Chapter Thirty-Nine
Just as Dahy had predicted, Cialtie’s army, using Turlow’s intelligence, ignored the stone ramparts, swept wide behind the Hall and prepared to attack what yesterday had been the unprotected hill. Cialtie’s forces took their time setting up. If their sixth sense was warning them about the buried gold barrier, then they weren’t showing it. We stood in a row, two deep, banta sticks in hand, waiting for the attack.
The previous night there had been a pretty heated debate about whether we should be defending with swords or sticks. Spideog said we were at war and should be using swords like warriors, but I said no. These people were not monsters or robots – they were men and women whose only crime was to have their minds corrupted by evil men. Spideog pointed out that they would not give us the same courtesy. Before I could reply Essa said something that finished the argument.
‘What would we win,’ she asked, ‘if after we defeat our enemy, we then become just like them?’
At that moment I wanted to kiss Essa square on the mouth – but then again I could say that about most moments.
The battle began with a mortar attack. The enemy cheered as they sent conch shells sailing overhead. Except for the one that Essa batted back like a major league baseball player, half a dozen shells landed on the ground with smoke rising out of them. We backed away expecting the worst but they did nothing. Finally brave souls picked them up and threw them back. Our enemy’s cheering stopped and for a while they looked confused. Orders barked from the back of their ranks refocused the troops and they strapped short shields to their arms, drew their swords and waited for the order to charge.
The silence, as the old expression goes, was deafening. I looked to my left and saw Yogi morph into a bear and growl. I looked to my right; Essa nodded and spun her banta stick. There wasn’t a smiling face to be seen. How I wished Fergal was there with me.
I didn’t hear the order to charge but I sure saw the results. A couple of hundred screaming Banshees and howling Brownies charged up the hill under the shadow of a flock of arrows launched from the rear. The attackers must have seen the arrows explode into flame as they crossed the gold barrier. They probably expected it. What they didn’t expect was what came next. As the first line of Banshees crossed the point where we had buried the ribbons of gold, their swords and shields vanished in a puff of smoke. Their forward momentum carried them straight into our waiting sticks. It was like hunting in a zoo. Baffled and surprised Banshees ran straight at us as we mercilessly clubbed them and then dropped back so as to let the next line step up and have a fuwing. Banshees, then Brownies, dropped like bowling pins and piled up on one another. Others collided and tripped over confused retreating soldiers who were running in every direction. It was horrible. The sound of it was sickening and the look on their faces just before we hit them was pathetic. I thank the gods we weren’t using swords. I don’t think even the hardest of us could have withstood that guilt.
When they finally retreated, what remained was a long pile of moaning Banshee and Brownie bodies lying twisted in a heap three deep.
Since we had no provisions to take prisoners, a detail of soldiers was chosen to untangle and roll the unconscious aggressors back down the hill. Among them were Nieve and her little cabal of sorceresses. They stuck most of the enemy in the leg with one of my aunt’s special paralysing pins – when they woke up, they found it difficult to use that leg for a day or so. It would make a little bit of a difference but not much. Cialtie’s forces were still substantially larger than ours.
It was too late for my uncle to mount another attack. Since he knew he had the upper hand and we had little chance for reinforcements by tomorrow, they simply backed out of archery range and made camp.
‘Well, it looks like we won round one,’ I said to Spideog.
‘War is scored with the dead, Conor,’ the old warrior said. ‘This battle has yet to begin.’
I continued with my morale-man job, dispensing pep talks as deemed necessary for a while, and then went to headquarters to check if I was needed or maybe get a little nap in. I caught my Aunt Nieve by surprise and she quickly turned away and wiped her eyes.
‘Are you OK?’ I asked.
She tried to put on a brave face but at the last second she told the truth. Her voice wobbled as she said, ‘No,’ and sat down.
That was an answer I wasn’t ready for. Of all people Nieve was the last person I would have expected to crack under pressure. I sat on the arm of her chair and put my hand on her shoulder.
‘How did he die?’ she asked, not looking at me.
That question hit me like a slap. How should I answer that? How did Brendan die? If I was truthful I would have told her that one of her spells made him powerless to move while he was burned alive, but instead I said, ‘It was instant, and painless, he wouldn’t have even known what hit him.’
That seemed to do the job. She wiped her face, stood up and said, ‘Right, we have a battle to prepare for, yes?’
‘Actually I was hoping to have a kip. Do you think that’s OK?’
‘Of course,’ she said as we gave each other a proper hug. ‘You may be our Prince but you’re still just a Faerie.’
I nodded and left for my tent. I understood what she meant but it still didn’t sound right.
I willed myself to not dream but that didn’t work. Once again in dreamland I zoomed to my father’s side. I have to admit that even though I would never abandon my comrades, I’d be lying if at that moment flying away to Castle Dudersn’t what I truly wished I could do.
It was well after midnight when I awoke. I walked to the battlements and found Spideog with a very short Imp sorceress. The sorceress mumbled over an arrow and then handed it to the old archer, who notched it into the biggest bow I had ever seen. He let it fly and I lost it in the night sky. I started to look away but Spideog said, ‘Keep watching.’
As the lost arrow began to descend, it started to glow then it exploded on top of a tent, showering it in flames. Screaming and cursing could be heard wafting up from the enemy camp.
‘You havin’ fun?’ I asked.
‘We are not sleeping tonight,’ Spideog said. ‘There is no reason why they should.’
We spent the rest of the night lobbing arrows into Cialtie’s camp. By morning Essa, Yogi, Dahy and Nieve had all joined us and we giggled like schoolchildren every time Spideog let an arrow fly. Some of Spideog’s archery students tried their hand with the big bow but none of them was as good as the Master. It was amazing how many tents he hit even though he couldn’t see them until they went up in flames.
With the troops assembled at the ramparts, Dahy asked me if I wanted to address them again. I told him I had already done my bit and maybe he should do it. He didn’t disagree.
‘Today will be different from yesterday,’ Dahy said, raising his gruff voice. ‘Today, we use swords – today, there will be blood. But the first victim of your sword should not be your enemy, it should be the little voice inside you that is saying that this battle is already lost. You must find that voice and kill it – because all is not lost. I would not have us here if it was. I have trained you and I know what you can do – and this – together – we can do. Today there will be swords – today there will be blood – let us make sure that the blood that runs is not ours. Let us make sure that those who would take away who we are will pay for their arrogance. Today there will be blood and today we shall endure.’
The crowd went wild. I patted my old master on the back and said, ‘Awesome, dude.’
Spideog turned to Dahy and said, ‘I thought it was a bit flowery,’ then he smiled and the two old rivals shook each other’s hand.
‘Are you ready to go into battle with me again – old friend?’ Dahy said.
‘Who are you calling old,’ Spideog replied. ‘By the by, remind me that I have to tell you something when this is all over.’
Dahy was just about to ask what, when someone cried, ‘Incoming!’ and the battle began.
The sky blackened with arrows. We all ducked behind the battlements and watched in horror as soldiers who were caught out in the open scrambled for cover. Then I saw a conch shell hit the ground about twenty-five feet behind me. This one, unlike the ones yesterday, wasn’t smoking. I peeped over the battlements and seeing that
