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by Bryan Howard Kile looked around the battlefield and at all the dead bodies. People moaned and cried. He looked down and saw several scratches, scrapes, and cuts. He leaned on his sword to keep from falling over. He saw Melwyn approaching him. Kile tried to straighten up, but it was too painful, so he just kept leaning on the sword. Melwyn looked ragged, he had a large gash on cheek and his breastplate was beaten and battered and he walked with a limp. "Kile, glad to see you still live." Melwyn said in gravelly voice. "So am I." Kile replied, trying to be flip, but the wince of pain in his side ruined the effect. "So, you are not invincible after all. Glad to see it. Now then help me round up the survivors, they'll be back soon enough." Melwyn said as he began to search the bodies for signs of life. Kile painfully began doing the same. He stepped over friends with missing limbs, people with missing heads, and heads without bodies. He found a few survivors and after a few hours searching there was around thirty of the original one hundred-man band. This was a costly battle and it made Kile nervous. He had seen many battles before. He had been in Cairhien at the time of the second Aiel war and afterward he had gone after the Aes Sedia who had kidnapped the Dragon. The Lord Dragon was different after that. But Kile was going to serve the Lord Dragon no matter what. But then came time to fight those strangers from across the ocean. Those Seanchan. It was that battle that had brought him here, back home. It was this battle that Kile discovered that the Lord Dragon was insane. And he did not want to be anywhere near a crazy man with the powers the Dragon possessed. So he requested to be released from his duty so he could go home. Everyone here thought he was invincible since he had survived some very tough battles, but Kile knew otherwise. He was just lucky, nothing more. Melwyn came up to him, breaking his train of thought. "Thirty men, out of one hundred, we only have thirty. And those bloody flaming Aiel are still out there." Melwyn stated, his voice betraying the anxiety he felt. There wasn't much to say so Kile just nodded in agreement. "Gervis, gather up the men and head back to town." Melwyn ordered. "But the dead..." "Aren't going anywhere, there's no telling when those Aiel will be back. I don't want to be caught here in the dark when they do." One young man, Tellin was his name, at least Kile thought that was his name, spoke up. "But we beat them, they retreated." "No, boy. We did not beat them, we merely slowed them down. There's more of our dead than theirs. We need to get back to the village. Now move." The last of the defenders formed up into a column and began the march home. Melwyn and Kile brought up the rear. They walked in silence, each thinking of the battle to come. These Aiel had been raiding the villages around them. Most of the surrounding villages had united and formed the rag tag band that had opposed them today. But now that band was defeated and only thirty able men stood between the Aiel and death. Kile had seen what these Aiel did. They killed the men and took the women captive, and the burned the villages. These Aiel were nothing like the ones serving the Lord Dragon, though even those gave him the creeps. He had tried to explain that these were renegade Aiel, but no one really cared and after today's fight he was inclined to agree. The Aiel had come over the Dragonwall and people were frightened. It all started when the Dragon proclaimed himself in Tear. That's when the Aiel had first been seen over the wall since the first Aiel war some twenty years ago. But now the Aiel were spilt, some followed the Dragon and the others followed their own path. Somehow these other Aiel had split up into many smaller groups and were scattered all over the land. It was hard to determine exactly how many Aiel they were fighting here. Some said fifty, others said two hundred, and either way there was not much hope of surviving the next raid. The only reason they were able to drive them away today was because they caught them by surprise. That wouldn't happen again. The sun had almost set by the time they reached the barricade the women and the old men had made. It might hold for a few minutes, and Kile guessed a few extra minutes of life was good. Women looked for husbands and sons. The ones that found them ran and hugged them, the ones that didn't cried and screamed and there was no one to comfort them. Kile went with Melwyn to the town's only inn and they sat down in the empty common room. After a few moments of silence, Melwyn looked into Kile's eyes. "We are doomed." Kile was not surprised by the admission, he knew it was true. They had sent a rider out to get help; that was a three days ago. Help would not come in time, if it came at all. "I know, but we still must fight. We cannot just give up." Kile said, surprised at the intensity behind his words. "Aye, that maybe, but I just wanted to make sure you understood." "Yes, I understood the moment the battle started today. So are we going to tell the others?" "What do you think?" Melwyn asked, and he seemed to really want his opinion. "I think they deserve to know what lies ahead." Kile replied. At least he knew he would want to know if they were facing death. He wished someone had told him the Dragon was insane. He shivered at the memory of the lightning falling. Killing friend and foe alike. A bolt struck a few feet from him, he still remember the smell of burned air. Someone should have told them. "Aye, that's the answer I wanted to hear. Now go get some sleep, I'll get the men settled and a watch started." Melwyn stated, getting up and walking out