The Battle -- A Prequel

"Good morning, Mother," Marisa said, bending to kiss her mother on the cheek. The older woman looked up from her coffee into her daughter's green eyes.

"Good morning, Daughter," Reetha replied, as she had every morning since her youngest child had learned to speak. As she watched her daughter, now a woman grown, gracefully walk to the stove to pour herself a mug of coffee, she smiled. For a fleeting moment, she saw the little redheaded whirlwind that had always ran through the kitchen in the mornings only to leap onto her lap for a kiss.

"My little girl is a warrior now" she whispered.

Marisa looked up from her coffee, confused. "What did you say, mother?"

"Nothing, dear. It is nearly time for your brother to leave for the day. Will you pack him his lunch, dear?" Marisa nodded. Trelin, her baby boy, had grown up as well. He was now a strong man who chopped enough wood to provide for an entire town. As if on cue, she heard her eldest child tromping through the living area. She laughed silently.. Graceful, he was not.

"Good morning, Marisa, mother," Trelin said, kissing each in turn. He took the cup of coffee his sister offered, then pulled her long, red braid for good measure. He regretted it instantly. She had his arm pinned behind his back in under a second. He grunted and struggled not to spill the hot coffee. "I would do well to remember you are no longer in pigtails," he muttered.

"Yes, you would, Woodsman," she teased. Laughing, she let him go. Reetha only watched. She remembered the way her son would torment his sister, ten years his junior. She thought it high time that her 18 year old daughter got a little revenge.

"What is all this?" Meran called as he entered the kitchen, trying to look stern.

"Father!" Both Marisa and Trelin called in unison. The big man laughed and hugged both his children. He then stood and looked at his wife. "How beautiful she is" he thought. Reetha stood, laughter in her eyes, as her husband wrapped his big arms around her. The plate mail he wore was cold, but his arms were safe and warm. Though she was a warrior in her own right, he still managed to make her feel protected.

"Well, Sir Meran," she said with mock formality, "I take it there is a meeting this morning?"

"Yes," he said, puzzled, "Though I do not know why," with that he sat and ate breakfast with his family, deciding he was the luckiest man in all of Locansville, possibly the whole of Loerth.

Soon Reetha found herself alone in the tidy little cottage. Trelin had hefted his axe and bid the family farewell, followed quickly by his father and sister. Marisa had decided to go into town and visit an old family friend that morning. Reetha smiled to herself as she went about the small chores that make a house a home.

Levina groaned and rolled over. She wondered vaguely how an entire army of dwarves with pickaxes had found their way into her head. When she opened her eyes, she groaned again, but for a different reason. She was in a cell. . .again. Sitting up, she took stock. Other than her rapier and daggers, which the guard undoubtedly had, everything seemed to be there.

Levina looked at her cellmates with disgust. She had little respect for the women who opted to sell their bodies rather than their swords. The small cell reeked of cheap perfume and even cheaper sex. It never occurred to her that in her tight men's trousers and low-cut blouse, she wasn't wearing much more than they were.

"Levina," the knight in charge called as he opened the cell.

"Yes, Sir Reynald?" She stood, and the young man's mouth went dry.

"I-I. . .I mean, your cousin is here to get you," he swallowed hard as he watched her saunter past him and out of the cell. He didn't even notice the cell's other occupants as he closed the door.

Levina looked the knight over thinking it was a pity he was still a boy. She smiled at him and said, "Thank you. Do you have my weapons?"

Levina rolled her eyes. She had been so hoping that it was Trelin, not Miss High and Mighty Marisa. She took her rapier and daggers, noticing that her cousin held the long knives carefully in gloved hands to protect herself from the poisoned tips.

"Good morning, Marisa," Levina said carefully, minding her hangover.

"Yes it is a good morning, and I have better things to do than play nursemaid to you," Marisa allowed the heavy door to slam loudly. Levina winced in pain and watched Marisa stalk off towards Joran's small home near the mage's guild. The blond woman shrugged and swallowed the thank you she would have offered. She headed for the tavern to find out how she wound up in the knight's company in the first place.

