Legon Restoration (18 page)

* * * * *

Barnin took in the village before him. Up to this point they hadn't met with any real resistance as they cleared the plains of the Empire. The village they were at now had already been taken once as the Elves moved through the land, but as soon as the Elves left the area a small fraction of those supportive of the Queen had retaken control of the village.
 

"Sir, this is a hostage situation if anything, how could those inside possibly repel us?" Heath asked and added, "They don't even have any magic users, we can get in without issue, I'm sure."
 

Barnin thought for a moment and decided that Heath was right. "The Elf liaison I connected with said that when they came through there was a catapult left. They were moving quickly through the area trying to outflank the Iumenta so they didn't get a chance to destroy it. We will have to watch for that, but otherwise Heath is right, there can't be more than a couple hundred people behind those walls and most will be hostages." Then to his commanders, "We are going to hit them head on. Heath will take care of the village gate, once inside kill anyone who is hostile, but be careful not to hurt the villagers, most of these people are probably scared and harmless."
 

The wall before them was a tall stockade fence made for keeping robbers and animals out of a city, not a military unit. Barnin fully anticipated having the village under control by lunch. Barnin and his men rode up to the village’s gate, holding their shields up and hearing the occasional clang of an arrow bounding off the metal surface. As they approached the gate Heath barked something in Glosso and a flash of yellow smacked into the door. There was a crack and a groan as the door shifted but then stopped.
 

"They must be holding it closed, Sir, but the bar is broken!" Heath said.

Once at the door Barnin pulled on Poison’s rein and the horse reared, its front hooves connecting with the door...nothing, it didn't budge. Barnin and his men pushed as much as they could with no avail, the door seemed to be stuck.
 

"Heath a little help?" Barnin said exasperated.
 

The people holding the town were on top of the wall throwing rocks and whatever else they could get their hands on down at Barnin and his men. Barnin ordered his men to move back out of the range of the people on the walls as he thought of what to do.
 

"They may have carts or something of that nature on the other side of the door; but you'd think we could move those without that much difficulty."
 

Ankle spoke. "Maybe we can find another way in the town Sir," he offered.

Barnin agreed, Ankle took a group and rode around the village, looking for weak spots in the wall. Barnin wasn't happy; he had promised himself that he was going to have the town taken by lunchtime, which was fast approaching. Ankle and his men didn't find much in the way of a weakness in the wall.

"Heath can you break through the wall?" he asked.

Heath eyed the wall, "It's just wood, but the timbers they used when they built this thing are thick, after attacking the gate I don't have the strength right now, maybe sometime tonight. I will just be able to weaken the wall, maybe cut some of the support beams."
 

"Will it be enough for us to tear down the wall?" Barnin asked.

"Yes I think so, if we can get some ropes on the top of it once I break the supports the horses should be able to pull down a section."
 

Barnin told everyone to set camp. He was confident in Heath's abilities but wasn't going to underestimate those holding the town again. The day wore on hot and dry, Barnin couldn't wait for the sun to go down. As the sun set lines of smoke made their way up from the village and Barnin wondered if the smoke was from cook fires or from those holding the village. As the last of the sun’s rays faded he got his answer. Arrows with flaming tips ascended into the sky hitting just shy of Barnin's camp.

"Everyone up!" he ordered.

He remembered that there was still a catapult inside and he wondered if they could expect anything from that. His thought was answered as a fire engulfed form cartwheeled in the air. It landed with a thud not far away from him.
What is that?
he wondered. Whatever
it
was twitched on the ground and Barnin craned his neck, making out the shape on the ground. "HEATH!" He whorled, "Heath you need to be ready now, they are using the villagers for ammunition!"

Another form came in the air and this time Barnin heard a scream along with it.
They’re still alive!
He shouted orders to his archers, "Those people are alive shoot them in the air!" he ordered.

"Do what Sir?" a man asked.

"We can't save their lives but we can end their suffering! The rest of you on me we are getting past that wall!"
 

