Chapter Twelve: When Death Calls
1469 Words
Donovan awakened, as the first rays of the sun began to shine upon the hill. Heavy dew covered everything, making him shiver from the chill.
Crawling out from beneath the covers, Donovan gently pulled them up over Morgan, who was still fast asleep. Without knowing why, he ached all over and currently had a headache. Right now, he desired nothing more than warmth from the nearest fire and a cup of whatever it was, those gathered there were drinking.
"Brother, I was beginning to believe I alone felt this bad, until venturing to warm myself by the fire. It appears none of us got any rest last night. This is going to be a long day," Changa said. He was holding a steaming mug while standing beside one of the roaring fires.
Donovan nodded, rubbing his head with his hand. He stared at the surrounding forest, where only small creatures stirred. In the light from the rising sun, the trees' vivid greens were slowly revealing themselves once more.
"How many men did we lose last night?" Donovan asked. Deep inside, he dreaded the answer, knowing full well they had lost far too many.
"We lost seventy-four men and there are another forty who we gave berries from the sanctuary. Those men are recovering from their injuries, very nicely." Prince Everin replied as he scratched his cheek.
"At this rate, there will be none of us left alive, to find the sanctuary," Girard stated openly. Donovan did not mind it was what they were all thinking.
"Which is exactly what the dark one desires. He aims to wear us down until we can fight no longer. Has anyone seen the Dreena this morning?" Changa asked out loud, to one and all.
"The Dreena has managed to survive, though we lost some twenty-five in the attempt. Fortunately, others are managing to find their way here. Some fifteen more arrived this morning," Celete said while smiling. She walked over with three others, to stand before them.!
"We need to bury our dead and despite the fact we are pressed for time, we are in no shape to travel, or run into another ambush today. We need to rest. All of us must be well-rested to meet whatever challenge the enemy next throws our way," Brenna said calmly while sitting on a fallen log, where she dangled her legs.
"Brenna . . ." Donovan began. Then he stopped, for he knew she was right. They had been through a great deal last night and had managed to prevail. If they failed to rest up, they would eventually fall to the enemy and exhaustion.
"Etria has fallen, we have suffered many losses, and everything is still going Bemenah's way. I am more than ready to meet his swine in fair combat," Sir Alfred said angrily while standing upright.
"Not everything, we still live and are not far from where the sanctuary stands. Beside us, walk allies which have proven to be more than we could ever have hoped for. These are the times when we need to be thankful for what we have, as we stand firmly together," Changa said while placing a hand on Alfred's shoulder.
"My people will ride with you to the sanctuary and would see this quest through to the end. Now is the time to stand steadfast in our faith and beliefs. No greater cause was ever placed before us, then to save Aederan from the darkness of Bemenah." Prince Everin said, standing tall.
"As long as I live and breathe, I will fight against Bemenah's evil. Our people must know there is still hope. We can ill afford any further losses to the armies of Bemenah. Anna, what do you see?" Donovan asked.
"The Great Mother has set before you a mighty quest, which will decide the fate of the alliance for all time. War's dark tide will shake every portion of this world. Each of you fights to claim your children's birthright, for them to stand up and be counted among those who will forge a new world."
"Does my father yet live?" Morgan asked with a quavering voice.
"King Aramus still lives, though he was wounded in battle. His life was saved, by one who with great courage sacrificed his own. Your father and people now march beside friends and allies, towards Kandalare," Anna said quietly. Her eyes now glowed a faint silvery blue.
An oppressive gloom hung heavy over all who stood upon the hill. Fear and despair now filled the hearts and minds of all. Everyone knew the defense of the alliance, rested upon the sister cities of Etria and Kandalare. Now, Kandalare stood alone against the dark tides of Bemenah's armies.
Donovan had been tasked with finding the sanctuary and recovering what it held. Deep inside, he feared he would complete the quest to no avail. Would it be too late to aid their cause? His place was at his father's side, defending his people. Instead, he was far away in another land, helpless to aid his people in their hour of need.
Prince Donovan knew he needed to do something to take his mind off matters, or he would go insane. Rising, he grabbed a shovel and walked over to a flat expanse of land. There were a great many dead who needed to be laid to rest. He began to dig.
Many hours later, Donovan, tired and filthy, continued to dig until he could barely move. Around him were the smiling faces of those they had lost, he had to close his eyes at times because the visages were so vivid. He had become the prince of death it seemed and dreaded the dead that would come from future battles.
Many others had taken his idea and they worked quietly, each to their own thoughts. Somehow, the day had fled before him and shadows were now growing long, announcing the coming night. All day long he had kept busy, pushing his fears to the back of his mind.
The eyes betrayed what was in each man's mind. The shock of what had happened had decimated the men as effectively as a disease. Eyes met and abruptly broke away as if fearing confirmation of their varied fears. Onward, Donovan toiled, throwing another shovel of dirt upon the mound he had been working on. It was another grave, filled by a man who had given his life to a greater cause. Within, lay a man Prince Donovan did not know.
Inwardly, he acknowledged there would be a great many more who would pay the price. He felt a presence and saw Girard standing beside him, just as filthy as he was. Beside him, stood Sir Alfred, and Morgan, also covered in dirt.
"Donovan, you are my friend, and I tell you we cannot take upon ourselves the weight of the dead. It is far too heavy for the likes of us. It is not too late, the enemy will yet feel our full might and vengeance," Girard promised with a broad smile.
"Come, sit with us by the fire this evening. We have buried our dead, and it is time we celebrate being alive. Our friends have brought us fresh meat, and it is now time we enjoy talk of a more pleasant sort," Alfred said while helping him to his feet.
Morgan took his hand, despite the fact she trembled now and then. Slowly, he walked with her towards the fire. The good food
and conversation helped Donovan to relax and think more pleasant thoughts. He earnestly joined in, despite the fact, he for the first time, did not know what they should do.
The smiling faces of friends and allies were now memories, etched in his mind. He would never forget them and knew he would visit them in his memories from time to time. Silently, Donovan acknowledged that there was nothing more that he could have done. The hill and their defense of it had kept their losses from being much higher.
As he listened to the men talk around the fires, he realized he needed to respect the dead, but support those who had survived. These men were still full of hope, and their courage was undiminished.
The laughter and good-natured talk slowly drew him from his morbid thoughts. As it did so, he felt a great deal of weight removed from his shoulders.
Girard had been right the weight of the dead was too much for a mortal to bear. With that realization, he joined in with the light-hearted conversation and felt the last of his stress fade away.
They sat there for hours, not willing to end the evening. Laughter, good-natured jests, and camaraderie served to while away the hours, until finally, they began to call it a night.
Donovan and Morgan excused themselves for the evening and walked to their tent. They crawled into their bedroll and snuggled, and before he knew it the prince blissfully fell asleep.
- Writer
