Morgan Rice: A Charge of Valor

The room grew quiet as the Duke cleared his throat and all eyes turned to him.

“We can defend our city against an attack,” the Duke said slowly. “With our skills and the strength of these walls, we can hold it against an army even five times our numbers—perhaps an army even ten times our numbers. And we have enough provisions to withhold a siege for weeks. Against any regular army, we would win.”

He sighed.

“But the Empire boasts no regular army,” he added. “We cannot defend against one million men. It would be futile.”

He paused.

“But so would surrender. We all know what Andronicus does to his captors. It appears to me that we will all die either away. The question is whether we die on our feet, or die on our backs. I say, we die on our feet!”

The room erupted into a cheer of approval. Erec couldn’t agree more.

“Then we have no other course of action left,” the Duke continued. “We will defend Savaria. We will never surrender. We may die, but we will all die together.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, as the others gravely nodded to each other. It seemed as if they were all searching for another answer.

“There is one other way,” Erec said finally, speaking up.

He could feel all eyes turn and stare at him.

The Duke nodded his way, for him to speak.

“We can attack,” Erec said.

“Attack?” the soldiers called out in surprise. “The few hundred of us, attacking one million men? Erec, I know you are fearless. But are you mad?”

Erec shook his head, deadly serious.

“What you fail to consider is that Andronicus’ men would never expect an attack. We would gain the element of surprise. As you say, sitting here, defending, we will die. If we attack, we can take out a lot more of them; more importantly, if we attack in the right way, and at the right place, we might do more than just hold them back—we might actually win.”

“Win!?” they all called out, looking at Erec, completely bewildered.

“What do you mean?” asked the Duke.

“Andronicus will expect us to be here, to sit back and defend our city,” Erec explained. “His men will never expect us to be holding a random chokepoint outside our city’s gates. Here in the city, we have an advantage of strong walls—but out there, in the field, we have the advantage of surprise. And surprise is always greater than strength. If we can hold a natural chokepoint, we can funnel them all to one spot, and from there we can attack. I speak of the Eastern Gulch.”

“The Eastern Gulch?” a soldier asked.

Erec nodded.

“It is a steep crevice between two cliffs, the only pass-through in the Kavonia Mountains, a good day’s ride from here. If Andronicus’ men come to us, the most direct way will be through the Gulch. Otherwise, they will have to scale the mountains. The road from the north is too narrow and too muddy this time of year—he would lose weeks. And from the south he would have to breach the Fjord River.”

The Duke look admiringly at Erec, rubbing his beard, thinking.

“You may be right. Andronicus may just lead his men through the gulch. For any other army it would be an act of supreme hubris. But for him, with his million men, he might just do it.”

Erec nodded.

“If we can get there, if we can beat them to it, we can surprise them, ambush them. With a position like that, a few can hold back thousands.”

All the other soldiers looked at Erec with something like hope and awe, as the room was blanketed with a thick silence.

“A bold plan, my friend,” the Duke said. “But then again, you are a bold warrior. You always have been” The Duke gestured to an attendant. “Bring me a map!”

A boy ran from the room and came back through another door holding a large scroll of parchment. He rolled it out on the table, and the soldiers gathered around, studying it.

Erec reached out and found Savaria on the map and traced a line with his finger, east, stopping at the Eastern Gulch. A narrow crevice, it sat surrounded by mountains as far as the eye could see.

“It is perfect,” a soldier said.

The others nodded, rubbing their beards.

“I have heard stories off a few dozen men holding off thousands at the gulch,” one soldier said.

“That is an old wives’ tale,” another soldier said, cynically. “Yes, we will have the element of surprise. But what else? We will not have the protection of our walls.”

“We will have the protection of nature’s walls,” another soldier countered. “Those mountains, hundreds of feet of solid cliff.”

“Nothing is safe,” Erec added. “As the Duke said, we die here, or we die out there. I say we die out there. Victory favors the bold.”

The Duke, after a long time rubbing his beard, finally nodded, leaned back and rolled up the map.

“Prepare your arms!” he called out. “We ride tonight!”

Erec, dressed again in full armor, his sword swinging at his waist, marched down the hall of the Duke’s castle, going the opposite way of all the men. He had one important task left before he departed for what could be his final battle.

He had to see Alistair.

Since they had returned from the day’s battle, Alistair had waited in the castle, down the hall in her own chamber, waiting for Erec to come to her. She was waiting for a happy reunion, and his heart sank as he realized he would have to share with her the bad news that he would be leaving again. He felt some sense of peace knowing that she would at least be here, safe within these castle walls, and he felt more determined than ever to keep her safe, to keep back the Empire. His heart ached at the idea of leaving her—he had wanted nothing but to spend time with her since their vow to marry. But it just did not seem meant to be.

As Erec turned the corner, his spurs jingling, his boots echoing in the emptying castle halls, he braced himself for the goodbye, which he knew would be painful. He finally reached an ancient, arched wooden door, and knocked gently with his gauntlet.

There came the sound of footsteps crossing the room, and a moment later, the door opened. Erec’s heart soared, as it did every time he saw Alistair. There she stood, in the doorway, with her long, flowing blonde hair and large crystal eyes, staring back at him like an apparition. She seemed more beautiful every time he saw her.

Erec stepped inside and embraced her, and she hugged him back. She held him tightly, for a long time, not wanting to let go. He did not either. He wished more than anything that he could just shut the door behind him and stay here with her, for as long as he could. But it was not meant to be.

The warmth and feel of her made everything right in the world, and he was reluctant to let go. Finally, he pulled back and looked into her eyes, which were glistening. She glanced down at his armor, his weapons, and her face fell as she realized he was not staying.

“Are you leaving again, my Lord?” she asked.

Erec lowered his head.

“It is not my wish, my lady,” he replied. “The Empire approaches. If I stay here, we will all die.”

“And if you leave?” she asked.

“I will likely die either way,” he admitted. “But this will at least give us all a chance. A tiny chance, but a chance.”

Alistair turned and walked to the window, looking out over the Duke’s courtyard in the setting sun, her face lit by the soft light. Erec could see the sadness etched across it, and he came to her and brushed the hair off her neck, caressing her.

“Do not be sad, my lady,” he said. “If I survive this, I will return to you. And then we shall be together, forever, free from all dangers and threats. Free to finally live our lives together.”