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So far as is known, Rorick is the first of the Guardians to make use of the greater powers of the Sword, though there are some rumours and fragmentary ballads regarding Arvandal. it is said that the Sword cares for its Wielder, and when the necessity for any of the Sword’s powers arises, it will give to its Wielder the necessary knowledge for their use. There are some who say that these powers and their nature prove the Sword is the master and its Wielder, but a puppet. However, none of the Guardians have ever expressed an opinion on the subject.
-Book of the Sword
Kerran Berandis
A man came into the Asbalnian camp that morning, walking from the south. The man was tall and blonde, square-featured, and he smiled seldomly. He dressed like a free-warrior, with a chain war-shirt and helmet. He carried no shield, but thrust through the red and blue sash at his waist were two short swords of Dwarfish make.
The camp guards brought him to the Prince and the Guardian, as he asked, and when he was there, he told them, “I am called Donal the Bane, sometimes Donal Two-Sword, and I am from a land far away. I was brought here by a spell, and by a spell I am required to bring some special news to your chief magician. When I have discharged that obligation, I ask to be allowed to fight in whatever battle shall happen today.”
The Old one stepped forward, extended a finger, and spoke:
“Shaluk deflun rodosekh
Trilekh flonha tirelekh!”
A sudden flare of light burst forth between the two, and as Asbaln’s men fell back in wonderment, the old magician and the young warrior regarded each other. Donal smiled grimly. “Aye, old one, speak the truth, and I have a magic of my own. But have you a spell of the Arkh-bazd Whazar unearthed from some moldering book which will tell you what my news is?”
The Old One bowed to Conel and Rorick, then took the young man off to his tent to speak. The rest of the host formed up in battle array. By this time, the Hygerians had seen the small size of the Asbalnian force and tested them. Two-hundred cavalry trotted out the main gate, accompanied by five hundred infantry. The cavalry, due to some wild whim of the man commanding them, did not stay with the infantry to cooperate with them, but dashed out in a mad charge toward the King’s Horsemen.
The King’s Horsemen had a new style of fighting, tested so far in small patrol actions, now meeting its first major trial. Each man, besides his bow, arrows, and sword, bore a twelve-foot lance slung across his back. Each man also had a small round shield slung at his saddle, balancing the bow case, as it were.
Seeing the direction of the cavalry advance, they moved forward themselves, shooting as they came. At what they felt to be a safe enough distance, they slung their bows at their saddles, took up the shields, unslung their spears, and charged. The shields were small, smaller than many felt comfortable with, but it was necessary to have shields which could be handled swiftly and easily. It was to be hoped their maneuverability would make up somewhat for their size.
The bows of the Horsemen did dreadful work among the Hygerians, and the long lances completed their work. Many of the Hygerians did not even attempt to come to grips with the advancing foe, even those who were themselves equipped with lances, and of the two hundred who rode forth, only seventy-five returned to the gate of the city.
In the meantime, three hundred infantry were advancing to meet the Hygerian foot, with fifty Icarians behind them, loosing arrows over their heads. The arrows influenced morale, though the Hygerians managed some sort of answer at close range with their javelins. Then, with a ringing crash, the two lines came together. For a moment, there was no movement. Then, it appeared the Hygerians fell back a trifle. Then it was sure that they had, and were still falling back, for behind the firm Asbalnian line were black-cloaked corpses.
Suddenly the Horsemen, having conclusively driven off the Hygerian cavalry, returned to strike into the rear of the infantry. In a moment, the remainder of that original band of five hundred were running, in ones, twos, and little bands, for the gate. But one group, fifty strong, formed a circled and retired slowly and steadily toward the gate, presenting a snarling front of fury toward any attackers. They used javelins as thrusting spears to keep off cavalry. They retired before the infantry and they suffered the arrows, but they continued on, and forty of them reached the gates, whereas those merely fled were cut down from behind. There were over two hundred Hygerian dead on the field when the gate was closed.
Rorick looked at Conel. “If they take that little band and use them as officers to train the rest of their infantry, they would destroy us.”
“True. Though I would have preferred seeing all of them dead on the field, I must say that I feel a strong admiration for them They did not panic, they did not trust to their feet to save them, they knew they must be prepared to fight whatever came if they would escape. And they escaped.”
