They dug their trenches and set their traps, broken glass and rusty nails looming under the trenches which protected the walls, and if one would fail his climb and fall into their trenches, he would be met with spikes covered in the shit of their mounts, Yemna made sure of it, and throughout the whole process as far as collecting the rocks from the fields, she assisted them alongside her men, with each task she completed she was reminded of the impending battle, there will be either victory or death, no in between, no delay and no change of mind, and she would see it to the end.

  By the night of the third day, the stronghold gates were barricaded and its entrance covered with spiked obstacles, the rocks were at the walls and each person of age whom was not injured was given a spear and if there was not any to spare, they were given a pole, and those who were left with nothing were told to throw the rocks down the wall when the attack begins, they were not too pleased but they had no choice, while the imperial soldiers were instructed to not shoot their arrows at the Gahrak, as they would shoot them back, they were only allowed to shoot into the yard if the fort is breached. Truth be told they were lucky, the twin moon shined in a cloudless sky thus they could see what stood in the far distances, had they fought in a dark night it would have been much more difficult, there was little torches to use after all.

  She stood at the walls, a veil wrapped around her face whilst the unfortunate covered theirs with cloth, even the roaming hyenas in the yard were rather uncomfortable of the smell, at the bonfire they set pots and boiled their vile mixture of piss and manure, nothing shall go to waste, and all will be used, human or object, survival demanded it, and if they wish to live they will oblige.

  "My lady, should we not have used what water and oil we had, the folk are already disturbed enough. " Said lieutenant Hemacus. "This will only further discourage them. "

  "And then what? Will they drink and cook with piss afterwards? " She asked.

  "If we survive, the imperium is sure to send supplies our way once we send them a letter or a messenger. "He answered.

  "I see, surely that worked out for you very well, seeing that we are the only reinforcements you gotten. " She responded. "Even if they do receive your messages, how long until your supplies arrive? Will they cross death valley and the marshes safely without being ambushed by the Gahrak same as your scouts? And who's to say they would bother sending you food to an outpost who have almost no worth besides slowing their enemies down. "

  "I... Have not thought about that. " He admitted.

  "Your emotions and empathy and are in your way. " She criticized. "The sooner you be rational, the better. "

  Hemacus shrugged his shoulders, his scarred face gazing towards her as he asked. "Would you not feel anything for your people the same I do mine? "

  "I would. " She answered. "But I will not let it cloud my vision, I will avenge each one I lose for a hundred, and we will endure, for as long as we can and fight as hard as we can. "

  "They are still afraid. " Said the road warden as he made his way up the ladder and stood next to them. "No one can sleep, not even the soldiers. "

  She sighed, had it been her people they would have behaved differently, they became accustomed the Gahrak and the constant skirmishes and raids, they knew what to do and what to expect but those colonists in the marshes were useless miners, traders and the such, none held a sword or a spear before, but even an idiot can stab with a spear and throw rocks, that much gave her comfort and drove the fear away, fear was dangerous, far more dangerous than the enemy.

  "Fear is a plague. " She told them recalling on the words of her grandfather. "It starts with one anxious man, and grow it's roots down to his legs, then continue to spread through the ground and into the legs of those around him, it grips to them, keeps them down, prey open to the slaughter... Fear is a plague, same as any plague those who are infected shall either be treated early... Or cut off from the rest. "

  "What are you saying. " Hemacus' voice was sharp.

  "When things reach a breaking point, one of two things will wake them, either they will fear us more than the enemy, or be inspired. " She explained though she took no liking to his tone.

  Lucas stood in between them and spoke, taking the conversation to another track. "I'm a road warden, I know much about fear and it is not my favorite of talks, the marshes however are something of interest. "

  "Of course they are, mines of gold and silver, what is not to have interest in. " Yemna responded sarcastically.

  "What I know has something to do with gold... Have you ever heard of the Pololo? " He questioned.

  She bobbed her head to the side in confusion, unable to understand what he was referring to. "The what? "

  "Pololo." He repeated.

