Dagoth Castle stood silent that winter's morning. As
silent and brooding as the ocean boundaries that swept the jutting rocks along
the shore. As silent as the king as he paced in quiet deliberation within the
safety of his bed chambers. It had been weeks since he sent his troops in force
to deal with the mighty Eagle. Imagine the gall of the man! Even raising voice
to one that was ascending the High Throne was deplorable! Darius would have to
see to it that Rimerez Eaglesbane was properly punished when he achieved his
new office.
"My liege," a whisper from the shadows caused
Darius to halt. The king craned his head to the shadows in the corner of his
room and grimaced. Gathering his robes around him, Darius stepped closer to the
corner and beckoned to it.
"Enter, Moondark."
Black shadow gave birth to a living one, sprouting arms
and legs draped in velvet blackness and a head cloaked with a cowl like death itself.
The frail, dark skinned saevant stood motionless for a time, regarding the king
as Darius regarded him. "What is it, wizard. I did not summon you
here."
"I came in your interests, my liege," the
wizard replied.
"Careful what you think my interests are, saevant.
Remember the last man that thought he could anticipate what I wanted from
him."
"And you take care, my liege, that you think it is
so easy to threaten me. I told you the consequences of taking the council of
saevant. Why destroy the sterling reputation you have worked so hard to
achieve?"
"Speak your mind, wizard!" Darius growled at
him. Moondark smiled from behind the black of the cloak. The smile held no
humor in it.
"I have come to take you to Dynasty, my liege."
"What?" Darius blanched. The smile fell from
his face. He swiped a hand through tangled red hair, pulling it back out when
he ripped out a rather painful snarl. "Why would you bring me there? I
have sailing vessels fully capable of doing so. And did you not tell me that
your interference would bring other forces into our scheme?"
"I will take you there faster than any sailing
vessel ever could, my liege. As for the array of forces I spoke of, you must
not fear those. I think I might perform this task for you without problem. I
will form a gate so you might confront the High Father with his
treachery."
"Treachery?" Darius exclaimed, "He only
denied me for the sake of the other kingdoms, Moondark! He waits for me to
bring order to Umbriel!"
"That is the sole purpose of the High Throne, my
liege, to make order from chaos. The High Father has deceived you with his
dreams and letters."
"No! He came to me in my dreams, more than once! At
his command I besieged Southcross! At his command! He told me that he dare not
support me for fear of losing his position of High Father! What games do you
try playing here, saevant?"
"I think you should ask that of the Chosen, my
liege. I know not what type of game the High Father is delighting in playing
but he has played you well. You must now go to the island and take what is yours
by force. There is no other recourse for you to consider. My advice to you as
counsel is to gather a battalion of guards and force the High Father to give
you what you desire. That is your birthright."
"Blasphemy!" Darius spoke in an awed voice,
"Waging war is one matter. Storming Dynasty itself? Has such a thing ever
been attempted before?"
Moondark could tell by the look on Darius face that he
was giving the thought consideration. Smiling, the wizard said, "I do not
believe so, my liege. Scholars would look back on this day as a bold maneuver,
from a king who was not afraid to tempt the fates. You do not fear storming
Dynasty, I hope? After all, the High Father offered you this throne. It is your
right under the One to claim that offer. Else this war has been for naught."
"For naught?" Darius repeated. The sense of
betrayal made him sway where he stood. He found a chair near his desk and sat
down hard. The High Father, leading him like some puppet on a string? What game
was this? He couldn't bear the thoughts flitting through his mind. Victory
spoiled on the vine, leaving him bitter wine to savor.
"Bring me to Dynasty, wizard!" Darius roared,
throwing himself to his feet, hands clenched into fists of rage before him,
shaking, "Use your magic to bring me there! I will show the High Father
that Darius Steelbreeze is a man not to be trifled with!"
"Excellent, my liege. Gather a battalion, then. No
less than twenty armored soldiers if it pleases you, and bring them here in
secrecy when the sun has set and night fills the sky. Only then will I have a
gate prepared for you."
"You are a valued advisor, Moondark. Your council is
appreciated."
"You are kind with your praise, my liege,"
Moondark bowed deeply as the king exited the bedroom, closing the door behind
him. The saevant stood tall, watching the door intensely. Around him grew a
heat, making the air crackle. Waves of nearly visible heat rolled off of the
stone walls and floor. The plush carpet he stood on nearly burst into flame.
