Raven's Soul. Volume 1
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Chapter 3
The war between Flammehav and Kaldwind broke out three days after Varma, the demon queen, received the bloody severed head of the ambassador. This war was merciless, brutal: blood poured down in rivers, cities were wiped to dust, the bodies of the slain covered more and more devastated lands. But all this horror did not touch the kingdom of men – it was burning and turning into ruins proud and powerful Flammehav. Demons, who started this war and previously had no doubt in their success, suffered defeat after defeat, and this led them to terror, but excessive pride and hatred of people forced the king of demons Lamar to continue the desperate war, which cost hundreds of thousands of lives of his subjects.
On the first night that the demons attacked what they thought was the defenseless border town of Kaldwind Valdal, their attack was easily repulsed by an experienced heavily armed garrison. The very next day many strong reinforcements of horsemen, archers and infantry men arrived in the town, and from that day the fall of Flammehav began. In three and a half months Derek Merkswerd's army had invaded the lands of the enemy, destroyed most of the demons' defenses, left behind the ruins of many cities and the corpses of their enemies, and was now conquering the still vacant remnants of the Fire Kingdom's lands, sparing neither women nor children, taking no prisoners, and plundering houses, temples, and palaces. Since the King of Kaldwind hated demons and everything associated with them, his warriors were given permission to pillage, rape, and kill. The humans were physically weaker than their enemies, but, perfectly trained in the art of battle and with strict discipline on the battlefield, they had a great advantage over their overconfident foes and mowed them down like wheat. King Derek did not hide behind the backs of his warriors and participated in every battle, for which he had the unending respect and loyalty of his large grateful army.
King Lamar of Flammehav could not find a place for himself: unlike King Kaldwind, who led his army with his own hands, this demon hid in his palace, together with his wife and daughter, and only helplessly watched as his lands fell, inch by inch, city by city, under the onslaught of his enemies. And what enemies! The people he had always considered weak, pathetic, despised, and whose race he was about to wipe off the face of the earth when he himself had declared war on their king, Derek Merkswerd! Almost without leaving the huge, red-lit hall, sitting on his high, elegant throne, Lamar was desperately trying to think of a way to take back his lands, but all his plans and orders were only making things worse. And the king knew that the reason for the fall of Flammehav was himself: it was he who did not consider it necessary to teach military tactics and training to his army or himself, because the demons had enough of their magic, which terrified their enemies. Before his army was indestructible, but not because his warriors were skillful, no: the reason for this greatness was their magic. Demons could inspire his enemies anything: penetrating their thoughts, they ordered them to kill their friends, and then themselves, telekinesis taking away from the enemy his weapon, whether it was a sword, axe, mace or knife, they directed it at the owner. Demons had never had to fight physically, for the deadly weapons were their magical skills. But now that, for some inexplicable reason, demons could not kill their enemies with magic, could not penetrate their minds and send fireballs at them, the humans and King Lamar himself were faced with a pitiful sight: the Flammehav army was nothing more than an ordinary collection of awkward individuals who had never held a real weapon. Yes, they were stronger than humans and more agile, but that didn't save them from the professionalism of Derek Merkswerd's rage-obsessed army. Demons were unable not only to destroy the enemy, but also to defend themselves and their homeland from him. These proud creatures, previously unknown to defeat, fell at the hands of mortal men like flies at the hand of a giant. The remnants of Flammehav's army and population, streaming into the capital city of Roevann in search of refuge, were gripped by despair and the sheer terror of being exterminated, which was indeed the goal of their enemy. They pleaded with King Lamar to offer peace to the people, but he stubbornly stood his ground, unwilling to humiliate himself in his own eyes. After all, who would he be, the proud powerful Lamar Rossi, if he signed a peace treaty with the enemy? It will not happen! There is still hope! His army will never give up the great capital of Roevann to the wretched mortals! And, filled with refugees who had lost everything, wounded men screaming in pain, and children screaming in terror, R?vann prepared for battle.
– Father!" young Sylvia, Lamar's daughter, burst into the throne room in a whirlwind. Her beautiful red eyes burned with indignation. – This has gone too far! The men have surrounded Ruwann! They stand beneath our walls, ready to wipe us off the face of the earth!
