11
Braven
The report was accurate to tell me that they are on the march in my forest; a column of ten thousand marchmen and one thousand lancers alongside the supply wagons, and a personal company of one thousand Praetorian guards commanded by two officers; a young one and an older one. The young one looks like he is learning the tactics, and the older one known to me by name. He is Senior Praetorian Silva, the personal preference of the Prime Leader Romus himself. He is like a son to the Prime Leader; groomed to takeover the position one day. I know not of the young one, probably a new officer raised from the rank. Or a favored one of Silva.
The trail the invading army will take them to my settlement soon enough if I do not stopped it. I have many men with me; a total of thirty thousand well trained men in five different settlement spread out across the borders, to avoid being detected. I have another ten thousand in the forest manning outposts and strategic positions. In the south I have another twenty thousand also spread out over five settlements and they are also in position to fight when called on. To the west are another twenty thousands with more in the inland country as citizens of the cities. And many more in the different cities and armies, as spies and informers.
It has been a long three years of planning and sorting out alliances with the other Outsiders; whose cause is similar to mine but we were not in coordination. I did what the 35th Braven failed to accomplish in his service; I managed to consolidate the Outsiders from all the borders to one main clan. The earlier Braven may had sat the pace for me, but I shall finished the race. I also have the pledge by the Yellow Beard to support with twenty thousand men if the need to call on them. Its not the numbers that count, its the strength of the allies, and mine has been trained like the Praetorian finest, and we are ready to fight now.
I sat down to planned my attack on this invading troops. They must be taught a lesson and never return here. I looked at their movements and decided on the place to hit them and hard. It will be called the end of the road for them at the Dark Misty Trail; a place with many tall trees and heavy bushes surrounded with heavy mist in winter time. The trail runs for nearly a day’s ride and no travelers familiar with it will ever stopped to rest on that trail. Its rumor to be haunted and wolves roams it nightly. Despite stories and myths, I had my men posted there soon and we waited for the ghosts to arrive.
Mathise
I am honored to be here with this men and my adviser cum commander Silva, who allowed me to plan the invasion. We have been traveling through the forest and discovered many outposts that are conceal from the travelers, well camouflaged in the forest; blending in with the natural surroundings. Unlike our outpost which are wooden structure with a ditch around it, these outposts are build to blend in with the surrounding scene. Some of them are dugouts along the hill sides with the trees offering them shelter, or wooden ramparts to blend in between tree trunks and heavy foliage covered it from prying eyes. Even my scouts will missed it if they do not stop to see carefully. Whoever teach them are very good.
But we encountered no main enemies yet; not one to challenged us. I know they are out there as my scouts seen them like shadows in the forest. To satisfy my curiosity, I send more of these scouts in all directions and they still come back to tell me they find nothing in the forest. There are some of my scouts who did not return, so I send out three more to find them. If I lose those three, I send another five if needed. But there was never a need to do the last as the second batch would had returned with no results. Silva dismissed my concerns to overstretched the scouts and concentrate on the column. I tried to argue my concerns, but he just change the subject.
Soon I find myself reading the terrains as which we marched through and studied the each outpost design which we stumbled on. I begin to see the Outsiders more than wild rebels but as formidable foe yet to be encountered in any of my previous discussions. From my studies with the tutors, I have studied with the best and the books and writings of past battles. The epics of many previous battles unfold in my mind but none can match the feeling I have right now. From what I read, there are many of us like open warfare and stealth or hidden fights, or plainly put as ambushes; the generals disliked such battles, as its cowardly to do so.
But from what I read, I cannot suppress my bad feelings here. I can see the many strategies I can deploy here that can brings in victory if I am well planned. But I am not, so I need to counter these strategies here. I posted more scouts on both side of the column so that we can can warned of any attacks or ambush. We have some experienced men with us who has fought these Outsiders before, and they know the trail in the forest, but they been not this far deep as we are now. They come to me and expressed their concerns too. I did asked the men do they know where we are headed, and they said its called Misty Trail or Deadman’s Corridor ,and they had not ventured there before. They claimed the spirits dwell there and none has dare to go in. The more queries I asked was answered with unsupported remarks which I choose to ignore or disregard as stupid thoughts.