“Our only consolation is they have not yet shown any desire to make their foot an arm of respectable worth. I will say they improve, but they seem to be more concerned with the use of their horse. Then, too, we should intend that none of these men escape to train anyone.”
By this time, the Horsemen were amusing themselves by riding near the walls and shooting at any Hygerian who dared to show himself. The catapults were being finally positioned, and the huge one facing the main gate was being supplied with half-ton boulders. Suddenly a man appeared on the wall, in flowing black robes, guarded by two warriors who stood on either side of him with large shields. He pointed a finger and shouted a word which shuddered in the air. There was a screaming hiss as a large fireball flew forth, growing in size until it struck down a Horseman, burning horse and all into a lump of cinder.
Again came the word, and again a ball of screaming orange fire smote a horse and rider. By the time of the third fireball, all the Horsemen were riding away from the walls with all alacrity.
Rorick rode to a catapult, meeting the crew as they abandoned it. He blocked the path of their retreat, and when they looked up into his face, they hesitated only a moment before returning to the machine and moving it to aim at the warlock on the wall.
Perhaps, as some claimed, he could divine the thoughts of men, and perhaps he simply looked to those places where men remained at their posts below him. In any case, the next ball of fire struck the catapult. Rorick found himself riding forward, Sword across his saddle, past the charred ruin where the last fireball had struck. He saw the finger point at him, and heard the word pronounced.
Then he was holding the Sword up in his right hand, and the screaming ball of fire arrived. He felt only a little warmth as it disappeared in the instant of touching the Sword. Again, a fireball flew, and again it disappeared. He was aware of a tingling feeling in the hilt of the Sword, but no unpleasant sensation. A third ball struck, with no other effect. Rorick wondered if there might be a way to strike back.
Then, from the ruby in the pommel of the Sword, a beam of crimson struck. It first smote down the warlock on the wall, leaving him not even time to cry out, and without touching his shield-bearers. It played swiftly over a section of the wall, and wherever it touched, the stone turned to a white and crumbling powder. Suddenly, as it had come, the ray died away, and even as it did, ten yards of the wall where the ray had touched fell in a heap.
Rorick rode back. Conel had rallied the Horsemen, had prevented them, the Powers alone knew how, from riding with all speed back to the Hills, and had steadied the rest of the war-host. The Guardian rode to the infantry and found Berane. The rest of the band who had been his Warriors were each leaders of small groups of men among the infantry.
He called to them. “You who have served as Warriors of the Guardian. I require two hundred men, swiftly, to take through that breach in the wall. Let each of you find me twenty men, all volunteers, by the time I return.”
He rode back to Conel. “What did you do?” asked the Prince.
“What strange power is that you bear?”
“I know nothing about it, gave that it came when it was needed, it performed the deed for which it came, and it is gone now. May have your permission to take two hundred men inside, perhaps to open the gates, perhaps only to hold the area around the breach so that the rest may come up?”
“Permission? Rorick, you need not ask my permission for such a foray. Merely see to it that I am informed before you leave.”
At that moment, the Old One and Donal came walking out from his tent.
“Milord King, Guardian. Donal has told me strange tidings, and I will find it necessary to consider this for some time. I will say that you may trust him completely,” said the Old One.
“Regarding the magician on the wall, what shall I say? None of my colleagues who are assisting me here have ever seen the like, and it appears that this man found somehow acquired a spell which acted quickly enough to be useful on a field of battle. Given time, we would have discovered its secret and destroyed its effectiveness, but the Sword has served you well.”
“It has indeed. But now we go to try whether we can open the gates of Orden. This will, I think, be work for men and swords more than magic.”
Donal spoke then. “Milord Guardian, may I go with you?”
Rorick looked down at the blue eyes and saw a cold bitterness.
“Will you fight at my side, then?”
Then a light shone in the eyes, and Donal spoke, “Aye, if it be your wish. I will be a shield for your right side so long as I live, Guardian.”
They returned to the infantry to find them waiting patiently, formed in ranks and ready to attack. He dismounted place at their head, and Donal came up beside him. The free-warrior drew his Dwarf-swords from his sash and tossed them spinning in the air, right and left, and caught as they came down. The smile on his face held little mirth.
