Salvation Earth
5. The Chest

Rations replenished, Arran’s party had a good breakfast to march on. As dawn broke, they finalised their plans and were ready to go. Captain Hendra appeared through the keep gate and they slung their packs on their backs.

“May I share your burden?” Jordan asked Arran. “That chest looks heavy.”

“No, anyone who brings back spoils from battle must carry his own,” replied Arran, jealously guarding the chest and not letting on that it weighed almost nothing.

So, they set off, with their leader looking like a pack animal, at a fair pace and one at which the soldiers could keep up with. As always, Arran impressed everyone by carrying an impossible looking burden.

The land north of Cam was only mildly hilly and offered little resistance to their progress. They stopped at midday for a light snack and are quickly on their way. Just before the sun disappeared over the horizon, Arran halted for camp. Everyone collapsed at once, the last few days beginning to show. The next day, after a hearty meal, they marched on passing the lone inn and Arran said that they should see Cam soon after midday. Sure enough, there it loomed. A grey town with little in the way of defences.

Arran made a point of telling Captain Hendra that the town must be made ready for the expected attack. “Outlying buildings must be cleared, and a defensive wall built around the town this side of the river.”

“That is some task,” replied the captain.

“Use the bricks from the buildings. Otherwise the town is defenceless and will be overrun straight away.”

As the group marched through the outskirts of the town, people lined the streets, eager for news of the raid. Some cheered, most gaped, for it was rare for Greyhaven warriors, in full battle dress, to make such a public entrance to town. The men soon approached the baron’s castle itself and trumpeters blew a fanfare from the battlements. Soldiers cheered and ran into the courtyard followed by Nadine. She and Arran struggled into each other’s arms.

“I have been so worried. The moment we parted I knew we had done the wrong thing. We must never part again,” said Nadine.

“Come now, we were only a day behind you in getting back. The barrows slowed you. You have not had to worry long,” said Arran.

“I worried from the moment we parted. What happened? All the great houses are here. This must be the first time in living memory. The baron got them here.”

“So, they are at last taking this seriously.”

“They have all been waiting for you.”

“But you and the soldiers with you must have reported,” said Arran.

“We did, but that just made them more eager to hear from you. The soldiers made you out to be a real hero.”

“Well, I am,” bragged Arran.

“Shut up. They exaggerated an awful lot.”

“I’m sure they didn’t.”

“Shut up and come on,” said Nadine, rolling her eyes.

The warriors were led into the main hall where all the leader’s minions were. Arran was led on into the baron’s private audition chambers. The baron jumped up, rushing forward as fast as his bulk would allow, thrust out his hand and said, “Arran, good to see you. What news have you?”

“Err, much, my lord,” said Arran, quite taken aback by such a warm greeting.

“We are privileged to have a council with full membership of the elders from the great houses. Well, some were here anyway, as they were burnt out of their holdings. But most came at my request. We have had our disagreements, I know, but this is an opportunity to unify the houses and the barony wouldn’t you say.”

“Unify? This is no time to be practising politics. If we don’t get it right, there won’t be any barony or houses left,” said Arran.

“Now see here, Arran. I don’t know that I like your tone. Sounds like treason.”

“For the God’s sake, baron. Stop keep worrying about your internal security. None of the houses have ever been interested in your position. They are farmers by nature. We have a far greater threat from outside. North, to be precise. And there are far more of them than us. If we don’t stand together, we are doomed. And they would butcher us. Literally, for they eat people,” said Arran.

The baron sat down. “That bad, eh, Arran? Still I must say I am surprised at the amount of grain that you rescued. It looks more than we lost.”

“We are probably not the only lands the barbarians steal from. They are very powerful and war-like. And I think have great numbers.”

“Before we go in to the council, I want you to tell me everything and we will work out how much they need to know.”

“I think they need to know all. We are all in this together. One falls, we all do,” said Arran.

“Yes, yes, but we don’t want to start a panic. Tell me what you know,” urged the baron.

So, Arran went through his tale from start to finish, except the bit about the blade and chest of course.

The baron pondered for a while and finally said, “I don’t suppose the enemy will simply forget us?”

“No. Not a chance.”

“Then the only thing we can do is prepare and be ready. Well, as ready as we can be. And meet them with all our strength combined. We had best tell the council all.”

“Yes, we must. They must be aware of the full seriousness of the situation if we are to get them to join forces. They must realise that they could not stand alone.”

“Come on then, the Council of Elders awaits,” said the baron.

The two men marched through to the great hall. The elders were sitting around a huge oval table. Jarrad and Nadine sat at one end. At the other was a big throne-like seat for the baron and an empty chair next to that for Arran. They sat down, and Arran noticed that most of the Elders were dressed in full ceremonial regalia.

“Well, they mean business,” he thought.

Snade arose from the other side of the baron. “Attention, attention, his Lordship the Baron of Cam, Lord of all Sutherlands and Guardian of the Realm gives audience to the gathering of the Elders of the Great Houses.”

The baron cleared his throat. “Her-humph. We are very fortunate in these troubled times to have here with us and fully on our side, the Greyhaven warriors. For those of the northern houses who have perhaps not met these warriors, I can only say that they are the most fearsome fighters in all the lands. Trustworthy and dedicated in all they do. I wish to extend my confidence to them now and if we are to get through what is to come, then I suggest that you all take heed of what they say and follow their leadership unquestionably. Here now to tell the tale of most recent events and information on what and who we are up against. I give you Arran of Greyhaven.”

Arran stood to a round of applause and cheers mixed with some uncertain mumblings. He then set about explaining the story all again amid gasps and various chatter. When he had finished and sat down, the men gathered and all started to ask questions at once.