Marisa was still fuming about her unexpected trip to the barracks when she knocked on Joran's door. Her face broke into a smile when the small elf in mage's robes answered the door.

"Marisa! What an unexpected pleasure, come in!" the mage said happily. He was always pleased to see his friends. He had chosen at a young age to live in town. Unlike other elves, he enjoyed the noise and excitement that humans seemed to carry with them everywhere. He found others of his kind to be staunchy and reserved, He had buried entire generations of his friends, but was pleased that there always seemed to be new friends to be made.

Marisa listened while her families oldest friend chattered about small things wile he went about making tea. As if he sensed her mood, he lit the fire under the kettle with a wave of hi hand and a magic word. She smiled. That had always been one of her favorite spells. So simple on the surface, yet so complicated underneath. Just like Joran, she though.

"So, what brings you into town this morning?" Joran asked as he settled into a chair.

"I came to see you, of course. I had to take a side trip to the barracks. Levina was in jail, surprise, surprise," with that, Marisa's scowl returned.

"I see. I must find out what adventure brought her there this time. Sugar?" he asked, smiling.

Marisa laughed, giving up her dark mood. She could never hold onto a good sulk when faced with his unflagging cheerfulness. She accepted the sugar and settled in for a nice, long visit.

Sir Meran sat in Sir Wilhelm's office, waiting uneasily. Scattered about the room in full armor were the other four captains. Sitting to his left was Sir Martin, captain of the barracks jail guards. To his right sat the captain of the barracks themselves, Sir Rendolph. Leaning on the wall next to the closed door was Sir Timothy, captain of perimeter security. Sir Marcus, captain in charge of the town guard, was leaning on the desk. Meran himself was the captain in charge of the security of the surrounding farms and homesteads. Since such formal meetings were seldom held, each captain worried in silence.

The door suddenly opened and everyone stood at stiff attention. The sound of metal on metal rang in the small room. The man in the doorway winced at the deafening cacophony of sound.

"At ease gentleman. Gently, please, I'm getting too old for this," Sir Wilhelm said as he made his way to his desk. Everyone returned to their seats as quietly as possible. Sir Marcus, however, opted to lean on the wall instead of the desk in deference to Sir Wilhelm's rank of General.

"Gentlemen, we have a problem. As you well know, Kingsville fell to Loerth's army a month ago. That makes us the last free town in Loerth," Sir Wilhelm looked worn and weary as the other men nodded, "The Elven Nation has managed to remain neutral and inconspicuous thus far, as have the Dwarven Mountain Dwellers.

"I sent Sir Joshua to Kingsville disguised as a mercenary. He returned last night. He spent the night in debriefing. I will let him tell you what he has learned. Timothy, if you would let him in," with that, he settled back into his chair. The aging knight ran a hand through his gray hair and worried. He knew what was coming next.

The large ebony skinned Sir Timothy opened the door to admit a young, unkempt man in scarred leather armor. Upon closer inspection he recognized one of his more promising sergeants under the week's growth of beard on the young man's face.

"Sirs," the young man said, coming to stiff, albeit quiet, attention. The other six men nodded acknowledgement.

"Joshua, please give your report to these gentlemen. We're all friends here, son, so at ease before you hurt yourself," Sir Wilhelm smiled kindly at the young knight.

The young man relaxed a bit, "When I arrived in Kingsville, I entered the tavern and waited. True to our intelligence reports, Loerth himself entered the tavern and invited all interested parties to join his army. I went and learned that they were to begin marching to Locansville the following day. I slipped away at the earliest opportunity and returned here," the eager young knight stopped there and looked pleadingly at Sir Wilhelm.

"Thank you, son. I'll take it from here. GO home and change, kiss your wife, and return here. Timothy will need you soon enough." Sir Wilhelm told the man who had married his daughter. With a nod, Joshua hurried away to warn his wife.

