Memories of Defeat: Chapter I
I remember the first time I went to war.
If you can call it war.
It was a raid. Like so many other raids. It was meant to be a simple affair, to bring riches and glory to House Arkaneth, like so many other raids had done already. House Arkyss, as always, was instructed to send a contingent of troops along in support, and, as always, House Arkyss obeyed. We were never a particularly strong house in terms of military, but we have a fairly strong naval presence, and so we benefit greatly from the patronage of the mighty Arkaneths, while they find their conquests easier when they have reliable captains waiting at berth to take them back to Naggarond.
With spoils.
With slaves.
With the very things we expected to bring back from this raid.
I had barely come of age, and my magical abilities were puny at best at that time. The power of Dhar was available to me, and it was recognized, but I had not even started tuition at Ghrond yet.
I didn’t fight as a sorceress on this raid. I was clad in the arms and armor of a house soldier of House Arkyss. A long blade, a repeater handbow, scale armor … a heavy cloak. Not unlike the famed corsairs, but not nearly as prestigious. Still, Arkyss equipment is of good quality, and I had confidence in our abilities.
Particularly because this raid was led by none other than a scion of House Arkaneth in person, along with his household guard of Cold One Knights. No militia, I believed, could stand against the charge of such a mighty unit. Twelve cold one knights could probably defeat them single-handedly, but of course, the rest of us wanted our share of the bloodshed and spoils as well. House Arkaneth would claim the majority of the booty, but plenty would still go to House Arkyss.
Not to mention that my parents had another reason for sending me.
It was planned that I should marry into house Arkaneth. That very scion leading the raid was to be my husband, and this would forever intertwine our two houses. I was considered a favourable bride, since I was of noble birth, but of sufficiently low rank not to constitute a threat to in-house stability, and my husband-to-be was a ninth son. It was a political marriage, but it would be beneficial to House Arkaneth as well. They would solidify their connections to my house, and the ships of House Arkyss would sail exclusively in the service of House Arkaneth this way.
Everyone would benefit. It was considered quite a political coup at the time, too.
If only they could have foreseen the events to come.
My family sent me along because of the marriage-situation and because it has long been a tradition of House Arkyss that our daughters must fight as well as our sons. I was to prove myself worthy of the honour done to me on this expedition, and if I failed, I would be replaced by one of my sisters. If I failed and survived ...
Well ...
Khaine always has need for worthy sacrifices.
I did not protest. Why would I? Either way, I was due a great honour. Glory in battle or death for my Lord Khaine. It was a win-win situation.
So I went.
I spent a good deal of my childhood and upbringing on the decks of ships and seasickness was unknown to me, although a few males did end up emptying their stomachs. I noted with some personal satisfaction that they were all Arkaneth-soldiers.
Naturally, I saw my future husband a few times. He was not on our ship, but we had no black ark along. It would draw the attention of every navy in the old world, so we settled for raiders and corsair ships, and once in a while, we drew alongside the flagship. When we did, I would scout for him. Try to catch a glimpse or two of him.
I was in luck. Not only was he devilishly handsome, but he was ruthless as well. News reached us that he had personally flogged a crewmember to death for failing to show proper deference, and my respect for him soared. We could not fail with such a leader ... and my marriage would surely be blessed by Khaine. Our children would be powerful and command respect, and I would be the mother of dreadlords.
That ... was my foolishly naïve, childish belief.
When we made landfall, we hadn't seen a single enemy ship. In the best tradition of the druchii, we had achieved complete surprise and landed on distant shores. We had bypassed Ulthuan this time. We were in need of stronger slaves than that, and the peasant stock of Bretonnia would do nicely. Strong and stupid ... and with that human tendency to breed like rats. They would be useful slaves. And useful sacrifices. If we were lucky, we might even capture a knight or two as special offerings on the altars.
I remember how elated I felt when my feet touched the near-perfect sand on the almost impossibly wide beach. Commanding my household guards to assemble near me, we quickly moved onto a high ridge, commanding the beach. From there, we could see for miles around and we could give warning if enemy forces were headed our way while the disembarkation took place. Crossbowmen, spearmen and even a unit of House Arkaneth's swift horsemen got onto the beach and into formation before marching inland as well. Soon, the entire raiding party was ready. The first human settlements we'd come by, short of a major city, we'd sack. Depending on the number of slaves we took there, we'd either re-embark and move elsewhere or continue onwards.
The trick, of course, was to move swiftly at all times, to avoid being pinned down by superior enemy forces and engaged in a battle we were unlikely to win. However, we could afford to be slightly more confrontational than most raiding parties, given our large number of Knights.
So we moved.
We were all spoiling for a fight. In my own household guard, I overheard several warriors betting each other on who would return home with the most slaves and the most kills. Morale was extremely high and I managed to move closer to the Knights in the marching order, to steal a few more looks of my coming husband. His armor was magnficent and I could feel a tingle in my fingers even at this distance. It was heavily ensorcelled, as was his blade from the look of it. The knights flew a banner, displaying a shattered heart ... also magical, constantly dripping with blood.
I would have asked the fools to pack it away if I had known the trouble that banner was to get us into, but at the time, we all felt tremendous pride to have such a powerful magical artefact in our midst.
And we all longed for that first fight.
We did not have long to wait ... but the enemy was not who we had expected.
