Salvation Earth

There was just the faintest glimmer of light in the sky but the whole place throbbed with activity. The forges had been fired up and were smoking away. There was the sound of hammering and sawing, people coming and going. Nazine caught Gemma carrying some weapons up to the gatehouse. “They finally got you doing something useful, then.”

“In times of emergency, I’ll do anything,” stated Gemma.

“I’ll bet you will,” replied Nazine.

Arran walked out onto the terrace. He couldn’t remember when the place had been so alive. He saw Harrad leaving one of the forges and waved him over. Harrad ran up the steps two at a time, “Fair morn, Arran. Everyone knows what to do.”

“Fair indeed, Harrad. I want training set up outside the walls. We have soldiers here and some of Hal’s men will be over soon. We might as well get everyone as prepared as possible.”

“The soldiers worry me. Even with training, will they be up to it?”

“That is our main flaw. Look, here comes Zeb. Let’s ask him.”

Zeb wound his way across the compound and slowly climbed the steps.

“Not as young as I was,” he said, gripping the rotting handrail.

“Yes, just how old are you? And how come you have survived the death?” asked Arran.

“All in good time. All in good time. You will find out everything in good time. If, that is, you live to see it.”

“I will. Come on we need some positive input please.”

“Yes, you’re right, sorry.”

“Zeb,” interrupted Harrad. “What can we do to give the baron’s men an advantage? Something that will improve their chances and possibly, their confidence.”

“Hmm. Now that is a tough one. Let me see.” Zeb stood there for a moment, in silence. “Well, we need to make them feel invincible. That should do the trick.”

“Be serious will you, you old fool.”

“Yes, come on, how could we begin to do that?”

“Well, I think there is a way. We could put armour on them. They would feel a lot safer then.”

“Come on, Zeb,” said Arran losing his patience. “Where, by the Gods, are we to get hold of armour?”

“That, my dear fellow, is easy. The steel stuff is in short supply, I know. But you could make some.”

“This gets more and more daft. Several hundred suits of armour in a couple of weeks, simple,” snorted Harrad.

“It does not have to be full armour. Just breast plate, arms and shoulders. They have helms. You could make them from the terrace wall cladding.”

“No, it is forbidden. It will bring bad luck on us,” said Harrad looking worried.

“Nonsense, that taboo is just part of making sure the place is kept up. There is a solid wall behind the cladding. The stuff is incredibly strong. It will withstand a sword blow, and yet saw easily. It can be easily shaped when heated.”

“He’s right, Harrad. Remember when the tool shed burnt down? The wall next to it was all shapes, and it did not bring any bad luck down on us, did it?”

“What about this war, then? Could be that.”

“Your superstition will be the end of me, Harrad. I think the war is out of our hands. You must try to be realistic. Get a party to rip down the wall. Make a general pattern and try it out. Get an idea of the most effective shape and fit, then we will go into production.”

“I’ll get right on it,” said Harrad, disappearing down the stairs.

“That’s that sorted. I think we shall have a look at this blade of yours, Arran.”

“Yes, it’s in my room. Come on.”

Arran led the way up to his room. Nadine was trying to make some order out of the mess in there.

“Hello, Zeb. Have you had breakfast?”

“No, not yet, young lady.”

“Then I’ll fix you some,” she said and left for the kitchen.

“Here is the sword, over here with the chest,” said Arran unsheathing the blade. Zeb stood back, eyes wide.

“A fancy looking weapon, but there is not much to tell of its origins. Put it away, I think the chest will be more informative.”

Arran re-sheathed the blade and opened the chest. Zeb came over and knelt.

“Ah,” he said pulling out the two black panels. “These are energy packs, solar by the look of them.”

“Oh, is that good?” asked Arran.

“Well, it’s renewable, that helps. These are wires, and this is an aerial. It talks to the helm. These are indicator lights. You have pressed the first button. The rest must have other functions. You must not use this near here. It will bring trouble.”

“I have worked that out for myself,” said Arran.

“Good. Now look inside the lid. See these markings. I think they are instructions.”

“What, those scratchings?”

“Yes. It is a form of writing. Not one I am familiar with. It looks very unusual. Perhaps it is very ancient. But if we could read them, it would tell us how to use the thing.”

“You mean that a series of marks can tell you things?”

“Of course, You mean you have never read or even heard of reading?” asked Zeb, astonished.

“No. We have no need. Apart from the runes, which are symbols and self-explanatory. I have something else that might interest you, though. It’s in the basement. There are a lot of markings like these.”

“Oh, come then, this I must see,” said Zeb.

“Well I must light a torch. It’s pitch black down there.”

“Don’t bother with those smoky old things, leave that to me.”

“Your breakfast is ready now, Zeb,” called Nadine.

So, Zeb sat down to the best meal he had eaten in quite a while, flat bread, a soya hummus, sausage and eggs, runner beans, dried tomatoes and flagon of ale to wash it down.

“I feel this ale is too strong for me at this time of day, my good Nadine. But this food is magnificent. I never knew that such an abundance or variety existed.”

“Oh, yes we do all right,” said Nadine.

“Well, I would keep it quiet. If this got out, you would be besieged by all the lands, or at the very least, Vargen will move in, ha ha,” laughed Zeb.

“Don’t worry, he has already sampled it and my rolling pin,” laughed Nadine, as she walked away.

“Lead the way, Arran,” said Zeb, on draining the last of his ale.

Arran led him out and down the stairwell, past ground level and on down into the darkness. They came to a halt at the foot of the steps. It was too dark to make out anything, but there was a click and suddenly they were bathed in light far greater than Arran could have provided. A beam shone from the end of Zeb’s staff. They stood facing a corridor, the beam shone up as far as they could see. Arran could only marvel at Zeb’s abilities and wondered if nothing was beyond this tall wizard. They walked a short way along the corridor and stopped at a door. Arran got out a key.

“This is my family store. I have been clearing it out and found an old trunk in the corner, covered with rubbish,” said Arran. They went in and walked over to a large trunk.

“It must have been my father’s and his before him. But I never knew of its existence.”

Zeb opened the chest and exclaimed, “Books, dozens of them. You never knew? Books have been banned by the barony since the start of their reign. Their possession is punishable by death. I guess the barons wanted such complete control and people to only know what they were told. Your family took great risk.”

“Not really. Not even the baron’s men could get in here,” said Arran.

Zeb made a space and began removing the books.

“These are wonderful. So old. These are going to be a great help. Where I come, from our history has been tampered with. I do not know the truth about the past. It was my investigations that got me into trouble and I had to escape with my life. I have been hiding out ever since.”

“So, your leaders were just like the barons?” asked Arran.

“It seems that most leaders don’t like the people to know too much. I think I am going to be here for some time. Why don’t you go and leave me to it?”

“Suits me. I have plenty to do. See you later.”

Arran came out of the stairwell at ground level and walked over to the forge. Inside he found Harrad.

“Wow this stuff is fantastic. It really does resist a sword blow and forms easily when heated. Look we have designed the shapes,” Harrad said proudly.

“I think you have got it spot on, Harrad. We had better get a team together to produce this stuff and all work flat out. We’ll give it a couple of days and see how much we have done.”

The team was assembled and worked continually for two days. They were pleased with the results and thought they were on target for completion in less than two weeks. On the second day, Nadine came and asked Arran if Zeb had left.

“Oh, I had forgotten about him. I had better go and look. He must be still down in the basement. Nad, you had better get some food together. He must be starving.”

“Are you going to stay here forever?” arran asked Zeb.

“Oh, it has been a while. I’m sorry but there is so much here. Look at this.”

“No, come and get some eats, you can tell me all about it.”

Zeb demolished a double helping of Nadine’s finest cooking, sat back and removed his pipe. But before he could do anything with it, he fell fast asleep.

“Well, I am wasting time here,” said Arran.

“Look, he needs sleep. He’s not as young as you. Why don’t you go back to work and I’ll call you as soon as he wakes?” suggested Nadine.

Arran carried on into the night. The men’s speed was only restricted, by having just two forges to heat the amour on. Arran finally trudged back to his quarters only to find Zeb still asleep.

