The Keeper of the Stones

Chapter 29



Afternoon of 15th August – Erriard Forest - Rhuaddan



Sawdon was aching all over. Every muscle in his body throbbed as he recovered from the exertions of the day. He tried his hardest to conceal it from the Thargws and Falorians around him, most of whom were still wildly celebrating their hard fought victory, for he knew it would be seen as weakness in their eyes. And Sawdon’s pride refused to let that happen. The battle in the forest and the fight with Knesh had taken a great toll on the mighty warrior. He was physically exhausted and mentally tired, despite the euphoria he felt at having fought and won a battle. He strode slowly through the massed crowds of soldiers who surrounded him as he walked, taking their plaudits and congratulations and holding his blood drenched sword high in the air to accept their adulation.

The battle of Erriard forest had been won. There could be no doubting that fact. King Artrex’ rebels had been routed and forced to retreat. Their illustrious commander and master tactician had been killed, along with a great number of their best warriors. The Ruddite Rebellion had been dealt a major blow. But, the battle had been won at a tremendous cost in lives. Thousands of Northern Army dead and wounded lay strewn across the forest floor, and a great number of them were Thargws. Sawdon saw their bodies as he walked through the ranks of celebrating survivors and his mood began to change from one of exhilaration to anger. Runners from all areas of the forest began to arrive and reported to him one by one. He learned quickly, to his utter dismay, that the main prizes, King Artrex, Ben and the stones, had escaped. The soldiers who came closest to capturing the King and closing the corridor, told of seeing them gallop away behind the majority of the rebel horsesoldiers, with Ben carrying what looked like a rebel bag across his shoulder. Sawdon seethed with anger as he realised just how close they had come to achieving their goals.

The Thargw Gerada had been in the frontline, unable to see or control the battle. So he was finding it hard now to piece together exactly what hadhappened. ‘Why was the Rebel Army allowed to escape? Why did the second wave of soldiers take so long to arrive? Why had his plans not been followed? And where were the Dzorag?’ the enraged warrior asked himself.

“Shaargh!” he suddenly roared violently in rage. “Those furthest forward are on foot! They cannot pursue the rebels. We have to keep up the chase!”

The soldiers around him fell silent at hearing his roar. He turned to look at a young Thargw to his left. “You!” he bellowed, “go and find the Dzorag, now! Tell them exactly where the rebels were last seen, they are to hunt them down with all speed and every soldier they have. The enemy will head for the T’Nesc Moorlands. They have to be stopped before they reach them. The Dzorag are to kill them all. Do I make myself clear?” he shouted fiercely at the petrified youngster.

“Y-y-yes, Lord Sawdon.” replied the young Thargw nervously, before racing away swiftly to find the Dzorag leaders.

* * *



Vantrax was still on the ridge overlooking the battlefield. He’d taken a lot longer to recover from the use of the Lichtus this time, his strength had been seriously drained and for some considerable period he found himself paralysed, unable to speak or move. He was being tended to by Strymos and the soldiers of his Personal Guard, in the absence of his manservant, Nytig. The sounds of battle had long since abated and it seemed to those on the ridge that a victory must surely have been won. But they had no way of knowing for certain what had happened as yet, and the King’s vision had clearly shown the rebel leader and Ben galloping away to freedom. Vantrax’ strength gradually returned and he finally felt able to stand. He reached for Strymos’ helping hand and rose shakily to his feet.

“Srr... Are you sure you should be standing sire? Perhaps you should…”

“Ra! Stop your fussing, Strymos! You sound like an old woman.” interrupted Vantrax sharply, irritated at finding himself in such a weakened state. He looked down the ridge at the bodies of the three rebel soldiers who had been killed by his Guard. Then he glanced at the three small piles of ash that lay on the slope of the ridge, the closest only metres away from where he stood, all that remained of the three attackers he’d incinerated with the Lichtus, and who had come so desperately close to killing him.

“That was too close, Strymos. We must never allow the rebels to get that close again.” he stated emphatically.

“No sire.” replied the Gerada in agreement.

Vantrax gazed across the plains at the vast expanse of trees in the distance. “What news have we from the forest?”

“A victory sire!” replied Strymos happily. “We have killed many rebels, including their leader.”

“My brother?” interrupted Vantrax amazed. “But, I saw him, in the vision…”

“Srrrr… No, my Lord,” replied Strymos hesitantly, anticipating the fury that might follow his next statement, “I meant, Knesh Corian, their Gerada and…”

“Raaaargh!!! This is no victory, Strymos!” shouted Vantrax furiously, his face turning red with rage. “You fool! You incompetool! Don’t you see? While my brother lives, there will always be a challenge to my rule. There will always be someone for my enemies to rally behind. Do you not understand? He has to die! Raaargh, this is a mess. How did this happen, Strymos? Why were they allowed to escape?” he shouted angrily.

“I, srrr… It would seem that the second wave of attacking soldiers were too slow in engaging with the enemy. They attacked too late, just as I stated. We delayed too long, sire.” answered Strymos, suddenly sensing a chance to profit from the situation and hoping to restore his own standing with the King. “Sawdon was not able to project his influence onto the battle from where he was. Geradas have to command. He should not have been at the front. From our position on this ridge we were unable to see what was happening. The whole plan was ill-conceived if you ask me.”

