Chapter 78

78 Chapter 7The new lord of House Horriss was more into ambitions and vengeance unlike his father. At sixteen years old Deagol was bound to listen to his advisors and lords but he chose against it, he didn’t even listen to his mother who was against him going back to Stonedance. She reminded him “That’s where your father died. Let it go Deagol” but a vengeance boy he was and determined to avenge his father.

Deagol Aethelind took with him five thousand strong men of his house carrying his own sigil, yellow balls and fire to indicate the golds and wealth House Horriss possessed. The whole army was on horses and by nightfall they were in Stonedance, he found Prince Ambrose reading himself for battle. It had been three days since General Haul took to the green mountains and there hasn’t been any news since then.

Prince Ambrose was well aware of the distance and the stiffness of the mountains hence he still had hope. King Castellan was yet to attack, and nor was he in a rush to do so until they hear from the ravens who will be sent by General Haul.

Apart from that, Prince Ambrose also had no clue as to what happened in the Battle of the Port. The surviving soldiers fled the port and returned to their families and if Deagol had encountered them, then perhaps he would have been well informed.

“Where is the king?” asked Deagol when he joined Prince Ambrose in the camp. Forty-three thousand men were preparing to go to their death sentences, and they knew of it and anyone could tell from the look on their faces. They were exhausted, starved and completely lost all hope.

Prince Ambrose was stunned seeing Deagol back in the battlefield “My lord, I thought you’ll be grieving your father’s demise as we speak”

“Grieving is for women, I’m a man” said Deagol confidently.

Prince Ambrose excused his men inside the tent and attempted to speak to only Deagol. This was the same tent they had spent close to a moon making plans and executing them, now it belonged to Prince Ambrose since King Vaith was dead and it was up to him to face his brother.

Later on some of the people called the war “Battle of Kins” and that’s because of these two brothers who shared the same blood but fought against each other. One with one hundred thousand men, and the other forty-three thousand men with the addition of the five thousand men brought by Deagol to the camp.

.....

“The plan has been executed, and the king is safe at the port. General Haul is making his way towards the King’s City as we speak... and I am to face my brother in an open battle if it comes to that. Let’s hope the General arrives in time and send ravens as he promised, in that case we will have to march to the Green Mountains instead of fighting an open battle” Prince Ambrose filled Deagol with the plans.

“We can never win against two hundred thousand men”

“No we can’t, that’s why we have to wait”

Prince Ambrose was right and Deagol knew better to wait than attack like a mad man, the same tactic of attacking like a mad man is what killed his father. Lord Aethelind called Gandalf’s lions cats even after witnessing how they can devour a man to pieces. He gathered his men and went after the lions with their swords and arrows, still it wasn’t enough and even though they murdered five of them – it took the lord’s life as well.

However, things took a turn when an envoy came to warn them. “The Prophisian are marching towards our camp. They are close, it’s an ambush” and that’s when Prince Ambrose and Deagol panicked.

It was the hour of the wolf, wars are never fought during this hour and indeed this was an ambush led by King Castellan who knew all the plans of his brother and his associates. Thanks to Tommy, Castellan knew his brother will be all alone with his forty-three thousand men and with his one hundred thousand, he knew he could end the war.

There was no need to send envoys or alerting them, a good way to win the war is by ambushing your opponent and making sure they don’t see you coming. The torches were lit in the camp and Ambrose walked through the camp shouting “Get up! There is an ambush coming, grab your sword and armor. Get up” he circled the camp on his horse.

Deagol helped and he was on his horse too urging the men to wake up and get ready to fight. Gandalf’s twenty thousand men stayed at the back, in fact because it was late at night King Castellan wasn’t aware that he left the men almost five leagues behind. These were strict orders from Lord Gandalf and Tommy made sure to execute them.

After seeing Castellan’s men were far away, Tommy ordered his men to turn the torches off. “We are going back to the King’s City to aid our Lord. The stars shall guide us, we don’t need fire” he said to his men and they roared in agreement. So, in the Battle of Kins this was the first betrayal to happen when twenty thousand men turned back while Castellan had no idea what was going on.

Hence eighty thousand men led by King Castellan brought carnage to Prince Ambrose’s camp and they burned the tents, their food and men included. This was more of a slaughter than a battle, even men from the same army would slaughter themselves unaware and that’s because of the darkness. Prince Ambrose led the fight and he did kill a number of his brother’s men and every time he would scream to his men “Fall back, fall back and regroup” while they fled the camp trying to gather their strength.

However, Castellan attacked on full force and didn’t give his brother even a single minute to regroup, he intended on completely demolishing him. At the other side of the battle, these two kins came face to face underneath the open sky of Stonedance.

Both on horses and both worn out, Castellan was holding a torch breathing heavily and looking on his brother while the fight was intense.

“I warned you about this. I told you to lay down your weapon” Castellan screamed at his younger brother.

“I refuse to obey you, you are not my King” replied Ambrose holding his sword and also hanging tight to his horse. “You sent our sister away”

“I chose for her the perfect match”

“No, you didn’t want her at the capital. You don’t want any of us, your own blood and you’d rather keep Lord Aubrel but not me... your own brother” This time tears fell down between Prince Ambrose’s cheeks.

Their words fell short to the noise and the killing and screaming around them, none of their men focused on them as they had other matters at hand. Castellan saw through his brother the hurt and agony he’s not seen before. “That Squire boy will betray you and take your crown, you have completely ruined our father’s legacy and our house” added Prince Ambrose.

“Run Ambrose, before I take your head and plant it on my gates”

It seemed Castellan didn’t have to say anymore words, Prince Ambrose hushed his horse and disappeared into the flames and dead bodies never to be seen again. Poor Deagol remained in the fight unaware that Prince Ambrose had forsaken him. By dawn Deagol Aethelind was dead, and just like what Aurora dreamt he was surrounded by corpses and vultures were feeding on him.

Castellan lost twenty thousand of his men during the Battle of Kins, he remained with sixty thousand and when he checked them, none of them were from Old City. What his brother warned him about seemed to be happening. Gandalf betrayed him, and now he was inside his city where his wife and sons were, so was his little brother Frost.

The men he sent to go look at the port for Lord Aubrel came back with not so good news, all five thousand men died including the lord himself. They found Lord Aubrel’s body without a head, and this day Castellan wept so much for his good brother and friend. He had him buried in the desert and prayed for him according to Prophisian traditions.

Then Castellan took his men, all sixty thousands of them on horses and marched towards his kingdom. This time he was well aware of Gandalf’s betrayal but he had to save his family, what kind of a man would he be if he leaves his sons and wife to be slaughtered. Gandalf was crazy, everyone knew that and not to say he had lions.

The lions were inside his city now and not to mention Gandalf also had one hundred and twenty thousand men, a double of what he had during that time. What a game Gandalf played and he did sure win, Castellan was heartbroken and hopeless making his way towards his city knowing he was just going there to die.