“I’ve never heard snoring like it. Kept me awake all night,” said Nadine bleary eyed.

“Never mind, Nad. It’s only temporary. Heat me something up, please. I’ll wake him. Better do him some more as well.”

Arran shook and shook Zeb. “Grumpf, argh what? Where am I? Oh, it’s you. Let me rest, damn you.”

“God, it’s like trying to wake the dead. You have had enough sleep for the two of us. I thought you had important things to tell?” asked Arran.

“What was that, then?” said Zeb sitting up and finding his pipe.

“The books.”

“Oh, yes the books,” said Zeb, sitting up even more. “Yes, the books. A remarkable find, young man. They cover a lot of history right up to the Great War. Are you ready for this?”

“Yes. You can tell me while I eat,” said Arran.

“Ah, is it supper time?” asked Zeb hopefully, lighting his pipe.

“Here you are, Zeb,” said Nadine handing him a small bowl. “The last time you ate a lot, you went into a coma for a day.”

“Nonsense. Well, Arran, around the end of what they called the twenty-first century mankind had reached the pinnacle of civilisation.”

“We know that the Great War ended a greater civilisation. The tale has been handed down,” interrupted Arran.

“Will you let me finish?” protested Zeb. “You have no idea of how advanced it was. Anyway, I shan’t bore you with the details, then. But the planet was highly populated and such self-supporting units, as yours did not exist. Everyone worked and was paid for their efforts. The employers grew by buying each other out and doing takeovers. I’m sorry, but these corporations grew into giants as their numbers fell. Until one day, there were only four of them. Let me see. Power and construction, Powercon, Military, Mining and Manufacturing, 3M, Transport and communications, WorldTransCom, And Nutrition and consumer domestics, Nutradom. I think they all speak for themselves.”

“Is all this necessary? I don’t follow you,” said Arran.

“Yes, and you will. You will. The corporations became more powerful than governments and were not restricted by boundaries. Corporate law took over. Workers’ rights were scrapped. The nation state was at an end. You see, the corporations could shift their operations to where the labour or materials were the cheapest. The affluent societies grew in poverty. Once in power, the corporations advanced in robotics until manual labour was no longer needed. The corporations looked after their employees and their families. One was either a member of the elite or an outcast. The third world was no longer needed for cheap labour. The working classes of all races were now beggars, abandoned, to barter amongst themselves for scraps. There were huge corporate hypermarkets with guards on the roof, where the elite could obtain whatever luxury goods they wished. The outcasts used to beg and gather there searching for scraps and waste that was thrown out. Outside the hypermarkets, the outcasts formed their own markets called boot markets. Here they would come, dressed in rags, and trudge round looking at the rubbish hoping to trade for some and pass it on to someone else. Dissatisfaction and hatred of these new high-powered capitalists grew beyond belief until Islamic religious fanatics smuggled nuclear warheads into the major cities with the help of peasants and detonated them. This caused automatic retaliation resulting in every country unleashing their nuclear arsenals in panic without knowing who started it. The planet became almost uninhabitable. However, the corporations escaped to places they had already been building. Many generations later saw the survivors with a medieval economy and low life expectancy due to radiation poisoning. Life as it was known had changed beyond all recognition. That, my dear fellow, is how we got here.”

“Well, all that does not really tell me much more than I already know.”

“But the details are incredible. The lack of concern for life by these corporations was terrible.”

“It’s no different today. Do you think the northern tribes have any concerns? Or even the baron, for that matter?”

“Well, my boy, it has answered a lot of questions for me. In the morning, I, shall carry on. You never know what it might turn up.”

“OK Zeb, goodnight.”

It was twelve days before they decided they had made enough armour. Zeb had left on the sixth day. Arran ordered a day of rest. Everyone had worked to the point of exhaustion. They sat around or slept on that last day. The next day they would set off on the return journey with the barrows loaded with armour. The barrows were loaded and lowered outside before nightfall.

The day turned out to be dull with a light drizzle.

“Not good weather for our journey,” said Harrad.

“Could be worse. Let’s hope it is raining hard up north. That will make it difficult for their army to travel. We will have quite a force by the time we get back to Cam. We will be picking up men all along the way. Nad, would you like to ride on a barrow?”

“There’s nothing wrong with my legs,” she said.

“You can say that again,” said Arran with a silly grin. “Let’s get moving. I don’t expect any trouble, we are a large force and not carrying any food.”

“Can we rescue those people trapped under the hill?” asked Nadine. “We have more than enough manpower to dig them out. We can’t just leave them.”

“But then what would we do with them? We can’t babysit them with what is to come. They would come out only to be murdered by the invaders,” answered Arran.

“Let’s give them the choice. We can break through to them and if is safe for them later, they can let themselves out. We might not be around to do it. They need our help, Arran. I have the feeling that they are tied in with our destiny.”

“We are short of time, Nad. But if you insist. You are always right about these things. We will take some spades and picks. We can leave them at your brother’s.”

Once again, they set off on their journey, a slow march towards the north. On the third morning, they approached Nadine’s hill.

“I can sense them already, Arran. The contact is getting stronger, they know we are coming.”

“So soon? You had better get a direction on their door, so we know where to dig,” said Arran.

Arran kept back half the soldiers and ordered the barrows onward, thinking that he could soon catch up with them. Nadine circled the hill, concentrating. She came to a halt, paused and nodded. Then she looked at Arran and pointed.

He turned to the soldiers and said, “Right men, grab a spade, there’s some digging to do.”

They all looked at one another and one said, “Digging is not our job.”

“Well, it is now. We can all help and take turns. It might be important,” said Arran.

So, amid mumbles the men took up a spade and began to dig. It turned out to be a bigger job than they expected. Arran began to think they would come out the other side of the hill, when suddenly they struck a wall. He realised that they had not gone as far in as he thought, but had seemed to remove as much earth as the hill contained. Everyone, now eager to see just what they had found, worked faster than ever. They cleared more earth exposing a large smooth stone area. Arran stood back and smiled at Nadine.

“They are just the other side. They say thank you, Arran.”

“Tell them think nothing off it, we are used to digging. This has taken far longer than I expected, Nad. It will be dark soon. We need to camp, but not near here. I am concerned for you. And what if these things get out? They will have the advantage in the dark.”

“Do not worry, Arran. They will not harm us. They cannot. We will camp here.”

“If you are sure.”

“Sure.”

“We have no food,” said Arran.

“We must go hungry, then.”

“Good job Vargen’s not with us. He would moan all night.”

As if by magic a section of the wall began to open outward. The soldiers dropped their spades and ran screaming.

“That’s the fastest I’ve ever seen them move,” said Arran suddenly looking serious.

The door inched open, but Arran could not see into the pitch black within. Figures moved in the gloom. Then out walked the hairiest man he had ever seen. Everyone stepped back. Arran didn’t think he looked that ape-like, even with so much hair and beard. Not that he really knew what an ape was like. Apart from stories told to children of their believed origins, no one had seen one. The ape-man walked up to Arran, who kept his ground.

“Arran of Greyhaven we are eternally grateful to you for our rescue. My name is One One Six Four. My people and I pledge our lives to you. We are the watchers.”

“I hear your words One One Six Four. But your lips do not move.”

“That is good. You hear my thoughts through Nadine, she is close to you. I have no verbal language.”

“Your, your thoughts? It is not possible,” said Arran.

“Only through those with the gift, and you through Nadine. My people are unable to talk as you do. We do not see, either.”

Arran realised that he was not looking at the man’s eyes; they were covered by black shades. These people were going to have a hard time coping in the real world.

“You have been delayed many hours in helping us and I believe you are without provisions. Will you be our guest? It would be a great honour.”

Arran looked around. No one looked very keen on hanging about. More people were emerging from the hill. How could he abandon these people? They must be informed of what is happening in the world. Perhaps when they hear, they may want to be sealed up again. Arran could not conceal a laugh. The other laughed as well.

“No, we would not wish to be sealed up again. We would not have lasted much longer. Our resources are failing after so many generations.”