Memories of Defeat: Chapter II
We had landed some time after dawn. It was our first mistake, but we were too certain of ourselves and our own invincibility. However, it meant we had less time to do proper scouting. Our horsemen located a village, but told us that while we could get there by road, we wouldn't have time to get the slaves and loot back to the ships that same day unless we took a shortcut in getting there.
A shortcut through some densely wooded hills.
Needless to say, no Druchii ever feared trees, and we simply set off, determined to take the shortest route to our target. We'd then have time to sack the village, take spoils and slaves and lead them by safer routes back to our ships before sailing off for another attack somewhere else.
It seemed so simple.
Nothing is ever simple …
Nothing.
But then I thought most things were. Fools that we were. So we entered the hilly, wooded area. It took only a few moments before I began to realize what a monumental mistake we had just made. There was no room for the horsemen OR the Cold One Knights to manoeuvre in there, and our crossbows would have all of ten yards worth of range before inevitably hitting a tree. At best. But of course, no one said we were going to face a battle there. None of us thought we were. We were utterly unprepared when our lead scout came running back telling us that he'd found something disturbing up ahead. Nonetheless, I took three strong warriors of my household guard and went to investigate, eager to prove my readiness and my initiative to my future husband.
Maybe fifty yards ahead of the main battle column, I saw it. A crude idol carved from wood, and topped by what the scout said he thought was a ram's skull.
I shook my head at him and drew my weapons. I recognized it for what it was. No daughter of House Arkyss is ignorant of the world in which she lives, and I knew what I was looking at.
"Get back to the line," I hissed. "That's a shrine to Khorne, and that skull used to fit on top of the neck of a large Bestigor!"
The scout's eyes went wide and he barely managed to pull his weapons from their scabbards before the head of a throwing axe appeared through his chest. His eyes still had a haunted look of surprise in them as he collapsed. I didn't stop to wonder and luckily, nor did my soldiers.
We simply turned and ran as fast as our legs would take us. The raiding party had to be warned.
We had walked straight into the lair of a herd of Khornate beastmen, and all our advantages were negated by the trees around us. I raised my voice and shouted the alarm as we got closer to our own lines, and I thank Khaine for the discipline and swiftness of the Arkaneth and Arkyss troops, who instantly pulled up into formation.
They marched with their weapons drawn … since we were in hostile country. It probably saved our lives.
I had barely made it into formation before they came at us. Howling like mad dogs, gibbering and roaring in their bestial tongue.
They slammed into our ranks with a fury the likes of which I had not been able to even imagine until that point. I saw druchii soldiers flung clean into the air, bloodied and torn simply by the initial charge. I admit I was afraid. This was not the enemy we had come to fight and I knew how bad our tactical situation was.
So I did the only thing I could do …
I ordered an immediate counter-charge by the Arkyss Household Guard.
Running away really wasn't an option. They'd have run us down, and besides, we would have been killed if we returned to Naggarond in disgrace, having been beaten by a few beastmen. And with my troops on the left flank of the battle … if one can truly talk about flanks in the confused, general melee that was taking place … I was in a good position to do something useful with myself and my troops. Levelling my hand-bow, I fired at the nearest Bestigor I could see, sending a bolt straight through his jaw. It didn't kill him but it certainly got his attention.
I still relish the look of panic that rose on his face for two split seconds as he realized that he was standing in the way of thirty Arkyss warriors.
Two split seconds … which was all the lifetime he had left.
My second in command, a strongly built male of humble birth, called Talvar Twinslice, rammed the entire length of his blade down the bestigor's throat without even breaking stride. It was a beautiful kill.
We had more beautiful kills as we hammered into the disorganized flank of the Khornate warband. But Khaine … how they fought back. I sincerely hope you can't imagine the ferocity they displayed. We outnumbered them at least three to one and they still outfought us.
I sincerely believe that if it hadn't been for my counter-charge, we'd have been butchered in those hills. But we broke the back of the Beastmen's attack. They had little sense of tactics and simply relied on their powerful frontal assault to break our lines.
They were not even that many …
When it was all over, we counted our casualties. We had lost twenty four dead, and several more wounded.
Amongst the dead were two Cold One Knights … and another one was so badly wounded he'd never fight again.
My husband-to-be ended his comrade-in-arms' misery mercifully. It was the right thing to do and I approved.
As he approved of me. He nodded to me … it was the first time he had acknowledged my presence so openly and I felt elated. It was no brief nod either but a sincerely respectful one. He too knew what House Arkyss had just accomplished.
The hardest fighting had taken place where the Beastmen had tried to reach our standard. Apparently, they wanted to claim it for themselves. But as we proceeded into the woods, now determined to destroy the lair of the warband we had just encountered and claim their riches … such as they were … for ourselves, the yellow banner with the red, broken heart still flew above our ranks.
We were far more careful now, though. More Beastmen might be around and we were in no mood to suffer more casualties due to unpreparedness. We'd lost almost a third of our fighting strength in dead and wounded and while we were still more than capable of levelling any village we'd find, we could ill afford more casualties. Our oversized raiding party suddenly looked a lot more … ordinary.
But no more attacks came. At least not until we found the Herdstone. It was difficult to destroy, but we managed. We desecrated their shrines, broke their unworthy symbols and claimed complete victory for House Arkaneth and house Arkyss in the process. The Beastmen were not rich but they did have a few interesting items at the Herdstone, offered to their savage deity as offerings, doubtless from other battles.