  Hemacus huffed and exclaimed. "An urban legend around here, its a small creature, head of an inbred adult man, small limbs and body, steals gold and eats it. "

  Yemna raised an eyebrow, they spoke of a bizarre creature which sounded to be the lie of a thieving child avoiding his punishment, she was not all too impressed as her land had its share of legends, both proven and unproven, such as Zator spirits, Raka, Tugh, and many of the sort, all equally disturbing in their own ways, she could not help but chuckle and mock. "That sounds idiotic. "

  "It is. " Hemacus said as he returned the laugh. "It is the word of thieving miners I reckon, but it's amusing to see how so many people believe it, a miner was once taken to court for stealing, and he blamed the creature, swore on his mother that he saw it with his own eyes, his mother died a week later. "

  Although she found his story too odd to be true, a laugh slipped her lips as she shook her head, if it was indeed true then the gods have a sense of humor, she told herself as she wiped her tears of laughter away, but the warden was awfully silent, he did not share on their laughs but instead he stared into the long distance, she looked to where he gazed and saw nothing, she wondered if they said something that had bothered him, he was a road warden after all and they believed in the unreal and the impossible, and often times they were correct, never thanked, never apologized to, so she put up her smile and addressed him calmly. "What about you warden? What do you think of this Poro—Pomo— Pololo ? "

  He looked at her thoughtfully, as if studying her face then looked forward once again as he responded. "The manual of the road warden speaks of this, in a sentence it addressed all myths, legends and the such. " He paused for a brief moment, his hand grabbing into the handle of the silver sword he wore at his side and added. "If enough people believe in something, be it true or false, then it will surely come to life, whether it is a beast to slay, a foe of a nation, a rumor, a legend, a wet nurse story... Or an idea."

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  An idea, that she understood, her father's dream of a united Tatar, or perhaps an ambition, at times she was unsure, but she was certain of one thing, she shared the same dream and hers came from an overwhelming hatred against those who took what was dear from her and threatened what she had left, she was silent, she did not reply to his words, but the warden spoke truth, and she would be wise enough to listen whenever he speaks next, lessons are hard to come by without a price, her mother told her when she was a stubborn little girl who thought she knew the world, sharp humbling words, she learned to be silent and listen when need be, from a friend, from a stranger and even a foe.

  "Here they come... " Hemacus exclaimed. "Soldiers! Imperium citizens! To the walls! "

  Hearing his words, she knelt down and picked up her chain veiled bone helmet and slide it upon her head before strapping it under her chin, and at her back she heard the steps of her guard as each took their positions at the walls, but she did not turn to look at them, instead she looked far and ahead at the distance, and there she saw them approaching in a long line, the Gahrak.

  Their bodies were thick in the legs and slender in the arms, they wore no cloth but the one covering their bugles or breasts for they did not need armor, they had dry green scales for a skin that stretched from limb to limb and from their heads to their tails, they were shorter than the average man and taller than the average woman, both their legs and hands were clawed, their skulls were oddly wide, and their chins were wider with fangs peeking out their mouths, emerald eyes, and no nose nor ears besides small barely visible holes, they were armed with weapons they stole off the dead or crafted with no finesse, and each had a buckle of their own and a short bow strapped to their shoulders alongside a hanging quill for arrows behind their waists, however their brutality did not end with their monstrous appearance, it continued with their minds and habits, for as they walked the ground shook under their numbers, they rode creatures that looked the same as them but walked on four, said to be their inbreed children, and ahead of their lines they presented their trophies and warnings.

  A barricade of wood, held by some of their own and carried ahead to serve as a wide shield, but that was not the part of its significance but rather what they tied to those barricades at the display of the world, men and women shaved and maimed, no hands, no feet, no ears, no nose, no cock and no breasts, all cut off and burnt off, eyes and mouth sewed shut, the more the army of the Gahrak closed in, the louder those muffled cries became, it spread terror through the fort walls, as Yemna began hearing the cries of those who recognized some of their own, she had known it would happen when she was told that some were carried off in the last attack but she said nothing, she would not put them down before the preparations were made, yet now they were broken, half froze, the other half either cried or dropped their weapons all together.

  "Hopeless! It is hopeless! " One of them said.

  "Gods, monsters, monsters were sent by the gods to punish us for our sins. " Another said.

  "They... They... They will defile us, they will rape.... They.... They—" a girl cried out as she clung into the rock she held.

  Yemna voice could no longer be held back, thus it rose, loud, firm and sharp. "No, they will not rape you, they are worse, they believe to be above humans, that we are a sickness to be rid of, however they will torture you, they will tear you apart and enslave your children. "

  "Then... What's the point of fighting, what will we do? All is lost, they're gonna kill us! " said the girl.

  "Yes, they will kill some of us, or many of us. " Yemna answered. "Unless we put up a fight, they think you are helpless and cornered, easy prey to put down, they think they are the top of the food chain, they brought you your own kin to show you what awaits you, but that will only happen if you do not fight for your lives! "

  "Fight for our lives? We have rocks, shit and piss! " A man protested and she could hear the hushed whispers of agreement.

