For Alagaesia: 50. Defeated

The enthralling roar was in the air. For every step they took, it increased in intensity calling him to it. Roran had developed a liking to the sea when he had seen it for the first time in Teirm an year and a half ago while escaping from the empire. The sea had signified his freedom. It of course was a sign of freedom – an example of how Alagaesia should have been. A little excited on the outside like the waves that constantly washed over to the shores, but calm and serene on the inside – like the endless water filling the space between the ocean floor and the air; hiding the vicious water currents running deep in the ocean.

Galbatorix had taken away all that from Alagaesia. The land was a mess. The ocean was much better. Hence Roran liked it.

The city of Teirm stood like a silent watch tower standing guard on the shore. Roran was excited with the thoughts of liberating the great coastal city from the grip of Galbatorix and transforming it into truly a watch tower for all of Alagaesia – a watch tower that constantly keeps vigil against foreign forces attacking from the seas.

The wall of the city seemed to look back at him mockingly. 'How are you going to break me?', it seemed to ask. Roran knew how strong the wall was. That wall had protected Teirm from Urgal and pirate attacks in the past and now it stood ready to defy a Varden attack. The major strength of the wall was its dual layer. It was nigh on impossible to break through one layer let alone the second. He took heart from the extensive discussions he had with Jeod regarding Teirm's defences. The Scholar-merchant had made it clear that the only problem they would face in Teirm was the wall.

His soldiers were still recovering from having faced Galbatorix. The effects of the experience had not left him too. His hand shook involuntarily at times. Roran hid his discomfort from others lest they think him incapable of leading. But what annoyed him the most was the hesitation they showed in communicating with him. Even when they did speak, their voice was so low and so reverent that Roran was made to feel as if he was some sort of God. Only the elves spoke with him normally. And that made him seek out their company. For the first time since he met with the various races of Alagaesia, he felt more comfortable speaking with the elves than with the other races.

He did his best to ignore the treatment he was meted out by the humans, dwarves and urgals, focusing instead on the task at hand. He somehow had to devise a plan to siege the city with the minimal equipment that his army carried. Having had to move through the Spine, they had not taken heavy equipment like battering rams, trebuchets and onagers that were indispensable for any campaign that involved protective walls.

The dwarves had promised to fashion those weapons from the trees on the slopes of Spine. But Roran knew for a fact that however talented the dwarves were, undried wood and time constraints, not to mention, lack of tools would hamper the effectiveness of the weapons thus fashioned. He only hoped that they would be good enough for one time use – to defeat Teirm's incredible defences.

“They are well prepared.”, Madhura said, “It will be a miracle if we could overpower the city's defences.” She was the only leader among his subordinates whom he trusted enough to speak her opinions openly to him. The others were in some sort of trance looking up at Roran like a saviour and self-doubting their own skills.

“You felt them?”, Roran asked. He had known that elves could touch and read minds from a distance. But this was something unprecedented. The city was several leagues away.

“They have scouts.”, the elf replied grimly.

Roran took a few seconds to get what Madhura was meaning and when he did he gasped. “They are watching?”, he asked.

“Yes. I gathered information about their preparations from one of their scout's mind.”

“Did you..”, Roran started to ask but Madhura pre-empted him, “He is dead. But there are many. Word of our arrival should have reached Teirm by now.”

Roran decided that the quicker they began their attack the better. Giving the city time to prepare would be a folly they would have to regret. The only real siege weapons the Varden now had was the lone battering ram that the Urgals had brought with them from Rappararanzlar. If enough protection was given to it, the Varden may succeed in keeping the soldiers of Teirm occupied and gain a dent -however small – in the gates of the city.

“I want you to guard the Urgal's battering ram at all costs.”, Roran said to Madhura.

“You are going to attack?”, the elf asked back.

“Yes, wasting time will only make the city more difficult to conquer.”, he said to her and then turning on his back to face his army, he announced, “My people, we have braved weather and enemies considered undefeatable to reach these shores. What is to stop us from taking what is rightfully ours? Our lack of equipment? Bah, those are arguments of the timid. They say that for the valorous even grass serves as weapons. We have our bows. We will strike them down with our arrows. They will see us and they will fear us. How long can they hide behind their monstrous wall?”

