Morgan Rice - Night of the Bold

Dozens more ships followed in their wake, sailing full speed into the chains, all trying to pursue Seavig into the harbor. Their bloodlust got the better of them, and their ships cracked and broke up into the quickly forming graveyard in the sea. The chains held, and Seavig’s men let out a cheer as it was clear they were now safe from the main Pandesian fleet, locked out of the harbor.

Soon the water was littered with the wood of thousands of Pandesian ships, debris piled high. Floating amongst these were the corpses of thousands more soldiers, floating on their stomachs, food for the sharks that quickly materialized and snatched them up. The destruction and chaos was intense as the Pandesian fleet was dismantled ship by ship.

Seavig now prepared himself to fight the battle on the other front. He turned and looked back to shore, and he remembered they were not safe yet. There were still hundreds more Pandesian ships here, inside the harbor, on this side of the chain line. They began to rally, to close in on Seavig, and he knew he had to do something quick or die at their hands.

“THE LOCKS!” he cried again.

Seavig steered his ship toward the massive stone levers which he knew would be embedded in the side of Ur’s original canals. He had sailed this harbor many times as a boy with his father’s fleet, and he knew all the locks’ locations, the same locations the locks were placed in Esephus. In times of war, the locks could be used to drain the harbor, to drain the canals, and to spare the city an attack by water. If the locks could be lowered, the seawall could be raised, protecting the harbor, sealing it off from the sea, and draining the city. It was, Seavig knew, the key to final victory.

Their ship finally slammed into the seawall, and Seavig wasted no time. He raced across the deck with his men, and they reached out and threw ropes, securing their ship to the wall. They all crowded in and reached out, desperate to grab hold of the massive stone lever. Seavig led the way, and he reached out and grabbed hold of the ancient lever, as big as he, protruding from the seawall. Several of his men joined in as he pushed down with all he had, all of them groaning from the effort.

Yet it would not budge.

A cannon boomed, a cannonball splashed in the water beside their ship, and Seavig, sweating, turned to see the ships closing in. He knew that their next shot would be accurate. He had no time. If these locks failed, he and his men would surely die here.

“HARDER!” Seavig cried. “Push with all you have!”

Dozens more of his men rushed forward, and as one, they all pushed harder and harder, yanking at the ancient stone lever until their hands turned raw. Seavig thought he might die from the effort.

And then, finally, it happened. To Seavig’s joy, the massive lever began to budge. There came the sound of stone scraping stone, as inch by inch, it began to move.

They gained momentum, and there came a great whooshing noise. Seavig looked over and was amazed as he watched the ancient seawall rising up through the waters, higher and higher, slowly sealing off the harbor. They groaned from the effort as they slowly finished securing the lock and the seawall rose all the way, blocking off the harbor of Ur from the rest of the sea.

At the same time, huge drainage pipes were opened alongside the canals, and the sound of gushing water filled the air. The waters that had flooded the city of Ur began to recede as quickly as they had flooded it. It drained so quickly that Seavig felt his ship rocking beneath him, and he looked down to see his boat sinking as the water level dropped, lower and lower.

Seavig felt his stomach dropping as they sank a hundred feet within a minute. As they did, the Pandesian ships in the harbor sank with them. Slowly, all the ancient buildings of the city of Ur began to appear again, as if rising from the grave. Seavig’s heart was lifted as, foot by foot, the city rose again.

Seavig’s ship was soon sitting on dry land, on the seabed, in a dry harbor. He looked out and saw the hundreds of Pandesian ships on dry ground now, too. They all looked down, baffled, clearly not expecting this. Their ships’ hulls, tapered at the bottom, began to sway as they hit the mud, then started to topple.

Moments later, the first ship keeled over, falling flat on its side.

Thousands of Pandesian soldiers, shrieking, fell fifty feet from their ships, down to the muddy ground, some dying on impact. The ones who survived scurried to regain their footing, then drew swords and rushed to attack Seavig’s men.

Seavig would not wait for them.

“Men of Escalon, attack!” Seavig yelled.

He led his men as he grabbed onto the thick ropes and slid his way down to the ground, right before their own ship toppled in the mud. He drew his sword and charged across the muddy ground, his men joining him.

The Pandesians met them in the middle in a great clash of weaponry. Seavig raised his sword high and threw himself into the group of Pandesians, slashing two men at a time, not even slowing to raise his shield. He wheeled around and smashed one with the hilt of his sword in the nose, stabbed another, spun and elbowed a third, and kicked a fourth. He fought like a man possessed, cutting his way through the ranks of the Pandesian soldiers.

Yet still, he and his men were surrounded. Thousands of Pandesian soldiers collected themselves and they were quickly outmanned ten to one in a hand-to-hand battle. He knew they would not last long. They would die here, after all, ironically on foot in a muddy seabed.

There arose a sudden shout and Seavig looked around, confused, wondering where it came from. Then he saw it, high up in the bell towers, in the re-emerging buildings of Ur. There, he was shocked to see, were groups of warriors, men of Ur who had ridden out the flood, had taken refuge in the high ground. Seavig had not noticed them before, but as the city’s water drained lower and lower, he watched as dozens of these men clambered down the buildings, down to the muddy ground of the city of Ur. They let out a great battle cry as they charged across the dry harbor to attack the Pandesians.

The Pandesians turned, caught off guard, and that gave Seavig the precious momentum he needed. He and his men attacked, while the surviving warriors of Ur attacked the Pandesians from the other side. The Pandesians did not know which way to fight first, and soon, sandwiched between them, they fell by the dozens.

Seavig fought and fought until his shoulders grew tired, never relenting until he had no one left to fight.

Finally he stopped and looked around, breathing hard, amazed at the silence. He watched as his men embraced the men of Ur, as he heard shouts of victory rise to the sky, and he realized something, with a gush of relief.

The battle was over.

Ur, once again, was free.

Kyra raced through the skies, gripping Theon’s scales, a bird’s-eye view of the desert beneath her as they dove down, her stomach plummeting, to the other side of the Devil’s Gulch. Gripping the Staff of Truth, Kyra dove down past the steep cliffs, the ocean waves crashing on the other side, and she was no longer overwhelmed by sadness. Her sadness had been replaced by a new emotion: vengeance. Cold, steely vengeance.

It was time to defeat Pandesia once and for all, to set wrongs right in Escalon. Too long had her people been oppressed; for too long had they not stood up to this nation, not risked their lives to make their land free. Finally, the day had come, the day her ancestors had dreamt about, had prophesied for a thousand years. As she flew, leading her people, she felt as if she were making history.

Kyra heard the distant shouts and looked down to see her father’s army below, hundreds of men charging down the other side of the Gulch, all following her as she led the way. She looked up and saw the thousands of Pandesians up ahead, spread out in the wasteland south of the Gulch, all assembling in columns and clearly preparing for a counter-attack. They stretched to the horizon, covering her land, all the way to the Bridge of Sorrows, an entire nation bent on destroying and retaking Escalon.