Journey to the North (On Hold)

Chapter 4 Orphans and Swords

Chapter 4 Orphans and Swords

"Stay here where you are! Do not leave this place, no matter what you see or hear!" Anibal warned both his terrified mother and sister that cried sitting on the bench they had been sleeping a few minutes ago.

"No, please, hijo mío, don't go! I beg you Anibal, stay here with us!" Doña Anastacia implored in sobs.

"There is no use for me if I stay in here. Surely I'll be handier outside with the rest of the men and soldiers."Anibal fastened his belt and slid the two gilded daggers inside their cases. They were preciously carved and a valuable item he bought in Constantinople, but they were the only weapon he had, and they proved to be lethal when he killed that bastard Moor outside his dwelling.

"I'll go with you, son. There will be more wounded arriving pretty soon." Don Gerardo grabbed the leather bag containing his medical instruments and bandages. Anibal and his father kissed both Amelia and Doña Anastacia and scampered through the church passing amongst the cluttered refugees, most of them children and women that refused to leave the sacred place.

Anibal didn't believe what his eyes witnessed once he first stepped out of the holy precinct. There was great chaos in the outsides of the Cathedral. A stampede of villagers came all bawling and irrupted in the front patio of the Cathedral. The anguish and despair reflected on their visages was indescribable. It was the ghastly face of death... Death that took the form of the Moor soldiers. Those who were lucky were the ones that made it through the steep narrow street to get to the top of the mound where La Seu Vella rested. It was not Sunday service; they were escaping from the pandemonium unleashed in the city of Lerida.

Most of the villagers were injured people that once arrived to the outer atrium, they fell on the cobblestoned floor gasping for air and throbbing. They waited hopeless for a Samaritan to give them some attention. Entire families and loners appeared frightened in the middle of the night, the best time to attack a city for the enemy and the worst for those under siege.

"I'll go to revise those injured in that corner. You can go and help the children and widows to find a place." Don Gerardo told his son and walked away towards a group of wounded men placed in a cart.

Anibal took a deep breath and stared to the horizon. His gaze went above the heads of the pitiful multitude and got lost where grayish smoke columns elevated into the starry night. The sounds of the ity were terrifying. Anibal walked spell bounded by the mortuary chants of the doomed, those who where perishing under the blade strike. The scholar stood by the walls where he had a perfect view of Lerida. He could see the whole city from above... Anibal was the only one standing there, like a morbid sentinel witnessing Lerida's fall. The rest of the people around him just wanted to avoid what he craved to see.

Dark figures were moving between the city's streets, thumping with every step that echoed on the city walls. Hundreds of torches flickered here and there illuminating the path of a Spaniard soldier of the damned way of a Benimerime warrior. At some point they will collide and they will fight. Only one will result victorious.

Dozens of Spanish legionnaires posted in front of the duke's manor and some others around the plaza to protect the heart of the city. Those who dwelled around the town square were luckier than those who lived in the city outskirts. Unfortunately, the latter had already lost their homes and most of them had died.

Horses galloped throughout the city making a thundering sound as they march throughout La Ciudadela. It was a synchronized stumping of men and beasts and it was painful to hear... terrifying to imagine what was going down the heart of Lerida.