“Aye.”, the urgals shouted. The humans and the dwarves soon joined in and a wave of approval for Roran's words passed through the army interrupted only by the rolling noise coming from the hills under which they were camping.

Everyone's attention turned toward the hills and in minutes, the dwarves emerged from the slopes rolling two absolutely perfect-looking Trebuchets along. At seeing this, another wave of cheering went around the crowd. Roran marvelled at the excellence of the dwarves. He had never imagined that such powerful and dangerous weapons could be created in hours. But the proof was right before his eyes.

“Additional equipments for you to provide protection”, he said to Madhura pointing the trebuchets. Madhura nodded.

“The dwarves have lived up to their name.”, she said. The elves only rarely appreciated anyone and when that appreciation was directed at dwarves with whom they always had tense relations, it meant something. “They are making more.”, Madhura said. Roran didn't want to ask how she knew because he had seen enough of the elves to doubt their discoveries. And he realised what Madhura's earlier praise had been for: delivering more than promised in less than promised time.

With a thunderous roar that rivalled even that of the ocean’s the Varden’s army marched forward. Roran was sure that the city-dwellers would have heard them. But he didn’t care. The more fear they instilled, the easier it would become.

Roran had reorganised the army so that they moved in one big unit commanded by leaders who took orders directly from him. The Urgals formed the flanks of the army while the humans and the dwarves made up the inner lines. Thankfully, nobody had objected to his style of arrangement, which he had designed keeping in mind the survival of his army above all else.

For the first time and definitely the last, he was glad that the people eyed him like a deity and hence stopped questioning his decisions. The humans and dwarves would never have accepted the protective circle of the Urgals around them if not for Roran’s orders to assemble that way. He knew that the siege would take days to complete and the open sea shore meant that people staying outside the walls became easy prey of the arrows, fireballs and rocks coming from the city. Hence in want of protecting the more fragile part of his army – the humans and dwarves – he had ended up with that kind of strategy. He knew it was far from being actually useful, but still it gave him a sense of security.

His only qualm was that the elves couldn’t fight as a unit. Owing to their low numbers, Madhura had organised her people in such a way that they could protect and heal the maximum number of soldiers during the siege. Further, the protection needed for the siege weapons crippled the elves attacking abilities. They were solely helping in the defences in what was basically an attack(a siege was inherently an attack).

Within the first league of their march, Roran deduced how mild winter was near the shores. There was hardly any snow on the ground. In fact, little blossoms bloomed at ground level giving it a poetic feel. The only indication that winter was at its peak was the biting cold wind blowing from the Spine.  Only now did he realise the entire potential of Nasuada’s idea to attack Teirm during winter. The empire would simply loose the only area that produces anything in the winter and the Varden would gain another important food producing area in addition to Surda and Du Weldenvarden;  not to mention isolating Kuasta and gaining an important sea route link.

The Urgals and humans walking ahead of him seemed not to notice the beautiful blossoms.  They stamped them as they walked. Maybe they hadn’t noticed because they were walking and he noticed them since he was riding Snowfire. The crushing of the mild and tiny blossoms made Roran sad. The beat of a fast approaching horse’s hooves brought Roran out of his pointless thoughts.

The mounted soldier came to a stop right beside him. Roran was stunned to see the elves arrange themselves in a protective circle around him. He had not wanted any personal guards. Not wanting to create unnecessary argument, he let the matter go. “General, the dwarves have brought three more engines.”, the soldier informed. He looked shaken. Who wouldn't be when elves raise their swords at you?

“That is great news. Good on you for bringing it to my notice.”, Roran replied. The soldier bowed and went back to his position. Roran turned to Madhura. She nodded understanding and set off towards the newly arrived siege engines. She was given charge of protecting the siege engines and arranging them in a such a way that they would cause maximum damage and sustain minimal damage.

Roran's confidence rose a notch. If the dwarves could sustain this speed of delivery, then the battle may turn out to be simpler than he expected it to be. Soon the city loomed ahead of them – a graceful set of buildings and a strong wall hiding the well laid out streets. Roran could see shadows scrambling up the towers near the wall and other shadows loading ammunition to the defenive engines placed on wall-bordering buildings. He could distinctly see three lines of archers atop the wall. One look at the wall said all about it: strong, tall, unscalable and nigh on unbreakable. The city was preparing hard to resist the Varden. And with it, all the confidence he had minutes before he got a clear view of the wall fell back. But what rose instead was a determination; a determination to acheive the impossible; to defeat Teirm and its wall.

