Lands of Darkness

[Easthaven I]

lol. Hey man, these Immortals are out for vengeance. Especially overhearing this Russian about killing innocent women.

[Easthaven I]

Vengeance begins in the West

…continued

The Aleppo Massacre

March 6th 1468AD, somewhere near Aleppo

A small Russian company was marching down the trail, on their way to Aleppo. They just got back from supplying an outpost nearby. They didn’t know that once they left the outpost it was overrun by Emir’s Immortals…only two survived and were taken prisoner.

The small company numbered eighty-five men, all walking on foot and in a column with one carriage being pulled by two horses. As they emerged from the small forest they began marching into a depression in the land, flanked by the elevated ground some fifteen to twenty feet high. It ran like this for a mile until stopped by another small forest. It gave the impression of a scar upon the earth.

The Russian troops marched on without a care in the world. A few conversations sparked here and there but faded away. The commander riding on the carriage chewed on a straw as he stared beyond. The soldier next to him was guiding the horses with the reigns.

Then the lazy scene changed dramatically, as the first two men of the column fell as the ground beneath them opened up into a wide pit. Both killed instantly by the stakes set at the bottom. The column immediately halted, stunned by the change of events.

From each flank, seemingly out of thin air, appeared cloaked men standing tall upon the crests of each hill, armed with a bow. No more than fifteen on each side, did they number.

The straw dropped from the gaping mouth of the commander as he sat idly on the carriage. A sole arrow streaked the air to claim its first victim.

The commander looked down and saw an arrow protruding from the left side of his chest, before finally he collapsed…dead.

Soon after the first, several more arrows followed…as if like rainfall. The whistles filled the air, claiming victim after victim. Finally, after many had fallen, the men below reacted. They split in two and attempted to charge up the hills in an effort to kill their would-be attackers. All the way up, receiving the shower of arrows. They screamed their war cries, trying to scare the enemy. As the left group neared the bowmen standing tall above…another group of soldiers appeared over the crest, between each archer…swords in hand. This second group charged down, slicing the shocked Russians to pieces. They were as silent as the wind, in which fed the Russians’ fear. It was as if these cloaked figures were ghosts or warrior spirits of Persia, appearing to seek vengeance upon the Russians for their unjust cruelty.

They seemed like many but they numbered only a dozen.

The other side appeared to receive the same situation. The Russians stunned by the sudden attack of the unseen swordsmen, were getting massacred.

Soon the Russians retreated back down the hill. The cloaked swordsmen ran back behind the archers… and the archers resumed their volleys.

The Russian numbers dwindled quickly, the men tried to hide behind the horses or under the carriages, but it was futile. One even tried to get the carriage and ride off, but as soon as he approached the reigns he received an arrow to his chest for his pitiful attempt.

What amplified their fear were the screams from their comrades and the silence from their executioners.

Finally they all began screaming for mercy and fell to their knees in submission. One soldier ripped off a piece of cloth from the carriage and began waving it like his life depended on it. A few prayed, terror streaking their hearts as they heard the whistle of arrows flying all about.

Finally, the rain of arrows stopped. The thirty archers stood, arrows in place in each bow. One of the Immortals marched down the hill, sword drawn. He was followed by eleven others, and twelve more swordsmen began coming down from the other side.

The Russians, the lucky ones still breathing, were rewarded with mercy.

Twenty-seven Russian prisoners…twenty-seven Russian survivors.

To be continued…

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Magnificent!! Both parts!! slightly graphic in the bar scene but more than understandable in the context of the story, a very well written and exciting story.


Great work my shaven friend.

[vovan]

Keep 'em coming, East.

[TheGuitarist]

Excellent! I've been waiting for a satisfying battle like those two.

Jeez, I thought my story was graphic...

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Speaking of which Tom hows your story coming along ? any chance of seeing some more

[vovan]

Yes, we are all eager to see the final of the story, Guitarist. It's been a while since the last installment.

[Easthaven I]

Vengeance begins in the West

…continued

Fort Trilo
April 2nd 1468AD

For nearly a month, the Immortals waged war upon an unsuspecting enemy, whom still was not quite sure to what was occurring. Fornalin assumed his Immortals would be outnumbered, but in truth the enemy were the ones often found inferior in both numbers and skill, for they were scattered and arrogant. The Immortals would simply isolate the groups and annihilate them. Even in the cities the Russians were scattered about. Quickly and quietly the Immortals would ambush the Russians in alleyways or in the forests, usually under the cover of night. Soon West Persia was free of Russian control, only Fort Trilo remained.

1,200 Russian Soldiers garrisoned the Fort. They received messages of what was occurring throughout the land before Fornalin and the others could arrive. So the garrison waited, knowing that soon whatever rebels causing revolts in the west would soon turn their heads towards Fort Trilo. The Commander, Goris Kukov, also knew that the rebels couldn’t be larger than a few hundred men. He looked forward to their arrival, knowing his superior forces would annihilate the rebels in a simple frontal assault…no sneak attacks or stabbing from behind. And the King would credit and reward him for ending the revolt. He already dreamt it, both at night and during daylight.

