Scars of battle

For two weeks now, they had endured. The castle walls were blackened and stained but stood. The men and women defending them stood too, shoulders rounded and leaning on their weapons. Exhaustion covered their faces, but they resisted, for now at least.

The commander was dead; killed two days ago. A young woman in bronze armour was shouting orders, encouraging her soldiers to ready themselves for the next attack. She must have been barely 25, but every solider, however seasoned, however self-important, followed her instructions without complaint.

'Up men, up. We don’t have long. Archers, prepare to draw your bows. Artillery, ready to fire. We have a minute or two at the most.'

On the other side of the wall, crawling things gathered: their shapes and sizes uncountable. Long claws, sharp teeth, and pincers. Armoured skin, leathery wings and bulging eyes. Things to fill dreams with terror.

She pointed, her bronze forearm guards catching the sun. 'Fire!'

The ballista’s launch, ripping holes through thorax and abdomen, spouting earth into the air. Catapults chuck barrels in high loops that come splintering to the ground. Viscous liquid splashes everywhere. Arrows, fire tipped, ignite a wave of fire.

Inhuman voices screech and wail.

From her position on the central barbican, the captain watched the gathering forces. A large mass outside the wall and behind an even larger force, still some way off.

'Captain, that’s the last of the fire liquid.' said a middle-aged man, face craggy and covered in dirt, standing next to the captain. A team leader of an artillery band, he now acted as second in command. He rubbed the sweat from his receding hairline.

'Get the mages ready.' The captain’s eyes were fixed in the distance, her neck craning. There was something unsettling about how this mass of slashing scythes and knife-edged limbs were organised. Usually, they charged recklessly. but these were organised now, forming waves and holding back reserve forces.

'Mages are on their way up captain.'

Twelve mages, the only survivors from the last two weeks, lined up on the battlements. They formed in two groups of six on the two towers protecting the castles corners.

'No time to wait, let them have it.'

Great snakes shook themselves to life. The two great bronze chains over 100 metres long and covered in spikes, uncoiled. They undulated upwards like cobras dancing to the notes of a flute. And then they came down.

The ground in front of the castle erupts from the force of the impact. Bodies are impaled or crushed under the weight. The chains shake again. Spikes tear through flesh and earth as each one swipes from left to right and back again. The earth lets out a mighty growl, drinking the blood, filling the shattered ground. The chains stop, and everything is still on the hillside.

'Good, now pull the chains back.' the captain ordered.

'The mages are exhausted, captain, they need a rest.'

'Now Kannan, if we don’t, the things will climb them and be on the wall.'

The chains pulled back, slowly lifting off the ground, and fell, barely raising a couple of metres from the ground. They lifted again and fell once more.

'Break the chains! Toss them over.'

Men smashed with hammers, axes and swords against the chains, but they weren’t breaking. More creatures were coming.

'Smash those chains!'

It was clear that they wouldn’t break. Each was reinforced with magic to survive forceful impacts with ground, stone and armour.

'Oil or tar, do we have any left?' The captain asked.

'There might be a barrel in the gatehouse. Maybe in the kitchen,' Kannan replied.

'Send men to grab whatever we have and bring it here quickly.'

The captain looked over at the coming forces. The oil won’t come quick enough. The second wave was ready and charging, and the main force wasn’t far behind.

'Shield bearers, Get to the base of those chains. Spearman, form a line behind. We’re going to have to hold them off. Archers, get your bows ready again.'

Arrows loosed onto the charging forces. Most bounced off, but those magically accelerated managed to slice through exoskeletons with a crack.

'That’s it no more time. Archers, fallback into the courtyard.'

Up the chain they climb, grotesque mouths of mandibles and chattering teeth. The shields hold them back and the spears pierce them. Bodies fall over the wall, but more follow. Above wings flutter. Mandibles bite.

'Captain, the barrier is weakening.'

'I can see that! If you’ve got a crossbow, slingshot, anything, take aim at their wings.'

Men were beginning to fall. The shield wall was pushed back. Not much time left.

'The oil captain!'

A dozen men were carrying the barrels up the tower stairs, heading towards the two chain bases.

'Shield bearers, push those things back, now! Get that oil over the side.'

The group on the left managed to push the insects back. Oil lubricated the chain. Creatures slipped and tumbled down. That would buy some time. Except, on the right...

'Kannan, take command here.'

The captain jumped from the tower onto the main battlements and ran. She pulls out her sword and makes her way through the line of men. Her sword raises. With one downward thrust, she cuts through three of four of the creatures. Raising her left hand, she then releases a magic shockwave through the next group making their way up the chain, sending them falling back to the ground.

The oil pours down right chain. The captain and her men use watercraft magic to guide its path so that every inch of the chain is covered. The creatures slip on the oily surface, no longer able to grip it. The walls remain safe for now.

'Kira!' A young, high-pitched voice shouted up from the outer bailey. 'Kira, something is coming.'

'Lauren, you should be back behind the second curtain wall! Get back now.'

'In a moment. You need to know, three creatures with eminence magic are heading this way.'

The captain looked out over the crenulated wall. On the other side of the battlefield, the rear force had arrived. The reason for the enemy’s discipline became apparent. Three demons.

They were massive, at least ten foot tall. The two males had great curled horns on either side of their head, supported by thick neck, shoulder and back muscles. The female, slighter than the males, had two shorter spikes around 20 centimetres long. The arms and lower legs of all three were covered in purple-black fur and their torsos and thighs were protected by thick leather.

The largest steps forward and crouches down to the ground. Like an unleashed spring, he shoots into the sky and lands dead centre of the outer bailey. It took just a few seconds for the wall to be breached.

