Dathari II Allegiance Ch. 5

Chapter 5
The cold, gray Hirian Kirath range stood before them.
The path faded from here, as the Invaders apparently scattered to cross the mountains. However, there were obvious footprints through the Deathcamp, the last resting-place of the Shalmathi tribe. It was there that the Shalmathi chose to destroy their camp instead of letting the virus that was killing them spread. Sadly, it failed, and the entire Shalmathi people were wiped out. The Datharian tribe was unaffected, though.
The group began the slow march up the sides of the mountains, staying alert for any sign of Sornian activity. Cital asked Alhon to keep Kimolthe sheathed, lest the light give away their position. He still carried his dagger, so he was never completely unarmed.
Most of the trip was silent enough to keep them from worrying about being captured, but it was still a dangerous proposition. Every one hundred steps, they stopped and tried to spot any of the Sornian camps that kept the forces at Shathon from passing. They were able to safely make it to the top of the hills, but kept low in case of spotters. There was no shrubbery. They heard a faint yell on one of the hills, and immediately a large torch was lit on it. Soon, other flame began cropping up, and the sound of troops began echoing off of the hills.
“Tharra, watch for incoming troops, and take them out early if you can.”  She nodded at him. “Nariya, Trinas, and Cital, you stay with me.”
Tharra cried, “Incoming!” They heard the whizz of arrows flying, and they all drew their swords, trying to protect Cital. Soon, Nariya came running up the hill, arrows flying past her.
“We’ve got to get off of these hills!” she yelled.
“Move everyone to the edge of the crest, and we’ll slowly make our way out. Protect Cital at all cost,” was Nariya’s order. They slowly began moving, trying to stay out of the way of arrows as Trinas and Tharra shot at the opposing archers. By the time they were halfway down the slope, Sornian foot soldiers began descending.
The Sornian squad had almost reached them when shouts from the hills were ringing again. This time, the Sornians seemed confused, wondering at these new calls. They slowed their run, but yet they kept coming. They group began running for the ground as fast as they could, dodging arrows the entire way. As they reached the ground, they saw what had caused those yells. Two Carren armies, trying to wipe out the establishments, flanked the Sornian squad.
“Come,” Cital yelled, “while they are distracted!” Not far in the distance they saw the graceful walls of the naval town Carren, forcing all who were inside to stay and wait out the siege.
The screams behind them came suddenly, and the Carren Army began chewing into the sides of the Sornian force. A few stragglers kept trying to chase the group, but were picked off by archers in the Army. Alhon, Cital, and the others continued their sprint to the Carren city gates. Within minutes the cheers of the victors rang out in the hills. Alhon smiled, then ran into the opening gate of Carren.

Adjacent to the hill of the great battle, the Sornian commander shook his head, cursing his troops for their ineptitude. The Carren Army was literally throwing his men around. As he ran back to the rear of the formation he kicked a helmet still containing the head of one of his squad commanders. Pitiful. He would have to talk to Kolai about that.
He yelled to his lieutenant. “Give the retreat order, and pull back to the safe spot, until further notice. I am expecting reinforcements.” The officer saluted and ran off. He raised his spyglass to his eyes again, and watched the retreating forms of the Ketaran king and his protectors entering the city of Carren. He smirked to himself. I can remove all of my troubles in one fell swoop. His employer had a bounty on King Vitaras’ head, but the commander wanted King Rithálion for himself. Soon, he told himself. Soon.

Although he had never been to Carren, it smelled the same way that he had imagined it: Fishy. The export of the native fish off of the Western Datharian coast meant that many of the citizens were consumed by the tiring job of boating, hauling nets, and cleaning fish. The oily smell permeated the entire city.
They walked through the main road, trying to talk to the soldiers, but they were too busy preparing for the return of the army. Finally Nariya yelled out, “We’ll do this my way.” She reached over and grabbed the armor of a passing soldier. “We are messengers from Mador, and we need to see the King. Where is he?”
“Over in the court building. You should be able to see the dome.”
“Thank you. Here’s something for your troubles.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out some type of stone.
“Hey, thanks!” He shoved it into his armor and then ran to join his squad.
“What was that?” Tharra asked.
“A little compensation. You need to learn how the world works, Tharra.” She winked.
“ I see.”

