Borne of Fire

Chapter 47

By the time Braxter reached the Western gate Randyl was already outside, pacing back and forth impatiently. The guard had explained on the way to the gate that it had been him who had personally seen the outrider on the horizon and had run immediately to the Baron's chambers to bring the news to Randyl. The outrider was visible to them all by now - approaching at a gallop across the open plains to the West of Boreham with his red flag unfurled behind him like some giant sail.

Ja'aris had gone through the gates and stood silently, thumbs hooked into his belt while Randyl stalked back and forth like a caged animal. Closer and closer the rider came on at full tilt, they could see his legs kicking as he urged his mount to run faster.

"Are you alright Braxter?" L'non asked from beside him. "You've gone very pale."

"Feel sick." Was all the reply he could manage and he clamped his teeth down as his stomach tried to prove just how sick he felt.

"The waiting's the worst part. But by the looks of this we won't have much more waiting to do." L'non's attempt at comfort did nothing for Braxter who mumbled something incoherently about the pain and death part of a battle surely being worse. L'non seemed not to hear him or if he did hear, he chose not to respond and so they stood in silence as the rider bore down on Randyl and Ja'aris. A number of other guards had joined them by now either being alerted to the site of the outrider by other look-outs elsewhere on the wall or by the clamour they had made running through the castle.

The sun shone down clear and bright and a light wind blew cold but not uncomfortably so. In fact, due perhaps to Braxter's current feeling of nausea, he found it quite refreshing. At any other time, in other circumstances he would most likely have found the day to be a rather pleasant one and he wondered wistfully if he would ever experience one of those again.

The rider reined his mount in as he approached, his red flag dropping immediately to trail along the ground behind him and he leapt from the horse in one swift motion when he reached them.

Randyl spoke to him briefly and although Braxter couldn't make out what words were said his stomach flipped at the reaction of his friend who shook the rider by the hand and then turned and began to walk back through the gates in the wall. Ja'aris followed quickly behind, a smile closer to a grimace spread across his face.

"The waiting, it appears, may well be over" rumbled L'non into the cold air as Randyl approached, his stony gaze holding none of the dark humour of Ja'aris.

Braxter didn't think he could speak. His stomach felt like it was full of ice and for some reason his jaws were aching. Then he realised that he was still clenching his teeth. He tried to relax them and failed so he was glad when L'non spoke for him, asking just the questions he wanted but was unable to ask for himself.

"How many?"

"Near three thousand." Randyl replied to a chorus of gasps from the assorted guards who had gathered there.

"How long?" L'non continued. Randyl paused, his eyes flicking to Braxter before his face creased and try as he might, he couldn't stop the smile from spreading, his teeth exposed - white and pointed.

"Today." He almost whispered but it was loud enough to carry in the silence so that everyone there could hear. "They'll be here before sunset."

Braxters stomach cramped and his mouth filled with saliva. Oh Gods, don't let me throw here he thought to himself as he bent double with his hands on his knees. It was only as he realised that of all the things he could be asking of the Gods, their intervention on that particular matter was perhaps not the most productive thing he could be asking for. He almost laughed to himself. Almost. Instead another cramp seized his stomach and he stayed where he was - bent double at the waist - certain now that he was going to be sick. He was aware of movement all around him as the guards readied themselves for the imminent battle. Runners were sent for to carry orders to the different assembled troops and voices began to call out instructions like "Ready the horse!" and "Pikemen - assemble at the double!" It all seemed too real, too much like it was actually happening now and he was just being swept along with it. There was going to be a battle - an actual battle - against a force of nearly three thousand monstrous beasts and for some reason he'd managed to get caught up in it and there wasn't a thing he could do to get out of it. Yes, he thought I'm definitely going to be...