Rorick looked at him. “Donal, why do you fight for us, for a cause which can mean little to you?”
Donal looked at him. “There is a maid, Helnor the Fair, who lived with her uncle at an inn two days’ march from the haunted forest of Tarrallalla Banarra. Because she walked with me, she lies wounded in a village near here. I have reason to hate the Hygerians.”
Rorick nodded. “Will you borrow a sword and shield? I have never seen or heard of men using two small swords in such a battle as this.”
Donal shot him a glance with a flash of humour in it. “Soon you shall, Milord Guardian, soon you shall.”
Rorick spoke:
“Blade is swinging
Arrow flies free,
Warriors are singing
To victory.”
Donal answered:
“Vengeance comes on my two swords
As into battle I go again;
Prepare, all ye Hygerian Lords,
Prepare to meet with Donal Bane.”
Then Rorick raised the Sword and started for the breach. Donal was at his side as they ran, and the Icarians were loosing arrows over their heads. The Hygerians had the surprise, and a small cloud of javelins breach as the Asbalnians approached. A few fell before they reached the rubble-strewn gap, a few more fell before they crossed the barrier, but those who survived reformed, fighting, on the far side.
Donal was still at Rorick’s side, and the two swords flashed and spun, becoming sword or shield at need, and few indeed struck at him twice. It was cut, thrust, parry, iron on iron, men falling at every heartbeat. The Asbalnians fought their bloody way to the gate and opened it and formed before it. Then they fought indeed!
Then Conel came through the opened gate at the head of the Horsemen, their hooves rattling and flinging sparks from the cobblestones, long lances poised. Now in the dust it became a necessity to raise war-cries, so one might distinguish friend from foe. The Asbalnians shouted “Asbaln!” or “Conel!” the Icarians cried “Kr Yrriech!” For the Hygerians, it was “Kadwashribazd! By our deeds!”
The Hygerians fought mainly at the gates firstly, then two hundred more Asbalnian infantry came over the breach, while Icarians took positions among the rubble and loosed careful arrows. Even so, it was a near thing, a very near thing, for the Hygerians had only to stand and hold, and they came near to doing it.
But the people of the city were forgotten. They had been in near slavery for long, and when the King’s host made itself known in the Hills, those who might have led a rising were forced to give hostages for their good behaviour. Now, however, the chance of freedom seemed to be at hand, and some of them began to incite the people.
At last they came down on the Hygerians, armed with wood-axes, butchering-knives, a few swords which were kept well-hidden, along with clubs or other improvised weapons. The battle lasted until well on in the evening, among the shops and houses of the city. A few hundred of the enemy broke out and escaped, a very few surrendered, the rest fought to the death.
After the battle, Rorick discovered that, of the two hundred who had followed him into the city, a little better than one hundred fifty had survived. Donal was still beside him, and Rorick no longer doubted the efficacy of his two short swords. He had a sword-slash on the left knee, and a hole in his right arm when a Hygerian arrow had struck.
Rorick gave Beran instructions. “Gather all that remain of the two hundred who entered the city with us and keep them separate from the rest. I must go seek the Prince.”
He found Conel at last, by the breach, discussing with several people the possibility of repairing the wall immediately.
He smiled as Rorick approached. “A good fight, Rorick.”
“And an excellent charge through the gates, which put the seal to it. This leaves us but one strong fortress this side of the mountains, Avantir.”
Conel drew a deep breath. “Avantir. It will be difficult to take, near impossible. Perhaps best we simply leave them cut off from the rest of the country, leave them the choice of coming forth or starving.”
“I believe I can take the city.”
Conel raised his eyebrows, then took off his helmet and slung it at his belt, saying, “So? And I suppose you will bring down the Mountain Dwarves to delve beneath the walls, to drive a shaft into Draxon’s hall?”
Rorick smiled. “Not quite so easy, and yet easier. I will tell you precisely how only in private, for it involves a secret of Avantir I would not have known to all.”
“So, then. Let us find a place where we may be by ourselves.”
“First, I would ask a request of you.”
“If the giving of it is mine, then the gift is yours. What would you have of me, my friend?”
