A Ranger From Adamnar

Alana pulled her bow string back for the hundredth time and felled the hundredth T’Rundi. A nonstop shower of arrows came from the north wall of Adamnar across the open plain to the north and into the sea of approaching monsters. Many fell but so many more ran over the dead. Always there were more arrows. Other Rangers brought them. She didn’t even have to think, just shoot. There was always one more arrow to fire and always one more T’Rundi to fire upon. The sounds of the two hundred bows firing without pause was completely drowned out by the thunder and driving wind.

When a Ranger could no longer draw his or her bow, they handed it to another who stepped up to the edge of north wall and began firing as quickly as they could. Some care had to be taken while firing, but not too much. It was hard to miss when you couldn’t see the ground through the swarming enemy. They came out of the trees like black water flowing around them. There was no way to know how many died in the traps in the forest.

Alana fired on. Four Rangers brought her arrows and soon a fifth joined them just to keep up. All the rest of Ben’s group had already been spelled. Ben was the last. He just stared at Alana open mouthed in the downpour. She didn’t turn to look at him. She saw only the next T’Rundi. It seemed to her to take forever for the T’Rundi to cross that open field. For an instant she thought she was carving enough of them down to make a dent in the line, but only right in front of her.

Then Lord Crenda was beside her and trying to keep up. At first he fired his bow just as accurately but not as quickly. Soon though, he caught up and Alana felt an energy flow between them that seemed both foreign and familiar. She glanced over at him and when their eyes met, she knew he must have felt it as well, judging by his puzzled frown. Then he shrugged, winked at her and turned his attention back to the battle. Alana heard the shouts from other Rangers around her and Lord Crenda to keep firing and stop watching them. Was that Lord Ejrin shouting? She couldn’t be sure. Just keep firing, Alana thought, as long as there are arrows and T’Rundi to catch them.

And they just kept coming. When the lightning flashed it illuminated a sea of rolling hate, shapeless and unstoppable. She could see that they were closing on the wall far to the left and right of her and Lord Crenda. She had no idea how many arrows she had fired or how long the arrows could possibly keep coming. On most of the north wall, though, it no longer mattered.

Ladders were raised on the outside of the wall. They were knocked off. More ladders took their place. Alana reached down and found no more arrows. She dropped her bow on the wall walk behind a merlon, knelt in the embrasure briefly to catch her breath, and drew her sword and the Novadi dagger. The T’Rundi were farthest away right at this point. The deafening clash of steel challenged the thunder for supremacy. Alana looked once to her right and Ben was there. On her left was Lord Crenda, with long sword and short sword drawn. In front of her were two other Rangers who would throw any T’Rundi who made it onto the wall and behind the front line, off the wall to the courtyard thirty feet below. One of them looked very scared. Alana didn’t recognize him. All of Ben’s patrol was first up on this section of wall. All would be first to meet the T’Rundi when they came.

Alana jumped up from behind the merlon, turned quickly into the crenel and cut a T’Rundi in half. She kicked the lower half off the top of the ladder, plunged her dagger into the neck of the T’Rundi who took his place, and hit him with her sword fist to knock him off the ladder as well. But they didn’t just come at her from the crenel. They came over the top of the merlons as well. She fought three to five of them at a time, always being mindful to damage the ladder whenever she got a clear swing at it.

For those that jumped onto the wall walk beside her, she stabbed them in the midsection and pushed them quickly towards the Rangers waiting on the inner edge to throw them away. More than one Ranger fell fighting next to her. She couldn’t even stop to see who was carrying them away, but Rangers kept the walkway clear. In other places on the wall, far away to the left and right, the T’Rundi were gaining more of a foothold. Here, Alana and Lord Crenda held the ground without wavering.

It took a while for the Rangers to start pouring into the dining hall. Bruny, his two assistant priests and most of the administrative staff were there. Rangers brought in their fallen comrades with little time enough to bring them further than the door. At first, when the tide of Rangers was slow, four or five helpers brought the bodies in and laid them down in preparation for healing. There would be no resurrecting. There just wasn’t time. The dead would have to wait their turn, and that probably meant until after the battle was over. Lord Lof Vonas himself had stopped by to assure Bruny more Priests would be coming. So far none had shown up. All the available teleport-capable Ranger Lords just brought in more Ranger Lords. The healing, it seemed, would take a slower route.

