Legends Lost Tesnayr
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Not far from the river another fight took place. Arnin had succeeded in gaining King Edrei’s support and brought them to where Tesnayr had instructed. An orc encampment rested there loaded with supplies for Galbrok’s army. Chaos reigned as the battle there continued.
“Arnin!”
Arnin clonked an orc in the head with the hilt of his sword before turning toward King Edrei. He looked where the king pointed. Odd, thought Arnin, Tesnayr was early. He whirled around as another orc attacked him. With ease, he disarmed the orc and rammed his blade into the creature.
“They are early, aren’t they?” asked King Edrei.
“They shouldn’t be here at all,” muttered Arnin, wondering why the plan changed.
The mass of riders plunged into the battle forging their way to the middle attacking as they went. Finally, Arnin noticed the crest of Sym’Dul. Curses flowed through his mind as he realized what had happened.
“It’s King Slyamal,” shouted one Hemilian soldier.
At first, King Slyamal’s arrival distracted the orcs. Soon, everything went horribly wrong. Old animosities surged within the men from Hemίl and Sym’Dul as they attacked each other.
A man wearing the crest of Sym’Dul hit Arnin from behind. Quickly, he turned around and threw the man off of him. “The orcs are the real enemy, you fool!”
The man from Sym’Dul ignored him. He charged Arnin. Darting out of the way, Arnin rammed his sword into the man’s side killing him. Two more men advanced. Arnin dodged. He jumped high slamming his foot into the back of one. Hurriedly, he turned to find King Edrei pulling his bloodied weapon from the second man.
“What is this madness?” demanded the king. “You told me that I could trust your captain. And now Slyamal’s soldiers attack us.”
“This is King Slyamal’s doing, not Tesnayr’s.”
“We trusted you.” King Edrei held the point of his blade at Arnin’s throat.
“I never lied to you.”
The battle raged around them as King Edrei pondered over what to do. “Then what are your orders?”
“Retreat.”
King Edrei pulled out his horn and blew on it. A harsh note escaped from it capturing the Hemilian soldiers’ attention. “Pull back!”
“Men of Tesnayr, follow me,” yelled Arnin over the chaos.
Instantly, soldiers departed the field in every direction. Those from Hemίl followed their king as others chased after Arnin heading for the Black Mountains leaving Sym’Dul alone to clean their own mess. As Arnin took one final glance at the field, the clashing of metal filled his ears and emptiness filled his heart. They had lost.