  "Yes, that is all you have, but you can have so much more if you seek it, the human will to survive have never been exceeded by no creature nor beast through all corners of Osward. " Yemna shouted. "They expect a swift victory, prove them wrong! Pick up your arms and stand at the ready citizens of the imperium for I, your former enemy, princess Yemna of Asaroth, swear to you on the souls of my ancestors and the nameless men, that if we stand our ground we shall prevail against those monsters! Find your courage! Your will! Your vengeance for the homes and the people you lost! Kill as many as you can and even if you will die take down as many as you can with you to the stone gates of oblivion! Thrive on your vengeance! Thrive on the life that you still have! "

  What came about was silence besides the closing thudding against the ground, then the girl spoke."But if we lose... They... They will take me. "

  Yemna walked up close to her and knelt down looking her in the eyes, she was a young girl barely the age of Malynn, hazel hair and black eyes, pale skin and slender arms, she was shaking and her breath was shallow and quick, Yemna leaned ahead and whispered to her. "I promise you this, if the battle is lost, or you are taken away, I will take a spear and shove it through your back, I will end your life so they would not take their pleasure in your suffering... And if I am not alive to do so. " Yemna reached for her back and unsheathed her bone dagger then set it on the ground in front of the girl. "Then kill yourself. "

  She left her speechless and stood away to be at the walls once again, she was unsure if she had said the right words, but those were the words that would bring Yemna some relief if she so faced death against those abominations, with a sigh she turned her head and to her surprise, the girl was standing, the dagger wrapped tightly to her waist by a cloth, and in her hands she held a large rock, all eyes were on her, and those who once weep, took their positions in shame or found courage at the walls and brought up the pots by their ropes, they had found their will, they did not speak but each one vowed to uphold their part and that they would defend this fort to their last breath, and the twin moons of this night would be the witness of their vow, no half measures as the warden would say, and soon enough the battle began.

  As the Gahrak began shooting their arrows and scaling the walls, the defense force began throwing the rocks down at them, striking their archers and throwing down those who stabbed their claws into the wooden walls to climb so they would either fall on their kin or Into the trenches, and those who made it up far enough screeched and swung their swords but the spearmen responded by jabbing their weapons into their eyes, hearts and throats, Yemna could not recognize the screams of humans from the screams of the Gahrak but seeing that the beastly bodies piled up into the trenches made their climbing easier, she shouted. "Pour the liquid! Now! "

  At her command all sides of the walls poured down the pots against the monsters, what came was a unified shriek as she watched their flesh melt against the boiling feces and their eyes fall off their faces, those who made it up to the battlements took down a few before they themselves were put to the sword, either by the princess or her companions, and those who broke into the gates made it into the yard were met by a swarm of arrows and angry hyenas, either impaled to the ground or torn apart.

  While Yemna killed and fought, she lost track of the time as her body became heavier by each swing she took at her foes, and in her mind she wondered, who was she truly fighting for, her father, her mother, her sister, her brothers, her grandfather, or perhaps herself? Perhaps it was none of those, perhaps it was Asaroth and deep inside she suspected it to be much more, she feared the thought, that she grew empathy to those she called enemies before, to those who live in the land that was rightfully her people's land, she did not ponder much longer as once the ray of the morning light spilled it's bronze light across the horizon, the Gahrak began fleeing, though not many of them survived.

  She sighed in relief as those around her roared in victory and cheered, except for her and her silent guards whom all survived, she took off her helm which lost the color of the bone to a shade of red from the many she killed, the warden survived and so did the lieutenant, and despite the many bodies of the civilians who died, she was shocked to see the girl alive, though she was bloodied from head to toe, the girl made her way to Yemna and offered her the dagger back, which dripped with blood.

  "Yours, M'lady. " The girl told her.

  "No, keep it, you earned it. " Yemna responded, smiling to herself with an odd pride, she came a stranger to the marshes and won her first victory without the help of her father, commanding those who were not her people, she killed, she protected, she won and while it was a small win, to her it meant much more but she could not rid herself of the feeling that by the end of her journey, she might loose sight of the goals she once had, for the longer she looked at those who survived around her, the more she saw folk who had no choice but to be here but as her mother would tell her, a quick judge is a dead one, thus she will wait, she will carry out her role and she will watch and decide for herself, are those innocents and clean of the crimes that their leaders committed, or is the empire weak enough to be attacked.