Chapter 10 . The Ravens Join the War.
“How do you fare Benedict?” asked Demetri has he held Benedict’s hand. Benedict lay motionless and wounded in the thigh. Three days of fever and the best medicine that they could offer had been used to restore Benedict’s health and bring back the full strength of his hopeful young body.
Demetri could not bear to lose another friend and knight. Down to the ground had fallen Soldar, Gainwise, Treborey, Kingly and Alexander, all brave knights and bosom friends since birth. They had been buried close by to the battle grounds in the north of the Ryne Lands. The sacred lands were smeared with blood and Lord Ivy was not yet vanquished.
Ivy had managed to cut off the trade from The Reedland Rides by blocking their sea routes, little by little he had persuaded their lords to come and fight with him, swelling his numbers and creating an uneven advantage over The Kings.
The lack of success against this scheming enemy was not just because of their lack of men and strategy, they had courage enough. The attacking armies used unconventional surprise attacks, they used the ugly, monstrous beasts of Screefell, beaten into submission by dark hearted Dwarves and magic. The dwarves would do anything for money and Lord Ivy offered hollow promises of riches and power. The beasts, when unleashed, could destroy a battalion in a day and over and over again new fighters were needed and marched swiftly from the castles of King Sorre, King Mallus and King Alchemela. The Grimsanders did not stay tame and under control for long, as soon as the dwarves had lost their power over them they released them into The Highland path much to the trepidation of the hermits who lived there. It had now become a very dangerous place for all to cross not just because of the inhospitable terrain but because old Grimsanders now roamed looking for a meal. Magic had never been used in warfare in Grieglands ever before, but this was a new type of war and had no rules or boundaries. King Alchemela’s army would be charging towards the enemy one day at break of dawn only to discover a great pit had opened up before them glowing with a green and sickly stench, before they knew it many knights had perished by falling to their death. Where magic was used they could not use their conventional fighting techniques. On one winter’s morn King Sorre had tried to ambush the enemy from behind a woodland but fire-beasts had been used to cause a great blaze and Sorre’s men had to retreat, then before long there was no precious woodland. King Mallus had also lost many soldiers when Ivy had sent a Purple Wizard to infiltrate the battalion and poison the water supply . Before the men could saddle up and ride they were dropping in agony to the ground and all were buried beside the ancient stone of The Highland Gate.
Lord Ivy’s armies comprised of separate bands of mercenaries who had reluctantly joined together. They were hard, brutal fighters, often massive men who’d spent a hard life at sea. They feared nothing and raged amongst the knights fighting hard and dirty. At the slightest sign of drunken or jealous trouble they split off and tried to win their own erratic battles against the true kings. They huddled, plotted and schemed, they mistakenly thought that if they were the toughest band who could kill one of the Kings in battle then they would be victorious and win the favour of Lord Ivy. How wrong they were. Lord Ivy had never shared anything in his life, even as a child he would have a boy whipped by his father’s groom if the boy had beaten him at wooden sword play. He was wholly selfish, he had never spoken a kind word in his life. He had sorely hurt women and their distressed parents and had taken more than one wife in his ugly life, he’d cast them aside for his next favourite and would coax and trick the next maiden by lying and cooing as a fake lover, then as soon as they married him they were treated like servants. None had borne him children and this caused him great shame.
In amongst all of this Lord Ivy lost even more respect from his beleaguered people. They had not dared to speak out while Ivy was at his dark and mouldy tower for fear of redress, but now that his Lords and Barons were many miles away they began to talk quietly and furtively about their pitiful state; many hoped that the Kings would win the war in order to restore their lands to prosperity and peace. There were many spies in Screefell so it was not worth being caught for gossiping, a few nasty Sheriffs would have happily strung them up and recorded their dishonourable deaths in the records, again in hopes of being rewarded by Ivy. Lord Ivy had made many promises before he went to war and the stupid Sheriffs were led by their greed. It took only one peasant to be killed and shamed in his town to put terror in the hearts of all the families so on the face of it they pretended to be loyal. In private they hated him for his cruel rules, taxes and punishments. In their hearts they wished him dead and prayed that the next ruler would not be in his likeness. Families were exhausted, they were poor, hungry and dismayed about their unhappy children. Once upon a time the land had been merry with the sound of happy children laughing and playing in the villages and fields, but now the youngsters played quietly close to home in case they became embroiled in the hasty punishments of the sheriffs. The Kings were doing all they could to rid Greiglands of this tyrant but at times the situation seemed utterly hopeless.
