The Seventh Flame

Chapter 8

- Lovis -

Exhaustion pulled Lovis's knees towards the ground, but he refused to fall. The echoes of death and destruction chilled his bones as the surface beneath his feet shook with the incoming army. The last post before the gates of Orran had fallen. Lovis and the men around him were Perdita's last defense.

The evening sky reflected that of the battlefield. Blood red. The setting sun did nothing to help Lovis's worries. Fighting in the dark would not be to their advantage. By morning, there was a good chance that the Kozia army would be through the gates. If they did not receive more men, there was a good chance they'd be slaughtered by then too. Yet, Lovis's thoughts were not on the battle ahead. No, he was not scared for his life. His life did not matter to him, not as much as the lives of his family back home. He could picture the opposing army trampling their house, killing his wife, taking his children.

"Chin up Payne." A man to his left, Wallace, clutched his arm as Lovis swayed on his feet. The corners of his vision were blurring, he'd never felt fear like this before. Never had to. Perdita had never been to war in his lifetime. Before this, being a knight simply meant defending the castle and its lands from idiotic rebels and bandits. He had never faced death before. The sensation of cold fingers caressing the back of his neck was unfamiliar and unsettling. It was the feeling of dread. Heart stopping dread.

"We're all going to die." The man on his other side whimpered, not bothering to hide the shaking in his hands.

"Shut up Ward." Wallace snapped, stepping slightly out of line to glare across Lovis at Ward. "A messenger was sent as soon as the last post fell, backup should not be far away."

"You don't know that. We don't know if they're really coming."

"They're coming." Lovis said more for himself than for Ward. He wanted to believe it was true. He wanted to believe their King would not fail them. He needed to believe.

"You don't know though." Ward's words were drowned out by the loud yell from below.

"You three better get your stuff together because they're coming." The woman who stood in the line in front of them looked over her shoulder. Her lips were pursed together in false confidence, but Lovis knew the glossiness in her eyes wasn't from the smoke. Lovis nodded once and slid his helmet over his head.

It was suffocating.

The narrow slits for their eyes didn't help Lovis's spinning vision. He tried to focus, training his eyes down the mountain pass. Hundreds of bodies moved as one. The marching of their feet like thunder. A mass of red and black. Lovis knew the splashes of red came from their billowing capes, but all he could see was blood. The blood of his kingdom soon to be on their hands. The blood of his family.

Lovis shivered and felt his knees buckle again. Wallace, who's hand was still on his arm, was the only thing that kept him from falling.

A call went out and the sound of bow strings being pulled taught echoed in his ears. A few moments of absolute stillness stretched out before the second call went out and the arrows were released. Although they fell like rain upon the incoming army, with the armor and shields, the arrows didn't do much harm. Not enough to notice at least. Every time a knight fell, there was another to take his place. They were endless and everlasting, a force that would see no end.

There was another call and the arrows that followed were alight with fire. They streaked through the sky like falling stars, breaking up the darkness. Lovis felt his heart fall with them. The Kozia army was at the gates. Banging on the large, thick, oak doors while siege ladders were thrown up against the sturdy walls. It was Lovis's turn to act, and it took all of his strength to do so. Along with the other knights, he surged past those with bows and began to unhinge the ladders from the walls. They managed to push one away, and it fell with men already halfway up. Lovis felt a surge of adrenaline as it crashed down on those waiting below.

That thrill quickly died when, to his right, he saw the dark shapes of the opposing army spilling over the side. They moved like shadows. Swift, agile, dangerous. They had been to war before. They had the scars to prove it.

Lovis had not. Never imagined he would. Perdita was not supposed to be at war. It wasn't something that was supposed to happen. Yet, here he was, driving his sword into the chest of a man dressed in black and red. The man coughed and blood splattered across Lovis's brow. He tried not to flinch as he pulled his sword back out and turned to face another opponent.

There was already another figure charging towards him, their sword gleaming in the moonlight. He blocked their first swing, but not the second. Although it did not pierce his flesh, his challenger's weapon bounced off Lovis's armor and caused him to stumble. His back flattened against the wall's edge and from behind a hand grabbed the side of his head. Someone climbing over the side ripped away his helmet and slammed his skull into the rock wall. As Lovis blinked away the fog from his eyes, his original opponent took this moment to strike again. They drove their weapon through the chainmail on his arm.

Lovis screamed in pain, but no one heard. It was no louder than the others ringing in his ears. It was drowned in the noise of battle.

No. Not battle. This was slaughter.

In that moment, the realization truly dawned on him. Help was not coming. If it were, it would have been there by now. Instead, they had been abandoned. They would die and no one would care. No one but the families they left behind. Lovis thought of his eldest daughter, Flora, and the last words he had spoken to her before he left.

"I came here thinking I would be asking you to take care of our family if I don't return home... but I will not ask that of you. I will come home. I will see you again. I promise."

Lovis had never broken a promise before, and he didn't intend to. He picked up his sword once more and he fought. He no longer cared when his sword met flesh. No longer felt the need to mourn the lives he took. It was either his life or theirs and he had no plans to die.

There was an enraged yell as Lovis slew another enemy and a woman with a short sword in each hand slammed into his side. He was thrown back and tripped over a body sprawled out across the floor. He hit the ground and in seconds, the woman was on top of him, slamming her knee into his chest, placing her sword against his neck. A few words past her lips in a foreign tongue he did not understand. In the time it took her to mumble those few words, she lost her opportunity to kill Lovis. A large body shoved her away and pushed her over the wall to the surging army below.

He found himself smiling at his savior, Wallace, the man who always seemed to be around when Lovis needed him the most. And yet before Lovis could thank him, an arrow appeared in his side. And then another in his back. Wallace crumpled like paper and Lovis dragged himself to his friend's side.

"I- I was wrong, Payne, I was- I was wrong. Reinforcements are not- its not-" Blood trickled from the corner of his lips and the life started to drain from his eyes. Lovis didn't stick around to watch. He didn't want that memory burned into his mind. Of his strong and fearless companion become nothing but a corpse. Instead, he rose to his feet and scanned the battle.

There was death everywhere. The stench of it burned his nostrils and caused his eyes to water.

This wasn't right. None of it was right. He shouldn't be there. He had to leave. He had to go.

Lovis staggered to the wall's stairway, dodging blades and arrows. He rushed down the dark corridors lit only by flickering torches. It was deserted. Everyone was up on the top of the wall. Fighting. To their deaths. Lovis couldn't make himself care. Not right now. All he cared about was seeing his family, one more time.

The punishment for deserting was death, and yet staying here lead to the same fate. At least he would see them one last time before he died.