When the Rangers first began to trickle in to the great hall, Bruny and his healers were enough to patch them up. Broken bones repaired. Missing fingers reattached. Excessive blood loss replenished. The last was quite taxing and Bruny knew quite well they wouldn’t be able to keep that one up for much longer.

As the flow of Rangers increased, Bruny found it more and more difficult to heal and run the healing operation. He yelled over to whom he guessed was probably the most competent clerk, a young man with bright red hair. “You there, come over here, now.”

The young man limped over to him. “Yes, Brother Bruny?”

Bruny frowned slightly. “Aren’t you Lord Vistor’s assistant?

“Yes, Brother Bruny,” he replied.

“I need you to take over this mess,” Bruny said, “so I can concentrate on healing.”

“I don’t understand,” he said. He looked to Bruny like he was right about to lose his composure. So many twisted and broken bodies, and these were just the ones who could be saved.

“Wait,” Bruny said to the clerk. He finished mending a Ranger’s forearm, which had been nearly cut off. The Ranger looked ashen, worse than most. “Lay here for a moment. Catch your breath. You arm is whole, but you’ve lost a lot of blood. You might want to stop by the chow tent if it is still up and drink before going back.”

When the Ranger nodded, Bruny smiled at him, stood, and turned to face the clerk. “What’s your name again?” Bruny asked.

“Ferris,” he said still looking at the arm of the Ranger.

“Ferris,” Bruny said softly. He smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. “All I need you to do is separate the wounded by severity and keep the main door clear. Don’t let the wounded pile up at the front door. Can you do this?”

“I…I think so,” Ferris said.

“You’ll do fine,” Bruny said. He placed his left hand on Ferris’s chest and said, “Blessed Asaeria protect this man and give him the strength to do your will.”

Ferris brightened visibly upon receiving the blessing. “I won’t let you down Brother Bruny,” he said.

“I know you won’t,” Bruny replied. He walked over to the next Ranger, who had a deep sword wound in his belly and looked white as a sheet. Ferris stared at him for a moment longer then turned to take in the entire dining hall.

“All right,” Ferris shouted above the cries and moans of the wounded, “I want lightly wounded on this wall and heavily wounded on this wall. You there,” he shouted over towards the front door. “Keep that doorway clear. Every Ranger gets a place to lay down in here and that means the front door stays clear.”

Bruny paused a moment in healing the Ranger before him to look at Ferris. He smiled a brief, proud smile and then got back to repairing the man beneath his hands.

Over the boom of thunder came the boom of the battering ram against north gate. The gate was solid steel six inches thick. The timbers that held it in place were three feet wide.

“All right you trainees, get out of here,” Waylan said. “Head back into the main courtyard and seek new instructions.” They all did as he said. Lord Ejrin walked up beside him, looked at him once and drew her swords. Waylan did the same. Behind them twenty Ranger Lords drew their swords in unison. North gate was coming down, but the gods help the first few hundred T’Rundi who walked through it. North Gate was only wide enough for about three or four T’Rundi across. It was south gate that would be the larger problem, as it was a full twenty feet wide. Waylan turned to face the assembled Lords who were all eagerly awaiting the breach. Behind him the timbers began to split.

“Most of you I taught,” Waylan shouted over the rain. “The rest of you were taught by my students. For four hundred years I have taught Rangers how to swing swords. Today you will swing them until you can’t lift your arms and you will swing them more. You will find the strength from somewhere, I don’t care where.” Lord Waylan raised his left-hand sword high above his head and shouted, “The steel of north gate will be replaced by Ranger steel!” A cheer rose above the rain and forty swords raised in answer.

The north gate blew apart and T’Rundi poured in. Lord Waylan waded into their midst. T’Rundi body parts flew in all directions. Those that got around Lord Waylan were met by Lord Ejrin and all the other lords. They had formed a three rank deep ring around the north gate breech. They pushed hard against the T’Rundi and their defenses held.

The outpost Rangers ran to within a mile or two of the stronghold and began to move stealthily, though such wasn’t really necessary in the torrential downpour, fierce wind and near continuous lightning and thunder. But they were Rangers, and that’s what Rangers did. It was hard, at first, to see the T’Rundi’s black bodies in the pre-dawn light.

