The Last Days

by Lucas Henderson

"Why are you standing alone on this cold wall with a look of a defeat incrusted on to your face John", it was Brandon Stone, John's good friend and the son of the late Arthur Stone the Lord of Stone Keep, which just happened to be smoking ruins as of last year. When barbarians sacked the castle and killed Arthur and the rest of Brandon's family. Brandon barely escaped with his life.

"I was just trying to think of some plan that could improve our chances of survival on the morrow", I said.

"It's not the time for war strategies and planning", said Brandon

"Leave that for the morrow, instead come with me and join the New Year festivities", said Brandon.

"I think not Brandon my friend, I am not in the mood for a celebration, I wish to be alone....", I said.

"Suit yourself, but I for one know that I do not wish to spend the last days of my life defeated and hopeless", whispered Brandon as he turned on his heals and began to descend to the festivities below.

Now, as I go over that particular conversation in my head, I realize that Brandon had the right of it. If it had been my last days in this world I should have spent them differently. This, of course, never occurred to me at that particular moment. I had been too worried that everything I had ever known in life was about to be destroyed and me along with it.

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" cried one of the sentries on the wall, just before an arrow pierced his throat.

I woke with a start just in time to hear the gurgling noises made by the sentry nearby. I had fallen asleep leaning against the turret that rose above me.

I had just enough time to unsheathe my sword before the leading barbarian climbers reached the top of the wall.

As I fought the first wave of barbarians, I couldn't help thinking how stupid William had been to leave only enough sentries on the wall to cover the battlements, even an insane man should know that's not good idea. I remembered how I had argued with William, saying that we needed more sentries on the battlements especially in the turrets. However, William had ignored me saying that the moral of his troops was much more important and that the barbarians probably wouldn't even attack for another week. He might as well have executed his whole army.

I had known the barbarians would attack; I had researched there past battle strategies. Unlike, most people during this age, I had known that the northerners or barbarians weren't just brainless savages who threatened and killed by nature. I knew that all this nonsense of the barbarians being subhuman was just a clever plan created by the barbarians to insure that no one ever took them seriously. By not taking them seriously dozens and dozens of Lords and Kings had been overthrown. Almost half of the South had been taken over by barbarian rule but no one from the South would admit it.

You see my homeland is named Lonely Island; it's divided in two the North and the South. The North is the lawless land of the savage barbarians whilst the South is the Nobel Kingdom of Landsdown. For centuries upon centuries there have been numerous battles between the barbarians and the Landsdownians but the time from which my tale is derived, was the last days of the greatest and longest war between the two sides.

"John! Over here", it was Brandon. He had somehow fought his way up to the battlements, which was now swarming with barbarians.

I tried to get over to Brandon but the ferocity of the barbarian I was combating drove me back. The barbarians wore no armour, unlike my companions and I, so they had the advantage of speed. Plus they were extremely strong and could wield enormous weapons.

I was having trouble. The barbarian I was fighting had the largest great sword I had ever seen, I could barely take the weight of it and I was tiring fast. I was just about to give up and die when an arrow lodged itself in the barbarian's throat. The rest of the garrison had arrived from the courtyard below. It took but a moment to overthrow the barbarian climbers with just the weight of our now superior numbers. However, the barbarian horde had only sent maybe 500 from an army of around 10 thousand whilst the whole garrison of Midsummer Keep was around 2000. The surprise attack had severely weakened us. We now had an estimated 1500 men. Five hundred barbarians with the element of surprise on their side had killed their own number of the garrison plus probably a few more. Although few of the barbarians escaped alive, myself and most likely many more men trained in the arts of war considered this a highly successive raid.

"Brandon!" I yelled as I searched for my friend among the living and the dead.

My heart stopped when I recognized the face of Richard Mead one of my oldest friends, an arrow to the heart had killed him. As I searched the dead I began to realize how severely the army had been devastated. I couldn't force myself to believe how many friends and acquaintances I saw amongst the dead. It was the worst and the most unforgettable experience of my life. How could people do this to each other?

"Over here!" it was Brandon.

