Richard Tuttle - Winged Warrior

“You were right,” conceded Jackle. “The mayor is surrendering. This has to be the quickest battle ever. I thought the Imperial Guards would at least kill some of the invaders before surrendering. Their first ships are just reaching the shore now.”

“The mayor is wise,” countered Kenda. “We are a farming and fishing city. Even our Imperial Guards are not true warriors. We have no business being involved in battle. Surrender is the appropriate course of action. The mayor understands our limits and sees no shame in admitting defeat. He is saving the lives of the citizens.”

The first of the invaders’ boats ran up on the beach, and soldiers in red uniforms jumped out. Boat after boat landed unopposed and soon hundreds of foreign soldiers were marching through the city. One large group of foreigners marched towards the mayor and the Imperial Guards. The Imperial Guards were easily outnumbered, yet hundreds of more boats were still streaming towards the shore.

“The Imperial Guards are throwing down their swords,” scowled Jackle. “Why have an army if they just give up so easily?”

“Why should they throw their lives away?” retorted Kenda. “There are thousands of invaders. Look, they are still coming ashore. There is no end to them.”

The boys watched the drama unfolding before their eyes. The Imperial Guards tossed their swords and knives into a large pile on the ground as the foreign invaders surrounded them. As soon as the last of the weapons were discarded, the foreign soldiers attacked the Imperial Guards.

“Treachery!” shouted Jackle. “They are killing unarmed men. What a despicable act! The Imperial Guards should have fought them.”

Kenda’s jaw dropped in disbelief as he stared in horror at the massacre below. Within seconds, the entire group of Imperial Guards was dead. The mayor, still holding his white flag was the last to die. Kenda shook his head and tears welled up in his eyes. His mouth opened to speak, but no words came out.

Jackle excitedly grabbed Kenda’s arm and pointed to a spot deeper into the city. His fingers dug into his friend’s arm as he cried. Kenda pried his gaze away from the Imperial Guards and looked to where Jackle was pointing. The red-clad soldiers where killing everyone they came across, man, woman, and child.

“No!” shouted Kenda, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. “Why?”

“It’s a massacre,” sobbed Jackle. “They are killing everyone.”

Kenda wanted to turn his eyes away from the destruction, but he could not. He watched as red soldiers invaded every part of the city. They instantly killed every person they came across. Some of the citizens tried to resist. Small groups of men raced down alleyways with old swords, shovels, and knives. They carried anything that could be used to kill a fellow human being, but it did not even slow down the invaders. The red-clad soldiers were trained warriors prepared for battle. The citizens were no match for them.

When the streets of the city were empty of the living, the foreign soldiers began to enter the houses. Kenda did not have to guess what was happening inside the homes. He watched as some citizens tried to escape the slaughter by running out the back doors of the houses, but the foreign soldiers were waiting for them. After each house was searched for citizens, a foreigner tossed a torch inside. Soon the entire city was burning.

“I think that is my father,” Jackle shouted hysterically as he pointed towards his house. “Run, Pa.”

Kenda winced as he watched the foreign soldier strike the man down. He looked across the street and saw his own house burning. He closed his eyes and let the tears flow down his cheeks. When he opened his eyes again, he saw more boats landing on the beach. Men jumped out of the boats, but they did not wear the red uniforms of the others. The new arrivals wore dark hooded cloaks. A chill ran down Kenda’s spine as he watched the hooded men enter the city.

“We have to hide,” Kenda said softly.

“What?” blubbered Jackle. “What are you talking about?”

“Those are mages,” replied Kenda. “Look along the beach. The hooded men are mages.”

“As if they can cause more damage than the soldiers,” snapped Jackle. “Who cares about the mages?”

“We do,” Kenda replied, forcefully calming himself. “They did not need to bring mages ashore to kill the citizens. We need to hide.”

“Why?” asked Jackle. “What do you know that I don’t?”

“The only reason to bring the mages ashore is to find the citizens that the soldiers missed,” explained Kenda as he moved to the nearest crevice and squeezed his body into it. “They do not plan to leave a single person alive. We have to hide before they find us.”

“What does it matter to them if someone survives?” asked Jackle, who refused to leave the ledge.

“I am not sure,” admitted Kenda, “but it does matter to them. Maybe they don’t want anyone left alive to describe their attack? I do not know, but I am positive that we are in danger. Hide in a crevice.”

“They can’t get us up here,” countered Jackle. “Just let those foreigners try to scale the Wall of Mermidion. They will never make it to the top.”

“Neither will we,” retorted Kenda. “I never thought we could make it all the way up, but I didn’t want to spoil your fun. These crevices disappear near the top of the wall. We will have to go back down eventually, but not until the foreigners are gone.”

“I am never going back down there,” declared Jackle. “There is nothing left for me in Duran. I will not return.”

“We will discuss this later,” sighed Kenda. “Get yourself into a crevice before someone looks up here and sees you.”

“I would rather that they saw me,” protested Jackle. “Maybe some of them will die trying to capture me. They cannot climb the Wall of Mermidion, and we can.”

“Jackle,” pleaded Kenda. “Just hide.”

Suddenly, a brilliant flash seared Kenda’s eyes. He heard Jackle emit a ghastly scream that faded to nothing as his friend’s body tumbled down to the base of the Wall of Mermidion. Kenda closed his eyes tightly and cried.

For hours, Kenda remained hidden in the crevice, listening to the distant sounds from below. First came the sounds of warfare, screams, shouts, the clashing of steel. An eerie silence followed after a while, broken only occasionally by the crash of a collapsing building. Kenda turned his head and peered out of the crevice. Tall columns of smoke billowed upward from the burning city. Kenda wondered if anything would be left of the city when he descended.

Eventually, new sounds drifted up to his perch on the Wall of Mermidion. Kenda eased his body downward and crawled out of the crevice, keenly aware of the need to keep his head low. He crawled to the edge of the cliff and stared downward. Duran was utterly destroyed. Wooden buildings had become heaps of ashes and smoldering debris. Where stone buildings had stood, piles of broken rock littered the ground. Thousands of men in red uniforms swarmed through the city, poking into the piles of rubble as they passed by.

Kenda’s eyes were drawn to the city well. Around it stood over a hundred dark-hooded men. Kenda tried to make sense of the needless slaughter, but he could not comprehend it. He thought about the local farmers, and how they became obsessed with ridding their farms of moles. It was the only thought about complete annihilation that he could come up with, but he failed to see how the citizens of Duran could be considered a threat to anyone. It made no sense to the Sakovan boy.

As Kenda was watching the men around the well, he saw one of them point upward towards the Wall of Mermidion. A chill shivered through Kenda’s body as he watched the large group of mages turn their eyes towards him. He dared not move, his eyes frozen on the well and the men around it. Eventually, the mages stopped looking in his direction, and Kenda sighed with relief. The respite from fear was brief.