Ch 18: Liberation

Hale & Tai unintentionally flush out an ambush!

Hale and Tai rode along the winding trail, coming to a bend 

in the road with thickening overgrowth. A copse of piney trees 

opened up along the curve, with thorny brambles on both sides, 

browned and stiffened with the season.

The perfect place for an ambush.

As they approached the bend, Hale noticed the head of a 

horse jutting out from behind a tree trunk, absently chewing on 

grass. Hale called a halt to the procession, and then hollered, 

“Ho there!” He trotted closer and introduced himself in knightly 

fashion, when he noticed a prone body laying beside the horse. 

Halting his unicorn, Hale's quick eyes scanned the scene, but 

nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. 

“We are armed, and capable of defending ourselves, 

highwaymen, if ambush is your game!”

No response came.

He dismounted and drew his sword, then turned his 

attention to the body, which stirred slightly at his words. “Are 

you harmed, fellow, can you answer?”

Only a painful moan muffled by the dirt came in reply. 

Hale couldn't ignore his knightly duties, especially with a squire 

watching his every movement like a youth does in admiration. 

With a motion of Hale's arm, Tai drew his bow and notched it 

with the speed of an archer, impressing the knight, who heard 

but couldn't see, since he kept his eyes alertly on the thicket. 

With his backup in place, the knight stepped cautiously toward 

the body, glancing around the trunk as he approached, and to 

the opposing brambles. When nothing leapt from the late 

afternoon shadows, and only a disinterested glance from the 

horse met him, he kneeled beside the body to inspect it. The 

fair-skinned, light-haired man had a weak pulse and breathed 

shallowly, with a rasp that warned of a perforated lung. He wore 

a soft leather gambeson over plain woodsman's garb atypical for 

the season, but there was no sign of a struggle. His ordinary 

horse wasn't burdened with much tack, and he wasn't properly 

dressed for extended periods spent in the wilds. He was near 

death from a narrow wound, which bled little externally, less 

from the tip of a sword than the head of an arrow. So, it seemed 

there was a skirmish and he escaped, became unconscious, and 

fell here, where he remained. 

Hale sheathed his sword and figured it best to move him. 

Since squire Tai practiced, he could possibly heal him enough to 

keep him from death, so they could transport him to the nearest 

township. Tai mended the wound as best he could, but the man, 

clearly a local, was pale blue in complexion from his now 

apparent internal bleeding. They created a makeshift litter and 

strapped him in firmly, then tied it to the horse, who seemed to 

be a fit mare, excited about moving along. Hale patted her neck 

as he tied her reigns to Tai's saddle, then promptly mounted, 

leading them on a slow pace, both for the sake of the litter's 

jostling occupant, and the possibility of becoming the next 

victims of whatever entity had injured him.

It was a quiet, typical frontier town, with a main street 

now muddied with the season, and raised wooden sidewalks 

running along its storefront businesses, tavern and saloon; with a 

house of Light wedged in for good measure. Hale had a special 

enmity for places like this, where the rule of law lost its sway 

over the people. He and his men had fought a pitched battle in 

the outskirts of this very town, against a gang of outlaws with a 

rouge Magi in their lead. He'd lost good knights over those 

terrible hours.. 

He suddenly realized it was too quiet, that the windows 

were darkened, the shops closed. The occasional set of eyes 

peered out surreptitiously from curtained windows, following 

their progress down the road. Hale's stomach sank to the pits 

when he realized their situation, but he quickly steeled himself 

and assessed his options. There was the firebreak between two 

nearby buildings, which they could use for cover, but was a 

possible trap in the making. No, they would have to find shelter 

and make a stand, since surrender or retreat were ignoble acts 

and unworthy of a knight. He would have to free this township 

from these brigands or die trying. Yet, he didn't look forward to 

explaining to Tai's father in the hereafter how he'd gotten the 

boy killed before he could even graduate as squire! No, death 

was not an option, noble as it would be.

With a quick, baleful look and gesture from Hale, Tai's eyes 

grew wide, and his pulse began to race. Adrenaline took over, 

making his hands shake as he withdrew his quiver of arrows and 

pouches of necessities, which he slung over his shoulder and 

clasped around his waist respectively. He took his bedroll from 

his steed's rump, which was wrapped in the overcloak that he'd 

taken off within the warmer valley climes. Slinging it over one 

shoulder, opposite his bow, Tai waited for Hale and cast a wary 

eye up and down the road. It was totally empty of traffic, as 

were the walkways and the stores. That was when he noticed 

eyes leering down at him from the second storey of the inn, 

nearly a block up the road. Then, they disappeared behind a 

fluttering curtain as soon as he'd caught sight of them. 

“Sire,” Tai swallowed his growing fear, “I believe we've 

been espied.”

