Chapter 29
The light of the day had almost faded; the moon was full in the sky. In the twilight, the King walked the battlefield escorted by John, Rhyll, and Conrad.
“Never in my worst nightmares have I seen such a truly horrendous sight.” Henried said to the others. As they walked, the bodies of about thirty five thousand humans and eighty thousand creatures covered the fields. No rain had fallen for weeks yet with each footstep; the squelch of moisture could be felt in the grass from the spilt blood that had absorbed into it.
“I am glad it is dark, I do not want to see this sight in daylight.” Rhyll said.
The King stopped and looked at the other men. He looked tired and pale.
“Few men should have to see this sight. I want all the human bodies cleared from this battlefield by the morning. John, go into the city and bring back one hundred of the most battle hardened men we have left. Conrad, Rhyll and I shall start a large pyre burning. We shall cremate the bodies.”
John moved with haste to gather the soldiers. He returned within the hour with a group of men, strong in body and stomach, who had been found sharing drinks and stories of the battle just won. In their drunken state, John had felt it appropriate to use them as they would not become as affected by what they saw.
When John returned, a large pyre was burning near where the oil fires burned during the battle. Rhyll had found a huge war axe dropped by one of the creatures. With it, he felled many of the stakes that had been used for defence. These acted as perfect fuel for the fire.
The King addressed the men assembled before him.
“Gather our fallen comrades first. Strip them of their armour but leave their undergarments alone. Store the armour and weapons in separate piles near the city walls. We will determine what is salvageable in the morning. Put the bodies on the fire but make sure there is no metal on them. We do not want this fire to be extinguished. Do you understand?”
Most of the men just nodded their heads. One, however, had his hand raised. The King indicated for him to speak.
“My lord, what shall we do with the creatures?”
“Leave them for the moment. I do not mind if our men wake in the morning to the sight of the evil that has fallen today. That should encourage hope and pride. What I don’t want is for our soldiers to witness how many of their fellow comrades, their friends, have died.”
“Let’s get to work.” One of the soldiers shouted and with that the cleanup operation began.
John had been working for about half an hour. He had disposed of about fifteen bodies in that time. He placed another on the fire and walked back into the field to collect yet another fallen soldier. He came across a man lying face down. From the rear, no apparent injuries were evident. John pulled the body over and reeled back in shock. The man’s face was crushed; bone was protruding and brain was exposed. The mush of this poor soldier’s face looked like someone had vomited red meat all over it. John felt sick to the stomach. The other men he had cleared all had simple wounds; sword impalements and slashes. This was the worst so far. John tried to remove the helmet from the man. It would not move. The nose protector had been smashed so far into the skull, it had created a lock. John pulled as hard as he could. The cracking of bone and the squelching of blood could be heard but still the helmet did not move. John looked around seeking help but he knew what he had to do. It took him a minute to compose himself. He then placed the knee of his right leg on the forehead of the soldier, and the knee of his left leg on what remained of his chin. Pushing his hand into the mush that had once been the soldier’s nose, John grabbed the twisted nose protector. He again composed himself then he pulled. With all the strength he could muster, John heaved at the embedded piece of metal. At first the metal did not move but after a couple of heaves, it finally came away. John fell backwards, the helmet in his hand. The head of the soldier twisted to the side, facing John. As it did, the face fell outwards, pushed by the weight of the brain. John looked at the now hollow skull and at the mess on the floor beneath it. He vomited. For a moment, John went dizzy, his eyesight blurred and more sickness feeling grew within him. Again, the vomit burst forth but this time was the last. John pulled himself together and proceeded to strip the body, all the while avoiding looking at the head. He was relieved when he tossed this body onto the fire.
At some point during the night, each man working to clear the bodies came across something that had a profoundly shocking effect on him. For some it was seeing the shocking and horrific injuries that had been inflicted. For others, it was the discovery of a fallen friend. This night took its toll on everyone.
The final human body had been cleared just a couple of hours before sunrise. The King had ordered each man to get some rest in preparation for the coming day.
Sleep was uneasy for many that night; none more so than John. His dreams were disturbed by bloody images of the battle flashing through his mind. When the still images had ceased, he found himself standing in a large puddle of blood in the centre of the battlefield. He looked around and on all sides he could see the humans and their enemies engaging in ferocious battle. None would enter the puddle. Those that charged towards him veered off before they got their feet stained. It felt like there was an invisible shield surrounding and protecting him. John could see his friends fighting in the battle. Conrad, Rhyll and King Henried all fought bravely, cutting down many creatures. Then the puddle began to bubble like boiling water. A strange haze of steam rose from the blood. Then, just in front of where he stood, something that looked like an arm flew out from the blood before splashing back in again. It arced like the arm of someone swimming the backstroke would. The same arm flashed out again closely followed by another arm. Then a figure began to form in the blood. It rose up, lying on its back, until it took on the clear shape of a man. The man stood up and faced John.
“Do you recognise me?” The figure asked in a ghostly whisper.
