It was at the fifth hour of the following morning that the trumpets of our watch signalled the arrival of Fabius. I watched beside Lord Helios their approach into Hyreia, which could be seen many miles hence. His horde was incalculable . Before us, stretching to the very horizon, was a sea of black. Even in the dull light of dawn we could pick out the warriors as brothers of those who had arrived with Fabius before, only this time, where once had been chilling silence, now came an unholy din, which I can only associate with howling of beasts. With them came strange metal devices that rolled across the earth belching smoke and noise and misshapen creatures that defied decency. Strange winged apparitions soared above them and lightning tore at the ground they walked upon. As they came closer we could see the vile forms of these warriors. They were deformed, some beyond any resemblance of humanity. Everywhere we looked we beheld horns, tentacles and hideously mutated limbs. Not in our darkest nightmares had we conceived of such beings. Yet, despite the horror we felt as we watched Fabius advance, not one man turned to flee. About us our artillery was readied, our archers signalled. As the first enemy strayed into range of our fury, Helios ordered our attack. Scores upon scores of arrows soared from our walls. A torrent of boulders arced toward our foes. Javelins cut through the air. We watched as this tide of death descended onto the front ranks. Billowing dust clouded our view as our missiles struck home, but to our dismay, when it had cleared, the enemy's dead could be counted on the fingers of one hand! Our arrows had failed to penetrate the steel of their armour, our javelins also. Only our catapults had possessed the force to harm these demons and even then their front ranks seemed unbroken. Helios signalled our next barrage, but before his order could be carried out, spears of light struck our walls. Our towers crumbled. An entire wall collapsed taking hundreds with it. The main gate was torn asunder and the forces of Fabius poured through. From our vantage point we saw the mightiest warriors of our world butchered before our eyes. Our blades were not of a strength to harm these beings, but our resolve was never broken. In the battle around the gate, where our forces were most concentrated, and where the enemy was restricted in his advance, we, through force of numbers, repelled the invader for a while. Lord Helios thrust himself into the carnage of that battle, ordering me to retreat with as many as I could muster to the king's position so that he could be warned. My last view of Hyreia that day was of our forces being overrun and Helios himself cut down by Fabius as he strove to buy our knights time to retreat. It was with only fifty knights that I escaped Hyreia through the ancient tunnels that led through the mountains toward Derax. As we rode back to Onias, we caught glimpses of the plumes of black smoke over the mountains that portrayed our defeat. It was with crushed spirits that we came before Onias and told of Hyreia. To his credit, the king bore all this news calmly, sometimes interrupting our tale with a pertinent question, at other times simply listening, his face not betraying a hint of emotion. It did not need to be voiced that inevitably Fabius would march upon Derax within days. At the conclusion of our report the king took counsel with his remaining nobles and his father's sage. The nobles could not offer any advice and the sage told him only to pray for deliverance. The following day the king ordered all the people in the area to leave their homes, to flee or to move into the protective walls of the castle. Most chose the latter, perhaps unaware of the power of the horde of Fabius. Little did they suspect that such a mighty fortress was to be of no use in protecting them! As twilight descended that evening, Fabius returned to Derax. Once again with his ten silent warriors, he approached the court of the king and requested an audience. Onias had little choice but to grant this request. Again Fabius spoke eloquently. He implored the king to give into his request; to allow him the chance to elevate the people of Averam so that they could serve the true god. As he said these words, his companions removed their helms, and all there saw that they were of the people that had succumbed to the pestilence, lived through its ravages and been so altered by it effects. More specifically, they were of the knights of Derax, known personally by the king and his nobles. Physically they seemed normal, save that their stature was greater, but their eyes were soulless. Those that looked upon them found no recognition in their former friends, only cold emptiness. Onias knew refusal would bring about the death of his people, but the sight of the alternative horrified him even more. In a clear voice, much as his father had done, he refused and ordered Fabius gone from his presence. This time Fabius did not remonstrate, merely turning and leaving in silence. I cannot praise too highly the actions of King Onias. His decision was one of courage and wisdom, and although he could not have known it, was to save Averam from eternal damnation. That night was one of strange events. As darkness descended, the king and his household visited the great chapel of Derax to pray for deliverance as the sage of Meroving had advised. It is true that all there were fearful of the inevitable events of the morrow, but all remained resolute. As we knelt in prayer, all present experienced a vision. Now, it was not unknown for the pious to experience such events, but on this occasion twenty-three men experienced the same divine communication. In the vision we saw a winged messenger of the true god. He was clad in dark robes and bore a mighty sword. His face was hidden, but his head