time that day thought about his brother. A pain welled up inside of him. If he had thought about Ackerley just once that morning, he would have quit and ran straight for Chellion Castle.
Sidestep tried to head back to where the fighting was but Kenton pulled the reigns the other way. He let himself dream about living in a little house near the shore of Vloraisha. He imagined Ackerley living nearby with a wife and a family. Blood trickled down his sleeve and onto his hand. He absentmindedly wiped his hand on his pants and slowly nudged Sidestep away from the fighting and into the miles of nothing that was once Chell.
And then he caught sight of something. Three horses came into view, each trotting slowly towards him. Two had large Welgo sized warriors. The third, and center horse, had a much smaller man on its back. Kenton recognized Victor immediately. He looked back at the gates to see the Welgos disappearing inside.
Victor’s sneer suddenly loomed large in Kenton’s mind. He returned to those minutes shortly before being allowed to leave that Welgo town.
“Why are you invading?” Kenton had asked, beaten and bruised on the floor. “What do you get from all this?”
Victor had looked sadly at the wall of that small house. “We’re a warrior race that has been pushed around by you Chell’s for too long. When we saw how weak your current king is and figured out that he is just a figure head we had to act. This kingdom is very sparsely populated and the only people the king cares about are the nobles holed up in that lavish paradise. So we figured, why not destroy the countryside and see what happens? Not much. Sure he sent an army, but the real prize for us is the only place he really feels needs protecting. That's what we really want. But now we’ve gone too far. We want the whole thing. We don’t really want to kill Chells, adjutant, we want them to be Welgos.”
“Then just kill the king and this will all be over.” Kenton had said.
Victor knelt down to look Kenton in the eye. He placed Kenton’s sword in front of him. “I realize that.”
Screaming reached Kenton’s ears and he shook himself back to the present. Large clouds of black smoke rose high into the air from behind the walls. He glanced one last time at the approaching horses. Though they were far away, Kenton could have sworn he saw Victor nod in his direction. The commander looked away. He pulled a rag from a small bag attached to the saddle, cleaned off his sword, and returned it to its sheath.
Sidestep neighed concernedly. He needed to know which way to go now.
Kenton knew he should go back and help fight. He had survived a full on attack. It must be a sign to continue on. He jerked his hands as if to pull Sidestep in that direction, but then stopped.
A good brother would go straight to Chellion Castle and warn them of the impending—he looked back at the smoke—the current disaster. But if the walls of the manor region were no hope, how would the walls of Chellion keep them out? A good soldier would go to Chellion Castle and help them prepare.
But a good Chell would go back and fight. And he was a good Chell . . . wasn’t he?
Victor was so close; his voice could be heard.
The thought of that man made Kenton want to vomit. Or perhaps it was the stream of blood running down his arm that did it.
Kenton pulled the reigns and Sidestep started toward the walls.
It was a massacre. Welgos had already set fire to many of the manors. Flames reached out of windows as the screaming was now hopeless and guttural. Whole families ran through the streets toward the gates. Invaders on horseback raced through the streets cutting them down as if playing a gruesome sport.
A family of five saw Kenton and started towards him. Their faces etched with utter terror. Each parent held a little one while an older boy, maybe twelve, ran between them. A Welgo caught sight of them, raised his sword, and with an alarming cry went straight at them.
Kenton quickly pulled his own sword. Sidestep, not needing prodding, took off down the street. The family dropped to the ground as the two fighters exchanged sword blows above them. Sidestep launched his hind legs off the ground giving Kenton the angle he needed. With a punishing blow he propelled the blade down into Welgo’s skull. He dropped from his horse, which then clambered away.
The family looked too terrified to move.
“Get out of here!” Kenton shouted. “Go get that horse and go!”
The king prodded his horse over and over again as it ran through the din in the streets and away from the fighting. The helpless calls for help didn’t distract him. There was nothing he could do now. The horrid invaders were busy setting fire to anything and everything, and the once proud army of Chell scattered in seconds to try and protect their homes or families.
