Movement IV: Battle Song

    “Haleth!” Haleth heard her name being called, but did not falter as she pressed the attack against Gelvar. “Haleth!”
    Malron burst into the room, panting raggedly. With one fluid move of her wrist, Haleth disarmed Gelvar as the latter stood back with a rueful grin on his face. She grinned back in reply, and handed the sword to him. There was little enough to smile about these days; it had been three months since Haldar’s wedding, and supplies were running low, so Malron let them banter for a moment longer. His news would shadow their mirth soon enough, which it did.
    “Haleth, you’re to attend the council of war immediately. The orcs have grown tired of their siege and seek to force us out of our walls. Don’t bother,” he said when she began to strip off her armor. “If you come in like a warrior, they’ll respect you more.” She nodded and followed her brother at a brisk walk into Haldad’s personal room.
    “Haleth, Malron,” Haldad greeted, then said, “Gelvar.” Haleth blinked in surprise; she had not noticed that Gelvar had trailed them here.
    There were only a few other men in the room, all warriors and commanders, and she recognized three others: Haldar, Arion, and Cullan.
    “Be seated,” Haldad said as she waved at Haldar and Arion, and inclined her head in a brief show of respect towards Cullan. All sat upon chairs about a table, and Haldad sat at the head with Haldar by his side to the left. Arion sat beside Haldar, and then there followed a long chain of people she did not know. Cullan was opposite Haldad, and Haleth hesitated when his father gestured towards her to sit at his right hand. Haldar frowned to see his privilege usurped, for traditionally, the position at his father’s right hand belonged to the heir, but he had been seated to the left while Haleth sat to Haldad’s right. Before he could open his mouth to protest, Haldad gave him one cool glance, and he swallowed his bitter words as Malron dropped gracefully into a chair beside Haleth.
    Haldad began by saying, “I believe that most, if not all, know the news already, but I will repeat it in brief. The orcs know that we cannot stay hidden here any longer. Our food and water is running out, and they have the advantage of numbers. They wish to end this war as swiftly as possible.” No one seemed surprised, and many nodded grimly in acknowledgement. “To put it bluntly, my friends, we are doomed.”
    At this, some of the younger men cried out, Arion and Haldar loudest of all, while older men narrowed their eyes and whispered amongst themselves. Haldad did not put a stop to the din; he realized that they needed to vent off their steam before he spoke again. Interestingly, he noted that only two people remained calm: Malron… and Haleth. And he knew then that Haleth should have been and should be his heir, for to Haldar, this was unexpected, while Haleth had evidently anticipated this long ago.
    He let the hubbub continue for long moments as Malron whispered to Haleth, who snorted and whispered back. Then she stood and waited to be formally recognized, but Haldad sat back in his seat to see how his daughter would handle the situation. Did she have the strength of character to bend these unruly warriors to her will?
    It was amazing, he reflected, what a din less than a dozen people could make, but slowly, they quieted when they saw Haldad’s daughter standing there with raised chin and unbowed back.
    “Begging your pardon, my lord, but we are not doomed,” she said with a cool that was not completely feigned. “The Eldar may yet come.”
    Cullan snorted. “We don’t even know where they are, much less whether they will march to our aid!”
    “They love the orcs as little as we do, Cullan,” she replied. “If they know of our plight, they will come. Send out messengers, my lord.”
    “How?” That question came from Gelvar, and Malron stood up to support Haleth.
    “Provide them with a diversion,” he said. “Strike at the orcs with all our strength, and in the confusion, a few men can escape.”
    “And if it seems possible, send out as many of the women and children we can,” Haleth added. “If children of the Haladin survive, our people live through them.”
    Haldad had to marvel at how well the two of them worked together, as if they had planned every bit of this beforehand. Haleth gave the main ideas, while Malron supported her. The armsmaster of the Haladin was well-respected, and all knew that he would not blindly follow another. By clearly following Haleth’s lead, all knew that Malron supported Haleth and that he believed her worthy of his support.
    “Many will die in such a bold move,” someone objected—and surprisingly enough, it was not Cullan.
    “We will all die a slow death if we do nothing,” Cullan answered as he pushed back his chair and the wood scraped upon the floor. He joined Haleth and Malron, although he did not stand close to them before saying, “This way, we have a chance to save the children. I agree with the Lady Haleth’s plan.” The bow he gave to Haleth was not—quite—mocking, and Haleth returned an equally not-quite-mocking bow in return. The others started at one another in amazement. Cullan had actually agreed with Haleth?
    “My lord Haldad?”
