Chapter 15: To each of their own

This was the first time Moira felt cold during her stay in Madukat. The weather in Zard was supposed to be warmer than the Broken Shore of Neirra and it was still fall here. Winter has not yet come to this land. And yet, she felt cold. There was something like an edge within this darkness that unsettled her. A Northern wind blew, and it rustled the withered ivy vines on the Great Wall while bringing ill noises with it.

“Bring the lord out.”

“Tell him to open the gate.”

Bloodshot eyes flashed with angers under the red glow of flickering torches. Pitchforks and hoes nosily rattled on the ground in undiluted fury. Axes, butcher knives, scythes and pick axes waved in the air in a maddening frenzy amidst the dancing shadows reflecting on the streets of Madukat. A burly man leaded that crowd, his gray and beardy face twisted with anger every time he shouted his one liner which prompted the entire crowd to follow. The crowd hysterical yelled and shouted, chanting for the Warden of Madukat to surrender to the notorious bandit lord.

They are here for blood, Moira intuitively understood that while looking at that angry mobs from atop the Great wall.

“Get back,” yelled the guards, obviously unnerved by the angry mobs before them and raised the point of their halberds at the crowds. Behind them were the terrified guests in their assorted and luxurious costumes who were invited to the feast by the Warden, cornered by the closing gate to great wall.

“Tell him to surrender,” the crowd chanted, completely unintimidated by the point and pressed forward.

Then what followed after that was beyond Moira’s understanding. A halberd tore through the shoulder of that beardy man who leaded that angry mobs. He groaned painfully, dropped to the ground alongside his clanking axe and torch. He clutched his wound as that halberd tore free of his shoulder, his blood dyed his grey shirt red and wetted the dusty floor. The mobs became still, an eerie silence swallowed them whole and all of sudden, hell broke loose.

Axes and pick axes rose, hoes thrashed, pitchforks stabbed and rocks flew right at the guards. That mob dove at the guards, their madness consumed their senses.

“Line,” a guard shouted and all the guards at the scene stood in formation, pointing their halberds at the crowd, “Thrust,” torches and tools rolled off, clanking on the floor, “Draw,” red blood wetted the ground, entrails came, spilling out with the retracting blades, “Thrust,” and the cycle repeated itself.

Moira stood and watched in horror as men and women dropped to their knees, screaming and shouting, clutching their wounded chests or their spilling out entrails. She felt like her stomach boiled and put her hand on her mouth, these people were no bandits, they were peasants, citizens of his Lordship the Warden, how could they do this?

Her legs felt weak and Moira leaned on the wall. As she slumped against the wall, her hand broke a withering vine.

“My lady,” Sir Erik Griffinclaw grabbed Moira’s hands to support her.

“What madness is this Erik?” Moira muttered, stained with horror and confusion, “These are his subjects, his people, and yet…,” her voice trailed off.

The pitchforks and hoes were too short to deal with the long halberds. The butcher knives, the axes, the scythes, the pickaxes and other farming tools that miners and farmers could put their hands on could not create any threat in the hands of people who knew no combat for their entire lives.

And before Moira could do anything to stop that madness, it has dissolved on its own. That mobs broke off on their own like a bunch of ants got caught in the rain, leaving behind a bunch of corpses and a bunch of soon-to-be corpses in an enlarging sticky red swamp in their trail.

A guard had an axe stuck within his chest, looked painful, it’s only when he plucked it out without twisted his face in pain that Moira realized that he was unhurt. The rest of the guard had no casualty, just some minor injuries. Their iron helmet and padded armor that featured a golden bear on white background protected them. And the guests of the Warden who were returning home, they were clutching their stomach, leaned against the wall and threw up.

“These guards, it appears to me that they are very used to this sort of thing,” Erik grimly said.

“But those people, they are not bandits,” Moira weakly stated.

“They aren’t, my lady,” the old knight grumpily affirmed, “Come inside my lady, you should look at this no further,” he said and gently escorted Moira back to the Warden’s manor.

