WORRLGENHALL (121 page)

 
      His commanders driving purpose, personal, and one he would only reveal bits and pieces of, other than those from Worrlgen destroyed his village forcing him to flee. The kingdom would forever be a source of resentment for him that he would dedicate his life in seeing destroyed.

 
      “Well, we shall wait.”

**

       One third of the foot soldiers and two commanders ordered to remain within the former kingdom of Celgon, Belon sent Cyorec and his men back to WorrlgenHall to aid them in any way possible.

 
      “Grecia,” Aderac suddenly blurted, as they rode west to aid those from Worrlgen.

 
      “Who is that?”

 
      “That was my grandmother’s name.”

 
      Belon smiled. “And I gather is the new name for Celgon?”

 
      “How does it sound off the tongue?”

 
      “Anything off your tongue sounds pleasing, and is.”

 
      Aderac blushed, remembering just nights before he did indeed please Belon with his tongue.

 
      “Let us ride,” Belon said, spurring his horse forward. “Enek should only be a half a day ahead.”

**

       The sky painted orange and red, when the sun began gradually to sail into slumber the determined keen look in Baric’s eyes began to blur.

 
      As he fought, he suddenly looked startled at the man in front of him when suddenly he split into three; then as he shook his head rapidly until he became one man again, he sliced into him.

 
      After the man fell dead at Baric’s feet, a chill sweep across him, and a feeling all to familiar returned.

 
      “Ogorec,” Baric called to him, now felling sick to his stomach and woozy.

 
      Barely able to answer, Ogorec managed a grunt.

 
      “How much ale did you drink?” Baric groaned.

 
      “…t...tw...two cups,”

 
      Remembering, he drank very little while he talked with Ogorec, who had drained both cups. Baric knew Ogorec would feel the full and possibly deadly effect.

 
      “Laad!” Baric called out. His own body swaying while he watched Ogorec suddenly slump.

 
      Laad was by his side in a matter of a blink, and Loth in two blinks.

 
      “What has happened, King?” Laad said, as he went down to one knee.

 
      “We have been poisoned.”

 
      “What did you drink?”

 
      “Ale, some is still in my skin pouch.”

 
      Loth sprang into action. Rushing over to Baric’s horse to get it, then once back in front of him, he pulled the bung out and smelled it, but nothing smelled strange. “Did you eat any same thing?”

 
      “No.” Baric groaned.

 
      “It has to be the ale.” Loth knew.

 
      About to pour it out, Laad stopped him. “We will need it.”

 
      “We have a traitor.” Loth’s blood boiled.

 
      Slowly, Laad’s eyes rose looking to his left and right at the men around him, not once moving his head. “Carry the king and Ogorec back behind the slings,” he ordered, “Put them in a tent and have-”

 
      Laad looked at Loth, his eyes asking him who to trust.

 
      “Gret, Vindal, and Yergic,” Loth whispered.

 
      “Have Gret,Vindal, and Yergic guard them.”

 
      “What shall we do?” Loth asked, as he stood close to Laad, still whispering.

 
      “Root him or them out.”

 
      No sooner than he spoke, suddenly high guilds to low guilds began to double over from stomach pain, swagger, or slump.

 
      “Pull back!” Laad yelled.

 
      The horn peeled and men pulled back, some of them barely able to escape with their lives.

**

       When he heard the horn, then groans, and sounds of men vomiting, King Gegorad laughed pleased at the sight of guilds leaning from the side of their horses vomiting as they pulled back.

 
      Approvingly, he nodded. The man, who had been his commander for over ten winters, verified by the vomiting men of Worrlgen that he indeed had skill for making subtle poisons.

 
      “It is now,” he finally told Commander Alden.

 
      With a determined purpose of their own, the Hemrock warriors charged forward, as now the gruels and footman took over the fighting, to keep them from breaking through the lines.

 
      Back in the camp, Baric lay on his side vomiting, while Ogorec trembled violently in a bed across from him on his back.

 
      “Have any died yet from the poison?”

 
      “A few have fallen.”

 
      “You have sole command,” Loth said to Laad. “The king’s head is no longer able to reason in his state.”

 
      Laad looked at the pouch, then thought of the night before.

 
      “We did not want to drink,” he spoke his thoughts aloud, knowing he and Loth would be in the same state as Baric and Ogorec, along with the guilds.

 
      “I was in no mood and you had other worries,” Loth commented.

 
      Both men looked at each other.

 
      “Who served the ale?” Laad asked first.

 
      Only minutes later after asking the question, Laad scowled at two gruels forced to his feet. “Did you poison the ale?”

 
      “No!” the two cried out their innocence, although certain death was imminent.

 
      Something about their eyes, or rather surprise, shock, and sympathy in them for the king and the guilds seemed to strike Laad that they spoke the truth. If they did such a deed, why would they care, or better yet, why had they not fled?”

