The day began with a grim mood. The city of Rochad was hushed and the only thing that made a noise were the indifferent animals who lowed, neighed, and bleated as normal.
Fernmaige had ordered, under strict secrecy, for his army to prepare and silently form up near the gates under the cover of darkness. He had given instructions for any person who did not want to fight this battle with him to stay behind and they would not need to answer to any authority.
He begged Caer Omaith to stay behind, but nothing would sway her. She had not cried at her father’s death. There was a cold look in her eye and her silence spoke loudly of the resolve and revenge that was in her heart.
Five thousand warriors, men and woman formed up soundlessly, their expressions as cold as Caer Omaith. Seeing her pain, they matched her mood and would die to help this princess, to try and prevent further bloodshed by this army and their dark lord from wiping away all that is good, to satisfy their hunger for ultimate power.
The gates were silently opened, and the army marched on muted feet out of the city. Once they were all out of the city, they removed the muffled armour and horses’ shoes and stood in silent ranks awaiting the command from King Fernmaige. The horses did not move, understanding the need for absolute stillness. Their twitching muscles, aching to move after resting for too long were taught with anticipation.
As the light of the sun burst onto the horizon Fernmaige orders all men with bugles to sound loudly and they sprang forward as one and attacked the sleeping camp of the enemy.
The dark soldiers were completely stunned. Caught off guard. The Athlethan archers lit their arrows and shot fire into the tents of the snoring soldiers. They awoke to fire, fire in the horses’ eyes, fire from the tents glinting off the gold coated armour of the armies of Enna Aignech. These men wanted revenge for losing their city and fire was in their eyes. Nothing lived after they passed through, and they reached a quarter of the way in before the enemy rallied and formed a line of defence.
The dark eyed soldiers of the Deep Lands trembled at the sight coming toward them. With fire behind them they looked large and powerful. But they stood their ground, fearful of the wrath of the dark lord if they did not. Shield clashed with spear and sword and the noise was deafening. Horses screamed as they attacked with the spikes on their forelegs. Men leaped from horses and fought hand to hand combat with two or three men at a time.
From Rochad the city was in an uproar. It took some time to realise they had been left out of an attack and were preparing rapidly to back up the army of Enna Aignech.
“Hold,” Tethra cried, “they need to do this alone.” He hastily sent out the message to the generals who were placed at various places over the city walls.
“They need to do this alone, it is about their honour, if we need to help them, we will, wait for three trumpet blasts.”
Otherwise, they would hold the city till they got back. Tethra knew they could not win and would retreat the second they lost the upper hand and element of surprise. He made sure they were ready to help them retreat by send out his Riangbra warriors to hide in the boulders and hold back an advancing army while the exhausted warriors escaped.
Fernmaige and Caer Omaith pushed forward, their cries urging the soldiers to attack once more. Many more of the enemy fell. But as the numbers swelled in the lines of Amerghin’s forces the pushes became harder and they lost more men.
From the rear lines watching the attack, Amerghin turned to Ruad. “Here is your chance” he said, “you are to ride out and meet Fernmaige and kill him. They will lose morale and it could mean victory, prove yourself to the dark lord.”
Ruad was afraid that Amerghin would see through his change of heart. He had no choice, so he gathered his best men and rode fast toward the battle front. His army cheered and parted to let him through. Warriors and soldiers on both sides stopped fighting to watch Ruad ride up to where Fernmaige and Caer Omaith were fighting alongside their men.
With heavy heart he pointed his sword at Fernmaige. “Fight me” he cried. The battle had already begun in his heart as he thought of Morann back in his tent. He felt sick and nearly vomited. But, he managed to keep up the appearance of fierceness and confidence.
Fernmaige dismounted and walked toward Ruad. The armies had stopped to watch. They were amid the two sides, watched by many eyes.
Ruad also dismounted and moved toward Fernmaige.
He looked at Fernmaige and groaned internally. He could not kill Morann’s cousin. He would rather die than do this to the one he loved.
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Suddenly a cry from the ranks of soldiers. He looked back from where he had come. He saw Amergin holding a woman. It was Morann. “Kill him” Amerghin cried, “or I kill her.” Cruelty etched across his face, eager to see what Ruad would do.
There was silence as Ruad gazed over the distance into the eyes of Morann. He had reached the end, he fell to his knees and sobbed a huge breath in.
But Amerghin was no longer looking at him. From the rear was heard the thunder of hoof beats. It was the white warriors of the Rechrainn, the Rochad riders were upon them, led by Findtain. Amerghin dropped the already forgotten Morann and leaped on a horse, riding for his life, terrified, surrounded by his best warriors. But he was overcome and surrounded. His soldiers tried their best to protect him, but they fell till Amerghin had no one left. With the smallest number of chances, one fell his way and he took it. He just managed to escape to the lines of soldiers who were awaiting their turn to attack, they were reluctant to do so, out of fear of what they had just seen.
More than six thousand soldiers of Amergin’s forces had lain dormant during the battle, unable to do anything, and on the most part they were safe as no army would dare attack them because of their sheer weight of numbers.