Our spirits were lifted once more when we left the smouldering remnants of the Herdstone circle behind us and I had Talvar strike up a marching song. It too helped lift our spirits, and soon, morale was almost as high as when we first landed on the shore.
We had no idea that our problems had only just started.
But as night fell, and we looked across open fields towards a river, clearly seeing a goodly sized village within easy reach, we felt confident that our journey would be worthwhile. The magical artefacts we had taken from the Herdstone would vindicate our losses there in full. The slaves and goods we would bring from this village and others, would make the entire raid a complete success.
We could see the village clearly, even though darkness had descended. The humans living there would be fighting in the dark … if they fought at all. We'd kill many of them regardless, of course. Both as sacrifices to the glory of Khaine, and as a warning to those who would find the detritus after we left.
How utterly, utterly foolish we were …
Memories of Defeat: Chapter III
The attack on the village was swift and simple. The human inhabitants were akin to confused cattle, being rounded up and they barely put up a fight. As I recall, we didn't have a single wounded, let alone killed, in the attack. It was a brilliantly executed attack, incredibly swift it paid off perfectly, with no less than sixty useful slaves captured. The old and very young were instantly put down as were a couple of strong males who might have fought back given half an opportunity.
They made good sacrifices.
Everyone was brought along, weeping and wailing for their misfortune. We had no time or pity for that. Had they put up a fight and beaten us off, they'd have proved worthy of freedom, but as it was, they chose to fall on their knees and plead for mercy.
From servants of Lord Khaine.
Not realistic.
However … we now had to bring the captured slaves back to the ships. It was agreed that it would be highly unwise to take them through the wooded hills, since we had no idea if there would be more Beastmen there now, vengeful for the destruction we had wrought on their shrine. We were confident we had beaten the majority of them, but even a few attacking us might allow a few of the slaves to escape in the confusion. Some of the slaves might even decide to fight back. While we'd kill them easily, it meant losing a valuable commodity. It was safer to go by the roads.
However, this was when we made an unforgivable mistake. One I still feel angry about to this day.
The attack had gone so well and the slaves taken were so cowed, that it was suggested to look for more villages in the nearby area. I tried to protest, arguing that we could always find more booty after delivering our first haul to the ships, since that would allow all our warriors to fight, rather than some of them being kept on guard-duty. But it was to no avail, and scouts were sent out looking for more settlements.
From that moment, we were doomed, and I had a nasty feeling about it from the start. My husband-to-be had made a critical tactical error … one that was entirely unbecoming a son of House Arkaneth, but I had no option but to go along with it. I did, however, warn Talvar and had him discreetly make the Arkyss troops aware that we were potentially in a lot of trouble.
Khaine's bloody hand, were we in trouble …
The scouts returned not long after, saying there was another village not far from the one we had sacked and that it was equally unprotected. It would probably yield less since it seemed the menfolk were in the fields and consequently very difficult to round up, but at least it would yield us further slaves.
The decision was made immediately to make the attack.
We did make it there before nightfall, despite bringing a group of slaves along. And the attack went as easily the second time as the first … if not more so. Houses were burnt, humans were killed, bloody ran freely. It was as that kind of attack should be … easy and brutal. There were many females in the second village, but also a number of younger males who would grow strong and pliant given the right amount of torture and whipping. Everyone was exuberant about the haul of slaves so far …
Everyone except Talvar and myself.
We were in absolute agreement that this was abject insanity. We were far from the shore and our ships and we now had so many slaves to take care of that fully a third of our remaining forces would have to be assigned solely to guarding them. If anything hostile came our way, we'd be in all manner of trouble. We kept it to ourselves, of course. If we got back to the ships safely, we'd look like fools if we had protested, so we joined in the raucous cheering, making sure our troops did the same. It was all an act, and my Arkyss troops were extremely wary as we set out back towards the ships.
It would take us almost the entire next day to get there with all these slaves in tow, and they couldn't see at night, meaning we had to set up camp.
We had to camp … in hostile territory.
The stupidity of it all boggles the mind!
But nothing attacked us. We did not light fires and after the first two slaves had been killed when they tried to shout out in the darkness, the rest of them shut up for fear of their miserable lives.
Their corpses were fed to the Cold Ones … keeping them quiet as well.
The night passed uneasily for me, nonetheless. I had premonitions of blood, and a distinct feeling that something was horribly wrong. As morning came, I would be proved correct. The camp was easily broken and we were ready to march again almost as soon as the first rays of the sun could be seen. The slaves moaned and complained but I suppose that was to be expected. They still walked when prodded with swords or spears, at least. They knew the consequences if they didn't.
Their survival instinct does not do humanity any favours. They'd rather survive to eke out an existence as slaves in Naggarond than die swiftly. It is to their detriment and the great fortune of the Druchii that this is the case, but it is foolish of them. Death would by far be preferable in my opinion, but then again, I knew what was in store for them. They were simple peasants and they had no idea what would happen to them.
So they clung to a hope that was already gone.
Or so we thought.
It was mid morning when the illusion was shattered.
We came across a low ridge, following the road back towards the ships, and there they were. I remember the sensation of sinking dread in the pit of my stomach and I knew we were cornered. We had no choice but to fight.