“ Friend,” said Benedict and Demetri looked closely at him and smiled broadly.
“Is this life?” he continued.
“Do I see my dear friend or am I transported to the stars and live forever in the dust of space and time?”
“No dear Benedict, it is I, you are alive it is true! You had a mighty wound in your leg but a mere scratch for a knight like you! Come now, I’ll sit you up and you shall drink with me.”
Demetri raised his friend up upon the hard pillows, he made him as comfortable as possible and placed a goblet of strong red berry wine in his hand. Slowly Benedict raised this to his parched lips and delighted as the wine revived him.
That very evening Benedict was well enough to receive the others. Honeybee and Lilliana had joined the battle after their great transformation. The Raven Warriors had fought valiantly and skilfully alongside the men and came into the tent as grubby as all the other soldiers.
“You are a fine sight for my very sore eyes Benedict you dog! What did you think you were doing causing us such worry?”, said Honeybee as she kissed him on the forehead and smoothed his hair.
“Our women folk are fed and settled Honeybee, we can rest now,” said Lilliana, as battered and dirty as her friend.
They threw themselves exhausted to the ground around Benedict’s bedside and ate, drank and soothed him. They planned the next day’s campaign and bade them goodnight before they half fell into their tent to sleep.
“Thank god,” she said as Honeybee collapsed exhausted on to her camp bed.
“Nearly four years of war and we still have not captured that brute. Let the morrow bring us more luck Lilliana for our armies are weary, tomorrow we must rouse them to a final push and end the petulant Ivy’s reign of terror. But how, we know not how.”
“Yes, we must………,” but Lilliana was already asleep.
When the next night arrived all four were kept awake by the bright moon and decided to wander to the Shrine.
The Temple at night was a beautiful and serene place. Not too far from the battle ground encampment in one of the small valleys was the suggestion of a cave. Beside this was a craggy rock face. Hung around the little well pool were feathers, ribbons, a tooth, small mammal’s skulls, sheep’s wool, pieces of cloth, parts of broken chain mail, broken knives and other unique items placed there by hopeful people who laid their souls’ bare and asked the deities for good fortune. Images of the deities were scratched into small carvings on the rock face, the birds (the barometers of nature), the trees, stars, planets and the Great Oneness, Greta-Rosetta the All-Seeing. Although the hill cast a midnight shadow over the temple it was lit by wide bright candles that were always kept alight, always with the hope of love and good fortune from nature and the stars.
Only a few steps away the dusty clearing was lit by bright moonlight, there was a huge wolf-moon and the stars in the heavens shone down upon Demetri, Lilliana, Benedict and Honeybee after another long and terrifying day in battle.
“Thank Greta it’s such a moonlight night. Ivy won’t try any of his sneaky tricks with an orb so bright in the sky. The scouts are out but I doubt they’ll see any activity tonight,” said Demetri.
“I weary of this war!” exclaimed Benedict. “ How Ivy managed to survive this long I don’t know. What possessed the ignorant Lords of The Reedland Rides to join him I know not! Four years ago they would not have even negotiated with him, but in his trickery he has starved them out and cut off their trade through The Long Sea. He’s more clever than I first allowed.”
