The Last Autumn

Chapter 4: Battle!

As the werewolves emerged from the trees, things became frantic and confused. Centaurs ran to and fro, hurriedly drawing their swords and cursing, and almost trampling their King. King Eldred quickly mounted his horse again and shouted,

"Form a ring! Form a defensive ring!" But by then the werewolves had reached the fringe of King Eldred's forces, and snarls and growls came from the embattled creatures. Steel flashed as the centaurs desperately tried to fight their assailants, but the werewolves had the advantage of surprise, and the fear and disorder that comes from it. King Eldred organized the centaurs nearby him into a ring formation, and then spread them outward to go to the relief of their companions. He went himself to where the centaurs were worst off, over on the left flank. There he saw the werewolves for the first time for ten years.

They looked much like regular wolves, only their eyes had an intense ferocity and intelligence, and their paws were longer, and had sharp claws. They put these to devastating effect, along with their long, yellow fangs against King Eldred's force. Sword blades lifted and lowered in fierce strokes as the centaurs tried to beat them off, with only middling success.

The King came into the fray, sword whirling and flashing in the sun so it created an illusion of a web of shining silver wreathing around King Eldred. A werewolf spotted him, and leapt forward, believing this stray human to be easy prey.

The King did not so much as blink as he quickly pulled his horse to the right and slashed at the passing werewolf. All regret of war and battle had passed; now he only felt the thrill of the melee. His heart was singing war songs, his horse's hooves sounded out battle drums, the whistling of his blade was the only trumpet he needed.

With the onset of King Eldred, the werewolves faltered for a moment. Then, with a short howl, they suddenly withdrew from combat and fled back to the forest.

King Eldred quickly looked around the battlefield, panting slightly. Many werewolves, maybe six or seven, had fallen, but two of his centaurs were also dead. Several more had bad bites on their legs or flanks.

Suddenly, he was denied time to think again as the werewolves poured out the trees again, having circled around to the right this time, away from the King.

"Fall back! Try to lure them out of the woods! Fall back!" King Eldred shouted, even as he ran toward the battle. First in every charge, last in every retreat.

His centaurs reacted surprisingly quickly, the ones near the rear turning completely around and galloping away while the ones in the battle fought harder to try to drive the werewolves off to get some breathing space. King Eldred joined the centaurs at the front, fighting with all his might. But the werewolves fought doggedly, refusing to back up a mere inch.

Suddenly, the centaurs who had been falling back came around again, galloping around the skirmish from the right and left wings. They ran around the werewolves, encircling them, and then drew closer, engaging them.

Now King Eldred saw more than bestial ferocity in the eyes of his assailants, and saw growing dismay. They had been out-maneuvered, and only had a narrowing gap of escape near the east end of the ring. A snarl from their leader would be all it took for them to get out.

"Close the breach! Tighten the circle, don't let any of the beasts escape!" King Eldred shouted. The centaurs hastened to obey, but it was too late. The werewolves started emptying out from the ring, about half of them getting through before the centaurs closed in on the gap.

The remaining werewolves fought with the tenacity of cornered beasts, flinging themselves on the centaurs with dangerous abandon. The werewolves lunged at the centaurs' throats, never to release their grip even after their death. Several centaurs managed to save themselves and slay the werewolves before this happened, but many more were much less fortunate. The remaining centaurs quickly revenged their fallen comrades, but the beasts kept their deadly mouthfuls.

A silence fell on the forest. The battle-song died in King Eldred's heart, and he suddenly felt very weak as he gazed upon the fallen. There was young Fieldwind, who had played the flute so merrily last week, and brave Hillsinger, who had slain four werewolves before he had finally been brought down like a deer. Only eleven of the twenty centaurs that had come with King Eldred from camp remained.

The battle-song in King Eldred's soul had died forever. Now it would only weep.

"We must mourn for our comrades later, my friends. First we must wipe out this menace from Narnia, and ensure they never reach the icy demonland that is their home. It would be but a small trade for the lives of our companions if Narnia was safe forever afterward." King Eldred called. "The wounded should make their way back to camp, if they can. The rest of us will go after the fleeing werewolves. They should be out of the forest by now, so we will be able to use our best tactics against them. Who can follow me?"

Nine centaurs raised their hands wearily, the other two, Riveroak and Greenwood, despite protests of their soundness, were ordered back to the camp because of their injuries. They reluctantly started limping away from the battle-field.

"Very well, you remaining, follow me now, swiftly!" King Eldred called, flourishing his sword in the air and galloping to the north. His remaining centaurs galloped after him, bellowing grief-stricken cries of revenge.

The trail wasn't hard to follow, as many of the werewolves seemed to be wounded and bled on the thick vegetation. The King had to go around several thick thickets that his horse and the centaurs couldn't get through, but he could hear the howls of the werewolves ahead, and knew he was getting closer.

"Don't engage them in the forest, they can maneuver too easily in the trees. Chase them out into the open, and wear them down. Don't get any closer than necessary." King Eldred instructed in a hoarse shout as he rode. He gripped his sword tighter, as his hands were beginning to ache, unused to the stress laid upon them in the last hour.

Suddenly, they were upon the werewolves. There were about ten beasts left, and they were clearly becoming exhausted, with slaver flecking their tangled grey coats. They leapt forward with greater speed when they saw the King and his centaurs, panting heavily.

The centaurs were beginning to tire as well, however, and the distance widened again. However, this was a good thing, as the centaurs were able to head the werewolves off when they suddenly tried to double back deeper into the forest.

