"DRUIDS BANE" A Tundrawolf Story

DRUIDS-BANE 'Winter's Fortress'

     Matha listened as the war drums started up and heard the war cries of men as they charged the wall made of snow and ice. Flight after flight of fire arrows went over the wall ahead of the rushing warriors and it was a wonder anyone on the inside could be alive. But as soon as the charging warriors got close, the fire arrows were answered by arrows from the top of the wall and many men fell. Arrows also came flying high through the sky to land amongst the King's archers breaking up their lines. There were more warriors in this barbarian village than had been thought. This battle was not going to be as easy as the High King's advisors had been saying.

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     Judoc looked around at his forces as he stood on a raised platform at the center of the village. The platform was covered but Judoc had to occasionally dodge an arrow as it made its way trying to find him. Many of the slave warriors around him had arrows protruding from their bodies but unless they hit the heart or the head his warriors still fought on. Fires had blossomed throughout the village but unless they came close to the gates or the platform they were left to burn. Judoc did not care what destruction he left behind as long as it did not effect the battle.

     The attacking warriors had made simple ladders through the night by lashing small logs together. Now the ladders were being put to use all along the outside of his wall. His fellow acolytes were spread out in a circle around him dodging fire arrows themselves as each directed the slaves that they controlled. Judoc sent small groups of his warriors to several places along the wall that became close to being overrun. His warriors were the finest of their fighting men. The big Nordic barbarians and the Celtic warriors of Albion were some of the finest killers in the land  and they were under his control. Judoc was in another world as he lived the battle through the men he controlled striking down enemy warrior after enemy warrior. He had to be careful or he would lose himself.

     The Druids-Bane were natural masters at killing and the carnage they created atop the wall was horrific. There possessed no honor in the fight as they each controlled small groups of warriors mixed with villagers. Women and children ran in from behind, stabbing enemy warriors in the backs, or from below if they made it over the wall. The High King's warriors were horrified when they watched their fellows being struck down by small hands and they had to turn their swords and spears on children that would not die unless they took their heads. The sand that had been spread on the walkway became soaked in blood and guts and became just as slippery as the ice they had tried to cover.

     Judoc scanned the tree line behind the enemy tents that had been set up wondering when Arthfael would make his move. Judoc was hoping for a different outcome than their Master had planned. If Arthfael and Drest succeeded in cutting the head off of this army there was a chance it would collapse and the Black Druids could stay on the island. He liked it here and did not relish the thought of crossing another sea to a new land to conquer.

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     Arthfael looked down on the tents and the battle at the walls of the fort. The High King with his father stood in front of their tents watching as the battle progressed. Their men had not breached the wall yet but it would not be long before the King's warriors would be at the gates. The time was now for he and Drest to make their move.

     Their warriors came running out of the forest silent as snowfall and deadly as wolves. They were covered in snow and frost so they blended right into the white snowy background of the hills. The enemy warriors standing guard around the tents did not know they were under attack until they lay bleeding on the ground. Shouts of alarm started going up as bands of their slave warriors attacked the targets the two Black Druids had put in their minds all around the High King's tent and the cavalry in the forest. The snow all around the tent started to turn red with blood. With what was left of their warriors Arthfael and Drest rushed the High King's tent, the time had come.