    “I agree with your plan as well, but I would ask for confirmation first,” Haldad answered as calmly as he could, although his heart was near bursting with joy. If he fell in battle, he had the consolation of knowing that his people would remain in better hands than his. He had never been able to inspire confidence from neutral people, much less his enemies. “My friends?”
    The other warriors looked at each other in helplessness as Gelvar joined Haleth, and then Arion. Haldar hesitated, torn between his sister’s stirring counsel and his bitterness that she had been seated at Haldad’s right hand, but when she offered one hand to him, he took it and stood beside Haleth. There were thirteen people in the room, and five stood with Haleth—Gelvar, Arion, Haldar, Cullan, and Malron, and Haldad had already shown his support for her plan. While they did not enjoy being led by a woman, neither did they wish to stand against the clear majority with their lord against them.
    Haleth saw this, and understood that she had not yet won these people to her side.
    Very well. I shall have to win their hearts during the battle. But she would take what support she could get, even reluctant support, for she needed every man she could get if she wanted to save her people. So she gracefully inclined her head to the six, never revealing that she knew their motives in casting their lot with hers.
    “Thank you for your trust in my counsel,” she said, carefully concealing the sarcasm that fought to break free. “I can only hope that I will be worthy of it.”
    There seemed to be nothing else to say, so Haldad dismissed everyone except for Haldar and Haleth. Malron lingered behind, until Haldar rudely snapped, “Leave, armsmaster. This does not concern you.”
    Haleth looked furious at this treatment of her blood-sworn brother and Malron raised a sardonic eyebrow, but Haldad beat them both to it.
    “Hold your fool tongue still!” he shouted, much as Haldar had once said to Haleth. “Malron is twice the fighter you will ever be, and the armsmaster. Without him, our keep would have fallen long ago. Ask for his pardon.”
    “I am sorry, armsmaster,” he growled, then said to his father, “But he has no permission to stay!”
    “Whether I do or not, I stay with my sister,” Malron answered, unruffled by Haldar’s temper.
    “Do as you will,” Haldad said, then turned to his son. “You disappoint me, Haldar,” he said coldly as Haldar’s usual friendly face twisted with jealousy and bitterness. “I thought you a better man.”
    “You favor her!” he shouted back. “You favor your daughter over your rightful heir! She is a woman and belongs in skirts, not in breeches, and not in men’s business! You gave her the bow, and you have given her freedom that I never had, and now you seat her at your right hand in a council of war! What am I to you, father? A discarded toy, now that Haleth is more fitting to be your heir?” he finished bitterly.
    “Haleth—”
    “Don’t lie to me, father,” Haldar snarled. “Do you think that I have not seen how much you have indulged her? You give her your bow, have her stand in your shadow for ceremonies, seat her at your right hand for meals, give her a command post—but to me, your firstborn and rightful heir, you give nothing!”
    “You are the firstborn son,” Haldad reminded him angrily. “Do not presume to judge me, Haldar! I am the one who decides who is fit to be heir—not you! Rank and birth alone does not confer titles, and in any case, Haleth is the elder by a few scant minutes. You disappoint me, Haldar,” he repeated. “Leave my presence until you can control your impulses and emotions, and if you show such rudeness to Malron again, I will personally have you disarmed and sent to serve the women like Kellan.”
    Haldar clearly wanted to storm outside, but managed to contain his rage enough to bow very slightly to Haldad before sending a glare full of hurt and shame at Haleth.
    I thought you loved me, the glance said, and it struck her to the heart, but she remained steady in her resolve. Haldar was not fit to take the leadership if he could not at least control his emotions.
    I do, Haldar, her glance replied, but I serve my people first and foremost. It seemed as if he could read her thoughts, for his eyes filled with tears at the rejection before he walked stiff-legged to the door and slammed it shut behind him.
    Haldad sighed heavily as he walked to a cabinet and pulled out two glasses and a wine bottle. Pouring himself some wine, he pushed the other cup to Malron and gestured for them to sit. Haldad usurped the most comfortable chair with a wan grin, and Malron sat down as Haleth sprawled on the floor beside him after she stripped off her armor.
    Haldad took a deep draught of wine and sighed. “I do not know what has come over him.”
    “I do,” Haleth said with some anger, and Haldad looked at his daughter in surprise. “He is in the position I once was—ignored in favor of the other.”
    “I never did that to you—”
    “Did you not? You made sure that Haldar knew himself as a warrior. I, however, was condemned to lie quiet in my bower and do as you bid me.” Haleth took a deep breath to calm herself and purge her spirit of her bitterness; that was long past now.
