrived, I was already fighting. I had to. We still have to. So you can either join us, or you can stay here. But I promise you, there is no way that you can come up with any plan of attack better than the one we have currently."

Perdita only stared at them. Then, turning, she said, "Do you think perhaps we should pull out? The queen has told me that if it comes to that, then so be it."

"Lu- Err, Queen Luxa was not behind this plan from the beginning," Gregor said, frowning. "And no, I do not advise that. We have lost plenty, fine, but would it not be in vain should we pull out now?"

"The Overlander speaks truth," Barrett backed him up. "Allow us to return to what we were doing. We-"

"What you were doing was unnecessary. Damn it, Barrett, you said that you would take care of things. How is it that no matter the battle, you always end up in it?"

"Is it not my duty?"

"Your duty is to oversee. If you still wish to be a soldier, that can easily be arranged."

Barrett bowed slightly. "And perhaps it shall. Right now though, I must get back out there. I would suggest that you follow suit. It's not much of a fight without you."

Barrett signaled his bond then, who readily flew him back out to battle. Gregor, though, was not as courageous when it came to disobeying his boss. He had only just coming into the position, after all. And he knew that Perdita had a point, one that Solovet had driven home to him many times during her reign over him as commander. Wars were won with meticulous planning and thought-out battles. The problem was, however, the clash that they were currently involved in was not a war. In fact, should they lose, that was when it would become one. Their best shot at it was to just go with the flow. If worst came to worst, they truly outnumbered the banished. They just had to keep fighting.

"Go then, Overlander," Perdita said, signaling as well for a flier to take him back. "We shall discuss your readiness to truly be a general later."

He gave her a slight bow, perhaps leftover from his time where Luxa was his direct superior. "Of course."

The fire was still going when Gregor got back, though he knew this. It was illuminating the whole area, honestly. Though he knew it could quickly become problematic, at the moment, it was helping those without the blessing of echolocation see better. Gregor was sure that that was a huge part of the problem from the very beginning, the dim lighting that the Regalians had. He was almost certain that though the fire was a complete mistake, it would only serve them better to have it.

His arm was killing him at that point, and he kind of hated himself once he arrived back at the battle field for not having it at least wrapped before going back out there. He was not as proud as Barrett. He knew when he needed something and in that moment, he needed attention to his arm. Still, it was too late at that point and there was no way that he was going to bother one of the medics out on the field with his injury while they were dealing with the dying. Though it had not clotted yet, he was certain that the battle would be finished before it affected him deeply.

His armor was wearing on him though, the longer he went on. It was heavier than guard armor, as the threat to a general was naturally more pressing than that of the royal guard. The only thing that he reveled in was the fact that he did not have to wear that stupid helmet any longer. It got itchy under there, having to wear it constantly. Not to mention, if there was anywhere he could easily protect, it was his head. Honestly.

The most annoying part of fighting the banished was their weaponry. It was more up to par than Gregor felt it should be. They had battle axes, hammers, swords, daggers. He wasn't too wise in the art of weapon making, but knew that it would have taken some equipment to fashion what they did have. Though, if they had been a band of misfits for as long as they portrayed themselves to be, perhaps, he figured, they had some form of a base out in the Uncharted Lands. One where they were able to produce their own weaponry. Or something.

"Shit," Gregor cursed when the man standing next to him, Valor, was completely skewered by one of the banished through the neck. He had seen deaths so far, of course, but that one shocked him for a moment. And should he not be allowed moments in battle to be shocked? They were dangerous, of course, and could lead to very bad things happening, but he should be allowed them nonetheless.

Still he had to spur on. He could tell, in the firelight, that they were making some headway then. And from what Gregor had seen, Helix had not yet arrived with his men. He had seen, however, York show up, in his usual glory, along with a few men. There was no way that there would be a fight so close to the Fount and the great York not show his face. He heard his infamous yell at certain periods as well. York's arrival also boosted spirits somewhat, as there was no way that they could lose with one of the most renowned soldiers of their time.

It was not until the last of the banished was killed that anyone really focused on that fire. It was a full on blaze at that point and Perdita had already went to work, having fliers over head with buckets clasped in their claws, water from the waterway filled up in them, to dump over it. Still, Gregor's job was done for the day. Err, rather the moment.