Moondark smiled sourly.
"Master," he said quietly.
"The human has taken my offer?" a disembodied
voice rumbled in the bed chamber. A mirror fell from the wall near the bed and
shattered.
"He gathers men now to march on Dynasty,
master."
"Good," it chuckled richly. The canopy to the
bed wavered, the curtains flapping on wind that didn't exist. "That is
good. Darius Steelbreeze will seize the throne of the One and then I will
finally have my freedom! Take care, wizard. You will allow nothing to come
between what I desire. Is that understood?"
"Understood master," Moondark replied. The
disembodied voice faded from the room, leaving only the lingering heat to mark
its passing. The saevant remained composed, only a tinge of anger making his
mouth curl some.
Throwing his hands into the air, the saevant began to
chant his magic.
"Gre' fel-me to maisane'!" he cried out, his
words rising and falling in hypnotic tempo, the same phrase repeated in a dozen
different pronunciations as the wizard called a powerful shield spell to him.
It cemented into place, something almost physical forming about his form,
whirling power that created a dome for him to seek refuge in. Resting only for
a brief moment, Moondark raised his voice for the next spell, calling the gate
into place.
It took only a day and a half to convince the people of
Hamla to stand at Jared's side after the night battle. Devlin Telba sword
alliance to the man, along with Kamil's father, Henry Fallis and Dougland
Shent. After that most of the young men, and the older as well, were quick to
join Jared Tombes ranks. His plan was simple in effect. Gather the people from
every village from Hamla to Tamantz, west of Dagoth, and storm the cliff side
fortress. The king would have only a fraction of his troops there, making it
the least defensible. Jared couldn't have hoped for more. Devlin allowed the
use of three of his heavy grain wagons for men to ride in and brought along his
two hardest workers when the small gathering, not yet an army, travelled north.
Karnov and Edgar Vallint led the trio of wagons along the highway that cool
winter night, making the pack horses canter without rest, pushing a line
straight for Nemway. Jared took the last of the three wagons toward Endrin,
where he knew people that would lend aid to them. He told Devlin as they parted
to seek Gadrin, a nobleman in that port city that had lent support to Jared in
the past. His loyalty to Dagoth was unswerving, Jared told the mayor of Hamla.
"If his dedication to the kingdom is so unswerving,
why is it that he would aid us?" Devlin asked him as the wagons sat side
by side on the highway. "Would he not report our gathering to the
king?"
"I said that he's loyal to the kingdom. He's not
fond of the current ruler, mind you. He was one of the first men to support me
with coin and weapons when I began my rebellion. You can trust him, lord
Telba."
Kamil Dravan and Benmont Grimnight rode with Jared, his
symbols of changing times in the land. In only one night and one panicked
battle Kamil had been transformed into Jared's figurehead, a focal point for
the masses.
"It's really quite simple if you think about
it," Jared explained to the red haired youth as they travelled the highway
to Endrin, "It is common knowledge that men rally to a symbol with more
ease then they do to a man. There are exceptions, of course, like Gabriel
Warrek, but since he's more than forty years dead I think you will have to do,
Kamil. People will respect a prince, even a bastard one."
"A prince?" Kamil repeated doubtfully. Benmont
growled lowly.
"Yes. You automatically claimed that title from the
moment of your birth, even if the king would never acknowledge you. You're a
prince of Dagoth. Inheritance of the throne falls to you. You or your
brother," Jared crooked a finger at Benmont but the big youth only stared
daggers at him.
"I would sooner die than sit on the throne that man
ruled from," Benmont retorted, his words dripping acid.
"I can respect that," Jared said without
looking at him.
In less than two weeks Jared had proven good on his word.
Many roused to his cause, standing behind the bastard heirs to Dagoth that were
hunted only because of who they were. The wagons grew more plentiful in that
time, gathering men to fight with them and supplies for battle. When Devlin
Telba met Kamil and the others on the highway east of Tamantz, their numbers
had swelled to nearly a thousand men. There weren’t enough weapons or armor to
supply all of the men that wanted to fight alongside the princes of Dagoth so
they carried spades or pitchforks, or any other number of tools that could be
made into a weapon. Devlin also brought along a surprise in the form of Julia.
The young priestess had followed after the caravan when they left Hamla by
herself.
"What would you do such a thing for, Julia?"
