Trumpets blared unexpectedly from the
ramparts; heads in the great hall began turning this way and that, eyes wide
with a mixture of bewilderment and later fear.
Bewilderment because not three days ago had the armies of the vile
tyrant Juranza been routed in the most bloody battle of the war. The feast
which had only just been interrupted was the reward our most gracious king
called for. Celebrations were being held in every town and city in the kingdom.
The fear came after the trumpets sounded not a second time, but a third time.
This clearly wasn’t a drill.
“Men
and Women of Halsdorm. It is apparent that we are under attack. I assure you
this is no combat drill. I bid you all to get ready to defend the castle, and
when you return we shall continue with the festivities. I am confident that it
can be no more than a splinter of Juranza’s force, one that hasn’t had the news
of his death. Go now, slay them and rejoice, for tomorrow we all wake in a land
free of war and bloodshed!” The king said from his throne, his voice growing
louder with each word. With that came the din of chairs scraping over the cold
stone floor and the loud talking of men and women fighting amongst one another
to be heard by their comrades, and the rhythmic marching out of the hall. I
however stalked to the side entrance, and exited through the slave’s quarters.
It would be much faster to get to my room this way, and I would also be able to
catch a glimpse of our attackers.
The
view afforded to me by the steep stone steps used by maids to ferry things
around the castle was a disturbing one. Archers and Crossbowmen frantically
fired into the massive horde outside the walls. I was amazed at how many there
were down there. This was no splinter group I realised. We had been duped and I
was the fool that caused it. This wasn’t the time for this though I thought,
and I rushed to get suited for battle. It was just outside my room I almost ran
straight into Philip Grelson, The Lion of Halsdorm. He was one of the most
valiant heroes that returned from the last battle, and I considered him as my
brother.
“Have you seen what we are up
against?” I asked after regaining my composure.
“Aye, and it doesn’t bode well for us I
fear. There are simply too many of them” He replied with a sombre tone. “I have
already sent carrier pigeons to the surrounding townships but reinforcements
will not arrive quick enough.”
“Not nearly quick enough from the
looks of that crowd” I muttered.
“Come meet me at the north gate when
you are ready, we shall compete for the most kills!” He chuckled, before
disappearing down the steps, leaving his loud steel booted footsteps echoing in
the passageway.
My
room was a mess. I had prohibited the servants from entering, for I liked to
know where I left everything. I quickly slipped off my formal clothing and into
something more practical, before donning my armour. I hated wearing it, but in
a situation like this it couldn’t be helped. I moved my pillow and retrieved my
sword, a gift from the Elven king in the southern mountains after we aided them
in fending off a nearby band of Kul’Ermayne warriors, seeking to capture all
they could in the name of Juranza. The blade, named Ashrender had been with me
ever since. It wasn’t a particularly large blade, it was a couple of inches
smaller than a standard long sword. But that suited my battle style. It was
perfect for quick strikes and parries, and often threw opponents off guard. I
sheathed it at my waist and picked my shield up from the foot of my bed, and
left the castle in the direction of the north gate to join battle alongside
Philip.
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