Quite suddenly, the centaurs burst out from the trees and out into the open plain. The grey shapes of the werewolves were rapidly streaking to the north, and with a whoop of joy at being able to fight in their element, the centaurs redoubled their effort. At a gesture from the King, they formed into a V-shaped formation, with King Eldred at its head.

They galloped across the yellowing grass, their weariness almost forgotten with their goal in sight. With whoops and cries, they thundered on the plain, presenting a terrifying figure.

The werewolves, seeing that fleeing further was futile, suddenly stopped nearby a hill and braced themselves.

King Eldred smiled suddenly, realizing what they were expecting. They were anticipating a full-blown, classical cavalry charge. Well, that was one thing the King would deny them of.

He gave another signal with his long sword, and the 'V' closed into a single file. The werewolves grew nearer and nearer with every hoof beat.

Abruptly, King Eldred was upon them. He made a swift cut with his sword, tearing through the closest wolf's skin. He veered his horse violently to the left, and galloped past the mass of werewolves before they could react. His centaurs followed suit, veering randomly left or right to disconcert the creatures. In the aftermath, King Eldred saw that three or four werewolves had been slain.

The werewolves tried to run after them, but the centaurs were too swift. They were no longer in the constricting forest; this was their land, they were as birds in the air. The centaurs wheeled, turning back on the wolves in wide, harrying arcs, just barely in reach. One by one, the werewolves fell.

King Eldred suddenly felt a violent push, and was knocked off his saddle. He fell to the ground, a grey werewolf on top of him. His horse neighed in terror and galloped away, leaving the King to his adversary.

The werewolf snapped at his face, kept only at bay by King Eldred's pushing arms. His sword had fallen beyond his reach, lying on the grass a yard away. His grip suddenly slipped, and the werewolf's jaws leapt forward, barely missing the King's face and biting the soil next to his ear. King Eldred forcefully punched it with his mailed hand, knocking the werewolf off of him. He struggled to his feet, but the man-beast scrabbled up first and lunged at him, maw snapping furiously. However, it didn't make it to King Eldred, as a centaur suddenly ran from the side and reared up, flailing at the werewolf with his hooves. One hoof hit the creature on the skull, knocking it into the grass, which was followed by a quick stab with the centaur's sword. It looked up at King Eldred, and snarled out its final words:

"The Queen! The Great Queen will conquer you!" It laid its head on the grass, eyes dimming.

King Eldred stared at it for a moment, then hurriedly looked around at the remnants of the battle. Two werewolves were still trying to run away in the distance, but were being eagerly pursued by four centaurs. After a little distance, they were dispatched, and the centaurs came running back.

The King of Narnia looked over his victory, and wordlessly went to pick up his sword. With the sword dangling loosely in his hand, he walked in a small circle, surveying the battlefield over and over.

"It is done. Let us return, now." He said at last, barely above a whisper. King Eldred resignedly mounted his horse, and turned back to the forest. The centaurs fell in behind him; mute as the grass they trod on.

Inside of the forest, King Eldred found some of the feeling returning to his grief-numbed body. He had accomplished something, he had stopped the werewolf spies from returning to their mistress, and best of all, had deterred the threat they posed to the creatures of Narnia. Even though it couldn't deter the grief he felt, it dulled its edge.

The King was cheered as he entered the camp with the rest of his troop, and he put on a brave face and smiled at his army. It wouldn't do to have his army see their King, their champion, as a grief-stricken, tired old man. King Eldred was heartened to see the wounded centaurs come back safe and sound, and gave them a brief commendation but left them to their own means. Centaurs were extremely skilled physicians, and could be trusted to tend to themselves far better than anything else.

King Eldred went to his tent soon afterward, wishing to be left alone with his thoughts. At first, the sorrow threatened to overwhelm him, but he couldn't let it. This struggle was only beginning, only the first skirmish settled, and this was no time to start being a weepy old dotard.

The King spent a short moment to compose himself, and then went outside to look for Areto. He found the Fawn sitting on the grass underneath the boughs of the Tree of Protection, playing on a flute as if the green leaves above him gave him inspiration. Areto promptly ceased to play as soon as he saw the King, and stood at attention. King Eldred motioned him to sit again, and sat down on the turf next to Areto, sighing as his bones complained of the work. He looked up into the branches of the Tree and said,

"My father once used to take me and my mother here, on holidays. We'd stay and give feasts to all the folk in Lantern Wastes, and poetry and songs were spread everywhere like sunlight. My father never fought any battles, he never held a weapon except for in the glorious jousts he hosted." King Eldred reflected on his memory for a space, and then turned more grim.

"We need more allies, if we hope to defeat the White Witch. Areto, I need you to send for the Buffin brothers, the Pire Eagles, and the Boar of Beruna. Use the Squirrels, the Birds, anyone. Also, go send another messenger to the Wolves, repeating our urgent need for their alliance." King Eldred said. "Go now, send all the messengers before the hour's out."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Areto said, leaping up and running away through the camp on his dainty hooves without bothering to observe the niceties of departing from the King.

King Eldred sat under the Tree of Protection for about an hour, and departed to his tent as the sun touched the western hills to rest.

Author's Note: Sorry for leaving you with a cliffhanger anyway, despite all my efforts. I've been very distracted, and nowadays not just by webcomics. I've taken up running D&D adventures with my sisters, and online as well. Also, school's become more taxing.

In response to the reviews, yes, King Eldred was based in part on King Theoden, but I tried not to draw too heavily on him. I drew more examples from Prester John, the aged king from the Memory, Sorrow, and Thorn series by Tad Williams.