"Vlad was not among the dead," was the undercurrent of those living. All bodies were being checked, but the truth was clear. Vlad and Usha were nowhere to be found. They must have fled for the Dead Lands. This was most surprising to Gregor, as he was almost certain that Vlad was much like Ripred and York. He thought that he wouldn't be able to stay away from such a match, but apparently not.

"Come, boy. You did well, but now it is time for you to be treated well. And be blessed! This must be one of the only times that you have been able to walk away from a battle without being carried."

Gregor hardly looked at York as the bigger man patted him on the shoulder. "Aye, but I must keep on. There are-"

"You are a general now, boy," he said, giving him a hard look. "That is what I'm told, yes? Generals do not deal with the dead and dying. You are to head back to Regalia with Perdita and Barrett. Myself as well. Planning must take place. This is not your concern."

Gregor only shook his head, turning to continue walking the field as they checked the dead not only for Vlad, but also for life. For unconscious. Part of him felt an unwavering guilt, looking at the bodies of Regalians and the banished. He had been the one to tell Luxa this was the only way. That was him. He insisted. He said if they were going to kill Usha and Vlad, it had to be in the field. That field. In that moment. They had to do it the way he said.

…And yet they had failed. They had won, but they had still failed. Luxa didn't want to do this. She told him multiple times that there had to be a peaceful solution. She told him repeatedly. That if she just had more time to think about it, she would come up with it. But he was insistent. He was insistent that they do it the way that he said. That they killed them. That death was the only option for them.

When did she become Vikus? And more importantly, when did he become…Solovet?

"You shall stay here then," York finally said when it was clear that Gregor would not go with him. "I must leave though. From what I am told, my niece has been given the impression that the Fount treated Mareth rather…roughly. Given the mood she shall be in after all of this, I fear that I shall be in for quite the tongue lashing. If not just all around lashings. Take care, Gregor."

He got another hearty pat before York let him go. Gregor continued to help the needy, out in the field, only stopping when he was finally forced to get his arm looked at it. Not that he was the one who wanted to stop. It was the specific medic that forced him to that caused him to comply.

"We have got to stop reuniting in such ways, Gregor."

"Aye. It is only death, tragedy, or severe injury that seems to bring us together anymore."

Howard grinned at him as he poured some kind of liquid over the wound, making Gregor grimace. "You know, my cousin will be upset. From what I hear, the other generals have been gone for some time now."

"My place is here."

"My place is here. You are neither a medic nor a lowly soldier, left to carry the remains of his fallen allies away."

"I caused this," Gregor mumbled then, looking off. There were more torch bearers now and the fire was all, but out by that point. He could see just fine though.

"Why is it that you always blame yourself, Overlander, and my cousin always finds others to blame?" Howard finished wrapping his arm then with a sigh. "I must continue on, Overlander. You have no other injuries, no?"

Gregor shook his head. "I thank you, brother."

Howard just reached out to cup the back of the other man's head, patting him on it gently. "We all thank you, Overlander. Not nearly enough as we should."

So Gregor went back to work then, though he was growing tired by that point. It had been a very long day, after all. In fact, he was not so sure that it was not nearly on the next day by that point. And the longer he went on, the more he began to realize that he really did need to get home. As much as he hated it, he had to face the fact eventually that the battle had happened. They had won, but they had not yet killed the two main enemies. There was more work to be done.

Most people had left by the time Gregor was getting ready to head out. He was awaiting a flier while looking around one last time. All bodies had been checked by that point, and at the moment, body disposal was more the main objective. It had been awhile since his last meal at that point and though he did not exactly wish for food after what had happened, he knew that he would need to eat when he got back. He did not plan on being in Regalia long, after all. If Luxa and Perdita would let him, he planned to take off for the Dead Lands very soon, in search of not only Vlad and his wicked queen, but also Zander. There was no way that he could ever forget Zander.

"Aye, Barrett, you come to take me home?"

"That is actually exactly the reason I have come. You have been here longer than anyone else." Barrett and his bond landed not far from Gregor, the man shaking his head as he got off the flier. "The queen requests your council. And I think we both know what I mean by that."

Gregor did not have time to be angry or embarrassed or even to retort. He hardly had time to comprehend what was even said. For at the exact moment Barrett was speaking, one of the soldiers helping with the clean up grabbed one of the discarded battle hammers off the ground and ran up behind Gregor, bashing it into the back of his head.

Aye, perhaps those helmets do have their purpose after all.