Every few moments another person came hurtling over the wall. Barnin, with Ankle and Heath at his side, rode to the wall but away from the gate. His men threw ropes over the top of the wall catching on the top of the wooden structure. Heath sent magic at the wall and Barnin heard wood break. "PULL!" he shouted and his men coaxed their mounts to pull at the wall.
 

The wood groaned and popped as the tall slats parted way with the rest of the wall. Arrows came hissing out. "PULL! PULL!" he yelled and finally the section of wall came down.
 

Behind the wall was an assortment of men in normal clothes; they held swords, staves and wooden shields. Barnin's breath caught in his chest. When the villagers had been used for the catapult he'd assumed that real soldiers were on the inside of the village or worse the Dark Worriers, but that's not what met them. It was normal people, normal people that had used their neighbors as ammo. He rode forward, the people inside the walls running, only a very few staying to fight. His men found almost no resistance once inside the walls; the untrained people were killed with almost no effort whatsoever.
 

They made their way along the wall making it to the gates and Barnin saw what had been blocking the path. Piled in a haphazard heap in front of the gate were the bodies of men, women and children, a pool of bloody mud forming at the base of them. Barnin saw one of the new guys stop and stare, he looked sick.
 

* * * * *

Ankle rode into the village, killing as he went. The sight of people flying over the wall was disgusting but Ankle had seen much worse. As he made his way, he got to the gate and saw the pile of bodies blocking the way, and that's when he stopped. Memories of Mors came rushing back to him and he felt his body grow cold even though the night was hot. Gooseflesh covered him as he remembered, Mors was worse, that was for sure, but Ankle hadn't expected anything like this. There were no Iumenta here, there was no breeding camp, and the heap of people in front of him now was new and fresh. Their eyes were clear staring up at him, blood still oozed from some of the corpses. He looked into the eyes of a little kid, no older than nine or ten. Blood was coming from his mouth, covering his neck and upper body. He hadn't been killed by some army; he'd been killed by someone in the town, by another normal human.
 

Pain shot in his shoulder and he turned to see Heath. "Hey, hey, get it together..." Heath trailed off reading Ankles face, "Hey, are you OK?"

"How did this happen?" Ankle asked not really expecting an answer.

Heath shook his head, "I don't know, but right now we can't think about that, there are still people alive here and others that are hurt pretty bad. We need to work."
 

Ankle didn't really feel time slip by as they cleared the village. Some of those
 
responsible for the atrocities in the village had tried to slip back in amongst the regular villagers; but they were soon found out. They took maybe ten prisoners, who they put to work clearing the bodies from the gate and burning them. Ankle sat at a little table outside a shop staring off into space, ignoring flakes of ash from the burning pyre of bodies. He wasn't seeing the dirt road in front of him or the people moving about, he was seeing Mors and Rachel.

"Snap out of it," Barnin said his voice harsh and demanding.

Ankle turned to look at him. "How..."

Barnin's hard expression softened. "Apparently after the Elves came through, a group of villagers took the town over, they killed anyone who had been friendly to the Elves, or tied them up so they could be used later. There were some other things that they did too..." he paused and shivered going on, "but needless to say it was a group of sick people." Barnin shook his head breathing out, "The women were in on it too, some of them up and killed their own sisters and brothers in the sickest ways, I just don't get how people could go so wrong..."
 

"I wish I could tell you," Ankle said hollow.

* * * * *

Heath was at a loss for what to do for Ankle. A week after they had recaptured the village Ankle still wasn't being responsive, Heath looked at Barnin seriously, "I'm worried about him."

Barnin frowned, "Yeah, me too, but I don't see what we can do about it."

"You could transfer him back to Manton," Heath offered.

Barnin scoffed. "He'll be alright, he'll come back to us, it will just take him awhile. I can't transfer him back to Manton; I don't even have the power to do that. I just wish...sometimes...that I hadn't taken him to Mors," Barnin admitted.

"Sometimes I wish you hadn't taken me either, but someone had to go and it may has well have been us," Heath said.