“One at a time, please,” said the baron pointing at someone.

The elder stood. “I know everyone has questions, but I think we should just concentrate on what we are going to do. I do not doubt the seriousness of our situation. My own holding was sacked recently. We were lucky to escape with the numbers we did. If the barbarians were not so interested in the grain, I fear we would be no more. So, no more questions now. I would like to hear what Arran proposes and to say that whatever it is, I will go along with it.”

“You have nothing to lose now,” said another elder. “My lands in the west are untouched. Why should I tempt them to war? What can we do against such fearsome tribes?”

“Cowards,” said a large man with a thick ginger beard. “We are not afraid of barbarians. They sound a disorganised rabble. Even at ten times our number, with good planning and warning we can meet them. If we face them combined, we will win.”

A series of “Ayes, here heres,” went around the table.

“I am sure the barbarians will not stop,” said Arran, “but we have time if we get going now. If they come for full-scale war, it will take them time to prepare and travel here. I suggest we have more than two weeks. baron you should evacuate the northern keep. It will fall straight away and you will lose the men there. And evacuate all the remaining northern houses. Demolish all the cities’ outer buildings and repair the inner walls with the rubble. If we lose the castle, we will fall back over the river. We can hold them there for some time I imagine. After that we could fall back to my stronghold as a last resort. Though it would be far too crowded. Food would not last long either. It would give us further time, perhaps, and by then we may have got the barbarians’ numbers down substantially. They would also be strung out over an even greater distance. In the meantime, I will have scouts mobilised to warn us. In fact, I will lead my warriors to meet their army on the road. We will hit and run. We can outmanoeuvre them anytime. We will weaken our enemy as much as we can before they get here. I would like to take a division of your soldiers with me baron. I will try to split off sections of their force, lead them away, then cut them off and let your men deal with them. We will attack their supplies, scouts and any stragglers. We will raid their camps at night and make them think we are an army that they cannot find.

“Sounds good to me,” said the baron

“Aye, here here,” went around again.

“Before we set off, I will get some of my warriors to train your soldiers in formation combat. We cannot win in normal hand to hand fighting. We need a wall of locked shields with pike men second row back. These can thrust through the shields unnoticed by the enemy. When they lift their shields to fend off a blow from our front line, the pikes can go in below their shields. If the plan works, it will go well. We can retreat slowly and the enemy will advance over a wall of their own dead. That will break their confidence. But we must not allow our line to be breached. When it comes to it, my warriors will be behind the line ready to step in at any point if it is broken. We alone cannot form the whole line, but we will tackle the worst problems. In the meantime, the men need as much training and practice as possible. I want every forge going flat out. I will instruct them on what we need weapon wise. I believe there is a large forest to the west?” Arran asked.

“Yes, I am Yaggerson, son of Yaragorn. The forest lies on our lands. In the south west, the forest of Rendlestorm,” said a tall man dressed in finer woven, more colourful garments than most. “It is full of single stem needle-covered hardwood stems. Ideal for pikes. We use them a lot for working tools.”

“We are going to need hundreds. I want it organised,” said Arran.

The man jumped up and ran out. Another stood up. “I am Sarason, son of Sauron from the house of Lea Vale on our western border. I have five hundred men at my command. And my cousin in the lands beyond the valley is sworn to my allegiance, and can raise a further five hundred. On their behalf, I pledge their lives for this cause. I will send word now.”

“They will all be more than welcome, my lord.”

Applause went around the table.

“Now if you will excuse me, I must leave you to make arrangements. For I have had a hard journey, and I am weary. You can inform my number one,” said Arran nodding at Jarrad. With that he picked up the chest and marched out giving Nadine a look that said do not follow. But before leaving the castle, Arran slipped up some stairs, the guards seemingly caught up in the excitement were distracted, and found himself on the battlements. He intended to find a quiet spot, to calm himself, away from the bustle outside. He found himself on the roof of the great hall with the battlements on one side. Arran looked around in amazement. “The crafty old baron,” he thought. He was standing in the baron’s private vegetable garden. “He has done like us, on the roof. Obviously out of sight of the starving masses.” Arran stood amongst tall sticks supporting row upon row of beans. There were strawberries and other fruits that Arran had not even seen before. He stood a while with his eyes closed, breathing deep and slowly, meditating. Once he had calmed himself, he looked around again. “It is very private up here. I think I will test out my blade again and see if I can find any connection with the chest.”

Arran walked down the path to the middle of the garden. The sun was low now but up there the garden caught a lot of light. He put down the chest in the last rays of the sun. He had never had a proper chance to examine it properly. Now he opened it up and removing the helm, looked carefully at the contents. There were two black removable panels either side of a central panel that had buttons and a row of jewels set in it. Two silver extendible spikes were in the middle at the back, which Arran pulled out to their maximum. He then removed the two black panels. Finding them attached to the chest by shiny chords, he placed them on either side of the chest. Now he looked at the jewels. They looked quite dull but were of different colours. He started pushing the buttons and suddenly an amber jewel glowed. Arran stepped back. There was no sound. Then another glowed green. Arran decided not to go any further with this but to practice with the blade some more. This time, he would wear the helm to see if there was any unlikely magical connection with the blade. He placed the helm on his head. The next moment he found the blade in his hand and almost too fast to see, he swept down the path hacking down anything in reach. Down went the beanpoles as swift as lightning. Up and down the garden he went becoming less and less aware of what was going on. Faster and faster he went until every standing plant and stick were felled. He collapsed in a heap, quite drained, and lay there for some time.

Sᴇarch the FindNovel.net website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.