On my advise, Senior Silva called for a camp to be set here now, outside the Misty Trail, and as the men pitched their camp, sentries are posted out. I personally then instruct twenty of my scouts to ride ahead and report back to me by morning, before we marched in. I told them to signal me all clear from the trail start point. That was my first mistake I made in my career.
It was at the break of dawn when we packed to march in Misty Trail. I saw the signal given by one of my scout near the huge tree by the start of the trail to inside the so called Misty Trail. I told Silva we are ready to march and they followed suit with the scout markings. The marchmen was first to go in, followed by the Praetorian and then the lancers. I choose to rode with the marchmen in front to prove them wrong in their assumptions, while Silva marched with his men in the middle section of the column. I can see the marking left by the scouts but soon as we entered the trail, the markings seems to be missing or mis-placed. I attribute it to the wet dew or winds which breezed by us with its cold air. I see the trail becoming more dark and musky with the heavy mist of the morning still hanging onto the leaves. Mildew soon coats our armors and sandals, making the walk a very wet trail for the marchmen. I got the men to light up lanterns and torches. The ground on the trail became soggy and muddy as the steps of over five thousand men walked on it. Men at the some sections began to fall out of formation but they were prodded on with the discipline officer on their rear. I looked back and see the Praetorian, despite the soggy conditions, they marched with precision and strength.
I send additional scouts running on both sides of the column, with eyes on the trees and bushes. I was surprised that none of my forward scouts came back to report any new updates, but maybe they are probably still riding ahead. That was my second mistake.
The officers soon find themselves riding down the column to pushed the men in to formation. And some of them has slowed their march, and even at some stages halted the Praetorian in their march from the rear. I then signaled for the Praetorian and lancers to overtake us and march on to the end of the trail and await us. The supply wagons will take their own pace with the marchmen. Soon I find my marchmen moving to one side or getting into the side ditches, and some to the extent of sitting down to rest while the lancers and Praetorian marched by. This moment of diminished attention on the forest, was my third and last mistake.
The trail is actually winding through a wide low valley, with the forest trees are on both sides. The tree lines can be seen from our lighted torches are covered with rolls of bushes. Soon we find some of these bushes are lighted up and rushing towards us down to the trail like boulders. These rolls of bushes when compacted into round balls, they rolled with ease down the valley sides. These bushes seemed to be doused with animals fat oils so they burned well and when they hit upon us. For some of the men, it looked like fire brimstones as said in some religious manuscripts. The entire column was caught by the oncoming flaming balls creating mayhem. The lancers trying to control their horses which panicked on seeing the fires, while marchmen trying to climb out ditches to avoid the flames. Not even the Praetorian was spared, but they soon organized themselves with their shields as a barrier. It may helped them to deflect some of these rolling burning bushes, but my trouble was not to end, as scores of arrows soon taint the trail with many men falling to it. We had no archers as we thought that the fights will be stockades and plain battlefields. I tried to mobilize the men, but chaos was around. Just as I saw the flaming bushes and archery stopped, another volley of death was on us. This time its running wild hogs who are released to the trail chased by the hunters towards us. They must had planned all this beforehand and now these enraged hogs with their tails on fire run amok among the column. My men killed most of them, but we lost some men to their tusks and charges. Then the main attack came with the Outsiders down on us with their cries of battle. It must had numbered thousands as I was soon brought down by one of them with a battle axe on on my back. That was what I last remembered; a a well planned ambush with one outcome, victory to the Outsiders.
Silva
Its a crazy fight here, they are using the elements that we are not used to see in a battle. My men are all scattered or dead by one or the other strikes, and now they come with their cries. I can see the marchmen running for safety or in retreat but the later actually gets in the way of my men. I even see some pleading for their lives from the Outsiders. I stood firm with my men surrounding me like a shield, but I can see the oncoming charges was reducing my strength and we will soon turned into dead bodies. Its better to die here than to live with the shame of defeat. I roused to my men to draw their swords and held our shields up. Then we charged forward with our own battle cries against the Outsiders who are armed with pikes and spears, with some of them carrying short sword like us. I find myself swinging my sword at the nearest opponent I can set my eyes on, just as many who has theirs on me. When my blade struck at the shoulder of the oncoming men, a pike was thrusted into my left side of my ribs. I felt more more wounds as another had thrust my ribs from behind with his weapon. I began to utter my prayer for forgiveness from my Prime Leader Romus for failing to live his dream. Even these savages would not let me finished my prayer as the next blow took off my helmet.
