CHAPTER 9 - FINAL BATTLE - Part 1

CHAPTER NINE
FINAL BATTLE

Cullen stood alone before his army near a stone that sat right at the edge of three Kingdoms. Seawatch to the south, Vess to the north and Rath extending east as far as the eye could see.
The day was clear and cloudless, with a bright warm sun despite the cool winter breezes coming from off the ocean into land. The stone was thirty feet high and covered in runes on one side.
Cullen thought about everything he had been taught about the Rathians. Grimm had given him a long lesson in what to expect. This wasn’t going to be like attacking a castle or winning back a capitol.
This was going into a land where everyone there is your enemy. All of civilization will be fighting against you. So it paid to learn how they fought. Rathian Horse Lords had been fighting each other for hundreds of years.
Two clans would ride out to meet. If they chose, two champions would face off and fight each other and whoever won signified a win for the whole clan. The other way was to meet, exchange arrows with deadly accuracy and then ride against each other and whoever had the most men still standing at the end was the winner.
Cullen looked beyond the stone and saw, for the first time in his life, the great Sea of Grass. It was dead now during the winter and it looked tan and waved in the wind. It was beautiful in its own way and Cullen wished it wouldn’t change.
Idylls walked up behind him and put her hand along his back. He closed his eyes and let her touch carry him away for a few moments. She saw things with fresh eyes, having lived so long in the dark, she truly appreciated being outdoors and looking on the breadth of nature.
“It’s amazing to see,” she said in her sweet, musical voice.
“What did Glivagar say?” he asked, getting right to the point.
“He says the land will recover,” she answered softly.
“It’s the best way Idylls, but I don’t want to do it,” he said in his own lowered tones. Then he drew his Sword and shoved it into the grass that was taller than a man. He focused on the Sword and it became lit by fire.
The fire spread quickly through the dry grass and it burned out to either side and then deeper in as the field caught fire. Thick smoke began to spread in the wind and Cullen stepped away from the blaze.
“When this burns itself out, we will march. Let’s go back to the others for now,” Cullen said, leading the Dark Fae back to camp.

***

“We can fight his army but it will be decided by you and you alone,” Hafr said to his King as the stood on the edge of the hill looking west across the Sea of Grass. “Our men say they started a fire at the edge of the Kingdom and they march behind it.”
Nicu stood tall and gazed across the land under the cloudless sky. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“You have your magic ready? You can give us more power?” Nicu asked his Shaman.
“For you, myself and Hook, yes. And we have the magical weapons also. We are ready to face him.” Hafr grinned a crooked smile and rubbed his hands together.
“That elf gave us great power. With my magic we should be invincible,” he added.
Nicu opened his eyes and looked at the hundreds of men he had assembled. Many clans were below the hill, gathered peacefully to fight for the right to rule the entire Realm. Nicu knew he had lost the other Kingdoms, but Cullen’s army couldn’t face this many Rathian Horse Lords and win.
He drew the dire sword that Mabon had given him, the Assamese Dao, the sword of executioners in the Underdark, a heavy, long blade that was deep black and covered in bright red runes.
This sword had the power to shape wind, and Nicu had trained with it for weeks while they waited for Cullen’s army. He raised it above his head and the clans below cheered him on.
He glanced back to see his sons standing next to Hook. Hook carried the Naginata, the long sword on a pole that the Dark Fae used. He still wore his hooked swords but he had also trained with this dark weapon and it had the power to cast lightening from its tip.
Last it was Hafr that carried the pair of Katars, giant triangular knives that protruded from his fists. All three weapons were black and covered in red runes and made one dizzy to try and read them.
Mabon had said these were the weapons of his Master, and if Nicu won against Cullen, the Dark Master would come personally and give Nicu more power. Nicu smiled at the idea.
His two sons stood near Hook who just watched his King with the smirk he always wore. His elder son, Dan wanted to wield a cursed weapon too. He was ready to fight, and wanted to face Cullen himself.
Dan was just like his father, he wanted power and to rule. Nicu would have to watch him as he got older to ensure he didn’t try to take the crown early.
His second son was different, he thought with a frown. Radu was smaller and less aggressive. He would rather mediate a problem than just kick someone’s teeth in. Nicu didn’t know why he was so weak, but perhaps this war would change that. The boy could fight, he just didn’t want to.
The clans below raised a racket, shouting and cheering at their King. Nicu waved his weapon again and grinned, eager to face this challenge.
“Let’s go back and you can weave your spells on us Hafr,” the King decided. “But send a few of these clans to make Cullen’s march as difficult as possible.”
“Yes my King,” the Shaman replied.

