The Siege of Kaladia

Sir Hawke pushed open the hatch and pulled himself up. He immediately thanked his ears for the fading hearing that came with old age. The deafening sound of war erupted around him.

They were in a small building where they stored much of their emergency rations. Already he could see people filing inside, carrying their belongings. 

They would so quickly abandon their homes?

Kneeling down, he grabbed Elond's arm, pulling his son up from the tunnel. 

"Let's go. We're going to the top of the walls. Once we get up there, keep your head down. I won't see my son struck down by a stray arrow."

Elond nodded obediently and knelt to help the other three from the hatch.

Sir Hawke took in his surroundings. Smoke filled the air, blotting out what had been a beautiful blue sky. 

Smoke meant fire, which meant gray powder. Where had Styte procured such a rare substance? 

He had seen the use of gray powder over his long years of life. It burned easily and effectively, lasting much longer than wood. And it burned so hot, its flames turned blue. 

And he'd seen people caught in those flames. Their hair burned away immediately, and their skin seemed to melt off their bones. 

Sir Hawke shivered at the thought, even though he was far from being cold. Hopefully, they've used it all up by now. 

Already, hundreds of plans were coursing through his brain. Attacks and counterattacks. Diversions and tactics. While the odds weren't looking good for Kaladia, he would make sure they put up a worthy fight. 

Valia, Alon, and Guron emerged from the tunnel and Elond kicked the door closed. 

Without a word, Sir Hawke set off, hoping they would follow behind him. 

Conveniently, the hatch wasn't far from the front. In a few minutes, he would have a good idea of how bad their situation truly was. 

Groups of people rushed past them, carrying belongings.

One face stood out to him in the approaching crowd. It would always stand out to him, in a familiar way. A face that he would never forget as long as he lived.

Stiela. 

Hawke's wife. 

Most knights were frowned upon for settling down with a single woman. He didn't care about that. 

When he'd first met her forty years prior, he'd instantly fallen in love. 

Though he'd said nothing. 

Instead, they had become the closest of friends. She was the one he went to after a long battle. She was the one he drank with at night. She was the one he shared his life with. 

Eventually, twenty years later, he hadn't been able to resist his feelings, finally telling Stiela the truth. They were wed a day later and had stayed together since.

Her eyes locked onto his, and the sounds of battle faded into the background. 

The crowd pushed around Hawke, some giving him frustrated glances, though he barely gave them any notice. 

Stiela stopped in front of him. In her hands she held a large basket of fruits and vegetables from their garden. "I…I'll have dinner ready a bit…late tonight."

Hawke nodded, placing a gloved hand lightly on her face. He smiled through the pain he felt in his heart. "Of course. No rush, my love. I may return slightly late as well."

She nodded and turned to Elond, wrapping him in a tight hug. "Your first battle…stay with your father. Do what he says, no matter what."

Elond nodded. "I will, mother."

Without even the slightest glance at Hawke's new raider companions, Stiela set off toward their home.

Hawke watched her walk for a moment, yearning for just one more moment with her.

Later, Sir Hawke thought despondently. Leadership comes first.

Sir Hawke began the climb up the wall, ignoring the pain in his knees. He'd received hundreds of wounds during battles and always managed to survive. The pain of old age was nothing in comparison. 

He reached the top of the wall and looked out at the battlefield. Hundreds of enemy soldiers were at the walls, climbing ladders to reach the top. Some had made it and now fought with some of Sir Hawke's men. 

Thousands of soldiers had yet to reach the walls, still marching in a massive block. 

He had hoped the Terrocerous attack would have slowed them down or even forced a small retreat or regroup, but it looked to have done only minimal damage. Even if their stampede had killed a thousand soldiers, it hadn't made much of a difference. 

In the sea of movement, something caught his eye. It was a wooden structure, moving at a quick pace through the army. They were heading straight for the wall. 

A battering ram. 

It looked like a small house with a triangular roof, yet most of the walls were open and four wheels helped the structure to move swiftly. Jutting out from one of the openings was a massive cylinder of metal.

Sir Hawke frowned. Their walls were strong, nearly ten feet of stone thick. 

No, they would head for the gate. That was the only weakness Kaladia had. 

