***
Just before the sun rose over the eastern plains the armies that had defended the city so resolutely over the past months gathered patiently behind the gates of Findolin. They would no longer wait for their doom to be pronounced; rather they would go out and meet it. Their food stuffs were dwindling by the day, the Finns allies and friends were restless. And with The Elementals now free to work their will and the Dragon Chambers as ready as they could be; the time had come to go out and meet the enemy.
Achil, with Andreas and Nicholas at his side had joined the Elementals and the council members in the great hall, to discuss the final aspects to the day ahead. They all stood listening to the Alchemist who was looking over a model of Findolin.
“When,” he said. “You are outside, you must make time, so that the weapon can be brought out, they will not expect us to meet them in open combat, so they will need time, probably only a short period to think upon this new strategy of ours, but while they hesitate we will put our plans in place.”
“Once defeated,” said the King. “They’ll think twice before again trying to violate our lands and people.”
The Prefect looked at him sadness in his eyes.
“I fear that this may be only the prelude to our next war with them,” said the Prefect. “They have underestimated the forces arrayed against them, next time they come, they will be better prepared. That is why we need to defeat them completely now while we still can. After, we must think seriously about sending spies deep into the Kingdom of Jin, we must find out more about our enemy.”
There were some protests round the table from Wei of the Askalons, and the leader of Cashel, who did not wish to leave their lands and pursue the Mandrake. Achil understood well the concerns of their allies.
“The Finns cannot fight the armies of the Central Kingdoms on their own,” said the King. “If we are to defeat this scourge we can only do it in the lands of the Mandrake and by methods we are unused to. We are going to have to adapt to this new world of ours or be crushed under it, which means we will have to get used to more secret and surreptitious methods of fighting our wars.”
The sun filtered through the windows, the King looked around the table one last time, before sombrely issuing the final command.
“Today will mark the greatest day in the history of the Finns and her new allies,” said the King. “It will bring to a close these proceedings. I know the path has been a long one; there is nothing I can say that can express my gratitude for your efforts in these troubled days. And from all the grave losses we have suffered together; we have understood one thing, that when we united, we prevailed. There is no enemy, no matter how powerful and how capable, that can defeat us. Whatever the outcome today, the people have shown that there are things worth dying for, such as liberty, freedom, independence and that there are things worth living for, your families, your people, your kingdoms. So let us now embrace our fate with this in mind that no kingdom of west of Mead shall ever succumb to servitude, oppression and slavery.”
They all roared there agreement, the King strode out, at his side was Achil and the Prefect they walked to the front of the line and mounted their horses, the army behind them made up of nervous young men and women were waiting to file out of the city and face the enemy. To the rear came the carriages carrying the Dragon Chambers with the Elementals at their head.
The city gates opened and they rode out to their fate, part of the army went down the ramp, the other down the road that wound round the plateau. It had not taken long before horns rang out around the enemy camp. Guards had seen the army filing out of the city. The Mandrake did not halt or hinder the approach of the Finns. They wanted the city to empty itself and the last thing they wished was to encourage their enemy to bolt back behind their walls.
The Finns, the Askalons and the Cashel arrayed themselves before the huge army of the Mandrake. The Herald of the Mandrake rode out with his attendants; he halted half way between the two armies, a flag of parley fluttering softly above his head in the breeze. The King, with Achil, the Prefect and Wei, at his side rode out to meet him. They faced each other on the dusty plain of Findolin. The sun well up in the morning sky, exposed waves of heat, that emanated from the dusty, hardened, barren surface of the calcified earth that they all rode upon. The Din looked the King up and down, the last time they had met, the King had sent him away like a vagabond, now he wished to enjoy this moment.
“I have terms for you to consider,” said Din. “If you O’ King are willing to fight Marshal Ti, leader of the armies of the Mandrake in single combat, then should you prevail and the Marshal be defeated, his army will disband and withdraw back into the lands of Mead.”
The King pondered for a moment, the Alchemist had wanted time to prepare the Dragon Chambers, and this would certainly delay the battle to come.
Achil knew what the king was thinking he moved his horse closer to the Kings so as not to be overheard by the herald.
“My Lord,” he said. “I will fight this General of theirs you should not be involved in such a pact. You know that whatever happens they will not keep to their agreement.”
“Achil,” said the King. “Whatever fate awaits me, if I meet it now or later, in truth what does it matter. And such an offer is something only a King might take up.”
The King urged his horse forward right up to the herald.
“Tell your Marshal,” replied the King. “That I agree to his terms.”
The Herald nodded turned and rode back into the massed legions of the Mandrake.