***

The smell of burnt grass was thick and ashes swirled around little wind gusts as they marched. The Dwarves were in front as the vanguard, their sturdy bodies ready for any attack. The Kingsguard marched behind the Dwarves in orderly rows, each man prepared to guard the one next to him with military precision.
Behind the Kingsguard were Cullen, Grimm, Idylls, the Dreamweaver and Tik. Godsmen marched around them with Anton at the lead, and behind them were the Daoine Sidhe, mounted and ready to support from the rear.
The marched during the day and camped at night. The Kingsguard and the Dwarves, both well disciplined, would dig trenches and raise earthworks with spikes of wood they carried with them to defend the campsite.
The Asrai were the night guard, patrolling as wolves, giant white shadows that searched the fields for intruders. Cullen and his friends stayed in the center of every camp, surrounded by elves, then humans, then Dwarves. They were well protected.
During the day Rathian Horse Lords would ride out of the grasses and attack. They would fire arrows first, but Dwarves were heavily armored and most bounced away, while the Daoine Sidhe would fire their own longbows from the back, cutting down riders from hundreds of yards away.
At night, the clans would try sneak attacks, but usually they were killed by the wolves as they attempted to break into the camp. Cullen’s army took few losses and they defeated everything that came against them.
On the third night, Cullen sat around a blazing fire with Deep, Feather, Crow, Tik, Grimm, the Dreamweaver and Idylls. The Asrai were guarding the camp and everyone was eating bowls of vegetable stew, since meat could weigh a stomach down during marching and battle.
Cullen looked at the men that surrounded him. Tik, he had known all his life and somehow, through all of this, he had been forced to cut off his friend’s hand. He was never going to forgive himself for that.
Tik, true to his nature, quickly bounced back, forgave Cullen and started training with a small shield on his one arm and a sword in the other. He was quick and skilled and was able to fight pretty quickly.
Idylls was a comfort, because she had been forced to do things that were dark all of her life and she had survived through it in her own way. Now she was sweet and easy going, just letting life come at her and trying to enjoy it. She had some fears that the Host would come looking for her, but for now she was safe.
Grimm was clearly obsessed with vengeance for King Remus and his duel with Hook that he meant to have. The Dreamweaver, being the other older man, spent the most time with the old warrior, trying to keep him focused on the future and being there to help Cullen manage the Realm.
The Dreamweaver knew it would be too easy for the warrior in Grimm to try and die fighting, gaining revenge and then letting go. He had to keep him focused on a future and helping Cullen. It was hard work but the old man felt passionately about it.
The Kingsguard were there to keep everyone’s spirits up despite the fighting. Deep kept them moving and talking, so that one person didn’t fall into thinking too hard about the whole mess. It was easy for some of these men to find themselves distressed over the idea of fighting other men.
“I hope Nicu doesn’t bring his son into battle with him,” Cullen said absent mindedly, as if talking to himself.
“He will Cullen, he’s a bastard!” Grimm growled immediately. “He thinks that’s how you raise them, do be conquerors!”
“The few elves that have gone looking for us say that his sons are with him at all times. I’m afraid they will be at the last battle,” Deep said quietly.
“Try to save them. One of you, do your best to not harm them. We learned how to fight like that in the Pit, we should save those boys,” Cullen suddenly said.
“Its bad enough Nicu has us fighting other men!” Cullen continued. “But grabbing those girls and trying to force marriages! It’s too much! How does this happen to a man?”
“He grew up poor, watching his father fight for power and freedom,” Grimm said more quietly. “He grew up with an idea of what the High King represented, and what that kind of power must be like. And he wanted it.”
“He had all of Rath!” Cullen argued. “This is the largest Kingdom of the Realm! And it was his, but then we wanted more, and more. Until he wanted it all!”
“Some men are like that Cullen,” the Dreamweaver said in a calm voice. “You are not; you are quite the opposite, so it’s difficult for you to understand. But he is greedy and wants more than he can even handle. The Realm is suffering under his rule. That’s why you must face him and end this.”
“I know, I know,” Cullen agreed. “I just hate it. The Host could return. We didn’t kill Mabinogion. He’s out there somewhere. We should all stand together against the greater threats.”
“And we will Cullen,” Deep added. “Once we end this, you will have united the Realm again under one ruler. You can guide the Realm in the way you see fit, and we will support you, because we have learned what kind of man you really are.”
“It’s the men that don’t want to lead that make the best leaders,” the Dreamweaver said. And he smiled at Cullen who sighed exasperatedly and finally smiled back.
“Thank you,” he said to the group of friends. “Thank you.”