“Anthanasius!” Luke called repeatedly as he led the charge through the forest they hoped would be a rescue. Hearing a friend’s voice in the exhaustion of battle may, he hoped, give his friend strength enough to defend himself longer than would have been possible otherwise.

They heard another noise from a different direction and altered their course accordingly. Luke charged on as fast as his legs would propel him. He slipped a few times on the first of the fallen leaves but continued on as fast as ever. The others knew their commander was in danger and loved him for the trials he led them through over the last month. They followed close on Luke’s heels in an attempt to save him.

Coming perpendicularly to a head with the Shalmen, the leaders drew steel and charged, shouting, straight into the midst, while those following with bows stopped in a line and fired rapidly where they saw an opportunity to hit the enemy without risking their friends.

Siadhal arrived last in the little clearing and immediately surveyed the situation. Some Shalmen continued on, and he charged after them with two comrades following. He lunged forward and cut one down unawares with an effort, and they charged onward. Siadhal called Anthanasius’ name loudly and received a reply from close ahead.

*****

At the sound of his name, Anthanasius turned to make another stand and let his friends come up from beside his pursuers. He shouted a loud cry and turned savagely to the first enemy with his sword held in both hands. The enemy lunged at Anthanasius with a cry of hatred and met him in a fierce man-to-man duel where he forced his fatigued opponent backwards.

Siadhal wasn’t more than a score of yards away when he caught sight of the battle and commanded one of the men with him to stop and fire, while he and the other continued forward. The Shalmen soldier knocked Anthanasius’ sword from his hands and smiled grimly at the small knife he drew before charging again as Anthanasius backed away to buy time and prepared to dodge. The Shalmen raised his dread weapon above his head and stood ready to strike, but before he brought it forward, Anthanasius saw a red arrowhead sticking six inches out through a diamond-shaped inlay in the pierced breastplate of his assailant, who fell slowly to the ground.

The other Shalmen fell after a desperate struggle, but fell nonetheless. After a brief reunion with Anthanasius, the din of battle came back to their ears, and all hurried to help their friends in the fray.

*****

Luke thrust his sword desperately at whatever his enemy presented that appeared vulnerable. The meele soon turned into individual battles as the small groups spread to allow room for use of weapons, and the Rohian archers who stayed behind at first joined in at this stage to slowly but inexorably turn the skirmish in their favor.

Though pressed hard toward the end, one Shalmen soldier found a moment to blow loudly on his battle horn to signal the larger company. A well-swung sword cut into his chest and caused the blast to falter, but not soon enough. A horn answered the now dead Shalmen from several miles away but still filled the spent troops with dread.

Winning the battle brought a measure of relief but the two among them dead and the many with more or less severe wounds, combined with the horn blast, kept them focused on their precarious situation.

“Thank you for your rescue,” Anthanasius said collectively to all the survivors as he looked around at those who died for their kingdom, and more specifically for him, their captain. After the single horn call, silence reigned in the distant forest. In their immediate proximity, the surviving soldiers checked their perimeter, looked at their comrades without saying a word, and blinked fast to keep the tears from falling for their fallen friends. Anthanasius gave a brief order to tend to the wounded and then stepped over to Siadhal to consult what to do next.

Siadhal kept a better sense the directions they moved and therefore provided valuable information for Anthanasius’ decision. To his, and later everyone’s, relief, Echo Slope wasn’t between them and the distant horn call. Instead, if they fled the Shalmen, they would progress in the general direction of Echo Slope and arrive by midday.

Anthanasius turned back to address the group. Some tended the worse of the wounded while others gathered arrows or wiped bloody blades on their fallen foes’ tunics or clumps of stained grass.

“That horn answered from several miles away, but we musn’t tarry,” he said. “Those still fit enough will help to carry the dead and wounded who need support.”

Everyone assumed as much and had already prepared to carry out the works of mercy as best as their situation permitted, but hearing an order spoken from their self-sacrificing leader energized them and directed their efforts more diligently to their work.