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When Moira and the old Erik returned to the great hall of the Warden, the golden hall looked like it was recently under attack. His servants and slaves were cleaning after the mess, changing the golden carpets and cleaning up all the plates, goblets, and flagons rolling on the floor along with all the excess food and leftover wine.

That flickering of orange lanterns and braziers somehow created an oppressive atmosphere within the hall.

The Warden still disinterestedly sat on his large golden throne, a large golden goblet on his right, a silver flagon on his left. And he drank unconcernedly while his guard captains stood before the throne arguing about their plans to defend the city against Bloodbeard and his army of bandits.

“Lord, please tell me your decision,” Girout bowed to the Warden, the back of his white robe darkened with his own sweats.

“What are you making this fuss about? There is no way a mere bandit could take down this city,” the warden drained all the wine in his goblet with a single gulp and refilled it himself.

“My lord, they have taken down the outer western wall. It’s only a matter of time that they would take this city. My lord, you have to go out and look at it for yourself. This is a concerning matter about the survival of every man and woman in this city,” Girout informed his lord with a sense of urgent in his voice.

“My lord, please give me two thousands of your men, we will use grappling hooks to climb out of the city through the Eastern Wall tonight to attack Bloodbeard and his bandits in their camp. They would have never expected that. One battle is all I need to put this siege to an end,” the youngest looking guard captain said, his well-polished helmet in his hands. His flamboyant spiky hazel hair really caught Moira’s eyes for some reason. His ears were big, each was pierced by a dozen of glistering silver earrings.

“No, lord, please don’t listen to him. Please listen to me instead. They have no mean to breach the Inner wall even with their trebuchet. That’s why we should pretend to barricade that breach with wooden fences, but make it shoddy and simple by the look. That will encourage those foolish bandits to attack through that breach, once they enter Madukat through the breach, our men will feather those stinking bandits to the last one with our arrows,” the tallest man among all the guard captains argued. He was a man of domineering presence. A long scar ran across his crooked nose, adorning the man with a fearsome apparition along his thin and long limbs.

“Lord, no, those are not wise choices. I suggest that we should fake our surrender and invite Bloodbeard’s men inside. Once they are inside, you could use gold and status to sway them to our course and make them betray Bloodbeard. Once those men confirm that it’s safe and that stupid bandit lord goes inside the wall, our men will capture him alive,” the oldest looking guard captain suggested. It was hard to guess the man’s age, but If Moira had to guess from his long and full white beard, he could be older than Erik.

Lord this, lord that, the men argued among themselves in front of that greasy pig of a man, and in the end, “You people tire me with your argument. Girout, take care of this matter for me,” the Warden of Madukat held his head, excusing his men that he was tired and retreated to his bed chamber.

And the hall was overwhelmed with an overwhelmingly intoxicating disappointment.

“You heard him,” Girout sighed, scratching his sweaty bald head.

“This is madness,” the youngest looking guard captain angrily slammed his shiny helmet to the floor, surprised all the slaves and servant girls who’s still cleaning the hall.

“The great bear of Northern frontier has sired a stupid pig,” the tallest guard captain hissed, gritting his teeth.

“Insolent fool, you dare to disrespect the lord,” Girout shouted, pointing his finger at the tall man, completely unintimidated by his domineering physics.

“What kind of lord he is to neglect his people and his city in such dire hour?” the tall man did not back down, shouted right back at Girout.

“Stop wasting our time arguing among ourselves. There are bandits surrounding these walls. We must come up with plans to deal with them first,” the oldest guard captain stepped in between the two and separated them, placing his palms on the men’s chest to push them away from each other.

Moira and Erik watched the men debated among themselves of which plan they should take. Soon, the leader of the Inquisitors and paladins from the Kingdom of White Winter joined the arguing men for the discussion. He told Girout and the guard captains that his magic casters will wholeheartedly support their plan whatever it was.

Moira tried to join the group, wishing that she could be some help to the city. She had a dozen knights and two dozen of guardsmen under her command, not a large fighting force, but these men were all trained by Erik. They were better than most guards and knights in term of skill. However, her wish was instantly denied.

