And so it happened, that one week after leaving Kalaan, at the age of sixteen, on a mockingly bright and beautiful June day, Lela caught her first sight of what war looked like. The Kyran army was assembled to the west side of a large valley, fairly devoid of trees. Far off in the distance, Lela could see the road that led to Cante, and realized that she was closer to the ocean now than she had ever been in her life. Despite the intense visions of battle, that Lela had been picturing the entire ride over, what she was confronted with was just harsh reality. Men, drawn and weary from battles already fought, performed mundane tasks throughout the encampment. Many sported bandages and other scars, and there was a large tent set up for the wounded.
As Lela’s company rode into the encampment, the men turned their eyes hopefully to the fresh soldiers, and when the spotted the prince riding among them, the eyes brightened before their heads dipped respectfully to honor his presence. Prince Nicolai himself rode at the head of the procession, next to Commander Kereah, and followed by Second Commander Rotinald and Jr. Commander Constant, who were trailed by the rest of the men in no particular order.
Lela kept her eyes open, searching for any sign of Markie, or anyone else she knew for that matter, but she spotted no one. Her company soon arrived at a cluster of tents that had been set up in anticipation of their arrival. Apparently, wagons had been sent out from a city nearby. Once there, Lela dismounted and began unpacking her items into the tent she had been assigned to. She also ended up unpacking the prince’s items into his tent as well, since he left with the Commanders in order to get caught up on the events that had transpired while they were on the road.
The afternoon passed without anything noteworthy transpiring. Then evening came and night fell, and Lela dozed restlessly in her tent, listening to the steady breathing of the nine men she shared it with. She woke to shouts.
~
“We’re under attack!” someone bellowed from nearby.
That was enough for Lela to dispel the last remnants of sleep from her body. She bolted upright, scrambling to pull on her boots and find her helmet and breastplate. She grabbed her gloves, and hoisted her saddle over one arm as she sprinted out the flap of her tent, tripping, and nearly falling flat on her face, over someone’s pack that had been left in the way. She found Silver, prancing at the end of her line. Lela had secured Tumbleweed with the pack horses last night, in case of just this situation. She only needed one horse right now, and Tumbleweed would be safe with the pack animals.
Moving as quickly as possible, Lela tacked Silver up and swung aboard.
“Cavalry! To me!” Commander Kereah bellowed from his steed.
Lela turned Silver around so that she could better hear his commands.
“Constant and the Prince will take one group of 15 around to the left. Rotinald will take another group of 15 to the right. The rest of you will come with me and we’ll meet our attackers head on,” Kereah roared.
Lela found herself nearest the Roald and Nicolai, so she followed them as they urged their horse’s into a canter and sped through the turmoil of activity towards the left of the camp. She knew that Kereah was hoping to surround the enemy with his flanking action, but she hated splitting up. Fifteen men on horses, against … Well she didn’t really know how many men she was going to encounter. But she did know that between the cavalry that had been stationed in Cante originally, another company of about 50, and the foot soldiers and archers there, there had been about 400 men defending Cante, and they had been brutally defeated. Now, with many of the original men dead or wounded, and only two cavalry companies, including her own, and two foot soldier squadrons, which each held about 100 men, and one archery unit of about 50 men, the Kyran army did not have many more soldiers now than they had before. Only 350 soldiers had arrived to help, although more were on their way. But what good were soldiers that were enroute going to do now.
Then she sped out of the tangle of tents, hot on Nicolai’s heels, and the battlefield was exposed to her. And what she saw did nothing to give her courage.
There, illuminated by the faint light of the moon, Lela beheld a scene of terror. The army that perched on the edge of the Kyran army’s encampment, was huge, monstrous. At least 1,000 men must have been waiting to destroy Lela’s country.
Nicolai stood up in his stirrups, yelling a war cry, then kicked his mount forward, plunging towards the nearest enemy soldiers. Roald joined Nicolai, and Lela too asked Silver for more speed.
Men were already engaged in combat. Arrows whizzed over Lela’s head, both from behind her back and ones intended for her friends. Grisly sounds assaulted her ears. The clang of steel on steel as swords met, the cries of pain from men who were wounded, and perhaps worst of all, the mad yelling laughter of the soldiers caught up in the fighting frenzy.