Hale followed the boy’s gaze to the far window on the 

second floor of the inn, “I've seen people watching us, but they 

were fearful glances and apprehensive peeks. What makes you 

believe we've been espied?”

“That's just it, sire, there was no fear in these eyes!”

Hale untied the horse's reigns and draped them to the post 

rail running along the platform sidewalk. He removed the litter 

and with the merest thought, the unicorns turned and bolted 

down the road from whence they came. Untying the wounded 

man, Hale and Tai quickly carried him from both ends up the 

stairway in front of the nearby saloon, and through its swinging 

doors. To their surprise, it wasn't unoccupied, with an aproned 

bartender and a smattering of dismal-looking locals, equally 

shocked to see them as well.

With a mere glance by the tender, Hale could tell the 

injured man was familiar to him. He led Tai to a dingy divan and 

deposited the body, then marched to the counter, “Who is this 

man, and by the Light what is going on here?”

His demands rang louder than he'd expected in the mostly 

empty confines, and all eyes were on him in shock. The tender 

was reticent, so Hale continued at a lower volume, “I am 

Captain of the Guard Hale Neives, and I demand answers!” 

“He's Henne,” the tender stuttered, “we sent him to 

fetch help! Thank God you have come! Are your Templar knights 

outside?” 

“No, we came alone. We chanced upon your man, injured, 

in the woods just north of here.”

The hope lighting the tender's face faded sullenly at this 

news. 

“Why is it you seek help?” 

“'A rogue Magi with a troop of Galadoran mercs rolled into 

town just over a week ago, intimidating the townsfolk, keeping 

us captives…” he lost his voice then. “They slew the lawmen, 

Captain! My son, he was a deputy, fresh outta Cadet school!” 

“B******s!” Hale spat.

“They threatened to kill us all if we tried to get help,” a 

patron proclaimed, “but young, brash Henne, he wouldn't listen 

to reason-” 

“Do you possess fighting men, weapons to arm them?” Hale 

interrupted.

Tai began to sweat profusely now, second thoughts 

resounding loudly within his mind. 

“Yes, but they disarmed the townsfolk!” 

“Of everything?”

“I have a cache of a few blades and bows and such, 

hidden under the bar.”

“Get them, now!”

The tender did as commanded, and Hale turned to the 

patrons, watching him with baleful eyes. “So, how about it? You 

want these b******s out of your town? And make 'em pay for 

what they did?”

Their nods of approval turned to enthusiastic shouts at the 

determination of his words, and rushed to the counter as the 

tender set out his first cache of weapons.

That was when they heard it, stopping everyone in their 

tracks like startled prey. The piercing shriek hadn't ceased 

before Hale rushed to the window and peered out over the half-

curtains, and Tai couldn't help his envy as he stood frozen in 

fear. Hale was glad he'd brought his trusted falcon, Merak. It 

was his piercing cry that warned of the Galadorans moving in on 

the saloon.

“It's time to test our mettle!' Hale barked, then rushed to 

the counter. “Are any of you men practicing bows man? Damn!” 

He promptly turned to Tai, and the boy blanched at Hale's 

determining glare. “It's up to you, my boy,” he jerked his thumb 

to the entryway.

It took Taime's panicked mind a moment to reckon his 

orders, when he quickly dropped his bed roll, fumbled for his 

bow, loosened his quiver and notched an arrow. He focused on 

the slats of the louvered doors from his shadowy nook, and more 

than once he had to keep his hands from trembling with 

anticipation. With a bang that startled him, the doors suddenly 

slammed open, admitting bright white light that was instantly 

obscured with shifting silhouettes... of armed men!

“Now!” Hale barked, and the boy let loose from the 

shadows.

It felt to Tai as if he were back in class at target practice, 

and he wished to best his rival, Coltan. His hands were swift and 

his shots were true, with the glinting metal of Hale's throwing 

stars piercing the darkness with deadly precision. That was when 

the screams began, horrible and lingering, as the silhouettes 

receded back into the light outside. The doors swung closed and 

it was over as soon as it began, with the contrasting darkness 

returning as the squeaking hinges ceased, letting silence settle 

on the air. Only Tai's shallow breath and pounding heart 

throbbed in his ears. He had wounded, perhaps killed, his first 

man...

Hale squared himself and unsheathed his sword, expecting 

another wave at any moment, but only the sound of fading cries 

could be heard. 

“They're retreating!” One of the patrons exclaimed 

hopefully.

“Typical Galadorans!” Another patron quipped and they 

slapped hands. 

Hale suddenly threw up his hand and the cheer left the 

room like an unseen blow to the gut. It was too quiet... a certain 

kind of silence that oppressed with a heavy air. 

“Didn't you say they had a Magi with them?”