of the inn. Kile was too tired to argue, so he walked up the stairs and went into the first room he found. He kicked his boots off, loosened his sword belt, letting his it and his sword drop to the ground and fell onto the bed still clothed. Even though he was bone tired he could not fall asleep. He found himself thinking of his past. He guessed facing death did that to a man. Melwyn had taken him in when his parents had been killed. His parents had been peddlers, and had visited this town often. Kile didn't know where they were really from, no one did. Everyone said his parents really had no accent. Kile didn't remember much of his parents, just that they loved him. He also remembered the sound the wagon made as it rolled down the path. Melwyn had found him clutched in his mother's arms. Raiders had killed them and the wagon had been burned. Melwyn and his wife had taken Kile in as a son; Kile had only been four years old at the time. And now it was being taken away again. The Wheel was not fair, these people did not deserve this. It was with that thought that he fell asleep. He dreamed of flying, he dreamed this dream often. He flew with the birds, from the village west toward Ghealdan. With a flash he was over an encampment of soldiers flying the Manatheren banner then another flash he flying onward toward Cairhien. He was always attracted to Cairhien, he wondered if this was his parents home. He had tried finding someone who might have know his parents while he was there, but he could not find anyone that recognized their names or their descriptions. Of course he was born before the first Aiel war, and so finding someone that knew them would have been very difficult. Once he flew over Cairhien, he turned north to Tar Valon. He flew faster and faster, wind was whipping in his face and the ground below moved too fast for his eye to keep up. The White Tower loomed before him, he couldn't avoid it, and he was going too fast to stop or fly out of the way. He was about to hit. He was shaking so hard, his body was jerking in spasms. He sat straight up in bed, Melwyn had a hand on his shoulder. Kile was drenched in sweat and he was still shaking from the dream. "Kile, are you all right." Melwyn had worry in his voice. Kile took a deep breath to steady his nerves, and answered, "I'll be fine. What's going on?" "It's your turn at the barricade," he replied removing his hand from his shoulder. "All right," Kile replied, getting out of bed. Melwyn left the room, as he put his boots on, strapped on his sword belt, wiped the sleep from his eyes and went downstairs. It was cold outside, which was good. He thought summer was never going to end. Syd was a man with a wife and child, he was a few years older than Kile, but they had been friends growing up. Kile raised his hand in greeting, and Syd replied in kind. "I'm here to relieve you," Kile stated, his voice still thick with sleep. "Finally, I thought I would never get any sleep. Good night, Kile." Syd replied, walking off toward his home. Kile noticed that he walked with a limp and felt sad. If by some chance they did survive this crisis, many would have lasting wounds that would be with them the rest of their lives. The moon was full and on its way down into the horizon. Off in the distance a wolf howled. A cold breeze blew from the north. He walked up down the barricade to keep warm. The village was mostly quiet, yet every now and then he heard sobbing. Yes, he thought, these wounds would be with them a long time if they managed to survive this. His watch was uneventful, and after a couple hours, Tomas came and relieved him. By this time, the sun was just beginning to rise and Kile was actually hungry. So he walked back to the inn. There were several people in there already. Mistress Maven was serving sweet cakes and water for breakfast, she smiled at him as he entered. He smiled back and went over to her. She hugged him tightly and led him to a table near the kitchen. Mistress Maven had taken to mothering him after Melwyn's wife had died several years ago. She had been a good ear, and would listen to his problems, and only offered her opinion if he asked for it. After he sat down she brought him a couple sweet cakes and a mug of spiced cider. She always did try and spoil him, no matter how old he was. Normally it bothered him, but not now, with death so near. The room was quiet, people whispered or just sat silent. Kile listened to the quiet and thought about his dream as he ate. He had a similar dream several times before. In each dream he was flying and in each dream he had nearly crashed into the White Tower. He wasn't much on omens, but he had always felt this dream meant something. He had heard that the Aiel could interpret dreams, but had never found anyone who knew anything for sure. Right now he wished he could find one those dreamers now. He sat there thinking for close to an hour, more and more people came in, a few tried to make small talk, but most everyone sat in silence. Soon, the common room was filled with most of the villagers. Melwyn entered from the kitchen and looked around. Melwyn looked extremely tired. His hair was not combed, his wounds had been tended and he had changed into fresh clothes, but in his eyes was weariness, and he still limped when he walked. He looked around the room once and then began speaking. "We have fought well, but I fear it may not be enough. Though we beat them back, these Aiel will be back. We are too few and ill equipped to handle this. "Those that have died, have died bravely and we will continue to fight. But I just want you to know that it doesn't look good. These Aiel are trained killers, and we've barely slowed them down. This next fight will decide whether we live or