Tale of Four

"ENEMY RAID!" A cry echoed, shooting Oliver awake. Looking to his right, he saw Jeremy lazily rise. Bells echoed, and Oliver didn’t hesitate and jumped up.

"QUICKER!" Oliver screamed at Jeremy, finally making him awaken, and he grabbed his breastplate. Slipping it on, Jeremy skillfully went around and tightened the fastenings. Whilst Jeremy secured his armour, Oliver tightened the laces on his boots and grabbed a small herb from his pouch, placing it between his teeth and grinding it into paste. After a minute, he swallowed and picked up his sword. "Take a knife and stay here. The tent catches fire, run out and hide. Anyone who comes in, kill. Do not hesitate, Jeremy, or you will die."

With that, Oliver ran out and saw the fire in the distance around the camp, as shrill cries echoed from men on horseback. Running around, he saw the camp in panic as commanders quickly tried to rally their men, creating an incoherent sound of war cries and orders.

"OLIVER!" From the tent he left, Henry stepped out in his armour, "COME!" Oliver didn’t hesitate to follow Henry, knowing that the men of the Valleys would have different routines on how to deal with the enemy raids compared to his time in the flatlands. The ground shook from the stampeding horses that raced around, burning whatever they came near, killing anyone who got in their way.

Hearing something rapidly approaching from behind, he and Henry dove to the side as a horse rider flew past, belting a war cry. The rider swung but was a second too late as the blade of their sword scratched the back of Oliver’s armour. Oliver rose quickly and dropped his sword, grabbing a small wooden beam by his side instead. Seeing two more riders come for them, he and Henry barely looked at each other but understood the plan.

Rapidly, they approached, and before they arrived, Oliver swung the beam up, jumping backwards as he did. The war cry of one of the riders suddenly ended as the air left his lungs, his body flying backwards off the horse. The other rider swung, barely missing Oliver, continuing his ride, ignoring his companion. Henry moved and plunged the sword into the fallen rider’s chest, letting out a sharp exhale afterwards. Sharing a small nod, they continued running as they met up with a small pahlix surrounding a cart of food.

"NOT HERE!" Henry cried, seeing their arrival would mess the formation up and quickly split deeper into the camp. From around, shadows danced between the flames, raiders charging through, madly screeching as they cut down any loose stragglers that couldn’t prepare themselves.

His eyes scanned the entire camp. Some men succumbed to their fear, frozen in place, shaking as raiders approached, only to be cut down without attacking. Others climbed for whatever high ground they could, whilst arrows flew in an attempt to hit soemthing.

"DIDN’T WE HAVE SENTRIES!" Oliver hatefully screamed as he dove into a small path between two carriages with Henry.

"WE DID! BUT THE ALERT MUST HAVE BEEN LATE!" Henry ground his teeth and looked around, "FUCK IT! WE SURVIVE! RUSHING FOR A FORMATION WILL ONLY LEAVE US IN THE OPEN!" The two nodded towards one another as they turned their backs on one another.

Oliver watched as another rider charged past, swinging a mace down towards him. Lifitng his sword, the mace flew past and slammed into his chest, knocking him to the ground, taking the air out of his body. Knowing that being on the ground was a death sentence, he pushed himself up and tried to ignore the pain.

Another rider screamed past, aiming for Henry as the knight lifted his sword, being thrown back as the two swords collided. "FIVE MINUTES! THEY WON’T STAY FOR LONG!" Henry screamed out, trying to calm himself and Oliver as another rider zipped past, attacking. Henry lifted his shield at the final moment; the shield shattered on contact with the mace.

Oliver’s head darted side to side, and seeing a second rider approach, ducked and swung low. His sword hit deep into the horse’s legs, making the beast fall forward, carrying Oliver with it, as the rider flew over, crashing into the ground.