Arran stiffened and stepped back, trying to stop his thoughts.

“Ha, Arran of Greyhaven, you are easy to read. You have a pure soul. A trustworthy person. You are a great leader of men. It is not so easy to read most. Their minds are so corrupt, they do not know themselves.”

Arran, a bit flattered accepted the invitation to supper.

“We have no light in our dwelling. I suggest you make camp out here,” said One One Six Four.

He turned and two of the others went back inside.

“I have ordered supper. I am afraid it is not much. Our food is made from fungi and yeasts.”

Arran could not stop the look of distaste on his face.

“But it is nourishing, and I do not think you will find it unpalatable.”

Arran ordered a fire to be made. Watchers were now bringing out seating and tables. A fire was lit and before long they were all presented with bowls of food. Arran was the first to try it. To his surprise, it was quite good, although a little strong in flavour. He nodded to Nadine.

“Mm. This is good One One Six Four.”

“Please call me One, or Oneone. We do not address each other like this. We all know who is communicating with whom without names. So, names have been lost.”

“OK Oneone. So, tell us, how did you become buried here?”

“We do not know for sure. It has been generations. We lost the use of any records down there. The walls are so strong that no one has ever been able to break through them. As you have seen the door had been buried. It has been told for many generations that there was a great war. We were an important people within a bunker, but what our task was we do not know. A long time ago, the power began to fade. We lost our lighting and everything. It was said that a slight radiation leak would affect us and speed up our adaptation to our environment.”

“What is radiation?” asked Arran.

“That I do not know. It is what has been passed down, so it must be of importance. We lost our sight. Our hearing mutated vastly.”

“We have what are called mutants. Do you suppose it is the same thing?”

“Again, I do not know. We can hear the shapes of things around us and any noises over great distances. We also came to sense each other’s minds. I think because talking interfered with our hearing shapes.”

“What about heat and food?”

“A heat exchanger had been dug miles into the ground where the earth is very hot. This has provided our energy. Although that has been failing and we must operate it by hand. But it keeps warm below ground. We developed many high protein yeasts and fungi to make a variety of food. Everything is recycled. Even people.”

“And I thought our Com was as self-efficient as it got,” said Arran in surprise.

“We had no choices. Arran, you are concerned about us being free. I can assure you that under normal circumstances we can cope fine. But I sense great danger from you. You are burying this in your mind. Please explain.”

Arran told all he knew and wished it were better times for these people to be released.

“That is a sad tale. Not just for us, but for all your people. There may be something we can do to help.”

“Oh no, we have enough on our hands. You would only get in the way,” said Arran quickly.

“You might be surprised. I insist that we join you. It is the least we can do to repay you.”

“It’s your funeral. We cannot protect you at all. You owe us nothing, it was nothing.”

“We have contacted many outsiders in the past. But no one has ever tried to help,” said Oneone.

“You have Nadine to thank for that. Not me.”

“It was your good heart that believed her and persisted in the removal of much earth. Again, we thank you, Arran.”

They talked on into the night. Most of the watchers explored the surrounding area. The dark night made no difference to them.

Arran and his party slept in their cloaks around the fires. In the morning, Oneone informed Arran that some of their men folk would accompany him on his journey. The watchers supplied a breakfast of another rich meal.

Arran ordered scouts front and rear. It would take two days to reach Hal’s place and it was mid-morning by the time they set off. They marched at a reasonable pace. The watchers seemed-sure footed enough, but looked a strange bunch. Arran and Nadine marched with Oneone who told them more of his life. His people could detect when anyone came near their bunker. They could also detect the good ones from the bad. They used to project fear into the bad people. This always sent them on their way. There was a chance that their group could do the same to some of the attacking army. This could greatly hinder the enemy’s strength of attack.

“You can project fear into someone?” asked Arran.

“Yes, it is not difficult. It depends on the distance and how many of them. The problem we will have is trying not affect your own people on the battle field.”

“Incredible. We must go on further north to scout the enemy. I would like some of you to come with us.”

“It will be our pleasure. My brother Three One Two Six and I will accompany you. Now that we are out of the wood, I am aware of great distances. Never have I experienced such a thing.”

“Can you detect far?”

“As far as you can see. But I can detect someone in hiding that you would not be able to see.”

“Well, I am glad you came along. Shall I call back the scouts?”

“No, let them think they are useful. But we won’t need any when we scout the enemy,” assured Oneone.

On the second day at around noon, Oneone suddenly stopped. Arran stopped and looked at him. He was quite still for a moment. Then he informed Arran that they were being followed. The follower was alone, was not a bad person at heart, but was full of anger or hatred. He then described exactly where the follower was.

Arran looked. He located the bushes Oneone directed him to.

“Keep going everyone. Harrad, come with me.”

The two men walked back down the trail and stopped before the bushes.

“Who is it that thinks he can creep up on Greyhaven warriors? You should know better. Come out now and show yourself.”

Silence. Arran looked at Harrad, nodded backwards. Harrad walked back up the trail a way. There was a rustling, the bushes slowly exploded and out stepped the largest man that Arran had ever seen. He was no taller than Arran, if at all, but he must have been twice as wide, quite round with short stout limbs. His bald head, lack of neck and ears made him look like a human ball. Arran almost broke into a laugh, but thought better of it. The newcomer was holding a thick staff, but did not seem to be armed otherwise.

“I do not need to creep up on anyone, stranger. You travel my road,” he said.

“My name is Arran of Greyhaven, and it is not your road. Where are you bound?”

“I travel north. There is talk of war. I look for fortune.”

“You are a mercenary?”

“Maybe. What business is it of yours?”

“We do not want mercenaries. You never know whose side they are on. Travel another road, friend,” Arran said.

“I am not your friend, friend. You travel another road. Stand aside.” Taking his staff into both hands, the stranger stepped forward.

Harrad too stepped forward. Arran put up his hand and stopped him, then drew Soulreaper. The next thing he knew was like being hit by a falling tree. As his vision cleared, he looked up to see the fat man laughing. How could he swing that small trunk of a staff up at such speed? Harrad stepped forward again. Arran held up his hand, then got up and raised his blade. The man held the staff vertical in front of himself. Arran swept a lightning blow of immense velocity down at the man’s shoulder. His opponent turned very slightly, so the staff replaced his shoulder. Arran’s blade jarred into the staff, which was immediately spun so the lower end swept up between Arran’s legs and smashed into his crotch. Arran was curled in a ball on the floor. There was no way he would be able to move for the next few minutes. Harrad was at his side immediately. The fat man rolled about in laughter. Harrad looked from one to the other, not quite sure what to do. Eventually, Arran sat up. Harrad helped him to his feet, but he was unable to walk. Arran sheathed his blade.

“Well, my friend, you make a formidable opponent. We could use a man like you. What are you called?”

“They call me Jardu.”

“So Jardu, if you are looking for adventure, then you have found it. How would you like to join us?”

“Where do you go and what is your business?”

“We are going to the heart of the war you heard of. Have you the nerve for that?”

“Maybe I have.”

“Then travel with us and see what you may.”

“Arran, he is a mutant,” put in Harrad.

“So what? He has done no harm to us and we need men like him. Mind you, he may have done harm to me. Ow, I can’t walk. Jardu, I have never been bettered before, especially with a stick.”

“A staff. Not much can resist a stout staff,” boasted Jardu. “Mind you, it has to be stout to get some weight behind it. Most men can only wield a slim one which is easily deflected.”

“You must have the strength of ten men. I will get my own back. Unarmed combat. We’ll see what you are made off without that tree trunk.”

“Ha, you will have even less chance,” said Jardu.

“Just wait until I have recovered.”

Just then Nadine raced up, caught Jardu by surprise and slapped him about the head.

“Wow, a spirited one,” said Jardu pushing her away.

“What have you done, you fat oaf? You’ll be sorry for that. How’s he going to travel? Come on, give Harrad the other end of your staff. Arran, sit between them. They can carry you. And Harrad, you should be ashamed of yourself letting him face this overgrown barrel on legs on his own,” scolded Nadine.

