Chapter Ten
Training Exercise
We topped out on a rise and saw the commotion we’d been hearing for several minutes now playing out in the valley below us. A troop of Kingdomers was being attacked by a larger contingent of foreign troops. The fighting was hard-pressed with both sides doing their best to eliminate the other, but the advantage was clearly on the foreigner’s side.
I was impressed immediately with the skill by which the attacking force had managed to ambush the Kingdomers. The enemy was well disciplined and if left to their own devices they would come out of the skirmish the victors.
I couldn’t allow that as I yet favored the side of the seven kingdoms over that of any Nicationer Kingdom. It seemed that I kept forgetting that, as a half breed, I had my foot on both sides of the divide.
“Shall we intervene Benaiah?” Thanuel asked.
I nodded, drew my sword, and urged my mount down the slope as fast as it could carry me as the others followed along, doing the same. We screamed our cries of war and the sound registered on some of the attacking force who turned in their saddles to see the cause of the disturbance.
The light forest through which we were charging downhill made it hard to gauge how many of us there were, but apparently our war cries made it seem like there were more of us than there actually were.
Enemy swordsman who had dismounted to fight in the melee quickly remounted or were pulled up behind warriors still mounted. The enemy force peeled away from the engagement, escaping down the valley in an orderly retreat.
Even though they had given up the battle easily and were on the retreat, it was obvious that it wasn’t from an act of cowardice. They were well-trained and had good leadership. They were out to win the war and not sacrifice everything for one skirmish. A worthy adversary.
We stopped our mad charge and pulled up in front of the puzzled Kingdomer force. One who appeared to be in authority asked in a quizzical tone, “There are just eight of you?”
“Yes,” I answered simply, as I re-sheathed my sword.
There was the blare of horns then and the sound of onrushing horses. At first I thought the enemy had returned, but the approaching host was filing into the scene of conflict from the opposite direction. They wore the blue and white tunics of the Kingdom of Philanthia as did the scouting party we had just rescued.
Philanthia was by far the strongest of all the seven Kingdomer Nations and many said that they were also the most noble. Time would tell.
I turned my mount to face the onrushing host and to learn what our fate as sojourners through their land would be. I heard Jarken exclaim something under his breath, only to then be followed by Philuke saying something unintelligible as well. I turned in the saddle to look at them, wanting to know what they did, but they had fallen silent.
Thanuel’s face was watchfully cautious and I looked to him to explain what was going on.
“It’s the King of Philanthia himself. I’d advise treading softly, Benaiah. Kings have a fickleness to their hearts which isn’t wise to upset.”
I nodded and turned forward in the saddle again. I suddenly felt very nervous and uncertain as I watched the fast approaching King and his entourage of knights.
As was becoming increasingly habitual of me, I asked in a prayer to El Elyon, “What should I say?”
I hadn’t been expecting an answer but when one came I felt rocked to the core.
“Go with the King and do all that he requires, until peace is achieved in his lands.”
Sitting straight as a board in the saddle, I felt my heart all aflutter as I dealt with the reality that I had just received a Divine dictate. Somehow, knowing what my role in life was to be for the next little while caused stress to increase within me as never before.
Before, when I hadn’t known what to do next, I hadn’t felt overly responsible for what resulted, but now I had to make what was asked of me come to reality.
If this new mission was of El Elyon then He would bring it to fruition and open the doors that needed opened and shut those not needed. My experience in the Wasteland as to the Divine placement and order of all creation came back to serve me well now.
I sat still as the King drew to a halt not a horse length away from me. Energetically the King spoke, “I saw the whole thing! Tell me brave strangers, where are you bound?”
Something within me seemed to bind any disclosing about the High Priestess of Vella, whom Kuri had tasked me with bringing to him sometime in the future.
Trying to make positive that I didn’t stumble in my words I said, “We’ve come from Lancandia most recently. The future, as far as I know, is open before us. We are honest men and we beg permission to make our way through Philanthia.”
“You have it, but I pray that you will instead stay on in my employ. I have need of more fearless men such as you.”
More and more I was learning not to question the ways of El Elyon. What He willed would come to pass.
