A War to Come
Catherine Forbes
Copyright © 2011 by Catherine Forbes
The loud, low blast of the alarm horn rattled every nerve in Clayton’s tired body. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He could hear the sound of running footsteps approaching, but he ignored them and continued on his way down the little cobbled road, quickening his pace. His cloak billowed out behind him—revealing his light armour—as the once gentle breeze turned fierce, making the wooden houses he passed creak and complain. Dust kicked up from the ground and stung his dark eyes when he opened them, causing him to grow more irritated than he already was.
“Sir, sir!” shouted a young man’s voice. “The alarm has sounded!”
Clayton grimaced, lifting a hand to rub the dust from his eyes. “Yes, I know. I am not deaf, you fool!” He stopped as the young guard appeared in front of him, looking terrified. A layer of sweat covered his skin, and his hair was soaked, making its light brown colour look a shade darker. His boyish, hazel eyes were unblinking and wide. His body language made him look even younger and smaller than he was, but what hit Clayton the most was the stench of fear. This was a human, after all. The humans of the Kingdom didn’t take well to stressful situations such as oncoming battle. The human body was weak and could perish if inflicted by the simplest of wounds.
“We need to find that bloody wizard,” Clayton said, and started walking again.
The boy followed, his nerves making him clumsy and nearly causing him to trip over his own feet. “Sir Rasmel has already started looking,” he replied quickly, his voice trembling.
“Good. I want you to go and prepare yourself for battle with the others.”
The boy froze on the spot and stared at Clayton’s back, his breathing becoming rapid. “Could it be a false alarm?” He looked hopeful.
Clayton stopped moving, the question ringing in his ears. He stepped close to the boy, ready to order him to stop cowering and man up. But he couldn’t help feeling sorry for him. He was young, after all.
“It could be,” Clayton lied, trying to sound soothing, but failing miserably. “Even so, we have to prepare.”
The boy nodded slightly and lifted a shaky hand to rub his forehead. “Gods, I hope it isn’t them. They’ll kill us all.”
Clayton bit his tongue impatiently. “Boy,” he said, “now is a time for strength. You serve our great Kingdom and you swore you would give your life to protect it.”
The young guard straightened, seemingly trying to pull himself together. “For the King,” he squeaked.
Clayton nodded and turned. “Now, go,” he ordered, and breathed a sigh of relief as the guard ran off, his footfalls echoing loudly down the silent street.
Off in the distance, they roared with hatred, and their eyes blazed with burning rage as they stretched out their powerful wings, gliding swiftly through the open air. They were the giants of the sky, keepers of wonders and guardians of the natural world. They were also the bringers of death to those who threatened the land.
They growled ferociously, now nearing the human Kingdom . . .
* * *
One moon ago . . .
Hundreds of heavy footsteps thundered throughout the grasslands of Kalem. The clinking of metal armour cut through the chilled air; fierce growls rose and fell with the changing wind; the ground trembled, causing small grassland creatures to flee from the sudden disturbance in fear.
The small army of ugly, humanoid creatures were headed north, resolute in reaching their destination. In perfect rows of six, the creatures marched through the open land, stopping only when something got in their way. Bronze short swords were tied to every creature’s tattered belt, and giant carved knives were strapped to their backs. Their bronze armour, strong and heavy, was stained with patches of mud and other dried substances. To their right, beyond the grasslands, the City of Palensia could be seen in the distance. To the left, past the Great River, Mount Cravek stood miles high. However, the army ignored both, keeping its sights set straight ahead.
It was nearing nightfall. The sun was slowly sinking behind Mount Cravek and casting a deep crimson sheen over clouds and sky. It almost looked like spilled red wine, a wondrous sight to be appreciated—or so Calium Beadson thought as he sat back against the large boulder and relaxed in the heat of the small campfire. Once every year he had the delight of taking in the view, as once every year he travelled to Palensia for trade and business. It gave him satisfaction that even though his travels were always work related, he always had pleasurable moments that he favoured.
A soft noise to his right attracted his attention to where his wagon and valuable steed, Torque, stood a few feet away. The dark chestnut stallion seemed restless, frightened, even, as Calium pulled at the rope that tied him to a tree.
“Ssssh.” Calium tried soothing his companion, but the creature wouldn’t settle. He looked around, trying to work out what was scaring the horse. Everything seemed as peaceful as always. The sun was still setting slowly as twilight moved in; the first few stars glistened in the sky, and the full moon peeked out from behind the clouds. In a couple of minutes, complete darkness would descend and Calium would move on.
As evening fell across the grasslands, the army picked up their pace as they continued north. Something—other than the tiredness that ached in their bones—burned in all of them. It strengthened with every movement and made saliva spill from their discoloured mouths. It was a relentless craving that had turned these once-humans into something monstrous. Soon, it would become so unbearable that each and every creature would have to satisfy its insatiable hunger.
The chilled night air clung to their bodies, but they didn’t acknowledge the cold, or much of anything else, as their long journey neared its end. The Kalem Caves were only a league or so ahead, just past the main road leading into the Kingdom of Palensia. The army wasn’t expecting any trouble when it reached the road; it was likely no one would be travelling at this time, as the main gates of the Kingdom closed soon after sundown.
Calium sat on the uncomfortable wooden front seat of his wagon and held onto the reins. Torque, now settled, was elegantly trotting along the main road into the city. The night was cold, and a freezing chill began to creep over Calium. He pulled his thick wool coat closer around himself and tried to keep his teeth from chattering. He thought of the Howlett Inn, where he spent his visits in the city. He thought of his room there, and of his warm, soft bed—
—suddenly he heard a low, rumbling sound. It reminded him of a stampede of horses (which he heard quite frequently back home), yet he knew there were no wild horses in Kalem. He narrowed his eyes as Torque halted and started struggling against the reins. There were no other animals in Kalem that would make that much noise, and as Calium tried to get his steed under control, the earth started to shake. He let go of the reins in surprise and left his seat, his back and legs stiff as he climbed down off the wagon and started toward Torque, who was adamantly trying to get free.
Warm blood and fresh meat—the army growled and roared lustfully as the smell of living flesh reached them. Consumed by hunger, their animal instincts took over as all four hundred charged in the direction of the smell. Some bared their sharp teeth, others brandished their weapons, while others still merely relished the thought of sinking their claws into the soft flesh.
Calium’s eyes widened as the sounds of growls and roars filled the air. Sweat began beading on his forehead, and his heart felt as if it were trying to punch its way through his chest. He stepped back from Torque and looked around, not seeing anything but darkness. Just as he looked in the direction of Palensia, with its lights shimmering in the distance, something hit him on the head and pain shot through his entire body. He groaned miserably and fell to the ground. As an
other kind of darkness overwhelmed him, the last thing he saw was ugly deformed faces and razor-sharp teeth.