The Marenon Chronicles Collection

Chapter Twelve





Julian’s war cry had inspired the entire populace of Homestead Village. Though only a few had heard it, word spread quickly, especially when the Royal Guard came in on horseback.

Julian watched as the village began to prepare for the invasion, and he was frustrated with Daniel for putting him in this position. If only the man would have kept his mouth shut, Julian could have left Homestead and then sent troops to aid the village. Deep down, however, he knew it would be too late by then. Homestead would have been overrun before he even made it to Farlaweer. Instead, Julian stood in the village square, watching as men, women and children prepared for the fight of their lives. What if this was his last stand? What if everything he had done in Marenon came to this point and today he would die? Julian shook his head at the thought. It couldn’t end this way. He was the king. Dying for a small village on the outskirts of nowhere was not the way he wanted to go, but like his untimely death as a child on Earth, he knew it could happen again.

The walls surrounding Homestead would hold for a while, but not against any kind of large attack. Many questions had flown toward the man Dink and his wife Emma, about the size of the attack force. Dink assured them that it would be a difficult one to win, but with the Royal Guard on their side they would probably survive. Julian’s presence spurred confidence in all of them.

The sun was falling quickly and there was no sign of an invasion, precisely how the Stühocs would want it, quiet and dark. The Royal Guard sat ready on their horses as citizens placed themselves at the top of the wall overlooking the horizon. Others formed lines and strategic positions all based on what Robin had instructed. This was his area of expertise, Julian knew. Robin hadn’t even waited for the go-ahead, but he was obviously the one that knew what he was doing. Julian was a good fighter, but he was no battle organizer. When Julian walked up to him at the top of the wall, Robin bowed his head and placed his hand over his heart.

“Forgive me, Your Majesty, for not asking your permission to direct the troops,” he said.

Julian shook his head, not taking his eyes away from the blood-red sun. “You don’t need to apologize or ask permission. You know I’m only a source of inspiration and little more.”

“Little more?” Robin said, eyebrow cocked. “If I understand correctly, you were the best fighter on the Dunarian Council, were you not? That’s saying something, especially with Darius Umar next to you.”

“It’s debatable,” Julian smiled. “I think you’re just saying that because you’re the one that trained me to fight.”

Robin shrugged. “Maybe.”

Julian let out a sigh and turned to leave. Before he could climb the ladder down the wall, he saw Daniel at the other end, suiting up and carrying a sword. Julian’s eyes narrowed as he decided against the ladder and moved forward to meet him.

“What are you thinking?” he asked when he was close enough.

“Your Highness?”

“The sword, the armor, what are you doing? You should be seeing to Martha, hiding! You are in no shape to fight.”

Daniel said nothing for a moment. Being addressed by the king in such a way was something he probably never expected to encounter.

“I want to help,” Daniel said. “I don’t want to hide from anyone.”

Julian didn’t know why, but Daniel’s response made him feel a twinge of anger. Julian hadn’t just freed the man only to watch him die now.

“I just…” He paused, then sighed. “Just don’t get yourself killed.”

“Your Majesty, I will do whatever possible to avoid that.” With that he gave a small salute. Julian turned away from him, not knowing fully why he had confronted the man in the first place. For some reason, Julian felt he had a certain responsibility for Daniel’s life. Perhaps it was because he had just given the man the freedom to live again, and now he knew it could be taken away in a matter of seconds.

Then a different thought struck him.

The memory orb!

Would it be unacceptable to obtain the memory orb after the untimely death of one of his citizens? He shook his head vigorously as if to physically shake the thought out from between his ears. How could he think in such a way? Of course he wouldn’t take it. He would not maul a man’s body just to get information. He certainly didn’t want to hope that something bad might befall the man. No. He wanted the villagers to survive this battle. Julian was the king and he would lead his people to victory. Sure, Robin was the tactical genius and would give the orders, but who did Robin take orders from? Julian.

Walking into the village square, he pulled out his sword and began to swing it from side to side. He stabbed and parried at an invisible enemy, occasionally throwing small flames through his sword, using the defensive magic he had learned as a child. He became determined and too focused to even notice anyone else around him. He saw nothing in front of him, but the great battlefield in his imagination. For a moment, he was gone from the shabby village of Homestead and commanding the largest army Marenon had ever seen. His first enemy was a Stühoc, then it turned to a Nestorian slave trader. For a brief moment he even relived his duel with Ward Holden. Lastly, he saw his brother. Anger flooded his veins. He had mourned for a time about letting his brother die, but he had finally stopped regretting it. The death of Morgan Hobbes was the best thing for the Humans in Marenon. He swung at his imaginary brother’s head and then stabbed at the chest. He let out a yell and swung with all his might, catching his brother’s side and killing him instantly. With the phantom's death came the disappearance of his imagination. He hadn’t even noticed the crowd that had gathered around him. Dink was among them, and was the first to speak.