And so, it was, that Arran had to deal with the humility of being carried into the House of Jarsad-Malkem. Jardu was quite a spectacle and everyone wanted to meet him. He turned out to be quite a character, though it was a long time before Nadine had anything to do with him. The watchers, however, were viewed with initial suspicion, but strangely enough, were soon accepted. Everyone wanted to ask questions and it was another late night before they got to bed. Arran told everyone not to fuss, that he would be well enough to travel the next day. Although inside, he was not so sure, and that night he gave Nadine a very serious look when they went to bed.

The following morning was dry and clear as they set off. Hal marched along with Arran and Nadine. “It is a strange feeling going off and leaving the house without a soul in it. This has never happened before.”

“These are strange times,” said Arran, trying not to show his discomfort. This is the largest train ever. We will be gathering men all the way. We will have a small army by the time we get to Cam.”

“It seems strange leaving the Com with just women to defend it,” added Harrad.

“I don’t think it will come to that,” said Arran. “I am amazed that so many of our women have come with us to fight.”

“Nazine wants to avenge the death of Raz. The other women would sooner die with their men than be left alone,” said Nadine.

“Touching isn’t it, Harrad?”

“I think it is. We are all in this together and have no choice.”

Jardu walked up and said, “You walk OK, Arran. I would like to thank Hal for his hospitality last night. I have never been accepted anywhere before. I was quite humbled.”

“You are welcome. If Arran says it, then so be it.”

“Oh yes, I am sorry for striking you so hard, Arran.”

“I deserved it for coming at you with a blade. But don’t forget the rematch.”

“I am looking forward to it.”

“We will make a human out of you yet,” laughed Arran.

The procession made good time and saw few other travellers. The exodus south had slowed to a trickle. Runners went ahead to several of the great houses. Their fighters met the column as it passed. Arran briefed their leaders as they marched. Each house had its own banner. Spirits were high and it was indeed beginning to look like quite an army. On the third afternoon, they met a patrol of the baron’s men who greeted them but let them pass without a challenge. Shortly after, Arran’s group marched into the camp on the south edge of Cam. They were cheered as they entered. Several people had come out of the town and some of the baron’s captains were asking questions even before the men could come to a halt. Arran pushed his way to the training area where Jarrad was still organising the training.

“Ho, Jarrad.”

“Ho, Arran. You bring back quite a force.”

“Only the best. We have armour for the front line. Has there been any sign yet?”

“Nothing. How did you manage armour?” asked Jarrad.

“It was Zeb’s idea. Have you picked the front line yet?”

“Yes. We have sifted out the best.”

“Good. Get this armour handed out. The sooner they practice in it the better.”

Jarred called Maggad and instructed him to give out the armour. “This will boost the men’s confidence no end, Arran.”

Captain Onaska finally got Arran’s attention and said that a hundred of the baron’s best men were now trained up and ready to go as soon as he wished.”

“Two days, we march. A hundred soldiers, a hundred warriors and ten watchers,” said Arran.

“We will be ready. There is a high council tomorrow. You are asked to attend,” added the Captain.

“I will be there,” answered Arran. “Jarrad, help Harrad get the new arrivals camped down and you had better arrange training for them.”

“It’s done, Arran. We have moved our own tents over to this side. There is still a lot of work to be done; I don’t know how we are going to do it. We can use the rubble from the outer town to repair the walls. That is enough of a task. But to remove the buildings as well, phew. How are we going to tear them down?” asked Jarrad.

“Burn them down.”

“What?”

“We already decided to burn them down,” repeated Arran. “There is a lot of wood in those buildings. Fire would get rid of that and the heat should weaken the mortar, most of the buildings will fall. The fire will not spread inside the town walls, so why not? It is the only way.”

“A good idea. We will have the whole town working on it,” said Jarrad.

Word of their arrival had got around; more and more people were coming out of the town. Cheering crowds ran into the fields to greet them. No one had ever seen the likes of it. Food and drink were brought out of hiding. Fires were lit and musicians played. Soon the gathering turned into one big festival.

“They can enjoy themselves tonight,” said Arran. “They need it. Tomorrow they can begin the hard work.”

All the house leaders, the baron’s generals and officers, a new position hastily created by the magnitude of events, the first promotion being a proud General Hendra, attended the high council. The warriors were represented by, Oneone, Arran, Jarrad and Harrad. Arran shook General Hendra by the hand, saying he was pleased for him. This was the grandest assembly the barony had ever seen. It was over twice the size of the last meeting. The first to speak was Kai Snade, who was the baron’s chief advisor. He was a wily old fox whose eyes continually darted from side to side. He was well dressed and holding his staff of office, but was still unwashed and stank.

“Good morning ladies and gentlemen. Well, gentlemen. The first on the agenda, I would like to call your attention to a rather pressing problem. That of the northern tribes.”

“Get on with it, you old goat,” someone yelled.

Snade looked at the baron who said nothing and only just suppressed a smile.

“Err yes, the matter of the northern tribes massing across our northern borders. I would like everyone to hear our intelligence reports, our plans and then make useful contributions. I will chair this meeting and keep order.” The baron looked on with a scowl.

“I would like to call upon our senior captain to give us details known so far. Captain Onaska.”

Snade sat down to a dismal applause, which increased as the captain stood up.

“Ahem, I don’t know about intelligence. Half of it is rumour. Our enemy is camped too far the other side of the border for us to get close enough to study them. The bigger they have got, the more patrols they have. Also, they send raiding parties across the border for food. But as far as we can tell, there are three main camps. north, north east and north west of here. It is my guess that they will march and meet up at our border, then progress down our northern trail. From a distance, the camps look large enough. We reckon that we will be facing an army of around one hundred thousand strong,” said Onaska.

A few gasps and groans went around.

“However, they are untrained rabble. I doubt that they have ever faced an organised, trained army in battle before.”

“They must be fierce fighters though,” said someone.

“They don’t know anything but fighting,” said another.

“Order. Order,” cried Snade, banging his staff. “One at a time, please. Sit down, Arran. Take your turn.”

“Ahem,” began Onaska again. “We don’t know when they will set off. But they have just been joined by, an extremely fierce legion of picts, from the far north. These are mercenaries and it may be what they have been waiting for. They must set off at any time now. I believe they will be at our borders in two weeks’ time. Their progress will be slow. They have numerous war machines and supply trains to bring up. That, I am afraid, is all I know.” With that Onaska sat down amidst a round of low murmurings.

Snade stood, bang, bang. “Attention, please. So, it looks not good. Our task is to plan and prepare to meet this force. Because of the intensity of the raids, we have already evacuated the northern houses. They are now within the town. This means the town is overflowing which has caused further problems. I would ask you to bear this in mind and avoid congestion wherever possible. Thank you. Those not in training are working on the walls. We should be able to defend them for quite a while.”

Arran raised his hand.

“Arran of Greyhaven wishes to speak. Rise Arran, let us hear your say,” said Snade.

Arran stood and said “Gentlemen. If our enemy has war machines, then the walls will not stand for long. Once they are over the walls, we are lost. We cannot match them at fighting within the town. Disorganised hand-to-hand combat is what they are good at. We must meet them in the field.”

“Impossible,” cried someone. “We are outnumbered more than ten to one.”

“Yes,” said Snade. “What risks do you put us to now? Was it not you who brought this down upon us with your raid on the northern town? Now you want us all standing in the open when this horde comes sweeping down on us. Watch yourself or you will be tried for treason.”

There were cheers of support from some of the worst of the officers. The baron’s scowl deepened, but still he said nothing. Arran could see that loyalty was split. Snade had the support of half the officers. It was a dangerous situation. Just how aware of the situation the baron was, Arran could only guess.

“I could stay and just defend Greyhaven,” replied Arran. This was coming anyway. The barbarians have been raiding further and further across the border. It was only a matter of time. Maybe I brought it on early. That could be for the good, before they were fully prepared. Don’t go causing a split in our side now, Snade, or I will personally run you through, treason or no treason. We must be united.”

Snade looked sullen and his enemies all took heart at seeing him put down. Did this Snade have some power over the baron? Arran wondered.