"Thank God! I thought you were as good as dead", I said

"Not I, it takes more then just one battle to kill me", said Brandon

"Although, chances are I'll be dead before the end of the war", concluded Brandon.

"I heard the northerners are preparing for a final blow, and this time there going to use all of their forces", I said.

"We're the walking dead John," said Brandon.

"Yes, but at least this time will be able to go out side by side my friend..."

"They're coming from the southeast, southwest and north, it's a pincer movement", I stated.

"They're taking there time, trying to decrease our morale by showing off there superior numbers", said the Captain of the guard Richard Hathaway.

"There's no point in that, our morale is as low as it can get", I frowned.

"Well they're barbarians what do you expect" concluded Richard.

"It's a decoy!" I cried after very little thought.

"That's impossible, why..." said Richard.

"Just think about it, it's one of the oldest tricks in the book, show off your numbers while a small group of skilled men attacks your enemy at its weakest point ", I insisted.

" I think you may have a point..."said Richard.

"You there, take a hundred men, split them up into two groups and send them on patrols up and down the east, south and west walls", said Richard to a passing knight.

"Report back to me immediately if you find anything".

"Look at them, THE ANIMALS!" cried one of the lookouts.

"How can they live with themselves, most of them have probably killed southern children without a second thought in their empty skulls" said another watchmen nearby.

"I wouldn't judge them so harshly, they've had their share of suffering at our hands as well", said Brandon, the captain of this particular watch having earned much honour because of his heroics in the latest battle.

"To many people judge others mostly by their appearances nowadays, many of our own men are just as bad but are better dressed so they aren't the ones being criticized", I said as I made my way up the narrow stairs to the wall.

"One of the patrols we sent up and down the east wall has just spotted a small war band making its way to the edge of the forest, it looks as though there planning on felling trees over the moat to act as a bridge", I said.

"What they plan on doing afterwards only God knows, trying another attempt at scaling the wall would be insane with all the men posted there", I continued.

"Better get ready men it looks like we're in for a long night", I said.

As I began to turn around to descend the steps to the now desolate courtyard I heard a piercing scream.

"It sounds as though the battle has begun, I'm off to give a report to Lord Walmsley", I said to Brandon.


My footsteps echoed throughout the empty Great Hall as I made my way to Lord Walmsley's private chambers. When I arrived the guards let me pass without a second glance. Lord Walmsley's chambers always reeked of foreign perfumes. It was a feeble attempt at hiding his own foul stench. You see Lord Walmsley was a leper and had been for the most part of his life. The only reason he was lord of Midsummer Keep was because he was the only son of the late Edward Walmsley, the great conqueror of old. I had always wanted to meet Edward but Edward died in a great battle against the barbarians long before I was born. However, William Walmsley had also been a great battle strategist not unlike his predecessor but the leprosy was starting to affect his mind in his old age and he began to be unpredictable and ecstatic when he wasn't sleeping near death. Although, at the present time he was in one of his unpredictable moods.

"Sir John Whittington, back to give me a report I see", said Walmsley.

"How is it that a brave man like yourself became my personal messenger when you should be leading an army to victory out there" he pointed in no particular direction from within his fully covered bed, except for the front that had been removed so he could talk face to ugly face with me. As it happens Lord Walmsley wasn't much to look at, at the time. His hairless head was also nose less and earless and his eyes were starting to lose their colour along with his battered skin.

"You appointed me as your private messenger four months ago milord", I said.

"What was I thinking, you're a much better general then messenger", he said.

"Hell! You come to give me a message without warning and only when there's something horrific about to happen", said Walmsley.

"Forgive me milord....", I whispered.

"Well enough of that, what dire news do you have for me today John", said Walmsley.

"The northerners are trying a diversionary tactic milord, they're flaunting there numbers in a pincer movement from the southeast, southwest and north whilst a small group of renegades is felling trees on the east wall to act as a bridge over the moat", I said.

"However we have no idea what's to come of this because they still have a 100 foot wall and 500 watchmen on the east battlements to overcome even after they've crossed the moat and climbed the wall", I finished.