Kukov stood on the wall of his fort, looking at the setting sun…picturing the rebels coming into view and gradually approach.

“Lord, when do you think they will arrive?” asked his subordinate.

“Soon. I would say a few days…and in a few days we will kill the enemy and after we’ll be invited to Moscow, to dine with the King.” He said arrogantly as he turned and smiled.

“Of course, my lord.” His subordinate smiled back.


==============================


Fornalin sat in a chair in front of his tent, beholding his army encampment. Just a day ago the forces united, Belisarius’ company was the first to arrive at the spot two days earlier than the others. They then set their camp four miles west of Fort Trilo, the garrison totally unaware of their arrival.

Fornalin was deeply joyed to hear there were no deaths among any Immortal, and only ten received minor wounds that could be healed within weeks. He gave much praise to Emir, Borio, and Belisarius. All was going as planned. His Immortals had food and supplies, and now just one more obstacle was in the way of Fornalin securing his base of operations.

So he sat and thought. Fort Trilo was built a few generations ago. A heavily defended position, it was. No one in history has ever been able to break into its barriers and subjugate the defenders. The Russians even tried and failed when they first invaded Persia. Finally they had to starve the defenders out far after the war was already lost.

Four hundred men against twelve hundred?, he thought, against such an impregnable fortress? Even if we were to succeed, in victory we would find defeat, for out of four hundred of the best warriors only few would survive. I would lose the only weapon that gives Persia the chance of victory.

He sat calmly trying to dissect this situation to the very last and smallest detail. Trying to remember the teachings of Zhuge Liang, trying to remember his past wars and his father’s past wars.

Attacking the fort will be too great a cost, victory unworthy to the debt I will pay. But it must be taken. He thought, ...how do I conquer an unconquerable fortress whose garrison outnumbers my army 3 to 1?

He squinted his eyes as he strained to think of the solution. He stared blankly at his encampment. Soldiers walked about, few groups formed. Local villagers walked about talking and offering aid to the men.

He looked about, looking for an advantage he could wield against his foe. To his left was a farm, full of harvest. Villagers worked diligently gathering the grain. To his right was a field, a few hills and trees scattered about. A few cows grazing, standing patiently eating grass…as if they lacked purpose.

Then an idea sprouted in his mind, and soon it took form.

“Cornelius,” He called. Cornelius sat obediently next to him, probably thinking of his wife.

“Yes, General.” He said as he removed himself from his daydream.

“Find out who owns those cows. And give the owner aid in gathering the largest herd you can muster.” He ordered, “I need a large herd of cows, Cornelius. Well over a thousand. And gather as many villagers as you can as well.”

“Sir? Fornalin, what…why do you…”

“Just do it Lord Cornelius…you’ll see.” Confidence flooded the eyes of Fornalin, and Cornelius no longer needed to know the answer.

“As you wish, General. I am guessing you’ve thought of a plan. Who am I to question the master of deception.” He stood, “A herd you shall have.” Cornelius then walked off to carry out one of the most unusual orders Fornalin ever gave him.


==============================


April 6th 1468AD

Kukov went to his bed after another day of waiting, darkness of night swept about his fort. No sign of rebels whatsoever, he began to even doubt if they still existed.

Then in the middle of the night, when it was most dark, he was awakened by his subordinates…the rebels had arrived.

---------------------

“How many are there?” He said as he marched up the steps towards the top of the wall.

“There are many, sir. Far more than we expected. Look for yourself.” His subordinate responded.

They emerged and came upon the wall of the fort. Kukov looked out into the darkness, the new moon hanging in shadow high above. He beheld a sight, not of a ‘few hundred’ rebels, but well over a thousand, possibly two thousand. All around the fort he beheld the light of hundreds upon hundreds of torches. There was one mass group to his front in constant movement.

“Heavens! How could such a force appear out of thin air! Why did you not see this coming!” He yelled at his subordinate.

“I don’t know. We haven’t heard from our scouts, I assume they’ve captured them.” He said pointing towards the lights.

“Look! Some are coming!” Yelled a Russian guard.

It was true. A small group emerged from the mass and slowly came. As they neared, he could see that there was but eleven mounted men…hardly an attack.

“They’ve come to talk.” The commander said. He turned and marched back down the steps…


==============================


Fornalin Varha galloped at a slow trot. He was accompanied by ten others, five on each flank. All eleven of them were clad in armor and cape…the suit of an Immortal. Such bright silver radiated their supremacy in the art of war. These men did not look exactly like the men who left Cornelius’ home, these men were soldiers of nobility in the highest order. Just the sight of these eleven would instill the feeling of inferiority.