"FOLLOW ME!" He screamed, taking off down the wall. A barrage of arrows flew at them from overhead. Sir Hawke kept an arm protectively over his head as they rained down around him. 

He glanced back. Elond was still following behind, unharmed. 

"WE NEED MEN AT THE GATE! NOW!"

Some soldiers would need to stay atop the wall, but right now the gate was more important. If that battering ram broke through, Styte's men would pour in like a flood.

"Incoming!" Shouted a soldier as Sir Hawke passed him. 

For a moment, the sun disappeared. No, something was blocking it.

Sir Hawke looked up to the sky in awe.

The projectile grew larger as it drew closer.

Where would it hit?

Trust your gut, he told himself. 

"TAKE COVER!" 

Without another moment to think, he spun around and tackled his son backward. 

The wall shook beneath him like an earthquake. 

After a moment, when everything had stabilized, Sir Hawke got back to his feet. The place they'd been standing just a moment before was now a hole nearly eight feet deep. Lodged in the wall was a massive ball of stone.

Trebuchets, Sir Hawke realized. And so, the next phase of the siege begins. They'll try to loosen defenses on our walls with projectiles. While my soldiers are still disorientated, they'll use ladders again to climb the walls.

"Get some archers over here! Tar buckets too!" He commanded. "This will be their first opening! Don't let them in!"

He turned and helped Elond to his feet. 

"Th-thank you, General," his son said.

"We need to keep moving," Sir Hawke said. He paused. "Where…where did they go?"

Elond looked behind him. "The other three?"

Sir Hawke frowned. "I thought they'd stay with me. Whatever, let's move on. They can fight for themselves, just as we can."

They moved toward where the projectile had crushed the wall.

"How are we getting across?" Elond asked uncertainly.

Sir Hawke sighed. "I suppose it'll save us time if we just jump."

So they did. The gap wasn't massive, but the landing still sent a jolt through his old legs. Elond on the other hand made it over with ease.

No matter the pain, they had no time to rest. Keeping his head low, Sir Hawke raced along the wall.

Arrows still rained from the sky every minute or so. A couple hit him and Elond, bouncing off their armor harmlessly.

Finally, they reached a ladder that descended back to the ground, where the gate still stood. 

"SOLDIERS!" Sir Hawke screamed to get the surrounding men's attention. "The enemy nears our gate! Their battering ram will break it down unless we stop it."

"How do we do that?" Someone called out.

He smiled. "We need to dismantle it."

The soldiers were silent, and the sounds of battle grew louder. 

"Good men, I need volunteers. Who would venture over the wall with me? Help put the battering ram to a stop?"

No one responded, all looking uneasy.

"I will," Elond said, and Sir Hawke sighed. 

"I wasn't asking you," he said quietly. Then he turned back to the soldiers. They stared at him with empty, soulless faces. 

Why should they trust me if I won't let my own son come with me? They all think they'll die if they volunteer. 

"Out of all of you, and only one will join me? Once we go beyond the wall, there's no telling which of you will die. That is the truth. But if you stay here and do nothing, this gate will certainly fall! And you'll be forced to fight anyway. And why do we fight? I know why I do. My wife lives here. If this army gets in, we all know what they would do to her! Your loved ones will be enslaved, murdered, raped, and tortured, as is customary for men like them!"

Multiple soldiers began stepping forward. 

Sir Hawke didn't even have time to count. There were enough. 

"Follow me, brave ones. Our target is the battering ram. Once it is destroyed, we retreat back within the walls. Understood?"

The group roared in response.

General Hawke climbed the ladder and moved to stand just above the gate. "We'll need ladders. Archers, we'll need cover from up here. Try not to shoot us out there."

"Yes sir!"

A group of archers knocked arrows in their bows, lining up at the front of the wall.

He looked at Elond, who stood at his shoulder. "Stay by my side. Remember."

Elond nodded. "Always."

General Hawke turned his focus to the approaching battering ram, still rolling along toward the gate at a steady pace. Hundreds of soldiers had gathered around it protectively. 

He had thought moving to Kaladia would bring him some peace. A place for him to reach a natural end to his long life. It seemed that would never be the case. 

War always found him, no matter where he hid.

Here we go. My descent back into the madness.