“Yes,” the tender replied, “a dark Magi who dares wear 

the black robes of evil in the open-” the tender swallowed his 

words at a glare from Hale.

With a swift dread, Hale realized that energy was being 

drawn from the very air, for spellcasting! 

“Get down!” he shouted, then hurled himself beneath the 

nearest table, just as a raptor's cry pierced the air; Merak was 

warning of magic with his innate animal senses. Suddenly, the 

windows exploded inward with flame that billowed throughout 

the room, consuming the oxygen and stifling the screams with 

burning heat.

Tai hid his face against his bedroll from the fiery debris, 

thankful that the sound of the explosion muffled his boyish 

shriek. He'd often fantasized about situations like this on 

sleepless nights, and now he was living it, but he found himself 

longing for the comforts of home. Not exactly the noble deeds 

he'd envisioned; a fine knight he would make. “Careful what 

you wish for,” his mother always said. He realized now that it 

wasn't a playful taunt, but a stark warning, since she was fully 

aware of what his father did, which he was so eager to emulate.

The flames abated with the explosion, but was punctuated 

by the shouts from those behind the bar. There was a lot of glass 

back there, Hale realized, and leapt up to investigate. A quick 

glace to squire Taime eased his fears, as it seemed the boy was 

alright, but the cut and bloodied men rising from behind the bar 

were another story.

“You men alright? Can you continue?”

Each gave a nod in turn.

“Good, because I expect another raid at any moment!”

Once it didn't materialize, the wounded men began to 

tentatively tend to his wounds, when a thought occurred to 

Hale. He spun on his heels to face the tender, “Do you have a 

back door!?!”

The stunned look on the tender's face was all Hale needed 

to know, and he scrambled towards Tai and the entryway, 

thinking of the hall he'd seen when they had first rushed into 

the saloon. That was when he'd heard the sound of armor in 

motion, and he knew it was too late, that he may have caused 

his squire's death, and, vicariously, the citizenry in the saloon, 

due to his brazen scheme... 

“Tai, get back!”

He motioned with his free hand as he unsheathed his 

blade, meeting the first two Galadorans that rounded the 

corner, sword swinging. He nearly cut the first in half, his light 

leather armor and fleshy abdomen were like so much lard with 

the power of Hale's stroke. He ran through the other while the 

man stared wide-eyed at the mess Hale had made of his friend. 

Then, he turned his attention to the next three soldiers that 

appeared an instant after their comrades were felled.

Tai turned at the sound of combat, and gawked as Hale 

fought like the Great Paladin himself, buying time to escape. 

Yet, it was only a short respite, scarcely giving Tai the chance to 

gather his wits and get his bearings, notch his bow, and fell one 

of the soldiers attacking Hale.

They were suddenly swarmed by Galadorans from both 

sides of the bar, forcing them to fight on two fronts, with 

Captain Hale the only trained fighter among them. The other's 

were quickly under siege by their aggressors, and one patron fell 

in a bloodied heap, his agonizing screams shaking Tai. His best 

shots were bouncing off the small shields these soldiers carried, 

and he broke into a cold sweat when one of them turned on 

him. Tai abandoned his bow for his father's weighty b*****d 

sword, which he barely withdrew before he had to defend 

himself. He struggled to fend off the vicious attack, with every 

blow he parried forcing him rearwards, until he found himself 

backed into a corner. Everything was happening so quickly, each 

blow was like a blacksmiths' strike upon the metal of his blade. 

His muscled ached and he gasped for breath, as though he had 

just trained for long hours, when his attacker suddenly 

stiffened, his eyes wide and teeth gritted. A hiss of air escaped 

as he tried to cry out, and Tai just stood there with a 

dumbfounded stare, thankful for the reprieve, when he noticed 

one of Hale's throwing stars protruding from his attacker's 

bloodied side. He collapsed in a writhing heap, and Tai numbly 

took in the grisly scene just as Hale entered the fray with the 

remaining Galadorans.

The injured customer's cries had ceased, and he was surely 

dead, but Tai hadn't noticed over the rush of blood in his ears, 

with the barkeep and surviving patron bleeding from injuries 

and flailing in exhaustion.

Hale was their saving grace.

One mighty swing decapitated the first Galadoran before 

he knew what hit him, sending his severed head twirling 

through the air in a trail of blood, disappearing beneath the 

tables and chairs. Tai would have retched were he not 

paralyzed with fear, and the worst was yet to come. The last 

soldier watched his comrade fall, when he realized Hale had his 

blade trained on him, and he turned to flee, only to be cut 

down by a ghastly slash from the tender. His hoarse cries faded 

as Hale strode up to the prone from lying at Tai's feet, awash in 

a pool of his own blood. 

“Help m-me,” he gasped in shallow, ragged breaths at 

something unseen.

