Tales of TanCred; The Satjon Invasion (Part VI)
"General Jhojan and Captain Furtius met within the WAR tent. Jhojan had a fresh cut on the left side of his faces, it stared at his ear and finished at his nose. It bled slowly and steadily, but was not deep by no means. His armor was dirty, chunks were missing, and it was stained red. He was standing over a table, moving pieces on a table. It took a moment for the captain to enter the tent, he looked about the battlefield.
The fields laid strewn with the dead, the wailing dead gave the Roay a new hallowed atmosphere, and in the midst of that Furtius was thinking about their combined men being in no shape today for a counter attack. He took another look at the Capitol, the smoke plumes rising from some of the city districts in the northern and southern regions. He again looked to the palace, then turned to enter the tent.
'My scouts tell me the Capitol city is lost, but the royal castle remains in Fraunki hands.' Captain Furtius said, walking to the maps in which the general was pouring over. The numbers had evened out according to the pieces places by Jhojan, which was a hopeful sight. Jhojan turned to see his friend and smiled.
'Yes, that is what I have heard also. I fear we must rest out troops, the fighting was fierce and has many fatigued. Have you also heard the news of the eastern gates?'
The Next Move
The storyteller, knowing the listeners in the room held an over-anticipation of the next part, called for a few minutes to get some air. For he had been telling this story for what had to be hours now. He stepped outside into the cool night air, cricket orchestras playing woeful tunes. That night the moon shined bright, which illuminated the quaint rural village the storyteller found himself at. A special little place with good hearty people and a beautiful landscape. He remembered joining up with Captain Furtius, the look of pride he received as a young man. A story he told only the most special of people, usually a pretty young girl he entertained with stories until his old bones could fall asleep. Their company gave him reason to rise each morning, these village girls were as sweet as beautiful, a rare combination.
He stepped outside into the cool night air and heard cricket orchestras playing woeful tunes. That night, the moon shined bright, which illuminated the quaint rural village the storyteller found himself at. A special little place with good hearty people and a beautiful landscape. He remembered joining up with Captain Furtius, the look of pride he received as a young man. A story he told only the most special of people, usually a pretty young girl he entertained with stories until his old bones could fall asleep at night. Their bed side company gave him reason to rise each morning, these village girls were as sweet as beautiful, a rare combination.
He turned away from the night and entered the hall, where the energy was still very high and a level of anxious anticipation filled the vibes. The storyteller slyly dropped a few slow release black smoke bombs into the main fire and popped a few yellow-orange colored smoke bombs to set the stage. "The fires had torched most of the city by the time the Satjons enclosed the palace, thousands filled the main square many holding torches. The castle gates had been raised and the poisonous fish, eels, and other defense measures were released into the moat. There was not much that could be done to penetrate the palace walls. Everything looked secure for a stalemate siege, the palace had plenty of provisions to withstand months of siege, one of the main reasons the Satjons picked the Fraunki Capitol as a target. The food.
The King sat upon the throne with his family, city commanders sat in the aisle in front of the royal chairs. 'We have to be patient, from what I can tell from the telescopes in the highest palace towers.' a city commander was reporting to Jovinous, 'The Tancred have repelled the enemy attack, giving the main camp of the Satjons purpose to move their camp further south away from the Roay fields. I also report they have taken heavy losses, so have the men from Riverbridge. It may take a day or two for them to be ready for any sort of counter measure against the Satjons inside the walls.'
King Jovinous interrupted, 'And what of the city walls, what is their status? What happened to my rider?' He looked upset, his brows were furrowed in thought. A fright, if one were to look him straight in the eyes.
'Sir,' the city commander continued, being careful with his words, 'The eastern gates are blocked by the towers of Mordon, it cannot be confirmed who holds that gate. As for the north, west, and southern gates, we confirm they are in Satjon hands. Infantry is spilling in from all those sides.' the city commander finished with finality. Then stepped back awaiting and receiving a dismissal.
"They got in!"
Timed perfectly, the sly move earlier paid off as the loud bangs caught many to jump. Even a few of the younger listeners screamed, setting the mood for the next part.
"The renewal of booms against the castle walls caused concern amongst those in the palace, a soldier burst through the huge double doors screaming, "They got in! My King, they got in!'