“You really want to help us don’t you?”

Julian didn’t know what to say to the man. Of course he wanted to help them, but he wanted to do so much more than that. He wanted to destroy every last Stühoc for good and be rid of their mess. Why did they have to be in Marenon? Why did there always have to be problems to solve?

“I really want to help you,” Julian answered. “I really want to let the Stühocs know they can’t just take any village they want. I want them to fight us today and realize they don’t have enough power to destroy our lives in Marenon.”

“It means a lot to have a king that would stand with his people,” Dink said. “You’re a good man.”

When Dink finished speaking, he lowered himself to one knee and bowed his head. The crowd of people around him did the same, giving honor to their king, thanking him for staying with him. When others saw what was happening, they too went to the ground. In every direction citizens of Homestead, and even the Royal Guard were bowing to Julian. This was the first time it had actually happened out of respect rather than obligation. These people were truly happy to have their king with them. Because of Julian, they would fight with hope and determination.

After a moment, Julian held his hands out. “Rise!” he said. “You must keep your eyes on the horizon. You must-.” He was interrupted by the sound of bells ringing, an alarm of warning. The first sighting of the Stühoc horde had revealed itself in the distance. Immediately citizens took their positions and readied their weapons. The Stühocs were not coming in secret either. Their own horns blew in the distance, and a loud chant could be heard from their vicious ranks. They wanted the small village to know they were coming. They wanted to drive fear deep into the hearts of the people as they waited for the battle.

Julian climbed up the ladder to see over the wall. There were more than he expected. Dink found his way to Julian’s side, watching as the army that had destroyed his village marched to fight him once again.

“How long did it take them to destroy your village?”

Dink shook his head. “Minutes. There are so many of them.” He pointed to the caravan with hundreds of horse-drawn carriages that followed after the Stühoc army. “After destroying almost everyone else, they started taking prisoners. For what, I can’t be sure.”

Julian remembered the field full of slaves that stood in the cages in Mudavé. Some would be brainwashed to serve the Stühocs while others would be sold to the Nestorians. Julian knew exactly why the Stühocs came with the carriages, but saying it would do nothing but make them fear. Julian would rather die than be captured. Being stuck in those cages only to be turned or enslaved would be the worst fate a man could imagine.

His thoughts suddenly went to Nalani, for some reason. Deep into Nestorian land, she was probably in more danger than Julian now faced. He feared for her life, but she was deeply dedicated to her task, and humanity needed her to get the orange medallion. After that, there would be only one left and the Erellens carried it. Once the Dunarians possessed all six of them, they would be able to use the weapon below Jekyll Rock and never have to fear the Stühocs again.

He knew Alric and Coffman were with Nalani, though their lawless kind would never be his first choice as companions on such a dangerous mission. They were good at what they did, but in the end, he considered them just mercenaries that thought only of money and themselves. He hoped they wouldn’t take off with the medallion and try to make the Dunarians buy it back from them. Julian had already overpaid them just for the medallion from Timugo, leaving the Dunarians in a financial strain. It had been Julian that found the group in the first place. They had done their job well, but now they were responsible for helping Nalani, the only woman he had ever loved. If something happened to her while working with the thieves, it would ultimately be Julian’s fault. He didn’t think he could live with himself.

If he survived this day and she came back from Voelif safely, he would win her back. He had to. She meant more to him than the kingdom. He would leave it and they could start their lives in some distant part of Marenon, away from war, away from any more death. The thought gave Julian inspiration, more so even than the respect of Homestead Village. He wanted nothing more than to be done with this battle and get Nalani back. He would do it. He had to do it.

The Stühocs marched with an ominous, steady pace that toyed with the soldiers waiting to defend their homes. There were lines and lines of foot soldiers carrying blazing torches. Their skin and armor, normally gray, seemed coal-black in the night. Their Human-like features were marred by deformities and scars, which drove fear into any enemy. Citizens of Homestead stood at the top of the wall. Having left their horses, the Royal Guard stood at the wall with their bows and arrows drawn, ready to strike when the Stühocs came within range. Robin stood behind them, telling all to wait for his orders. He gave one last glance to Julian, who nodded in affirmation.

