The Story of Evil: Volume I - Heroes of the Siege (7 page)

The Giant placed his hand on the shorter warrior’s red shoulder spaulder. Steve served as a crutch for the Giant to get pressure off his injured leg. The two went as fast as they could towards the castle, but it was staggeringly slow. The drawbridge had already started to creak as its chains slowly began to pull it up. The warriors could not risk letting even one monster onto the drawbridge. All the monsters would have to do would be to freeze the large chains with a monster that had the water element and then break them by smashing them with a weapon. The drawbridge would stay down, allowing monsters to enter the castle courtyard freely.

Steve knew any warrior would feel bad to have to deny access when a brother was so close to safety. The only solitude they might find if he and the Giant died would be to shift the blame to them and say, “The bells gave them enough of a warning. It was their fault they didn’t make it to the castle on time.”

Steve wished he was a Giant like the man he was escorting. He could use a Giant’s size and strength in this situation. The two men were moving too slowly. A fast green orc had caught up to them. Undoubtedly he had used his element of wind to increase his speed. The monster was preparing to swing his weapon into the backs of the unknowing warriors, when an arrow entered into his forehead. More of the castle archers had come and were standing on the wall above the drawbridge and in the two towers on either side of it. Now that the monsters were closer, they could all pick off the ones of their choosing instead of just launching arrows wildly into the horde.

The Giant hopped as high as he could on his uninjured leg as Steve heaved him up with a push from his other side. It was just enough of an effort to get him on top of the rising drawbridge. Steve threw Brightflame up onto it since he had no sheath to carry it in.

The drawbridge was quickly rising higher and higher. Steve reached up, but it was just out of reach. He quickly took a couple steps back and prepared for a running jump. If he missed, he would fall down into the sharp spiked and alligator infested moat below him. The alligators were not fed that often.

Steve sprinted forward, and planted his foot dangerously close to the edge of the cliff where the cobblestone road dropped off into the moat. He used every muscle in his right leg to launch himself as high as he could. The fingers of his left hand didn’t get high enough to reach the edge of the drawbridge. Luckily, a split second later, he shot up his right arm and caught on with his right hand. He hung on by one arm with all his strength as the bridge continued to be raised.

Steve looked back to see the monsters, but before noticing them, he saw a Dwarf warrior running for the bridge. The Dwarf’s small strides didn’t allow him to run as fast as the other warriors. With a face full of fear, he was standing at the edge of the cliff, right where Steve had just been. Steve held out his free hand and yelled, “Jump!”

Their arms met and they both gripped their fingers around each other’s forearms so tightly it would leave bruises.

Steve had caught him. Rather, they had caught each other. Steve was glad this was just a Dwarf. He would not have been able to catch the weight of a Human, Elf, or Giant with just the one hand. Still, as soon as he caught the Dwarf he knew the sudden extra weight was too much. The Dwarf had felt Steve’s body give a little bit when he had latched on. Steve’s right hand started to slip from the drawbridge. If he didn’t drop the Dwarf, they would both fall to their deaths.

“LET ME GO!” the halfman yelled. A warrior would always end his life before taking a fellow brother down with him. Steve declined the man’s advice. He would never forgive himself if he allowed his grip to loosen and the Dwarf to fall. As he looked down at the little man, his gaze moved past him and down to the iron spikes jutting up out of the murky green water. Sadly death would not be instant. He would be impaled by a spike and unable to move, and then he would have to endure being eaten alive by the alligators.

Steve felt his hand holding the drawbridge slip again. For a brief second only the tips of his four fingers held onto the edge. He cried out in agony at the pain of his inadequate strength.

And then he lost his grip.

Chapter 6

A large hand quickly reached over the ledge and caught Steve’s arm as he fell. With all of the strength in his massive right arm and shoulder, the Giant lifted up both the Human and the Dwarf, who Steve had never let go of. The Dwarf got up high enough that he was able to reach up and get both hands on the edge of the ledge and pull himself up. The Giant helped pull Steve up the rest of the way as Steve’s arms felt like jelly from soreness. The three rolled down the slope of the drawbridge and into the castle’s courtyard. They heard the pelting of arrows into the other side of the drawbridge, where they had just been hanging.

“Thank you for saving my life.” The Dwarf and the Giant simultaneously said, as Steve picked Brightflame up off the ground.

“You would have done the same for me,” Steve replied.

The massive drawbridge was raised the rest of the way and made a loud clunk as it locked into the wall. Four massive iron portcullises were then dropped behind it. The bars on each gate went horizontal, vertical, and then crisscrossed in opposite directions. It would be impossible for any monster to break through their defenses. If any monsters did, they would still have to cross the courtyard and then get through the even thicker portcullis that led into the actual castle.

A doctor came rushing over to the warriors, the last three to make it into the courtyard. She looked down at the Giant’s leg. “We need to get that arrow out. Come, I’ll show you where we are treating warriors.” The attractive female doctor got under one of the Giant’s shoulders. The Dwarf hurried under the other one to help. The Giant had to awkwardly crouch to bring himself down to their level.

Steve thought about joining them and getting treatment for his concussion and the injuries to his ear and forehead, but he hated going to doctor’s for help. His pride told him it was a sign of weakness if he admitted he was physically hurting.

Steve watched as the warriors and the doctor headed off together to a medical tent. Before they were out of sight, the Dwarf turned around and nodded to Steve in silent appreciation. Steve tipped his head back in acceptance. That was the last time he ever saw the Giant and the Dwarf.

