out over fifteen paces before it receded and disappeared. The men and boargs nearby fell to the ground to shield themselves from the blast. Those closest to the battle ended up as charred burning husks. The ground was scorched black around the two dead warriors, their bodies nothing more than burnt and blackened forms, unrecognizable from their previous selves.
There were fifteen men left, barely standing, holding onto their bloody weapons. The remaining fifty boargs advanced on the men, paying little attention to their dead leader, for food was standing right in front of them. The men could barely move, let alone stop the charge of the hungry beasts.
Three
Survival
Fil gripped his spear tightly as he hid under the bed in the baker’s house. He did not know that the Bantrha and the cavalier were dead, but he could still hear feeding boargs outside. He had never been more terrified. Fighting and witnessing the massacre was traumatic enough, but sitting and waiting for boargs to feed on his friends and family while he hid, not knowing if a hungry boarg would find him and eat him alive, was more frightening than he could possibly imagine. He wondered how many survivors there were and how many people were hiding like he was? He knew that the cripple was in the baker’s oven. Lorna, the boy’s dying mother, had told him so. He would honor her wish and do his best to get the boy and any other survivors to safety.
His mind was swarming with questions. Once the boargs left, would the survivors be safe from them? Would the boargs return to feed? Were they better off hiding out in the mountains? Was his family alive? The last he’d seen of his father, Jorm, was at the north gate, fighting as part of the reserve line. His sister, Lara, who was only six, was hiding out with the other children and elderly at the grange. He did not know the whereabouts of his brother, Colson, nor did he know what had happened to his mother, Mell, who he had last seen helping with weapons at the south wall.
His body and mind were exhausted, but he didn’t want to risk falling asleep in case a boarg arrived looking for more food. Despite his efforts, his eye lids became heavier and heavier as he struggled to stay awake, the stress of the night taking its toll on the young man. The grunting and growling of feeding boargs grew more distant in his mind as he got sleepier and sleepier. Fatigue finally won the battle. His eyes closed as he fell into a deep sleep, still clenching the blood covered spear in his hand.
***
Jonas did not know how long he had been asleep. He awoke in the dark confines of the oven, soot covering his cramped body and the smell of charcoal and baked bread overwhelming him. He listened intently for several moments, trying to hear sounds of fighting outside. He had no idea if it was morning or still night and he was very frightened. No one had come for him and his heart ached to see his mother, or Gorum, or someone to tell him that everything was going to be fine. What had happened outside? Not knowing and feeling helpless filled him with a deep despair. He had to move, to get out of the tight confines of his hiding place, to get some answers to what had happened.
Slowly he used his wooden crutch to push the wood away from the opening. The wood landed heavily on the floor and light reached into the oven as he knocked more logs out of the way. It must be morning thought Jonas, the room lighter than it had been. Slowly he inched his way forward, feet first, until he got to the lip of the oven. He was about two paces up from the ground and he knew he’d have a small fall since his legs probably couldn’t catch him. Pushing his body all the way out of the oven he landed heavily on his legs, stumbling to the ground.
“You okay?”
The voice came from in front of him as Jonas struggled to look up and grab his crutch at the same time. He stood up slowly, his cramped legs shaking and his back aching from the tight confines of the oven. Fil stood before him, a long bloody spear in his hand. The boy’s face and body were splattered with blood, and at his waist he