Kamil scolded her as the pair spoke in private the night after Devlin found
them. They were only a day away from Dagoth, and fires had been lit, if only to
show the king what was coming for him.
"I might be needed here, Kamil!" Julia shot
back angrily, but her face held a touch of embarrassment. There was only three
or four years separating the two of them, but that night it didn't feel like
that much to Kamil. Not much at all.
"How could you be needed here? Do you plan on
fighting with us?"
"Of course not!" Julia shot back, her face
going red as she recalled the thrill she felt from the battle at the church
steps months ago. No, she thought, she did not come here to fight. She followed
them to put herself to greater use. "I will be a healer for you."
"A healer?" Kamil repeated. Julia watched him
closely, ready to defend her point with all the fire she felt in her. This had
to be the right thing to do, she knew it.
"That sounds like a fine idea," Kamil told her
at last. Julia opened her mouth to argue point and clamped it back shut again.
A fine idea? Kamil said that? She smiled at him. Perhaps he had matured during
his journeys with Damien.
"I'm glad that you agree," she replied.
"I only know that the father was very useful. He was
a source of wisdom, and I'm glad he was there for me. I only hope that he's
well." Any more conversation was broken off by the sound of horses
trampling forward and men shouting battle cries. Kamil ran off from the wagon
where Julia and he were speaking, pulling his sword out in time to see men on horseback
racing across the camp, swords raised high in the air. Kamil slashed at one of
the soldiers as he galloped by and unseated him. Putting a foot in the stirrup
of the riderless mount, Kamil spurred the animal toward more soldiers.
Benmont Grimnight watched the riders come from afar. He
had ventured a little ways into the forest to sort out his thoughts. But mostly
he thought of Deila Shar. When the first sound of battle erupted from the camp
sight Benmont Sprinted back , leaping onto the nearest wagon back to get a
better view. There were soldiers in the camp sight, more coming still. Perhaps
hundreds, he guessed. Jared hadn't been so accurate in his account of how weak
the Dagothian forces were going to be.
Roaring an unintelligible cry, Benmont picked up and
threw a water barrel at the nearest rider, toppling him from the saddle. The
next thing he threw was himself, tearing another soldier from his steed and
burying him in the snow that peppered the ground. He grabbed the man by his
metal collar and slammed him to the ground once before bringing a closed fist
into the man's visored face. The thin iron mask crumpled in and the soldier
screamed. A second punch made him lie still on the ground. Not bothering to see
if he was finished, Benmont leapt up and charged another rider. The soldier
spurred his horse around aiming a spear at the big youth and letting it fly.
Benmont dropped and rolled forward, letting the shaft sail over his head and
coming up right in front of the man. A booted foot met his face when he stood,
however, making him stagger backward, clasping a hand over his nose. The rider
unsheathed a blade from his side and leveled it for Benmont's throat but never
had the chance to strike. An arrow found his back, punctuated by a sound like a
hammer striking stone. The rider groaned and fell from the side of his horse,
landing in a heap on the ground. A roaring crash made Benmont spin on his heel.
Dagothian soldiers had toppled one of the supply wagons, cutting the horses
free and fending off the host of men that charged in to reclaim their cargo. A
wall of steel formed at the front line of soldiers and they spurred their
steeds into a gallop. The attack was devastating, the farmers and merchants
that had flocked to Jared's battle cry breaking in any direction to keep from
being trampled or run through. The din of clashing blades erupted when men
turned back from their wild flight and met the riders charge. Screams quickly
followed as bodies fell into the snow, splashes of blood painting the ground shades
of red.
Benmont scooped his quarter staff from where it was slung
on the saddle of his horse and charged toward the rage of battle. Leaping over
an armored body that had a spear shaft protruding from the chest, he brought
his staff down hard on a soldier's gauntleted hand, sweeping the blade out of
it. The big youth rounded on the man, stabbing one end of the staff square in
the soldier's jaw. In a tumble of plate he fell from his saddle. The big youth
didn't bother to see if he were going to get back up or not, instead rounding
again to the sound of battle cried screamed in unison. He watched Kamil leading
a wall of mounted fighters, Devlin Telba and Jared right beside him, into the
row of soldiers. Sparks and cries of pain split the air when the men collided.
At least ten must have died at the initial impact, lanced or cut down on an enemy’s
blade. Then he saw Kamil emerge, sword hacking down, battering a rider that
defended his frenzied blows on the length of his shield.
