Date: September 28, 164 R.E.
Place: Trade City, Chinchata

When dawn rose over the horizon, the sun found the Knights of the Count and the King's Men camped near the walls of Trade City. They were on the outskirts of the Hills of Land, where only a few of the smaller mounds remained. They waited there for their siege machines to roll up behind them.


Included in the siege machines were two five-spear ballistae, a catapult specially designed to launch flaming items, and a single siege tower. Oxen, which were kept by the citizens of Trade City disposed in the Hills of Land, dragged them.


Sir Gaines watched them approach through the misty haze of the early morning.
The crisp air, and orange sunrise made him realize that this might be the last time he would see such a sight. He had never thought about it before, but going into battle against Wizzen would do that to a man. Wizzen had killed his cousin.


Gaines wanted Wizzen for himself. He would kill the son of a motherless jackal
for murdering Leigh. Wizzen would pay for that dearly.


The Lame Warrior spat onto the ground. He still wore the Robe of Destiny, the
white light perpetually illuminating around his body. Count Payton strolled up to him, and Gaines could see the ice magic in his companion's eyes flicker with anticipation. He, too, was ready for battle.


"The siege weapons are here," said Isaac. "That means we should mount and ride now. Trade City is less than half an hour away."


Gaines nodded. "Get the archers on foot and onto a hill. The archers only, mind
you, and not the crossbowmen. We need them for when we bust through the gates.

"A line of lancemen should be our first troops to assault the gates. Only a line of them, not all of them." The Lame Warrior expelled a cloud of smoke from his nostrils. The morning was cold. "Next," he continued, "we go in, the mounted soldiers. Behind us shall be the swordsmen."


"Why are we not the last to go?" said the Count. "We are the ranked officers, and if we are fell in battle what will the other soldiers do?"


"Hopefully they'll keep fighting," said Gaines with a rueful smile. "But, I hear
your complaint. This order of fighting men is to open the way quickly.


"After the siege weapons do their thing, along with the archers, the perimeter
should be utterly destroyed. That is when the soldiers from within the gates would come pouring out to do battle. The lancemen have a longer reach, and they shall fell half of them before they come even close to us.


"With all the smoke and confusion, our mounted dragoons can sweep right in and end the lives of the foe before they even begin to regroup. By the time they regroup, our horses would've been killed, and we would be nothing but swordsmen. That is why the swordsmen and the rest of the lancemen are last."


Payton nodded in agreement. "That is a good plan. Let's just hope it works."

Gaines chuckled in spite of himself. "Believe me, Count, it will work. Let's get
these siege machines over these hills. We have a lot of work to do before the fun starts."


The siege machines could be heard from Trade City before they were seen. It was disheartening for the Cult of Wizzen to view such monstrosities. They had no weapons of that magnitude. It seemed like King Edgar Winefellow spared no cost when
recapturing one of his cities.


The sentries trembled while holding their spears. They were going to die that day, and they knew it. Wizzen had said nothing to them about the impending battle. Their Master stayed locked in his chamber all day with his maidens and did not venture outside. This disheartened the Cult even more.


One of the sentries pointed out over the horizon. "They have two ballistae!" he
cried.


"And a catapult!" cried another.


"Surely this is madness," cried a third. "We can't possibly win this battle."


"We must give it our all," said the first. "We must warn our Master of the
situation; he will know what to do."


Miraculously, Wizzen appeared before them instantly. He was wearing battle
armor a full knight's panoply something he had never done before. Wizzen had no use for armor; he had his magic to protect him. This made his Cult think that maybe their Master's magic was fading him.


"What are you doing, standing about lazily?" snapped Wizzen. "Sound the alarm!
Ready the boiling oil! Deploy the caltrops! Do you fools not know we are at war?" Hastily the three sentries scrambled to do their Master's bidding.


"This is it," said Gaines to the Count. They were standing on a hill not far from
where the catapult and archers were positioned. "Order the catapult to be launched, and the archers to fire."


"Shouldn't we say something to encourage them first?" spoke Payton softly.


Sir Gaines nodded. He positioned himself so that all could hear his voice, and he
raised his tone so that the distance attackers could hear him also. "Men," he bellowed, and all side conversations ceased, "here we are about to enter into battle. I'm not promising you that all of you will come out alive I could never lie to soldiers but I do promise you that none of this is in vain. We fight for a reason, whatever that reason may be to you. Some fight for pride, some for love, some for vengeance, some out of honor, and some for the Good King. Chose what you fight for, hold that reason in your heart as you do battle, and you shall never die in vain. Arm yourselves and let us prepare to dance!" Gaines hefted Titan into the sky, and the armed warriors roared in response. They had found their reason to fight, and they were willing to die for that reason that reason was Sir Gaines.


The Lame Warrior turned to Payton and nodded. The Count then addressed the
distance attackers. "Archers," ordered the Count, "light your arrows! The first wave shall commence in one minute."


It has begun, thought Wizzen as the first ablaze arrow flew over the wall of Trade City, striking one of his sentries dead. The end has begun.

Want to comment on this Short Stories? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Short Stories and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...