“Not so,” said Honeybee, “This is not wisdom, he just knows how to catch a mouse in a trap and make it beg! When we defeat the demon we shall teach those Reedlanders how things should be done. They’ll learn soon enough that Ivy never fulfils his promises and they’ll be begging for our forgiveness. They have been cornered into this position, they should have come to us for help.”
“That may be so,” replied Benedict, “But Ivy has managed to swell his numbers on the battle fields by his empty promises. We are up against it now and could do with more fighters on our side. Our knights and ladies are so tired and the newly trained ones coming from the realms can’t be thrown into the thick of it.”
Honeybee added, “Let’s study the charts again when we get back to camp. There may be more strategic ways to employ our forces and come at him from another side. I know no one wants to risk going in to the Highland Pass, for brigands and Grimsanders are no joke, but if we could cut him off from Screefell and his land he would then only have The Reedland Rides to run to. There’s no cover there, it’s all flat and marshes. The Lords may have fortified homesteads but they’re nothing that we couldn’t besiege. He hasn’t taken Golden Stronghill yet, that castle remains secure. He’s only got control below White Water Lake, in all he hasn’t made much progress from there in the past four years, taking a mile here, losing a mile there.”
“At least we’ve kept him confined to the battle field. The Reedlanders cannot approach from the west across The Great Cleft, their only chance to join Ivy’s band is to go north into Screefell itself and come south down The Pass as Ivy and his men did. He’s losing men back that way too because their purses are empty and like their bellies,” said Demetri.
“Come, let’s away to bed, we’ll rise early and study the charts before dawn. It’s time we shook up Ivy’s mercenaries and made them fear for their lives a bit more! Intimidation comes next!” Benedict caught Honeybee around the waist as they walked back to Honeybee’s private tent with one another, finally falling into her bed with the soft night breeze blowing her red pennant flag on the pole of the tent. Lilliana quietly eased into the Ravens’ tent, crept past Cecillia’s and Lady Clairmont’s bed and slid into her own. Demetri quaffed his wine and had time to say his nightly wish to the stars before he fell into sleep.
“Stars, if you hear me, if you see me, shine on my love as you shine on me.” This he had muttered thousands of times as they were now into the fourth year of war with no immediate end in sight.
The next morning Lilliana proposed her plan . She would blow the horn and summon The Raven Claws, the elite fighting force of The Raven Warriors. She would ride out very early and call them from the east bank of White Water sheltered by the small woodland that grew there. No sooner than she had fallen asleep than The Duchess of The Dawn woke her. They set off and were soon approaching the lake. It was clear that Lord Ivy’s camp was a ragged affair. Who knows how he managed to organize his troops, no wonder this vagabond army had to use magic, they were in no shape for a fair fight. Smouldering fires were burning with ominous smoke gushing from them, these were enchanted fires and the bent old men in rags around them were mages of evil. Lilliana and the Duchess assessed the scene and withdrew behind the woodland cover to a low lying field where the Raven Claws may not have been easily seen. Lilliana blew heartily on her magic horn and in a great grey mist came, it swirled and rose and spiralled. A wind spun as dark black clouds above cast down terrifying thunder and tremendous rain which as soon as it came disappeared. It left the ground hazy with a pale blue mist rising from the field on which an enormous army of Raven Crow Warriors appeared.
The Duchess of the Dawn stepped back with trepidation.
“Fear not,” said Lilliana “These mighty warriors are the most magical and fearsome women you shall ever see. They are only called in times of extreme emergency and now is the time to quell the beast forever. They will unleash hell upon the enemy and bring an end to this war. See, The Kings troops advance from the south. Let us hasten to join the Crows.”
No battle was ever seen like this. As The King’s troops reared up in a final blast of heroic power, The Crows piled in from the north and east. They decimated the camp and slaughtered any within their path. They poured magic into their blows, it was time to raise the dark powers in the cause of good. They never killed without a reason and here were four realms that had been under grievous pain for four long years. Now it had to end. They came when called but they only fought when necessary. The Kings’ armies were spurred on by the might and majesty of the Crows, Honeybee’s Raven Warriors were proud to fight alongside them. A long, hard, dirty day of battle commenced and ended in complete victory for King Alchemela, King Sorre, King Mallus, The Ravens and The Crows.