“Okay,” Alhon said, wiping tears out of his eyes caused by the smell, “let’s get going. Ond needs to know about the Sornians as soon as possible.” They walked down the twisting streets until the dome of the Courts was towering above them. They quickly hurried inside.
It was insane, with people running all around and others in lines trying to ask for information. Alhon grabbed one of the passing clerks. “Where is the King?”
“You have to get in line,” he replied. “I don’t know personally.” Frustrated, he let the man go and looked at the line.
There were a good forty people in front of them, and it was taking an enormously long time for each one to be served. “Forget this,” he muttered, and walked around the people.
“Hey,” the man in front yelled, “no shoving!” Alhon ignored him and walked up to the desk.
“Where might I find King Rithálion?”
“He’s not taking visitors,” the clerk said.
“Show me anyway. I am a member of the Datharian royal guard, and I have vital information relating to the war.”
“Alright… He’s up the stairs and in the Aboni Meeting room.”
“Thanks,” he said, and left the area. He told the others to follow, leading the way up the staircase and to the end of the hall. A plaque was displayed quite prominently above large double doors. While walking over to the hall, they were stopped by three guards in red robes.
“Halt! No one is allowed past this point!”
Alhon walked up and pulled out Kimolthe. “Oh,” one said. “Hello, Alhon.”
“Am I allowed in?” he asked.
“I would say yes, but he locked himself in, and we don’t have a key.”
“He can't ignore this.” Alhon knocked three times on the door. When there was no answer, he knocked again, continuing until he heard the lock turn. He stepped back as the door opened.
“Hello, Ond,” he said.
“Hello, Alhon. It’s been a while.”
“Yes. Too long.” There was a pause. “Well… How are you faring?”
“As good as can be expected. I’m drawing up battle plans, and pulling everything I have, including tales of legends. While the tale of the ancient ghost army of Kahnor was interesting, I do not expect to be saved by a legend such as that.”
“I may have found your ghost army.” Ond looked up in surprise.
“What do you mean?”
Alhon knelt down before Ond, saying, “My lord, may I present to you King Cital Vitaras, Ruler of the Ketaran Nation!”
Ond stared in shock. “I knew there had to be somebody, but I didn’t realize that you would be successful this fast.”
“And we didn’t know that Sornian forces would drive us out of our country, and into your hands,” Cital added. “I wish to ask for aid, and a temporary alliance against the nation of Sornia.”
“I assume that Sornia is the nation we are up against. That will be useful. As much as I would like to grant your request though, I feel that we would not be able to supply much aid. What we have left of the army is stationed here, and over half of the Royal Guard has been destroyed.” Alhon stared in shock. “The Guardsmen who were not on assignment were kept in Mador, normally. When the fires were set, the Guards ran to evacuate people and patrol the burning city from chaos. Sadly, not all of them survived.”
“I understand,” Cital said. “We have been preparing for this eventual war for many years in the past, and they will resort to anything to win. Ketar has lost many people and towns as a result of their brutality.”
“I am sorry for your losses, and I do not intend to be insulting, but we must finish this with as little loss as possible, even if it means death.” He let the matter hand.
“I will apply my forces, but right now I have no means of communicating with my commander. I cannot get a message back to Ketar. I fear that it is already overrun.” He turned to stare out the window. “We may have failed already.”