"Form on me!" Kamil cried out as he fought on.
There was a grin plastered on his face as he screamed those words. "Form
on me and press back the enemy! Link to form a wall and press them back into
the forest!" Kamil slid off the soldier's shield with the last blow and
thrust in, putting paid to the man. Tugging back with a hoarse grunt, he
spurred his mount toward another cluster of the men, of his men, and rallied
others along the path to aid him.
"You'll do well, Kamil," Benmont said, turning
from the scene and searching out the nearest soldier to fight. On the edge of
the woodline, half hidden against a toppled wagon, the canvas tapered over its
surface torn ragged Benmont could see Julia administering to a pair of bloodied
men. One of them had a broken arrow shaft stuck in his thigh. From around the
side of the wagon a trio of soldiers appeared, the lead soldier still carrying
the flag of Dagoth. Hoisting his staff before him he sprinted through the ankle
deep snow for the men. Julia cast her gaze up from her healing, hands still
warm from the One's power flowing through them when she saw a cold stare
looking down at her. The soldier's armor glinted dully in the night sky as he
raised his sword and leveled it at her.
"Please," Julia pleaded with the man. She
swiped a lock of raven black hair from her face, eyes wide. "These men
cannot harm you. They are injured. Allow me to heal them."
"Kill them," the soldier growled. Julia gasped
as the two more men appeared from the wagon's side and held out spear shafts,
poising them for her chest. She was barely aware of the deep roar that issued
from the throat of a bear of a man that leapt at the first soldier. The long
staff he carried, glowing just the faintest hue of white, slammed down with
terrible force on the man's head. Even as that soldier flipped off of his feet
and hit the ground on his back Benmont was turning a spear aside, making his
way to the last of the trio. Benmont lifted a heavy boot for the soldier ahead
of him, catching him on the hip and making him stumble backwards. Without
really thinking he swung his staff to his right, pushing the soldier's spear
point toward the ground. Pulling free of Benmont's counter the soldier slashed
the point for his head and spun low with the other end, aiming for his knee.
Benmont blocked the steel point on the middle of his staff but failed to
deflect the second strike. Pain flared up his leg as he dropped to a knee,
gritting his teeth. The soldier stepped back and thrust again, meaning to bury
the point into Benmont's throat. Rolling off his right, Benmont stood, leaning
on his good leg and struck the man's side, then his head, tearing the helmet
off his head. Benmont turned, staff gripped feverishly in hand, as the last
soldier stood to his feet, spear buried in the ground like a crutch. Leaping
forward, the big youth tackled the man, staff smashing through the spear's
wooden haft, and they landed on the ground rolling over one another.
Benmont ended up on the bottom, the soldier's mailed hand
smothering his face, pushing with painful strength against his chin. The other
hand pinned his staff to the ground. The soldier periodically shook the big
man, making stars start to blur in his vision. Groping with his free hand,
Benmont clutched a stone frozen in the earth, big enough to palm in his hand.
He fought to pry the rock free while his throat constricted. Blood thundered in
his ears. Taking the rock in hand, he brought it up with murderous force into
the soldier's head. There was a sound akin to a bell ringing and the man went
slack and fell over on him. Pushing the slack body from him, Benmont staggered
to his feet, shaking his head to clear the white dots that danced in his
vision.
A strangled cry from behind him made him start and spin
around. A soldier fell into the snow almost at his feet, his armor cloven open
from a keen blade. Jared Tombes stood there, mist clouding from his half open
mouth as his shoulders rose and fell heavily.
"No man has eyes in the back of his head,
Benmont," Jared told him as he sheathed his sword. Benmont glowered,
ignoring the pain in his throat and knee and swept snow off of his clothes.
"Is the battle over, then?"
"Indeed. Kamil did an excellent job of routing the
Dagothians. There is no doubt that he has royal blood in his veins."
"Don't remind me, Jared," Benmont shot back,
making his way to where Julia had been tending to the injured men. She wasn't
far, using her healing energies to seal cuts and make purplish bruises vanish
from injured flesh. She was clearly taxing herself, though. Beads of sweat
glistened on her forehead and her legs wavered while she walked about the
injured. Kamil was there for her, putting a strong arm around her shoulders and
draping a cloak over her for warmth.