– I know that," he replied tiredly, lifting his head and looking at his daughter. – But do not lose hope: soon we will find out what prevents us from using magic, and we will drive these mortals away from R?vann, then we will regain our lands, and then we will rush into Kaldwind like a bloody tornado. The people will pay for every life taken from my subjects.
– Father, do you hear yourself? – Sylvia said quietly. She walked over to her father, knelt down in front of them, and took his palm in hers. In her nineteen years she knew that pride was the worst counselor. – I beg… I beg you: go to the king of men and ask for peace.....
– Never! Sylvia, my daughter… You know they are not worthy of it.
– Unworthy or not… It doesn't matter!" Sylvia stroked his hand and smiled bitterly: "Now is not the time to hold on to our pride and former greatness. Soon enough, the humans will attack, and we won't be able to repel them and defend ourselves. You know that.
Lamar turned his face away from her and said nothing.
– Father? – The girl called softly again.
– There is nothing we can do now," he said in a confident tone. – Let them attack. Soon their defense against our magic will fall, and we will destroy them. We will wipe out every human being, down to the last infant, and turn their land into a desert.
Sylvia knew her proud father's temperament, and she foresaw that he would respond to her request for peace with the enemy in this way. But she did not lose hope, because she knew: if he did not compromise his pride, the race of demons will be exterminated and will be just a story, just a terrible tale that people will scare their naughty children.
– You've been saying that since the war began, but we've never found out what secret the humans are keeping and how they stole magic from us," she said softly.
– Go to your chambers," Lamar ordered her instead of answering: his daughter's words, so true, were burning his mind with hot coals.
– Father, go to the king of men. Go before they attack…" the girl began, but her father released his palm from her hand, rose abruptly from his throne, and hurried out of the hall.
Lamar did not want to listen to his daughter. He was sure that his spies would bring him happy news, and he had no intention of going to the world. His wife, who was as proud as she was arrogant, supported him and said she was sickened by the thought of even nagging pathetic people for peace. And only their daughter realized that as soon as the human army surrounding the walls of R?vann received reinforcements, (for the capital of Flammehav was difficult to take, even though it could not defend itself with magic) a battle would begin that would be the last for the once prosperous and majestic demon kingdom. But Sylvia was only a young girl, and while her father had always listened to her opinion in matters of politics and running the kingdom, this time he would not consider anyone's opinion, not even that of his favorite daughter. And the Flammehav heiress knew that her father's stubbornness would lead them all to their inevitable doom, but she could not change his decision.
***
– Reinforcements have arrived, Your Majesty," Bergil announced loudly as he entered the king's large black tent, where he and his warlords were discussing a plan to capture R?vann.
There was merriment in the human camp: the warriors knew that after they had destroyed R?vann, slit the throats of everyone they could get their hands on, hung the bodies of the Rossi family – the lords of Flammehav – and taken with them all the vast wealth of the royal palace without leaving even a copper coin, they would cleanse Vakkerland of demons, those vile Satanic spawn. They will do all races a great favor and be glorified in songs and ballads for all ages. Besides, back home in their native Kaldwind, their wives and children are waiting patiently for them.
– How many? – Derek tossed to Bergil, standing surrounded by the men of war.
He had no map of Flammehav, nor did any of the other kings of Vakkerland, for none of them had been able to cross the borders of the demon kingdom that terrified their enemies until now. Derek Merkswerd – King of Men was the first and last to reach the walls of his capital.
– Thirty thousand, my king! – shining like a polished coin, Bergil replied.
– Excellent. Just think: perhaps tomorrow we will free the world from demons! – The king laughed, and his commanders shouted with one voice: "Hail Derek, King of Kaldwind!".
– Shall we attack tomorrow, then? – He commanded a large force of spearmen and was terribly proud of his friend's confidence in him.
– Yes, tomorrow," confirmed Derek.
– Must it be at dawn? – One of the warlords asked.
– No, noon. The warriors need to sleep and rest. The demons don't stand a chance anyway. They don't even have a single cannon. Fools never thought they'd have to defend their cities from their enemies," Derek smiled mockingly.
– Lead us, our king! – Bergil exclaimed. – We will follow you to both Hell and Heaven!