Humans.
Armed humans.
Several of them splendidly arrayed on powerful horses … far stronger, far larger than any horse ridden by our own scouts. Barded beasts, neighing and stomping, chewing their bits in anticipation. And their riders … Khaine's curses, I knew right then we were in deep, deep trouble.
Before we left, my parents had given me some sound advice.
To return rich in plunder, I would have to avoid only two things during this raid. Bretonian longbows … and their knights.
Right now, I was looking at both. Lots of longbows, and six knights, in heavy armor and wielding lances considerably longer than those of our own Cold One nobles.
And they were perfectly arrayed for battle, between us and the escape route. One of the humans pointed excitedly towards us, yapping to his Lord about something.
No …
He wasn't pointing at us.
He was pointing at the banner.
I closed my eyes and groaned. We'd left a trail all the way from the beach to the first village, to the second village and back again. A trail of blood. All the damned humans had to do was to follow it, and now that we had killed the Beastmen, they could even track us through the wooded hills in safety.
At that moment … I hated my future husband. His lack of simple tactical foresight had landed us in this situation. His greed had meant we'd gone for the second attack, while the enemy mustered his forces.
The menfolk of the second village hadn't been out in the fields. They had been mustered!
Their females and their children had been left at home, probably because they expected to cut us off on the way back. They hadn't expected us to be so foolish to go for a second target, but we had … and it had given them all the time they needed to CHOOSE where to do battle. We'd be fighting them on their ground, while trying to keep a large haul of slaves under control.
"Talvar, we don't want to die in this stinking country," I sneered, out the corner of my mouth.
"As you say, Milady. I couldn't agree more," he replied.
"Then you know what we have to do," I whispered and he simply nodded.
I had barely said that before the first shower of arrows came in from overhead.
Slaves screamed.
So did Druchii troops.
I saw one Blackguard raise his shield in defense only to witness an arrow hammer straight through it and through his armored wrist … arm … and through the armor on the other side.
To his credit, he simply reached up and broke the thing off with a vile curse and gripped his sword tighter. Lesser warriors would've curled up on themselves but Blackguards were ever the hardest in the armies of Malekith.
We had few of them for this fight. Too few.
I ordered my unit to the rear. We had no shields … it made good tactical sense to do so, and besides I had no intention of being cut down like cattle.
Just in time too ...
Memories Of Defeat: Chapter IV
There weren't enough archers across the battlefield to create a regular arrow-storm, but they certainly made it hail. Within a few moments, ten of our spearmen lay dead, pierced by numerous arrows, and several more druchii warriors were wounded. One of the Cold Ones took an arrow in the eye and crashed to the ground, dead. At least the beast's rider survived and immediately took command of the remaining spearmen.
Finally our crossbows fired back. They took a heavy toll on the enemy, but not as heavy as they were taking on us.
All the while this was going on, the Arkyss Marines under my command … my household guard … slowly retreated to the back of the formation.
One of the Arkaneth guards looking after the slaves noticed and called us out, but Talvar, Khaine bless him, never faltered a moment and simply cut the guard's throat. The rest of my guards jumped the remaining Arkaneth slave-guards and cut them to ribbons.
We were not going to die in this blasted place. Not because of a foolish, incompetent commander making a rudimentary mistake!
But I could not go back empty handed. I needed evidence of our commander's foolishness, and I needed to bring back loot.
The slaves were out of the question, however. We were not going to make the same mistake as my future husband. I found it hard to believe that only the day before, I had admired him. By now, I loathed him for his foolishness.
Behind us, the exchange of arrows continued. The slaves looked at us in confusion as we cut their bonds and beckoned for them to run. They didn't seem to understand … but it was not important whether they did or not. What I needed was confusion. In both our ranks and the enemy's. I needed time to get to a safe distance.
The sound of thunder behind me made me look back over my shoulder. I felt my heart sink for a second, before urging my troops onwards.
The enemy knights had couched their lances … and they were charging.
The shout of "Beausant" rose above the enemy host as the remaining Arkaneth Cold One Knights levelled their long spears and met the challenge head on.
It was grotesque spectacle when they crashed into one another. I always thought Cold One Knights were nigh-invincible in a charge, but they were crushed. Absolutely, utterly crushed. Mounts were kicked and bitten by Bretonian chargers, knights were skewered, bodies broken … hopes dashed.
They were swept aside as if they presented no challenge whatsoever.
The banner fell to the ground. That damnable yellow banner with the red, bleeding heart. The enemy trampled it underhoof as the horses simply continued their relentless charge.
I turned back and looked at Talvar.
"We have mere moments," I hissed and he nodded, beckoning for the rest of my guards to duck and get going.
The slaves looked at us with a mixture of horror, relief and non-comprehension as they ran. With the tiniest bit of luck, their escape would deter the knights for long enough for me to get away and hide.
Nothing reached us at least.
In the best tradition of the druchii, treachery had saved our skins. At least for the moment. But returning to the ships without loot was out of the question, so we had to lay low for a while.
One of the marines spotted a group of low mounds and we headed there. It turned out to be a graveyard, and Talvar coolly commented that with our luck, the mounds would be home to the restless dead … but fortunately, that wasn't the case. However, they did offer us a hiding place. It was dank, it was dark and it was not what we had expected when we hit shore the day before, but we were safe for the moment. One of the soldiers suggested seeing if the dead had any grave goods, but I strictly forbade looting the dead, on pain of death.
