The Ninth Prophecy

Chapter The last stand



Nox was a quiet city on the day. A fly could be heard buzzing around. Only at the alternative exit, the Snake’s Throat, people could be seen preparing to flee towards the caves, if the alliance was to breach the city defenses. Raavi was one of the few Xelons at the front line. The others remained in the back, watching over Snake’s Throat, covering the escape route if escape becomes an inevitable option. The Dabors were there too, wearing knights’ helmets which were too large for their heads. They didn’t mind - as long as they protect them from bashing their heads off the cliffs on the opposite side of the Throat. Yon and the generals were conducting the final inspection of their army. They were wondering why the enemy hadn’t started the attack yet. They knew that the enemy was there, few hundred lengths away. The sun was already at its peak and the alliance was not attacking yet. Yon turned to Hadera: “What is the number Hadera, how many men at arms do we have?”

- “We have an army of over five thousand. Two thousand men of the city guard, eight hundred horsemen, nine hundred Senicorans, little over a thousand Dabors and some four hundred Xelons.”

That’s good. Five thousand is a good number, twice as much as we had in Baan Senicore.

Minutes passed by slowly. As the sun was already starting to descend, a cloud of dust coming from beyond the gates was the first signal of the arrival of the mighty alliance army. When their intention became clear, the Karosian army announced its arrival with the sounding of tenths of horns being blown one after another in a steady slow pace, much like the whistling of the autumn wind. The army lined up just few hundred lengths away from the city gates. It was a mighty scene. Tenths of long flags leaned at the windy air, dominated by those of the realm and of the Barantham family. Other lords were represented, too.

- “Taal, Geren, Darion, what do you reckon?” Yon asked the generals.

- “Fifteen, twenty thousand…maybe more,” was Darion’s estimate.

- “Too bad that the straightwalkers are to lose that big of a number of those of their kin on this one day,” Goras unintentionally lifted everybody’s spirits.

- “It’s not all straightwalkers. There are at least some seven thousand Koprites among them, probably more. Maybe a third of them on argorites,” Taal pointed out.

- “The layun are here too,” Faris said, pointing to a group of men in red and yellow clothes with light armor.

- “What did you expect?” Yon responded. The layun were highly appraised warriors, nomads who could be hired as mercenaries. They had no allegiance, but they never went against the realm. They had even been decisive in some regional lord wars. They carried special weapons which they would throw at their enemy and it would return to their hands. If the weapon was to be unrecovered, they all had slingshots and blow pipes with which they were as skilled and as deadly as the best archer would be with his bow.

The horns were then silenced. A Koprite riding the only argorite with iron spikes coming from its each thy, stood up, lifted his baton and screamed something. The Koprites started to move forward slowly. The others - Sciprians, Septors, layun and other northern lords’ armies followed behind. As they came close, within the range of the catapults, Hadera gave the order to fire. Sheda stood by her side. When the catapult released its load, even the alliance soldiers went mute. Yon and the others were watching in excitement, waiting for the explosion to occur. The projectile hit the ground and rolled. “Oh, shit,” came Yon’s brief comment. Koprites curiously gathered around the strange ball which reminded them of argorite fur. The ball grew steaming red. Moments later, the projectile exploded into a large fireball, consuming some of the Koprites and throwing others in flames several lengths around. A loud cheer coming from the walls of Nox spread, echoing through the battlefield.

"Sorcery! Witchcraft!" were the words which could be heard among the alliance soldiers as panic struck. Thrax and Tibor personally rode through the ranks calming the men down. Thrax yelled: “It is no sorcery, you fools! It is just fire. Ride on and the fire will not touch us. Continue, to the gates!”

Fireballs kept on pounding the alliance ranks, their explosions now being much timelier. Fear could be read off alliance soldiers’ faces, even those of the Koprites, but they continued on. Yon stood up above the gate, calling for his troops to stand firm: “This is the hour men! Of all the thousands of hours in our life, this one will be your most important! So I say to you: Let it be meaningful! Make most of this hour for this hour shall define our lives, our destinies, our future! On this hour we shall fight, we shall bleed and we shall emerge victorious! For Spero!”

All warriors of Nox screamed as one.

As Hadera’s siegers kept pounding the Koprites on the frontline, Sheda called:

“Hadera! Have them shoot the Sciprians and Septors! We can deal with the Koprites. They don’t have the heavy armor!”