:What the young man did not want to say," Sir Wilhelm said as the door closed behind the worried husband and father, "Is that, if our calculations are correct, and I believe they are, Loerth's men will descend upon us by nightfall."

Everyone in the room gasped at the devastating news. Meran thought of his wife and two children. He glanced around, realizing everyone in this room had families as well, He waited for Sir Wilhelm to continue.

"Each of you is to gather your men and brief them quickly. Then, everyone is to take a half hour to warn their families to take up arms an prepare. Then, each knight is to report to his emergency post. May Leesha have mercy on us all. Dismissed."

Meran followed the others from the room. He grabbed the first of his men he could find and ordered him to round up the others to meet at his home. It would be easier to mobilize to the surrounding area from there. Each of his men lived outside the city for that very reason. He hurried to Joran's tiny cottage.

". . .And then, when you tried to explain to that knight that you WEREN'T a lady of the evening, that you were actually a mercenary, the guy told you to prove it. I figure he must be new, not to know you, as Meran's niece, if nothing else. You tried to pull your daggers, but all you succeeded in doing was dropping them at his feet. Everyone was still laughing about it this morning!" Jendar explained, laughing.

Levina looked at her old partner, taking in his graying hair and the lines on his face. She realized suddenly how much her chosen occupation made many old far beyond their years. She thanked Leesha every day that at 30 she still retained her looks.

"You know," she said slowly, "if anyone else told that tale to me with a smile on their face, they would not live to see another sunset," her threat may have worked, if not for the smile she was desperately trying to hide. The man just grinned.

"Levina?" Sir Reynald said quietly, walking up to the table. He was worried. The news was just beginning to spread as knights rushed home to warn unsuspecting families of the danger. His own father, a lieutenant in the barracks, was on his way home at this very moment. Since he was available, Sir Reynald had been given messenger duty.

"Yes, Sir Reynald?" Levina replied, her smile fading.

"Sir Wilhelm would like to see you in his office, ma'am," the knight concentrated on her blue eyes to keep his own from wandering.

"Of course. Excuse me," she ran out of the tavern. She glanced over her shoulder, watching the boy hurry off on his next mission. She nearly knocked her uncle down in her haste. She muttered an apology over his questions as she pulled out of his light grasp and hurried on. She knew that the summons could mean only one thing - Loerth.

The mercenary barged into the barracks an straight into Sir Wilhelm's office without knocking, ignoring the cries of "Hey, you can't go in there!" from the knights in the hallway. If she was right, they were all in far too much danger to bother with niceties. Her fear was confirmed by the expression on the aging man's face.

"Sit down, Levina, it is time," Sir Wilhelm said quietly, and her whole world tilted.

Meran brushed off his concern for his niece as he knocked on the door. He knew she could handle herself.

"Come in," the jovial elf said, ushering his old friend in. He took one look at Meran's face and added, "I'll get the wine."

"No time for that," Meran said quietly, "Where is Marisa?"

"In the kitchen. Why?" Joran asked, confused.

"Come, I'll tell you both at once," Meran rushed into the small kitchen.

"Father!" Marisa started to rise, but Meran motioned her to remain seated. With the intuition of family, Marisa realized almost at once that her father was troubled, "What's wrong? What is it?"

"Sit down, Joran. You need to hear this, too," Meran said quietly. He took a deep breath and explained the situation to them. After their first shocked exclamations, they pulled themselves together. He had expected no less from the long lived elf, but his heart swelled with pride at his daughter's reaction. No hysterics for his little girl. An Alave knew how to take action!

"I must get home and get my armor. You'll have to go, of course. Mother will need me," Marisa said, strapping on her sword. She was grateful for the first time that the policy of carrying a weapon at all times had been instituted.

"I can travel quickly when I must. I will go after Trelin," Joran said as he retrieved the spell components he would need.