Undead hosts have come into being for less.
Instead, I gave an order for the troops to get some rest. We'd probably need to move very fast when we did move. Under cover of darkness, preferably.
So we waited.
Something wasn't right, though. Sitting there, in that burial mound, I started sweating. At first it wasn't something to worry about, but by the time the sun went down, I was running a fever and Talvar had noticed.
He nodded to me, to let me know he had my back, and I felt fortunate to have such a loyal warrior with me.
The sun set, and I felt very, very cold. Like something was crawling into me and tearing at my spine, clawing at my heart and lungs. But I bit it back and got to my feet, being the first to leave the mound. From other mounds, the rest of my marines appeared and we formed into skirmish formation, widely spread as we slowly moved back towards the battlefield. It was on my instruction that we did so, and some of my troops were not sure why … but I had to see the results for myself. If somehow, the druchii had clawed out a win from the jaws of defeat, we'd be doomed if we went back to Naggarond. If they had lost … well, I needed proof.
It was as I had expected. The dead lay in piles. A bit of mist was gathering as I took in the sights of the battlefield and tried to figure out exactly what had happened.
The flights of arrows and the first charge I had seen. Heavy fighting seemed to have broken out in front of the main ranks next. The spearmen had held their ground at first it seemed … and judging from the marks in the grass, they had even slain one of the knights who had fallen from his horse. His body had been brought along, of course. In fact, so had all the Bretonian dead. The only corpses remaining were those of druchii soldiers and knights. It was a slaughter, though. As far as I could see, no one had escaped. The horsemen had been butchered … their steeds struck down. Bretonian knights wouldn't ride druchii horses it seemed. The crossbowmen had tried to flee and been ridden down. The blackguards had stood their ground and from the amount of blood I saw around them, I guess they took a heavy toll in lives before falling. But they had fallen. All of them.
No one had escaped.
So I walked to the center of the battlefield to get the signet ring from the finger of the male who was to have been my husband. He had fallen with the rest of the Cold One Knights …
Or so I thought.
I got a surprise once I reached the position. He was still alive. Severely wounded, but with his head cropped up on the neck of his dead mount. One of the other knights was breathing too but seemed unable to move.
I didn't ask any questions as I pulled my sword and separated his thoughts from his deeds, while still approaching my would-be spouse.
He sneered at me.
"Teachery!" he hissed. His voice was faint.
I smiled and wiped the blood of his knight off in the palm of my hand. "Are you surprised?" I asked. If he was, he was even dumber than I thought.
"A little. I thought we would have made a good couple," he coughed, spitting some blood.
"So did I … until you showed that you had the tactical acumen of a mentally underdeveloped child," I said, matter-of-factly. "The second you decided to attack two villages without returning to the ship, you lost this battle for us."
He shook his head angrily. "We were so close to winning. The knights … couldn't get past our spears. If you hadn't run like a coward …"
I reached down and slapped him across the face, indifferently. "You are in no position to call me a coward. I live. You die. That makes me a better tactician than you. And as far as I recall, your spears were brushed aside by the human knights … not the other way around."
"They took … the banner. Burnt it … in front of us."
"Good. It was your idiotic insistence on that thing that made them able to track us."
"What …do you ..- mean?"
His voice was growing more strained. He was spending his last strength talking … and I wasn't about to stop him.
"It dripped blood all the way from the beach. A child could have followed our trail and we were even kind enough to clear out the wooded hills for them, making it safe for them to pass through. You are an incompetent fool, and I will make sure your family strikes your name from their records for this fiasco."
He laughed. Blood seeped out past his lips. "Such spite … yet you don't seem to realize you … can't go home either … emptyhanded. And you have no army to complete the raid with!" he wheezed.
I leaned down and smiled at him. "I don't have to go back empty handed," I said and raised my voice. "TALVAR! DO YOU HAVE IT!"
My second in command's voice came back. "YES MILADY! AS YOU EXPECTED, THEY LEFT THEM HERE. I DON'T THINK THEY KNEW WHAT THESE THINGS WERE!"
My dying fiancé looked confused for a moment. "What are … you talking about?" he asked, coughing more blood.
"The relics from the Khornate shrine. They practically radiate magic. If I'm correct, they more than make up for the loss of the raiding party. I'll be welcomed home, and you … will be forgotten. No one likes to remember a loser," I said and stood up straight again. "TALVAR, GET HELMET FROM ONE OF THE FALLEN AND COME OVER HERE!"
A moment later, Talvar was at my side, holding a helmet with a confused look on his face.
"Catch the blood," I said and smiled as I flicked my sword over in my hand and slowly … very, very slowly inserted it to the hilt through my would-be husband's throat. He would have screamed in agony … except I didn't want to attract attention, so I stuck it through his windpipe and larynx.
As he died, I could see in his eyes that he knew he had lost.
Talvar caught some of the blood like I had told him to and I stuck my hands into it, before making a palm- and fingerprint mark all over my lower face.
"Milady, the priesthood …" Talvar began, looking somewhat worried.
"If they object, I'll make them acknowledge! I give this druchii life to Khaine and I dedicate my life to His service," I broke him off.