I inclined my head forward in a deferential bow, “You do us a great honor. I think I speak for all my men in that we would be honored to serve with the forces of Philanthia for a time. How long a time I cannot say, as by right of allegiance I owe El Elyon my first oath of allegiance over any King of the seven kingdoms and if He should require it of me I will leave to do His bidding.”
I heard Thanuel groan slightly, but I’d said what I had in good conscience and the King seemed to receive it so.
“Neither do I ask any man to go beyond what El Elyon should ask of him, in terms of allegiance to me as King. For now I am glad to have you and your men. Come, let’s be off to the capital! But first, your name sir?”
“Benaiah,” I responded, slightly embarrassed that I had no last name to add to it. Such an admonition was clear evidence of my position forever within the lower echelons of society.
The King didn’t seem to mind though, “You will ride up front with me. Now, let’s be off for Ranfor!”
I did as ordered, only I tried to keep my horse slightly back from the King’s horse out of deference to his high rank, but it was clear that he wanted me to talk further so reluctantly I drew close to him.
“Tell me, a man who serves El Elyon such as you do, how do you so willingly make a commitment of time to me?”
A moment of decision passed, but there was no substitute for honesty, “El Elyon told me to serve with you for a while even before you made mention of it.”
The King nodded, but said nothing more.
Several miles went by before the King spoke, “It’s good to be in the presence of an honest man again. Not only one who is honest, but one who obeys the Most High as well. It has been a long time since I met such a man, a young one at that. Such wisdom does not usually follow those of your age.”
“I had a good teacher,” I said simply, as I did not want the King’s praise of me to continue. I already felt embarrassed enough by what he had said.
By way of trying to change the conversation I asked, “Who was the enemy that we stopped from attacking your men?”
The King smiled briefly and glanced over at me, “Humility, another worthy aspect of character. I have a feeling that you are nothing short of a blessing sent straight from El Elyon to help me in these troubling days.”
Nothing more was said for several minutes until the king answered my question, “The attacking force was that of the Nicationer Nation of Crona.”
Now that was a surprise even to me. Ever since I was a child I had heard of the strong and prosperous peace between the Kingdom of Philanthia and the Nicationer Kingdom of Crona. I expressed as much, “I thought Crona was a longtime friend of Philanthia’s?”
The King nodded grimly, “They were, but that’s all changed now. Three months ago they seized our trade delegations and our interests within their nation. Soon thereafter came the border raids. It’s nothing of the severity that the Kingdom of Thyana is experiencing, but it’s been getting worse. More and more have died on both sides and to this day I am clueless as to what is the cause of all this unprovoked aggression on the part of the Cronians.”
Silence stretched on for a moment before the King asked, “Where do you originate from Benaiah?”
I’d known that question was forthcoming, but answering it was made no better by having the foreknowledge of it being asked.
“My mother is of the Kingdom of Smirnaz. My father was a Rollanic tribesman.”
The King said nothing and I waited, expecting him to tell me to leave because of my mixed parentage. Instead I heard him say, “I’ve heard it said that the Rollanic Knights are great horsemen. Is that true?”
“That much is true Sire,” I said and to my surprise that was as far as the questioning went. I continued to ride beside the King, who seemed content to just have me by his side.
*****
Four years later
Yet one more patrol through scorched farm fields and abandoned homesteads. It was depressing and clear evidence that the latest peace agreement with the Nicationer Nation of Crona had failed once more.
There was a lot that reminded me of the low lands of Thyana, but the enemy we faced here was different. They weren’t hybrid lion men engineered by the fallen messengers of El Elyon to terrorize and corrupt mankind.
No, this was an entirely different kind of war. One that made no sense as it seemed Crona had no stomach for the war that they continually provoked.
The enemy had, on multiple occasions, allowed farming families to flee instead of outright killing them. The attacks had been getting worse, but still Crona seemed to lack a killer instinct when it came down to it.
It was perplexing and yet the damage and loss of lives to the Kingdom of Philanthia was substantial. The King was on the verge of ordering a full out invasion of Crona. Such an action was not wise I thought, but there was little other option given the continued breaking of peace agreements and the many border raids.