He expected attack from the city as soon as they showed up but nothing came their way. The soldiers of the empire were waiting orders. It made him feel more vulnerable. He had heard of the soldiers of Terim – the most disciplined of all the empire. It was going to be a difficult batttle.

But Roran wasn't one to lose his calm under pressure. He waited too. He wanted to see how Teirm had estimated them. It could only be known from Teirm's first attack that comes unprompted. None of the Varden would attack without him ordering to; he knew and he waited. The anticipation was nearly killing him. But he waited.

Then it came. A huge boulder came flying towards the Varden at great speed.

'Great. They hold us to extreme respect.' He had hoped against hope that Teirm would underestimate them and hence concedee the Varden an edge. But it was not to be.

The elves were quick to react. Raising their hand at the stone, they muttered something. The air in the line of the stone hardened and the stone slowed enough to give most of the varden in its path to move away. Still five men were crushed under the stone when it hit them.

“Archers!!! Be ready!”, Roran commanded. “Take aim at the soldiers on the wall.”, he instructed. The pulling of the bow strings was ominously audible. It signified the death of a lot of humans. Roran had decided that that the worst problem would be from the wall-mounted archers since they had the advantage of numbers – the vast number of arrows flying toward them couldn’t be controlled even by the elves. So eliminating or atleast reducing the strength of the empire’s archers should be the first course of action, he had decided. “Release arrows”, he ordered. His orders were echoed by the various captains of the Varden and soon the whoosh of the arrows filled the air.

The falling empire soldier’s screaming drowned the answering volley of arrows fired by the empire. Roran could say that the damage caused by the empire arrows was much more severe than the damage done by Varden’s attack. ‘of course, height always helps.’, he thought. Nevertheless the intensity of the empire’s attack was down after a few volleys.

As soon as Roran sensed it, he commanded, “Take the ram ahead!!” The battering ram was the primary reason for his excessive care in eliminating the archers. The handlers of the ram were easy targets to the archers on the wall.

The battering ram of the Urgals was heavy and large. It was intimidating when seen separately. But when Roran saw it against the gate of Terim, he only prayed that the gate be dented by the ram. Some fifteen Urgals started pushing the battering ram assembly towards the gate.

In seconds, the soldiers of Teirm reacted. Spears were thrown at the Urgals in frustration, when the arrows couldn’t dent the Urgal’s charge. Madhura had taken position just beside the ram coordinating the Urgals while protecting the battering ram at the same time. Each time an Urgal fell another took his place and the battering ram moved steadily towards the gate.

At the same time, taking the march of the battering ram as a cue, the other engines – the trebuchets and onagers fired stones and fireballs at the wall around the gate. The dwarves handled their equipment with aplomb.

The Urgals imbued all their strength in the first crash of the ram into the gate, except it was all for vain. The air in between the ram and the gate simply seemed to repulse the ram away from the gate.

Madhura swore loudly in the ancient language, yet Roran could understand what she meant: “Fool!!” and he also knew that she had directed the blame on herself. Roran couldn't grasp how he knew all that but then realised that Madhura's anger had been great that her words had a mental part to them. The strength of the elven mind amazed him to no end.

But, for all that strength, the sad part was that Madhura had not noticed the charms around the gate. Of course she and other spell casters had tried to break open the gate using magic at first and had failed. But none had supected the presence of barriers for physical attacks. There was no reason to since not one empire city's gates had such heavy protections. But they were there. The force of the blockade was such that the Urgals hands were jarred and bruised even though they had been bracing against it.

Madhura closed her eyes and a composed expression came over her face. The Urgals surrounded her trying to guard her from empire attacks. Minutes passed and nothing happened. And then Madhura started chanting – fast and murmuring. Every bit of his attention devoted on the gate, Roran waited. Then all of a sudden, the air around the gate started to ripple. Simultaneously, Madhura flinched and twitched. And then, with a huge blast that threw two Urgals high into the air, the blockade was removed or so Roran hoped. Madhura swayed from her position and fell down fainted. An elf came running from somewhere and kneeling beside Madhura started working to mend her.

