Mythlands: Mythical Origins

11. Death or Glory

*Note - this story is set during Book Two of The Heist. Slight spoilers - read Book Two first.

NEVER SURRENDER

It has been two years since the Fall of Cair Paravel, and three since the forces of darkness once more arose and swept across our lands, like an unstoppable plague.

At first we thought this return of the Dark Armies of the thrice accursed Jadis, White Queen of infamous legend, was but another challenge that our land would face, and overcome, even without the help of our lord Aslan, praise be his name.

But this rising was different - it was not just every dark entity that had ever been, from our land, but new evils ... I personally witnessed a great tentacled beast smash the parapets of he castle. Had it not been for the direct orders of my liege, the High King Peter, to direct the evacuation, I Reepicheep the mighty, Champion of Narnia, would gladly have flung my sword and knives against this titan. 

Yes it's true that this creature from the depths of the abyss, was some thousand feet tall whereas I am barely a foot high, but as Aslan is my witness, I would have found a way - perhaps I could have led my fellow talking mice to scale the beast before it crushed the walls - well placed sword thrusts even from our tiny blades would have blinded this Cthulhu and if a beast cannot see, then big as it may be, eventually it can be hacked at and whittled down to size.

Alas, that the High Kings rejected my petition to hurl myself into mortal combat with the enemy. May King Peter and King Edmund rest in peace ... I have sworn that Jadis will die by my blade.

Her and all of her strange outland allies - already I have dispatched the undead Count and his minions, although we lost my good friend Caspian during that endeavour. Bitten and turning, my poor poor friend begged that I end his suffering before he became that which he hated and turn against us. I must admit that the deed brought tears to my eyes, friends ... the heart of Reepicheep is a huge thing indeed and perhaps tis where I am most vulnerable.

That day, my heart ached, but rest assured, in a land over run with demonic forces, and so many of my compatriots fallen and the blighting of this land I love ... even after all this, though I may bend a little, Reepicheep will not break. 

I killed Dracula and I slew the monster Grendel. By my blade fell Baba Yaga and though I disdain the use of any firearm more advanced than the musket, once, with minimal aid from the sniveling Professor Ketteley, who I must grudgingly admit has some merit as a scientist ... well he created the silver bullets but twas Reepicheep who faced and overcame the so called Wolf Man ... aye and his pack. 

Every day now we face another threat and our band grows ever smaller, but we are holy warriors, who fight in Aslan's name and one of our monarchs still lives. One day the tide will turn, the rally cry will sound and all the talking creatures, the men of Narnia and Archenland ... all shall rise up, in the name of the true queen. Jadis shall finally die and I, mighty Reepicheep will ....

'Reepicheep! The perimeter ... we're under attack.'

I fling down my journal and I draw my sword in one swift motion. The blade of Narnia's champion of champions shall taste monster blood this day ... ah but I know my duty. Much as I, last of the Talking Mice wouldst fain begin at once a glorious counter attack, first I must ...

'To the Queen my lads. Secure her majesties person at all costs ... Trufflehunter, Mr Beaver, take Ketterley and the rest of the civilians, your squad to retreat through the north exit with Queen Lucy surrounded at all times. Bulgy Bear, is the way clear Captain?'

'It is Commander. Shufflers came across us during the night ... looks like an undirected herd but only a few tripped the bell wires.'

'Excellent ... then we face a horde of the dead, mindless creatures from across the borderlands. We shall follow the instructions of the outlander who knows of their kind. Where is he?'

'Right here boss mouse.'

I look up at the cross bow wielding scruff ... a good man to have in a fight, but still, even in the apocalypse there is no excuse to let standards of dress slip. Why I myself still maintain my neatly trimmed goatie, I polish my leather boots each night and keep my silk shirt, doublet, breeches and plumed hat in excellent repair.

'Walkers getting nearer.'

Darryl is already letting loose with his bow as the shufflers approach. Bah, tis little sport to dispatch such sorry foes, but still we must attempt to turn this horde away from the 200 civilians and find another spot to make camp later.

I call forward my centaurs. 'Roonwit, Cloudbirth ... a distraction if ye please gentlemen. Glenstorm, hoist me pon your back noble steed.'

Glenstorm knew my tactics well now ... we needed to kill the forward group of some forty or fifty ... barely a challenge, I know ... but we needed to dispatch them before the main herd arrived, so my men could change their directions.

'Foward charge right into their midst Lord Reepicheep?'

'Aye good Glenstorm,' I reply, grinning. An easy battle is better than no battle at all. 'Where are my giants??'

Bulgy shouted back to where our loyal giants were concealed under the thick growth of trees. All three emerged waving their clubs ... I hated to resort to using them as it made the skirmish even easier ... but if the herd wasn't turned, they would soon overtake our exhausted civilians and the queen. Besides if ... a part of me hoped it would be so ... if other, more thinking monsters, a boggle or ghoul or black dwarf mayhaps, were directing the shufflers, we would need our giants in case they had their own.

'Rumblebuffin! Wimbleweather! Stonefoot! Some fun for you my brave brave boys ... CHAAAARRRGGGEEE!!'

As we galloped towards the shuffling foe, my blade rang out and it almost felt like a threat ... five or six swarmed Glenstorm but between my sword, pistols and his war mace, alas it was barely dangerous.

Still, I cried out my usual battle charge .... DEATH OR GLORY!

And it ended all too soon - scarce a rush of the battle thrill. But dear journal, there is always more opportunity for glory and revenge lies ahead. Tomorrow is another day and if not then, the day after. I must curb my impatience for the fight!