"They be gone, master Kamil," Karnov told them
as the old man sat on a fallen tree, wrapping a thick piece of cotton bandage
around Dougland Shent's waist. Dougland had taken a spear in battle, slicing
his stomach open. Others were not so fortunate. Edgar Vallint, the mildly
retarded farm hand at the Telba manor, had performed one last service to his
lord. He took an arrow meant for the elder Telba, piercing his heart and
killing him almost instantly.
"They're gone," Henry Fallis reported as he
rode back to the camp with a dozen scouts that had pursued the soldiers into
the forest. "I would guess that they're still galloping for the castle
with their tails between their legs." Appreciative laughter echoed from
those listening. It stopped when Kamil raised his hand. Julia clung to him,
breathing deeply as she tried to find more strength.
"Karnov, would you please find someplace for the
lady Julia to rest?" The old man nodded standing from the fallen tree and
extending a hand for her to take. Julia glared at Kamil.
"I still have people to heal, Kamil. Many men
suffered today. I can relieve their pain."
"There will be more pain come this time tomorrow,
sister. You need rest. Please."
Julia fixed him with dark eyes for a moment, "Very
well," she told him quietly. As the priestess made her way off with Karnov
Kamil cast his intense gaze over the crowd of men.
"You fought well this night. I am proud to stand and
fight at the side of men such as you," More appreciative voices rose from
the crowd, "I know that when the battle comes tomorrow, we will face it
together. We will have our freedom, or we will die as heroes!" Cheers rose
up from the back of the gathering, gaining in strength as the cheer infected those
toward the front. Kamil unsheathed his sword and held it overhead, letting the
steel glint in the pale stars. Whatever he might have side after that was lost
in the roar that the men let out, chanting praise for their victory and their
leader. In the shadows of the tree line Jared and Benmont stood watching in
silence.
"I think Kamil found a purpose," Jared noted,
"He plays the role of leader with uncanny ease. What will you do after
this madness has come to an end, Benmont?"
"I never bothered to look that far ahead. I only
know tomorrow."
"And what is tomorrow?" Jared questioned.
"Retribution."
"Retribution?" Jared remarked, "Or
vengeance? I heard what became of your mother Adrianna, Benmont. Take care to
know the difference, warrior."
"I don't care to hear your words, Jared. I followed
you here to start this rebellion. You have what you wanted from us. What does
it matter to you?"
"Is that bitterness in your tone, Benmont Grimnight?
Do you think that I followed you north to use you? If that were true, then it
might be said that you, in turn, used me. You came along when you realized that
you might have the chance to slay the king, is that not so?"
"I came to lend my aid to you, Jared," Benmont
growled at him.
"Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?"
Jared questioned. Benmont only turned from him, arms folded over his broad
chest. His green eyes glittered dangerously.
"Double the watch tonight and prepare the
wagons," Kamil commanded the men who stood about him, "We will move
on Dagoth come first light."
The castle of Avalon stood like a giant pillar of white
light at the peak of a hill, no other fortifications around it. The sun was
just beginning to set on the horizon and the castle was alive with both light
and men. Soldiers of the Eagle lined the walls of the thick walled fortress,
congesting the cobblestone streets of the city that dwelt inside the walls. To
the south underneath the flag of the flying eagle, there was a trail of
devastation. Smoldering ruin was left in the wake of Darius's army. The Eagle
had known of the marching troops ever since they had passed the Crossing and
sent battalion after battalion to delay them with hit and run tactics until his
largest forces could be recalled from the frozen north. But even the mighty
Eagle didn't anticipate the speed and strength with which the Dagothian
soldiers would strike. Forests burned beyond the southern flank of the black
mass of armored troops that gathered at the base of the castle. Engines of war
dotted the broken plains from the first day of conflict, ballista missiles and catapults
armed and ready. Bonfires shown on battering rams pulled by draft horses.
Rimerez Eaglesbane stood upon a turret high above the
carnage, assessing the best course of action for the coming conflict. He was an
older man, perhaps older then seventy, with a clean shaven face and cropped
silver hair that was hidden beneath the golden crown he wore on his brow. His
armor was also golden, with black leather straps and belts to decorate it. The
symbol of a flying eagle in black was chiseled onto the chest plate, the
majestic bird diving low for the kill. A heavy two handed sword hung at his
waist, an heirloom from his father. The sword was forged of shalt steel.
Scholars debating the vaunted metal said that it could not be broken by normal
means. Rimerez sometimes wondered what could be accounted for normal. Now was
one of those times.