The Urgals, even though two of their ranks were lost, started moving the battering ram again. Roran waited with bated breath, praying for the ram to strike its mark. Madhura had nearly given herself up for that cause and he didn't want the the effort of his most trusted ally – on this leg of the campaign – to go to waste. With a loud crash, the vibrations of which reverberated for a good few seconds, the head of the ram slammed into the gate. Roran sighed in relief, although the ram hadn't done any damage to the gate. All through this, the dwarves relentlessly flung rocks and fireballs at the wall using their siege engines.

“Is she alright?”, Roran asked to the elf treating Madhura.

“Yes general. She has just lost too much energy. She will have to rest though.”, the elf replied.

Roran nodded. It wasn't as bad as he feared. A few hours rest and Madhura would be joining the army again. Without her support, he couldn't make the right decisions – especially since the other leaders were in awe of him and were simply refusing to provide suggestions. 'Refusing.', he thought was the best possible way of explaining the state of the human, dwarven and even Kull warriors and leaders. They seemed to think that Roran could single-handedly tear down the wall of Teirm. He only hoped that the horrors of the battle would bring them to their senses again.

“General, the losses at the gate are too much to continue our attack.”, an elf came up to him and said.

“Send in more troops there.”, Roran said flatly.

“It is just sending them to their death. The gate has not shown any sign of denting.”

“What else do you expect me to?”, Roran shot back frustrated. The elf stared back at him calmly. “Place wards on them. Do something. We can't afford to leave our position. Not now. They will annihilate our whole army if we do.”, Roran said to the elf sighing heavily. It seemed like a lost cause already, just six hours into the assault. And Roran knew retreating wasn’t an option since it would only help Teirm to strengthen its position and kill as many Varden soldiers as possible.

The elf nodded understanding and passed the command onto the other captains. “Are the dwarves ready with more siege engines?”, Roran asked.

“They are arriving general.”, a dwarf called back. “They aren’t fast enough”, Roran muttered under his breath and nodded. Teirm seemed to have a trove of arrows that never drained and archers who never tired. Volley after volley of arrows were launched at the Varden, not as strong as the initial one yet capable of causing significant damage. As things stood, if retreat was instant death, staying seemed like slow death.

Nothing seemed to be working. A group of three elves and four dwarves sent to examine weak points in the wall came back empty handed. And even after a hundred slams, the gate showed no sign of weakening. If something was dented then it was the huge battering ram of the Urgals. The Varden were not able to shoot down the number of empire soldiers that would dishearten Teirm’s commanders to stop attacking the Varden with their arrows. The dwarves were in short supply of stones and fire-powder and their attacks were growing insufficient and incapable of holding empire soldiers from reaching near the gate and attacking the Urgals operating the battering ram. Roran was informed that the dwarves had brought their own battering ram and were trying to break through the seaward facing gate. But Roran knew it would be of no use. That gate was even stronger than this one, if it was possible at all. It seemed as if the Varden were on the cusp of being defeated. And it was apparently clear to the varden soldiers because their intensity dropped so much that it now seemed like a one-way attack with the empire focussed on annihilating the Varden.

“General!!”, Madhura, who, according to Roran, should be resting after her gruelling contest with magic just hours ago called. He turned to her expecting her to say something, but she kept running towards him. Perplexed, Roran focussed back on coordinating the archers directly under him and waited for Madhura to join him. When she neared him, she whispered, taking extreme caution to avoid the ears of others, “I have grave news.” Roran considered the state of the Varden army and thought what could be graver than their situation. “Lady Nasuada was taken by the empire’s dragon rider.”, Madhura said.

Roran felt as if the ground was slipping beneath his feet. His mouth tasted bitter. Guilt and hopelessness fought for control inside his mind. He could see defeat smiling ridiculously at him from the morning sun’s rays. Nasuada? The leader was gone? Taken? What would the Varden do now? It was his – Roran’s – fault. He shouldn’t have left Dras-Leona. His head sagged and with it his will to fight.

“Roran, promise me that you will stay safe.”, the dear voice of Katrina whispered, urging him to continue. To not lose hope. He thought of the little son he and Katrina would have in months and of the life he wanted to give to his son. He had not imagined vividly about the life his son would get; but in what little he had imagined, Galbatorix had no part. And he didn’t intend to lose that little fantasy whatever the cost.