"It sounds like a second diversion to me John, have you counted there numbers lately?"

"I'm willing to bet there's at least another hundred missing from the previous number and that that number is up to something hidden amongst the forest line of the west wall", said Walmsley.

"You look surprised John, I still have my moments even though I'm usually completely out of it lately", said Walmsley.

"Well don't just stand there go and check to see if I've guessed right", exclaimed Walmsley.

"Yes, milord right away", I said as I bowed and exited the room.

That last meeting with Lord Walmsley had really surprised me. Unlike what he'd been acting like for the past couple of years Lord Walmsley almost seemed like his old self again at the meeting. Even what he said made perfect sense and for the first time in at least a year I was going to follow his orders correctly.


"John! I was wondering when you'd get back", said Richard.

"So what did the old bastard have to say", he said.

"He said to send men to the East wall to look for some form of attack from the extra hundred men missing from the barbarian ranks", I said.

"I know I was just as astonished to hear him make sense again too", I said at the look on Richard's face.

"Maybe this battle's awoken his old self again", said Richard.

"Well I better get to it, wouldn't won't to screw up the only sensible idea Walmsley has had since... I can't remember when!" said Richard as he turned to yell out the new orders.

It didn't take long to find out that Walmsley's only sensible idea for years was actually a stroke of genius as well. After only an hour of spying over the west wall, the watchmen stationed there spotted some activity. There were indeed around one hundred barbarians up to something underneath the cover of the forest. It appeared as though they were building something. Although it was impossible to see exactly what it was. It could have been a catapult or a ballista for all we new.

"The barbarians are in range John should we open fire?" asked Brandon.

"I think it'd be wise to wait until they've advanced a bit nearer to our walls, then open fire, that way we'll be able to take out a few more because they'll have to retreat a greater distance to get out of our range", I answered.

"We'll do that, thanks for the advice", said Brandon over his shoulder as he parted to go and give the new orders to the archers, crossbowman and other long-range defenders.

Even though I was only the Lord's personal messenger at the time. Most of the garrison still asked me for advice because of my past accomplishments as the Captain General of Midsummer keep. I'd been demoted because of one of Walmsley's crazed orders saying that he wanted only people he could trust close to him so he abolished the rank of Captain General and turned me into his only contact with the outside world a part from his wife Lady Margaret, his private guards and some trusted servants. Of course there was no possible way of stopping this, even though Walmsley was out of his mind at the time an order from your liege lord is an order from your liege lord.

"We've opened fire John, but the barbarians are still coming on strong", said Richard

"We've taken out a great number but there's just to many of them, we need to devise a plan that will kill enough to send them packing", he continued.

"I've got an idea, you know that stack of logs behind the blacksmith's in the courtyard, if we poured pitch all over them and dropped them off the north wall aflame they should start rolling towards the northerners because the land slopes downwards towards the river on the north side", I replied.

"And for the other two parts of the army we could use the rest of the pitch just this time we'll boil it and pour it on them when they reach the wall", I said sickened at what I was proposing but I new I had to if I wanted there to be any chance of survival for any one of the people of Midsummer Keep.

"That's brilliant John!"

"I've no idea why you were demoted to Walmsley's personal messenger, how bloody insane can you get", muttered Richard as he wandered away.

"Brandon! Over here, did you here what were planning on doing", I said when I saw him encouraging the bowmen a top the north wall. (around ten minutes after Richard had left)

"Yes, as a matter of fact I did, it seems you haven't lost your touch John, I can only pray that your idea will work", said Brandon.

"Even if it doesn't live up to our full expectations it should at least decrease there number a fair amount", I replied.

My plan worked perfectly.

At least 600 barbarians lost their lives because of the boiling pitch and fire arrows.

At least 1500 barbarians lost their lives because of the giant rolling logs aflame and covered in pitch. These enormous losses caused the barbarians to withdraw for the time being at least but there was no way of knowing what they were planning to do next.

"Excellent work John, couldn't have done better myself", said Richard.

"I second that John", said a passing knight.