Their task was to attack and run and attack again. They were to kill as many as they could without ever engaging the main force. The best possible outcome would be to have the T’Rundi split their forces. So the Rangers would continue to inflict casualties on them until the T’Rundi did just that or they ran out of T’Rundi.

Seven hundred Rangers could inflict a lot of casualties. When T’Rundi broke away from the push against the stronghold wall to chase the fleeing Rangers, many more Rangers waiting in ambush would cut them down. The goal was to cause the T’Rundi to become overextended. They would think they had enough to envelop the stronghold. Lord Tumenick smiled to himself. They would find themselves unexpectedly thin. He watched as his patrols harassed and slaughtered more and more T’Rundi. The hours dragged on. The T’Rundi began to spread out. The Rangers spread with them. He wondered if it would be enough.

Iliard shouted above the rain to Martea and Lucien, “If Adamnar falls, this will be where it happens.”

“We will hold the gate, Master Iliard,” Martea responded.

“Well, these Rangers ought to help,” Lucien said, pointing at the approaching forms of Lords Lof Vonas and Berol. Behind them came thirty other Ranger Lords.

Iliard nodded. “Good,” he said. “This should be enough to hold the gate.

Lord Lof Vonas asked Iliard, “What are your orders?”

“It’s pretty simple here Toran,” Iliard said. “Martea and Lucien and I will channel those T’Rundi who get past us into killing lines for you to clean up. Try to keep the back area clear so we have room to move.”

Lord Lof Vonas nodded. The deep boom of the battering rams began outside south gate. The doors were made of thick, heavy pieces of wood banded together with steel. The entryway was held shut by two huge timbers, one over the other, slotted into steel holders. All the Ranger Lords could do now was wait and hope the Rangers on the wall did their best to delay the breach as long as possible. The heavy downpour limited their options, but it also limited those of the T’Rundi. The battering rams were not on fire. The Rangers on south wall walk were very careful to fire their magically lit arrows into the T’Rundi only. Still, it would not hold long. Three battering rams struck the gate now and the Rangers on the wall said ten more were waiting at the far side of the fields to the south of the stronghold.

Boom came the rams again and again. Iliard looked around at the Ranger Lords waiting with him. There was no need to steady them. They were pure determination and patience. None were more so than Lord Berol. Iliard smiled slightly. If this battle didn’t make him realize he was meant to be a Novadi, nothing would. The green glow of Iliard’s sword lit the inner side of south gate. The gate creaked and the timbers split.

The first timber cracked and broke, then the second. The force of more than a hundred T’Rundi pushed hard against the door even as the rams pounded on. One ram got stuck in the widening gap. T’Rundi tried desperately to wriggle through the crack.

“They’re in an awful hurry,” Lucien said. He stood calmly with his long swords drawn.

“Battle will come to them soon enough,” Martea responded.

“I’m surprised they’re so eager to die,” Lucien said.

The last of the timbers cracked and broke apart. The large south gate doors opened further as the T’Rundi pushed against the splinters of the timbers still holding it together. Then even those gave way and the doors swung wide.

The motions of the three Novadi were no longer visible to the younger Rangers of the three patrols who stood behind and to the sides of the phalanx of Ranger Lords. Lords Lof Vonas and Berol were nearly as fast. The ground in front of south gate quickly became a quagmire of black bodies and very dark red blood as the three Novadi dismembered the T’Rundi as fast as they came through the gate. Very few indeed made it through to the Ranger Lords waiting for them. The green glow of the Jade Dragon was visible only in reflection. Iliard and his two Lieutenants were completely hidden from view.

“I hope they give us something to do,” Lord Lof Vonas joked to Lord Berol as he made quick work of one T’Rundi who managed to get through simply because he was thrown free of the charge by another T’Rundi torso. The greatest push of T’Rundi came through the gate. It crashed against the Novadi and the Lords like the sea against the rocks and failed.

Lord Chasimar stood in the bell tower with Lord Cartyet. She looked out over the stronghold. Rangers were engaged on all sides now. Waylan’s phalanx held north gate and contained the breech. Soon the bodies of the T’Rundi would seal the gate again. She turned to look at south Gate. It had just given way to the battering rams that attacked it. The Novadi did their best to contain the flow but the gate was clearly too wide. Every minute a few more T’Rundi got around them.