Talvar bowed his head. "Yes, Milady. We have all the relics gathered. Shall we make our way back towards the ships?"
"They won't be there anymore. They won't wait that long for us," I said, evenly.
It was a test. If Talvar had been shocked by this, he would not have been what I thought he was, but instead, he simply nodded. "I expected as much. We will have to find a boat of our own and make our way back to Naggarond then," he said through gritted teeth.
"We are not many, but our marines are able seamen. We have no choice," I said and shrugged.
"We need to get to the coast in any case."
"That we do. And we need to find a ship we can take over, but which will hold us all."
Talvar nodded. It wouldn't be easy, and we both knew it. But there was no alternative.
Memories of Defeat: Chapter V
The sight that met us when we got back to the coast was surprising … but disheartening. Most of the ships were still there. All smashed to pieces or beached. A few vessels were gone, but for all we knew, they had sunk on deeper water. For all we knew, we were the last survivors of the entire raiding force.
House Arkyss could replace the ships, and house Arkaneth could easily afford the losses of troops … even the loss of a lesser scion … but they were unnecessary losses and it angered me deeply. This could all have been avoided if we had returned to the ships and weighed anchor after we had razed the first village. Instead, dead crewmen were strewn on the beach, bobbing gently on the surf … except for those weighed down by their armour. No doubt the fish in this area would eat well for a long time.
And the locals would wonder why they were so fat all of the sudden.
Disgusting.
I felt a moment of despondency at the sight. I mean … what could I do? With less than thirty marines left, strong, capable warriors though they were? What hope did I have of returning to Naggarond like this? Falling into my enemies’ hands was no more of an option. They’d kill me before even questioning me.
This was a disgraceful end. Fortunately, it was not to be.
My troops scoured the beach for anything useful, and one of them came back and said that one of the beached ships only had one hull breach … and that it was easily fixable since the breach was on the beached part of the ship. The trick would be to get the ship back in the water again with only thirty of us to help get it out there. It would require us digging canals in the sand after mending the hole in the ship, but if we could do so, we would have a raider, faster than anything the local humans could conjure up, and we would be as good as safe.
The necessary commodity, now in short supply, was time. But the longer we stood around contemplating that fact, the less we would have. Eventually, the enemy would come back. There was no doubt about that. I took Talvar and three marines and instructed the rest of my guards to get to work immediately. I told them in no uncertain terms what would happen if I learned that they had been slacking … and I promised them a rich reward if we made it back to Naggarond. Motivation, as they say, is the mother of hard work.
The choice between death, or a slave for each marine and five hundred gold pieces … a whole year’s pay … was enough to get them scurrying for spare parts and tools.
Just as I had expected. Talvar and I picked three hard fighters and went back towards the bluffs overlooking the beaches. We had to keep watch. If our enemies returned we could not hope to put up any kind of fight and we would have to hide again. No doubt they’d then burn the beached ships, but at least we’d be alive to find another way home. But if we worked fast, we might just make it.
We just might make it home.
Right then and there, I understood how badly we all needed one another.
I understood the necessity of teamwork and how … even for a race as famous for their backstabbing and treachery as the Druchii … there comes a time when cooperation and trust becomes paramount and essential. If I had not trusted my guards … and if they had not trusted me … we would have spent time looking over our shoulders for incoming blades, instead of working.
That trust … in the end … saved our lives.
The marines worked feverishly for the rest of the day. They never stopped. Occasionally, one of them would be sent to get water for everyone else from the nearest stream, but even that happened at a run. Obviously, they all truly realized that their very survival hinged on speed and efficiency.
Damned the Bretonians … damned them and their blasted knighthood.
It was very early the next morning when disaster finally struck. None of us saw it coming at first. Behind us, on the beach, the marines had toiled throughout the night. They had started plugging the hole in the hull, but after a while they had realized it was completely counterproductive all working on that same task. They were too many to be effective anyway, so they had split into two work-groups, one working on the hull and one working on digging canals for the tide to come up and help lift the hull off the sand.
Druchii vessels are very light and require only the slightest amount of water to float successfully. Perhaps with the exception of Norse longships, our vessels have the shallowest drafts of any ships in the old world … all to facilitate raiding down rivers and along treacherous coastlines. The canals would work, of that we had no doubt. But the tide was giving us trouble. The water had withdrawn just after nightfall, but the canals had not been nearly completed at that time. In fact, they had barely been started. The retreating water of course allowed the marines to dig the canals deeper and further out than before, but we all knew that if they were not done when the tide came back in, they'd have to start all over since the work they had completed would be washed away.
None of us harboured any illusion about being given another whole day in which to work in peace. We had one chance … and only one … to make this work.
When dawn was fast approaching, I sent back Talvar to check on the canal-digging, and when he was tardy in returning, I sent back two of the remaining three guards with explicit instructions to help dig until their hands bled, and then keep digging if needs be. They saluted and ran back.
I kept only one other guard with me …
It nearly cost me my life.
Suddenly, he raised his crossbow and told me to look. I followed his aim. A single rider had come into view. But this rider was no knight. I could see that clearly, even at this distance. It wore no armour and rode side-saddle.
Oh the indignity. They had sent a female to scout for them.
