Chapter 5 - Into the City of Dread

Chapter 5 – Into the City of Dread

 

The sentries were riding straight toward Gildor and Brethor, but did not see them until the companions were upon them. The riders drew their swords and leapt off their horses. Gildor was upon one in an instant, and a quick thrust to the heart finished the guard. The second guard breathed in sharply and pulled away from Brethor. He tried to remount the horse to warn the others, but the bow of Gildor sang twice and the guard fell dead.

 

The horses whinnied and screamed. Gildor swiftly went to them and removed bridle and saddle, spoke softly to them, and they quieted and galloped out of the land of dread. Gildor stowed the bodies in a nearby indention in a hill. For a second he worried about the blood of the guards but the ground had absorbed it like a thirsty desert animal at an oasis.

 

Now for the second part of the plan

 

“Ready?” Gildor asked. Brethor only nodded in reply. They donned the cloaks of the guards, mounted, and waited

 

….

 

When the change of the guard came, they took their spot in the processional leading into the gate. All was quiet and none looked up at the gates. Gildor noticed that even the guards who had little to fear from this city still shook as they passed under the gates and kept their heads bowed. He could hear the day guard riding out to their posts.

 

The guards dispersed once they went into the city, some went to the food providers, some to the barracks, others to other places. Gildor rode off to the edge of one wall and dismounted. He ran up the great stone steps formed by the barracks. Brethor followed silently behind.

 

Finally at the top step, he entered the courtyard of the castle. There were many guards, all in uniform. Some were guards they had been with in the change of the guard, sitting on benches or staring off into space.

 

They started for the castle door and were stopped by a guard.

 

“Whaddayou want?” he demanded gruffly.

 

“We are here to see his majesty Mordrith.” Brethor said quietly

 

“Identification?”

 

Sensing things were about to get very bad, he took out his knife and quickly stabbed the guard. Then, still holding the body, leaned the dead guard up against the wall. The man stared out with a vacant expression. No doubt someone would find him, but by that time they would be long gone. Inside the castle, they followed dark hallways. They were lined with black stones with smiling skulls every three meters. Dread crept upon Gildor, but quickly he thought of Selria and his heart abated. Suddenly Brethor stopped behind him. He sat down on the wall and started rocking back and forth like a madman. Gildor stooped down and grabbed his shoulders.

 

“Look at me.” He commanded. Brethor slowly looked into his eyes,

 

“You are a master swordsman of the city of Clementa. Your city master sent you to this castle to defeat Mordrith, yet you fall to dread. Think of something that brings you much hope so we can end this war and return home. Think of the men that would die fighting for their cities against this pitiless foe if we cower here. Think of the women and children that will be killed or forced into slavery. We must not give in!”

 

Something inside Brethor must have comprehended, for he got up and motioned to go onward, but he kept his head down and followed silently.

 

Suddenly Brethor began to sing

 

Down in the valley of shadow and death

Two great brave warriors entered

And slew down the great shadow that seemed to hold sway

And they were long remembered.

 

Brethor looked up and smiled. “I will not give in.”