"Thank you but we still have big problems".

"The barbarians are already preparing for the next attack and this time it will be during the night", I said.

"You really have a hard time celebrating a single achievement don't you", said Brandon. .as he passed me on his way to the armoury to help fletch some more arrows.

"Only when there's still work to be done", I replied.

The evening soon faded away into an inking darkness that was only penetrated by the few moonbeams that escaped through the clouds and the torches within the keep and on the battlements.

The attack was swift and silent there was very little time to get ready. The night seemed to grow quieter as if awaiting something when all of a sudden it exploded with northern battle cries and the eerie hiss of hundreds of arrows as they flew above the wall and came whistling down. Some of the watchmen had been caught sleeping in the open. They either were startled awake by a piercing pain or never awoke at all.

"We need all the help we can get, any one who isn't guarding the gates or fending off grappling hooks, is firing or fletching arrows", instructed Richard.

"Were probably going to need some more people for that grappling hook job", I said as I stared slack jawed at the enormous siege tower lumbering across the fallen trees that were covering the moat. (which appeared to have been tied together by a very thick rope)

"Jesus! They must have brought it around from the west wall, I've never seen anything like it, it could scale a wall twice the size of ours", exclaimed Richard.

The siege tower creaked slowly over to the wall. Towering above it. The actual area were the barbarians exited it on to the wall was just above the wall. So all the barbarians had to do was step out onto the wall. But this tower had an extra compartment at the very top where a group of barbarian archers pelted our garrison with arrows and spears.

The tower reached the wall barbarians poured out of it and attacked the garrison.

"BURN IT!" I cried but no one could get close enough and most of our archers had already been killed. All we could do now was fight until we escaped, won or died.

The battle raged back and forth for two days. The barbarians only had one main entry into the castle besides grappling hooks so they could only send so many to attack at a time. However, they could replace there fallen but we could not.

I was taken out on the second day. I was in command, there hadn't been any large barbarian attacks for a while but there was still no way of getting close enough to the tower to torch it without being shot by an archer. All that was left of the garrison was around 500 men. I was elected to be in charge after the unfortunate demise of both of my good friends Richard and Brandon. The two had been in charge when the last large attack took place and unfortunately, both were speared by the barbarians in the compartment at the top of the tower. I was still in shock at the sudden loss of my two good friends but there was no time for pining during a war.

So there I was, sending men to take care of a few stray barbarians looking to become heroes as well as watching for another large attack. That's when it happened, all of a sudden there were battle cries filling the air and barbarians pouring out of the siege tower.

There was nothing I could do, I knew as I saw the first hundred barbarians pour onto the battlements that it was all over. The only thing to do now was to escape or die trying. I ran as fast I could with about ten men just behind me. We ran to the small gate in the side of the south wall and pushed it open.

We were only half a league from the keep when we ran into a group of barbarians. We were equal in numbers (ten) but we were tired from running and in a fair fight (although no southerner will admit this) barbarians are usually the victors. However, we weren't going to give up so easily after we gotten so far.

After what seemed ages we drove them off but not without great losses. We lost two men during that skirmish. A young squire named Arthur lost his life and I lost my left arm.

We eventually got far enough away and reached a small keep around 25 leagues away but by the time we got there my arm had already begun to fester.

It's been two weeks since the battle. The town doctor's surprised I'm still alive and as a matter a fact so am I. Ever since the battle of Midsummer keep all I've done is relived it over and over again. Although it cost many lives the battle actually turned out to be well worth with it. You see the army that attacked Midsummer keep was actually the largest army the barbarians had (It shouldn't be that surprising considering the small population of Lonely Island) and the garrison at Midsummer keep weakened it severely. After the battle, there was only 3000 barbarians left and they were easily taken care of by the Last Southern army as it is now called (which was around 7000 men). So as you may have already figured out, the battle of Midsummer keep actually decided the war. We won! The war is over.

So instead of wishing I'd done something better with my life. I'm glad to be able to say on my deathbed that...

My life was worth something.

The end

Copyright c)2001 Lucas Henderson