John tried to reply but he couldn’t. His voice did not work at all. He could make no sound.
“Do you recognise me?” The figure said again only louder and more menacingly.
John continued his struggle to speak. Still he found his words were unwilling to sound. The blood man standing before him reached out and arm and took John by the throat.
“You will say my name or you will die.” The man said.
“J…J…James.” John finally managed.
The man let out a mighty belly laugh.
“Do I look like James to you? My son, you surprise me.” The voice changed to that of John’s father, Paddy. Suddenly, the blood that covered the figure drained away as if it had been washed off in the shower. It revealed the green skinned, lifeless face of the creature his father had become.
“This is not happening.” John said aloud, closing his eyes to the unholy image before him.
“Not yet.” The creature replied.
Suddenly, the grip was released from John’s throat. He opened his eyes. He was back in his tent. The blanket John had been sleeping on was soaking wet. His body was covered in a cold sweat.
“Are you alright, John?” Conrad asked. “You were talking in your sleep. It woke me.”
“It was just a bad dream, nothing more.” John replied. “Go back to sleep.”
Conrad was sound asleep again in an instant. John sat up for a little while to let his rapidly beating heart settle. He used one of his few items of clothing to towel himself down. John tried to go back to sleep but the visions kept haunting him.
The King was the first to be roused a couple of hours later by a strange vibration in the ground. The sun had just risen above the horizon. Having only managed a couple of hours sleep that night, it took him a while to come to his senses. The small hut he had built to sleep in was shaking and rattling. The floor seemed to pulse first with a large thud then followed by a small vibration. The King stepped out of his hut still in his sleeping garments. As he did so, he noticed others exiting their tents to investigate. Mos
t of the remaining army had camped within the walls of Bowton that night; the bloody fields outside were unsuitable.
“Open the gate.” The King shouted as he marched quickly towards it.
A couple of soldiers raced on ahead and pulled the not so large gates open. Henried froze upon seeing what lay beyond. All the fear and panic he had felt when he saw the army of chaos marching towards his city came flooding back. In front of him was an army of massive numbers. The early morning sun silhouetted the approaching army, making the numbers difficult to determine accurately. The King stood there for a minute, his mind trying to comprehend what he was seeing. Suddenly, he focused.
“We are under attack.” He screamed. This was not the scream of a man in control of his emotions; this was a scream of pure terror.
The soldiers poured out from their tents to see what the commotion was all about. The ground began to vibrate and tremble with greater force. Henried looked around to see the army charging towards him. Suddenly, a clap of thunder was heard and a bolt of lightning flashed at the King’s feet. A tall dark figure emerged from the smoke. Henried’s first reaction was that The Watcher had returned. As the smoke cleared, he could see the true face of his enemy.
“Bhryll.”
“I thought I told you to call me master.” Bhryll began, “If I didn’t, please do so.”
“I knew we would see you sooner or later. I was hoping it would be later.” The King said his courage returning.
“I am very sorry to disappoint you. Well, no actually, I am not.”
“I thought we had destroyed your army.” The King said inquisitively.
“Oh, no. You only managed to destroy my first landing party. I brought two more of equal size, just to make sure that victory was certain. I know how cunning you humans are. I like the traps you set up. It is a good job you were attacked from the east otherwise they wouldn’t have worked.” Bhryll was being very sarcastic. John, Conrad and Rhyll ran out to stand at the King’s side in support.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the remnants of the adventuring party that stole me from my island. It is nice to see you again; especially you, John. I feel a strange kinship with you. After all, you are my brother.”
“You and I bear no relation.” John said coldly. “Whatever you did to my sister, you are not her.”
“I should hope not. After all, I am a little more…manly.” Bhryll said laughing.
“You shall die by my hand for what you did to my family.” John promised drawing his sword. The King stretched out an arm to hold him back.
“Are you here to gloat or do you bring a message?” The King asked.
“My good and noble King; I am here to gloat of course. In but a few short minutes, creatures from your worst nightmares will rip through this puny little town and destroy every last soldier you have. Once you are dead, I will hunt down those you sent to get healed. Oh, I almost forgot, the priestesses will fall shortly after and then the rest of your pitiful people.”
“You may take the Kingdom for now but we will fight back. Thorntonvale will only be yours for a short time.” The King said boldly.
“That is a promise I would like to see you keep. I wonder how you will return from the abyss. Maybe you will be able to fight through the many ferocious denizens of the underworld. Maybe you will get lucky and a mighty mage will reincarnate you. Your threat is idle. After all, you will be dead.” Bhryll let out a mighty laugh. Another crack of thunder sounded and the lightning flashed as Bhryll disappeared.
“Close the gate.” The King shouted. He turned to the others. “We cannot possibly hope to defeat this army. We need to evacuate as many men as possible. There is a secret exit in the Northern wall of the city. We will only get through in single file. When through, scatter to the four corners of the kingdom so they cannot follow. Organise the men into small groups and send them on their way. This is it my friends. Our Kingdom has fallen.”