“We’ll need to move out right away to stay ahead of the Shalmen,” he continued. “Echo Slope is now close, and Lord Marillac will shelter us until we are strong enough to journey back to Rohalot. I know you’re all tired nearly to death, but we are almost there. The Shalmen have proven they’re not stopping while we’re in the forest, so if we can’t make it to Echo Slope by noon I don’t think we ever will.”

Even the seriously wounded met this optimistic order with renewed fervor. They set off at a measured pace once bandages were applied well enough. Siadhal led and Anthanasius helped others along the rough path they forged with the quick and confident step that they drew nearer to safety every moment.

Siadhal stopped the company at the sound of another horn. This time, though, the horn didn’t chill their blood. It sounded alike and yet different. Somehow questioning instead of commanding. They answered the welcome call with a long blow on their hunting horn. With the blast of each, it seemed as if they already rested safe in the dining hall at Echo Slope. It sounded again, in front of them, so they proceeded again on their way, their spirits rising like the sun.

They heard the sound of a horse blowing in front of them. Luke and two others approached warily while the rest hung back as they could see no one. Luke spotted the horse as it exhaled again but saw no rider. They stopped, unsure of what to do.

A moment later, a hunter clad in green moved from a tree and stood before them. In addition to the green cloak, he also wore brown leather boots, kept his head hooded with a cowl, and carried double-edges throwing knives in sheaths at his chest. What they could see of his face below the cowl looked friendly and better kept than their haggard features. Too exhausted to startle much, they stared at the lone man who seemed to be a friend.

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“Greetings soldiers of Rohia, with your wounded, do you make for Echo Slope?”

He paused, waiting for them to affirm or deny his deduction. Luke stepped forward and answered, “We do make for Echo Slope. Is that where you are from, friend?”

“I am Eymard of the house Galot. Echo Slope is a short ride south. Your wounded may use our mounts.” With that, he turned and led them a short way through the forest to a hunter’s path.

“There are others then.” Siadhal said excitedly, feeling relieved some could now ride. Eymard looked at him with a smile and blew a series of short notes on his horn. They heard approaching hooves, and from the forest walked five men similar to Eymard: clad in green and brown, some clean shaven, and all with kind, unyielding eyes. Without even a sign from Eymard, they lined the horses along the path so the wounded could easily mount. Anthanasius spoke next, “Luke, gather the others.”

Belen, with his many wounds, received help up from the opposite stirrup and behind by the strangers without a request. Carefully removing the blood soaked bandage from his leg, one pulled out a new cloth and dressed the wound better than the previous haste allowed.

“Thank you,” Anthanasius said, coming forward, “Eshua will not forget this kindness.”

Not wanting attention, Eymard nodded his head in thanks and signaled for a fellow hunter to lead out of the forest. As the company began moving, Anthanasius and Luke took positions by Eymard.

“The blood is fresh on some; are there more enemies near?” Eymard questioned, sensing their concern and wasting no time.

“Yes, though we know not how strong. I don’t want to run into them.” Anthanasius replied, looking toward him. Eymard nodded.

“Aldous. Everard. We need a patrol to the west.” Two young hunters about Luke’s age from in front of them quickly moved off the path to the right with an easy grace that comes from growing up in the forest. The two made less noise than a wild stag.

Nearing the edge of the forest, the trees began to thin in a welcoming way, allowing the rising sun to penetrate to the soldiers’ faces. Rowaton Forest, which so recently hindered their efforts, began to soften as they walked along an established route with Rohian hunters and a guard some distance away to warn of approaching danger. Even the air seemed to change; it felt hot and thick when stifled with anxiety, but now they acknowledged the coolness of the morning and noticed autumn wildflowers blooming at intervals along the side of the friendly route. Goldenrod, with its thousands of yellow stars bedecking the brightening forest, waved as if in welcome. Yarrow, with spindly stems holding up large spreads of white petals, lit up an expanse where no trees grew.

Little changed except their travel companions, but the new faces lightened the load of worry from their burdened minds.

“My sons,” Eymard said proudly as he motioned to where Aldous and Everard walked into the forest. “They are growing into great hunters and rangers.”

Luke smiled and looked where they would be keeping watch but he could not see or hear their movements. Eymard spoke again.