die. "We will do everything we can to live, we will fight to the last man. We will make the Aiel earn this victory. I just wanted you to be aware. That's all." With that he turned around and went back to the kitchen. Kile wanted to follow him and tell him he did the right thing, but he knew Melwyn needed to be alone now. Everyone had to face death their own way. He got up and went outside, he had to shield his eyes from the sun. The air was cold and a wind blew from the north. He decided to walk around the village. It was in a rocky valley and the only easy access point was the road that ran down the middle of town. They had barricades on both ends. The smith was quiet, since the towns only blacksmith had been killed one of the raids. He was nearing the barricade he was posted at last night when he heard the alarm sound. He spun around and saw at least fifty Aiel running toward the southern barricade. He drew his sword and charged that direction. Men came out of their homes, from the inn, from all over the village. Kile took a rough count, there were about thirty of them. Thirty farmers and shepherds against fifty trained Aiel, not good odds. The first of the Aiel reached the barricade and the archers on the roofs of the houses took down a few. Kile saw rocks being thrown, he glanced behind him to see the women throwing rocks over the wooden barricade. At least they were willing to fight. It didn't take long for the Aiel to scramble over the barricade, some were killed as they came over, but more came. Soon the barricade torn down, the sound of battle filled his ears. Sword on spear, the grunt of blows being landed. The alarm sounded again. Kile managed a glance back and saw twenty more Aiel scrambling over the unguarded barricade behind them. Well, this was it, Kile thought, I'm going to die here. He turned his focus completely on the Aiel in front of him. He was veiled and ready to dance, as he remembered the Aiel liked to call it. He lunged with his sword, she stepped out the way. He sidestepped a swing and brought down his sword on the Aiel's arm. The Aiel screamed, it was a woman. He knew Aiel women fought alongside their men, but he had never faced one before, and now he had killed one. He didn't have time to dwell on it though, as soon as she fell, another Aiel took her place. He fought and fought each time an Aiel would fall, another would take his place. He saw someone fall beside him, he glanced down to see if he knew him. He saw Melwyn's body sprawled on the ground, blood pouring out his neck. A veiled Aiel stood over the body. Thoughts flooded his mind. Memories of growing up in Melwyn's home, of being taught the art sword play in behind his house. This was his father in all that mattered and now he was dead. Rage filled him, he focused that rage into a ball of hate, and he pushed the feelings down, until he felt nothing. He took a step toward the Aiel and raised his sword. The Aiel screamed and then burst into flames. Everywhere he looked an Aiel would catch fire. One Aiel actually exploded. During this whole time, he felt no emotion, then suddenly he felt pain. He turned around and saw an Aiel remove a spear from his back. He stumbled to his knees, he tried to get up but his legs wouldn't respond. He looked around and saw Aiel running away. The villagers were looking at him funny. Finally someone approached him. It took him a moment to realize it was Syd. He was covered in blood and had several large gashes on his chest. When he got in front of him, he reached out his hand. Kile took it and stood up. What had he done? Had he truly channeled? Surely it he wasn't responsible for all of these burned Aiel, but who else could it have been. He remembered how he felt when he was watching the Aiel burn. He had felt no emotion, just satisfied. Suddenly he felt very weak, and almost fell down again, but Syd caught him. He began helping him walk. Kile wasn't paying attention to where he was being led, he was wondering what he was to do next. He could touch the One Power and he was a man. He was doomed to go mad, if he survived long enough for that. He really only had one choice, go to the Black Tower. It wasn't fair, he had wanted to just come home and work on the farm, maybe travel once in a while. It seemed the Wheel had other purposes for him. He hated the Wheel. Melwyn needed him. Melwyn, he was dead. He remembered seeing him, bloody and an Aiel standing over the body. Tears came, Syd stumbled and they both fell to the ground. Kile looked at Kile's face, he looked very sad. Syd was looking at his own hands. The hands were covered in blood. "Syd, where is your wife," he asked, his voice was thick and his tongue didn't want to work. "I couldn't save her. I tried to stop them, but they wouldn't stop." Syd's voice trailed off at the end. Kile's problems seemed to shrink when he heard that. Kile reached out a hand to him, Syd pulled back at first, but then he looked Kile in the eye and took his hand. Syd stood and helped Kile back up, which was painful. Kile's back felt like it was on fire and each stepped was pain. He endured it though and finally made it to the inn. Mistress Maven met them at the door and ushered them upstairs, which was yet another painful ordeal. Once in the room, they stripped off his shirt and helped him onto the bed. Kile lay on his side and let them clean his wound. Somehow he fell asleep during the event. He drifted off knowing he had to get to the Black Tower. He dreamed of flying. The wind on his face and he looked and saw Andor in the distance. He would go there and he would become an Asha'man. It would be a long journey, but he knew now that he had to make it. Return to the main page! |
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