I looked around me at the soldiers that I led. This was a training exercise and not so much a real patrol mission. All of them were new recruits being put through their paces in preparation for increasing the size of the army in order to invade Crona and yet remain secure on Philanthia’s other borders. All the young men of Philanthia that could be spared from industry and the farms had been called up for active duty as soldiers.
The city and farm boys around me, although ironically some of them were as old as me, knew absolutely nothing when it came to fighting in a war. If they didn’t learn fast though they’d soon find out the hard way.
I’d worked tirelessly to teach them what I knew in hopes that some of them would pick up on it and thus more of them would have a greater chance of survival when open conflict occurred. Each of my friends were likewise in command of a batch of young recruits, facing the same uphill battle as I was in terms of turning men of peace into men of war.
Philanthia was a kingdom long at peace and, while they fielded an impressive army, there were few with much, if any, battle experience within the ranks. The last five months of my life had consisted of turning raw recruits into fighters, who were then transferred into more regular divisions of the army.
It had been both a rewarding experience and a horrendous one. Some recruits had excelled, while others just weren’t cut out to be soldiers. The case in point for the latter were the two scouts that were even now approaching the column.
I came to a stop and the column halted behind me in expectation of the scouts' report. The two scouts pulled up and the favored spokesperson of the two rattled off, “Not a thing to be seen Sir.”
Slightly aggravated I asked, “Where did you look?”
Both scouts looked back at me blankly and then one pointed over towards the Nicationer Nation of Halifaz, across which Cronian Raiders had been slipping in order to raid Philanthia. “Over there,” he said, looking at me as if I was stupid.
I fought hard against the urge to scream. Neither of the boys were old enough to even grow a beard worth shaving, so what was the use in yelling at them. I called on a hidden reserve of patience as I sought to be constructive in my criticism, “As scouts you are the eyes and ears of the force you are attached to. You are the front line. The safety of all these men behind me depends on you two doing your job. Now, tell me why it takes two of you to ride along the border?”
Both recruits looked at me in nervousness and I guessed that some of the anger I had been restraining was visible. Haltingly the one asked, “What should we have done?”
“This column is riding parallel with the border. Every soldier in this command is craning their head towards the border in order to be the first to see the enemy coming. Should a greater force than our own attack from the border the option remains to us to simply retreat into Philanthia if…….… if we’ve not been cut off by a force already within Philanthia! One of you should have rode to the rear and the other to the front. Once 2 miles out from the column you should have angled back, one along the borderlands and the other along the homeward side of Philanthia, but as of right now we are blind to what lays behind us, ahead of us, and towards Philanthia proper! This is unacceptable!”
“We’re sorry sir. We weren’t thinking.”
“No, you weren’t listening, because I just reiterated everything I told you both this morning before we left camp!”
Both soldiers winced visibly, but I wasn’t done with them. I was so intent on the pair of scouts before me I almost tuned out the exclamation of alarm in the ranks behind me. In sudden dread I looked toward Philanthia and saw my nightmare become reality, as a mounted force bearing the standard of Crona separated out from a patch of forest.
Drawing my sword I used it to point to the oncoming line of cavalry, “Case in point! Fall into the line!” The two scouts hop skipped their mounts quickly away from me, only wanting to disappear from my view forever.
I watched the approaching cavalry closely. They were moving too slow in my opinion and there were too few of them. We were almost even numbers, but the Cronians were smarter than that.
I looked to the sides of the border we patrolled and I thought I saw a bit of movement off to the one side on Philanthia’s side. So that was the game. They wanted us to charge the force before us and then two flanking forces, still hidden, would converge on us from along the border, while we were locked immobile with the first attack.
If I attacked the force before us a lot of boys would die this day as few yet had the stomach or abilities needed to power through the force of soldiers that stood between us and home, in order to avoid the trap of the two flanking forces. The only place the enemy probably wasn’t was over the border, because they knew that was where we would be looking for them.
I swung my horse to the side and pointed with my sword to the Halifaz border, “We ride over the border and head north and make an all-out run for it! There are more of our patrols to the north. We reach one of those patrols, then we can turn and fight, but not before then! Now ride hard if you ever want to see your girls again!”
The column broke rank and took off at a hard gallop toward the Halifaz border. I stayed to the rear and watched as three enemy forces became visible. The game was up and all three enemy units charged for us.
