John Lenahan - Prince of Hazel and Oak

He looked up, smiled at me, then stood, instantly regaining his innate heroic stance. ‘You have your grandmother’s eyes, you know.’

‘You must tell me about her sometime.’

‘I will, when this is all over.’ He laughed to himself as he turned. ‘I might even do better than that.’

He jogged back to his post without giving me a chance to ask him what he meant.

Back on the battlements the sun rose to its zenith in a crystal-clear blue winter sky. The heat was welcome as it allowed us to believe that the sweat that was dripping down our backs was caused by the sun and not our jangling nerves.

In Cialtie’s camp there could be heard orders being barked and bugle-sounding things being played as the army of Banshees and Brownies readied for their main offensive. Essa dropped in next to me.

‘Dahy thinks that the attack will be soon,’ she said. ‘Are you ready?’

‘Born ready,’ I said automatically. As I scanned the horizon I felt Essa reach down and entwine her fingers in mine. I looked at her, she was fierce and scared and oh so achingly beautiful – all at the same time. She leaned in and kissed me. I placed my hands gently on her shoulders and pushed her back.

‘We are not going to die,’ I said.

She turned away, looking out over the field and then I felt her tense up like the strings of a tennis racket. She pointed to the edge of the rise. I followed the line of her finger and saw hundreds of screaming soldiers charge into view.

‘Tell that to them,’ she said as she drew her sword.

What must have been a thousand Brownies and Banshees swarmed onto the stone plain. They looked like those red army ants that you see in old Tarzan movies. I was half expecting the fallen to end up as stone-white skeletons.

As soon as they got into range, our arrows flew. The fallen were not even considered by their comrades – if the arrows didn’t kill them then the trampling surely must have. The same fate awaited those that tripped on the stone field. Just behind the first wave were a line of siege ladders carried by teams of three. The ladders had shields strapped to the front so as to protect the carriers from all but the sharpest archers who aimed for their heads and legs. Spideog assigned his best bowmen for that task and they had a reasonably high measure of success. Still, any ladder bearer that was hit was instantly replaced by another. The ladders clambered closer.

All the while volleys of arrows came at us from the back of the enemy’s advance. Dahy’s ramparts were designed well, giving cover as well as enough gaps for the archers to continue shooting even while arrows were flying in. One gleem arrived during the first part of the attack but was swiftly taken care of by the special gleem-team that Nieve had equipped with gold earplugs.

The enemy soldiers that reached the ramparts huddled together under their shields in an arrow-proof phalanx. The ones that did this too close to the walls had boulders thrown at them by teams of very brawny Leprechaun miners. The huge rocks smashed into the shields then the archers finished them off.

I’d like to be able to say that I was appalled by all of this bloodshed but as those ladders drew closer and with the realisation that this screaming horde was hell bent on killing me, it caused a bloodlust to explode in my brain. Some men never get over this experience and sell themselves as mercenaries for the rest of their lives in order to feel that savage passion again. As for me I have no want to repeat the experience but I would be lying if I said it was unpleasant. In fact it was damn exciting. Never have I felt so alive. It was kill or be killed and every fallen enemy soldier was one that I knew I wouldn’t have to face with my sword and I cheered with the rest of my comrades as each went down.

When the ladders reached the ramparts I finally got to use my sword. It was a good blade but heavier and nowhere near as finely balanced as the Sword of Duir. I missed the Lawnmower. I had a fleeting image of the last time I saw it, sticking out of the underbelly of Dragon Red. A ladder hit below my gap in the wall. I tried to reach down and push it but it was just out of reach. Leprechaun boulder tossers were engaged elsewhere so I waited for the first of the Brownies to climb the ladder. He reached the top in no time and we engaged in a pointless just out-of-reach sword-fight where we clinked sword tips but were too far away from each other to make serious contact. My father’s sword-fighting instructions sprang into my head. ‘When an attack ceases to make sense,’ he once said to me, right before he tripped me over a low wire he had earlier set up in the garden, ‘look around – something else might be happening.’ I continued to swing but looked under the ladder and saw another Brownie with a crossbow taking aim at my nose. I ducked back just in time to avoid a bolt in the brain.

A gleem came over the wall far to my right. The gleem-team got to it quickly but not in time to prevent a couple of Banshees from clearing the ramparts. They fought and another five were allowed to reach the top before they were thrown back over. Ladders had now reached almost every part of the rampart wall. All of the ladders seemed to me to be too low. It made them difficult for us to repel by pushing them over but it also made it extremely difficult for the enemy to breach the top of the walls. It didn’t make sense. I used my father’s advice again and scanned the length of the battlements. That’s when I noticed that under every ladder was a team of two soldiers crouched down fiddling with something at the base of the wall.

I shouted to Dahy, ‘SOMETHING IS HAPPENING UNDER THE LADDERS.’

As he looked, a horn was blown and all the attackers dropped from their ladders and ran away from the wall.

‘RETREAT!’ Dahy shouted. ‘EVERYONE OFF THE BATTLEMENTS!’

Having been a student of the Master I didn’t have to hear a Dahy order twice. I flew off my post and into the midst of the Hall of Knowledge. A few of my comrades were not so lucky. The explosions blew a dozen holes in our defences. The Leprechauns and Imps who were on the wall were thrown twenty feet in the air.

‘BACK TO THE AISLES,’ Dahy ordered. ‘BACK TO THE AISLES.’

Our secondary defence was what Dahy had called ‘The Aisles’. We had knocked down some of what was left of the Hall’s walls and reinforced others. The idea was to force any advancing army into narrow channels – aisles, allowing us to battle one or two abreast as opposed to a huge wave of marauders. Archers were positioned so as to shoot anyone that tried to come over the top.

The air hadn’t even cleared when the Banshees, covered with the white dust of the explosions, came screaming out of the smoke. Dahy had said that there would be blood; well, this was the time he was talking about. I don’t know how many I killed. All I know is that they weren’t very well trained. They had strength and the energy that adrenalin brings but they all swung madly and allowed me to parry their wild swings to the outside and stab them in the chest, or the shoulder if they were wearing a breast protector. May the gods forgive me but what else could I do?

Even though I was killing many, I gave ground with almost every clash and I was getting tired. An Imp finally grabbed me from behind, pulled me back into the Hall and took my place at the front of the aisle.

I found Dahy barking orders outside of the library. On my left a bunch of Banshees broke through and Yogi, as a bear, roared into them, throwing two into the air and shing the others into a retreat, while Dahy ordered swordsmen back into that aisle. This battle was not going well and it was just about to get a whole lot worse.