“This is a man’s job, my lady. Please stay inside your room and leave this to us,” the youngest guard captain said. His eyes rolled, ridiculed the notion of receiving help from Moira.

“My noble lady, you are the honor guest of our lord. It would be a slight on our honor to leave this matter to your hand. Please return to your room and rest assure,” the oldest guard captain replied dutifully, bowing.

“My lady, this is not a job for a noble lady like you. Please leave it to the men,” said the tallest man.

“No disrespect my lady, you are still the sister of future queen of Silver Snow. If something happen to you, my lady, I and this city cannot take the full responsibility for that,” Girout sweated profusely as he bowed and rejected Moira’s offer.

And Moira has never been so angry in her life, that ‘what are you doing here? You are just a woman,’ look on their face showed.

“My lady, please control yourself,” Erik quietly advised, as dutiful as ever. He understood Moira’s temperament better than most people.

“I pray for your success,” Moira raised the hem of her dress, bidding the men her goodbye. She sharply turned and stomped away with seething fury.

“If you gentlemen wish to defend this city, you should send scouts to search for some kind of dwarven siege engine among the bandits or artifact or magic casters. I saw those bandits, they have no mean to siege these walls other than that ridiculous boulder launcher of theirs. Get rid of that, you gentlemen has already won this battle.” Erik immediately followed Moira’s angry footsteps, not before offering them his wisdom.

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The moment Moira has reached the long corridor that lead to her room, her anger exploded.

“What kind of hour is this and they are still care about man and woman? Can those fool take a blast of my magic and live? You are a woman, stay inside your room. Are those fools insane?” Moira stomped the floor angrily as she hissed, then she noticed her knight captain in deep thought, “What are you thinking Erik?”

“I’m working on a plan. I think we can break through the bandit blockage at the North gate and return to our kingdom,” the old knight replied while stroking his stubby white beard.

“What? Why?” confused words escaped Moira’s lips as she stared at the old knight.

“Why are you asking that kind of question my lady? Do you think I would stand and watch you trapped inside this city when these walls yield to bandits?” the old knight snapped, staring at Moira with angry eyes.

“That’s not… You don’t even care about my opinion when I was wedded to that pig of a man. You could object that decision of my stupid brother but you didn’t. Why do you care now?” Moira was at a loss of word for a moment, then her anger overflown.

“My lady, that’s your responsibility as a lady of house Farrington. And as long as you are a lady of house Farrington, you must fulfill your responsibility to the house and the kingdom. Who am I to object to that?“ The old knight emotionlessly replied

“Responsibility, does that word mean everything to you?” Moira seethed.

“That’s everything to me, my lady. I’m the knight of house Farrington first and your chief knight second. My loyalty to the house precede my loyalty to you my lady. If that displease you, I could only beg for your forgiveness,” the old Erik monotonously replied, giving Moira a knight salute, bowing with his right hand crossed his left chest.

“You really are a stubborn old fool,” Moira gritted her teeth, frustrated, then she sighed resignedly, “Forget it, so you think this city will be lost to the bandit?” she questioned.

“Without a doubt, my lady. It will not happen tomorrow or the day after that, but it definitely will,” Erik replied coldly.

Moira stared at Erik, surprise by his uncharacteristic cold and aloofness. This Erik felt like a different person from the nagging old knight Moira knew “And why is that?”

“I heard from the guards that the devil called Bloodbeard was a cautious man. The last time he sieged this city, he merely tested the power of his magic casters’ spells against the wall. Once he saw that he could not win, he simply retreated without a fight,” Erik stroke his beard again.

“Go on,”

“This time, he daringly lays siege to this city and even dare to split his army to surround it. He must have a plan in mind. That’s mysterious siege engine of his is just a part of his plot,” Erik sighed, his agitation and frustration was visible.

“What do you mean?” Moira could not understand the old knight’s thought and pressed for the answer.