“I want all the fighting men,” continued Arran, “be they townies, soldiers or whoever, to camp on the southern meadow. They will live and train like an army until the enemy arrive. We will train them into an army that will kill ten times its number. They will become part of a team. Will not want to let each other down. As soon as the wall is finished, all non-combatants must be evacuated south.”

There were more cries of “defend the walls.” Snade restored order.

Arran continued. “Tomorrow I shall take a company of my warriors and your soldiers and attack the enemy as it marches. It is a huge cumbersome force. We can strike it again and again when and where we wish. We should do significant damage and lower their morale by the time they get here.”

“I want assurance that my men will not be sacrificed,” demanded Snade.

“Of course they won’t be sacrificed. My men will attack the column, draw off some of their force, cut them off and your men can deal with them. We will take on their fighters while your men destroy what they can of the supply train. So, I want all the northern houses stripped bare of anything that might be useful to the enemy. Now, at our last council, some of you had ideas and things to do. Have these tasks been completed?”

There were several nods and ‘ayes’ from around the hall.

“Are the weapons completed yet?”

A captain stood and said, “They are almost finished. The ball and chain has been time-consuming. A strange choice of weapon, not normally used in battles, but in duals.”

“It will be fine in controlled situations. The front line will be so tight; there will not be room to use a blade. That’s if any of them survive my warriors and get here.”

A roar of laughter went around the hall as the mood lightened a little.

“We will meet them in the field together, outside the city. As explained to some of you before. We will have a front line, which now has armour and shields, wielding a spiked ball on a chain fixed to a shaft of three hands in length. Two lines of pike men behind. Each with different length pikes. These will be braced in the ground for the initial charge, then used to spike the enemy bellow their shields when they raise them to ward of a blow from our front line. The enemy will not see the pikes until it is too late. Our line will step back a pace at a time and our foe will be climbing over their dead. This will demoralise them. I hope we will last three days in the field. With luck, I hope to capture their bows and arrows and bring them here. I am sure we can lose arrows from the walls over our own men. They won’t need to be good shots. By the time, we have moved back behind the wall, they won’t be half the army they were.”

“A fine plan I’m sure, Arran,” said Snade. “But I want one of our officers to go with you and command our men. Captain Armstrong, I think.”

“Whatever you wish, counsellor Snade. But I propose it is General Hendra, as I have worked with him before and know he is highly commendable.”

“You will have who I say,” ordered Snade.

For the first time the baron stepped in and said, “Captain Hendra it will be.”

Snade gave the baron a very strange look, but said nothing. The baron stood.

“Well, it’s as good a plan as we are going to get, I think,” he roared. “I’m glad someone has got some brains. The Haven warriors are far better trained for this than us. Hear this Snade. I am putting Arran in total charge of this affair. But I want Onaska to accompany him everywhere, understand.”

“Thank you sire. I shall be honoured to work with Captain Onaska and have Captain Hendra leading your soldiers,” said Arran.

“No, you won’t. Stop being so obliging,” sneered Snade.

“Sire,” said Arran turning to the baron. “I could not have asked for more. How else could I hope to command your men, than through your most respected commander? I trust him to know the men he picks. I will leave Harrad here to organise our force and complete the training.”

“Well, if there is nothing more. We shall call this meeting closed,” finished Snade.

The hall started to empty, everyone talking at once.

Onaska came over to Arran, “I am at your service.”

“We will work together. Pick a hundred of your best men. We leave at dawn, north gate. Bring some maps if you can find any.”

Back at camp, Arran walked between the tents, out into the centre and watched the training. Every-one who passed by waved and seemed in high spirits.

“It’s amazing how, when they all get together, a bit of training and routine, their confidence grows,” he said to Nadine.

“It is a very large force now, Arran. I have never seen anything like it.”

“I don’t think anyone has,” he added.

“Well that is bound to make them feel confident. They have probably forgotten what we are up against. This force looks invincible. It’s organised and efficient. You have done well to get it so.”

“It is not of my doing. Jarrad has done more than I, and he has done it by organising some of our best men. Team work, Nad.”

“It has come together so well. I am impressed. Now you are going to leave me again tomorrow.”

“I can’t take you on this one, Nad. You know I can’t.”

“I guess not. But I worry when you’re in danger.”

“I will be extra careful and I won’t take on anything I can’t handle. Come on, let’s get an early night”

“But it’s still afternoon.”

“Well, do you mind?”

“Oh no. It might be the last time for a while.”

Arran suggested that everyone should have an early night and took Nadine to their tent.

It was a damp early spring morning with drizzle in the air. The soldiers did not look too happy to be up in the cold so early. But they were a little excited and that took the edge off the damp. They had put on the best fitting of the armour. Captain Onaska had taken the time to finish his armour off. He had smoothed some of the edges, added flaps of leather at the joins and improved the fastenings. Then he painted it with some fine colours. “Arran, this armour is out of this world. It is so light I don’t know I am wearing it, even with the bits I have added. It keeps a lot of the rain out as well,” Onaska said.

“It’ll keep more than the rain out. But I doubt it will stop an arrow,” said Arran.

“We know that. The men are pleased with it. You know they are not half as afraid as they were, just from this armour. That was a good move, Arran.”

“We realised that when we had the idea. Yours looks so good I regret not making my own. It’s so striking. Nad, get everyone to do the same. We will look such a professional army that we might worry them a bit.”

“I’ll see to it. It will look impressive. But they must all be in the same colour with a different one for officers.”

“Now I really wish I had my own,” said Arran.

“I would prefer it if you did.”

“Too late now. Sort me out a set for later. And make sure you paint it a really bold colour.”

Onaska had brought a barrow of supplies saying they could abandon it if necessary. He also had several maps that covered some of the northern territory and marked where he believed the three armies were camped.

Arran studied the map. “I would guess that the one on the west might be the largest. We don’t want the centre one, in case we get trapped. The eastern one should be the smallest. They have less land behind them with the coast on their east. We will attack that one. They are not far from the Dead Lakes. We can lure them there and get help from King Theo. Speed is needed, before they pass the lakes. Some of us can lure them onto this narrow strip. We were there before, and it is easily defended. The rest of us can follow them in and trap them. It will be tight for them and their numbers will not count. I should guess there are about eight thousand of them. We will send runners to warn King Theo.”

“It looks good to me,” said Captain Onaska. “If you can get them onto that strip, we have got it made.”

“Right, half of my men will attack them and retreat onto that strip. The rest of us will follow them in and close the trap. Detail some of your men to take care of the camp followers. We don’t want anyone escaping. Let’s get going. Nadine, you’re in charge. Don’t drive them too hard and keep an eye on Jardu. He will be useful with some of the heavy work clearing the town out front. And do leave some rubble and low walls at the perimeter. Not enough to give them cover but enough to hamper their advance and hinder war machines. I will be back soon enough.” They embraced, and it was all Nadine could do to hold back her tears.

The troop marched off with the warriors and watchers at the front, the soldiers in the middle and some porters from town at the rear with the barrows. The town was lined up either side of the road. The people had not seen such a spectacle before. It was a large force of fully armed men clanking up the road, armour, tall painted shields, banners, flags, horns and all. The people cheered the proud soldiers on their way.

“Quite a send-off, eh, Jarrad?” said Arran.

“It is an honour we have never had before. It seems to have raised the soldiers’ spirits. I wonder how long it will last?”

“We will know soon enough.”

“Hey, it’s not that much of an honour,” put in Vargen. “No one has offered me any food to march on.”

They all roared with laughter. It took two days to reach the halfway inn.

“I have finally resigned myself to travelling at this slow speed,” said Arran.

“The larger our force, the slower it will move,” replied Jarrad.”

“Are we really going to march right past the inn?” enquired Vargen. “We could stop there for the night and have a bevvy.”

“You would not get a look in with all these soldiers. They might not get paid much, but the baron’s money is gladly taken,” replied Jordan.

“By the time they get here, I will be under the table.”

“So, will the soldiers soon after,” cut in Arran. “We won’t get them to move tomorrow. We go on. We can cover a lot of ground before dark.”

