"Kill the knight!"
Adrian heard someone holler as he stumbled to the side, narrowly dodging an attack. He fell to the dirt but scrambled around to block a follow-up blow.
His shield, a mix of metal and wood held firm, but the impact left his arm with numbness.
Before the enemy could swing again, and while Adrian struggled to find his footing, a spear thrust toward his attacker. The man twisted his body, trapping the spearhead beneath his arm. He was about to bring his mace down on Dexton when Adrian lunged, driving his sword into the man's knee.
"Ugh?!"
The enemy faltered. Dexton seized the moment, yanking his spear free and swiping it at the man's head. There was a sickening snap, the man stumbled, and Dexton finished him with a sharp thrust to the neck.
Adrian finally got to his feet as the body slumped into the sand. The fighting still raged around them, a dance of steel, sand and blood.
It was clear they outnumbered the enemy unit, but Adrian saw the wave of enemies surging toward the only knight on the field. He realized their plan instantly.
"They're trying to kill the command! Protect Sir Cordell!" Adrian shouted.
Dexton and another soldier charged with him to support the knight, who had managed to find himself on the sand and was currently holding his ground against three men at once.
Arrows whistled through the air, archers trading volleys overhead and on the level. Adrian brought his shield up just as an arrow thudded into the wood, the vibration traveling straight to his arm and then to his shoulders. He ignored it, ramming his weight into a surprised foe and bringing the man down before finishing him with a downward stab.
However, Lady Luck seemed to dislike him today.
Adrian's shoulder suddenly snapped back as an arrow lodged itself deep into it.
He instinctively yanked the shaft out, grunting in pain, and with a thought, felt the familiar, tingling warmth of his Gift immediately mending the wound. An enemy sought to stop and took advantage of his pause, hurling an axe that Adrian barely caught on his shield before the man charged with a mace.
"Hup!"
The man was fast, delivering a flurry of blows that rattled Adrian's bones. With a low, powerful sweep, the mace caught the edge of Adrian's shield and ripped it from his grip.
His hand went sore, his fingers shaking. Their weapons met with a clang.
Adrian sidestepped, using his weight to slide his sword down the enemy's weapon and swiping at his neck.
Pang!
The enemy's gorget protected him, but the force made him tumble back. Adrian prepared to swing again, but the man retaliated with a desperate lash of his mace, catching Adrian in the ribs and sending him hitting the dirt.
"Arugh!"
His left side went numb. He groaned, instinctively rolling away just in time to dodge a head crushing smash. From the ground, he swiped his sword at the man's leg. As the enemy grunted in pain, Adrian rolled again and sprang back to his feet.
Holding only his sword, his left arm felt wooden until that warmth washed over it again.
His gift of Mending worked its wonders as it did it's best save him and then once it was done, he rolled his shoulders, feeling the strength return, and slashed at his foe. The man defended stubbornly, his battle-lust allowing him to fight and push on despite his injured leg.
Adrian deflected a swing and tried to punch the man in the face, but the enemy was faster, his gauntleted fist swung first, his head snapping to the side at the blow.
"Ugh!"
Adrian took several quick steps back to gain distance and recover from the blow. Just as the enemy was about to chase him down, an arrow buried itself in the man's stomach. Adrian capitalized on the opening, thrusting his sword into the enemy's face. Blood gushed onto Adrian's armor, drenching the metal before he pulled the blade free.
"Haah…. Haahh…"
Adrian scanned the field. The noise was dying down. A few enemies were fleeing into the distance as the last of the enemy fell.
They had won, at least against this ambush. But judging by the distant shouts and arrows flying from the front and inside the burnt village, the overall battle was still far from over.
"Are you alright?" Sir Cordell approached, his armor half-covered in gore. He reached down to reclaim a spear lodged in a corpse.
"Yes... I'm fine." Adrian said. If it wasn't for his Gift, he'd be a corpse himself, but he wasn't about to share that secret.
He looked at the bodies littering the ground, too many of them wore his own side's colors.
"Shit…" Adrian cursed. "Are we lost?"
They had won the skirmish, but at a terrible cost.
As the survivors gathered, Adrian saw that only a little over half of them were still capable of swinging a weapon, the rest too injured or dead. And it hadn't been a good hour since the battle started.