Cornelius rode on his right, and Hasduman on his left. Belisarius was among his company as well.

“Attaching torches to the cows…”Cornelius said as he chuckled, “…and gathering unarmed villagers to hold up some torches as well…men, women and children…like a festival…”

The others laughed at the unusualness of it all, but still did not doubt that it could work.

“You’re laughing now, Cornelius, wait and see my plan achieve its purpose.” Fornalin said, “Do you doubt its success?”

“No no, my friend. Your plans, however strange they might be at times, seldom fail.” Responded Cornelius.

“Why did we have to suit up as if we’re about to fight the King’s personal guard themselves?” Belisarius asked.

“Because Belisarius, to give the impression that this army isn’t one of inexperienced farmers, but a professional army of warriors.” Hasduman the oldest responded to the youngest.

“Ahhh…how could I be so naïve.” Belisarius said.

“Your young. It’s the disease of the youth. Heh.” Joked Cornelius.

“Just because I’m the youngest, does not entail that I am young.” Belisarius responded with the same sense of humor, “Never would I have figured that even after long years I would still be called young Belisarius.”

The riders laughed with the scent of nostalgia.

“Shhh. It is time.” Fornalin commanded.

As they neared the fort, the doors opened and out came the commander with his armed escort. Fornalin halted and waited for the Russians to meet them. Finally, they halted but ten yards away.

“Who are you?” Kukov demanded.

“You are quite hasty, and rude. I am Fornalin, Captain of the Immortals. Do you forget the most fearsome fighters and artists of war? Did you think they perished along with the kingdom of Persia? For many Russians have thought so, and they are dead because of it.” Fornalin said with the utmost confidence. Now he displayed a man of authority and power, of nobility and might. As if by his word the world would crumble if he so ordered it.

“Ha. Am I to truly believe that? There is no more Immortals…”

“THERE IS! And if you are as stupid as your comrades, then you too shall die by the will of the Immortals. I have twenty-five hundred under my command now, and they seek vengeance. They thirst for the blood of the tyrants who massacred innocent Persians for far too long! I barely hold them back by a thread. If you do not surrender…they WILL take this fort, and torture every last man to death, so that you may pay for the deaths of so many with the pain of your lives. Russian rule is over! Surrender and we will ransom you all back to Russia, you will live your pathetic lives in your own rotten fields.” Fornalin stared at Kukov with an unrelenting look of rage. Kukov effortlessly tried to interrupt him during his small talk but his will shattered and too weak to overcome the booming voice of the Immortal.

“You will kill us all if we surrender. Either way we die, might as well die fighting than die on our knees.” Kukov responded, he gave effort to respond in the same booming voice of Fornalin but only sounded like a frightened drunkard.

“My men do not murder the unarmed. Immortals have honor, unlike you fools! They will rather receive the gold of ransom than the rotten unworthy Russian blood spilled on their armor. But if you stubbornly want to fight a battle you can not win, then you only feed their fury to an extent that not even I could contain. If you wish to see your hideous wives again, then the only way you will be found on this path is to lay down your arms and surrender.” Fornalin said in a calmer, gentler, and straight to the point manner. He understood the natures of man. Begin with showing them their hopeless doom, then, as though reluctant, let them know they have hope if they cooperate. Of course, such an approach would only work on a weak minded commander.

Kukov thought for a moment. He always remembered the legendary Immortals having a code of honor. And he did not want to die in a nameless battle nobody would ever even care to remember.

If there were truly 2,500 Immortals out there, how can my outnumbered troops fend them off? They are not half as trained as they, nor as disciplined. How could I have misjudged them? Mistaken them for rebel peasants?! These men look more powerful than the Russian Royal Guard themselves! Much less the Cossacks! Even their weapons look as though they surpass our own, He continued to think , …but this is Fort Trilo, one of the most well-defended fortresses in the world. Even Immortals couldn’t breach it’s walls…or could they?

He looked at Fornalin, the man was determined and unrelenting.

“I must have time to think over my position.” He finally told Fornalin, after such an unusual pause.

“You have less than one hour. After such time, whether you wish to surrender or not, my men will attack.” He then turned and he and his company galloped off.

-----------------

Within thirty minutes, the signal for surrender was sounded throughout the walls of Fort Trilo…

[TheGuitarist]

Excellent work! This is very cool.

Cows... hahaha!

"If you wish to see your hideous wives again, then the only way you will be found on this path is to lay down your arms and surrender.”

[ChrisiusMaximus]

Yes excellent stuff Easthaven

[vovan]

[TheDarkCavalier]

Wow..... great stuff ... and in your honor

[Easthaven I]

Cool. Thanks fellers. Your posts are the whip that keeps me writing. whoopish!

Guitarist, I knew somebody would notice that hideous wives thing, lol.

[ChrisiusMaximus]

So you like whips eh ?

[TheGuitarist]

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