Robuald dismounted and knelt down by the tomb. When he stood up again, he felt the presence of the two captains behind him, silent and immobile, sharing his grief.
“Here lie the guardians of the Western Barrier, as we called the fortification whose destruction you witness” he lamented. He fell silent for a few moments before continuing, “Thirty men were stationed here, as we usually arrange for all the mountain passes that allow access to our territory. However, we had never been attacked from this side before, and now that we have learned of your existence, I am not surprised. Only raiders from the arid lands of the far East have come in the past, but we have always repelled them effortlessly, so much so that in recent years we have concluded a peace agreement: we give them cattle and horses every winter, and in exchange they have committed to monitoring those passes, although the only threat from that side was themselves! We prefer, however, to give up some cattle than to engage in victorious campaigns that would inevitably cost us lives.” Robuald paused, thoughtful and surprised by his own reasoning. Then he continued, “I speak of them, as bearers of trouble that have plagued us for several years and now it seems to me like a stupid childish thing. Although I remember how much rancor and concern their patrols caused in our villages. It is true that man assesses a problem correctly only when a worse one happens to him! Now I understand that we reject serenity in the time we can enjoy it, only to regret it later when it is definitively lost.” He fell silent again and sighed, looking again at the mound, but soon he asked, “Tell me, Sigismund, did something similar happen in your Realm?”
Sigismund smiled with sadness, and replied, “Maybe not, my good Robuald. In reality, our people suffered the misfortune of knowing evil long before yours, so that the wise and the elders – although they were not always the same people – did not allow anyone to waste their gifts, especially that of peace. According to our laws, in fact, a liar was punished more severely than a thief, because no good was valued as much as harmony. But what is the meaning of recalling ancient customs now that they are lost?” Sigismund concluded bitterly.
“Not forever!” clarified Robuald. “Not forever. My people are simple and may appear underdeveloped in their arrangements, yet we are willing to learn what we deem right and suitable for our customs. Commerce is not widely spread among us and we have never had excessive contacts with different cultures, and certainly that has benefited the common enemy. Perhaps, if our two races had been allied as they are now, he would not have attacked us with such impudence and boldness, and above all, he would not have achieved a victory that now seems overwhelming.”
“No, Robuald,” Sigismund corrected him, “I don't think your customs will appear inferior to ours, because the words you have spoken are words of wisdom. Certainly, the recent events could have followed a different course if our forces had joined at the beginning of the war instead of its end, or maybe both would have been equally defeated and there would be no hope that you now represent. It is not up to us to decide which course of events is better, because our vision is too short. What matters is that, as you generously remind me, not everything is lost. But now, please forgive our curiosity and tell us about the battle that took place here.”
Robuald looked the greenish hill with a mournful gaze one last time. Then, he turned around, sat on a burned stump – soon imitated by his companions – and began to speak in a firm tone: “Months ago, with the onset of a new moon, dark monsters sprung from the darkest darkness and invaded the passage we have just crossed, catching the Guardians of the Border completely off guard. As I have already said, we would have never expected any danger from this side, and only a few soldiers were guarding it as a precaution. And it was a good thing that there were not more of them stationed there, as they were taken by surprise and in a moment they perished, enveloped by flames.
Those crawling and wicked beings had started the fire, using, I believe, an enchanted torch that corrodes even the walls. No one had time to escape, and I hope that the fire that feeds on rock, so powerful that it incinerates it, has quickly given peace to our relatives. The few remains were all found inside the fortress. However, their sacrifice was not in vain, since the glow of the fire was spotted far away in the dark night, and the alarm quickly spread throughout every hamlet. Our settlements, even the smallest ones, are equipped with a signalling tower and every adult knows that it is their duty to arm themselves and gather at the City of Stone when they spot the fires of war.
Meanwhile, the enemy had taken possession of the pass, and their troops were pouring in. Whenever they reached a sufficient number to form a horde, they would set out to devastate the villages. Evidently, as the guard post had proved to be such an easy prey, they were convinced that they would not find any serious opposition.
Heart wrenching laments rose to the sky from the unarmed brothers, and even higher were the flames that devoured houses and fields. But those same fires determined the condemnation of the attackers, illuminating and marking their passage, which was easily followed and signalled by the observers, who immediately set out from the spared villages.
After ten days, our army had assembled a sufficient number of armed men to strike. We went to war galloping against the main enemy horde, which marched along the West Road that crosses the region, without any precaution.
