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Authors: William Gehler
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Clarian hopefully.
“Send out this order,” Clarian announced. “We will call upon every boy and girl thirteen years or older, and every man and every woman who can fight. We will bring up every horse that is suitable for riding and put a mounted archer on its back. Let the Maggan fight on foot with swords and lances. We will engage them with arrows and lances from a distance, always moving fast. And we will not let them rest or sleep.”
Rokkman tapped his knuckles on the table. “You’re going to put children into the battles?”
“What will the Maggan do to the children if we are defeated?” Clarian asked. “We already know what they do to children. Let the children fight for their lives too. If they can draw back a bow string and loose an arrow at a Maggan, then they must. My father took me into battle against the Kobani when I was thirteen.”
The officers looked around at one another, shocked expressions on their faces. “We don’t have enough time to prepare our soldiers. It’s too little time,” Lillan said, a worried look on her face.
Clarian nodded. “You have allowed yourselves to fall asleep while a rival tribe of savages dreams of killing you and all your families and wiping out your civilization. It’s all the time we have. Send out messengers to every village in the land, to every farm, to bring in those who will fight with us. And bring in the horses and wagons and every weapon. Enlist every tradesman to begin making weapons and saddles, building wagons, and everything we will need to mount an army. Work day and night. Notify all the farmers east of here to leave their farms and come into the city. They are to bring all the belongings they can carry. They are in the path of the enemy, and that would not be a good place to be. When we know the enemy is marching, we will burn all the houses and barns and fields. We will leave nothing for them to use as shelter.
“This is all good, but not enough. Is there more to your plan, Clarian?” asked Rokkman.
“Yes. I will find Ferman and kill him.”
Grins slowly emerged on previously grim faces.
“I am a warrior from the frontier, the Great Grasslands. I know little about armies. I am a simple man. Why I am the one selected to be here, I don’t know. But I will do what is asked of me. And I ask the same from you. Now…let us begin.
Lillan leaned close and whispered in Clarian’s ear.
“In the name of the Flame!” exclaimed Clarian.
“In the name of the Flame!” chorused the officers.
It was night, and far in the depths of the Citadel, the Flamekeeper knelt before the Sacred Crystal. Ethereal clouds of white light floated upward from the crystal.
“Sacred White Light, Sacred Flame, have I chosen wisely? Is this boy, Clarian, the one to lead our people to victory over our enemies?”
The light changed and darkened, and within the flame the Flamekeeper saw Clarian on his horse, leading soldiers into battle. He wept.
CHAPTER EIGHT
S o began a great stream of men and women, some young and some old, farmers and shepherds, boys and girls, driving strings of horses and wagons, all converging on the Citadel. The people of the city that surrounded the Citadel took many into their homes. Others were assigned to the fields of tents in the shadow of the castle fortress.
Clarian was everywhere, riding from one training area to the next. The young boys and girls and older men and women were organized into companies of archers. Older boys and girls and able-bodied men and women who could ride were given horses and trained as mounted archers. By Clarian’s decree, all soldiers were to be armed with bows and also trained with the sword and lance. Some of the younger children could not throw a lance very far or swing a sword well, but they all received training in each weapon.
Clarian took a personal interest in training the mounted archers, firing arrows at targets at a gallop to show them how to bring down the enemy. Clarian could be seen
“Send out this order,” Clarian announced. “We will call upon every boy and girl thirteen years or older, and every man and every woman who can fight. We will bring up every horse that is suitable for riding and put a mounted archer on its back. Let the Maggan fight on foot with swords and lances. We will engage them with arrows and lances from a distance, always moving fast. And we will not let them rest or sleep.”
Rokkman tapped his knuckles on the table. “You’re going to put children into the battles?”
“What will the Maggan do to the children if we are defeated?” Clarian asked. “We already know what they do to children. Let the children fight for their lives too. If they can draw back a bow string and loose an arrow at a Maggan, then they must. My father took me into battle against the Kobani when I was thirteen.”
The officers looked around at one another, shocked expressions on their faces. “We don’t have enough time to prepare our soldiers. It’s too little time,” Lillan said, a worried look on her face.
Clarian nodded. “You have allowed yourselves to fall asleep while a rival tribe of savages dreams of killing you and all your families and wiping out your civilization. It’s all the time we have. Send out messengers to every village in the land, to every farm, to bring in those who will fight with us. And bring in the horses and wagons and every weapon. Enlist every tradesman to begin making weapons and saddles, building wagons, and everything we will need to mount an army. Work day and night. Notify all the farmers east of here to leave their farms and come into the city. They are to bring all the belongings they can carry. They are in the path of the enemy, and that would not be a good place to be. When we know the enemy is marching, we will burn all the houses and barns and fields. We will leave nothing for them to use as shelter.
“This is all good, but not enough. Is there more to your plan, Clarian?” asked Rokkman.
“Yes. I will find Ferman and kill him.”
Grins slowly emerged on previously grim faces.
“I am a warrior from the frontier, the Great Grasslands. I know little about armies. I am a simple man. Why I am the one selected to be here, I don’t know. But I will do what is asked of me. And I ask the same from you. Now…let us begin.
Lillan leaned close and whispered in Clarian’s ear.
“In the name of the Flame!” exclaimed Clarian.
“In the name of the Flame!” chorused the officers.
It was night, and far in the depths of the Citadel, the Flamekeeper knelt before the Sacred Crystal. Ethereal clouds of white light floated upward from the crystal.
“Sacred White Light, Sacred Flame, have I chosen wisely? Is this boy, Clarian, the one to lead our people to victory over our enemies?”
The light changed and darkened, and within the flame the Flamekeeper saw Clarian on his horse, leading soldiers into battle. He wept.
CHAPTER EIGHT
S o began a great stream of men and women, some young and some old, farmers and shepherds, boys and girls, driving strings of horses and wagons, all converging on the Citadel. The people of the city that surrounded the Citadel took many into their homes. Others were assigned to the fields of tents in the shadow of the castle fortress.
Clarian was everywhere, riding from one training area to the next. The young boys and girls and older men and women were organized into companies of archers. Older boys and girls and able-bodied men and women who could ride were given horses and trained as mounted archers. By Clarian’s decree, all soldiers were to be armed with bows and also trained with the sword and lance. Some of the younger children could not throw a lance very far or swing a sword well, but they all received training in each weapon.
Clarian took a personal interest in training the mounted archers, firing arrows at targets at a gallop to show them how to bring down the enemy. Clarian could be seen
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