Finally Lord Ivy’s ragged army had been worn down by poor rations and no pay. Some had deserted and headed back up through the Highland Pass to try their luck against the roaming Grimsanders. Anything was better than starving under Ivy’s command. They’d be better off starving at home with their poor families in Screefell.
It goes without saying that the last battle was nothing but grim, more soldiers were lost on both sides. Eventually Ivy was sought out from his cowardly retreat in a secret cave. After being sorely condemned by the Kings and the good knights he was taken under strong guard back to Screefell. He would be forced to pledge allegiance to the Kings of Grieglands and never gather armies or try to rule Screefell again. He would be allowed limited freedom if he remained in the governing city to work for his new masters and would not be allowed out of the walls. Despite his moaning and lack of gratitude at this splendid offer he reluctantly accepted as after all he would still have his life and be fed and watered.
The Kings decided that the best choice for the new leader of Screefell was Lady Clairmonte who had fought bravely and had learnt the arts of governing when she had been to The University in her youth. What a fine job she made of this. Screefell became a happy land, with food produced in the old fashioned and proper way. The people returned to their former joyful selves, they developed many trades and became prosperous. The dwarves were banned from using dark magic and instead used their skills to build and create plenty of new towns and villages , after all they were very good miners and skilled stone and slate cutters. The Lords and Barons had been angry at first but once they could see that fairness and loyalty earned them respect and more money than Ivy had been prepared to part with, they became content and were eventually worthy of being in the service of Lady Clairmonte. The Reedlanders were restored to their own lands and governed properly by Lady Clairmonte’s cousin, Lord Lian, they too became a happy people and could use their trade routes in The Long Sea once more.
“ And so Demetri, we accompany you on your next quest as we never cease in our goal to find and return Princess Genia to your side,” declared Honeybee.
“It pleases me greatly that I have such steadfast companions. We ride together for the sake of my one true love, may we go forth bravely and greet each challenge as it appears. I hope for us all, and most of all for Genia that we do this as fast as the deities allow us.”
So it was that Lilliana, Demetri, Benedict and Honeybee cantered off with their saddle bags full and eyes open to the new and now peaceful land. The Kings had departed back to their realms to re-join their Queens and rule their estates. Nature cried in one uplifting chorus as the blood-shed had ceased. The animals returned to their homes, both small as a shrew and as large as a sea-eagle. There was harmony in nature again at last. The earth had begun to breathe again, crops flourished and barley waved in the breeze, fields of sunflowers held their yellow heads high and long grass was being cut as the summer drew to a close. Lavender scented the air for miles around and grapes grew in abundance upon the hillsides. Every farm had a warm and hearty welcome for the riders where they shared their tales and ate well as the farmers’ guests. They often helped them in payment for their generosity whilst they were there and tried to discover everything they could about the local areas.
Although the four had relaxed a great deal since the end of the war and their battle scars had healed, they always had one ear listening for danger. This was because they were slightly older and much wiser now. They could still enjoy their youthful abandon but had old heads on young shoulders. No one could have guessed how wise they had become to look at their fresh faces as they rode along with their harness bells jingling, they sang and laughed and the ladies put flowers in their flowing hair. Birds followed them in the woods and fish swam with them in the gleaming rivers. They would camp on mossy knolls protected by coppiced trees and eat delicious fare around their campfire at night. They slept under the diamond stars while the weather remained warm enough and often as not Honeybee would snuggle up with Benedict under their warm sheepskins. Life felt very good, until they remembered that Genia was not amongst their number. Each one would cast their eyes to a distant star before they went to sleep and say,
“Star light, star bright, hold the hand of Genia tonight.” Perhaps Genia, in her distant universe, would feel slightly warmer in her tired old heart that night.