"Then let us be off," Meran said, holding the door open for his daughter and his dearest friend. He just prayed to Leesha that they would be alright.

Within the allotted hour, the knights stood ready at their posts. Wilhelm looked down from his window, noting with satisfaction that the entire town had mobilized for the attack. Sir Reynald had alerted the clerics, the mages, and the town crier. Each citizen was armed and prepared to defend their homes, mages stood with each captain, and the prayers of the clerics could be heard from the open doorway of the temple. Four knights stood guard there as the clerics prepared to greet the wounded.

The strangest sight by far was the mercenaries. At his request, Levina had hastily hired everyone she knew. Now, standing shoulder to shoulder with the townspeople were dozens of hardened veterans of the many battles with Loerth waged all over the continent. Some had scores to settle with the bearded conqueror, others were there simply for the gold. It didn't matter to him WHY they were there, only that they were there.

As Wilhelm began to pace restlessly, Levina lay sprawled in his chair, calmly cleaning her rapier. She wasn't about to abandon the only father she had ever known. They had buried her father less than a year after her birth. No one was taking Wilhelm away from her without a fight!

As Wilhelm returned to the window, the entire town seemed to be holding its breath.

While the town was still scrambling to prepare for the siege, Meran was giving brisk orders to a neat row of men, ". . . remember what I said. You will be in a world of trouble if I find you out there dead! Dismissed!" After a smart salute, the soldiers departed for their assigned destinations. He would join them shortly. He had to do what those young men had already done. He had to arm his family for battle.

"Father, what is this about Loerth?" Trelin rushed up to his father. Joran is not far behind. Panic flickered briefly in his eyes. He was, after all, a woodsmen, not a soldier.

"True, son," Meran replied sadly, placing a hand on his son's shoulder, "Sadly, it is all too true," They hurried inside together.

Soon they were all gathered in the kitchen, armed and ready. Mother and daughter stood side by side in gleaming platemail, prepare to defend what was theirs. Trelin stood, nervously, in supple leather armor, praying harder than he ever had before. In the background, alone, stood Joran. He would make his stand here with the family he had long ago adopted as his own. Meran listened to the nervous chatter, the "chink" of armor. And smiled. Though less disciplined than the knights he commanded, they would fight just as hard. Win or lose, the tyrant was in for the fight of his life.

Though outwardly calm, inside, Reetha was trembling. As she gazed at her husband, she saw a knight from another time. SO long ago, her father had kissed her goodbye as her mother explained that other boys and girls needed him to protect them. Her seven year old heart had demanded to know why he didn't stay to protect her. Being a knights daughter, she'd stiffened her lip and said nothing. He'd returned a month later in a pine box. She'd picked up his sword a week later, almost toppling under its weight. It hung at her side now, and she would use it to protect her own.

As Meran opened his mouth to speak, the hue and cry of the knights sounded from the forest. Very quietly, he said, "They're here."

As the invaders attacked, the knights fought valiantly to preserve their very way of life. It wasn't long before they were overwhelmed, however. Soon enough, the Alave family and Joran where locked in a life or death struggle of their own. Five people couldn't stop an advancing army, and in a relatively short time, Locansville joined the battle.

Joran stood apart from the battle, elevated by a small hill. He hurled his spells to his friend's best advantage. Soon enough he tired, though, and he was rapidly running out of spells. When the red bearded conqueror himself appeared, Joran didn't have much left.

Loerth towered above his army as he watched the mage fight fatigue. He had been watching the small Elf since the battle began. He had realized very quickly that the mage's blood burned with the magic of his people. Jealousy swelled inside the bearded lord. The Elves seemed to have a magic deep in their souls that no one could learn. They learned even the most difficult spell with ease. Though Loerth reveled in the power of his true nature, he couldn't learn, kill, or steal what the Elves had. Hate burned in his gut, a hate born of fear. He had never actively sought out the Elves, and that shamed him. This jealousy and fear boiled over into rage, and he sent a spell in the mage's direction. A simple spell, just to test the other casters endurance. He smiled to himself, thinking, "Now we shall see what we see."