“Really? How so, Strymos? Tell me.” replied Vantrax, still angry at what had happened but wanting to learn more, the experienced soldier’s statement intriguing him. Strymos straightened himself up and puffed out his chest a little as he prepared to speak, he could see that Vantrax was now paying him his full attention and he was determined to capitalise upon it.

“Sire. On this day, we had a vastly superior army than our enemy, both in numbers and in quality. We attacked a smaller force. Time was crucial, so I understand completely why we did not surround the forest. But why was there a need to attack in two stages? Why did we not send in all of our soldiers at once? All we had to do was advance until contact with the rebels was made, then we would have been able to use our numbers to overwhelm them. They would have had no chance to run. You would have captured your brother, and we would have had the stones. Two waves? The only reason I can see for that decision, was to allow the Thargws all of the glory. No, to allow Sawdon all of the glory!” said Strymos bitterly.

“Rarr… Be very careful, Strymos!” warned Vantrax. “Sawdon has served me well and loyally for many years. He would cut your throat out if he heard you saying such things. But, perhaps, there is something in what you say? I will think on it.” he added thoughtfully. He stared out across the Astelli plains, watching his warriors return from the battle in the forest.

“Krar, there are many wounded I see. Many have died no doubt, eh Strymos? Krrrmmn... No matter, Melissa’s expedition to Mynae should replace them. My brother does not have such resources, and he has lost many too, I wager.”

* * *



Sawdon led the Thargws and Falorians out of the forest, retracing their steps of earlier that morning and walking through the terrible aftermath of battle. Everywhere they looked among the trees there were dead and wounded Northern Army soldiers. Countless Thargws were amongst their number and Sawdon raged at the sight of his fallen countrymen. He began turning over the events in his mind and wondering if he had failed them. As he neared the entrance to the forest, he came across the body of the young Thargw who had blown the battlehorn to begin the battle. He stopped walking and turned the corpse over with his foot so that he could see his face. Two arrows were embedded in his chest and stomach, both of the shafts had snapped under the weight of his fall, his right hand was clenched tightly and in it, he still held his battlehorn!

Sawdon began to realise now why the signald Vantraxe second attacking wave had not been given. He lifted his head and cursed loudly towards the sky, bemoaning the fortunes of war that had allowed his enemies to escape. He reached down and prised the blood-stained horn from the young Thargw’s fingers.

Unlike Sawdon, the remainder of the surviving Thargws returned to the ridge in high spirits. The loss of so many comrades was not for them a reason for despair. They celebrated the death of their friends and rejoiced in the glory of battle. Once again, they sang their songs as the walked, but this time the songs were Thargw death songs, uplifting tunes that praised the warriors who had died for they, according to their beliefs, now stood at the Gates of Kalvanaar, demanding entry to the warrior’s paradise.

* * *



Some time later, Sawdon left his Thargws on the plains and trudged wearily up the ridge to where Strymos and Vantrax were waiting.

“Well? What have you to report, Sawdon?” demanded King Vantrax angrily.

Sawdon brought himself slowly to attention. “My King, I have to report… Failure!” he stated in a deep apologetic voice. “Failure to capture the stones. Failure to capture or kill Artrex. Failure to destroy the Rebel Army. Failure! We have lost many soldiers, scores more are wounded, and we have not achieved what we set out to do. I have failed you again sire.”

Strymos was trying hard to conceal his delight. He was both pleased and shocked by Sawdon’s honesty and he fully expected King Vantrax to now use the Lichtus once more to strike him down where he stood.

But Vantrax didn’t. He stared briefly at the blood drenched warrior before him, then he replied calmly.

“Soldiers can be replaced. But what happened, Sawdon? And what happens now?”

“This is what happened sire.” the Thargw answered, showing the battlehorn he had in his hand to his King. “I never allowed for the hornblower to be killed and not replaced. I should have foreseen it. The signal to attack was never given. The rest of the army did not follow us into battle until it was too late. We were but minutes away from completing the victory and closing the trap. Surrounding the rebels. Had the horn been blown, we would have…”

“Yes! Thank you, Sawdon. I think we all know what could have happened.” interrupted Vantrax, in a surprisingly philosophical tone. “So what now? My brother, he heads toward T’Nesc? Will our warriors be able to catch him?”

“I have sent the Dzorag in pursuit sire. The rebels will have covered a great distance, but I believe the Dzorag can catch them before they enter T’Nesc, though we should not count on it.” Sawdon replied.

“Raarr!! I will not give up now!” said Vantrax purposefully. “Not when we have them on the run. We will re-group here, recover the wounded. But as soon as we hear from the Dzorag, we…”

“Sire, look!!!” shouted Strymos urgently, pointing towards the eastern sky. “A huge black cloud of smoke! What can it be?”

Vantrax turned around to look at the spectacle and his heart immediately sank. The smoke was obviously coming from the direction of his fortress at Heron Getracht, and he was filled with dread ahe looked worryingly across at Sawdon.

“What do you make of it?” he asked, hoping desperately that the warrior would reach a conclusion that differed from his own. Sawdon didn’t shift his gaze. He continued staring at the billowing smoke as he answered his King with his usual honesty.

“I think, my liege... That is Gerada Knesh Corian’s parting gift to us!” he said, shaking his head from side to side in disbelief.