Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

The Siege of Syrn: Part III

The two freinds fell into the rear of the column, which began marching again at a grueling pace.

The swift pace, however, meant that they were granted another rest four hours later, instead of marching until dark.

Dirk and Arem sat together on a large rock and caught their breath.

"I'm beginning to question my choice in joining the army." Said Dirk.

"Why?"

"Well, for one thing, I didn't think I'd actually be called to fight."

"We haven't been called to fight, at least not yet." Said Arem. "This is a reinforcement of a garrison, nothing more."

"Maybe in legal terms, yes, but this is a garrison thats much much more likely to be attacked than Hash or Azul. I say that we'll probably see action before this month is out."

"Possibly. Was that your only reason?" Inquired Arem.

"No. You only joined last year, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I spent practially my entire first two years practicing marching, and being told horrifying stories of war by the older veterans. At the time, they seemed far off and distant. Now they seem to loom closer and closer. Honestly, I'm a little afraid. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe my father had a point when he wanted me to learn blacksmithying."

"Indeed." Said Arem. "I didn't have all that much time to spend marching, although I did spend quite a bit of time doing so before I was called here."

A horn sounded, again calling the column back into order. They began marching at a slightly slower pace than before. The dull tramp of feet echoed as they continued through the long, winding valley.

Off to the right, and up a small, wooded hill, a branch cracked. The noise startled Dirk and he looked up. There was a slight twang. A noise that he recognized very well from his years of training. Instinctivly, he raised his shield in front of his face. There was a slight thump and a cry of pain. Someone else had not been so quick to react. A man three rows in front of him fell to the ground, a black feathered arrow protruding from his arm.

All motion in the column stopped as men began realizing what was happening. Then someone in the front yelled "Spread out! Spread out!"

Instantly people began scattering. Shields were raised, and swords were drawn. The few archers that had accompanied the column strung their bows and began looking for targets. Whoever was attacking them, however, was well camouflaged, and few of the archers could find targets to shoot at.

The voice rang out again: "Spread out! Search the woods! They're hiding in the trees!"

Dirk ran to obey, and Arem followed him. They both drew their swords and ran up the small embankment.

As they reached the top, Dirk heard footsteps running away from them. He turned to run after them, but his chain mail shirt slowed him down. Arem followed. After about five minutes, the footsteps could no longer be heard. Dirk halted, panting. Arem stopped next to him. "So what do we do now,?" Arem asked.

As if in answer to the question, an arrow buried itself in the tree next to his head. It came from off to the left. The two freinds looked at each other, and began running.

A moment later, footsteps were heard running again. Dirk got a glimpse of a man in a dark green jerkin carrying a bow. "Oi!" He yelled, and ran harder.

Suddenly he tripped on a tree root and fell to the ground. Arem stopped to help him up. Dirk heard a hiss overhead. He grabbed Arem's arm and flung him to the ground. An arrow whizzed past right where Arem's chest had been a second before.

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