“Narheim!!”, he called. “Build ladders. We are climbing this wall.” He was determined to overrun Teirm even if it meant doing the impossible. The dwarven commander looked stunned at his command. Ladders were the last resort in any siege – one that people used when all else failed. It was going for the kill throwing caution to the air. Narheim waited as if to see Roran change his decision. When Roran stood silent, the dwarf nodded and went off.

Roran put on his best possible expression when he faced his soldiers. He didn’t want them to know about the fate of the Varden leader. It would shatter what little confidence was left in them. And that confidence was absolutely necessary if the Varden was to escape from this battle with upheld heads.

An hour of gruelling battle passed with not much progress to either side. If any side lost more than the other then it was the Varden, which was obvious considering the various advantages of Teirm. ‘Ladders… Ladders… Ladders…’, Roran thought. Earlier, it was out of frustration, anticipation and wild determination that Roran had ordered that ladders be made. But now it was out of need that his mind was asking for ladders.

“General!”, a human captain called and said, “The dwarves are bringing ladders.”

Roran sighed in relief. It was now a do or die battle. Ascent the wall and fight to death or win.

Roran ran towards the ladders. They were crafted from strong trees and each step was capable of holding four men. Both ends of the ladders were markedly different from the rest of the ladder and from each other. The bottom end had a slanted stand-like structure that would help position the ladder at an angle to the wall. It also had long, strong and sharp tips just under the stand that would enable the ladders to be fixed to a position. The top end had retractable metal surfaces that when expanded, joined with the ladder at right angles and when retracted stood parallel to the ladder’s length. It was basically a hinge and door mechanism which opened when shock was applied to the ladder.

“Take these to the front.”, he ordered. There were eight ladders, just enough to support two hundred-odd soldiers up the wall in one instant.

“Madhura!!”, he called the elf leader.

“Yes general.”, the elf answered.

“Elves are to lead each ladder. Take care of it.” The elf nodded and left. The strength of the elves could minimise the damage that the empire soldiers could inflict on the Varden while climbing the ladder. They could reach the top faster and they would be well equipped to handle the soldiers near the landing point.

“Narheim, more ladders are needed.”, Roran informed.

“They are working on it, Stronghammer.”, the dwarf replied. Within minutes, the first ladder was placed in position. Roran looked on in wonder as two elves climbed the ladder as if they were walking on a flowerbed. Urgals followed the two elves. The fifteen Urgals, although not as smooth and fast as the elves, were far better than the humans who followed them. By the time the first dwarf touched the lowest railing, the two elves had felled three of the empire’s archers – the first kills using swords in the whole campaign – and the next ladder was put in place.

The ascend of the Varden’s fortunes continued quite well as Teirm’s soldiers had not anticipated ladder-assisted attack. Before they coud take precautionary steps, a part of the wall had fallen into the Varden’s hands. But the lead was not to be maintained. Soon the empire came to terms with the Varden’s do-or-die approach and started attacking the ladders. They poured oil on the ladders and tried to set fire to them. They were successful with a few ladders and failed with many.

But soon it became clear that the Varden were slowly losing the edge they had gained by the surprise attack with ladders. Parts of the wall were in the Varden’s control, yes, but the empire soldiers stopped the Varden from gaining more ground. Basically, the Varden-controlled part of the wall was divided into little islands in the ocean of empire-controlled wall.

The empire soon started attacking from inside the city and the Varden were just capable of retaining their position atop the wall. They couldn’t advance which in itself meant victory to the empire.

The fact was slowly sinking into him – they won’t be winning this battle. The attack on Teirm was going to be a failure. He knew he had to retreat, but couldn’t bring himself to sound it. Because retreating would mean abandoning the people on the wall and leaving them to fend for themselves.

Roran bit his lip hard. Blood oozed from it. He fingered his ring and thought of Katrina. A drop of tear gathered at the edge of his eyes. He was defeated. The Varden were defeated.

Author's Note:

A bit cruel of me, isn't it? Leaving it here, hanging from a cliff. Actually I had not planned this one to be so. But this seemed a perfect place to keep you waiting. So don't be angry at me.