Hadera nodded, giving the order to the siegers to do as Sheda said. Now, it was the Sciprians and Septors who watched in horror where the next of the projectiles would fall. The fireball created upon impact was so intense that it would literally leave a hole in the alliance ranks where it would fall, pieces of smashed rocks piercing the armor of soldiers’ tenths of lengths away from the explosion.

Thrax ordered the flagman from behind to signal the soldiers to start the run. As the horn was sounded, all soldiers started running forward, the earth trembling beneath the feet of thousands of soldiers, horses and argorites charging at the gates of Nox. Enemy being within range, Noxian archers and crossbowmen started taking down the Koprites. In one split moment a Koprite commander lifted his baton in a horizontal position. At the very moment all Koprites stopped and bowed down, concealed Septor crossbowmen and layun emerging from behind and between the Koprites. They showered the walls with slingshot projectiles and blow pipe and crossbow arrows, taking down tenths of exposed defender marksmen who didn’t see it coming at all.

When the attackers came closer, Xelons emerged from behind the walls, throwing rocks, logs and anything that would come into their hands down on the enemy. When the Karosians came under the gate and under the walls, siegers used fire cloaks and tar to repel the enemy, who came in great numbers.

As the Koprites and other Karosians pressed their ladders and nets against the wall, the siegers once again resorted to their favorite weapon - the ladder-breakers. Much to their surprise, they found out that the ladders were reinforced with metal plating, which prevented them from breaking. The ladder-breakers would succeed in flipping them over, however. Tar, rocks, fire cloaks and ladder-breakers were used abundantly, preventing the enemy to climb up. Just as it seemed that defense of the city could be sustained, the defenders noticed enormous ladders, some four times the size of the walls, being carried forward from behind the enemy ranks. Yon ordered the siegers to try to destroy them, but that was not an easy task to fulfill, having in mind how narrow the constructions were.

Instead of bringing them all the way to the wall, the Koprites put the ladders down several tenths of lengths before it. When the ladder came down at the top of the wall with its upper end, because of its length, it practically created a narrow steep stairway. Argorite riders didn’t waste any time and they immediately came charging up at the walls. Before the defenders could react properly, argorites and Koprites swarmed the walls above the gates. Xelons managed to throw several of them back over the walls before they were overpowered. Yon gave the order for retreat. As the soldiers tried to keep the invaders back, providing time for the people to escape through the narrow Snake’s Throat, Yon and the others were descending down a hidden staircase leading to Snake’s Throat at the side of the southern wall which was not attacked. Hadera was coming last, turning back, shooting arrows periodically. She was more than reluctant to leave the city. Sheda came up and asked her to hurry, to save herself.

Out of nowhere, an argorite came and knocked Sheda down. As the beast was to bite, the rider pulled its head aside. The Koprite rider leaned forward over the argorite, as if to take a closer look at Sheda. Then, he sat back and jerked the beast to the right, leaving Sheda unharmed. Hadera was stunned by what she saw. She ran over to Sheda and picked her up, as the two descended down the stairway.

Hadera observed Sheda and then looked back, saying: “Your clothes…the Illuminators. It must have saved you. He thought you are an Illuminator from Karos. He had mistaken you for one of your order. That’s some luck. I’ll make me one of those dresses myself. That ought to keep me alive!”

They both smiled, both of them glad to have made it out alive. The attackers had already broken in through the gates. Thrax and Tibor rode in shortly after.

“Where is everybody,” Tibor said, looking around.

- “The commoners are retreating through Snake’s Throat into the caves,” Thrax explained, having been given the information by a scout.

- “Then we shall follow. Father’s orders are clear. We must not let those cowards get away this time.”

- “All right, then we shall follow.”

- “Not you, Thrax. I will command this final charge. You will return and give the word to my father of our great victory.”

- “But, my lord, your father’s orders are more than clear. You must…”

Tibor interrupted Thrax, knowing ahead the argument he would bring up. “I am well aware of my father’s orders, as all of the troops are. They are not stupid. Everybody sees how you are protecting me and running the attack. Besides, I am your superior on the battlefield regardless of your internal arrangements with my father,” Tibor played on his last strong card.

- “My lord, I do respect you but I will not…”

- “Respect?! Oh, come on Thrax! How am I going to gain any respect if I don’t ever lead the men into a single battle?! They are not going to show respect to a puppet who comes out of a battle without a speck of dirt on his collar, not to mention an honest blood stain! Besides, even father said that you personally must come and confirm that Nox has fallen.”