Braven
My first major victory as their leader and against the men who may had served me before. My tears could not help falling down on my cheek as I recite prayers for the dead. The entire column of the invading army was taken out in less than half a day, with a handful of survivors. None escaped that day, not even the twenty scouts who died earlier that day, and it was my men who was disguise as the scout to signal the march. I saw some Praetorian colors but I chose not see them in details. I fear I may find some friends among them.
‘Collect the wounded and offer them to join us or die now. But if he is a Praetorian, spare him not. They will never betray their own. And also collect the armors and weapons too. As for the dead bodies take it away and scattered them to be fed by the wild. Bury all the leftover useless armors and clothes. I do not want any evidence to be left of this fight.’
‘Yes, my leader, but here is the helmet of the leader.’ The elder leader who led the attack showed me the Praetorian Helmet. ‘Buried it with the others.’
I am Braven the leader of the Outsiders. My only link to the Praetorian is a past which was erased when they banished me on a crime I did not commit. I would had answered to that crime, but I was told that their decision has been made beforehand. After all those deeds I took for the Prime Leader, he left me in the open with no avenue of pleading my case. I know I done many deeds which cannot be said to the people, so be it that I be damned to death for my assumed betrayal. Just as I was your sword, I will be now be the sword of the Outsiders to removed you. My tears are for my friends in the army and the Praetorian but not for you.
I can see Darius down there helping the wounded on both sides; he is a fine warrior and now has improved his skills, but he lacks the killing desire. He prefers to wound then to kill. He has much to learned this young man.
Darius
I tended to the wounded as I could, making sure they are treated and if need be send them on their way with the swift death. Its better to have this then to struggle to lived in this harsh forest. I have been with the Leader for over three years now, and he taught me well. I have improved in my archery and some close combat skills. As he is the leader, I had to find shelter with the others. If not for Lydia, I would had ended up in the barracks. Lydia was kind to take me into her home and although we stayed alone together, our relationship is very much like a family. She is the only family I have now, with my ‘mother’ in my previous home but my grandfather will take care of her well. I feel that she is not my real mother, just like in Lydia here; though they offered me comfort and care. I know in me that my real mother is out there, either alive or dead. I asked that of my grandfather but he said I am crazy to have such thoughts. I know I am right and the amulet can show me my mother. I left it with my ‘mother’ there until I am ready to collect it back and also to find my real father.
Like Braven, they are all the same, supportive parents.
I helped an officer of the army today with a bad wound in his back. I have discarded his amour which is how I know who he is, so that none may know he is an officer, or his life is forfeit. He claims not to know of his name and where he is now. I took him to the camp where the wounded are tended by the physicians.
It was not the third day when I saw him again, limping on one foot and holding a crutch. He told me his wound on the back was not that bad as his amour took most of the blow. But he has a bad wound on his right knee which may never heal. But he can’t still recall of his past but he remembered me as the one saved him. He has taken the pledge with the others to join the Outsiders.
Lord Camlash
I disliked when the Praetorian do things without consulting me, more so when they crossed my land to go into the forests to fight the Outsiders. But I liked to hear the news the whole column is missing, presumed dead. A loss to Romus and Micha, when they could have told me beforehand, I may had share some of those loss too. I hear the losses includes Silva and also the son of Micha. Sad but there is less than to contend with.
I must see who this Braven is, and this time, I will try a diplomatic way; I will send General Damai. He can see an old friend as they were once were. If he does not return then the numbers just dwindled by itself. But now I must attend to my daughter. She is to received a proposal from Lord Giantus; surprised at his age and he still seek a proposal. Old man must be getting senile. Oh, I forget he has a son who is not seen much in public. One he kept away from the Lords too. I think his name is Master Granus. I wonder how he is doing now. He may be planning his son’s lineage. I liked that, as if I am linked to him, then Micha will be in dire straits to fight me. Or maybe we can unite and get rid of the Praetorians for good.
