Unkarra Gate (1st draft)

Chapter 10.3

The group of soldiers trudged through the dark in file, led by a tireless Ronclay. Their complaints about travelling through the night had been aired; none of them were brave enough to bring up the subject again. They were sure it would mean their death.

They had neither lantern nor torch to help them, and so they stumbled and tripped along. It was the third night into the eastern wild lands, into which they had ventured after the impromptu raid on house Dasben's outpost. The previous night, one of them had hobbled his ankle when he stumbled. They had moved on without him; Ronclay did not hesitate for a moment. "That's his problem," he had said of leaving him behind, since he was unable to keep up with them.

It was a couple hours later that they all heard the screams and sounds echoing through the night. Something had fallen upon the abandoned soldier, and none of the others cared to speculate what that something had been.

The wildlands filled the pages of stories and tall tales. Whenever a beast or monster should appear in such stories, it would undoubtedly be coming from the wildlands. Ages ago all of South Geberra had been wildlands, the tales told.

Tomgrel followed in the line, held captive by both his fear of the man leading them, and of the unknown lurking in the dark wildland woods. He was not sure caused him more fear, but the past few days fear had dominated his mind like a sickness. Yet he dare not fall too far behind Ronclay, as despite how much Ronclay scared him, staying close to him felt like the safest option.

The noises they had heard accompanying the abandoned soldier's death cries had been on the whole troops mind ever since. They trudged along in near silence, each of them straining to hear what they feared could be their doom.

They traveled close enough to a mountain stream as they climbed upward in their pursuit, to have the sounds of water trick their ears in their paranoia. But finally, deep into the night, they heard the unmistakable growl of a beast of in the shadows.

They all heard it, but Vergrel, a massive man, oldest among them, and yet most frightened was the first to cry out. "They've found us! Close in! Come on!" He yelled to the stragglers.

In the darkness, it was nearly impossible to see all that was happening. Men moved through the woods with grunts, clatters and the rustle of underbrush. Something else moved in the night as well, much more quietly, but with sinister growls. The sounds came from all about. Tomgrel fled towards the sounds of the other soldiers.

Fear overcame him, but when he saw the Ronclay stood by him with his sword drawn, he felt as comforted as he possibly might, being hunted in the dark wildland woods by beasts.

Then the first screams came, from the rear of the line, where a few of them had fallen behind. The soldiers cried out names, but Tomgrel scarcely knew any of their names at any rate.

As the chaos in the dark continued, it soon became clear that the men stood in a circle, their weapons drawn against a pack of beasts that encircled them. Their eyes glinted in the darkness, as their shadowy forms moved only a few paces away from them.

"Well, then, let's have it!" Ronclay shouted at the shadows. He raised his sword, charging forward, breaking their circle. His sword glinted and elicited a whimper from the shadows. More shadows fell upon him, and at the same time curses and yells came from behind Tomgrel.

There were bodies pushing him, the growls of beasts, the grunts of men, and the flash of teeth coming from all sorts of directions. He gained his feet, crouching and struck out with his spear when he thought he had his chance, but he was not sure what happened. More movement, more screams. Something slammed into him, he fell.

The fighting continued, and and a huge furry body fell on him. It didn't move, and he struggled to squirm his way from under it. When he emerged, what he heard was heavy breathing all about, but no further fighting.

It was definitely Ronclay who began to laugh first, but soon almost all the other men joined in. Definitely more than one of them had just died; in the darkness it was difficult to see exactly who survived.

"They didn't like the taste of our steel, it seems, eh boys?" Ronclay boisterously joked. "Stamrin!" He added loudly, and it was repeated by the men, arms raised in victory.

They were back on the march within an hour, leaving their dead behind after sorting out the valuables.

When daybreak came, Tomgrel could finally see who remained part of their troop; they were down to five men besides himself and Ronclay. They only made it a short ways further during the day before Ronclay allowed the exhausted troop to rest.

He was given a dry morsel of food by one of the kinder soldiers, who had been looking out for him ever since he was absorbed into the troop. After that, he fell asleep quickly on the ground where he was.