'Archers full back! All forces retreat to the second wall, now!'

Behind the great demon, rows of stones turn in the air like the blades of a windmill, neatly arranged in layers of circles. They look like a mosaic, forming a densely layered disk. The demon lifts his left arm and points a purple circle of light on his wrist towards the nearby soldiers.

Stones from the disk snake around his shoulders, arm and forearm, heading towards his wrist. They pass through the purple circle and are unleashed. Dozens of stones shoot forward; projectiles ripping through everything.

Men fall or run in panic. The demon lifts the sword in its right arm, a long thin blade over two metres long, and swings it down. The left arm raises again and shoots.

This time a great fiery explosion rips through the men. Another shot of stone follows, sending plumes of dust up into the air. Stones rattle against metal, men scream in pain and shouts of panic piece the air.

There’s chaos now. The outer bailey will soon be lost, the captain bitterly thought, we’ll need to retreat.

Two more demons drop down from the sky. The female grips the edge of the wall with talons, just four meters away from the captain.

One of those monsters wrought destruction among our forces, three will be our end.

The captain grips her sword tight and charges forward. She reinforces her body with whatever mana she has left and swipes at the demon in front of her. It parries with an axe, pushing her back.

The jewels on the captain’s left forearm guard begin to shine red and blue. She throws a punch at the heavy axe, splintering the metal and sending shards clattering down. She follows up with a barrage of sword swings, one well-aimed thrust grazes the she-demon's right thigh. The beast steps back and picks up a sword by her feet. The two exchange a long series of blows, seeking an opening.

In the courtyard below, a few soldiers still stand. One of them, a young woman, with plaited hair stares intently, her eyes shining green.

'Not yet, I haven’t found a weakness yet. Keep it back. Keep it back.'

Another swipe of the demon’s sword, and two more men fall.

'There must be something. What could it be?' Her eyes fix on the rotating stones behind the demon’s back. Some of them look like glass. They were deliberately hidden behind its broad back, but nothing escapes Lauren’s eyes. 'There, that’s it. Keep it distracted for just a few more seconds.'

The girl holds out her hand and half a dozen fire balls burst into life behind the demon. They grow larger and brighter, going from a bright red to yellow, from yellow to white. The girl closes her fingers, and they race forward, crashing into the glass phials and shattering them. The liquid inside bursts into flame and engulfs the demon.

The explosion expands. Fire tumbles in all directions. The girl has no time to move. Her arms crackle and seethe as she tries to cover her face from the flames. She screams in pain and falls to her knees.

The demon too lets out a deep long cry. Its back is badly burnt, hair still partially alight, yet it gets back onto its feet, supporting its weight on its sword. With a snarl it picks up a nearby spear and thrusts it with vicious strength at the kneeling girl. Weakened as the beast is, the spear still forces its way through breastplate, bone and flesh. The tip emerges from her back and lodges into the ground with such force the shaft snaps.

The demon pulls back the spear, staggers back and falls to the ground.

Seeing her comrade fall, the female demon drops her sword and jumps away. The captain, despite her exhaustion chases after her with several men in toe.

She arrives to see the two demons grab hold of their injured companion and flee over the wall.

The soldiers slowed their pace as they took in the remains of the fight. In the centre of large patch of blackened soil lay the young girl.

'Lauren!' The captain ran down to pick her up. 'What were you doing you stupid girl. Why would you fight a beast like that and without me. You should have stayed back.' Her words went unheard and unanswered.

'Captain, we need to fall back to the second wall. The enemy are disorganised but not defeated.' Kannan, the middle-aged veteran had joined the group from the barbican. He rested his hand on the captain’s back.

'We need a stretcher. Can we get one in time. No. Never mind, I’ll carry her.' The captain stood up, cradling the body in her hands, tears running down her checks.

'We must go. Please captain.'

Everywhere battle continued. Crazed creatures slashed at soldiers viciously but disorganised. The remaining defenders were falling back to the second curtain wall while a rearguard held back the enemy.

The captain looked to Kannan, 'Do we have any potions, Kannan? She needs healing.'

Kannan and the other men looked to their feet. There was no anger or harsh words. Each man had only pity for the woman that had kept them alive for the past two days.

'I’m sorry captain.' He turned around and grabbed the breastplate of a young solider nearby. 'Niall, and you, Rhys, help the captain. Make sure she gets to the other side of that gate.' He turned around, addressing all the men, 'Let’s get the hell out of here.'

Once all men were through and the rearguard safe, the gate came down.

Men and women all watched in silence as the captain walked through the inner bailey. They looked at the lifeless body in her hands. Those men that had ran looked away in shame. Those that stood and fought, cried freely. All owed their lives to this child, barely seventeen.

On a small bench, in a small garden surrounded by flowering trees, the captain laid her down. After one last embrace, she held the cold hands in hers and carefully removed a ring. She then took off her cape and placed it over the body before turning away, hand resting on her sword hilt.

                                                           *          *          *

Three days later relief came. A large force pushed its way through, slaying the remaining creatures in the valley and plains. By the time they reached the keep, scarcely fifty of the defenders were still able to stand. The rest were slumped down exhausted.

The new arrivals marvelled at the number of dead monsters that filled the castle enclosures and the plains outside.

When they asked how anyone could survive such an assault, the middle-aged veteran said only this: 'We suffered greatly, but we made sure to pay them back twofold or three.’

The captain said nothing. She walked to the far corner of the castle enclosure to a piece of land now blackened and burnt. Scorched tree trunks filled the space, and in one far corner stood a pile of ashes, burnt wood and iron nails. She stood there a while, tightly gripping a ring: just a little thing, shining gold, too small for any soldier’s finger.