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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