Chapter 2
The sun cut a clean bend of light across the clouds, making the massive grey formations glow around the edges. A storm would be coming today.
But that was the least of Will's problems today. He had to survive this battle, first of all. For weeks the conflicts between the commoners and Yea'haa'weh had been mounting. The real cause of the conflict was when the bodies of 20 Yea'haa'weh soldiers were found inside Thetmis, hidden under a rubbish-heap. Of course blame fell on the common people, but Will knew better than to believe the accusations of the Cat-People.
Today the battle was taking place near the Forests where the Cat-People and Tree-Folk lived. But the Tree-Folk, despite being the closest relatives of the commoners, said that they wouldn't help in the conflict and that their allegiance was with the Yea'haa'weh. Useless traitors.
Will was 16, old enough to serve in the army. His ma had advised him to stay in Disra, but he simply argued that his people needed him now. More soldiers on the battlefield meant less bodies in the towns. But of course Will was not alone. His good friend, Cuthbert Yidam, had come along with him. Good old Cuthbert. He was a bit dim, but as the old saying goes "what makes a dog better than man is that he will follow his master through flame and hell." Of course Cuthbert wasn't a dog, but his loyalty certainly rivaled one. Cuthbert, being descended from a long line of Gunsmiths, had brought his granpa's old pistol, a Remington-66 that was a bit rusty but still in working condition. The gun was made at Sienna-Fortress, and was carved with Runes of Fire, Agnipath, which was supposed to improve the weapon's firing. He also had a small belt-sword and a second pistol, his own, which he kept in his boot-strap. Will had brought his broadsword and a simple rifle which he had won at a festival 2 years ago. But now was not the time to reminisce about Heavenly-Banquets and Poyya-parades. In a few minutes there would be bloodshed.
"I'm a wee bit scared, Will," said Cuthbert in Lowertalk.
"We'll be fine," responded Will in Lowtalk.
The two passed a bot named Sigmund who was helping soldiers into their armored S.W.A.Ves. A few soldiers, wounded from the conflict of the previous night, were still being treated for poison from darts and wounds from arrows. The Cat-People were generally peaceful, but in war they fought hard.
"Will....I've been thinking."
"Yeah, Cuthbert???"
"Dost thou know what causeth the demise of those Cat-People found in yonder quarry at Thetmis???" Cuthbert asked in archaic Lowtalk.
"I dunno. All I know 'tis that the murders were not committed by our own. And what dost ye assume???" Cuthbert preferred to use the terms "thou" and "thine" when addressing people, but Will preferred to use the more common "ye".
"Will, don't mind me saying this, but d'you think it could've been the Cat-People themselves???"
"Cat-People do not harm their own. This is certain."
"But....."
"Hush now, Cuthbert. The men art gathering."
And indeed they were. The soldiers were raising their masts, each mast with the Cyan-Cross, the official flag of Heimland:
Will was surprised to see so little men today, there was hardly enough to form half a Skiritai. Most of the men were on horses, a few riding on wagons and some on peps (peps were small oxen bred by the northern commoners near the mountains, used for riding in battle).
The skies were now alive with thunder. It appeared that Meghalaatha, Vijjulaatha and Maranaatha were not too happy today. Cuthbert rode on a pep, Will on a horse. The two slung their weapons over their shoulders and rode off into the battlefield.
The place they were battling in was a large dry grassland a few miles from the territory of the Cat-People. It was a deep slope that reached a river and finally the woodlands. Will ad Cuthbert positioned themselves near a group of riders, about 200 of them. The riders were at the sides, protecting the armored foot-soldiers in front. Behind them were the medic-vehicles, ready to scoop up corpses during battle. The generals, the few that remained, were going to be leading the charge. Will could spot a few machines here and there, each of them equipped with their own assortment of weapons.
The little army positioned themselves near the slope, and waited. Seconds turned into minutes. The sky was now alight with small flashes of lightning. And then they came.
Thousands upon thousands of Yea'haa'weh men and women. Some with swords, some with bows and arrows. A few with slingshots and maces. But none with guns. Guns were considered taboo in their culture. The Yea'haa'weh in front were big and muscular, with thick leather shields to protect the front of the line. The swordsmen were right behind them. The archers were at the rear. In total there must have been 2000 of them, the commoners were outnumbered 44 to one. A few Yea'haa'weh were riding on horses, and some, a select few, were riding on Bái-Hǔ, massive white tigers with antlers similar to their relatives.