Just as Joran noticed Loerth step from the rear of the army, a lightening bolt crashed at the elf's feet. He looked up, stunned, only to see a knowing look, and a challenge, in the bearded human's eyes. Exhausted and out of spells, Joran gathered every ounce of his strength to cast a spell well beyond even his considerable power. Just as he uttered the last word, he heard Marisa scream. He looked and saw Meran fall on top of his shattered sword. As Joran's limp body crumpled to the ground, a single tear rolled down his cheek.

Loerth watched the knowledge dawn on the Elf's face. That was the last thing he saw. Everything went dark! He screamed and covered his eyes. His personal mage came to him. "What is it, my lord?"

"I'm blind! The Elf blinded me!" Loerth bellowed.

"A spell, sir?" Cermin inquired.

"He is a magic user, you fool, of course it was a spell. HELP ME!" Loerth raged at the innocent mage.

"Of course, Lord Loerth," the elderly human mage replied calmly. He was well used to his master's rages. He was often convinced that every gray hair on his head was due to Loerth. He quickly cast a spell to negate the other users spell. Luckily for Loerth - and him, the mage was more knowledgeable than the elf, though not by much, and the spell disintegrated.

Meanwhile, the battle raged on. Marisa watched in horror as her mother fell. In her anger and grief, she ran the hobgoblin who had stolen her mother through with her sword. As she turned to call to her brother, she saw an arrow flying at his exposed back. She screamed his name as she dove to intercept the projectile.

"NO!" Trelin cried as the arrow hit his sister's armor. Marisa lay at his feet, unconscious. He screamed again, thinking she was dead. He realized quickly her armor had saved her. The angle of the arrow was off and her armor deflected it, so she was merely unconscious.

The young man turned to watch Loerth calmly order his army to join the others in town. The bearded man turned his back on the woodcutter. Raging at the indignity, he leapt. A hobgoblin stopped him by simply cuffing him across the face. Trelin, exhausted and already injured, fell unconscious at its feet. The creature hurried on to a battle with more honor. Their was no honor in killing a weakling such as this child.

As the army marched on, the forest was once again silent. No one saw the white robed woman appear out of thin air. She surveyed the carnage that evil had wrought. As she stood over the body of Joran, the goddess wept. She stooped to kiss the Elf on the forehead before disappearing as quickly as she had appeared.

The battle for the town itself continued well after nightfall. Loerth stood on the town wall and watched his troops with satisfaction. Though he lost many of his own men in the battle, every enemy that fell was, to him, a personal victory. The cries of pain, the wails of grief, all of the chaos belonged to him. He WAS the most powerful being in all of Loerth. He only wished he could observe the battle for the barracks personally. He sighed with disappointment and contented himself with the carnage in the streets.

Inside the barracks Sir Wilhelm watched Loerth from his window. The bastard was enjoying this. He was smirking, for Leesha's sake! The knight wished with all his heart for his bow and an arrow. Just one arrow to put in that man's black heart. He turned to see Levina calmly sitting in his chair, her feet on his desk. He thought, not for the first time, that his adopted niece had nerves of steel. She didn't even seem to be shaken by the sounds of battle raging just outside the door.

Levina, on the other hand, was fuming inside. She wanted to be out there, fighting, She knew that Wilhelm needed her, so she stayed put. She remembered the first advice Jendar had ever given her. "Remember, no one knows what is in your heart. No matter how angry, how afraid, how nervous you are, be calm. The secret to controlling the situation is to control your own emotions first. Then you will be able to think clearly and act accordingly. Also, it will confuse the enemy!" She held on to the memory of his voice. She had watched him fall as the sun set, but had no time now to mourn.