As they passed the inn, Arran got the impression that it was packed inside. “That’s funny, I didn’t think there was anybody left north of the town.”

“There shouldn’t be,” put in Jarrad.” It even seems odd that the inn has been left untouched by the raids, when all around have been destroyed.”

“The noise has stopped,” commented Arran. “I think they are aware of us.” But Arran became more interested in the watchers who, had stopped and were staring at the inn.

“What’s up?” Arran asked Oneone.

“There is great evil in there,” replied One.

“I wonder why the inn has not been attacked,” puzzled Jarrad.

“The innkeeper is not to be trusted. I do know that,” explained Vargen. “He says that one tyrant is no worse than another. That since the loss of the great houses the baron has just hid behind his walls.”

“That’s dangerous talk,” put in Onaska.

“How do you know that, Vargen?” asked Arran.

“Well, I make it my business to find out all I can about any eating house.”

“Oh, yes I forgot, your main interest,” added Arran.

“He says that the baron takes his taxes and offers nothing in return. That if this new conqueror succeeds, it would open up trading routes to the north and his inn would be busier than it ever was.”

“Well, he is certainly a careless talker,” said Arran. “I wondered why there was an inn on this rarely used trail. Do you think he knew?”

“More like he was put here to spy and help coordinate the barbarians’ operations,” growled Jarrad.

“A spy,” said Arran. “Suddenly, I don’t like him.”

“There’s still no proof,” pointed out Jarrad.

“No, but I still don’t like him.”

“You’re doing it again.” Replied Jarrad, “your likes and dislikes don’t come into it, remember.”

“I know, feelings interfere with correct decisions, but the proof may be in there. Can you pick up anything Oneone?”

“No, it’s too busy for anything other than a general evil.”

“Too busy?” queried Arran.

“There should be no one left out in these parts now,” pointed out Onaska. They must be enemy.”

“Oneone, how many?” Arran snapped.

“Fifty.”

“A raiding party. Jarrad, take twenty men and skirt the rear before they leave,” Arran ordered.

“Down.”

The watchers threw themselves to the ground with the warriors close behind, but the soldiers were still looking all around. Several of them went down with arrows in them.

“Shields. Left flank,” bellowed Onaska.

The two rows of soldiers stood their shields on top of each other as more arrows thudded into them. Jarrad had already gone. The other warriors shielded the watchers.

“They don’t know who they are taking on,” said Vargen. I’m going to have that innkeeper’s head on a pole.”

Arran counted under his breath, thinking it was just as well that Zeb had made him take the new shields. Most of the warriors still did not carry shields, though. He looked round. The shield bearers were all with him. The watchers were staring intently at the inn. Then he heard a commotion from the rear of the inn and the arrows stopped.

“Right, let’s go,” Arran shouted.

The warriors charged at the inn, but before they reached it, the raiders came out through the door and windows. They seemed in a confused state. As Arran reached them, Jarrad came out behind them. Still outnumbering the few warriors, the raiders seemed to pull themselves together and started to put up a fight. The warriors threw down their shields and cut their way through the enemy. The soldiers, not having seen the warriors in action before, cheered. It was not much of a fight. By the time Arran took three souls, the rest caved in and tried to flee. Three were overpowered and taken alive. Arran and Jarrad went into the inn and confronted the innkeeper.

“Consorting with the enemy,” stated Jarrad.

“Enemy? They were just customers,” replied the keeper.

“Tell that to the baron,” hissed Arran dragging the innkeeper out by the scruff of the neck.

The soldiers were gathering round the captives prodding them and feeling quite brave now.

“Tie them up,” said Arran. “Four of you can take them back to the baron.

“Shouldn’t we try to get some information out of them first?” enquired Jarrad.”

“You’re right. Take one of them and do whatever you need.”

Jarrad inspected the three captives and dragged one away. Torran and Tarrak set about tying the others up.

“Arran,” said Oneone, “I will go with Jarrad and probe the prisoner’s mind. I think I may be of some assistance here.”

“By all means, go ahead,” said Arran.

Oneone followed Jarrad into the inn.

“Well,” said Harrad, “I suppose we have some waiting to do. We might as well make do with the rest.”

“I don’t think it will take Jarrad long to cut that fellow into little pieces. But tell everyone to be at ease.”

It was not long before they could hear screams from within the inn. Arran looked at Harrad and nodded. Harrad raised his eyebrows and shrugged. The other prisoners suddenly looked scared.

“Arran, unable to stifle a snigger, turned to them and asked, “Well lads, who’s next?”

Far sooner than expected, Jarrad appeared from the inn dragging his prisoner with Oneone following. Jarrad dumped the man back with his comrades. He fell to the ground gibbering. Jarrad walked back to the others.

“You won’t get any more out of him.

Harrad stood. “There isn’t a sign of blood on him.”

“I never touched him,” said Jarrad nodding over his shoulder.

They all looked at Oneone as he walked up.

“What did you do?” asked Arran.

“I just applied fear to his mind while Jarrad asked him questions and told him what could happen to him. His resistance soon broke. But as I pushed harder so did his mind. It has retreated into its own depths to avoid reality. It may never return.”

“I’ll tell you something,” said Jarrad with his eyebrows raised. “Never, ever cross this guy.”

“Phew,” exclaimed Harrad. “Was there any information?”

They all turned to look at the gibbering form on the ground.

“He talked non-stop from the start,” said Jarrad. “There wasn’t really anything new, a few numbers, the enemy’s task is to capture as much grain as possible for their temple, and so on. But we guessed all that. Even he doesn’t know the reason behind it or where it is going. It is for the Gods.”

“What would the Gods want with food?” queried Harrad.

“We have been down that road,” replied Arran.

“But he has confirmed everything you have suspected Arran,” added Jarrad. “You were incredibly accurate. Right down to the last detail.”

“Good,” said Arran, “accurate or not, it was only a guess before. Now it is a fact. We can plan on that without splitting our forces to counter error. Good work Oneone. Somebody put him out of his misery.” Arran said and nodded towards the innkeeper.

A nearby soldier jumped up crying, “I’ll do it,” then proceeded to hack the prisoner’s head off. The others just looked away.

The other prisoners were led off toward Cam and everyone else set off north again, hurrying because of the delay. It was not long, as Arran expected, before the soldiers were complaining of the relentless speed and were soon left behind, even though the warriors had now taken over the barrow, pushing until the light began to fade. That night, they camped outside the keep, with the soldiers straggling in around midnight. Arran reflected that since he was with an ever-increasing army, it had been a while since he had slept inside. But he was soon asleep nevertheless.

The next day, the soldiers were subdued as they set foot on hostile territory. At least the sun was shining and that made the journey more pleasant. Although not expecting to meet any resistance for several days, most men could not help keep looking over their shoulder. The whole army seemed somewhat nervous.

Jarrad arrived panting at the head of the column after running up and down its length a few times. “I wish they would settle down,” he said. “Anything would spook them into panic now, they seem very nervous.”

“Let’s make sure nothing does,” put in Arran. “You’re getting old, Jarrad, listen to you.”

“Well, they are making me nervous, as well.”

“I don’t expect any trouble for two or three days, but let’s not take any chances. Tomorrow we will send out scout parties instead of individuals. They can cover a much wider area and make sure that nobody slips through and sees us. We need complete surprise,” said Arran.

Arran went to great lengths to make sure the soldiers knew of the size of the scout parties and from then on, the troop marched on with more confidence and were comparatively relaxed.

The next day, the scout party sent runners far ahead. They expected to meet the enemy any time, around twenty leagues from Middlemarch, mid-way to the Dead Lakes. It was an ideal position for Arran’s plans. The following day, scouts arrived with a prisoner. Arran went forward to meet them.

“A small advance party. We managed to take this one alive. There are several of them around the main group, which is just over that far ridge,” Said a scout pointing forward.

Arran inspected this barbarian. Apart from the few at the inn, who were not heavily armed this was the first time he had seen one close up in full battle dress. He was about the soldier’s height, but more heavily built. Obviously well-fed and unlike the soldiers, he had a wild and dangerous look. He was covered with war paint and had a bone through his nose. He was snarling and snorting and kept straining at his bonds.