 
      “Did you leave the ale for any reason?”

 
      “A man came up to me as I got the barrel out of the wagon,” one answered, “And asked for my help lift a large box.”

 
      Laad looked at the other man. “And where were you?”

 
      “I was on the other side, taking out dried meat.”

 
      “Who was the man?”

 
      “He was cloaked, I could see his face… but”

 
      “But what…”

 
      “I knew he was one of the high guilds by his wristband carvings.”

 
      Only guilds with carvings in their wristbands those who fought in at least five battles, at least it narrowed down the culprit.

 
      “It was one of the higher guilds.” Loth fumed.

 
      “You know all when it comes to the men,” Laad sought Laad’s ever-knowing knowledge of disgruntled men.

 
      “Whoever it is seems to have held his tongue well.”

 
      “Or is it that he has not, and we have overlooked him?”

 
      When Ogorec groaned and vomited, Laad called for one of the gruels to tend to him.

 
      “Should I call for the priests?” the gruel suggested, but when both men gave him a scowl without answering him, he lowered his head and silenced.

 
      “Let us step outside for more words.”

 
      As they were about to walk out of earshot of anyone to talk more, Laad noticed Adeon standing staring blankly.

 
      “Is something wrong Adeon,” Loth asked.

 
      “Such dread if I am wrong, but I know who could be behind this.”

 
      Loth put his fingers over his lips as a sign for him not to say another word, but follow him and Laad, then once they got alone he urged him reveal all he knew.

 
      “We you commanded us to ride out and follow King Gegorad on his return,” Adeon revealed. “As we watched, Osgorad’s mood seemed strange. He spoke that his stomach pained him and that he needed to go relieve himself. He was gone for a long time, and when he came back, I heard his pouch jingle, which I did not hear before he left.”

 
      Not waiting for him to finish, Loth rushed off. “Where is Osgorad?”

 
      “Neither he, nor his brother have I seen for most of the day,” a man answered.

 
      Now gathering they were behind the treachery Loth became so angry his jaw clenched making his teeth ache, and he rushed back over to Laad. “Osgorad and his brother Egan are behind this deed.”

**

       The gruels and footmen held the men of Hemrock at bay, although, not very long, as the horse guard and footmen charged up the gradual slope with Alden in the lead brutally cutting down those less experienced.

 
      “They are breaking through, sound the horn!”

 
      When Laad heard the horn, he rushed to a mound and looked down at the gruesome spectacle.

 
      “It is time to reason as would a king?” Loth commented, as he climbed the mound to look down with him.

 
      Laad noticed one in the midst vain enough to decorate his horse charging up the slope and gathered he was one important, but couldn’t see his face because it was covered. “Look at that one!”

 
      “He is bold.” Loth commented.

 
      “More so foolish.”

 
      After noticing the vain one, Laad took out his bow and nocked his arrow; then as the man wielded his sword and killed one of the footmen; about to kill another Laad released it.

 
      Again, as if destined another of Laad’s arrows, just as the one that killed the man who stabbed Orem in the throat, seemed guided by an unseen force.

 
      It gracefully sailed across the stilled sky, landed in Alden’s cheek on the left side and came out the backside of his ear.

 
      Somehow still alive, he fell off his horse to the ground pleading for help, which he soon got from a gruel, who helped him on his way into the afterlife.

 
      Noticing the ferocity of how the men,
his men
, fought Laad filled pride and like an unleashed storm let it pour out onto the men, in his voice.

 
      “Men of Worrlgen, you will not fall or fail!” His thunderous peal into each man’s ear, “You will not die! You cannot die! You are men of a powerful kingdom, and you will make all know it and tremble in fear!”

 
      His very words seemed to embolden the gruels and footmen to fight as if each had the strength of ten men combined.

 
      When Alden fell from his horse and the gruels cut him to pieces, the men on either side of him gasped shock, before some turned to retreat, while others still fought, and when King Gegorad saw it, just as he had done from the first day of battle, showed his cowardice.

 
      Quickly, he turned to flee, resolved he’d wage war against Worrlgen again someday, but halted when he saw a great stir of dust in the sky moving towards his direction.

 
      “I hear the sounds of battle,” Hyal commented, following Enek, who had already charged ahead.

 
      As Enek, Hyal, and the men rounded the ridge by the neck of the river, Enek caught sight of a colorful chariot fleeing in the distance.

 
      “I gather that is the King of Hemrock tired of battling,” Enek said sarcastically.

 
      “He is within the aim of a spear,” Hyal commented.

 
      “Aim it at his chariot man.”

 
      Hyal did just that, and as he fell forward dead, just as Enek gathered would be the chain of events the chariot overturned and flipped the king out of it.

 
      Landing on his head, he was unconscious when they caught up with him, but still breathing, so several men picked him up and strapped him across a horse, then after they fought and killed the few that were fleeing with him, continued.