The Song and the Serpent

“Undelmans scouts!” Arfon shouted as he rode up the hill.

Kian had sent him to the gate the moment the horn blast sounded.

“Calden ordered the horn when he saw them,” Arfon explained, riding up to where Kian, Adan, Hurst, Hammund, and Corthenu sat astride their mouths.

“What did they do?” Corthenu asked.

“They stood by the tree line and then rode back into the woods when the horn sounded,” Arfon replied.

“Reporting back to their leader,” Corthenu said. “I wonder how they will respond.”

The silent moments continued to crawl by, as they waited for the coming army. A stillness lay over the empty fields and huts of the city, as if the fortress had already been long abandoned.

Adan looked out over the city and noticed one point of movement. The figure of a long man walking toward them caught his attention. The man came from the northern part of the fortress, near the Othelli camp, and walked straight toward the hill where they sat.

When the man reached the base of the hill, Adan recognized him as Kellessed, the Othelli blacksmith, approaching with a long thin bundle laying across his shoulders.

“Hail, Lord Kian,” Kellessed said as he drew near. “I have a grievance with you.”

Kian cocked an eyebrow as he looked down on Kellessed, who came to stand in front of them, facing Kian.

”A grievance?”

“That is what I said, yes. ’A grievance,’” Kellessed replied. “I don’t know why you always feel the need to repeat the things I say, I thought I was quite clear the first time.”

Kian shifted in his saddle. ”Is that your grievance?”

“Not the one I came to discuss with you, although if it continues I may take issue with it in the future.”

“Then what is your grievance?”

Kellessed pointed at Kian’s left hip. “That.”

Adan looked and saw the curved scimitar dangling from Kian’s belt.

”My sword?” Kian asked.

“Not your sword,” Kellessed replied. “That is the problem. That is not the sword of the Lord of New Esta, is it? It is the blade of an Undelman.”

Kellessed began unwrapping the bundle he had carried across his shoulders, revealing a hand-and-a-half sword, straight and double-edged. He held the sword flat on his palms and lifted it for Kian to see. The steel blade had a black leather handle and gold pommel and cross-guard, the arms of which curved at the ends. A black leather sheath lay in the cloth bundle beside it.

“This is your sword,” Kellessed said.

Kian dismounted from Havoc and walked around to view the blade.

“I cannot stomach the thought of you bearing one of the enemy’s blades,” the blacksmith said. “I understand why we must use some of the enemy's weapons, but you should have a blade worthy of your station.”

Kian grasped the hilt of the sword and held it up. He balanced it on two fingers before flipping it up in the air and catching it by the handle.

“It is more than worthy of my station,” Kian said, as he swung the blade through the air. “Thank you, Kellessed.”

The black smith nodded and began to pass the sheath to Kian.

“Keep it,” Kian said, putting a hand out to stop Kellessed. “I will not have need of it until the battle is over, for I will not sheath this blade until the city is safe and we have won victory over the Undelmans.”

Kellessed nodded, keeping the sheath in the bundle and putting his fist to his chest in salute. Kian removed the scimitar from his belt and handed it to the black smith, asking him to find another bearer for the sword.

When Kian had remounted Havoc and Kellessed had begun his descent, Adan leaned over and examined the sword.

“Well,” he said, “what are you going to name it?”

Kian looked at him for a moment before looking back at his new blade. ”This sword hasn’t seen battle yet. A sword name should come from the deeds it does in battle.”

He placed the sword flat across Havoc’s back and their attention turned west again.

The red light of evening had faded and a silver moon had begun to shine over the ridge line behind them when Adan saw a flicker of faint light on the western rim of the basin. The small pointed of orange light was quickly joined by multiple others, until the western tree line was peppered with flickering lights.

“Torches,” Kian said, gesturing at the ridge.

Adan nodded.

The horizontal line of lights expanded outwards as more and more torch bearers stepped from the treeline, until the ridge of the basin to the north and south was illuminated by the enemy. The line of the torches continued behind them, and Adan craned his next to see lights appearing behind them on the eastern ridge.

A great shout went up from the forest as the circle of torches surrounded New Esta. The roar of the Undelman army broke the prolonged silence, washing over the fortress like a great wave.

Adan tightened his grip on his sword as he heard it. Maker help us, he thought.

A tight group of torches, no more than six, broke from the west line and began making their steady way down the hill. Adan couldn’t be sure in the darkness, but it looked as if a company of men had detached from the main force and rode toward the gate.

“I think they may want a parley,” Arfon said when he saw it.

“If so,” Hurst said. “It is only fitting that the Lord of the City be there to greet them.”

Kian nodded. “Hurst and Adan, come with me. The rest of you stay here.”