Both rose with dazed vision, and looking down at his sword, he realised he didn’t have enough time to go for it. Thinking quickly, he lunged at the rising man and tackled him to the floor, acting on instinct. Throwing heavy punches down, the man pushed his hand under Oliver’s helmet into his face, digging, trying to find his eyes. His finger clawed at his cheeks, finding its way into his mouth. Oliver didn’t hesitate and bit down hard, breaking the finger between his teeth, getting an agonised cry in response.

Reaching around, he grabbed a nearby wooden beam that had split and stabbed through the man’s eye, before another rider flew past, swinging a flail into the back of his head, throwing him forward. A second rider flew past, chucking a torch into the tents they were by, rushing off.

Oliver tried to stand, but fell forward, a ringing in his skull as he greedily sucked in air. He wished to throw his helmet off just to breathe properly, but the aching pain in the back of his skull told otherwise.

Henry moved, grabbing Olive by the arm, pulling him back out of the open, grabbing another shield from the floor, and holding it up. "FOCUS!" His shout was a mixture of buzzing and words, but enough to snap Oliver back into the situation he found himself in. Grabbing his sword, he nodded and slowly rose with Henry’s help as the war cries started to become a distant noise.

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

Jeremy felt the heat rising, and looking at the tent, he saw it catch aflame. Remembering his orders, he rushed out, having barely been able to put on the armour Oliver had gifted him before. Holding the small knife he scavenged, he looked around and saw a real sword lying on the ground. Putting the blade into his belt, he picked it up and rapidly breathed, looking around, barely able to react to a rider zooming past.

Falling backwards, the blade cut across his cheek, leaving a deep scar. The pain nearly made him cry, but knowing it would do no good, he tried to remember Oliver’s teaching. ’Survival overshadows pain. Focus on that.’

Telling himself, he crawled across the floor, taking cover as two more riders ran past, his mind a mess of fear. From beside him, a spear shot towards a rider, impaling the horse coming past, throwing the rider off. A second rider followed, running the man over as Jeremy stared at the desert raider who slowly rose.

The two locked eyes for a brief moment, and inside it, he saw the man intent on killing him, even through the pain and knowledge that he wouldn’t survive leaving the camp. ’Don’t hesitate.’ Oliver’s words echoed in his mind, and seeing the rider still dazed and pained by his fall, Jeremy charged forward, the blood dripping from his cheek sending a stinging pain acorss his entire body.

The desert raider barely reacted, blocking the incoming attack, his movement wild, but slow as he tried to focus on the enemy before him. Jeremy side-stepped, moving himself out of the main path the raiders were charging down. His heart raced, and each breath became a smoke-filled struggle, yet he didn’t stop, nor hesitate, swigging as fast as he could, keeping himself moving.

Even though dazed, the rider kept up with him, but the wound from his fall kept him from truly being able to put him down. His training went out the window in that moment as Jeremy fell into a trance, swinging madly to force an opening. Finally, it came, and with it, he swung the sword deep into the man’s hip, getting a pained groan. From behind the headcloth wrapped around his face, Jeremy saw blood leak through. Pulling his sword, he plunged it deep into the man’s chest and fell backwards, crawling away, shaking, hiding in a gap between burning tents.

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

Oliver charged through the camp, looking around, trying to find Jeremy. Around the camp, men desperately fought the fires burning around, protecting the food as best as they could. Looking around, Oliver saw that the tent he slept in was burnt to the ground and felt his heart sink. Pausing, he scanned the area and finally could relax, seeing the young boy covered in dirt and blood, huddled in on himself, bleeding from his cheek, his hand stained red with blood. Before him, a dead rider lay, their face in the mud.

Oliver sighed over and quickly grabbed him, wiping his cheek, "You did well." Cleaning the wood, he didn’t let Jeremy lean into him, needing to make sure he had no other wounds on him. "No longer green now. It gets easier." Jeremey shook but said nothing, choking back the urge to vomit. Stepping to the side after checking him, Oliver slapped his back as hard as he could, finally making the young boy vomit.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!