“A free hand to ask one hundred and fifty volunteers to be the Warriors of the Guardian, and to aid in the taking of Avantir.”
“I am thinking that you could find twice as many, with no hand from me at all. They are yours, of course, and now you must tell me how you will take Avantir from Draxon and the eight hundred and more men he has in it.”
“When they had found a private place, Rorick told of the tunnel between the castle and the swamp. It was his intention to take one hundred fifty men through that tunnel, open the gates of Avantir, and hold until Conel could come through. The one hundred fifty would hardly be enough to do the task themselves, but the word was that nearly two hundred of the Guardian’s Warriors had been taken with Avantir, and were still being held prisoners. If, by one means or another, they could arm these men, they could almost certainly hold the gates long enough. The critical factor would be having the war-host at the gates at the proper time.
“Aye, “ said Conel, thoughtfully. “It will work if it is done well. But we will want to send troops to the pass to prevent the Hygerians from sending more men in. I think that two hundred infantry and fifty archers will be enough to hold until we are done. We will leave aside Cair Canlon, Draxon’s old fortress, for there are but seventy-five men in it. How will you approach Avantir?”
“Down the river. If our presence is not reported, our surprise will be the greater. And they just might suspect something if they see a band of men moving into the swamp.”
“So be it. You will enter the city ten nights from tomorrow, and at that time I will have the war-host near enough to Avantir that we, or at least some of us, can make a forced march to arrive in time to come through the gates. I think it would be best if we set up camp five or ten miles from the city; they would then be less likely to keep a close watch than with us camped all around the walls. Are you sure that you can achieve your task with so few men?”
“I had thought of it, but it will be difficult enough to bring one hundred fifty through, and try to arm the prisoners without attempting to bring in too many. And most certainly raise an alarm. No, we must do it with these, or not at all.”
“So, then. When you are inside and ready, send up five flaming arrows so that we will know that it is time, and that you are waiting for us.”
#
WHEN RORICK RETURNED to his men, he saw the Old One talking with Donal. Both Donal’s wounds were bandaged, and he was talking earnestly. Though he agreed with what was being said, it was not something he liked. Seeing him, the two approached Rorick, and the Old One spoke. “Milord Guardian, with your permission, I would ask for Donal’s service in a special task.”
“Is he willing to go?”
“I am willing, though I do not wish to leave you, Guardian.”
“What is this task which is so important?”
“Only Donal and I and one other know all the facts regarding this task, and it would be better if we do not say too much. It regards the Forest of Tarrallalla Banarra, and if the task is not done, all our battles may be in vain.”
Rorick raised his eyebrows and frowned. “Does this have anything to do with the Goblins, which are said to inhabit that forest?”
“It does.”
“Ah, you truly do not wish me to know much of it. Would it not perhaps be better if I were to go, using the power of the Sword?”
“Donal has more knowledge of what must be done, and he has some power of his own, which will be most important for this. And, Milord, I might be so bold as to suggest that you are needed more with the war-host.”
“So be it, then. Old One, do you say that the old tales of those who haunt the forest of Tarrallalla Banarra are true?”
“Some are and some are not. Have you noticed that the name of the forest itself is not of the tongue of Asbaln? Yet I will assure you these are not the same goblins against which Garthell Long-Sword fought, for all that they jealously guard the privacy of their forest. But the only man I know who knows much of such things is Ammerlyn, the Wandering Wizard.”
They went their separate ways. Then Rorick did not see Donal for some time.
#
RORICK APPROACHED THE tired group of men who stood and sat and gossiped in a group, with Beran watching. At his approach, they all stood attentively.
“I have come to ask you to join me, that you be Warriors of the Guardian. It is not an easy life, I promise you, and most leave the company in only one way, by death. Yet you will know that the Warriors of the Guardian are men who have the respect of all. Will you join me?”
Not a one refused the offer. They were young men, men whose pride and courage flared within them, men who would do things others would think insane, but who would give all they had, and more. And he knew, with a sudden sadness, that few of them would survive the war. He looked at Beran.
“Take them in charge, Berea. Find some paint to put the device of Avantir on their shields, for the Warriors of the Guardian are a force once more.”
“It shall be done, Milord.”