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Seven - To War Part 1

Tethra stiffened, his taught neck muscles twinged as his keen eyes picked out movement in the darkness from atop the walls of Enna Aignech.

Then relief. Deftly, slender fingers massaged his tender neck muscles, and he relaxed. “Devorgill,” he felt relieved and slightly excited. His heart raced, feeling her fingers on his shoulders.

Neither of them felt game to reveal their true feelings.

“I’ve brought you a hot beverage,” she murmured. He smiled at her then looked back into the darkness.

“How dare you,” Devorgill said, poking him in the ribs. “You would rather stare at blackness than talk to your friend?”

Tethra turned and grinned at her. “Sorry, it’s my job. I’m on watch and I have a distraction, I might be reported for ignoring my duty. Of course I’d rather look at you, for the rest of my life. It is my d….!” He stopped and went red, but she could not see it. Devorgill looked at him in surprise, her face also blushing.

“I mean… I... I... enjoy looking at you.” Tethra groaned inwardly, looking away and shaking his head at himself, embarrassed at his words.

A few moments passed as their racing thoughts about each other were mulled about.

“I like you sharing your real feelings,” said Devorgill.

Tethra kept quiet, unwilling to speak again out of fear that the discomfort would make her leave. He looked out over the lightening horizon and sipped his hot soup.

He glanced at Devorgill. He admired her feminine figure in the light battle armour made of leather and metal. She had a sword strapped to her side and he admired her beauty, even dressed in these clothes made for war.

All girls were taught to fight from a young age. Devorgill and Caer Omaith, even Fiall, being princesses, were no exception. In fact, they were trained not only in combat, but strategy and could lead a battalion if required. Their speed and dexterity were feared by men, both in training and in battle. Tethra could not help but feel the fear that the attacking armies would feel when this woman came for them, sword flashing.

“Their armies are still a day cycle away,” he said to her. “You should go and rest. It will probably be tomorrow evening when they arrive.” A quick glance lengthened, lingering on Devorgill’s warm eyes. He quickly looked away, his heart thudding in his chest. “There is no way she would be interested in me,” he thought. Little did he know that Devorgill was thinking the same.

The walls of Enna Aignech slowly started to appear in outline as the light grew. It was cloudy so the light grew slowly.

Caer Omaith appeared at the top of the stairs leading onto the wall and came over to Tethra and Devorgill. Caer Omaith, as always, seemed troubled. As she approached, Tethra saw she also looked pale and ill. Caer Omaith took a mouthful of the concoction given to her from Edras the healer. She could feel her energy flood back, but it did not help her anxiety.

“What is wrong?” asked Tethra.

“My brothers can only fight amongst themselves,” she said. “I cannot get them to focus on the coming battle.” She began to cough, bending down with the effort and the pain it caused. “Oh Caer, my love,” said Fiall, who had arrived from another part of the wall. “Why are you up here, you should be in bed.”

“I will not rest till this is over,” Caer Omaith whispered hoarsely between coughs.

She took another drink from a viol and sighed as the coughing eased and once more her energy grew. “This helps a lot, but each time I do, it does not last as long,” she said morosely.

Devorgill hugged her sister, patting her on the back, worry etched across her face.

Tethra struggled with his shyness around Devorgill. They had seen less of each other lately, as their duties meant they rarely crossed paths.

But Tethra’s heart always ached when he did see her, the ache of unspoken love. He saw his friends so easily becoming lovers and wondered why he could not connect with Devorgill in the same way.

It had been a few day cycles since he had last seen her, and Tethra was resting from his duties. He heard a group coming his way, shouting, and laughing as a group of friends do. Tethra noticed two of the group at the back, deep in conversation. It was Devorgill and his heart smote his chest in jealousy as he saw the man she was with reach down and grab her hand. It was one of the captains of the army of Enna Aignech, Firas. He had returned a hero after bravely saving a battalion by attacking the enemy and driving them back.

Then Tethra’s heart fell, and he cursed himself for waiting so long. As they passed, Devorgill glanced around and spotted him. Their eyes met, and she smiled and waved. She pulled Firas toward Tethra and approached him.

“Firas, this is my good friend Tethra.”

Firas looked annoyed but feigned politeness.

