Divided Nation

Rain Of Arrows

The rain started soon after we had departed. It started off as a light drizzle, then soon grow into a full fledged pouring. The trees were helping to stop the rain, but it really didn't matter at this point. The ground had turned muddy and our forces were slipping, hindering our progress.

     We still galloped on at full speed, since we knew that every minute mattered. Right now, the armies of the Regime would be retreating back to the Garrisons after learning that they were going to be encircled. 

     Bradil and Ikhad had apparently leading that attacks on the Sands. Bradil was commander of the fourth garrison and Ikhad was commander of the fifth. I don't know too much about them, since they were promoted to commanders after my father was assassinated, but there were a couple times when our former castle was attacked by fourth or fifth garrison troops.

     From what I had heard, Bradil was a huge towering warrior with enormous strength. Ikhad was a dark mage, but I found that hard to believe, since the Guardians protected their secrets of magic so closely.

     "What's going on?" Harold said, as our horses came to a stop.

      "Sorry sir," A soldier said, trotting down the column, "We found a few Regime soldiers that were at the side of the road, you might want to check them out."

      Frowning, Harold grabbed his reins and followed the soldier further down the road, waving at me to follow as well. We rode all the way to the front of the army where there was a loose circle of spears around 3 soldiers that were drenched in rain, with Regime banners.

     "Who are you guys?" Harold asked, dismounting and drawing his sword, "Scouts?"

      "N-no," One of the soldiers said, taking off his helmet with trembling hands, "We're Regime soldiers, that's true, but..."

      "Spit it out buddy," Harold said,  "I don't have much time."

      "It's just that," Another one said, "The conditions in the army were so terrible that we decided to run away. We were going to die anyway, if we ran, we might have had a slight chance at survival."

      "All right," Harold said, apparently satisfied with the answer, "If you are deserters of the army, you should know the positions of the retreating armies, shouldn't you?"

     "Of course, of course," The middle one said, nodding his head so hard I was afraid it might fall off, "Get me a map and let me show you."

      As Harold went to fetch a map, I examined the three people. The left one was tall, muscular but had a helmet on. He hadn't spoken yet. The other two were middle-sized and had scrawny bodies.  It got extremely awkward after Harold left. I noticed that the armor they were wearing was quite clean which was odd considering the rain and muddy ground.

     "Alright, work your magic buddy," Harold said, handing them the map. Everyone huddled around closer to get a better look.    

     "Ok," The soldier said, dragging his wet finger across the map, "So we are here."

     He pointed at a forrest that was close to the Outpost. "The enemy army is here," He responded, pointing at a spot a bit further away "Ikhad had stayed behind after conquering the sands. He has the majority of the army with him. A force led by Bradil is trying to escape back to the Garrisons. This is the force that we escaped from."

     I glanced at Harold as he listened to them talk. He looked like he was deep in thought, then stood up.

     "Thank you," He said, "You've been very helpful, Bradil."