Chapter 11: Ch 10

Cedric’s shoes softly crunched through the desert sand as he entered the old ruined village. The weathered homes of old were like thrown out picture frames, having regressed to flaccid plywood through so many years without occupation. He wondered how it was they even stood upright at this point, many of their vital pieces having rotted away.

“Why is it we haven’t torn the whole thing down and rebuilt it? Makes no sense.”

“I suppose it serves as a bit of a memorial,” Quentle answered, having just met with him on the outskirts of town, much to his relief.

“Still…if anything I’d say it’s a disservice to the dead. They could at least clean it up.”

The two passed through the eerie ruins in the dead of night, not having to stay quiet. The ruins were like a world separated from town, where the only other noise was the rhythmic cry of cicadas, along with the occasional howl of a wolf from the direction of the forest.

“Hmmm…I guess you could say it serves as a reminder to the people not to let their land come to this?”

“I guess that makes sense,” Cedric grumbled, not completely satisfied. Before long, the boys reached the center of the ruins, a mostly open dirt land that used to be the village’s town center.

The only obstacles were six small pavilions, three on each side of a larger pavilion. Only the larger pavilion still had its shingles attached, and was decorated with several worn down oak tables.

On the centermost table, a luxuriously dressed blond boy laid lazily, drenched in water.

“Uh, Mel? Why are you wet?”

“You making fun of me for earlier? Wanna fight, rich boy?”

“Hahhh. I got here early and did a bit of warming up, so I doused myself. That a problem?”

Mel’s eyes remained closed as he pointed toward an empty basin some feet away. He seemed to be attempting to brush them off with his usual smug air, but Cedric noticed a hint of frustration in his voice that he apparently couldn’t mask.

“Well, you aren’t too tired to fight now, are you?” Cedric badgered back at him.

“Of course, not, Cedric. I wouldn’t still be here if that was the case,” Mel retorted, sitting up with a grunt.

“Hehe, then let’s do this!” Quentle shouted excitedly.

Wait. Did he notice it too?

Ah, whatever.

“Let’s do this!”

 

______

 

                “Hurry up and get in the wall! The commander wants all infantry Go at a siege station!”

                “Everyone file in! We’ll be sitting ducks if we start the battle out here!”

                “How is there that many galleons?! There’s at least thirty of them!”
                “And a gold studded war galley toward the front! What the hell is this?!”

                “Hey, calm down and file in orderly, soldiers! Like you’ve done this before!”

                “Simmer down, pansies! We’ll get a piece of ‘em once we’ve settled into defense!”
                Ralin and Galgi roared out in the middle of a frantic crowd of over a hundred soldiers, all trying to climb the wall’s ladders at the same time. Large ballista arrows began soaring from the wall toward the sea, further panicking the hurried infantrymen.

                They managed to get most of the unprepared infantrymen up the ladders in time, but some twenty or thirty hadn’t made it before the first projectile slung with a snap toward the wall.

 

_________

               

                Mel’s arrow missed the mark by a meter or so, as Cedric dashed for the second pavilion to take cover. As the arrow struck dirt, the small tomato that served as its tip burst, splattering its juices along with scattered dirt around Cedric’s feet.

                As serious as the boys took their night battles, they couldn’t simply fire real arrows at each other. Though, the tomato-tipped projectiles still caused significant pain, and therefore head shots had become forbidden.

                Even then, Mel’s accuracy was second to none at school, so it was in Cedric’s best interest to avoid any kind of hit. A torso shot would be his ‘death’ and end the round in his loss, while any arm or leg hits would force him to abandon use of said limb. Of course, the shots were painful enough that the boys wouldn’t have to voluntarily disable the hit limb in an act, especially when Mel was on the firing end.

                Cedric knew this, and made every precaution to avoid a hit. Before him awaited Quentle, blocking the opening into the main pavilion where he needed to pass through on the way to claiming the flag hidden behind one of the opposite pavilions. Going into a brawl with Quentle with a disabled limb was not a good idea, and had around a ninety-nine percent failure rate. This was their best shot at beating him, so the two staked their entire strategy around getting Mel a clean shot on him.