The gate was shut, reinforced and all stood ready to fight. Closed in. There would be no chance of running now. Thanks to Dink and Emma, Homestead was prepared, but were they prepared enough? Julian looked at most of them, knowing that many had never seen battle before. But there was one thing all of them had over the Stühocs. They had all seen death. They knew what it had to offer them and they were not afraid to fight.

The Stühocs charged.

Their screams were loud and terrible, the need for blood evident on their cruel faces. They had never been beaten; they rarely even lost a soldier when taking the small villages. Nothing would stop them, especially a little village like Homestead.

Robin shouted the order for his men to release their arrows. In one unified motion, the arrows flew into the bodies of the rushing Stühocs, taking many down at once. The soldiers instantly pulled out their second wave and waited for Robin’s next order. It came, and again they sent their arrows soaring. Even with thirty or so dropping at a time, the Stühocs charged onward. Julian watched as the attackers came in toward the front then split to either side of Homestead, surrounding the village. Robin noticed instantly and sent some of the Royal Guard to aid the villagers at the top of the wall.

The Stühocs carried no ladders to breach the wall because most of the villages did not have such protection. They did, however have a battering ram making its way to the frail gate.

Arrows flew, but it served only to delay the Stühocs. There would be no avoiding a fight. The Stühocs sent volleys of their own arrows, and villagers dropped one by one. Robin yelled for them all to shoot, then drop, reload and shoot. None of these people had any sort of fighting experience, but they followed Robin’s orders flawlessly.

Boom!

The battering ram had made it to the gate. Julian ordered several men to follow him to the gate to be ready to take on anything that came through. The Royal Guard and citizens at the top of the wall kept firing on the soldiers that carried the battering ram, but with every Stühoc that fell, another immediately rose to replace him. Julian stood in front of a hundred or more men and women, weapons ready to take on the relentless enemy.

Boom!

The gate began to split. A group of citizens had tried to fortify the gate, but it was useless. The only way to survive this battle would be with spilt blood.

Crash!

When the gate split, the Stühocs poured in. Their vicious screams wailed through the night as they charged in with weapons held high. Julian was the first to move. Igniting his sword with a blazing fire, he crashed into the first wave of Stühocs. Stabbing, slashing, gray blood flying in every direction, the line of Stühocs didn’t stand a chance in the king’s fury. His determination inspired the others to fight with as much tenacity, and the Stühocs weren’t ready for it.

He sliced through another soldier and turned to send a ball of fire in the face of another. Even though the Stühocs kept dropping one-by-one, they kept pouring in through the gate. Villager and Stühoc alike were dropping all over the place, and Julian was forced to call them back. The Royal Guard left their positions on the wall to aid in the fight below. Robin tried to stay near Julian at all times, but found it nearly impossible to keep up with him. The Stühocs scattered about Homestead like an overturned anthill, shrieking and tearing at anything that moved, but still the villagers fought back. Unfortunately, the number of Stühocs coming in was too great, and the villagers were heavily outnumbered.

Julian had lost count of the Stühocs he had killed. After dispatching another, he could hear a distinct cry for help from the distance. He looked for the source of the cry, but found nothing until he saw one man fighting off a group of Stühocs.

“I need help!” the man yelled. He fought in a far corner of the village, unseen by most because they were preoccupied with their own enemies. Julian rushed to help the man. With the number of Stühocs around him, Julian was surprised the man had lasted so long. Getting to him was no easy task. Julian killed at least four Stühocs, just trying to move in the direction of the cry. He came within twenty yards of the surrounded man when what he saw caused him to stop abruptly.

Daniel.

The man swung his sword with all of his might, but Julian could tell that his already limited strength was failing. His natural instinct was to help Daniel, to fight by his side and destroy the Stühocs, but something kept his legs from moving. Julian would have never thought to kill the man in cold blood for valuable information, but this was battle. He didn’t have to help him did he?

Daniel swung his sword harder and harder. “Somebody, help me!”

Julian moved back against a building, peering around the corner. Surely Daniel would be able to take care of himself, wouldn’t he? Julian shook his head. He took a small step forward with his right leg, but he brought it back, hesitating. The man had five Stühocs trying to kill him, and he probably did not possess the skill to fend them off on his own. It was Julian’s duty to help Daniel. Still, he could not get his legs to move forward. If someone else were doing the killing, Julian’s hands would be clean. He gripped the sword handle harder, wanting to save the man from a gruesome fate, but he knew that the proof contained in the memory orb would ultimately save more lives. It had to.