Steve walked down the courtyard’s main central path. Tributaries that stemmed from both sides of the path led walkers through beautiful gardens and magnificent fountains. There were also huge bushes and blocks of granite carved in the form of legendary heroes. The courtyard was open to the public at any point during the day. People would often come to this scenic place to read, write, or have a picnic. It was normally a beautiful and peaceful place, but today it was anything but serenity. There was not a civilian in the courtyard that was not physically or emotionally in pain. The wounded were being treated by what few doctors and surgeons had made it inside the castle wall. If a warrior was too injured and could not make it to one of the tents that were set up sporadically around the courtyard, they would just stay in one spot and call out for help.

The grunts and groans of warriors, men, women, and children in agonizing pain filled the air. Doctors rushed around barking orders. Steve couldn’t imagine the decisions they were faced with. The goal of the limited amount of surgeons was to save as many people as possible. They had to determine which injuries were not life threatening enough that their time would not be wasted if they worked on them. Walking away from someone meant that they were leaving that person to die. The doctors would move on to someone they were sure could pull through. Anyone who wasn’t injured was either trying to aid the medically trained civilians, crying uncontrollably, or consoling their friends, families, and even complete strangers about the loved ones they had lost.

Steve looked down and tightened his grip around Brightflame in his hand. He often found himself subconsciously touching his sword whenever he was saw civilians in pain. Brightflame was somewhat of a reminder that he was their protector. It was his responsibility to use the power that his sword gave him to defend the weak.

Trying to ignore the pain all around him, Steve walked on. He ran up a large set of stone steps two at a time and jogged up onto the large stone platform. Sometimes this raised stage was used for plays and musical events. Civilians could come and sit in the courtyard and watch. It would not be the last time today that Steve would find himself on the stage.

He walked across the large stone platform, under the iron barred portcullis, and through the large doors of the castle. Only invited guests were admitted past this point and into the actual castle. Average warriors like Steve were not even allowed in unless the city was under attack.

Steve had only been invited to the castle once before. After a warrior won the Qualifiers and became Celestial’s official entrant for the Warriors’ Jousting Tournament, they were invited to a special banquet. Steve politely declined the invitation because he wanted to celebrate along with the civilians in his hometown section in Celestial rather than in the castle. The children who drew pictures of him jousting and saved up their allowances to buy carrots for Clyx were his real fans. They were the ones who supported him over the other warriors and served as his main inspiration to win. Steve figured if there was anyone he wanted to celebrate with it was them.

The day after he won the Qualifiers, a large party was held in the closest plaza near Steve’s apartment in the arena district. Everyone he knew from his life up to that point came out to support him and wished him luck in the upcoming tournament: Titus Thatcher, Ty, Darren, all of the warriors from his watchtower, and all of his neighbors in the local community. It was a very happy time of celebration. Steve could not think of any time he smiled more or laughed as much as he did that night with his family and friends surrounding him.

Everyone that came brought their best dishes of food. It was more than enough to fill the bellies of everyone in attendance. Even the stray dogs, cats, and street orphans, who had come to see what all the commotion about, were freely given a hearty amount. Steve used the opportunity of having so many people in attendance to auction off the lances and armor that he wore throughout the Qualifiers. The earnings were all given to local charities that Steve was burdened for.

The highlight of the day’s events was a miniature jousting tournament for the children. The warriors from Steve’s watchtower spent the entire previous night setting up a tiny arena out of hay bales. Young boys felt like the warriors they dreamed of being as they were given miniature ponies to ride and flimsy rubber lances to joust with. As a reward for participation, all of the participants were given toy replicas of Steve’s sword, Brightflame. They were also all given front row seats for Steve’s first match in the Warriors’ Jousting Tournament.

Steve held a belief that there are winners and losers in competition, and because of this, not everyone deserves to be rewarded with the same prize. He wanted the champion of the mini-joust to receive something special. So Steve decided that the winner would become his forth squire and be the one to carry Brightflame in its sheath while he was jousting. Sadly, that boy was one of the squires who had died.

Steve was the last warrior to enter into the castle. The portcullis was dropped and the giant doors were closed behind him. He looked around the magnificent entrance lobby. The rest of the warriors numbered around seventy-five. That number should have been many, many times higher. The men stood in tight circles, whispering about what was going on and the horrors they had seen within the past hour.

A figure in a shining gold and silver armored suit walked down the long straight staircase leading up to the further stories of the castle. The voice of the man interrupted all of the conversations as he stopped and stood on the stairs, overlooking the warriors in the lobby.

Sir Lambert was the Supreme Commander of the warriors of Celestial. His rank and title were shown by the amount of gold he wore on his armor. He was King Zoran’s right hand man. Steve was convinced along with most warriors, that Sir Lambert was the smartest man in the kingdom. He planned attack raids against monsters and devised intricate battle strategies that never failed. He pitted the strengths of his men against the weaknesses of the monsters they fought. Lambert had helped design the defenses of Celestial including the warriors’ watchtowers. He had also created the city’s defense plan in case of a surprise attack; the plan that Steve and the rest of the city had just followed.

“Archers to the walls. Aerial warriors, saddle whatever monsters are left in the high stables of the castle towers.”

Steve was surprised at the Supreme Commander’s calmness as he called out orders to the warriors in the lobby, telling them which parts of the castle they would be designated to. Steve found it odd that he did not spend any time explaining the attack.

As soon as a warrior heard their area of expertise called, they headed off in that direction, not waiting for the remaining orders that did not pertain to them. To the warriors who were not archers or fliers, Sir Lambert pointed to each huddled group and sent them off to different sections of the castle.

Everyone had received their orders and was running to their positions, except for Steve, who stood alone with his back to the huge doors he had just come through. He started to follow behind the closest group of huddled warriors heading towards a back end of the castle. Right before they entered into a hallway to exit the lobby, a hand tightly grabbed Steve’s shoulder, forcing him to stop.