The Scrolls of Belbou

“It does not matter now what you believe, captain. I am telling you this now because I believe you’ll be dead this day, as I will...that is what I believe. Whatever power over life Canasish has discovered, whatever strength he gave Malechar is hidden from us now, Anasha knows of Canasish and he of him. Anasha’s family has given us wisdom and knowledge of our entire existence. It was his ancestry that helped defeat Adofus, and believe me Anasha is as doomed as we are. Anasha is good, and such goodness can not exist with Canasish. He will have Anasha hunted down until caught.”

“After so many years, and there never has been an attempt at reconciliation?”

“Yes, we have tried. After many years when the exile was imposed, we sent emissaries to Froth. The first came back alive but blinded. The others had only their heads sent back. After a while, no one seen entering Froth was ever seen returning. Malechar was the first to ever come out of Froth. My God! Such pent up hate. Such dangerous hate to have waited this long until it became invincible.”

“My lord, are there no reports from our people on the continent that speaks comfort for us?”

“None. However, it has been overheard that once Malechar conquers us, he must return to Froth. Whether it is to be rejuvenated or to bring back Canasish in triumph, no one knows.”

A trumpet sounded loudly, even though it was in the distance. Malechar’s armada had been sighted and activity from Eden’s army intensified.

“Let every man do his duty, Captain Booter,” the king shouted. “We are the only light left in this darkening hour to the good people of the continent. Should we be snuffed out will be left to fate. But in our hand is our destiny as to how well we fight. Let the people know Eden fought with honor and with violence.”

The king watched his army move about, first in random movement, then settling into a disciplined manner. He was proud of these men as he saw them take their positions. They gathered about three hundred meters from shore along a wide plain area. Ten thousand warriors were awaiting the command to strike the enemy, to defend their homeland. He watched in inspired awe and pride.

To the left were two thousand of the men on horseback, and to the right another equal number. In the center stood the foot soldier armed with lance and sword. But each warrior was trained in the use of the bow and arrow. Should the attack falter from all three positions, they were to retreat back to the edge of the forest where these weapons awaited them. This was done under cover of the two thousand men in the center that stayed back to rain arrows upon the enemy. Malechar’s army may surpass them in strength and even in skill, but it would be a different matter fighting a moving enemy shooting arrows from the dark of the forest. The forest was their one true strength, perhaps it would be their one salvation.

King Bathen could see the boats approaching, and he guessed that within the hour the battle would commence. He knew his son was alive somewhere on the continent, and he was even glad not to have him here knowing death awaited him this day. His thoughts drifted to Anasha and the boys. It would take more then Malechar’s army to hunt them down if they fled from spot to spot within the forest. He remembered the joy his grandson gave him, and what pleasure it was to see him grow into a young man.