The king’s great castle loomed ahead but Chellias turned off the road down an alley between two walled manors. He knew where to hide until everything was over, if it ever was over. For the first time in his life he realized that he didn’t want to be king. But there wasn’t much he could do about it anymore.
20.
It had been a very busy day. Ackerley woke at dawn with news that the first wave of families had arrived from the nearby town. He dressed quickly in his fancy tunic and headed down to greet them. He showed them inside and told them all how to get to the that room in the basement that had once been where the nobles went to unwind. Cerise waited for them at the stairs to make sure they were going the right way, and Jarn met them down below where little sections of the floor had been made into modest living areas. Around a hundred mats and blanket sets littered the floor.
Every time Ackerley thought it was over, more people came through the gates. The groups didn’t stop until late afternoon. And even then he was told that more were coming. It wasn’t just the one town either. When Yinnib’s letter reached them, the other towns that hadn’t gone up yet were notified. Far more people were coming than had been accounted for. It wasn’t long before Yinnib came to the gates with a worried expression.
“We may need more room.” He said, catching his breath. “We’re almost out of mats.”
“What about on the second floor?” Ackerley suggested, staring out into the nothingness beyond the gates. It was the closest he had come to leaving the castle grounds since arriving.
“There are a few empty rooms.” Yinnib considered. “But I don't want anyone downstairs wondering why they didn’t get a room.”
“Take the biggest families and put them in their own rooms.” Ackerley said. “Or the families with the youngest kids.”
Yinnib gasped with amazement. “That’s why I came to you.” He said proudly, and then jogged back to the castle.
Ackerley stepped beyond the gates and took a deep breath. He squinted in the distance, trying to find anyone coming that way. No one could be seen.
It felt nice standing just out of reach of safety. Deep down he could feel the slightest hint of danger. He had lived his whole life in a small town with no walls or defenses, but this was the first time he ever felt exposed. For a brief minute it felt good, daring even. But then the obvious truth of Welgos nearby brought him somberly back. He worried about his brother. He hadn’t heard from him in a while. The Welgos being so close probably meant his brother was close. Maybe even close enough to stop by and say hello.
Just then a few people came around the edge of the castle. Ackerley jumped back behind the wall and peeked out. It was just a few more Chells. He welcomed them to Chellion Castle and told them how to find Cerise, who would then lead them to their new home. They thanked him and went on their way.
Night fell and Ackerley’s fear grew. There hadn’t been a group for almost a half hour and he figured it was about time to close the gates. Cerise came by with dinner, and they stood just outside the gates and ate, keeping their eyes peeled to the darkness.
“It’s a bit spooky with the gates open.” Said Cerise, shivering.
“Yeah, I think we should probably close the
m for now and wait to see if anyone knocks.” He glanced up at the large wooden gates. “I think we could hear knocking.”
“I keep thinking,” Cerise said quietly, “about what’ll happen when the Welgos come. Just in general. I mean, surely we can’t live here forever. The war won’t last forever. What happens when it’s all over?” She put her empty plate down and crossed her arms.
Ackerley bit his lip and stared into the night. “Well, assuming we win—”
“No—” Cerise breathed. “I don’t want to. I’ve already ruled that out.”
Very suddenly Ackerley felt an acute fear unlike anything he had ever felt. He was no stranger to fear, even intense fear that took all hope from him for long periods of time, but this was different. This was an all consuming fear that didn’t have a discernable end.
When his parents died he knew the worst was over and that he would eventually get over it. When attacked by a Welgo everything had happened too quickly for the fear to set in too deep. But now, after hearing the words he had been too scared to truly think, he felt fear that had no end, at least not an ending where he wasn’t lying dead from a sword wound.
“In that case . . .” His voice shook. He tried to steady himself. “In that case we should run, shouldn’t we?” He looked at Cerise.
To his surprise she was smiling. “That’s what I was