“Have you noticed that the North gate of Madukat has drawbridge but the South gate doesn’t? This kind of defensive structure encourage large army to focus their entire power to siege it from the southern side where they can use battle-ram to open the gate. Whoever design this fort city had absolute trust that the southern gate would not fall, he had probably never dreamed that there would be a day where a siege engine could tear down these wall.”

“What does it have anything to do with Bloodbeard? I don’t understand.”

“If Bloodbeard is a man with insight, he would have used his siege engine to take down the southern wall and the gate instead of the western wall. His men would not have to swim across that large moat to get into the city. Even though, he would not be able to capture this city this way. There is still the second wall and the third wall. He should know that.”

“Oh,” Moira immediately realized the strange part of this siege. A cautious and calculated man would have done it the way Erik suggested “Can you guess what his plan is?”

“I don’t my lady, and that’s why I don’t like it. The more I think about it, the less it makes any sense to me,” Erik sighed.

“Don’t you think you might have value this Bloodbeard too highly? You have not even meet him,” Moira asked. She really wished that Erik was wrong.

“That man orders his minions to surround the city and form blockage at the North gate and South gate instead of simply charge through that breach on the Western wall. He knows that he would have failed if he tries to force it. That’s why he gave an ultimatum to the warden, making him surrender. This is just a mind game, my lady. He must have a plan. I’m willing to bet my head that he could not care less about the lord’s answer and resumed the siege with his siege engine tomorrow anyway.”

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As soon as Moira and Erik had that conversation, he gathered all of his men to his room, discussing the escape plan with them.

Moira did not allow herself to miss something so exciting and important.

Erik intended to look for some blacksmiths within this city wall tomorrow and ordered some horse armors and shields. However, the lack of men and fighting power worried him. He intended to sell off the remuneration gifts received from the Warden to hire mercenaries and fighters within this wall to break through the blockage using a shock cavalry tactic.

The knights and the guardsmen trained by Erik voiced their dissension immediately. If he succeeded in his recruitment, he could gather at most 100 men and horses. And that’s about 4000 bandits at the North Gate. There was no way that Erik could break through that many with so little men and horses.

And the old knight smiled mischievously. He agreed, “It is impossible, yes, I would have thought the same had I never seen the dwarven king Admundor’s cavalry in battle for my entire life.”

Moira and the men immediately knew that Erik was reminiscing his experience of the Hundred Years war. Unlike the old knight, their generation only knew of the Hundred War through stories that told by the hearth or songs that were sang by minstrels and bards.

The legendary dwarven king Admundor the Third was an ally of Silver Snow kingdom, when the coalition of Zard and White Winter invaded Silver Snow’s western border, king Admundor the Third honored his ancestor’s oath to an ancient king of Silver Snow, crossing the North Sea with one hundred of his largest warships and two hundred cargo ships to join the battle. Each of the warships carried fifty horses, fifty dwarves and fifty war-chariots.

Thirty thousand men of White Winter and Zard army Coalition met against five thousands dwarves and 11000 men from Silver Snow on the Weeping Plain.

And on the Weeping Plain, the foreign dwarven king became a hero in the history of Silver Snow. As soon as the battle began, he raze through twenty thousand soldiers of the Zard and White Winter Coalition from the front with his 5000 dwarven chariot cavalry. In the end, Admundor the Third even killed the head of that Coalition, crushing that unfortunate general underneath the stained red wheels of his royal chariot. And since the Weeping Plain was renamed “The Field of Admundor” as a tribute to the foreign dwarven king’s victory.

After that battle, Admundor sailed back to his country, refusing to invade Zard or White Winter to retaliate against their invasion. Nobody understood why he made that decision against the benefit of his country. Both Zard and White Winter have been weakened, they could not stop the mighty wheels of the dwarven king, why wouldn't him take this chance to empower his country? Nobody but that dwarven king knew the answer.

Erik was planning to emulate that dwarven king’s famous victory at the Weeping plain. However, he possessed no dwarven chariot, the young knights under Erik’s command reminded him, and the old knight smiled, “Of course, we will make them,” his eyes sharpened like that of a bird of prey.

An old Griffin is still a Griffin. His claws and talons might be dulled, but he grows wiser with his age.