And then Lela no longer had time to think, she just had time to react. Wielding her sword, she grimaced as she brought her arm down, delivering the first blow that she had ever meant to truly injury someone. She allowed Silver to continue foreword at a reckless speed, allowing the bulk of her mount to knock over the enemy soldiers on the ground. Allowing the speed and size of her steed to intimidate those around her. And as she rode, she found herself screaming with the same eerie voice as those around her. She brought her sword down time and time again, using all of the strength she possessed.
At one point, Silver jerked around, rearing as she did so, and Lela saw an arrow protruding from her horse’s shoulder. Further enraged, Lela fought for all she was worth, but the wound slowed Silver, and the mare was cut again, this time with a sword. Silver reared again, and then ducked to the side. Lela was hit with the flat side of a sword at the same time, and she lost her seat, landing in the bloody mud with a hard thud. Silver, now rider less, turned and raced back towards the tents.
Unmounted, Lela had to work twice as hard to keep her body in one piece. She didn’t know how long she fought, hacking and slicing, before she heard a cry coming from the commanders of the Kyran army.
“Fall back! Retreat! Fall back!” they bellowed.
Lela tried to ease herself backwards, to get to a place where she could turn around and run, but she was too busy defending herself. She wasn’t going to make it out alive, she realized, as she deflected a blow to her arm. This was going to be her first and last battle. Numbly, she watched as she caught the glint of metal out of the corner of her eye. Her reflexes weren’t fast enough. Her breath caught in her throat as she waited for the feel of steel against her skin. But what she sensed, she heard instead of felt.
Clang! Her ear rang from the noise, so close in proximity. She finished her turn in time to see Nicolai deliver a second blow, this time to her attacker’s throat.
“Grab my hand!” Nicolai yelled, or at least Lela thought he yelled, her ears were still ringing too loudly to be able to hear his voice.
Confused, Lela stared blankly at him, fighting the urge to pat herself all over in order to make sure that she was still alive.
Nicolai leaned over, grabbed Lela’s arm, and jerked her upwards. Lela, belatedly realizing his intent, did her best to swing herself up behind him. It was a messy effort, but she managed to steady herself behind Nicolai, who urged Sky back into a gallop as soon as Lela was semi-secure. He kept Sky at a full out gallop until they had reached the remnants of the Kyran army. She could hear the cheers of the Neman’s behind her. There cries of victory tore through the valley, just as the first lights of dawn touched the carnage that filled the once peaceful valley.
“Leake, you can let go now,” Nicolai’s voice was hoarse.
“What?” Lela shouted back, shaking her head to try to dispel some of the ringing.
Nicolai took her hands and tried to break the death grip that Lela had around his ribs.
“I can’t breathe,” he protested.
“Oh, sorry,” Lela was still speaking to loudly.
She unlocked her hands from around his waist, and caught sight of all the blood on her fingers. And with the sight of blood came the unbidden memories, fresh and horrifying, of the faces of men, dead and dying. Men she had killed. Men who would have killed her. Bile flooded her mouth, surging up her throat.
Before she threw up all over Nicolai, she slid down the side of Sky, and on her hands and knees, hurled up the contents of her dinner onto the dry grass. Her hands shaking, she reached up to wipe her mouth, but the blood on her hands and forearms, made her reconsider the action.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely, to no one in particular, feeling ashamed of her weakness.
“Leake,” Nicolai had dismounted, and he placed one hand on her shoulder, “Come on. There are others who need help.”
Lela looked up, meeting Nicolai’s deep green eyes, and nodded. Grabbing his proffered hand, Lela hauled herself to her feet, still shaking. Nicolai began limping towards the wagons where men were loading the wounded, and Lela noticed the blood running down his leg.
“Nicolai?”
“What?” he asked, pausing to look back at her.
“You’re wounded,” she stated.
“It’ll heal,” was his reply, and he continued walking.
Numbly, Lela followed him. Together, they hurried to help load supplies and wounded soldiers into the wagons. Lela found Tumbleweed, and, even though she didn’t have a saddle for him, mounted him as the defeated soldier’s began the march back to the next defensible location they could find. A location where hopefully, more recruits would gather before the next battle. Hopefully, the next time the Kyran army would be strong enough to hold their enemy off for longer, and maybe even defeat them.
They hadn’t gone more than a few miles, when Silver appeared, running towards them, her reins broken and dangling. Lela had never been happier to see her horse. A quick inspection proved that none of Silver’s injuries were critical, so Lela waited until she had put more distance between her and the enemy before she attempted to stitch Silver’s cuts.