He wagered that Dagoth's soldiers were going to wage a
night battle to test his might. He would have had his whole council with him on
that turret, but many had died in the battle earlier that day. A well aimed ballista
missile shattered stone on the western end of the castle walls, right where the
council had been in session, discussing tactics. Four were dead, two more
injured and resting. Come morning, the Eagle would ride at the head of his army
to meet his enemy with the hill as his advantage. He wanted to show his men
that he was no less important simply because he held the title of king. If the
One deemed that it was his time to die, then so be it. He had lived his life
for his kingdom.
One of his soldiers cleared his throat from the stairwell
to get his attention. Rimerez craned his neck to look at the soldier with
steely eyes. What is it?" he asked.
"Scouts report more troops to our north, my
lord," the soldier stated, bowing low to one knee and lowering his head
respectfully.
"Troops marching north of us?" Rimerez arched
an eyebrow, "How is it that we failed to see them sooner?"
"They ride winged steeds, my lord. I think that they
are riding gollum."
"Gollum?" The gollum were enormous birds that
had blue and black colored feathers adorning their bodies. The birds lived
north, in the Canvese Mountains and tended to grow to nearly forty feet in
length. It was well known to the armies of the Eagle that the ageless sometimes
used the giant birds as steeds to mount attacks.
"Cowardly ageless!" Rimerez slammed a mailed
fist into the stone banister of the turret, "It would seem fitting that
they choose to mount such a bold attack when we are already in such peril. Send
word to the battalion commanders. Tell them to circle the catapults north along
with three battalions of archers. Go now!"
"Yes, my king!" the soldier ran back down the
stairs to relay the message that the king knew would be too late. The gollum
were swift animals. If they had been spotted then they would be upon the castle
in moments, along with the ageless. A rushing wind blasted the king of Avalon
from where he stood and dark forms flew over the turret, dozens of them. It was
more gollum in one raid then Rimerez had ever seen. Sighing deeply and drawing
steel from his hip he readied to do battle.
"Come and face me then, cowards!" Rimerez
screamed from the turret, waving his blade over head in a challenge. To his surprise,
the gollum flew by him and the battered castle, the enormous birds sweeping low
ahead of it, bringing them into attack position on the Dagothian soldiers. The
field below became chaos as the ageless launched long hafted spears down and
dropped rocks half the size of a human body onto tents and men. A second wave
of nearly twenty gollum swooped down as human soldiers took up bow and arrow, letting
the speeding shafts fly at the birds and their masters. The second wave
deposited soldiers onto the ground, men bearing the symbol of Avalon on their
breast. The campsite became alive with battle, the ring of steel hammering on
steel reaching even Rimerez where he stood.
"What manner of trickery is this?" Rimerez
exclaimed, watching with disbelief as ageless and human alike fought to defend
the walls of Avalon. So enthralled was he that he failed to notice one last
gollum hover above him, the great dark bird waiting in silence as the ageless
rider reined it lower.
"Rimerez Eaglesbane!" a shout came from the gollum.
The king spun about with his blade outstretched. An ageless warrior rode at the
front of the saddle, the only man large enough to control the reins. Two humans
sat behind him. One of them, a dark haired man as tall as the king that
appeared to be in his late twenties shouted the king's name a second time.
"What is the meaning of this? What in the name of
the One is happening here? Why is it that the ageless fight on our behalf, or
is this another clever tactic that their elders have devised?"
"No deception, your majesty! I am Damien Alohm and
this is Kirstin Telba! I have come to lend you aid!"
"Kirstin Telba?" Rimerez mouthed, "Is that
not one of the three children that Darius Steelbreeze seeks? How in the world
did you find alliance with the ageless? What do they have to do with
Dagoth?"
"I have been pondering that for some time now!"
Damien yelled over the beating of the gollum's wings, "And I think that I
was sent north to find an end to this war so you can fight the real enemy! Even
now an army gathers near Dagoth, seeking to overthrow Darius! They will need
the strength of the Eagle if they are to make any victory a lasting one!"
"Who sent you here, Damien Alohm?" the king
demanded.
"Is it not enough to know we are here to help? I
will tell you all when there is time! For now let your eyes tell you if you
should believe my words or not! Look below!" Rimerez did so, seeing the
battle field spreading as the gollum suffered losses, making the giant birds
dump their passengers to the ground where a fierce melee was erupting.