Sunset, Sunrise. A new day began, and it was the first one when the team was able to get a full night’s sleep, yet it was not sound. The city was increasingly nervous from the threat of the siege, but there was no outright aggression on the part of the Sornians. All the supply caravans were stopped, though, and the ships were slow in coming, when they did come.
As Cital, Nariya, and Trinas began to reveal what they knew about Sornia, the Datharian rulers saw that they were fighting an increasingly hopeless battle.
Ond was able to find rooms for them with some of the townspeople. They lodged at a small inn known as Kirhatha’s, and the innkeepers were pleased that they would be hosting such prominent ambassadors. Although Ond let Cital have his personal bedroom, Cital simply said, “My place is with my people. And right now, my people are in a house down the street.”
All of the Ketaran delegation was present at the war council, and Alhon and Tharra were invited in as guests. Among the Datharian planners was Hothenel, Malethia, and Haran Dethilion, a forum leader. While the delegation was talking over the waterways and the Ketaran ports, Alhon sat back and listened.
“It’s hopeless,” he said to no one in particular.
Tharra turned to him. “There is always hope. While we still have leaders, friends, and the will, there is still hope.”
He looked at her. “How?” For that she had no answer.
“We have brought these kings together. Let’s just be glad we could do that.” She smiled. “It’s not often you’ll find friends just out of the borders.” They began to listen in to the conversations.
Ond was saying, “There are a set of islands just to the west of the lands, the Kanoi Islands. I have begun sheltering refugees on them for now, because we cannot hold them all.”
“Is there enough room for all of your people?” Cital asked. “This looks like a small chain.”
Hothenel replied, “If we spread out and give up a few privileges, we should be fine. Compared to Ketar, we are tiny.”
“So I see.”
Ond continued. “As I said, I have already begun the evacuations. The impending siege will be devastating to our people if they have to be here for it.” He sighed and continued. “I have recalled the entire army – what’s left of it - to Carren. I fear that we will have to go through an attack before we can get everyone out.
“No, you haven't,” Alhon interjected. “Kelon is leading a small contingent of troops hiding in Shathon forest where we camped. He has several of the leaders of Mador hidden there, as well as a number of civilians. He practically has the old exile camp running at full strength, including the fear tactics around the edges of the woods. Sornians are afraid to breach the tree line.”
Ond's face lightened a little at the news. “That is good to hear, but we cannot trust that they will remain hidden indefinitely.” He lowered his eyes, but then brought them up with resolve. “We cannot contact Kelon under any circumstances, lest we risk exposing them. Once we return to Dathari, we can use his cell to provide a counter strategy.”
Malethia asked, “Ond, have you told the people that this is what remains of the army?”
Ond said solemnly, “No, I cannot risk fear and chaos. If we can do this as orderly as possible, then we must.” He stood up from the table and looked out of a window. “I am supposed to protect these people, but I have failed. These invaders will not be allowed the spoils of victory. Here will be the last stand. And I shall leave a mark on them that will make them tremble at the word ‘Dathari’. Even if I have to die for it.” He looked back at the council.
Cital stood up. “I know my active army consists of only three people, but we will stand by your side. It is time to let the Sornians know the meaning of friendship.”
Malethia stood up. “I will summon the remaining members of the Forum immediately and begin accepting volunteers for the battle. There are those out there who would help.”
Hothenel and Haran stood up. “The army we have here will suffice, assuming we are only providing cover for the retreat,” Haran said. “This must be our focus. For now, Dathari is lost, but it will not be forever!”

Three days passed. As soon as Malethia made her announcement, the people began preparing for the long voyages. Extra ships were being built hastily as the fleet returned for its last trip, dropping off supplies and the first settlers for what could possibly be the new home of the Dathari people.
Lists were made up on what people would sail when. There were a fair amount who stayed behind to enlist, but not many, as Haran had predicted. With the rest of the refugees hiding unknowingly in Shathon forest, there was noticeable tension in the air.
Alhon, Tharra, and the Ketarans were preparing for the battles in their own ways. Within the chambers of the rooms they were staying at, they each prepared for the slaughter that seemed to loom up against them. Alhon stretched and practiced, still going through his mental fight in the woods. However, the obsession that drove his sparring routines in the past was replaced by a dark weight of dread.
Nariya, Trinas, and Cital sparred with each other, and discussed tactics for leading the troops. Although the Datharian commanders would take precedence, the Ketarans were granted temporary positions as sergeants in the upcoming battle by Ond. Their experience in combat would be invaluable.
Another day passed, and then another. Still there was no movement in from the Sornians. The army was told to rest up and prepare, but to sleep lightly. The Sornians would strike at any moment.

The Sornian commander looked at the manuscript that the messenger had given him. It came from the desk of Prince Kastor himself.
“I am growing impatient at your lack of progress. Either deliver them to me now, or I will be forced to replace you. The attack on Ketar is beginning, and if we remove the incentive to fight back, it will be much easier.” He folded up the letter, took some flint, and lit the note on fire.
“Tell the troops to prepare. We have a war to win.”