                In an attempt to catch the two off-guard, Cedric streaked past the third pavilion, making a direct run for the worn down awning Quentle was guarding.

                He did manage to throw Mel off, but Quentle was not one to be caught sleeping.

                The shortest of the group by almost a foot, Quentle made up for his disadvantage by using a long spear, its wooden tip wrapped thoroughly to soften blows. In addition, he relied on a strong center of gravity due to his slight stalkiness. Due to this, he took Cedric’s attack head on.

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                Coming in at a sprint, Cedric swung the wooden sword he’d ‘borrowed’ from Valblin’s dojo with precision, attacking Quentle’s left shoulder.

                Quentle responded swiftly, widening his grip and receiving the blow with certainty. Pushing the sword away, he then gave a short swipe of the spear, forcing Cedric to jump back.

                Not withdrawing for long, Cedric leapt back toward the scrappy defender, raising his sword high before whipping it around for a low sweep.

                Quentle, however, played the smart, patient defender. He waited for the sword to make its arc, meeting the blow with the spear’s right side instead of attempting his own. Then, once more, he delivered a swift counterstrike with the longer left end of the spear.

                Cedric, ready for this, decided to leap out of the action, darting out to Quentle’s right side.

                Quentle seemed content to play the steadfast defender to give Mel a clean shot. It was essentially a stall tactic. In that case, Cedric thought, he just needed to outmaneuver him and leave him behind.

                However, this also factored into the opponents’ plan.

                An arrow flew from beyond the outside run of huts, making a beeline for Cedric’s face.

                Wha!-

 

________

               

                The oversized ballista arrow shattered as it slammed thunderously into the stone wall, sending a thousand pieces of sharp flint in every direction with the explosion.

                Those still climbing the ladder found themselves skewered, bombarded, and falling to the earth in a bloody downpour.

                Galgi and Ralin held firmly onto large shields as several pieces seeped in, grazing their arms and legs. Their two squads had just made it in over the wall in time to ready shields in defense. Knowing their comrades wouldn’t make it up the ladder in time, it was all they could afford to protect their own squads.

                “ALL INFANTRY! ONE SIEGE STATION PER GO!” The commander’s voice could be heard some ways down the wall.

                Ralin and Galgi’s respective Go flew into action, swarming onto the nearest H-shaped heavy ballista structures. While two men took over shield duties for each Go, the other three began loading the heavy arrows into mesh straps, and placing pin locks into the netting to hold the arrow taut.

                Both arrows loaded, Ralin positioned himself behind them, and began pulling on both arrows by the chain leading from their rear. Galgi had broken off, and was peering out at the sea from between the two middle-most shields.

 

                “Got anything, Galg?” Ralin yelled calmly despite the overall state of panic of the ten men.

                “Nothing yet. If I heard right, golden arches…they shouldn’t be too hard to- ah!”

                “Got ‘em??”

                “TWO CLIKS UP, AND THREE RIGHT!!”

                “Aye-OH!”

                Ralin pulled the chains as far back as he could, both arms straining to stretch the mesh netting as far as it would go, adjusting his angle as he growled roughly to match his energy exertion. Every other Go had at least two soldiers fire their single arrow, while Ralin manned both squad’s at once.

                “READY!”

                “EVERYONE CLEAR ON 3! 2! 1! FIIIIIRE!”

                All nine men turned away from the ballista as Ralin released the chained arrows with a roar.

                The heavy arrows screamed over the shields before disappearing into the beach’s darkness. Ralin dropped to his knees, panting while staring intently at Galgi’s back. The men all sat in silence for a moment, not moving an inch as they waited. The sounds of artillery battle could be heard in cluster, yet the only way to tell if their shot had landed was to wait for Galgi’s call.

                “h……..”

                His left fist began to raise up with vigor.

                “HIIIIIIT!!!”

                “UUUUOHHHHHH!!!”

                “How good a shot, Galg?”

                “Right on the front deck, but it doesn’t look like we did much damage-wait, what is that?”

                “What is it, Galg??”

                “There’s no way they’re…were they…waiting for someone to aim at- E-EVERYONE GET DOWN NOW!!!”

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