"Please, your majesty!" Damien pleaded with
him, "Strong as they are, the gedra cannot hope to fight Dagoth alone!
Will you not give the order for your troops to aid them?"
"Bold words, man!" Rimerez shot back, "but
what if this is deception?"
"Then keep me here!" Damien told him, leaping
off the gollum and landing at the edge of the turret. Kirstin gave him a
disheartening cry and leapt off after him. Guards appeared in the stairwell,
drawing swords out as fast as they could manage, closing the distance between
these newcomers and their king.
"Hold!" Rimerez told the guardsmen, sweeping a
hand out toward them. The guards stopped, lowering their swords but keeping
keen watch on the pair. Rimerez approached them, sliding his own sword back
into its scabbard as he did so. His gaze was stern, but studious.
"Send word to all of the battalions guarding the
southern and eastern walls to open the gates and lend aid to our allies. Our
men are fighting out there for us and they will need our support! Send the
cavalry first and follow with lancers! I also want all of the archers routed to
the south wall! Go!"
"Yes, your majesty!" the guard swiped a salute
and ran down the stairs, leaving two more to defend the king if need be.
"I have put faith in you, Damien Alohm, though I
could not say why. I will pray that my faith is rewarded justly."
"I thank you, your majesty," Damien bowed
respectfully to the man, Kirstin quickly followed; "It seems that your
legendary wisdom is no rumor." Rimerez smiled at the compliment, turning
back and leaning over the stone rail to look at the battle below. A wave of
mounted riders galloped down the hillside, lances pointed out, shields forming
a moving wall ahead of them. Dozens of men fell to Avalon's cavalry. Swift as
they struck they passed, merely opening a path for the lancers to stream in.
Footmen with nine foot long spears charged into the fray, impaling mounted
adversaries, skewering men that challenged them on even ground. Many raced in
to lend their fellow soldiers aid. Neither did they hesitate to rally to the
ageless' defense; such was their king's command. The sky overhead became alight
with flaming arrows that streaked across the night, planting themselves in the
heavy wooden war machines, making those on the battle field clearer targets.
The second volley was lethal, piercing armor and flesh, dislodging riders from
their steeds and dropping men where they stood. Most of them never even cried
out.
As the king watched the melee from the vantage point of
the turret another gollum rose before him. Two ageless rode on the long leather
saddle that strapped below the animal, one of the ageless quite old by the
looks of him.
"Damien Alohm!" the elder called out,
"There is something that you should know!"
"What is it, elder?" the priest called back.
"There is a great disturbance on the island of
Dynasty! I fear that it has something to do with the saevant!"
"What is the meaning of this?" Rimerez demanded
of the ageless, "You speak of Dyansty conveniently, ageless! How would you
what happens there, unless you are performing your magic!"
"Some eyes do not open as quickly as others do, king
of Avalon!" was all the elder said to him before shifting his gaze back to
Damien. "I fear that the man you say is after the High Throne has made his
move! Did you not tell me that he has a saevant as an ally? It would be child's
play for a saevant to bring enough magic to transport Darius to the
island!"
"Then there is no time to waste!" Damien
shouted back, "We must journey to Dynasty and confront Darius before he
can have the Ritual of Unity performed on him!" Damien made his way to the
gollum that waited for him and heard the king of Avalon call out.
"Where are you going now, Damien Alohm? You come to
my castle and offer me your army only to flee for Dynasty? That is a holy
island, man, not to be tread upon by any man that is not given an invitation.
Darius Steelbreeze will never make it inside the cathedral, much less to the
chamber where the ritual is performed!"
"I have seen many evils committed in this man's
name, your majesty," Damien spoke lowly, with reverence, "I do not
think it matters to this man any more if he commits one more sin in the name of
power. Truth to tell, I could not say what matters to this man any
longer."
"Go," Rimerez told him, waving an arm toward
the edge of the turret, "I cannot even begin to fathom what this all
means, but I will trust that you shall return to Avalon so I might hear this
story."
"I will pray for your success this day, your
majesty. I will return to tell you my tale, I swear it." Without another
word Damien and Kirstin mounted the gollum again and the ageless spurred the
beast off to the south, to Dynasty. A third gollum joined the pair, presumably
with more of Damien Alohm's companions riding on it.