I told the marine to hold his fire a while yet, since she was well beyond the range of his crossbow. If she came closer, he could shoot. I had to hope she would. If she did the smart thing and turned around, riding away, I would have no way of catching her. She could warn her people, and we'd be overrun unless the tide came in and the canals were ready. As I looked at her, I knew this was the decisive moment.
And then she came closer.
At first, I thought she was a fool, until I remembered that humans can't see in the dark and she probably either couldn't see us in the poor, very dim light of early morning, or she at least couldn't see enough to be sure until she came closer.
Whispering between my teeth, I told my guard to be ready. Again, he raised his crossbow and prepared.
What happened next came as an utter shock to me. Mere fractions of a moment before he was going to shoot, I felt that strange cold sensation I had felt in the burrow again. It made me shiver ... like something ice cold was reaching into my heart and gripping it firmly. Like my soul was being encapsulated in ice. I think I groaned, but to his credit, the marine next to me didn't flinch. Instead, he kept aiming and finally, he released his bolt. The sound was no more than the whisper of silk against skin but the female on the horse clearly heard it. I wouldn't have, had I stood twenty feet away, but even at her distance, she knew precisely what was going on. She raised a hand ... and I thought she meant to shield herself in this feeble way ... but instead, she simply grabbed the bolt out of the air, turned it around and pointed it towards the marine who had fired it.
I don't think he felt much. I do know he felt something. His screams were very brief, but they were there as the plants at his feet nearly erupted out of the ground, tore into him and then ... literally ... tore him apart. I was covered in blood. Fragments of his armor flew hither and thither, some of them cutting me. His sword, twanging a strange note as if it had been mere sheet-metal, bent too hard and released suddenly, flew upwards and landed at my feet, imbedding itself in the ground.
Deep down in the innermost recesses of my soul, I knew I was dead.
Before we left, my future husband had queried why we did not have a trained sorceress along for the raid, but he had been curtly informed that Bretonians generally distrusted the use of magic, and that they had very few sorceresses of their own. Those they had ... their erstwhile Grail Damsels ... he was told, were weak and feeble things, incapable of chanelling the forces of Dhar, and settling for lesser winds of magic like Ghur and Ghyran. The standard we had brought would protect us from such pathetic magics.
Or so we were told.
But the standard had given our enemies a trail to track, it had then been trampled underfoot and finally it had been destroyed, and here I was, facing a Grail Damsel of considerable power. Someone who had just ripped asunder an Arkyss Marine without even making much of an effort. Someone who had grabbed a crossbow bolt out of the air.
I felt fear gripping me. What did I have to fight back with?
Absolutely nothing, and I knew it.
Plus I felt weaker and weaker. Like the very essense of cold was now boiling in my chest. Yes ... boiling cold, however it may sound. I felt sick and I could barely focus my eyes.
Somewhere, something was calling for me, in a language I could not understand. But I knew it was calling for me specifically. It was demanding my attention, but I didn't know where it was. Or what it was. Or who.
I fell to my knees, fully expecting the ground to come up around me and swallow me. Every second, I awaited death at the hands of the sorceress on the horse. But it didn't happen. Instead, she came closer. Warily admittedly, but closer nonetheless.
Something reached up and bit me. I tried to figure out what it was, but it bit me again and I felt nauseus almost immediately. Something slithered away through the grass. A snake of some sort. And still, that terrible figure of death was coming closer. She could probably finish off the Marines at the beach on her own. She wouldn't even need to bring the Knights and their archers. All she had to do was kill me and she could take everyone at the beach by surprise, and I wasn't exactly much of a challenge. I couldn't even stand up.
But I didn't die either. That was the strangest thing. I felt the poison from the snake coursing through me. I could literally feel how it traveled around my body from both bites. Like pain ... moving physically around. I knew if it reached my heart, I'd die ... I knew this, but ... it didn't happen. It passed my heart, through it, coursing on, and I still breathed.
I smiled. I didn't know why at the time, but I smiled.
The sorceress shouted something. Now she summoned the plants around me. Only then did she try to kill me in the same way as she had killed my faithful guard. But she failed. The plants shot out of the ground, but froze and shattered before they touched my skin. The ice cut me. I was bleeding from several wounds now, from the armor shrapnel and the ice, and I had poison in my veins, but I was alive.
What I wasn't ... was able to fight back.
That was when I heard Talvar's voice. I don't think I ever heard anything quite so welcome in my life. He roared a challenge at the filthy human sow on the horse, and I heard the woosh of a spear being hurled through the air. I could barely see anything at that stage. I also heard a shattering sound, so I assume the spear never reached its mark, but what did happen was Talvar grabbing me.
Grabbing me and pulling me down the back of the escarpment towards the beach. The dead guard he left behind. There wasn't much choice in the matter anyway, but me he pulled along.
To help me move more easily, he cut the bindings on my armor and tore it off, throwing it aside. It helped. I couldn't stand, but at least I could breathe, and the cold that kept gripping me felt less hostile once the armor had come off. Not much but ... trust me, anything helped.
I tried to focus on Talvar's voice to stay conscious. He kept whispering insistantly that everything would be fine. That he'd get me to safety. That we'd make it out of here. That the ship ...
... that the ship had water under its keel.
Again I smiled. Only this time I knew why. I tried to stumble along. I tried to help him as he half hauled, half carried me towards the waterline. But there was no strength in my legs.