“Yes, I know General Tethra, we have met before.” He saluted, acknowledging Tethra’s rank.

Tethra forced a smile, returning the salute with a nod. "Captain Firas, it's good to see you again. Your recent victory was impressive. The army speaks highly of your bravery."

Firas inclined his head slightly, his lips curling into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Thank you, General. It was a team effort. We all played our parts."

Devorgill stood between them, sensing a tension but not yet understanding its source. She turned her radiant smile to Tethra. "We were just heading to the market. Would you like to join us, Tethra?"

Tethra hesitated, his heart torn between the desire to be near Devorgill and the pain of seeing her with Firas. He realised that maybe there was nothing deep between Firas and Devorgill, otherwise she would not have invited him. His hope and confidence grew, but before he could respond, Firas spoke up.

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"I'm sure the General has important matters to attend to. We wouldn't want to keep him from his duties," he said smoothly.

Devorgill's smile faltered, and she looked at Tethra expectantly. He saw the flicker of disappointment in her eyes and suddenly knew he couldn't refuse her. Summoning his courage, he shook his head.

"Actually, I have some free time. I'd be happy to join you."

Devorgill's face lit up, and she looped her arm through his. Firas's eyes darkened for a moment, but he quickly masked his irritation. The three of them walked together arm in arm, Devorgill in the middle. The sounds of the bustling market growing louder as they approached.

As they wandered through the market stalls, Devorgill chattered excitedly about the goods on display, her enthusiasm infectious. Tethra found himself relaxing, enjoying her company despite the undercurrent of jealousy he felt towards Firas. They stopped at a stall selling delicate silver jewellery and Devorgill admired a bracelet, its intricate design catching the sunlight.

"It's beautiful," she breathed, her eyes shining.

Firas immediately reached for his coin pouch. "Allow me, Devorgill. A token of my admiration for you."

Before he could hand over the money, Tethra stepped forward, his hand gently closing over Firas's. "Please, let me," he said quietly. "It's the least I can do for a dear friend."

Firas stared at him, a challenge in his gaze, but Tethra didn't back down. After a tense moment, Firas released the pouch and stepped back, his expression hardening. But gracious in defeat.

Devorgill looked between them, sensing the unspoken conflict and knowing now that she was the cause. Her interest in Firas was forgotten, now that Tethra had finally shown his intentions. She accepted the bracelet from Tethra with a grateful smile, slipping it onto her wrist. "Thank you, Tethra. It's lovely."

Tethra felt a warmth spread through him at her words, a small victory in the ongoing battle within his heart. As they continued to explore the market, he found himself drawing strength from her presence, determined not to let his shyness and jealousy keep him from her any longer.

The day passed in a blur of laughter and conversation, and for a little while, Tethra forgot his heartache. He and Firas even spent time in conversation while Devorgill walked on ahead.

“How did you and Devorgill meet?” Firas asked. Tethra smiled, looking down at the ground blankly, remembering the moment. “I arrived from Athlethan tired and an emotional wreck,” he said. “She saw me looking pretty miserable and I was filthy and smelled awful. She offered me rest and food. She was very kind and I….” He looked at Firas, unsure as to whether he trusted him enough to tell him of his feelings.

“Go on,” said Firas. “I know you like her a lot, and she has something for you. I hope you know that and won’t waste it.”

“I loved her from that moment.” Tuatha whispered. His eyes widening at his openness, which was so unfamiliar to him.

Firas laughed, “Well, you told me, why haven’t you told her yet, you fool. I see what you saw then, and I was not going to waste time. You nearly lost her to me.”

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the market, they made their way back to the. Firas, reluctantly, but resigned to Tethra and Devorgill’s now obvious affection for each other, excused himself, citing duties he needed to attend to.

Tethra and Devorgill walked in companionable silence for a while, the sounds of the market fading behind them. Finally, Devorgill turned to him, her expression serious.

"Tethra, is something bothering you? You seem distant."

Tethra took a deep breath, his heart pounding. This was his chance to finally speak his truth. "Devorgill, there's something I need to tell you. Something I've been too afraid to say."

She stopped walking, her eyes searching his, her own heart pounding. "What is it, Tethra?"