    “You never showed as much bitterness as Haldar did,” Haldad said after a long and uncomfortable silence, unwilling to deny the truth, but neither was he willing to acknowledge it.
    Haleth gave him a small smile filled with weariness. “I had years to reconcile myself to my fate; Haldar has had only days.”
    “And what should I do, then?” Haldad challenged. “Let him take charge of my people and lead them to their doom?”
    “No,” Haleth said as she rose to her feet, signaling Malron to stay where he was. “You cannot. All I ask is that you remain out of my way when I speak with him.”     Only the faint thump as she closed the door behind her told Haldad that his daughter was gone.
 
    “Haldar?”
    “Haleth,” her twin greeted as she walked inside his house; thankfully, Janya was not inside. He was remarkably in control for a man who had nearly been in tears. His eyes were red, though, and Haleth spared a moment to pity him.
    She sat down beside him, and suddenly held him to her. “Oh, Haldar,” she whispered as he wept. “It’ll be all right. Father still loves you.”
    Amazingly, he did not push her away, but clung to her, and it reminded her of the days when they had both been children and come to each other for comfort.
    After what must have been a quarter of an hour, Haldar pulled away and wiped his eyes. “Thank you, Haleth,” he said, his voice hoarse from his weeping.
    She merely inclined her head to him, and rose to leave to give him time to pull his dignity together.
    “And Haleth?” She turned to him again with one hand on the doorknob, and waited as he drew in a deep breath. “Haleth, you’ll make a great leader of the Haladin as I will not.”
    Before she could reply, her fingers had opened the door of her own volition and Haldar firmly closed the doors. Her eyes were swimming with tears as she returned to Malron’s hall, and she did not resist when Malron offered her his shoulder to weep upon.
 
    “Fire,” Haleth commanded, and a rain of arrows flew over the walls in response. Her archers heard the screams of injured and dying orcs, but none showed pity. Again and again, she gave the command to fire, and arrows swept over the battlements to kill yet more orcs. But her focus was nothing more than a mask of her abstraction and worry.
    It had been a week since the council of war, and in that week, they had been completely pinned inside the keep. Haleth hoped that the messengers had reached the Eldar; they were running out of supplies. If the Eldar did not come, the Haladin were doomed to die alone and forgotten. She grimaced; once, she had thought that only she would be subject to that fate. Now, her entire people would.
    Suddenly, the gates to the keep opened, and Haleth swore, ignoring everyone’s shocked stares. This had not been part of the plan!
    She saw Haldad at the head of an ordered company of warriors, and recognized Cullan and Kellan beside him. Gelvar and Arion were further behind, and her blood chilled when she saw Malron as well. He had said that he never went on raids, for the armsmaster must survive to train her people. That he marched out meant only one thing—even if the Eldar came, they would not come in time to save the Haladin.
    The other archers were stirring and whispering, and she snapped out a command for silence. Her eyes roved among them, looking for who else could fight with a sword. There were none; all the boys were under fourteen, and the graybeards far too old. She nearly wept in desperation—and then her eyes fell upon the women.
    She took a deep breath, then gestured for one of the graybeards to come over. “Take the command,” she hissed, and before he could protest, ran to the women. It might be a stupid gamble, but it might also be the stupid gamble to save her people.
    Lady Bríani stood at the head of the women, her cool green eyes assessing Haleth’s agitation. For once, she showed no disdain towards Haleth, and even extended a hand in welcome.
    But Haleth had no time for polite niceties, and asked, “How many of you are willing to fight alongside your husbands and your brothers? How many of you are willing to march to the aid of Haldad?”
    Bríani blinked in surprise. “You cannot ask that we follow your unwomanly example.”
    “I can and will,” she snapped back. She heard shouts as the Haladin engaged in combat with the orcs, and desperately tried to ignore her nagging fears. “Your husbands will die, your brothers fall if you do not aid them. Look!” She swept one hand behind her, and indeed, many of the women looked. “Courageous and valiant though they are, how can the Haladin survive against as these sheer numbers? Who comes with me?” she asked, drawing her sword from her sheath in a purely melodramatic gesture.
    She was heartened enough when she saw Bríani calling out commands as many of the able women streamed towards the armor and weaponry, while others determinedly strode towards medical kits. Janya remained behind, twisting her white sleeve in anxiety. She stepped close to her brother’s wife, and patted her on her shoulder, waiting to see what news Janya brought.
