Hiram.
He led the team out of the tunnel, bursting out into daylight. Immediately he struck down two men with his sword, then his eyes landed on all the troops lining the high walls of the inner courtyard.
Seconds after his group had burst into the courtyard, another group appeared on the walls of the castle, attacking the archers. Caspian led the way, shoving men over the wall before they could fire.
Another group of their men appeared on the opposite side of the walls, following Caspian’s lead, while the fourth group of his men appeared in the quartyard with Hiram. He nodded to their leader, twisting aside to dodge a blade. Arrows whizzed by, pounding into the dirt all around, sending up clouds of dust.
Hiram blocked another swing, countering with two blows of his own that sent the man sprawling to the dirt. Before he could finish him off, another barbarian was attacking him. He delivered blow after blow, knocking men to the ground left and right…
* * *
Caspian.
Close quarters fighting was every man’s worst nightmare, what it lacked in actual sword fighting, it made up for with brutal speed.
Nobody could swing the sword around without hitting their own men, so most of the battle was fought with daggers, and fists.
The King grabbed a man from behind, raising the crossbow to stop him from shooting at the men below.
He got an elbow in the face for his efforts. He kneed the man in the back, shoving him to his knees and snapping his neck.
He looked up just in time to see a dagger coming at him from the side. He raised his arm, hitting his attacker’s arm to deflect the blow and returning it with a fist to the throat. He grabbed the arm while the man gagged and used the soldier’s own dagger to slit his throat.
A familiar yell caught his attention, he turned to see Isidro being shoved backwards against the short wall that bordered the edge. The wall was lower than a man’s waist, but the Royal Guard had bent his knees to hit it with his lower back, avoiding being thrown over.
The barbarian pinned him against it, clearly intending to break Isidro’s back on it. Caspian threw his dagger, striking the huge man in the side. The man flinched, but didn’t release the knight.
Isidro grabbed the dagger, yanking it from the giant’s side, and stabbed him again, this time in the stomach. The barbarian doubled over as Isidro swung the knife again, slitting his throat. Blood splattered the knight, but he appeared unharmed, jumping right back into the fight…
* * *
Herschel.
He recognized the man he was fighting. Had trained alongside him. Somehow, this felt exactly like training, only he had to watch out for other enemies. But the rules were the same; there were none.
He blocked and countered, over and over, ending each fight as quickly as he could. Where are Thaddias’s men? He hadn’t seen any of them so far. It felt like they had been fighting for an eternity, but it had likely only been several minutes.
At long last, he noticed Thaddias’s men arriving. But something seemed wrong, they were moving past the barbarians. Herschel’s eyes widened in horror as he saw one moving towards his master, sword raised.
“Darian!” He shouted, leaping over his fallen foe and rushing towards his master. The older warrior looked over at the shout, following his apprentice's gaze- Thaddias’s knight swung, aiming for his head!
Darian dropped to the ground, narrowly avoiding being decapitated. He rolled along the ground trying to get out of reach as the knight pursued him. Herschel reached them, blocking the sword as his master rolled to his feet. He saw the surprise in the man’s face.
He was merely an apprentice in their eyes, but that was their first mistake. Herschel attacked, sending the man backwards as he hurried to block the blows. Quickly the man began to stumble in his rush, falling onto his backside. Then it was over for him.
Only then did everything process. Thaddias’s men betrayed us, if not Thaddias himself. They were now badly outnumbered. His mind went blank as he looked up, seeing a familiar face. Damon. His old master.
The barbarian leader stabbed the man he was fighting, turning towards a new target; Hiram. No. Herschel watched in horror as the man threw his dagger. It hit perfectly between the armor, sunk into the knight’s back, until the thicker handle was stopped by the armor. The royal knight collapsed.
Before Herschel could even think, even blink, his old master’s eyes landed on him, freezing him on spot. Rage filled his eyes. The barbarian rushed him, closing the distance before he could even raise his sword.
Suddenly he was being shoved aside, out of Damon’s path. Darian blocked the sword that was already being lowered. The two warriors faced off, like lions circling before the beginning of the fight…
* * *
Hiram.
The horn had been knocked off his belt during the fighting, now it lay about a foot from his outstretched hand. A fit of coughing slowed him down as he tried to drag himself to it. Gotta make the signal, gotta warn them. Caspian had known they would be betrayed. Somehow, he’d suspected it would happen.
Thaddias had left to avoid facing them when his men turned on them. He’d known that the first thing they would’ve done was to kill him. So the coward left his men to do his dirty work.
He coughed again, tasting blood. His fingers brushed the horn as his body spasmed. ‘I know you’re damaged! Now quit complaining and help me out!’ He internally fumed.
His fingers wrapped around the horn and he clutched it tightly, bringing it to his lips as more of Thaddias’s men flooded in.
Dirt coated the mouthpiece, but he ignored it, taking as deep of a breath as he could manage. He blew the horn as hard as he could, the sound rising above the clashing of swords and screams of the injured.
Moments later, three more horns sounded as the leaders of the other three groups blew theirs too. Hiram lay back against the dirt, mission complete. Just keep breathing… Backup is on its way…
* * *
Jamaal.
Relief flooded his veins as forty more of their own men rushed into the castle, making the battle an even match. Jamaal hurried about, gathering the injured into the tunnels to get them out of harm’s way, and make sure they would be easy to find once they were ready to retreat.
He tried to keep track of how many of their men he hauled, hoping there would be enough left to carry them back to Rayndra.
At this point there was a clearing behind the battle where he could run with only the fear of being struck by arrows and daggers. He had just finished dropping off another warrior, when Herschel rushed over to him.
“Jamaal, come quickly!” The kid was breathing too rapidly to speak properly, and the older warrior grabbed him by the shoulders to slow him down.
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Hiram. He-” Jamaal didn’t bother waiting for the rest, hurrying in the direction the apprentice had come from. It took only a moment to spot his friend, lying face down in the snow and dirt. Darian stood above him, sword raised as he fought off those who tried to finish the warrior off.
Jamaal ran to the limp form, eyes landing on the dagger in his back. “This might hurt.” He warned, grabbing the dagger. He quickly pulled it out, careful not to add to the damage. Hiram, known to be the roughest of the three, only tightened his clenched fists in silence.
“Hang on.” He lifted Hiram onto his shoulder, ignoring the moan that escaped. Herschel and Darian hurried after him, making sure they made it to the tunnels safely. It was as if the eyes of all their men were on the group as they hurried past.
One of the leaders was down. The realization added to the fury in their eyes, and suddenly they were pushing back the barbarians and Thaddias’s men even faster.
Jamaal reached the tunnels and carefully lowered the man to the ground. He stripped his cape off, tying it tightly around the wound. “Hang in there.” He glanced around, wishing he could offer more than words…
* * *