your world, I want to know all about you and your people. It looks like neither of us are going to get much sleep tonight.” he said, as he stirred the embers of the fire one more time.
Ben and Knesh continued to talk whilst the army slept, they chatted happily for hours until Ben finally drifted off to sleep. Then, the giant warrior lifted him up carefully and laid the young boy gently down at the foot of a huge tree, he placed a blanket over him and tucked the cloth bag, with the box inside it, under his arm.
“Goodnight, little one.” Knesh whispered, as he crept away.
Chapter 19
Early hours of 15th August – Northern Army Camp - Rhuaddan
Vantrax and Sawdon rode purposefully into the Northern Army camp on fresh horses, tall, sturdy, muscular beasts from the plains of Nadjan which snarled and snorted viciously at everyone around them and had an evil-smelling, white saliva frothing from their mouths at all times. They were followed by the entire contingent of the Personal Guard, the supposed elite of Vantrax’ fighting forces, comprised of soldiers selected from amongst all of the races and species within the Northern and Southern armies. Each and every warrior was recruited personally by Sawdon himself, for their deeds on the battlefield in previous campaigns, and the personal bravery they’d demonstrated. They were all immensely proud to have been selected for ‘The Guard’. It was considered to be a tremendous honour and they all possessed an air of arrogance, borne of the knowledge and belief that they were ‘elite’. They took great personal pride in their appearance and their reputation in Rhuaddan was second to none. They were feared throughout the country and beyond for their fighting prowess and their unswerving loyalty to King Vantrax which, over recent years, had seen them perform many of the evil deeds he had instigated. They were dressed uniformly in lightweight Jintan chainmail undersuits, beneath black tunics and leggings. They wore black canvass boots with a tough leathery soul, bound at the top by a black cloth which was wound tightly around their calves. The chests of their tunics were all embroidered with a gold castle emblem which contrasted magnificently with its black surround. It was also painted onto the shields that they hung from their horse’s saddle whenever they were not in use. The black cloak that was draped around their shoulders and hung low down their backs completed the impressive ensemble. They carried longswords and wore daggers in their belts. All were excellent swordsmen and spent the majority of their time training or guarding Heron Getracht Fortress, and King Vantrax, from any would-be attackers.
The camp was in complete mayhem. The runner from Heron Getracht had reached Strymos with Vantrax’ orders to prepare for a rapid night march to Erriard forest. Commanders were now running around trying desperately to round up their men, most of whom were not where they should have been having been caught completely off guard by the rapid and unexpected orders to move. Many had taken the opportunity to sneak off into local villages to say goodbye to loved ones and friends, or to have a farewell drink in the local ale houses. Strymos was in his command post issuing orders to a Thargw captain when Vantrax and Sawdon entered his tent without warning. He hadn’t heard the commotion caused by their arrival and he blushed with surprise and embarrassment.
“King Vantrax. So soon?” he exclaimed, alarmed that his master should find his camp in such a frenzy and realising how it would look to them both. “Sra… Th-thank you captain, that will be all for now, you may go.” he stated, to the Thargw beside him. The warrior nodded and grunted an acknowledgment of sorts before leaving. “My King, may I offer you…”
Strymos’ attempts at pleasantries were interrupted immediately by his King. “No, you may not! Give me your report!” ordered Vantrax impatiently. “How many soldiers do we have ready to march? And you may now include one hundred of my Personal Guard in your numbers to fight.” he added.
“Well, I… I cannot say with all certainty, sire. Your orders, they caught us by surprise, we were not expecting to have to move so quickly. Some of the soldiers are not in camp. Some of them were… Were fetching supplies.” Strymos answered nervously.
“Raarghhh! You pathetic excuse for a Gerada!” snarled Sawdon, between clenched teeth. “What kind of a leader has no idea of the numbers of soldiers