At this point, Tibor was willing even to beg. “Please Thrax. Let me lead them this one time. Let me earn their respect the proper way. The enemy is decimated anyway. It will be like hunting down a fox with a hundred hounds. Please, let me make my father proud for once.” Thrax hesitated, giving in eventually: “All right, but you be careful, my lord! The battle ends with the last stroke of a sword. Everything in-between is a dance with death. When the drifters come in to collect, you better be standing right here greeting them.”

- “I will, I will,” Tibor said in exultation and rode off, with Thrax yelling to his back: “And stay behind!” Tibor just waved his hand acknowledging that he heard the advice. Thrax quickly assigned two of his best men to guard Tibor at all time, and they rode off to catch up with him. Reluctantly, Thrax rode back to inform the king, as agreed, before the warriors of the alliance would get a chance to strip the city of its riches instead of the drifters.

The troops of the alliance had by now reached the entrance of the long canyon of Snake’s Throat. They entered the canyon, hearing the echoing voices of the Noxians trying to squeeze themselves through the narrow passage into the caves at the end of the Throat. Tibor seemed to enjoy the chase, ordering the riders into a full gallop in order to catch up with the infantry which was already deep into the passage. As they came in half way through, merging with the infantry, the rider to Tibor’s right suddenly fell off his horse. Tibor stopped and turned, seeing three other men hit the ground.

He didn’t realize what was happening until another man in front of him fell down, struck by an icicle sticking out of his neck. He looked up and saw small flying creatures, which they later realized to be the Dabors. As they released their deadly load, alliance soldiers started falling like flies. Tibor immediately ordered his men to shoot up and take the Dabors out of the sky. They tried to shoot the Xelons too, but they were mostly protected by the ledge preventing the arrows to reach them. Only few fell victims to enemy fire. However, several Dabors were shot, some falling down, others smashing off the rocks on the opposite side after being hit. Still, they were inflicting great damage to the Karosian troops underneath. Sheda’s patent worked perfectly. As a Dabor would be thrown across the canyon, he would pull a single thread which would release some ten projectiles which flew at great speed down at the enemy troops. Dead argorites, Koprites, Septors and Sciprians were piling up in the canyon.

Finally, general Ler rode in from behind. Seeing Tibor hiding under a dead argorite, he dismounted his horse ignoring the rain of daggers falling from the sky. He grabbed and shook Tibor, as if awaking him from deep sleep. “What are you doing Tibor?! Order the men to continue moving forward, towards the caves. We are losing too many soldiers. We’ll deal with these devils when we finish our job in the caves!”

Tibor picked himself up and ordered: “To the caves! To the caves! Hurry!” The soldiers instantly moved on, trampling over the dead bodies of their comrades, trying to get out of range of the flying Dabors as soon as possible. Approaching the entrance to the caves, the alliance soldiers, still in great numbers, could see the last of the commoners and the surviving soldiers of Nox enter. Tibor hastened his soldiers forward. It took them a while to dismount and tie up the animals, before the riders, together with the infantrymen, entered the caves. At first, they walked forward at a slow pace, only to speed up when they heard the Noxians in the distance.

Meanwhile, Yon and the others were doing everything in their power to rush the people forward. Regardless of their efforts, they moved slowly. Women, children, the wounded and the elderly were not exactly the ideal group for outrunning the Karosian posse. Finally, the Noxians entered a large chamber of the cave. It looked breathtaking, divine. Faris tried to rush the others forward. Yon stopped him: “Don’t waste your breath brother. We can’t outrun them. We’ll face our destiny here, in the darkness. Draw your swords men! Prepare to defend that which we hold most dear - our lives and lives of our families!” Faris stopped and, without uttering a word, pulled out his sword, pointing it towards the entrance to the chamber: “You are right, my brother. Lead us through this moment. May it be our finest one!”

The tired Noxian soldiers pulled out their swords, Hadera aimed with her bow, Maedur armed his crossbow. Then, they waited. Minutes passed like hours. Finally, the enemy appeared from the corridors. As they rushed throw the first of them were taken down by crossbow fire. As they were too numerous, the enemy broke through, metal clashing with metal, Koprite batons smashing Noxian shields. The defensive ring was being pushed back, shrinking by second, the soldiers practically pressing on the commoners with their backs. Blood - most of it Noxian - sprayed the walls of the chamber. Taal had fallen to an argorite bite, trying to fight off a Septor from the other side. Hadera, Sheda, Faris and Yon pressed tightly together. Yon managed to beat down two argorites that came at them, one of them knocking down Hadera. Faris pulled her back as another argorite tore off her cloak, Hadera evading the dreadful destiny by an inch. Geren pushed himself off Faris’s shoulders and flew over him and Hadera to drive his sword right through the beast’s skull. It was a matter of moments anyhow, when they would all fall down.