The door splintered and she placed the ring on her finger. She watched Wilhelm start at her sudden disappearance, then recover and pull his sword. The inside of the office was quickly enveloped in the chaos of battle. Levina blocked out everything but Wilhelm. She watched him fight valiantly. She was there to protect him, to watch his back. The town needed the knights, and the knights needed their general. Before long she saw an orc sneaking up behind her charge as he was holding three others at bay. She raced over and ran her rapier through the attacker just in time. She reappeared at this time and took over two of the orcs as Wilhelm vanquished the other. He gave her a look of gratitude. She grinned, then disappeared again.

Well into the night, Loerth ordered his men to regroup and retreat. He knew that the town was decimated. Most of their able bodied men were dead. He would regroup, call for reinforcement, and return in three month's time. He had a plan. He smiled to himself as he descended the wall and walked off into the woods.

The town cheered as they watched their enemy retreat. Wilhelm knew, however, that this would not be the last they would see of Loerth.

Wilhelm waited while his men regrouped at the barracks. His eyes burned with unshed tears as he mourned every single man who was not there. He then ordered the men to split up and accompany the clerics as they brought the wounded back to the temple. He also instructed his son-in-law, Sir Joshua, to inform the clerics that the barracks would be made available for their use as well. He dismissed them, gathered up Levina, a few knights, and a young cleric named Malynn to search for Sir Meran and his family. Malynn went willingly, as she was a friend to Marisa.

What they found at the cottage nearly killed the aging knight. He raced to Joran's side. He thought for an agonizing moment that he was too late. Then, the small elf took an agonized breath. Relieved, he scooped up the mage and raced back to town with him.

Meanwhile, Levina stood over Trelin, weeping. He was gravely injured and unconscious. Malynn instructed her to carry him back to town. Levina nodded, scooped her injured cousin up into her arms and headed for town.

Malynn instructed two of the knights to get Marisa back to town immediately, as she was near death as well. They must have laid here for hours. She checked Sir Meran and Reetha. She knew it was to late. She prayed to Leesha to accept their souls and asked the other knight to assist her in bearing the bodies into the house and out of the elements. She saved her grief for later and hurried back to the temple.

In the weeks that followed, the wounded were tended to, the dead buried. Soon enough, it was time to rebuild, and to mend the hearts and souls of the townspeople. Malynn and Lerisa, two young clerics of Leesha, took over that task. They willingly labored alongside their neighbors to rebuild what Loerth's men had destroyed. Soon their sister's joined them, and clerics painting walls and carrying away rubbish became a welcome and familiar sight to the people. As a result, morale improved.

Unfortunately, one final disappointment awaited Marisa.

"What do you mean, I cannot take Father's place with the knights? I know you need everyone you can get. Besides, I have been besting your men in sparring competitions since I was old enough to lift a sword? What does my being a woman have to do with how well I can lift a sword?" Marisa stood over Sir Wilhelm's desk, her red hair glowing like fire in the sunlight from the window.

"I am sorry, child. The Code is very strict about this. This is an organization for men who wish to fight for Leesha's glory. She only allows women to quest for Paladinhood, you know that. Why do you not pray for a holy mission instead?" Wilhelm replied quietly.

"You're the general, can't you make an exception? The Alave family has been represented in your ranks for generations. Just because my brother is a woodcutter does not mean our legacy should die with Father," she cast her eyes downward to hide the tears in her eyes. They would do her no good now.

"Perhaps at another time. These men need the Code right now. They have lost parents, children, entire families. They need something to hold onto amidst all this chaos. Perhaps at another time. Please carry my condolences to your family. You parent's were good people. They deserved better. I will, at my own expense, have your father's armor mended and altered. You may wear it. That is all I can offer you right now. I am sorry. Now, I have much work to do," with that he dismissed her.

As Marisa stormed from the barracks, Wilhelm wondered if he wold live to regret that decision. Somehow, he already did. He stood and turned to the window. Watching the rebuilding gave him hope for the town's future. No matter what was in store for them, they were still free.