The enemy force was easily three times our size in number. They weren’t raw recruits either.
I charged after the column as a grim undertone overwhelmed the day. A mile over the border we headed north and by now every one of the soldiers I commanded fully comprehended the gravity of the situation. We either outran the enemy or we all died. It was as simple as that.
We were in grave danger of being overtaken by the northern flanking force as they, of the three enemy units, had the least amount of ground to cover in order to reach us. Arrows zinged out through the air and riders all over the column ahead of me fell off their horses.
The column was in disarray as boys, suddenly forced to be men, watched their childhood friends pitch over the sides of their horses to be trampled under by more friends, even as for many it was the first sight of blood they had ever seen in life.
“Onward! Don’t stop!!!” I yelled, but it wasn’t needed. They’d seen enough of war and all they wanted now was to be back in the safety of their homes.
More riders fell under a fresh wave of arrows. One boy landed on his feet after his horse pitched over head first and I reached down and grabbed him up. The chances of making it riding double weren’t good, but for me it wasn’t right not to try.
A hill was fast approaching and the horses ahead of me scrambled up it quickly. I was confident that the bulk of the force would make it back to safety and in a way that was a victory.
My horse hit the slope and lurched off to the side. Glancing back I saw at least three arrows lodged deep in the horses rump. I pulled the reins hard and swerved into another of the rearmost riders and shoved the trembling rider I had picked up across the saddle horn of the other soldier’s mount.
His horse nearly went down, but then regained itself and went on up the slope, but mine didn’t. I kicked my feet free of the stirrups as it went tumbling off to the side. I landed in a ball of motion and rolled up to my feet in hopeful expectation of seeing a riderless horse nearby.
Instead, I watched a rider peel off from the back of the pack and head back for me. It was one of the scouts that I’d chastised. As if in slow motion I watched the arrow slam into his shoulder and knock him free from the saddle.
I rushed forward and swatted his hand away from pulling the arrow out that was lodged deep in his shoulder, “No, don’t do that! You’ll bleed out in seconds!”
The boy was crying and blubbering out, “I’m sorry sir! This is all my fault!” Over and over and over.
I pulled him back against me as he shuddered from both the pain of the arrow and his own anguish.
“Now you know what war is all about,” I said, at a loss for anything else to say.
He passed out after a few more brief moments of struggle as he kept trying to pull the arrow out and kill himself in a suicidal bent of mind. I let go of my hold on him and let him ease down to the ground.
Raising back up, I turned to face the encircling column of enemy riders. What happened now was anyone’s guess.
A Cronian Knight on a splendid coal black stallion separated out from the encircling riders and approached. He sheathed his sword and then, to my surprise, he removed his helmet. I watched him look about the scene of dead horses and fallen youth, until his eyes came back to mine and I acknowledged the ready intelligence to be found there.
His face was etched in regret as he said, “It is a sad thing to kill so many so young. You did well to deliver so many of them from certain death, but then I would expect no less from a warrior of your skill. I will take your sword now in surrender. There has been enough killing today.”
Wordlessly I pulled my sword free and, turning it end for end, I handed it up to my captor and potential executioner. The man accepted my sword with a nod and then gesturing to the fallen scout he said, “Men, see to him and any other wounded that you find. We ride for the city of Orwa within the hour.”
Turning to me once more, he dismounted. Approaching, he removed his gauntlet and offered me his hand. Feeling unsure of what was going on I left his hand untaken. His head moved to the side, “Surely there can be honor between fellow warriors?”
“There can be,” I said slowly before finishing with, “as long as my wounded are cared for.”
“Even as we speak!” he said, gesturing expansively, and incredibly, I saw it was true. Cronian soldiers were caring for the fallen recruits.
I shook his hand and asked, “To whom do I have the pleasure of being prisoner?”
The man’s face split to reveal a pearly white smile, “Emir Artaxis Zurin at your service!”
“Well Artaxis, what happens now?”
“I take you to my home and perhaps manage to ensure some meaningful conversation for myself to help offset this terrible war.”
The man and the actions of his men were a complete mystery to me and I quite docilely accepted my lot for the time being as a prisoner of war.