The steady beat of war drums echoed ominously through the thick forest, their rhythm sending chills down Akin's spine as he and his men hastened through the trees. The darkness seemed to close in around them, the dense canopy blocking out the light of the moon. Akin's heart raced in time with the drumbeats as he led his group deeper into the woods, hoping to outrun the approaching rebels before they were overtaken.
"Keep moving!" Akin shouted, urging his men forward. His breath was heavy, the weight of exhaustion beginning to settle on him after the chaos of the ambush. Lord Renold, still shaken but alive, stumbled along behind him, flanked by two soldiers helping him keep pace. The envoy's face was pale, his eyes wide with fear.
Behind them, the sound of hooves and armor crashing through the underbrush grew louder with every passing moment. Akin could feel the rebels gaining on them, their drums acting as a signal, a taunt that the real fight had yet to come.
"We need to find high ground," Garrick said, his voice low but urgent. He was running beside Akin, his spear in hand and his sharp eyes scanning the forest around them.
Akin nodded, his mind racing through possible strategies. The rebels had the advantage in numbers, but Akin's men had the element of surprise. If they could find a defensible position, they might be able to hold off the enemy long enough to make their escape.
"There's a ridge about half a mile ahead," Akin said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's steep, but we can hold it."
Garrick gave a grim nod. "We'll make our stand there."
---
The group moved swiftly through the forest, their footsteps muffled by the thick underbrush. Akin led the way, his senses on high alert as they neared the ridge. The sound of the drums was closer now, a constant thrum that seemed to reverberate in the very air around them. He could hear the rebels shouting to one another, their voices growing louder, more confident.
Akin's breath came in short bursts as he pushed himself forward, the weight of his sword heavy in his hand. He could feel the tension building among his men, the anticipation of battle hanging thick in the air. They were outnumbered, but Akin knew that if they could reach the ridge, they might have a chance to turn the tide.
As they emerged from the thick trees, the ridge loomed ahead—a steep rise of rocky ground that jutted out from the forest floor. It wasn't much, but it would give them the high ground they needed to make a stand.
"Form up!" Akin shouted, his voice cutting through the din of the approaching rebels.
His men moved quickly, taking their positions along the ridge. Shields were raised, swords drawn, and spears were set in place. Akin stood at the front, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the tree line for any sign of movement.
The war drums stopped suddenly, replaced by an eerie silence that stretched out across the forest.
"They're close," Garrick muttered, his grip tightening on his spear. "Stay sharp."
The silence was broken by the sound of rustling leaves, and within moments, the first of the rebel soldiers burst through the trees. They came in waves, their faces obscured by dark helms, their weapons glinting in the pale moonlight. There were far more than Akin had anticipated—dozens, maybe more—and they moved with a brutal efficiency that sent a chill down his spine.
"Hold your ground!" Akin commanded, his voice firm despite the growing sense of dread that gnawed at him. "We fight here!"
The rebels charged up the ridge, their weapons raised, their battle cries echoing through the night. Akin's men met them head-on, their shields forming an impenetrable wall that held firm against the first wave of attackers. The clash of steel rang out as swords and spears met, the sound of battle filling the air once again.
Akin's sword was a blur as he moved through the fray, striking down any rebel who dared come too close. His movements were swift, precise, each strike delivered with deadly intent. He sidestepped a rebel's wild swing, countering with a powerful slash that cut through the man's armor, sending him tumbling down the ridge.
Garrick fought beside him, his spear a deadly extension of his body as he thrust it into the chest of a charging rebel, twisting it free before the man hit the ground. The two of them moved in perfect sync, their years of fighting together evident in every movement.
But the rebels kept coming.
Wave after wave crashed against Akin's defenses, their numbers seemingly endless. His men fought valiantly, but Akin could see the strain in their faces, the fatigue setting in. They couldn't hold the ridge forever.
"We need to fall back!" Garrick shouted over the din of battle, his spear dripping with blood.
Akin gritted his teeth, his mind racing. They were running out of options. If they stayed here much longer, they would be overwhelmed. But if they retreated now, they risked being caught in the open.
A rebel soldier broke through the line, charging straight toward Akin with a wild cry. Akin spun on his heel, his sword arcing through the air and striking the man down before he could land his blow. But the attack had left Akin exposed, and before he could react, another rebel was upon him, a dagger flashing in the moonlight.
Akin barely had time to raise his arm in defense, the dagger slicing through the leather of his bracer and cutting deep into his forearm. He let out a pained cry, dropping his sword as he staggered back.
Garrick was at his side in an instant, his spear driving into the rebel's chest before he could strike again. "Akin!"
"I'm fine," Akin hissed through gritted teeth, pressing his hand to the wound. Blood seeped through his fingers, staining the leather of his armor. The pain was sharp, but he forced himself to stand tall, ignoring the throbbing in his arm.
"We can't hold them much longer," Garrick said, his voice urgent. "If we don't move now, we're finished."
Akin nodded, his mind racing as he weighed their options. They needed to retreat, but they couldn't afford to break ranks. If they did, the rebels would overrun them in minutes.
"Form up!" Akin shouted, rallying his men. "We're falling back—slowly! Hold the line!"
The men moved as one, retreating down the ridge in a tight formation, their shields raised as the rebels pressed their attack. Akin and Garrick took up the rear, their weapons flashing as they held off the advancing enemy.
The rebels were relentless, their numbers overwhelming, but Akin's men held firm, their discipline and training keeping them alive as they retreated step by step through the forest.
But just as they began to think they might escape, a new sound echoed through the trees—the unmistakable sound of more horses approaching.
Akin's heart sank as he realized what it meant. The rebels weren't done yet. Reinforcements were coming, and they were about to be surrounded.
"We need to get to the river," Garrick said, his voice filled with urgency. "It's our only chance."
Akin nodded, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as the weight of exhaustion settled over him. The river lay just beyond the trees, its rushing waters offering a slim chance of escape. If they could reach it, they might be able to lose the rebels in the water and escape into the dense forest beyond.
"Run!" Akin shouted, giving the order that would decide their fate. "To the river!"
The men broke into a sprint, their heavy armor clinking as they crashed through the underbrush, the sound of the approaching rebel reinforcements growing louder with every step.
Akin could feel the blood running down his arm, the pain of his wound threatening to slow him down. But he pushed forward, refusing to give in to the exhaustion that threatened to pull him under. His men were counting on him, and he wouldn't let them down.
The river came into view, its dark waters rushing past in a torrent. The men didn't hesitate, plunging into the water as the sound of the rebels drew closer.
Akin was the last to reach the riverbank, turning just in time to see the first of the rebel reinforcements emerge from the trees, their weapons raised, their eyes locked on him.
Without a second thought, Akin threw himself into the river, the icy water closing over him as the current swept him away.