Kian galloped down the hill, followed by Adan and Hurst. Adan enjoyed the exhilaration of flying on Havoc’s back through the moonlit field, releasing some of the pent up energy that had accumulated in his body over the afternoon.

When they reached the gatehouse, the garrison of warriors parted and allowed Adan and Kian to approach the archway. The door that led to the upper level of the gatehouse sat open and Calden stood in the entrance, watching them approach.

“They wish to speak with our leader,” Calden said when they finally reached him.

Kian nodded and the three of them dismounted and followed Calden through the doorway and up two flights of stairs to the battlements above the gate.

More warriors bearing torches parted to allow Kian to walk toward the edge of the parapet and look down on the waiting enemy.

“Where is your leader?” A deep, familiar voice shouted.

Adan’s body went cold when he heard it, and his heart began to pound. He could never forget that voice.

Kian stepped forward, taking a torch from a nearby warrior and revealing himself by its light. Adan walked up beside him and looked down to see eight mounted warriors waiting below. Flickering, orange light glimmered on their spiked helmets. All of their faces were hidden behind the customary cloth mask, all of them except one.

“Hugo,” Kian growled, gritting his teeth.

The commander of the Undelman army sat in the center of the company astride a horse the color of midnight.

Whispers immediately filled the battlements as the warriors standing nearby heard him. “Commander Hugo himself is here,” they said.

Why is he here? Adan wondered. Why isn’t he leading the attack on Allgor, or the capital?

Adan looked up at the ring of torches surrounding the city. How big was the Undelmans army that encircled them? The rider had said more than five-thousand, but how many more?

Adan’s grip on his scimitar tightened as he looked down on the hooked nosed-commander. Memories flashed through his mind, images of the attack at sea, the darkness of the hull of Hugo’s ship, the sound of

“Do remember me, you bastard?”

Hugo looked up at Kian and if he was surprised, he hid it well. His hard, uncovered face remained expressionless in the firelight.

“You're the Desecrator,” he replied.

“Yes,” Kian said. “Remember when we defiled your temple and escaped your foul city?”

Hugo didn’t answer, but his lip curled in anger as Kian spoke.

“We released your pet in the Coralyd too and killed your precious priests, in case you forgot. And now the Maker has brought you here, in his goodness, so I can kill you.”

Hugo snorted, but he didn’t reply.

“Say whatever it is you came to say, you murderer,” Kian said. “And be quick about it. I see little reason to prevent the archers from firing on you where you stand.”

The men around Hugo shifted uncomfortably, eyeing the walls above them, but Hugo remained still, staring at Kian.

“Well?” Kian demanded.

Hugo sighed. “We will grant quarter to anyone who surrenders, anyone except the desecrators.” Hugo pointed at Kian and Adan. “They must perish for their blasphemy of the One. Turn them over to us, and your lives will be spared.”

“That’s funny,” Kian said with a laugh. “I seem to recall you making me the same offer not long ago. Their lives will be spared… for now. But we know what happens to Undelman slaves. Is that all?”

Hugo paused before nodding slowly.

Kian nodded before looking at the warriors on either side of him.

“Let fly!” he roared, pointing his sword down at Hugo.

Bowstrings twanged. The Undelman warriors gave a cry and lifted shields in the air.

“Back!” Hugo shouted, catching three arrows on his own shield and turning his mount around.

The warriors followed his lead, wheeling their steeds and galloping back up the hill, holding their shields behind them in an attempt to block the projectiles flying at them. Despite their best efforts, three of the warriors with Hugo never returned to the waiting army.

“That’s right!” Kian shouted, “run away you maggot-ridden meatheads!”

The warriors on the battlements shouted as they saw Hugo riding away. Others in the fortress joined in and the fortress rang with the defiant cries of Estan warriors.

When Hugo and his men were too far to shoot and the archers ceased firing, Kian turned around and let out a deep sigh. “That felt good. Now back to the hill.”

They descended the steps and remounted their steeds, riding back to the hilltop where the others waited.

“What happened?” Corthenu asked as they rode up the hill.

“Hugo is here,” Kian answered.

“Hugo?” Arfon asked, stepping forward and gripping the handle of his double bladed axe.

“Yes. He wanted to offer quarter to anyone who surrendered, anyone but Adan and myself. They want us dead for what we did at their temple. So if any of you want to surrender and hand us over, now’s your chance.”

“That’s good to know,” Corthenu replied. “How did you respond?”

“I had the archers fire on him. He escaped of course, but it was worth a few arrows to see him trying to get away.”

“Hopefully we get a better chance to finish the job soon,” Arfon said.

Shouts began to ring out along the walls.