was capped with a golden halo. At first, this figure stood in darkness, but soon we saw that he stood before the gate of Derax, guarding its entrance against any foe that sought to enter. Then the scene changed and we saw a noble lion. Such a creature normally ravishes our lands, taking livestock and on occasion people, but this beast kept watch over a field of sheep. Whenever a wolf or predatory dog sought to drag away one of the animals, the lion pursued it and put it to flight, before returning to its charges. At this point the vision ended and all were amazed at what had transpired. Many sought to explain what the figure and the lion symbolised, but none could say for certain. Finally, we turned to the sage for guidance, but he told us that he had experienced a different vision. He had seen the true god, clad in armour, watching over us from the end of the chapel as we prayed. These miracles gave us much heart, although we could not conceive from where our deliverance was to arrive. After many hours of discussion, we perceived that dawn was not far off and so climbed to the battlements where the remains of our army were arrayed in readiness. It was still dark and as we looked to the sky we saw a second moon beside the one that has always looked down upon Averam. It was smaller, but seemed to pierce the gloom with a divine light. Again all were amazed by this sign and the army was much heartened by the portent. We watched until the first light of day hid it from our presence. And so, if I may briefly summarise, we arrive at the point of this history at which all seemed lost for Averam. Despite our visions, our deliverance had not yet revealed itself and the approach of day brought with it the promise of complete destruction. Yet in this darkest hour, as we gazed over the gate of Derax, out onto the plain, we beheld a wondrous sight. As the early mists that cling to that land rose under the sun's glare, we saw lines of warriors arrayed in the full regalia of war. At first we believed our doom closer than we had anticipated, but soon it was clear that these warriors were not of the black horde. Amazed by their appearance, the king and his household moved to the main gate so that they might observe this miracle more closely. Even as I now recount these events, my heart leaps with the wonder of that morning! From the gate we observed that these warriors were armoured in suits similar to that our foe, save for the fact that they were the colour of the dark forests of the north. Most wore bone-white robes over these suits so that the steel beneath could only be glimpsed beneath their cowls or in the gauntlets that clasped their arms. In the vanguard of this force were mightier warriors their frames broader, their armour the colour of bone. Their weapons were finely crafted, their banners elegant and their nobility obvious in their bearing. As we watched, we saw this army kneel as one, in prayer we guessed, for their heads were bowed to the ground in the fashion that we call upon god. Amongst these kneeling warriors we observed men bearing sweet-smelling censers and mournful bells, whose peal broke the silence of the morning. Above, we perceived seraphim bearing icons of great power. At that point the king caught sight of the host's standard and emblazoned upon it, unmistakably, was the figure of our vision. So captivated were we with these mysterious warriors that we had missed the approach of Fabius. His horde had approached through the cover of the mist and could now be seen approaching Derax. The guttural cries of Hyreia were present, but they sounded strangely hollow against the calm that surrounded the fortress. Our foes were within sight of those that knelt at our gate, but they remained still amidst the ringing of their bells. Then, together, they rose. The black horde had halted, obviously more wary of the new arrivals than they had been of us. For the first time everything had become silent; the cries of the horde and the bells of our defenders went quiet and we aware that the time of reckoning was upon us. The silence was broken by hundreds of voices, not the vulgar shouts of Fabius' army, but the sound of chanting coming from the warriors beneath us. The sound was steady and reverberated around Derax so that the words were clear. Although the language was foreign to us, the very sound inspired courage in our hearts. As the chanting continued, the robed host arrayed itself into a battle line. The bells once again rang out as they formed swiftly into preordained positions. Then, at an unseen signal, their weapons spoke death. Great shafts of fire erupted from their lines, striking the black horde and incinerating those closest to Derax. Fabius responded in kind, his troops given their head charged forward, their screams bloodcurdling and their visage abhorrent. The differences between the two armies were striking. Whilst the hordes of Fabius surged forward like rabid dogs, their enemy, our friends, remained still and calm, directing their might in concentrated bursts that opened up gaping holes in their lines. And although, our forces came under attack from afar, the horde's lack of discipline minimised the number that were slain. Still, the greater number of the horde meant that many made it to the battle line, and thus bloody combat erupted before the walls of the fortress. Our allies engaged the enemy in hand-to-hand combat in the same way that they had conducted themselves at range. Their forces' ferocity knew no bounds and yet it was always controlled. I must add that throughout this battle the robed warriors continued their chanting, as if the very words helped conquer the enemy! Truly there can have never lived a more valiant knight than those who fought before Derax that day! |
CHRONICLE OF AVERAM By Jacob Stow |
FABLES OF THE UNFORGIVEN |