John, Rhyll and Conrad nodded their understanding and got to work. They bellowed orders at the top of their lungs. The entire army had just reached the Northern wall when a loud, persistent thudding noise started from the direction of the gate. This lasted only a couple of seconds before the gates crashed open. In poured creatures that most of the humans had never seen before. They looked like bears wearing armour made from bone. These were the Bugbears. A large group of humans turned and ran towards the enemy. The King was leading them. The Bugbears tore the humans to pieces. Limbs were ripped apart in a killing frenzy that lasted barely a minute. The King had been at the rear of the attack. Seeing the futility of their charge, he retreated. Many groups of humans were now beyond the city walls and fleeing in all directions. John grouped the men, Rhyll ushered them through the wall and Conrad directed them where to run. There were still many thousands of men awaiting their chance to escape. Only about one thousand or so humans had escaped. The King came charging back into the crowd. Seeing the charging Bugbears chasing after him, the soldiers parted to let the King escape.
“Protect the King.” One shouted.
They drew their swords and turned to attack.
“Lets get out of here; it is every man for himself now.” The King said to John.
John was rather surprised that the King had issued such an order but the futility of the cause was soon evident. Bodies and limbs were flying through the air as the Bugbears tore the defenders limb from limb. John quickly followed the King. Rhyll latched on with Conrad heading up the rear. They ran as a group in the direction of the Sacred Hills to the west. They hoped they would arrive before it was too late.
When they had made it a safe distance away, the King turned around to take stock of the carnage that had just happened. Small figures could be seen running across the fields. The early morning shadows kept many hidden from his limited sight but it was very clear that no more men were leaving the city.
“So many dead; how could we have let this happen?” Henried said as the tears began to pour from his eyes.
“We did not see it coming. The creatures that occupied Cursed Isle could never organise and work together. It was only logical to think that they would never be a major threat to a well prepared Kingdom.” John replied.
“But that is exactly the point. We became complacent. I appointed my son, Cohen, as the commander of my armies over your father. That was the beginning of the end for Thorntonvale. When Paddy took command again, he had my armies doing things I never even knew they could. But alas, it was too late.” The King fell to his knees. He looked like a defeated man.
“Remember your promise.” Rhyll said to him sternly. “You will never stop trying to reclaim this Kingdom.”
“It was an idle threat. Without an army of the size we have never witnessed before, we have no hope.” The King replied solemnly.
“There is always hope. You just need to know where to find it.” Conrad stated.
“What do you mean?” The King asked.
“We cannot wage the type of war we would like. However, if we could gather pockets of men around the Kingdom, we could train them to fight a Guerrilla war.”
“That is a foolish plan, Conrad.” The King retorted.
“Why is it a foolish plan? Would you just have us lay down in defeat whilst that so called god fouls your kingdom with his disgusting minions? I can’t stand for that. This is the kingdom I call home. If we do not take a stand, other kingdoms will suffer our fate.” The passion that oozed out from Conrad stirred something within the King. He got up from his knees and faced his friends.
“We have nothing else to lose. I always said that I would die for the greater good of this kingdom and by the crown that grants me the title of King, I will.” The newfound optimism was short lived.
“I don’t want to spoil the mood but if we want to make it to the Sacred Hills before we die, we should leave now.” John said.
They all turned and looked in the direction of Bowton. The hordes were heading in their direction.
“We must hur
ry.” The King said heading west. John and Rhyll followed but Conrad did not. John noticed and turned.
“Come on, Conrad; what are you waiting for?”
“I am not going.” He stated. “I am going to find the scattered men we have left and I am going to make sure they are safe. Then I will train them.”
“But why stay now?” The King asked.
“If we get to the Sacred Hills in time, the priestesses will collapse the mountains to stop the enemy attacking them. The only way back into the Kingdom is to circle through our neighbouring Kingdoms and enter to the east of Thorntonvale. This would be a complete waste of time; time that could be spent in mobilising the resistance.”
“Your courage is commendable. In my eyes, you do not deserve the title of Conrad the Cowardly.”
The King’s praise lightened the burden Conrad had placed on himself. John looked at him in dismay.
“I will stay too. I can help.” He said desperately. John and Conrad had grown close. They were now good friends.
“No, John.” Conrad said sternly. “You have a talent that will be needed elsewhere. You possess skills in diplomacy. I think that to have any chance of mounting a defence, we will need to gain the support of the other three Kingdoms. The talents both you and the King possess should be utilised to that end.”
“Well if he is not staying, I will.” Rhyll stated. “I can’t have a little runt like you trying to survive alone. After all, all my tribe are dead now. I have nothing left to lose.”
“It is settled then.” The King started. “This is a brave thing you are doing. If the going gets too difficult, lay low. I will return at the head of a great army and then you will help me claim back my kingdom. Good luck to you.”
Hands were shaken and embraces shared before they parted ways. John and King Henried charged west to the Sacred Hills; Conrad and Rhyll headed north, hoping to circle round the advancing army.
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