Rimerez Eaglesbane watched the gollum fly off, then let
his eyes drift to the battle below. His second and third battalions were
already forcing their way into the enemy’s right flank. The battle would last
for hours with so many men fighting on the field. Thousands of men, human and
ageless alike killing and dying almost at the walls of his castle, his Avalon.
Could he have been wrong about the ageless? He felt like some novice politician
that had just been played in court. Closing his eyes from the slaughter below
him, the Eagle prayed for Umbriel, and for those that held its fate in their
hands.
The doors of Darius Steelbreeze's bedchambers burst wide
open and Benmont Grimnight charged in, quarter staff poised before him. The
stone room was broad and filled with fine furniture...and utterly empty. Darius
was not there, nor was he anywhere in the castle. Kamil's forces had broken
through by midday, besieging the weakened castle and raging battle through
every hall. Even now he could hear clashing swords and men screaming as they
found death embracing them. He had his fair share of death this, killing every
soldier that stood against him. Every man he removed was a step closer to
reaching the king. But now, sweating, clothes soaked with sweat and blood, the
king vanished from his own castle. Benmont could almost laugh at the king
abandoning his people in their final battle if the thought didn't make his
blood boil in his veins. Bile filled his throat and he howled at the ceiling,
clenching his fists and throwing his quarter staff to the floor.
He could hear voices behind him. One of them was Kamil's.
The other was a woman's voice. Looking back, half expecting to see Kamil enter
with Julia, he saw the young warrior step into the bedchamber with an older
woman, dressed in a deep green gown with her hair pulled back into a bun. She
was pretty, in a sophisticated way, and probably old enough to be his mother.
"I told you that you would not find Darius
here!" Omalda Tonse jerked her arm free of Kamil's grasp. With both hands
free she fought to tidy herself, smoothing her skirts and pulling loose strands
of hair from her face.
"Where did the king go, woman?" Kamil barked at
her, making her start, "If you are one of his council like you claim, then
you must know where he went!"
"He gathered men to him this afternoon, a battalion
of twenty guards. He did not say what he needed them for! The last I saw of the
king was a floor below this. He was heading for his bedchambers dressed for
battle!"
"Dressed for battle?" Benmont growled. He
stalked toward her and the woman shrank back, eyes growing wide with fear.
"Quit lying to us! I'm tired of being lied to and played! You tell me what
I want to know or I'll kill you!"
"Benmont!" Kamil shouted at him, standing in
front of Omalda and spreading his arms out, "You will not! I will not
allow you!"
"You are right, Kamil," Benmont let his rage
simmer, feeling the heat inside him lessen when he fought for control. Kamil
suddenly tensed, his gaze going behind Benmont to the bedchamber.
"Did you hear that?" he asked.
"Hear what?"
"Follow me," Kamil motioned toward the room,
"And take her." Benmont scooped up Omalda who protested at such
shabby treatment but fell silent when the big youth glared at her. Kamil made
his way over to an immense curtain that covered the wall, draping from one side
to the other. A faint hum filled the room for only a second, and then was gone.
"It came from back there," Benmont noted. Pointing
at the curtain, Kamil stepped closer and took the curtain's rope in hand,
pulling it until it fully opened. All three of them gaped at the wall of
absorbing black that covered it. That was the only way to describe it. The wall
hummed again, and this time a vacuum accompanied the hum. Strong winds picked
up, tearing at them, trying to bring them into the lightless void beyond the
wall. Benmont threw Omalda back out of the bedroom and was plucked off of his
feet. He was hurled backward, sailing like some poor misshapen leaf on an
autumn breeze. Kamil had his sword out in a heartbeat, slamming the point into
the wall between blocks. A bed hurled over him, followed shortly by the king's
desk and a coat stand as long as he. End over end they vanished without noise
in the black void, disappearing when they touched the almost glossy surface.
Benmont clutched to Kamil for all he was worth, tearing the youth's furred
cloak. Kamil fought for his grip as the curtain rolled up, plush red flinging
itself in a disheveled heap into the blackness. Another tear filled Kamil's
ears and then Benmont was gone, pulled into the void along with the ragged
cloak.
"Benmont! No!" Kamil roared silently, the void
consuming his words as well. Then he could hold on no longer, numb fingers
releasing the blade and the vacuum taking him into the pool of black. A
freezing chill embraced him like the fingers of death and his senses left him.
A flashing light like a great, far away beacon beamed somewhere, closing in on
him. Then there was nothing.
No comments:
Post a Comment