"Yeah, but you and I didn't get affected by that place like he did. I mean, I have nightmares about it, heck I see those people killing each other in my sleep every night. But Ankle...something in him broke when we were up there."

"Do you think maybe it was that Rachel girl? Seeing her like she was in that cage, do you think that's what broke him?" Heath asked.

Barnin's brow furrowed, "Nah, she saved him, he was broke before her. I think having her to protect was the best thing in the world for him, it gave him some freedom from guilt."

Heath was confused. "What should he feel guilty about?"

Barnin eyed him. "Come on, you don't feel just a little guilty sometimes? We left those people there. And I know we couldn't have done anything...but sometimes," he paused, "sometimes when I dream I see the girls in those cages, the dead ones and living, and in my dreams they look at me...they don't talk but it’s written plainly on their faces. They’re saying, ‘Why didn't you save me?’..." Barnin's eyes watered and his voice grew thick, "and I can't say anything, so I turn away from them and behind me there are thousands of them, millions, the same dead faces all saying nothing." Barnin looked at him, "You don't feel guilty sometimes?"

Heath swallowed hard. "Yeah, I feel that way most of the time; I just try not to think about it. But you're right, fact is Ankle did something we didn't, we could have each taken someone with us...but they’re dead now." He closed his eyes, "I hope now that they are dead that they aren't suffering anymore."

Why hadn't Heath taken someone? He could have, they all could have. Two more wouldn't have had to suffer if only he wasn't a coward. But what if they had all taken someone, what if the weight would have slowed them down, got them captured? It was a sin he'd just have to live with; he thought of the White Dragon,
forgive me.

Chapter Thirteen

Jump

"The purpose in our life often times doesn't matter just so long as we have a purpose."

-Conversations in the Garden

Fire light lit the horizon to the west as Umbra flew. Several of the coastal cities had already fallen to the formidable Pawdin Navy. But as the fires in the distance attested, some cities still held on. Below her were the Laetuc Mountains, which split the Empire in two. Her mission was not to engage the enemy, strictly speaking. Hers was a game of cat and mouse. She glided in the silent night air looking for targets, not just land targets, like bridges and caravans but more importantly, she hunted Ascended. Stealth was her primary tool, she spent her evenings looking for other dragons, when she found them she would follow them and relay their location to Elvin Ascended who would then attack the Iumenta.
 

It was hard for her to not engage the Iumenta, all she could do is watch as her kin did that work for her, but she understood why she needed to stay out of fights; she couldn't be seen. She wasn't the only one in the skies with this mission; there was an Iumenta equivalent to her in the air, a whole squad of them. Some she even knew from before the War of Generations. She'd been playing this game for over two thousand years, and the sad part was in a way those Iumenta were friends to her. Well, as good of friends as Elves and Iumenta could be. They had a working respect for each other.
 

The Iumenta stealth units were also her greatest threat, like her they were experts in hiding themselves and in hunting down other dragons. On occasion she would catch a glimpse of one but could never follow them. She knew this went both ways, on more than one occasion she'd lost an Iumenta following her. Sometimes Umbra would act as bait. She'd let herself be found and when the Iumenta came to attack she'd be joined by other Elves. It was dangerous work, but Umbra fed off it.
 

The night was clear, no clouds to hide in, and the moon was almost full lighting the landscape below her. She hugged the mountain tops doing her best not to be seen but on nights like this there wasn't much in the way of stealth that could be done.
 

She decided to move closer to the coast, the lights from the cities would help keep those on the ground from seeing her. As she moved closer to the coast the air became thick with smoke. She flew high above the city, staying well out of the way of any Ascended fighting below her, seeing the flashes of light from magic to her north. Ships burned in the water as did much of the harbor. Streaks of fire licked the sky as Pawdin ships fired on the city’s defenses. Umbra wondered how much longer the city would be able to hold off the onslaught. She figured so long as the Iumenta controlled most of the city’s air space, the town would hold.