"Gather the injured over there." Sir Cordell ordered. "Keep your heads low. Bandage up and rest until the horn. By then, Lord Hardinge's forces will join us to pressure the castle side."
Adrian helped a fellow soldier to cover, letting the man lean on his shoulder as they hid behind a scorched building.
He did what he could, but his Gift could only help himself. He watched, helpless, as a neighbor from his village bled out after losing an arm.
The man's eyes went dull within a minute or two.
The adrenaline faded, leaving disgust and sick feeling in Adrian's gut. He turned to the side and retched, puking his breakfast onto the ground. The reality of all the deaths and killing was finally catching up to him.
"Steady now… don't puke your intestines out." Dexton said with a smirk, sporting nothing more than a few bruises.
Adrian wanted to quip back, but his throat felt too tight. He settled for a flat stare, which only made Dexton laugh.
"How was your first kill?" Dexton asked, settling in beside him.
"Great…" Adrian said sarcastically, leaning his head against the soot-covered wall.
They rested as arrows continued to streak across the sky, the sounds of fighting rising, to which before, Adrian had imagined was like music and was actually nothing more than people screaming and the clash of steel on steel and steel on flesh.
After half an hour, just as Adrian's nerves were beginning to steady, a horn blasted through the air.
Adrian exchanged a grim look with Dexton. They stood up, their expressions hardening. They were about to plunge into the heart of the fire.
"That's the horn." Sir Cordell barked, his voice booming. "Lord Hardinge's forces, led by Sir Rookie, will join us to pressure the castle. Lord Cenroy will attack from the front, while Lord Sanford takes the other side. Get ready!"
The soldiers responded with grim silence, tightening their grips on their spears and swords. The thunder of approaching boots signaled Lord Hardinge force's arrival. At the rear of the column, Adrian spotted the tall wooden ladders. He knew the coming struggle would make the previous skirmish look like a walk in the woods.
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"They're pushing, Ulric." Balden said.
"Good." Ulric peered through the window of a guard room atop the castle wall. He watched the Lords' forces advance, centered around a massive battering ram aimed at the main gate. "Get ready. As soon as our men give the signal of success, we abandon the walls."
Balden chuckled darkly. "Fools. By the time they break through those gates, we'll have shaved off half their numbers and then we'd be gone with something valuable. In the long run, we win."
Ulric didn't respond. He simply gripped the handle of his weapon. "Before that happens, let's go kill some climbers."
"Oh, you didn't even have to ask."
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Adrian's unit, merged with Hardinge's men, moved toward the walls. A arrows fell upon them, some had shield, others didn't but even with it, survival wasn't a surety.
Only the truly unlucky fell. Soon, they reached near the walls now. They weren't towering, perhaps five meters at most but they looked like an insurmountable blockade from Adrian perspective.
"Hold!"
"Stop!"
The commands echoed from the front. The ladder teams moved forward, waiting for the final signal.
Adrian stayed low, his shield overhead and his spear ready. He stared at the ladders with narrowed eyes.
Being the first one up was a death sentence, he planned to take his time, hoping the wall would be cleared before his turn came. Even better if he didn't have to go up at all.
Another horn blew, the signal that Lord Cenroy's ram had reached the gates.
"Move! Quick!" Sir Rookie shouted, leading the charge.
A primal war cry rose from the men as they rushed forward. Adrian tried to drag his feet, hoping to stay in the middle of the pack, but the press of bodies was too tight. He was swept along by the sheer momentum of a hundred rushing men.
Suddenly, Adrian was pressed against the bottom stone of the castle wall. A ladder thudded into place beside him. He froze, hoping others would scramble up first.
He didn't know if the men climbing already were brave or just too lost in the moment to consider the risk.
Thud!
Thud!
"Ugh!"
"Arhn!"
Rocks and arrows rained down from the wall above. Adrian's shield rang rattled and those around him without protection were either crushed or pierced. Bodies began to tumble from the sky, hitting the ground or the other men.
"Hey! What are you doing? Move!"
A soldier was about to climb the ladder before noticing him.
It was Dexton. "Staying underneath here, is no different from a sitting duck!"
He grabbed Adrian by the shoulder and shoved him toward the rungs of the ladder.
Adrian tried to resist, but there was nowhere to go, a wall of soldiers pushed from behind. Cursing his luck and Dexton in the same breath,
Adrian grabbed the wood and began to climb.
To victory or death.