This freak will terrify the soldiers thought Arran.

“We will stand here for today. How many are they?”

“About fifteen thousand fighting men and as many followers, cooks, smithies etc. It looks like they are coming this way.”

“Good, more than I’d guessed, but we will take them as they come over this ridge.

By now, the soldiers had arrived and were trying to get a look at the barbarian. They clearly did not like what they saw.

Arran said, “Cut him free”.

As soon as he was free, the barbarian lunged at Arran, who bowed to one side, twisted into his attacker and stood up. The barbarian was thrown clean over Arran’s shoulder without as much as a hand laid on him. He jumped to his feet and lunged again. Arran sidestepped, spun his body and smashed his fist into the side of his opponent’s head as he passed. The man slumped to the floor, his neck broken. The soldiers who had been backing away rapidly, now came forward slowly, murmuring in awe.

“We could have got-up-to date information out of him, “complained Vargen.

“We know all we need to know for the moment to trap this lot. We can take their leaders when we have destroyed the rest. They will have far more valuable information.” I doubt if this one knew much and our soldiers needed to see how clumsy and weak they are, or they would be too scared to fight them.”

“They only have to fight the cooks this time.”

Arran looked round. Captain Onaska had pulled his men back and got them organized.

“It’s the most disciplined I have ever seen them,” remarked Jarrad.

Onaska walked up with his aide that carried the maps. “I take it having made contact, you might want to see the maps and work out where to go next.”

“Thank you, captain. I know what to do next, but we do need to study the maps to lay out our plan.”

The aide spread out the maps on the ground and the warriors gathered round smoothing them out and putting stones on their corners.

“Right, we take them as they come over this ridge,” said Arran. “We will lie in wait, out of sight. Then we will cut into their column allowing just enough through for your men to take without too much trouble captain. We will continue to fight them as they come over the ridge. The bulk of the force will not know what is happening for some time. But eventually they will swarm over the top in a width we cannot contain and try to get around us. By that time, captain your job must be done and you must be well on your way to this point,” explained Arran, pointing at the map with his dirk. “This is another ridge where we will do the same. We will be right behind you. But you want a good start. You don’t want us overtaking you. The enemy will be mad enough to blindly chase us. So, it should work again one or two times. We will eventually lead them to the Dead Lakes. Jarrad, have you sent runners to warn King Theo?”

“Yes, done.”

“Good. Now call in the scouts. We don’t need them, as we are not on the move now.”

The next morning, the tramp and clanking of an advancing army grew in the still air. It snaked over the ridge and down toward the valley. Suddenly, its right-hand flank was under vicious attack. The warriors came out of nowhere. A hundred fell before any could draw their weapons. Another hundred, before they moved. The warriors were cutting a sway into their enemy who began to bunch up to face their attackers. As soon as they were all facing away, the second group of warriors appeared behind them and tore into them. Within no time, the enemy was cut right through. Now the warriors turned to fight both the front and the cut off end of the column, which was promptly surrounded by the soldiers. Again, taking their enemy by surprise and from behind. Once more, the barbarians were confused and slow to react. The initial successes gained by the soldiers were all they needed to fight on bravely and finish the job. Meanwhile, the enemy kept clanking over the ridge to be devoured by hungry blades, Arran’s was especially hungry. The screams of his departed could be heard over everything else. But they could not avoid him as the advancing army, which pushed them forward, was now becoming aware of the battle and was coming over the hill, faster and faster. This was stringing out their column and going to take longer for them to gather up enough to surround the warriors. Arran waded in, soulreaper howling through the air. Screaming through steel, flesh and bone. Singing in his hand, a will of its own. The fighting got easier and easier for Arran. He was putting in no effort at all. His victims cried the screams of the damned. They died from the slightest wound as their life force was sucked out of them and their screams were the most unnerving. It was not long before the barbarians around him noticed. They began to realise what they were up against and turned but had nowhere to go. In desperation to escape such an evil death the barbarians began to throw themselves onto their own blades in front of him. Arran began to feel cheated and ploughed on with ever-increasing speed, wading ever deeper into the enemy, his comrades having trouble keeping up with him. His eyes blazed wildly, he was beginning to taste death, feed upon his enemy’s fear. He felt a surge every time he ran someone through, like a powerful drug he wanted more and more. It was beginning to control him.

From behind Jarrad said, “If this keeps up, we are won.”

Arran spun round and ran him through with soulreaper. He felt the surge as the blade sucked out Jarrad’s life force, felt the vibration of his last scream. Looked into his eyes, eyes that said “Why?” Eyes that only ever had friendship in them. The sound and screams of battle, the sound of steel clashing faded away. Arran dropped to his knees and held his friend.

“What have I done?” he wept.

Warriors formed a wall around him while the battle raged all around. Jon knelt with him. Arran’s eyes were filled with grief.

“It’s that accursed blade,” cried Jon, “You should get rid of it; it will be the finish of us all.”

He reached for the blade, but Arran snatched it up, his look now one of hate and anger, and held it to Jon’s throat.”

“You want it? You can have it. It can add your soul to its collection.”

“That blade will destroy us all,” said Jon backing away.

“Methinks it will win the war,” snarled Arran.

“At what cost?”

“The cost will be mine alone to bear. But the advantage will be enormous. Watch these barbarians fall.”

He turned and ploughed once again into the affray like a madman with inexhaustible strength. The soldiers were on their way without serious loss. Soon even the warriors were being forced down the slope as the weight of numbers began to tell. Their enemy was beginning to fight more fiercely and apart from the ones facing Arran, fought without fear. The warriors had been fighting methodically without too much effort up until then. But suddenly Tamber went down on one knee with a thigh wound and as soon as he did three blades were thrust into him before his comrades could cover him. They immediately struck down his attackers but not in time to save him.

“Arran, it’s time we went,” cried Harrad. “They are coming too fast and getting around us.”

But nobody was willing to approach Arran who, was getting tired of climbing over bodies and was becoming aware of the enemy’s movements finally turned and trotted off the field. His comrades fell back, turned and followed him. Picking up speed and leaving the enemy behind, they now maintained a fair pace. By the time, they caught up with the soldiers, the enemy could barely be seen. Their pace slowed now to match the soldiers. By late afternoon they reached the ridge they had planned on.

“Same plan as before,” Harrad said to Onaska. “Your men have done a good job.”

Several of them remained on the ridge for a while to make sure the enemy saw them. Everyone took their positions and made use of the wait to gain some rest and a little food for their supplies had gone on ahead to King Theo’s. Well before dusk, the leaders of a now strung out force appeared over the ridge. This time a group of soldiers sat, as if in camp, some way from the bottom of the slope. The barbarians, seeing the small numbers, charged screaming down the slope. As they reached the flat and their momentum slowed, some of the warriors appeared from either side and Arran stood from within the soldiers and met their charge head on. After enough had come over the ridge, the bulk of the warriors appeared at the top and cut them off again. The soldiers then covered the sides forming a large box. Arran worked his way up the centre. The rest was history, the soldiers held their ground well, although receiving more casualties than before. Once more, the number of enemy coming over the top began to swell until they had to leave once they gave the soldiers time to get clear. When they had caught up with the soldiers, Arran told Onaska to split his men off, double back and deal with the followers who should be way behind by now. His men would tackle the barbarians alone this time. Oneone said his watchers would go with the soldiers and he would stay with Arran. Onaska assured Arran that they would take care of their part. Arran wished Onaska good luck and told him to take no chances. So, once they were out of sight, the soldiers wheeled off south, waving farewell. The warriors marched due east. There was some cover, although the larger bushes were beginning to thin out. They stopped to look back from the next rise.

“Their commanders have got them into some sort of order now,” pointed out Harrad.

“But still they come,” replied Arran. “They can’t leave us now and they can see our small number. They will keep coming. But I hope they have not left a rear guard of any size, for the soldiers’ sake.”

“Time will tell. We can’t concern ourselves over what is outside our control. It will be dark soon. I wonder if they travel at night.”