“I also have three daughters,” The twinkle in his eyes grew even brighter thinking of his family, “and the most beautiful loving wife a man could ask for.”

Luke smiled through his eyes and from ear to ear while looking around thinking about what desires lay on his heart for the future. The rest of the way through the forest the rays of sunlight filtering through the now thinning trees dispersed the shadow of fear hanging above them.

As much as anyone took time to think of anything but their proximity to Echo Slope and the safety it afforded, their thoughts ran on the casualties during their mission, those of the night, and most especially the loss of Agar.

The group grew close over the previous weeks and loved one another as brothers. Losing Agar presumably alive seemed worse to all than the others known to be dead. All knew the enemy invaders and their thoughts rapidly traversed the possibilities awaiting him.

*****

The forest ended gradually and the full sun finally shone visibly to their left. In front of them they could see Echo Slope rising above the surrounding plains. Most from Anthanaisus’ company, including him, visited Echo Slope before and knew it well, but past visits or not, all recognized the distinct fortress. An enormous rock sat at the bottom of a gently sloping meadow dotted with boulders, and three sides rose as sheer rocky cliffs. Only by following the winding path could horses reach the top.

This natural formation led to the construction of an easily-guarded castle hundreds of years ago. A rather large village sprang up during construction, and after completion, the people took to hunting the forests, raising crops, and tending cattle.

The grassy heath spread in a muted green from Rowaton Forest to Echo Slope, rolling as it went along. The war now seemed so far behind as they gazed along the path through cattle carelessly grazing, among the thatched houses, and finally up the path which narrowed as it led to the distant castle.

Eymard broke the silence upon noticing his son’s emergence from the forest, “Come, your wounded need care.”

The ragged soldiers walking through the town drew many stares. Here at Echo Slope the war seemed so small and so far away. Now, though, with wounded soldiers coming for refuge, the invasion finally seemed real.

*****

Eymard led Anthanasius and his soldiers up the slope leading to the castle. Many layers of walls and gates stood between the slope’s bottom and the main keep, but they passed through easily. The guards recognized Anthanasius and the hunters and welcomed them. First they helped the wounded away to rest and have their larger wounds tended to. After the group thanked Eymard for his assistance, he and his band of hunters remounted their horses and rode off.

Anthanasius and Luke remained with Thomas, the steward, while the others in good health went to wait for a meal. As the others walked off, Thomas broke the silence by suggesting an audience with the lord of Echo Slope. He led them past guards, through stone tunnels, up winding staircases, and finally knocked at a heavy door where they were shown in.

Lord Marillac welcomed them kindly and listened intently as Anthanasius told all the events since their hasty departure from the clearing in the forest. Political reasons prevented him from telling much more, which Lord Marillac understood; he asked no questions.

When Anthanasius finished speaking, Lord Marillac addressed both him and Luke, “No doubt you are wary; you may wash and eat in the dining hall. Thomas will arrange beds for all your men before they are done eating. If you are heading to Rohalot Castle, the road between here and there remains safe, but you may rest here as long as you wish. I will send a rider this morning to inform them of your safety.”

He continued on, “You know, of course, Anthanasius, that the monks will take excellent care of your men. You still may wish to visit them.”

Finished addressing Anthanasius and Luke, Lord Marillac spoke to Thomas, “Show them where they may wash and eat; and see to preparing enough beds.”

Thomas bowed slightly then turned to leave with Anthanasius and Luke following.

Most of the other men already began their meals when they arrived in the dining hall after having washed. Anthanasius and Luke joined the group and received food promptly. The steward hovered around nervously for a while saying how delighted they were to have guests, and though they prepared a fine breakfast on such short notice, dinner would taste even better. They were to make no mistake about that. Finally, he eased into the knowledge of unexpected guests, excused himself, and left.

The group all sat together at a long stout oak table but talked little. Hunger gripped them all so they ate rapidly, especially after hearing the steward mumble something about needing to prepare sleeping quarters.

As each finished with his meal, Thomas showed each one to the room prepared for him with an invitation to a feast with Lord Marillac that evening.

Luke finished eating last and when shown to his room, his head hardly touched the pillow before he fell into a deep sleep.