Keep an Ear Out

The medics got whatever help they could from the soldiers still alive. Only a couple, though, as Mathews continued his demands to hold the line against the enemy. A couple of the medics were taken out by the men on the cliffs and a few of the injured men were finished off, as well.

“We need to just get these men out of here,” the head medic said. “This wall is lost.”

Andy looked back. “There’s still men up there,” he protested. “We can’t just leave them!”

“We have to. We don’t have the manpower to get them all.” The medic pursed his lips. “I’m sorry, kid.” He analyzed the room they were in. A couple basic wooden chairs stood beside a table. He pointed at them. “Quick, see if he can break off some crutches or canes.”

Using their brute force, the soldiers broke down the furniture as best they could. One chair’s back became a crutch, but the top was a bit uncomfortable. It was the only one they could manage: the back of the other chair shattered into unusable bits. A handful of usable canes were now available from the table, and they were handed to men who could still manage being mobile. There wasn’t enough for everyone, but the mobile thankfully numbered enough to take care of the immobile. Andy once again helped Johnson, who refused a cane when it was offered to him. The man shot in the gut was being carried by two men, and he wasn’t the only one. There were five others unable to move themselves.

“Alright, let’s go!”

The head medic took the lead through the door at the other end of the room. Andy helped Johnson hobble his way there.

“We need to be on guard,” one of the soldiers said beneath the weight of a man with a busted leg. “Heard someone say the Khardis are roaming the castle.”

The head medic undid the dust cover on his holster and drew his sidearm. “You heard him, boys.”

Most everyone who could had their weapons at the ready. Wounded soldiers had their rifles in their hands so the medics could focus on carrying them. The pairs carrying men couldn’t draw their weapons, but they kept the dust covers off their guns. Johnson was one of the wounded who had his rifle ready. Andy found himself wondering if they would even make it to the hall in one piece. There was no word on how many Khardis were in the castle. There was also no telling how long Mathews and his men would last on the wall, nor how long it would take the Khardis behind them to catch up. Carrying the weight of the wounded was bound to slow them down. Johnson must have seen the fear on Andy’s face, because after wincing a bit when he put pressure on his foot, he flashed a confident smile.

#

For a while there weren’t any issues. They moved as fast as they could given the circumstances, but it still wasn’t swift. The benefit was they weren’t so fast they were missing any signs of the enemy. The halls throughout the castle were silent, and no one caught the slightest whiff of any enemies. At least until the head medic, who maintained his lead the whole time, gave a command to stop. After a minute, the reason behind the command was obvious. Voices could be heard somewhere in the halls, and they weren’t the accents Andy had grown accustomed to hearing in the castle.

The head medic motioned. They all continued forward, slower than before. One of the wounded men stumbled, bumping into a metal stand. There was a mild clattering before the man and the stand were caught. They all froze for several moments.

“Okay,” the head medic whispered. “I don’t think they heard. Let’s keep moving.”

Walking past a doorway leading to another hall, Andy overheard the accented voices.

“Did you hear it?”

“Yeah, I think it came from over here.”

Without warning to anyone else, Andy stopped walking and stared through the door. Johnson almost fell from the sudden stop, and nearly brought Andy tumbling down with him.

“What?” Johnson asked. “We need to keep moving.”

Andy shook his head. “Didn’t you hear them?”

“We all heard them,” said a soldier next to them. “That’s why we need to keep moving before they decide they want to head this way.”

Andy looked at them all in astonishment. “But they’re already heading this way. I... I thought you heard them?”

“How do you know?” came another voice.

“There’s definitely someone down here.” The accented voice was quiet that time.

“Johnson, they’re coming this way!”

Johnson, startled by the shift in Andy’s voice, lifted his rifle at the door. Only a second later, a man in a foreign uniform turned the corner with his own rifle raised. Johnson fired. The man’s gun fired off as he fell down. A soldier handed a wounded man he was helping off to Andy and Johnson, then inched his way through the door. Two gunshots sounded and the man stumbled back into the door frame, fumbling with the bolt of his rifle. Another shot sounded, and he slid down the wall. He slammed the bolt forward then fired.

“I’ll be okay.” The man stood up. “Let’s go.”

“Did none of you hear what they said?” Andy asked.

“Of course we heard,” Johnson answered. “But they were speaking Khardi.”

Andy gave him a look. “It was English.”

“What’s English?”

If Andy had a hand free, he would have smacked himself. Spartan said he would be able to understand everyone, and that they would understand him. “Never mind,” he said, trying to ignore the heat rising in his face.

A knowing look came upon the head medic’s face. “I’ve heard about this. You and the other two can understand them. Keep an ear out, eh? Could help us.”

“Okay,” Andy said. “I guess I should be able to do that.”