There was a Yea'haa'weh general leading the line. Will was surprised to see he was a Royal, characterized by his extra pair of arms. This four-armed Royal-Yea'haa'weh suddenly called out to the enemy side:
"Surrender now, and there will be no bloodshed!" he yelled in Lowtalk.
"Never!!!" responded the side in Lowertalk.
The Royal pulled a bugle from his belt ad blew, a long shrill booming noise echoed across the land.
"Dieu et mon droit!!!" they yelled as they ascended the plain.
"Eliaaaa!!!!! Alala!!! Ala!!! Ala!!! Ala!!!" the commoners yelled as they descended the plain.
As they rode down the slope, Will could see that the enemy was also using the Cyan-Cross as their war-flag. he was now wondering whether a war with their closest neighbors was really the best option.
But it was too late to retreat now. They collided in battle.
Horses went flying as sword collided with flesh. The commoners pierced the leather shields of the defenders and broke through. The archers fired a volley of arrows that took down half of the rear-line in a matter of seconds. The wagons opened fire, filling the air with a red mist of Yea'haa'weh blood. The riders of the wagons were almost immediately sniped by incoming arrows and slingshots from the opposing side. The medics were now scooping up bodies left, right and center. The sounds of gunshots and blades was assaulting Will's ears. As he looked around, he knew that this battle could not be won.
Too little of us, too many of them. We're doomed.
Perhaps he and Cuthbert could retreat whilst there was still time. But it was not to be.
A Yea'haa'weh with a stone mace swept Will's horse to the ground, knocking Will into the dirt. Will tried to stand up, but his horse was pinning him down with its weight. Will gently pushed the massive animal off his chest and stood up, wiping sweat from his eyes. Or perhaps they were tears.
The massive soldier tried to deal a death-blow to Will, which he stopped with a few shots to the brute's chest with his pistol. Will was looking around, at all the carnage unfolding.
Most of the commoners were on the ground now, their horses and peps all invalid amidst the chaos of battle. There was so much dust in the air Will had to swat the wind to see through the clouds. It was raining now, a deep heavy rain. Some soldiers were slipping in mud, their blood mixing with the rain-water. The Yea'haa'weh also seemed to be stumbling a little, but not as much as the inferior common-people.
Will swiped at an incoming Yea'haa'weh woman wielding a broadsword. He ended her with a single shot to the back of the skull. More and more medics could be seen riding down the slope towards the battle.
Will was a bit surprised that he was killing men and women left, right and center without even flinching. He supposed he had a killing-gene in his blood that his parents had been trying to suppress for years. But no longer. Now he felt free, even as blood and pieces of brains and skull decorated his jacket. Now he felt free, so free.
Will was mowing through more and more Yea'haa'weh, reloading with one hand and firing with the other. Bang bang. Bang bang. More and more bodies were falling, and Will now realized that what he thought was screaming was actually the sound of hysterical laughter. The commoners were winning, they could all feel it. Even as the rain started to subside, they felt it.
But it was not to be.
A Yea'haa'weh, a massive brute of about 7 feet, swiped at Will with his mace, knocking him to the mud. Will tried to grab his gun, but the brute kicked it away from him. The brute raised its mace.....and collapsed.
Cuthbert, standing right behind him, had fired an arrow into the brute's solder, and this particular arrow was tipped with snake-poison.
"Will!!!" he cried.
"Will!!! We need to get t......" He never finished the sentence.
Cuthbert's head burst into a red pulpy mass, covering Will with chunks of blood and brains. At that moment Will felt a sharp pain in his upper thigh. He touched it and felt blood. A gunshot wound. He looked behind him and saw a young Yea'haa'weh with a gun pointed at him. This was odd. Yea'haa'weh never used guns. Unless....this boy was an outcast. A bandit.
Will struggled to his feet and feebly ran away, just as another bullet sailed over his head. He had no time to think. All he knew was three things; he had to get out of here, he was unarmed and Cuthbert was dead. Cuthbert was dead. Will felt tears stinging his eyes, and wiped the sweat away from his forehead. Or perhaps it was blood. Cuthbert's blood.
Will ran, he ran as fast as his injured legs could carry him. The bandit was no longer firing, so Will guessed a commoner had put an end to his life.
Will could now see it; the Forests. Without hesitation, Will ran into the woods, away from the chaos behind him. And he ran.
by C.S.De Silva (Ken D)
Comments