At the same time Ruad leaped on his horse and galloped toward Morann, he grabbed her hand as he rode past and she swung onto the horse behind him, holding his waist and they also escaped behind enemy lines. Ruad took Morann far from the battle camp to a village and rented a house, where he put her secretly and safely with two older trusted guards who posed as her parents.
Morann was initially furious at Ruad. But then saw reason. She did not tell Ruad yet, but she knew she was with child. Dagemar had told her.
The remaining soldiers of the enemy were in disarray and retreated through the attacking Rochad horsemen.
Fernmaige rallied his men and leaped forward once more, eager to punish them further. But they were stopped in their tracks by a feeling of dread. Thunder clouds formed fast, and lightening flashed across the sky. A strong wind eddied around the battlefield, trees were whipped about, and branches snapped and flew about. Out of the darkness and a flash of lightning a huge black horse with a black rider holding aloft a flaming sword from which lightning, not the white flashing seen from clouds, but dark lightning edged with a purple light. From the direction and in the blackness came a roar like a thousand winds. The fury of the dark lord himself, Mac Roth holding his sword, Fire coming from his eyes caused the entire army of warriors to take a step back, then another, then they began to run toward the city of Rochad, the fear palpable.
The dark lightning flashed outwards and hit the backs of the fleeing soldiers. They dissolved into ash in an instant. When Mac Roth came near to the wall his horse turned and galloped along the wall of the city. With him was the wind and the rain began, laced with large hail and stinging sleet. The warriors lining the top of the wall retreated from the onslaught. The dark lighting from Mac Roth continued to hit parts of the wall at random causing large chunks of rock to explode off it and fall to the ground. Some brave warriors were hit and were gone.
Caer Omaith looked at her brother and her eyes said “enough.” Four blasts and they began to retreat to the city. The army of Amerghin also jumped forward eager to take advantage of this sudden retreat. They knew by sheer numbers they could win, bolstered by the dark Lords vision of fury and fear. Their shouts of frustration as they ran but knew they would not be able to complete this battle, became a roar.
When the soldiers were close to the city boulders, Athlethan’s Riangbra warriors one thousand strong stepped forward allowing the warriors of Enna Aignech between them and into the safety of the city. Their swords flashed and dropped many soldiers as they ran, they fell into heaps behind them carried past by the momentum of their run. They swung swords and spear but the only resistance they felt was air. Not one Riangbra warrior fell that day. They retreated, swords flashing till the enemy were too close to the city wall and were falling at the hands of the archers atop the walls of Rochad. Their own retreat was sounded, and they disappeared behind the pall of smoke from their burning tents.
Caer Omaith and Fernmaige were the last through the gates behind the soldiers and the whole city cheered as they entered. Both covered in the blood of the enemy they had slain. Just as the storm hit.
The storm persisted and it became as black as night with howling wind, sleet, and hail, the battlefield became muddy and slippery and Amerghin sounded the blast for retreat once more.
In Rochad, Fiall ran to her friend helping her dismount from Mornai. The tired horse was taken away to have a hot wash down and Fiall helped Caer Omaith walk to her chamber and take off her armour. When she was comfortable Caer Omaith released all her grief for her father, her brothers and Morann, she cried into her friend’s shoulder. Weeping for seeing her sister in the hands of Amerghin, a dagger to her throat. Fernmaige heard her cries and came, and they all embraced, crying together for the sadness that loss brings. They knew that Morann was alive and that one day they might see her again. This bought a tinge of consolation to the heart of Caer Omaith.
Many bards have written songs since the great battle of Fernmaige and Caer Omaith. The bravery of men and women who stood alongside their beloved princess and king and gave their lives for the honour of their just rulers and for the wondrous Riangbra warriors of Athlethan.
No one held it against the warriors of Enna Aignech for running from the dark Lords vision of fury. They were not used to these sorts of visions and expression of power. But times were changing.
The warriors as usual had counted the enemy they had slain and of those who had fallen, and it was estimated Amerghin had lost three thousand men and their belongings. These men were given food and told to travel back to Enna Aignech to replenish their supplies. Amerghin was livid, they had failed again. But not as furious as the Dark Lord. Mt. Triune erupted once more, and an earthquake was felt across the south which cracked buildings in the cities and towns.
Amerghin slowly retreated to Enna Aignech also, angry and eager, they would try again soon, he would return with twenty thousand soldiers. This time they would not give up till Rochad and Athlethan were under their control, and he would be king of all the Deep Lands in the south. He had underestimated the strength and resolve of the people of Muirthemne and Athlethan and he had no idea of the prophecy that was being fulfilled in the north.
Ruad now knew Tuatha was not fighting alongside his kin. Morann had told him. His troubled mind continued to plague him with doubt and fear. He feared the Dark Lord and he loved Morann. He could not sleep unless she was beside him, but she was now far from him, so he became ill from lack of sleep and anxiety, now he was general of the weakened army as Amerghin had fled in fear of the Rechrainn. Returning to Mt. Triune to meet with Mac Roth. It would be many cycles before they would try again to destroy these annoying countries that hampered them from taking what was theirs by self-proclaimed right.