As Tibor entered the cave, he enjoyed watching these last moments of the Kulins. However, what he did not know is that a pair of eyes was watching it all happen from the darkness, behind one of the cave rocks. It was Sethon, the leader of the shadow people. He was nervous, hesitant, grains of sweat coming down his forehead as he watched the battle, the last stand of the Kulins crumbling down to a superior enemy. He appeared to be fighting an inner battle himself. The man standing by his shoulder spoke to him: “Let it pass. It will be over soon. Then we will have plenty of bounty to collect.”

Sethon replied: “Look at them. Look how vicious they are. What happens when we become the bounty?” Then he took a breath, lifted his head and his hand and yelled: “Attack!” As he cried the word out, hundreds of men emerged practically from nowhere, out of the darkness. Septors and Sciprians were confused for the first couple of seconds, until their comrades started falling down. Finally, one screamed: “The shadow people!” Panic was such that they turned their weapons on each other in the darkness of the caves, not knowing who was who. Many were cut down by the weapons of their fellows. Many Noxians picked up Septor and Sciprian weapons, giving themselves an even chance in battle. Even the Koprites were frightened by the sudden appearance of the notorious shadow people. The Kulin troops seized the opportunity and pushed the Koprites and Karosians back. The fight raged on with sounds of metal intertwining echoing all the way back through the Snake’s Throat.

* * *

Daors was nervously waiting for news from the battlefield. No one even dared to talk to him. Hearing the sound of hoofs, he ran out of his tent. Seeing Thrax ride into his small camp was the only thing which could calm him. Thrax dismounted, adjusting the armor.

- “Speak up, for the sake of The One!” Daors spoke impatiently.

- “It is over. Nox is yours, my lord.”

- “Ha-ha! Great news. Is Tibor all right?”

- “He was when I left him. He went with the soldiers to chase the remainder of the enemy troops into the Snake’s Throat.”

- “You let him go?!”

- “I assigned my best two arrow’d officers to guard him. The enemy is heavily outnumbered, sir. They don’t stand much chance. He begged me to let him go, to prove himself worthy in the battle. He wants to please you.”

- “All right then. He better be there when we march into the city.”

- “I told him the same thing. Have no worries. He will stay behind. My men will make sure he does.”

- “Have you heard this, Rego?”

- “Yes, I have heard it,” Rego spoke, still seated.

- “So, you can go now a take your bounty and I can have my son back.”

- “Not quite so soon. Your son will come with us to Nox. Once we are sure everything is in accordance with our deal, you can have him back.”

- “All right. You will be accompanied by the Sciprians. Our mistrust is mutual. You will hand my son over to them once you are finished. They will make sure Damius returns safely. This is Renekhardt, their commander. After that, we all go our separate ways. Just so you know, once all is settled, I will come for you.”

- “And we will be waiting for you.”

Some two hundred drifters, including five of their most prominent steerers, accompanied by about a hundred Sciprians, left for Nox. The drifters were on foot. Half way to the city, they picked up Damius, who was kept at a secret location by a couple of drifters. Coming near the city gates, they stopped. What they saw soothed them the most. The city gates were open, with long Barantham flags erected at the walls. The company entered the city in good mood. As they marched in, Renekhardt’s smile was replaced by a serious appearance. He lifted his hand, ordering the caravan to a halt. He looked around. There was no living soul anywhere near. “Something’s wrong.” He could barely finish the sentence before hundreds of men emerged like a flood from the streets, taking down the Sciprians one by one. Many were taken out within seconds by the arrows fired from Septor crossbows from the surrounding windows and walls. Renekhardt tried to fight the assailants off, but he was soon overpowered. Few tenths of drifters were killed too.

From behind one of the houses, Yon emerged and ordered the attack to stop. Renekhardt couldn’t believe his eyes. “Stop. That’s enough!” Yon calmly ordered. All Renekhardt could see were hundreds of armed men, some wearing strange clothes and armor he had never seen before. He couldn’t have imagined at that moment that those were the ‘fearsome’ shadow people.

- “But the city is ours,” Renekhardt uttered, sounding like an angry child.