She yelled to the Ranger trainee runner standing next to her without looking at him, “Get more Rangers to that gate. Tell Herton to move Farnick’s and Wendell’s patrol over to there and stop those T’Rundi.”

“Yes, Lord Chasimar,” the trainee said as he turned quickly to run down the tower stairs.

“What are our reserves?” Lord Cartyet asked.

“Five more patrols, Lord Cartyet,” Laren said in response. She shifted nervously from foot to foot. She kept looking at north wall. The wedge of Rangers above and to the left of north gate held the T’Rundi at bay like a rock in the river, while the Ranger Lords below dammed the river.

“It’s about damned time those Priests got here,” Lord Cartyet said. Lord Chasimar, Laren and the four remaining trainees all turned to look down at the grounds in front of the Great Hall. Five high order Priests and Priestesses of Asaeria, and one Priest of Diasamon had arrived and were making their way to the dining hall.

Laren didn’t look long, though, and was quickly focused again on the happenings on north wall. Lord Chasimar looked at her and sighed. “Laren,” she said, “you can’t do any more good up here. We could sure use someone of your skill on north wall.”

“Yes Lord Chas…” Laren said. Her voice trailed off as she took the stairs down four at a time.

“Too bad for any T’Rundi that get between her and north wall walk,” Lord Cartyet said.

Laren ran across the courtyard from the bell tower towards the north wall. She dodged Rangers and the occasional T’Rundi who hadn’t died from the fall. When she reached the stairs to the east of north gate, she took them three at a time at first, but had to slow when she reached the fighting. She fought quickly, dispatching the T’Rundi as swiftly as she could. Always she kept turning to look at Alana who was just beyond Lord Crenda.

“Who is in charge here,” a fifth order Priest of Diasamon asked as he and the five other priests and priestesses entered the dining hall.

“I am,” said Ferris from the center of the room. He had just finished directing one scribe to go to Nessa in the kitchens and ask for all the linens she could spare for bandages. “Who are you?” Ferris asked the Priest.

“I am Bishop Amanfara from the temple of Diasamon in Relothere, Chief Priest…” the Priest began.

“Good,” Ferris cut him off. “Can you heal?”

Amanfara looked at him incredulously. “Who are you and which Priest is in charge of this place?”

Brother Bruny stood up from the Ranger who’s leg he had just reattached. His robes were covered in blood, nearly soaked through. He shouted down the great hall at them. “I am Chief Priest Bruny, head Priest of Adamnar stronghold and if you’re not here to heal, get out!”

Amanfara raised an eyebrow and responded, “I am a Priest of Diasamon. I am always here to heal.” He looked around at the dozens of Rangers in various states of distress and frowned slightly. “Where are the T’Rundi who need healing?”

Another of the Priests who came into the room brushed his way past Amanfara, probably hitting his shoulder a bit hard, and said, “Get out of my way wobbly knees, there’s Rangers of Asaeria here who need my attention.” He unbuckled the clasp of his cloak, unwrapped it from his shoulders, bent down and laid the fine purple silk on the shivering body of a particularly bloody Ranger.

“Let the T’Rundi heal themselves,” Ferris said. “All they have to do to avoid getting hurt is leave.” He turned his head to look briefly at another clerk who was sitting against a wall staring straight ahead, slack-jawed. He turned back to look at the Bishop again, pointed at the clerk and said, “He was a great help to me about an hour ago. Can you bring him back to us?”

All five of the remaining high order Priests and Priestesses moved at that last comment, spread out over the room and started to heal the wounded. Amanfara walked over to the clerk and knelt in front of him.

Bruny walked over to stand beside Ferris and followed his gaze to the Bishop.

Ferris asked him quietly, “Wouldn’t the fighting go on forever if both sides got healed?”

Bruny replied, “Well, my goddess has a very different opinion of how to treat T’Rundi who attack a Ranger stronghold.

T’Rundi came at them from three sides. Mostly Alana concentrated on the T’Rundi that came at her over the wall through the crenelations. Lord Crenda still fought by her side on the right and now Laren fought on the left. The synergy Alana felt with Lord Crenda now extended to Laren. Many Rangers had fallen around them in the hours since the attack began. She couldn’t count them, she just noticed there were still more Rangers who came to take their place.