The thoughts left him when Daniel spotted Julian standing there waiting. The fight that Daniel had within him faded instantly, as did any kind of hope for survival. In that moment, Daniel let his guard down. His disappointment in seeing Julian unwilling to help him, made him lower his arms. One of the Stühocs’ weapons caught the hilt of Daniel’s sword and sent it flying. Another Stühoc reared back and swung his weapon deep into the man’s chest while another went through his side. Daniel’s eyes never left Julian’s. Julian recognized the look of confusion on Daniel’s face, begging a reason why the king had freed him only to let him die hours later. Julian let out an involuntary scream as he ran to Daniel’s aid, a full minute too late.

The Stühocs were caught off guard and the first three were dead on the ground before they even knew what happened. Julian sliced through the neck of another. The last one began to run away, but Julian closed his eyes and sent a blast of fire from his palm through the back of the vile creature’s head. When they were all down, Julian lowered himself to Daniel’s side. The injured man clung to what little life he had left and grabbed Julian’s arm firmly.

“You’re not the king I thought you were,” he said barely above a whisper.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen,” Julian answered back. “You must know that your death will save us.”

Daniel’s eyes darted back and forth. “Martha!” He tried to yell, but she would never hear him.

“I will tell her of your bravery,” Julian said.

Daniel looked up at Julian in his final moment. “You are not good,” he said. “You are just like the men that sent me to prison without a reason.”

Julian tried to protest. He tried to shake his head and tell Daniel that he was wrong, that he was very different, but he could say no such thing. Daniel had breathed his last breath and died.

The battle still carried on in Homestead, but the sounds of screams and fighting felt a million miles away. Julian was only inches from the truth. He looked in every direction to see if anyone was watching. As he expected, there was no one. He walked around to the other side of Daniel and pulled him by the arms to an even more secluded spot behind an old barn about a hundred feet away.

I let him die. Julian couldn’t shake the thoughts from his head. I stood there and watched as the Stühocs slaughtered him. I let him die!

A heavy weight formed in his chest as he stared down at the lifeless body. Who had he become? He had done the same thing to his brother. He let him die, all for the sake of saving lives. How many more lives would have to be destroyed until Julian was satisfied with the rest of Marenon’s safety? What bothered him the most was that Daniel knew Julian had been watching. He knew what kind of person Julian was, and he had declared it in his last breath. It was the first time that Julian had ever heard words of accusation directed at him. Julian had never thought that his own actions were of an evil nature; he had always been able to justify them.

He slipped his dagger out of its sheath and bent next to Daniel’s body. Taking a deep breath he slid his knife into the man’s chest under the sternum and ribcage and tugged. This is where the memory orb was kept. The knife had penetrated through the scar that had been left, proof that someone had been there before. This was something Julian had never done. He didn’t know how hard to pull. He didn’t know the best way to cut out a man’s heart. With a sharp jerk, the chest gave a little and he knew he had what he wanted. He didn’t want to pull it out completely. He wasn’t barbaric. He reached his hand inside the newly produced hole and felt around with his fingers until he touched something that felt completely out of place.

The bloody sphere was no bigger than a small rock, and when Julian held it in front of his eyes, he could see that everything had been true. The key he had taken from Ward Holden had led him to the proof he needed so desperately. It would tell him if the Dunarian Council had been working with the Stühocs.

It was said that a memory orb could not be false. No one could fabricate the memories that it recorded. When used, it would take every memory that a person had ever had and retain it all within the orb. Whatever Julian was about to see was the truth, whether he liked what he would see or not.

Blood dripped from his fingers as he gripped the orb. It was time to see. He couldn’t wait any longer. The battle waged on, but the town could defend itself. They weren’t the reason he had come in the first place. When he had learned of the orb’s location, he had all but given up. Now fate had brought him to the truth and he wanted it.

He sat with his back against the barn and the dead body lying next to him. He didn’t have time to care about Daniel anymore. The man had done Marenon a great service. Because of him, the lives of thousands could possibly be saved. He looked back down at the orb, not knowing exactly what to do. He closed his eyes and gripped it firmly in his fist. Then he felt it.

A tingling sensation came over him in waves. It was as though he were being transported into a different dimension, yet he could sense that he was still sitting next to a dead body against the barn. What he saw, however, was completely different. He was in Ward Holden’s memory.