‘Yes, Domo; you seek me, I was told.’ I had received the summon from the Adviser for him to meet me. Domo is still as strong as before, but his hair is now all white.
‘Its Conal,I come to see you. He has taken some of the hostages to the garden.’ I know I still feed some hostages of the other Lords and they are a load to handle. ‘He is putting them as targets for his archery skills.’
The bastard is doing it. He just killed the other Lord’s son last week.
Conal
I held my bow straight and the string taut, so when I released my arrow it will fly straight to the mark I set. I just breathe in very slightly and not too deep, I just keep my attention focused. I can feel the finger slowly letting go the string, and the arrow will flow.
‘Stop!’
Who dares to stopped me. Its the old man in his push cart and alongside is the old adviser. My arrow missed my targeted spot by the length of an arrow. So my target survived this round. The previous arrow is still embedded in his right thigh. I felt the push cart as it hit me on my lower limbs, causing me to almost to fall, if not for Dina.
‘Release those people and send in the physicians.’ It was my father who issued the command, while his own son is soothing his own wound. ‘You do not used my friends as your target. Never again, or I will disown you.’
Harsh words to my ears, but it meant nothing has changed at all. He still need me as his heir unless he got another one stacked away. I looked at the old man and his adviser; a pair of life's which is without any use. I had Dina led me to the chambers for the physician to tend to me. Today, I just reduced the number of hostages by half as they are of no use in view of their cities is all soon to be mine. And I needed the practice anyway.
While tending to me on my wounds, I asked Dina if she would like to go on a journey with me to the borders. Maybe we can find better targets there. She agreed so I told the servants to make preparation.
Dina
I know I have changed over the years. Since I came here to the Lord Camlash service, I had performed not less than a dozen assassinations for the Lord.
Then I met the young master Conal. At first I was apprehensive to approach the young master, but the days of being with him has been fun. Yes, we trained together, and but the next stage of the relation ship was not until that day. ‘Conal’ told his true identity and how he became ‘Conal’. He was a caged man until his twin died. He was not given the freedom of decision, it was made for him at his birth. If not for his skills, he would had been the one who died. He knew from his interactions with his twin ; what his father desire, and what his brother does not have. So he honed his skills to satisfy his father’s desire. He became what his father wanted him to be. When he was released he find that there is more to freedom; there is power over life and death. He saw the events in the council and also the land, he know where the fights are and also read on the events of the past, so he can make better judgment In conclusion he told me that to survive against all odds is to be merciless and decisive. Do not hesitate and you will sway to make wrong decisions. He pushed that in his mind, and he said I am like him; another lone survivor in the world of survival.
I was a loner before, which is why I did not speak much or at all. I learned that at the tender age when I was send to the school; there we were taught to kill and survive when needed. I know not my parents nor my sibling, so I let my school be my world. The school is a harsh world with no mercy or love. Everyone is your enemy and you are theirs. The only way to survive is to be good at the skills. As I began to get adept at the skills and as said, I let the training guide me in my fight. I chose not to see human life, I see targets. They can bleed and die which is the way the target should react. I see not their gender or age, but my target, be it big or small.
But with ‘Conal’, I learned to live in a shell of another. As shell, we let the our emotions take over the training. We only used it to shelter our true self when we are alone and when we are beneath the shell itself. I do not know if I desire or loved the man, but I let it be known that no one touches him except me. And no one can kill him except me. Just as he does to me.
I have to confess, I do missed him when I go out on those missions.
General Damai
I was told to get ready for a journey with the young master into the border. I know not madness is this for the young master to come here, when we just lost one column, whose fate is unknown. I sent out patrols and they come back with no news. Now the Lord tells me the young master wants to tour the border and I am to prepare a protection for his visits. Its crazy I tell this descendants of the Lords runs with blood of utter madness in them.
Well, at least, he is not crossing the border which made it more safer, I think.
I send out more spies along the route he intends to take so that I can be pre-advised on any developments. Its not the Outsiders I am concerned about; its the young master who may do his own agenda on the tour.
He is traveling with a personal group of two hundred and fifty men, as his personal guards. And some handful of lancers, added by the Frontier Army.
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