She had heard someone say the T’Rundi broke through both north and south gate. She could only imagine what battle raged thirty feet below on the floor of the stronghold. A few of her patrol mates were still fighting with her. Ben was standing behind her orchestrating the dispatch of the few T’Rundi that got around her, Laren, and Lord Crenda.

A large group of T’Rundi came at them from the left and pushed the whole group back to the right a good fifteen feet before they could regain their ground. Two more Rangers lay broken and bleeding on the wall walk, as did twenty more T’Rundi. This latest group seemed to Alana to be better than all the others. Was she getting tired finally after several hours of inhuman non-stop fighting and hundreds of T’Rundi? No, something was different about this group.

In the middle of the group stood one T’Rundi that was easily two feet taller than all the others. Instead of a sword he held a scepter in one hand and a small rod in the other. The rod pointed right at Alana. He looked right at Alana. She and Laren exchanged quick glances.

“He’s,” Laren said and was interrupted by the need to decapitate a T’Rundi. “After,” another thrown over the wall. “You,” a third cut deeply across the chest and kicked to the south edge of wall walk for tossing over.

Alana wondered if this might be the enemy that spoke in her mind. The group was really pushing hard again to get back to her. Laren and she cut through the T’Rundi in front of the tall one while Lord Crenda watched their backs. Briefly the large T’Rundi pointed the rod at Laren and his face changed from its usual snarl to what she could only guess was a look of confusion.

He pocketed the rod and drew a large sword, much larger than all the other T’Rundi weapons. He took a quick step towards Laren who prepared to engage him, but then jumped quickly to his right, towards the south edge of the wall walk and towards where Ben was standing. Ben jumped between the large T’Rundi and Alana and attacked him. The beast brought his massive scepter down onto Ben’s sword and broke it, then thrust his sword into Ben’s chest and threw him off his sword and off the wall.

Alana froze and, for a moment, the world stood still as she watched her lover’s lifeless body fall thirty feet to ground. She heard someone screaming and then realized it was her. She barely felt it when a T’Rundi buried its dagger in her abdomen. Laren, who had been about to attack the tall T’Rundi, saw Alana get wounded and went to protect her instead. She stood between Alana and the wall as Alana stood motionless, sword and dagger slack at her sides.

“Alana!” Laren shouted but got no response. She gritted her teeth, turned away from Alana and engaged the T’Rundi now streaming over the wall. She fought faster and faster, forming a one person shield ten feet wide between Alana and the outer edge. T’Rundi and T’Rundi body parts flew in all directions. “Come on!” she screamed.

Lord Crenda engaged the tall T’Rundi. The monster swung at the Ranger’s short sword with the scepter but Lord Crenda was ready. They battled, evenly matched for several minutes before the scepter finally found its mark and broke Lord Crenda’s long sword. A few minutes beyond that Lord Crenda was knocked to the wall walk.

“Alana, Fight!” Laren shouted again. Then she said it in Alana’s mind. “Terin Berinath you must fight!”

Alana blinked and finally looked at Laren and then at the large T’Rundi now bearing down on her. All rational thought left her. The T’Rundi swung his scepter hard at Alana’s sword but she was much too fast. She cut off his hand and brought her sword around again and plunged it into his ribs. He let out a howl and moved to pound her head with his sword fist. As the fist came down she extracted her sword, turned her upper torso to her left, leaned hard to the right and brought her dagger down on his sword arm as it passed in front of her, cutting off his other hand. In the same motion, she plunged her dagger into his stomach three times and then into his ribs, dotting his torso with stab wounds.

Alana cut pieces off of him until he fell to his knees. She then cut off his head. When his body fell to the wall walk, she continued to hack it into pieces until the largest piece left was his hand still holding the scepter. All the T’Rundi around had stopped fighting. Alana stood back up from the mess and turned to look at the mass of T’Rundi standing in front of her, west on the wall walk. Crazed hatred filled her eyes. The T’Rundi started to back-peddle. She was on them before they had taken three steps back and through ten of them before any could react.

Laren ran to be at her side again. So much for watching their post, Laren thought, but Asaeria help all the T’Rundi Alana would see. The two of them continued to fight their way west along the wall walk, killing hundreds of T’Rundi as they went.

The storm began to let up.