- “It doesn’t appear to be so,” Hadera replied from behind, standing up on the walls. The drifters gathered in the center of the plateau. Along with one frightened soldier standing at his side, Renekhardt was the only Sciprian still standing. Renekhardt spoke again in disbelief: “But, Thrax said it. The city was ours. You couldn’t have won.”

- “Technically speaking, Thrax was right. The city was yours. Then you came after us into the caves - that was a big mistake. Our friends here - the shadow people - threw us all a surprise party in the caves. We were glad - don’t get me wrong - although your Karosian and Koprite friends were not. Sorry we didn’t have time to take down your flags. We did expect certain guests to stop by. We only didn’t know who it would be. I must tell you Renekhardt, I am so pleased that it is you.”

- “So, now what? You are going to kill me?”

- “No, don’t be foolish! I’m not going to kill you. We don’t do that to traitors. They are going to do it,” Yon said pointing towards the commoners of Baan Senicore who were standing behind. As two of Yon’s arrow’d officers pushed Renekhardt towards the crowd, he tried to resist. A child cast the first stone which hit him in the neck. It was the girl who sang for Yon and his company several months earlier, when they were seeking refuge in Nox.

The two officers pushed him away and rain of rocks came down on him. He tried to stand up, but he could do so only for a second, before he was knocked down by the rocks which the commoners were throwing relentlessly at him. It all lasted for a couple of minutes before only Renekhardt’s arm was sticking out from under the pile of rocks. Drifters were watching the scene, horrified by the destiny they knew could be awaiting them too. Yon then turned to the one Sciprian still standing:

- “You can go, boy. And tell your king that he is no ruler of Nox. Tell him that his mighty armies are now piles of flesh and bones. Tell him that we are coming for him. The prophecy will catch up with him. He has no place to hide…Since he showed at least some decency, providing our lord Spero with a proper burial, you may take Tibor’s body with you so Daors can grieve properly.”

Damius watched as his brother’s body was thrown over a horse’s back and pulled away towards the gates by the bewildered Sciprian. He sustained himself from reacting, although he couldn’t hide the tears coming down his cheeks. “Get a grip of yourself boy, or you will get killed too,” Rego whispered at Damius’s ear. Now, Yon turned towards the drifters: “May your commander step forward!” Although generally the drifters didn’t recognize one superior authority, at this occasion they all felt more than comfortable pointing at Rego.

- “Oh, fuck,” Rego whispered, obviously not so flattered by the fact that he was given the honor of standing alone before Yon. He then continued to speak, now addressing Yon: “Yes, I am Rego my lord. Although we drifters don’t have a single commander, it is I who can be claimed to be the representative of our people.”

- “That’s fine by me. Rego, you may leave with your men and go to your ships. You will leave empty-handed. However, I will let you keep your lives and the precious cargo you are already in possession of.” It was clear that Yon was talking about Damius.

Faris was unpleasantly surprised by his brother’s decision: “Yon, that’s Damius among the drifters. We can’t just let him walk away.”

- “I know who he is, brother. Don’t you worry about it. Let me handle this. I bet the kid would rather stay with us too.”

Faris was baffled by his brother’s decision. He couldn’t understand it. Rego now replied to Yon: “Thank you, lord Yon, you are most generous. We shall leave at once.”

- “Yes, I am generous. Try to remember that. And also, remember that it was Daors who has tricked you yet once more. You may leave now.”

Seeing the drifters leave with Damius in their captivity, Faris tried once more to talk Yon out of his idea of letting the prince go: “Yon, what is wrong with you?! You just let the best possible catch of the war slip through our hands!”

- “Relax, Faris. Had we kept him as our captive, we couldn’t do much with him. He wouldn’t be of much use to us. We are not trying to negotiate anything with Daors. We just want him defeated. However, allowing him to leave with the drifters, we now have the drifters as our potential ally. Besides, they are not going to give Damius back to Daors and they are very pissed at him. They might even kill him. Whichever way, Daors now has another enemy. He will be trying to negotiate Damius’s release and he will fail. It is better to have Daors’s mind occupied with the drifters than with us.”

Faris had no objection to his brothers reasoning. He then hugged Goras complementing him for the great fight the Dabors put up. “We gave them what they came for, didn’t we - the dirt of Nox,” Goras spoke up, laughing out loud. Hadera and Sheda shook each other’s hand to, as the victory celebration started, stretching long into the night.


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