Year Of The Bear - Ep.13
(Start at the beginning)
Carmel stepped outside leaving the warmth and quiet of the home behind him. The chill of night had well and truly set, causing his breath to turn smokey on the air. Kodiak filed out behind with Dolev making arrangements for Kass to be watched while they went to investigate.
While the town was foreign to their senses, the sound of the horn had blown back from the gate in which they’d entered. If that wasn't sign enough, after rounding the side of a cabin a string of torchlight's with wide spacing descended from the hill above the town. It was too dark for detail, with too much distance to make out exactly what was coming. The only surety was that something was coming, and by the recent concerns of the town, it was only good sense to stand ready to meet it.
The pair joined the line near the gate, a string of grown men around forty in number, spread thinly along the towns boundary. Torches lit their faces amidst pools of orange light. Eyes wide like saucers, watching the distant fire light and searching the surrounding darkness for signs of life.
The men nearest the fence were poorly armored, armed mostly with spears and the occasional piece of steel. Not a militia by any real standard but still good fighting men. If they carried anything- it was the will to defend their homes and the people within- something evident by the determined look on their faces. If nothing else, it spoke to a sense of reliability.
Behind them the greener, younger boys stood. Armed with bows and slings they seemed less intimidating than their forebears. But who needed strength and intimidation when you could have a missile do all the work for you.
Kodiak gave Carmel a tap on the arm and pointed to a spot near a large rock. Without delay he made his way over to take cover. Carmel was about to join him when he noticed a lot of the men along the line weren't doing the same. Seeing the gatekeeper he’d argued with earlier, he called out. “Hey! Tell your men to take cover.”
Comprehension seemed to grip him as he looked up and down the line, and a sudden order had everyone scurrying to for safety.
The descending torches accelerated, splashing their light over rock and tree. The noise of footsteps rumbled down with them, kicking up shale and setting a chattering noise echoing around the valley. The faces of the men holding the torches became more prominent, with the murky outlines of other shadowy figures dancing at the edge of their light.
Carmel and Kodiak held their blades close as they leaned against their rock, peering over its edge to watch the approaching threat. There wasn't a word exchanged between them, there wasn't really time.
There came a host of screams from the night. The men of the town returned the noise with a yell of their own. The two pools of torchlight met and blended into one. From the descending hillside, face after face rushed forward out of the darkness. The men of the line stood their ground ready to meet them, only to be hailed with a volley of primitive missiles. Rocks and sharpened steaks crashed down, pelting the slow or unaware, and sending the rest scrabbling back behind cover. The offenders rushed forward into the openings and forced their way over, or through the weak boundary line.
The towns archers, watching from the relative safety of the back, saw their opportunity and fired according to each mans will. A hail of missiles sprung forward to meet the attackers, stopping or slowing the odd man here or there in their advance. The front line mobilized as the two forces mixed, and all up and down the line a murderous clamour of screeching men and bloody combat erupted.
Carmel and Kodiak avoided the worst of the opening engagement by keeping low and tight behind their rock. One only needed to look at the other to know they’d been in similar situations before, and patience was their greatest ally. As the enemy approached they exchanged a single, knowing nod.
“Watch my back,” Carmel said.
“You watch mine!”
A screaming man vaulted the beam beside Kodiak and looked around angrily for someone to assault. The Bear sprang out catching the man unaware from the side, tackling him to the ground. Kodiak sent thrust after thrust of his blade into the mans flank. The screech turned to a brief cry of pain that quickly failed to contend with the noise of sloshing meat and cracking bone.
On the other side of the rock, Carmel rolled out to face his enemy but was surprised to find it a woman. More surprising was the fact she was unarmed and wearing a common gown. He stayed his blade, confused at the sight, and unsure of what to do. Her face twisted in rage and she screamed. Seeing the opportunity she lunged but Carmel reacted on instinct and leveled a solid blow from her fist to her temple. She went down in a crumpled heap.
The Wilderman stepped away in search of the next foe. Kodiak was still busy recovering from the ground while another enemy came clamoring over the boundary. Carmel stepped in the way, staying the mans club carrying hand with his own and thrusting his blade into his chest. He fell before he could clear the line.
Beyond it the attackers were splitting left and right to the points of least resistance- gaps in the line where men had fallen, or there hadn't been anyone to begin with. Carmel took a moment to assess the situation, and more specifically the attackers.
By all appearances they were common folk just like the ones Mathias had described. They were poorly armed, and casually dressed for the occasion. Stranger yet was the number of women amongst their number. All seemed blindly determined to charge headlong into battle, to kill and to die, without much sense in it one way or the other. Worst was the fanatical way in which they went about it. Screaming like banshees, faces all twisted up with the horror of hate. The nature of their eyes was vile, like a people possessed by some wanton spirit. Carmel had seen nothing like it, and didn't know what to make of it.
Kodiak appeared leaning on Carmel’s shoulder, his arm bloody up to the elbow. “There,” he pointed with his sword. The two looked to the rear of the enemy where the hill was clear of rushing attackers. One individual stood with a small contingent of guards, all garbed in the familiar colours of the Yos. They were far from the fighting, casual observers by all appearances, and while Carmel considered it there was no feasible way to reach them right now.
“Come on, there’s work to be done.” Kodiak gave Carmel a pat on the chest and broke off to charge down the line. Carmel, with his brow set in a hard line, pulled off to follow.
(Continue to Ep.14)
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