“Under the circumstances, I think they will.”

“We must let them get close and keep just ahead of them,” said Arran.

“We will attack them at night. I think that will spook them.”

The warriors carried on until dark and then set up another ambush and settled down to another rest.

“Oneone,” said Arran, “If we have to move fast I am concerned about you keeping up. Maybe you should have stayed with the soldiers as before.”

“Don’t worry about me. If I get left behind, I can take care of myself. Besides we did nothing in those first encounters. It is about time I did something. You are more outnumbered now.”

“The soldiers don’t make much difference to us, you know,” said Arran.

“Well, I can move as fast at night as I can during the day. That makes no difference to me. I can terrify them at night.

“Good point. You do your worst then.”

As if nothing would stop them now, the barbarians came cautiously over the rise and down into the trap. They moved slowly in the dark. There was a little moonlight and it was somewhat difficult to see. But still they came, moving past Arran, down into the trap. When a sufficient number had passed, Oneone stood. Arran reached for him and went to say something but realised that the watcher was still difficult to see. The nearest barbarians stopped and then more of them stopped. Some of the closest turned and saw Oneone, but backed away. Those outside the trap halted and began to back up the rise. The ones inside began to call to each other in panic. Then they began to run in all directions. The warriors, taking the initiative, stood up and slew their enemy as they ran blindly into them. It was all over in moments and the warriors did not even have to defend themselves let alone receive any casualties.

Arran did not even need to take part; being near Oneone no barbarians came his way. “Very impressive. Can you do that to their whole army?”

“Unfortunately, not. The greater their number, the weaker the effect. But together we can certainly disturb their confidence,” said Oneone.

“Well, that sounds good enough to me. I’m beginning to believe we will carry it off. But we still have a gigantic task ahead of us.”

Harrad walked over. “That was impressive. Again, I am glad you are on our side. Arran, do you think they will still follow us after that?”

“I am sure they will. But not after dark. They dare not leave us behind their forces.”

“But they have a time-table for joining forces for attacking Cam?” asked Harrad.

“Possibly. But they are disorganised. I would imagine the first army there would go straight into the attack. If we can destroy this one, with any luck we can delay the next one and hope the defenders fare well against the third until we get back.”

“May the Gods be with us.”

“I’ve a strong feeling that they are not, Harrad.” noted Arran.

“We can’t go against the luck of the Gods, Arran.”

“We are on our own, Harrad. We don’t need superstition, we have everything planned. Come, tomorrow noon we reach the Dead Lakes and make our final stand. With King Theo’s help and whatsoever is left of the soldiers coming up on their rear, we must finish them off.”

The next morning, Arran and his party were on their way after the last of their rations and a thankful rest. The hills were getting visibly lower and the Petrified Forest could be seen on the horizon getting closer and closer. It was not long before the barbarians came into view, now further away than ever, but in sight still and able to follow the warriors, progress. Then at last Arran saw water on either side and knew they were not far from the bridge where they would make their stand. His mind had been on Jarrad. He still could not believe what he had done. “Suppose it had been Nadine?” he wondered. “What was she doing now?” His mind drifted away.

Nadine had her work cut out for her. She was thankful that there were enough warriors left behind to tackle all the training without support or supervision. But there were still so many other things to get done. She found herself taking on more and more work because no one else seemed to bother. There was still no end of people who wanted to evacuate and the number was growing daily. Nadine found herself setting up a register for evacuees, where they were given directions to the Com. She appointed Zela and Harreen to run it. “These people aren’t all going to fit in at the Com,” pointed out Harreen. “It must cope,” replied Nadine. “The men won’t be there until this thing’s over. They must stack them in. The summer’s nearly here, some must sleep outside.”

“What if it rains?”

“Rig up some tents, I don’t know. That is the least of our problems.”

“Nadine.”

“Now what?” said Nadine as Jaggar marched into the tent.

“That Jardu has marched off the men we were training. Says he has authority on clearing the north side.”

“Does he? Well, it is important, and we are undermanned all round. I’ll go and see how much needs to be done. Perhaps we all should help for a while,” said Nadine as she hurried out.

There was an eerie, muffled ‘oooagh’ from beyond the trees, then a hammering and chanting. Arran snapped back to reality. They were before the bridge. The warriors had begun to string out from shore to shore, forming a shield wall. Arran looked back the way they had come. He could see nothing through the bushes, but could tell they were very close. The hammering, weapons on shields, was getting louder. Hundreds of blows, all beginning to roll into one like the forest was vibrating. Arran took centre position. Harrad looked at him. Arran shook his head as if to dismiss the situation. No one stood near Arran, he felt isolated and alone. He wondered where Theo’s men were. Then the enemy appeared through the bushes and stopped a few yards away. The banging and chanting intensified. They cried out insults and waved their weapons in the air. Their faces were black and they wore helms fashioned like the heads of monsters with great tusks. They looked very fearsome, like an army of demons.

“By the Gods,” cried Arran, realising the enemy were not in battle dress when they first attacked them.

“When the soldiers come up against these monsters they will turn and flee,” he shouted to Harrad.

“They are only flesh and blood,” replied Harrad. “Let us show the soldiers what they are made of.”

Arran never heard the command, but suddenly, the chanting grew into a deafening war cry and the enemy charged forward. The weight of numbers was too much, and the warriors found themselves pushed back several yards before they could free themselves enough to wield their weapons and begin the killing. The barbarians were not deterred. Even the ones in front of Arran kept on coming when the death screams of Soul reaper began. They fought like the demons they looked. The warriors were still inching back. Arran looked behind as he pulled Soulreaper out of a foe. There wasn’t much ground to give. “Where are Theo’s men?” he thought. “We can’t hold on here for long. These men are demented.” Arran’s men managed to battle for two hours taking just two casualties.

Gem and Magg were killed. Still they backed up. The bridge was only a few yards behind them now and the enemy came on relentlessly.

“We are going to have to back over the bridge one by one,” cried Arran. “The last off us is going to have little chance. But I will be last.”

“No Arran,” replied Harrad. “your blade will not protect you from such numbers. We dare not let them capture the blade. I will stay, you go.”

“You are as mad as they.”

Having got close to the bridge with nowhere to go, the barbarians began to try to get around the warriors by wading into the lake on either side.

“Where are Theo’s men?” Arran Cried. “King Theo. King Theo.” But his cries were lost in the screams of battle. Suddenly, just as the end looked certain, there were screams from the water. Arran noticed the enemy’s ferocity slacken as they began to hear the cries. More and more of them were glancing towards the water. Arran chanced a couple of glances. There were men thrashing around and going under the water on either side. The water was rapidly turning red. Panic broke out in the water as men tried desperately to get back onto dry land. But the hoard had pushed forward so tightly that there was not room on the shore. Fighting was coming to a standstill as everyone tried to work out what was going on. Then, before the last man disappeared, figures began to emerge from the water and the bushes behind the enemy.

Reptilian figures with gruesome helms, almost as hideous as those of the barbarian’s. They cut into the enemy taking advantage of the surprise.

“Theo’s men! Ieeeeee.” The lizard men in full war gear and fighting like demons, had risen unexpectedly from out of the lake, sending the barbarians into total confusion. Arran screamed and waded into the shocked enemy with renewed vigour.

Surrounded now, it was only a matter of time before the barbarians were cut down to a man. It was late afternoon by the time it was over and King Theo came to speak with Arran.

“This will be a day to celebrate and remember, Arran. I think the tide has turned against these northern barbarians.”

“Aye. It may have turned, but we have a long road to travel before the deed is done and we can celebrate. Your help was invaluable, King Theo. We are all indebted to you.”

“Nonsense. These monsters trouble us all. We must join forces to deal with them. Come join us tonight for a feast in our village.”

“Alas we cannot. We must join the rest of our men and deal with the barbarian followers. No one must be allowed to escape.

“Good luck then, my friend,” wished King Theo. “We will meet you at your town with all our force and finish this once and for all.”

“Thank you and goodbye, until we meet again.”

Arran and his warriors turned back west.