“Galadoran scum,” Hale whispered as he slit the man's 

throat to spare him a slow death. He looked to Tai, who was 

faint from the deathly sight, “Come now boy,” he said quietly, 

taking the blade from Tai's trembling arms and sheathing it for 

him.

Tai couldn't take his eyes from the man dying at his feet, 

watching the Life flow from him profusely now.

“Spare your sympathies for your own countrymen, Tai,” 

Hale impugned, “he would have seen you die at his feet!”

Tai knew it was true, but he was still troubled, seeing the 

man languishing even when he closed his eyes. Would that be 

the look on his face when he met his end?

“There is still much to be done,” Hale declared. “I'm going 

to need you when we encounter this Magi.”

Tai couldn't hide his apprehension and his head swam with 

the events as he numbly followed Hale, balking as he passed the 

slain patron.

“Are you men well?” Hale asked, and got firm nods in 

response. “Good, because we need you both to contend with 

any soldiers guarding the Magi, while Tai and I confront the 

b*****d.”

“What's the plan, then?” the tender asked breathily.

Hale crept to the window and chanced a peek, but saw 

only the muddy street glistening in the filtered sun. He knew 

the Magi could conceal himself from prying eyes, but did he 

have the power to hide any men guarding him? Hale thought 

not, or the Magi would have dispatched them all with magic by 

now. He knew it was a risky proposition, but their options were 

limited and each move was more fatal than the next.

“I know it doesn't sound like much of a plan, but, if we 

bum-rush them, I think we can distract the Magi and get in close 

enough to kill him. If Lady Luck smiles on our fortunes, then he'll 

be alone.”

Hale didn't voice the prayer which resounded in his mind, 

as they armed themselves in silence and assembled near the 

entrance. “I'll lead the way with my shield; Tai, I want you close 

behind me, with you men last. Spread out, and keep your wits 

about you.” He looked to the boy, “Are you readied?” Tai 

nodded firmly, his eyes focused with intent. The other two 

grunted in agreement. “Brace yourselves, men!”

Tai's heart swelled with pride as he followed his lord 

outside, into the blinding light of the unknown.

The stark-white contrast faded the instant they rushed 

headlong through the saloon doors and onto the clanking wooden 

walkway.

The dark-robed Magi appeared, standing alone, waiting in 

the muddied street. Hale recognized the tell-tale motions of 

spell casting, so he swiftly brought Tai with him to the ground to 

avoid a speeding fireball. They fell from the steps and landed on 

Hale's shield with a wet splash, and the boy went sprawling. But, 

the others weren't as quick to act as the entrance to the saloon 

exploded. The patron was consumed in hideous, fiery throes, 

and the keep, who partially dove out of harms way, rolled in the 

mud to extinguish the hungry flames.

Tai leapt to his feet some distance from Hale, and sent a 

jet of flames at the Magi, but he diverted them in the nick of 

time with a sideways blast of wind. The gust blew back residual 

flame, breaking Tai's concentration, forcing him back to the 

ground as yellow tongues licked at where his face had been.

Hale launched himself to his feet in the mean and charged 

the Magi, hiding behind his shield and the gleaming magical 

runes protecting him.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over the Magi's head, making him 

look up, when a brown blur of feathers smashed into him, raking 

at his face and neck with vicious talons, and gnashing his eyes 

with its hooked beak. The Magi collapsed screaming into a 

writhing heap, his hands on his face unable to keep the blood 

from pouring out onto the muddied ground. In a flash of white 

light, he disappeared, with only the blood spatter to show he'd 

been there at all.

Tai stared, transfixed by the falcon, which had perched on 

Hale's out stretched arm, its long, bloodied talons wrapped 

around his leather wristlet. It regarded the boy with cold, 

calculating curiosity in its bulging black eyes, in stark contrast to 

its majestic light brown feathers with black and white mottling.

“Good boy, Merak! You saved our skins!” Hale cooed, 

shocking Tai with his fawning.

The adrenaline quickly fading, Tai suddenly felt weak in 

the knees, then doubled over and vomited.

Merak flapped his wings at the commotion, nearly striking 

Hale in the face with the power to break his nose. He ducked 

nonchalantly and looked to Tai with concern, “You braved your 

first battle well. I've known more experienced squires than you 

lose their composure over far less.”

“It's not that, sire…” Tai heaved. “It's the magic,” he spat 

and wiped his chin, “using it weakened me.” He knew it a lie; 

he'd killed a man, fighting for his life in pitched battle, and his 

body shuddered anew at the thought.

Hale gave him a dubious look, before helping the boy to his 

feet, “There is still work to be done. Be proud, we just 

liberated this town.” He slapped Tai on the shoulder, “And 

we’re still alive.”

Author's Note

Thoughts and impressions welcome :P
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