Ariana’s War
by Gary Clifton
“Halt!” The sharp command shattered the tranquil predawn darkness. “Show yourself or die where you stand!”
The challenge reverberated up through the huge rocks ascending in irregular ranks to the village above. Flickering light from the sentry’s torch soon illuminated the face of a small girl.
Eyes wide, black locks showing beneath her hooded shawl, she managed meekly, “Captain, please lower your weapon.”
The bulky soldier moved closer. “Great Spirit of the Temple, Lady Ariana, what are you doing down here in the war zone? You must know Prince Ogart the Horrible’s army will attack at dawn. Deadly arrows will soon reach this ground.” His concerned face was exaggerated by the flickering light.
“Captain, Princess Clandaria tasked me with surveying our chances of surviving Ogart’s onslaught. Speak quickly, and I’ll be gone.”
He sheathed his saber and anxiously studied the ranks of burning torches advancing relentlessly across the plain to the beat of a war drum. “M’lady, Ogart will first send in his Paladite cavalry, hoping to turn the flank of our archers defending the low area to our left, then he will try to crush our main force with his heavy Balsarian strikers.”
“Paladites? Balsarians? Mercenaries, Captain?”
“Ogart the Horrible’s troops are all paid soldiers of fortune, M’lady.”
“How badly are we outnumbered?”
“Our Lutholdan army consists of just under a hundred, of which forty are skilled archers. None are paid, for they defend their homes and families. All our forces are armed with the short stabbing sword of our ancestors, lethal in the confined spaces amidst the rocks leading upward to Lutholda. We pray the longer weapons of Ogart’s toadies will be negated by the close quarters.”
“Can we prevail, Captain?”
“Our chances are uncertain, M’lady. Ogart has sent word that he will have dinner tomorrow night either in Princess Clandaria’s quarters or in Hell. General Shabuke has implored our men to assure Ogart will languish in the latter.”
“Does the enemy know about this trail through the rocks, Captain?”
“Probably, but four hundred men, about half on horseback, cannot fit into the space in good order. Now hurry, child, back up the trail to the castle. If all else fails, the Palace Guard, small in numbers, but strong in heart, will deal with any intruders who might penetrate the royal grounds.”
Ariana drew her cloak closer against the morning chill and hurried up the trail. She had encountered Ogart the Horrible two years earlier, when her father’s caravan was raided by Ogart’s soldiers on the plain near Lutholda. Her father and his men had been slain. Ariana had squeezed into an abandoned wolf’s den and escaped. Her everlasting memory of horror was the sight of Ogart’s soldiers carrying away her beautiful sister, Melanthia. Word had drifted across the plain that when campaigning, Ogart, too corpulent to ride horseback, kept Melanthia, now sixteen, chained in his carriage for his entertainment..
She pondered the circumstances. The baronies of Lutholda, ruled by Princess Clandaria, and Drubia, ruled by Prince Ogart, together comprised the vast mountain kingdom of Vestia. Vestia had been ruled many years by King Drax, father of both Clandaria and Ogart. Two weeks earlier, Drax had died suddenly. The law of succession dictated that the elder sibling, Lady Clandaria, be crowned ruler of Vestia. Ogart the Horrible, declaring he was male and therefore the rightful King, advanced on Lutholda immediately
* * *
Princess Clandaria, seated at a small altar to the gods of the temple, the room lit only by a single candle, looked up sharply at the soft entry of the tiny Ariana. “Heavens, child, you should announce yourself. How did you avoid the Palace Guard?”
Ariana’s wry smile was lost in the near darkness. “Little creatures require little space, M’lady, and the guards are concerned with more dangerous visitors.”
Princess Clandaria, her beautiful, bottomless brown eyes slowly being flanked by the tiniest of wrinkles, drew Ariana close. “Thank the gods you returned safely.”
Hesitantly, Ariana improved on the captain’s prediction. “M’lady, the captain of the guards seems confident of containing the invaders, as you did before I joined your household.”
Princess Clandaria continued to hold the small body close. “Your presence has been a godsend beyond my fondest hopes. I’ve never married, and you became as if a child of my own. And now...”
Ariana studied the Clandaria’s troubled face in the dim light. “We will survive, M’lady.”
“If not child, I’ll be taken to the headsman’s block at Eschambi. You will... if Ogart desires, join your sister in his harem.”
Ariana shuddered at the words. Below on the plain, sounds of battle wafted up. Princess Clandaria returned to her prayers. Ariana slipped away.
* * *
The sun was high when the battlefield grew quiet, save for the cries of the wounded. Down among the rocks, the ladies of the temple were moving about, tending the fallen.
Later in the day, Ariana again startled Princess Clandaria by appearing noiselessly. “Great god, child, your cloak is smeared... That’s blood!”
Ariana’s smile was radiant in the full light. She turned back, motioning a beautiful maiden into the room. “M’lady, my sister, Melanthia, free at last, has a gift for you.”
Ariana said softly as she bowed with a flourish, “Behold, Queen Clandaria, supreme ruler of the realm. Your brother, who would have had your own head, sends word on a head, bearing a symbol of our victory.”
“How—?
Ariana bowed deeply. “On close inspection, Ogart the Horrible rejected me as too small for his harem. My retort was sharp and irrevocable.” She raised a bone-handled dagger from beneath her robe. “Ogart will have dinner in Hell this evening. God save the Queen.”
Without speaking, Melanthia dumped the contents of a sack on the floor. Ogart the Horrible’s head rolled out, a “V” carved in the forehead,
Queen Clandaria studied the ghastly trophy, then swept both girls into a tearful embrace.
Copyright © 2022 by Gary Clifton