    “Haleth, I’m pregnant,” she whispered. Contrary to what she expected, she did not look happy at all, and after a moment, Haleth realized why. What mother would want her child to be born under these circumstances?
    “Stay behind with the healers,” Haleth said. “You can’t fight.”
    “That’s what Haldar said too. I hoped that you might gainsay him—”
    She barely resisted the impulse to shake the headstrong woman. “You will die if you try to fight in this condition! Use the mind that you were gifted with! Do you want your unborn child to die as well?” Janya mutely shook her head, and before Haleth could say anything more, she scurried out of sight towards the healers.
    Haleth heaved a sigh before checking her own armor straps and her sword. Her lips dried as the full enormity of her crazy plan came crashing down upon her, and she licked them before rubbing at her eyes. She was about to lead women who had never received training into battle, to fight, to bleed, to die. When Bríani rushed past her, she opened her mouth to speak, and Bríani stopped, perhaps sensing her hesitation. This is it. One word and I can stop this. But she could not force herself to speak. When Haleth did not say anything, Bríani inclined her head in respect and continued on her way, and the moment was lost forever.
    A few of the stronger ones had taken up swords, but due to the lack of good arms, most improvised their weapons. One woman whom Haleth vaguely recognized as the mother of five children was determinedly brandishing a kitchen knife that she had fastened onto a stout stick. Someone else had fashioned a mace from a stone pounder used to grind seeds. Yet even armed with these unorthodox weapons, every single one of them had determination and fierce pride that they might aid the warriors.
    But before they marched to the men’s aid, Haleth paused to study the situation outside. The men were holding out well enough, although Haldad was sore pressed and beset by orcs. She breathed easier when he drove back his foes a moment later. But as she turned to lead the women out, she realized that she did not see Haldar anywhere. Even as she opened her mouth to shout for him, he appeared out of nowhere and tapped her on one shoulder. Although he was not armored, his sword hung at his side, as did the dagger he had received for his namingday.
    “I’ll go too,” he said. “Father asked me to stay behind in case the Eldar came, but if it’s so bad the women go out to fight, I’ll not stay.”
    Haleth nodded as Haldar took one last glance at the battle and screamed.
    “Father!” he screamed, his voice full of pain and rage and hatred. “Father!”
    Haleth spun around and screamed as well, a wordless shriek that echoed Haldar.
    Haldad had a great gash across his stomach, and blood gushed out even as another orc slashed his arm. For one moment, it seemed that he would rise and ignore this injury as he had myriad others, and indeed raised his sword against his opponent. With a mighty effort, he slew the orc with a thrust to the heart, then fell to his knees. The foul creatures swarmed over his body, howling in triumph as Haldad collapsed.
    “Fall back!” Haldad roared, somehow still alive. But before he could say anything more, he coughed and his shout choked off.
    “He can’t be dead,” Haldar was whispering to himself. “He mustn’t!”
    Cold rage consumed Haleth as she, too, denied that she had seen Haldad fall. Falling doesn’t always mean death in battle, she tried to reassure herself. But her fighting calm descended down upon her and she viewed the rest of the battle with detachment.
    Arion and Gelvar were fighting as well as ever, grimly holding their place against all orcs. They did not seem to have noticed that Haldad had fallen. Cullan and Kellan were fighting back to back, and they, too, did not see Haldad fall, too engrossed in the fighting to notice. Malron was fighting like a madman, his lips bared in a terrible, demonic smile, tears streaming down his face as he hacked his way through to Haldad’s body. There was no semblance of the fine subtlety and skill he had taught Haleth, only mindless ferocity and unbearable grief as he took out his rage against the orcs.
    She heard footsteps behind her as Haldar dashed away, but when she turned to follow him, she heard another shout as the orcs surged towards Cullan and Kellan.
    “March out to Cullan and Kellan!” she shouted to the women. Although she longed to rescue her father from the orcs, Cullan and Kellan clearly needed more aid. The gates swung open once more and the women rushed out, somehow in an orderly column.
    As she anxiously looked for Haldar, something told her to look at where Haldad had—
    She rubbed her eyes angrily, refusing to acknowledge the possibility that Haldad might be dead, and instead concentrated on finding Haldar.
    He was fighting even more ferociously than Malron, slaughtering all the orcs in his path. As he finally reached Haldad, he cast away his sword and examined his father even as Malron reached his side and fought the orcs away.
    Haldar’s cry pierced Haleth to the heart. “He’s dead, Haleth! Our father’s dead!”
    She shook her head in mute denial. She could not have heard that cry.
    She stumbled out the gates in a daze as the doors clanged shut behind her.

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