“Very soon, I think,” Corthenu replied, pointing west.

The line of torches had begun to descend the hill into the basin and more flickering lights began to appear behind them as more warriors emerged from the forest. Adan looked around and saw the same signs on the north, east, and southern slopes.

The Undelman’s were making their approach. The battle for New Esta had begun.

They watched from the hilltop as the circle of lights closed in around them, tightening like a hangman’s noose.

“Last chance to surrender,” Kian said.

“I don’t fancy having a first hand tour of Sithril’s Temple,” Corthenu replied.

“Nor do I,” Hurst added.

Kian nodded. “Your choice.”

Adan watched as the Undelman warriors filtered around the barricades blocking the weak points in the wall. Shouts from the Othelli captains echoed across the city as the enemy came close enough to shoot. Adan couldn’t hear the bowstrings twang, or the flight of the arrows, but he heard the cries and screams of the Undelman’s who were hit.

Adan watched for many tense moments, turning from side to side in his saddle in an attempt to see what was going on.

The first ladder appeared by the front gate.

Adan watched as it was lifted and leaned against the wall. The nearby Estan warriors hastily pushed it away, but it fell back against the wall. Adan watched as the Estan’s by the ladder cried out and fell to the ground, arrows protruding from their torsos. The Undelman’s had archers as well, and they would protect the ladders to allow their men to scale the wall.

Within moments, more than ten ladders had been raised in different places. The first Undelman warriors began to appear over the wall; tall, hulking men who carried long, sweeping scimitars with thick ends made for slashing and hacking.

“Release!” Adan heard Arfon shout from his left.

Adan looked over just in time to see Arfon’s men pull the mechanism that fired the trebuchet. The heavy end of the catapult’s arm flew downward, sending the opposite end up into the air and releasing a large stone. Adan watched with an open mouth as the small boulder hurtled upward and past the wall. Adan lost sight of the projectile in the night sky, but a loud crash from the treeline atop the ridge followed by shouts of alarm told them where the stone had fallen.

“Very good!” Kian said. “Keep sending those.”

“I’m trying to hit near where Hugo might be,” Arfon said before ordering his men to shift the trebuchet’s position and retract the arm.

“As long as you create some confusion and fear among their ranks,” Kian said, “and kill a few of them at the same time.”

By the time Arfon had sent five more stones into the enemy’s ranks, the sound of ringing metal came to their ears. The Undelmans had climbed over a dozen ladders and were now trying to push the defenders back along the wall to allow more of their number into the city. Adan had difficulty seeing the state of affairs, despite a bright moon and hundreds of torches along the walls.

A horn sounded from the north wall. One of the Othelli leaders was sending a distress signal, asking for reinforcements.

“Corthenu!” Kian shouted. “Send two of your captains over there with their companies.”

“Yes, milord!” Corthenu replied before riding down the hill to the reserves.

Adan strained to see the northern wall to spot where the distress signal had come from. He could make out very little in the darkness, but he knew Corthen’s men would be able to find the place and reinforce their brethren.

“Why is he here?” Kian shouted over the mayhem.

Adan turned to look at Kian. “What? Who?”

“Hugo,” Kian replied. “Why is he here?”

“What do you mean?” Adan asked.

Kian looked back out toward the gate. “I mean Hugo and this army. Why did they choose to come here?”

Adan shrugged. “How should I know?”

“I just keep asking myself why he would turn aside from Allgor and Threcalax to deal with our little force. And how did he know we were here?”

“I don’t know how he knew,” Adan admitted. “Maybe some Undelman’s got past us during the battle three nights ago. Maybe he wants to make sure he isn’t vulnerable in the northeast and wants to conquer us before going to the capital.”

Kian shook his head. “No, that can’t be. There wasn’t enough time for the men we fought to have told him about us. This army would have to travel from Farel for many days to reach here in time. And did you see his face when he saw us? He didn’t seem surprised at all.”

Adan thought back to Hugo’s behavior at the gate. Kian was right. This attack did not make any sense.

“You think he already knew we were here?” Adan asked.

“Maybe, but how?”

“He knew,” Hurst cut in.

Adan and Kian turned to look at the Chief Bard. The older man’s face was grim, gazing at the tree line beyond the gate.

“Are you certain?” Kian asked.

Hurst nodded. “The Undelman’s must have known we were here. It’s the only way to explain their presence.”

”Do you think we have been betrayed then?” Kian asked.

Hurst shook his head. “No. There’s a far more likely explanation.”

”And that is?”

Hurst looked at Kian for a moment before turning his gaze back to the tree line.

“That the Undelmans have found some way of seeing things far off, and knowing things that they should not know, things that only some other entity could tell them.”