The Undead Warriors - Prologue
https://www.thebookwormsuk.com
A new evil threatens a medieval world. Read the untold story of a fallen legend.
Captain
Lance had been given his name because of the weapon he carried. He carried it proudly, he carried it well,
and he threw it even better. Legend had
it that he’d once hit a bullet mid-flight in a single throw. An impossible story since bullets would not
be invented for a few centuries yet.
Times had
changed. Over a vast ocean of endless waves, he watched over his flock with
pride and honour. Though now, instead of
goats and pigs, he watched over an army of soldiers, ready to fight and die by
his side. In ships they sailed together to war with an army of devilish men who
plagued their homelands with brute force for too long. The King had ordered
their battles to commence and the time had arrived all too quickly for Lance.
He gazed
across the ships sailing behind his lead. There were hundreds of them, each
carrying soldiers ready to die for a good cause. His own ship held the flag of
the The Grey Valley, a kingdom known for its wealth and fruitful pastures and
envied by many bordering kingdoms. It was his home and he had brought an army
of men willing to die for their freedom. The weeks spent planning, the days
spent at sea now seemed so distant. The last few miles took only seconds in comparison.
Metal would clash with metal all too soon.
But all the while, Captain lance wore an
unusual smile. A satisfied one, perhaps, for he had truly succeeded in every
way a Captain should, though a twinge of sadness sat at his brow, showing the
subtle wrinkles above his brow that had formed in recent years. There was good
reason for it. Today was to be Captain Lance's last day on this earth and he
knew it. The Keeper had told him so.
The
Captain put a firm grip on the lance in his hand, and then stroked a metal mask
at his feet. It was his prized weapon,
his most treasured possession, even more crucial to the battle than his lance.
The powers it held outgrew any sword or scimitar or bow and arrow alike. Made
from the purest gold, the mask shone almost white in the light of the moon.
"You
don't have to do this," a voice said behind him.
In the
depth of his thoughts, Captain Lance found the interruption somewhat amusing. A
young man was watching him curiously.
There were tears in his eyes, the kind which summon themselves through
fear and disdain.
“What I mean is, you can stay on board the ship. There’s no need for you to fight this one.”
"Of
course there is," he replied. “Don’t be so afraid. Death is something
we cannot escape. I’d rather it didn’t take me as a coward!” Hoping that his touch alone might
share a little hope, Captain Lance ruffled the young man’s hair gently.
Soon, he put
out his hand and in an instant, a rowing boat was lowered carefully into the choppy
sea. It tilted from side to side before settling into a steady rhythm. Two
brawny men climbed down the ropes and sat themselves front and back, gripping
hold of two large oars either side of the boat. Theirs would be the first to
reach shore, though thousands more would follow. With one final tap of the stern,
Captain Lance gave a heavy sigh and followed the two rowers into the boat. Six
of his most trustworthy soldiers followed him in.
They
drifted towards the dark land ahead. The night was a friend to their stealth,
though it was clear by the fires that had been lit on the land that their
attack was no surprise to the Brutes. They would be ready and waiting for
battle, though the moonlight would make it hard for their arrows to hit any
targets.
"If only this water was as warm as it
looked," the Captain smiled as he clambered over the side of the sturdy
wooden boat. Cold sea water swallowed him to his chest, making him shiver. It was a lot colder than it looked, but it
didn’t bother him for he knew that the moment he wore the
golden mask, warmth would enter his entire being like a blanket of fire. But he
didn’t put it on just yet. He felt that given it would be
his last battle, he should choose the timing perfectly.
Another two
men, weighed down by their heavy armour, sank into the shallow waters and
joined the captain, pushing the boat to the end of its journey. Captain Lance
marvelled at their strength and he prayed that they would make it out of these
lands once the battle was over. His emotions kept themselves well hidden. Already, the coast that lay before them was
riddled with dark shadows. Enemies he
had come to fight for the last time. He
would win, that was guaranteed. Though
death for him was also certain.
"Do
not be put off by their numbers," he yelled to his men. "We are far greater than
they." He looked down at the mask
again knowing that its unmatched powers would soon manifest. "Far greater," he said again.
It
started with a dark shadow soaring through the clouds.
"Tip
the boat!" Captain Lance yelled, gripping the thick wood with his hands
and thrusting it over, capsizing the rowing boat with one huge effort. Ducking briefly
beneath the water, he felt the shock of the cold on his face. Now it was time
to wear the mask, he thought. As arrows whistled through the night sky, he
sheltered beneath the safety of the wooden boat, his men following his lead and
joining him, one after the other. They each heard the thwack as a few of the
arrows hit the boat. Captain Lance breathed a sigh of relief on seeing that so
far, all of his men were still breathing. Without wasting another moment, he
gave one final smile to his men.
“Good luck and god-speed dear friends,” he told them before ducking beneath the sea and
escaping the safety of the toppled boat. Once his head hit the air, he put the
mask over this face giving him every appearance of a Knight in shining armour.
Instantly,
the dark night was lit as though a star had fallen from the sky to shine the
way.
Captain
Lance ran to the shore with an almighty roar.
His eagerness to end the war outweighed his reluctance to die. All things must come to an end, he thought as
his enemies faces became clearer. He had lived a good life. He regretted
nothing. He felt the subtle shudder of the metal as it worked its charm,
summoning angels from their sleep. His
arms would fight faster, his speed, his strength, all of them heightened by the
powers of the mask.
Watch the trailer or head to the next blog to read more.
http://blogs.bl.uk/digitisedmanuscripts/2017/08/the-medieval-cartulary-behind-a-ghost-story.html
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