If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
We waited for them on a ridge, where the road narrows between two high banks, and we catapulted ourselves onto them from both sides. They did not expect an assault of such violence, and so we were able to rout them, driven by the fury inspired by the image of the wounds inflicted by their misdeeds in our villages, described by the accounts of the few who had survived their massacres. That exaltation and stupefaction pushed us to act blindly, without feeling either reason, fatigue, or even prudence, and if their forces had been only slightly superior, and guided with skill, they could have prevailed.” Robuald's eyes gleamed with the fervor of the story, while the muscles of his whole body tensed, as if he were still battling. Astor did not miss a word and tried to imagine how he would have led the fight.
“We managed to defeat them,” he continued, “even though that first success cost us dearly. Since a long time, or rather, never before then, had we fought against such a fierce opponent, and we soon realized that we would have to proceed with greater caution to see victory smile on us.
Over the next few weeks, we roamed the western lands, crushing any resistance. As the number of victories increased, an uncontrollable sorrow spread in our hearts, discovering the horrendous slaughter that had been perpetrated against our brothers and nature, whose agony grew with our advance.”
Some of the places most dear to us were burned by ruthless fire, and will never regain the charm they once had.” He quieted down, only to resume forcefully: “After the first battle, I decided to divide my forces into two groups: the one led by me would head Northwest, and the other led by my brother Romuald – who will never return to his wife again – would head Southwest.” He paused again, disconsolately lowering his head, and the two listeners thought that his entire body was being bent down by an enormous, invisible weight. But the vision disappeared the moment the storyteller suddenly raised his head as if trying to break free from heavy chains and, agitatedly, added: “We were supposed to reunite at this very spot where the invasion had spread from, and where we expected to find a sizable enemy force stationed to defend the pass that was the only route for them to receive reinforcements. In the meantime, a dense network of patrols would have encircled all the roads branching out from here, while reinforcements were arriving from every village to make the net impenetrable. However, there were no new raid, but not due to the protection we had set up. It seemed, in fact, that the offender had suddenly retreated as he had arrived, and for several days, the patrols I sent ahead found no trace of the enemy. At that point, I was seized with great agitation and many dilemmas plagued me during those endless, chilling nights. Perhaps I had made a mistake by separating my army, thus taking away a significative shield from the force sent to the South if the enemy had concentrated his attack there. Or maybe, if he had launched a powerful attack toward the heart of our domains in the East, the defense line would not have held, and the prey would have slipped through my fingers, forcing me into an exhausting and, moreover, belated pursuit. However, it could also be that the opponent did not intend to engage fully, and that most of his forces had already been eliminated. Such were the doubts that tormented my rest, and indeed, I was not granted much, so much so that I began to suspect that the opposing power had even taken hold of my mind to lead me into making a fatal mistake. Long days passed, enveloped in an abnormal, mocking peace and only the funereal discovery of human corpses scattered along our path – reduced to a state that I cannot even bear to describe – made us guess the impending danger.” Robuald interrupted the narration, struck by a sudden intuition, then he exclaimed: “Of course! Only now do I understand to what extent the wickedness of the pursuer had gone. Those bodies had been left to the beasts in such wretched conditions, precisely to slow down our march, well aware that we would stop to bury their desecrated bodies! How foolish! But how could I imagine that the dead could be used to capture the living?”
Seeing that the two captains from the West were confused, Robuald began to explain: “Forgive me, friends. I have only expressed a horrible intuition that just occurred to me aloud. Every time we came across one of our fallen brothers, I ordered to stop and bury them. I knew many of those faces, whose features were twisted by a fear and terror unknown to us, and that aroused an unstoppable feeling of pity. I believed it was right to bury the mark of so much suffering underground, so that our consciences would not be tormented by the remorse of abandoning the remains of those unfortunate ones whom we had failed to protect in life. I realize that a people more accustomed to the art of war would not have made such a mistake, leaving the dead to death.”
“A people that abandons its own deceased loved ones to obey the rules of war is soon destined to join them,” noted Sigismund, clarifying: “Only fools believe that one must use the enemy's weapons to defeat them. How absurd to give up the mastery attained, to adopt unknown techniques that can only make us inferior! No, Robuald, you did not make a mistake and if we did not act like you, it is only because of different circumstances beyond our control. How I wished we could have paid tribute to our King and all the heroes who fell defending him! But it was not granted to us. Therefore, consider yourself privileged for being able to do what was denied to us. Even today, I cannot accept the fact that I fled without being able to do anything, not even for our Sire, not even in his death,” the knight sighed loudly.
“Yet it is possible that the fate that awaits us may prove even worse, my brother," Astor tried to reassure him, “so let Robuald finish this report, as this place does not guarantee us safety and the sooner we leave, the better!” Sigismund silently agreed, and the captain from the East said: “At the end of a month after the last battle, I came within sight of these hills.” This time, however, he interrupted himself, disconsolate, unable to continue, while his spirit wandered far away and the features of his face contorted and distorted in a mask of anguish.