Then suddenly, I heard him groan and I hit the sand hard.
I heard him fall as well.
Behind us, I could hear the sounds of hooves. Not too far away now, and coming closer.
She stopped her horse and snarled something at us. Again, Talvar groaned and I could hear how his armour was creaking ... creaking ... then how it splintered. It made him scream in pain. I think it would have made anyone do that, to be honest ... but he was clearly still alive.
She was torturing him to death. He had come back for me. He had been loyal enough to come back to get me, even though nearly all the spoils was kept by the ship. I had only kept a couple of trinkets on me, not really knowing what they were. In fact, I had kept them on me ever since we abandoned our hopeless position during the first battle. But the marines at the ship had most of the loot, and they could have left without me. Lied. Said I had all died but they had managed to salvage some of House Arkyss' honor by at least bringing back some valuables, but Talvar was loyal! He had come back to get me and now he was dying because of that loyalty.
I tried to push myself off the sand. At first, my arms wouldn't support me.
Then suddenly, I knew what was going on.
It struck me like a bolt of lightning ... like Khaine's vengeance ... like the charge of the Bretonnian knights had struck our lines.
This ... was Dhar.
This was the potential everyone said I had.
So I whispered its name.
"Dhar ... I will do good service, but I am untrained ... "
And the voice that had called to me was pleased. Right there I knew what was going on and as I stood up, my arms no longer had any trouble supporting my weight as I pushed off the sand. Nor did my legs.
I was covered in blood, most of it my own. I was feverish and in pain, but I could see clearly. I saw Talvar, bleeding from numerous wounds and clearly in a lot of pain, and it angered me. I didn't quite understand why it did, but it made rage boil inside me, to see someone so brutally loyal suffering for it. A lowborn commoner, willing to risk his life when he could have escaped to safety, to save the noble he serves is a rare thing in Naggarond, and while Khaine values good subterfuge and treacherous plots, he also values that particular trait.
Why?
Because it makes Druchii armies stronger, and with that strength comes more sacrifices ... more blood spilt in his honour.
"You waste your magic on a servant, human," I wheezed. "You'll pay dearly for that mistake."
She looked at me.
I think at the last moment before the release of all the raw force stored up inside me. It was painful. In fact, I hope you can't imagine what it felt like to let it go. It was a feeling not unlike what I imagine it must be like to have all your major organs set on fire and then ripped out one at a time. It was awful, but it was exhilerating and while I know others will never understand this ... I never wanted that feeling to end.
The horse was shredded. There is no other word to describe it. It went from horse to Cold One fodder in the blink of an eye.
The rider ... well, she managed to put up some kind of defense, but it was a pointless, futile exercise. She was flung away like a rag doll ... pummelled by magic, she managed to block off the worst of it as she landed, but she was literally being forced up the escarpment to the top of the bluff.
I smiled. I just smiled ... it was amazing. It was beautiful. It was wondrous.
It was agony! It still is, every time I call on Dhar, and yet I never want it to end.
I hated her!
Just pure, unfettered, unquenchable hatred, and I focused it all on her, intent on chanelling it into her very heart. Of course, I had no idea how literal Dhar can be in its interpretation of the user's wishes. A shard of blue ice shot from each of my hands ... coalesced in front of me ... and pinned my enemy to the ground.
She was dead before her back touched the ground.
I went up to her ... picked her gear off her belt and took a moment to wonder at an elaborately and intricately decorated silver and gold goblet. She had a couple of useful scrolls as well. Most importantly, I refreshed the palmprint on my face with the blood from this foe as well, before turning around.
Talvar couldn't stand. But I was not about to repay his loyalty by leaving him to die on this beach. We had no disciples with us, and his wounds were terrible, but if he could pull through it he would be worthy of much higher rank than simply that of a lowly sergeant.
So I helped him to his feet and as he had supported me, I nearly carried him to the beach. The ship was fifty metres out ... and we had no boats, but Dhar froze the water for me, and we walked to the ship, quite safely.
I had barely gotten on board when my newfound, magical strength finally gave out. I fell over. My worthy marines caught me before I hit the deck, as they caught Talvar. We were carried to the captain's and first officer's cabins ... and I was asleep within mere moments.
I did not wake up until we were halfway back to Naggarond. But the journey was uneventful.
As I said, Arkyss Marines are able seamen.
And we got back to House Arkyss alive. With just a few marines lost, and with the magic items from the Khornate shrine as booty.
I won't say we were welcomed back. The raid had been an overall failure, but we were not punished either. And I was allowed to keep the chalice I had taken off the grail damsel, as I was sent to Ghrond to begin the training which was now obviously necessary. House Arkaneth accepted the eight out of the remaining eleven magical items as payment in full for their losses, and even had the courtesy to send a formal acknowledgment of their scions ineptitude resulting in him being stricken from the family records.
I had already forgotten his name ...
The remaining magic items remained with House Arkyss. What they are used for, I don't know ... nor do I ask. It is not my place.
But the surviving marines were seconded to me, and formed the nucleus of my hundred strong guard at Ghrond. Talvar Twinslice ... now a captain ... recovered and still serves me to this day.
I believe he will make a dutiful father to my children once I decide it is time. His strength makes up for his lack of noble blood, and it will infuse House Arkyss with his prowess and power.
And I will be the mother of Dreadlords ... yet.