He took her hands in his, feeling the cool metal of her bracelet against his skin. "I care for you, Devorgill. More than just as a friend. I've been a coward, letting my shyness and fear hold me back. But seeing you with Firas today... it made me realize I can't stay silent any longer. I love you, Devorgill. I have loved you since I arrived here." His words came out fast and nervously. He finished and forgot to breathe, staring into Devorgill’s eyes.

Devorgill's own eyes widened as he spoke, and for a moment, she was silent. Then she squeezed his hands, a soft smile spreading across her face. "Oh, Tethra... I thought you had lost interest in me. I care for you too. I've been waiting so long for you to say something."

Relief and joy surged through Tethra, and he pulled her into an embrace, his heart soaring. "I'm sorry it took me so long. But I'm here now. And I will not let you go again."

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, Tethra knew that the path ahead wouldn't be easy. But for the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope, knowing that he and Devorgill had finally found each other amidst the chaos of their lives. But they kept their relationship secret. Only their closest friends knew. It seemed frivolous at such a time of war to speak of love, it felt selfish.

A few day cycles later, the day turned to night again and once more Tethra was watching from the walls. Uthecar was with him, watching the darkness intently.

“Your sister needs you to focus on saving this country. She cannot see you fighting with your brothers, it will make her weaker with worry.”

“She worries too much, Tethra,” Uthecar replied. “We will sort it out eventually. We have already promised her we will stop the fighting. Beside we have a common enemy now.”

“Speaking of that, look!” he pointed to a speck of light that appeared on the edge of the faint outline of hills. “A torch,” exclaimed Tethra. Then another speck of light appeared. Then another, till the whole line of hills had an outline of light. “They are here,” said Uthecar, then loudly, “sound the alarm!”

Bugles sounded out across the city and lights appeared in every house. Soldiers streamed out, hurriedly dressing and strapping on their weapons.

“They will attack immediately,” said Tethra, “while their armies have momentum.”

Preparation had been made. Every man, woman and child had a job to do, and Tethra knew they would do it perfectly.

The torches stayed in a line, but Tethra knew they were coming fast under cover of darkness. Then with a roar, in a line as long as the wall and as thick as a hundred men, they ran at the wall.

The attackers were led by giants, massive brutes called the Emim, but yet unknown to Tethra, so all the more terrifying. These giants had long ladders which they placed quickly up against the wall, wide enough for three men and just long enough to step off the top and over the wall of Enna Aignech. Swarms of black-clothed men with glowing eyes came up the ladders and arrived at the top of the wall.

Then all Sennol Uathach broke loose in Tethra’s vicinity. Standing alongside Devorgill, Fiall, Caer Omaith and Uthecar, they stood their ground. Skilfully driving back each attacker as they arrived at the top. Tethra glimpsed along the wall that it was the same the entire length. Enemy after enemy fell backwards, driven back by the defenders’ flashing blades.

Working together they formed an impenetrable wall into the city. Those attackers that did get through were stopped by the arrows of the snipers that waited on the rooftops. For three full hours they fought. Some ladders were successfully pushed back into the crowds of men waiting a chance to get into the city. Small openings in the walls held long poles with u-shaped hooks, which pushed the ladders away and over. Again and again, more ladders were put up by the giants.

Tethra looked over the edge during a lull in their fighting because a ladder had been sent crashing to the ground. A line of giants each side of a giant tree log were running full pelt toward the gate of the city.

“The gate, the gate,” he shouted, running down the stairs followed by Devorgill and Fiall. “To me, they are trying to breach the gate.”

When he reached the gate, the giants got there too and the enormous log smashed against the gate, splintering the beam that held it closed. Then the giants’ bodies hit the gate, smashing into it, forcing it to swing open.

Then just as planned in case of this happening, Fernmaige and Dubthach charged the gate with the city’s horsemen, killing the giants. Then driving forward, they pushed out of the gate and into the middle of the enemy. Tethra, Devorgill, Caer Omaith and Fiall, plus one hundred men, charged out behind them. To the surprise of the enemy, they mounted an amazing charge and crushed all that was in their path. The enemy, shocked at the speed and ferocity of the attack, fell back and began to run. Caer Omaith jumped atop a horse that has lost its rider, her sword flashing, her white hair flowing out behind her.