It was the tenth day after the meeting. Around 75% of the populace were off the mainland, with the rest ready to go on that day, when the mountains seemed to ignite. The Carren guardsmen saw this and immediately ran through the streets, calling the troops to war. In a flash the Kings were up and began to dress for battle. As the Ketarans knelt down in a circle, Alhon threw on his mail and arm guards, as he had done many times in the past. He strapped Kimolthe behind his back and ran out the door to his position: on the front lines behind the Great Gate of Carren. Johal, his friend and commander was preparing the troops.
“You who stand as Dathari’s finest: this is our moment of glory! Yes, they will taunt and jeer, but when we rebuild the ruins of Mador, it is us who will be laughing! For all that you love and cherish, stand and fight! Do it for your families! Do it for your lovers! Do it for Dathari!!!” A resounding cheer went up, as the army turned to stare down the torches of the Sornians.
Johal walked over. “Nice job,” Alhon said.
“It was the best I could do on the moment,” he countered.
“You mean Johal Onterrone, the great hero of the Battle of Shathon and the Siege of Mador couldn’t do any better? I’m ashamed of you.”
“You know I’ve never done public speeches.” They lapsed into silence as they viewed the wall of flame approaching their city.
Sentries on the wall were watching, bows ready, wanting to take out the torches before the city could be lit. People began running through the streets as the soldiers lined up, ready for war. The ships in the harbor began boarding as many passengers as possible, and every dock worker was out, trying to evacuate the city. All through this the flames kept coming closer… closer…

“Help us,” Nariya muttered as she saw the wall of fire advancing. So, is this how it ends? She thought. Do we die here?
As if she read Nariya’s mind, Trinas came over, saying “We’ll make it through. We have so far. We can hold out for a siege.”
The archers raised their bows, the Sornians advanced, and the conflict began.

Inside his heart, Cital had never felt a fear quite like this. Here he was, the King of Ketar, leading what was an army of four, and now with 700 under his command. I’m not a fighter, he thought. What am I doing here?
From his position on top of the gate, he saw the vastness of the Sornian forces. A good 5,000 strong, the Army walked forward with a confidence, as if they had never been defeated.
Ond walked over from across the wall, wearing the royal armor of Dathari, with three red-robed Guards following. “Have you ever been in a battle such as this before?”
Gulping, Cital said, “No.”
“Well, then, this will be a new experience for us both.” He looked at Cital. “I have confidence we can pull this off.”
Feeling a strange calm, Cital replied, “As do I.”

Alhon heard the cries, waiting until the moment they began to break through the stone walls. The archers’ arrows were quickly depleting, and the wall of flame continued to advance. With a shout of “Incoming!” arrows began flying back over at the troops. The contingent broke ranks to avoid them, while the arrows fell harmlessly around them.
Men on the wall began crying “Ladders!” At the call, Johal began rallying his forces. “We must go up to assist! They have no troops up there!” He turned to Alhon. “Keep your men here in case it’s a feint. If they come through the gate, I won’t be able to help you.”
“I’ll keep them here until you get back!” he replied. He turned to his men, shouting, “This is what we came for! The hour of our fate is upon us!” A cheer rang up as Alhon’s men readied their weapons.
A shout came from behind. “The ships have left! The ships have left!”

Nariya heard the cry from her position across from Alhon. It was a welcome sound, since it meant that the last of the townspeople were off the peninsula. She heard Alhon’s rallying cry, and could see Johal’s army climbing the wall in preparation for the assault. She saw Trinas with her archers on the wall emptying their quivers.
She took a breath, and whispered, “Alikan, Naresh a fuale mitaras. Ni soka de tsina malakar.”
She looked up, drew her knives and prepared for the onslaught.

Alhon had feared that the Datharian Revolution would come down to a siege like this. The Rebels would have captured a city, and would have to hold off the more powerful Lokar. Yet this never happened. He felt he had gotten away with it. Now, fate was paying him back. However, he held his head high and murmured, “If this be our end, let them remember us and fear!”
War had begun.