by R A Oakes
When the women just stood there looking at him, he said, “It doesn’t make any sense to me either, but Tark says Lord Daegal knows what Chen did.”
“I want everyone to bring her bow and plenty of arrows just in case we do have to shoot our way out of here,” Andrina said wearing a grim expression.
Within a few minutes, the warrior women were assembled, and the whole group stepped out into the hallway. This was one grim, hostile bunch of women itching for a fight. Fortunately, they made their way down to the stables and saddled their horses without incident.
When all 75 warrior women, mounted on black stallions, approached the main castle gate, the slightest spark of trouble would have ignited the entire group into action. Hundreds of arrows would have flown in all directions within a matter of seconds. Lord Daegal’s warriors would have died by the dozens almost instantly. Chen’s own warrior women could have also sustained casualties. One never knows for certain what will happen when the dogs of war are unleashed, which is both the intoxicating elixir of battle and the tragedy of it all.
A lesser woman than Andrina might have been tempted to fight her way out of the castle. Often times, inexperienced or reckless warriors can’t resist the desire for violence. For them, confrontation can become more important than strategy. But Andrina had seen enough death to last her a lifetime and took no pleasure in killing.
She was focused, instead, on one rational goal, leaving the castle. If it could be accomplished without violence, and by doing so preserve Chen’s warrior women for the coming battle with Lord Daegal over Crystal Castle, then that’s what she would do. Andrina knew the fight would eventually come to them. It was unavoidable. But she was determined to avoid fighting that was either unnecessary or premature.
As it was, Lord Daegal’s guards at the main entrance had witnessed the warlord welcoming Andrina into the castle earlier this very day. To the guards at the gate, these warrior women mounted on their magnificent black stallions appeared to be a natural entourage for such a famous warrior as Andrina.
With pride, the men saluted and raised the castle gate honoring Andrina and Chen’s warrior women, then watched transfixed as the women rode by with their strong, well-muscled thighs straddling powerful, massive warhorses. The men were enthralled by all the creaking saddle leather, black knee-high riding boots, black cloth blouses, black leather pants, leather wrist protectors, and tons and tons of long, luxurious hair blowing in the wind.
It was a sight many would long remember, except for the sergeant on duty. He’d be dead by nightfall. Lord Daegal would be furious with the sergeant for not even questioning the necessity of such a large honor guard.
Andrina’s prestige alone had gotten Chen’s warrior women out of the castle. Andrina was an amazing woman, and Chen’s warriors would be finding that out even more so very shortly.
Chapter 27
Hundreds of Lord Daegal’s warriors were pouring into Crystal Valley.
Andrina, who at the moment was alone and pacing along a walkway above Crystal Castle’s front wall, was surprised when she saw the warlord’s army making its way through the mountain’s western pass and winding its way down the switchback trail leading to the valley floor.
Marcheto had volunteered to keep watch at an overlook located a few miles west of Crystal Castle on the other side of the mountain. It afforded him an almost unobstructed view of land that Lord Daegal’s troops would have to traverse in order to reach the black crystalline fortress. Repeatedly over the last few days, Marcheto had reported that there was no sign at all of Lord Daegal’s warriors.
Suspecting some form of treachery, Andrina thought, And now this! How could that young man possibly have missed an army of this size?
Marcheto had been reporting to several nobles who established a reconnaissance post at Crystal Mountain’s western pass and who, in turn, reported back to Crystal Castle. Just this morning, Marcheto informed the nobles that he hadn’t seen so much as a single warrior on horseback.
This had been welcome news given their state of readiness, or their lack of it.
Even now, with Chen having all her warrior women at the castle, there were still less than 150 warriors defending the black crystalline fortress. And that included the nobles, as well as Balder and his men, and Aerylln, Zorya, Baelfire, Pensgraft, Corson, Ritalso and Marcheto.
Andrina thought, This small number is tantamount to no defense at all. The most we can hope for is to put up a brief resistance. And is that really worth dying for? It was a question she’d been asking herself for the last few days.
It wasn’t that Andrina was afraid of dying in battle. In fact, she had no great desire to drift quietly into old age. Her fighting ability was still intact, and she had no desire to live beyond her days of being an able warrior.
Andrina was also well aware of her violent temper. And she knew that, sooner or later, she’d speak her mind to the wrong person and not be able to back it up properly with her sword. It was only a matter of time.
Andrina’s sense of pride was such that, rather than a mocking smile, she wanted to see fear in the eyes of the warrior who took her life. The warrior woman felt strongly that when she could no longer prove to be a credible threat, well, life just wouldn’t be worth living.
It wasn’t death she feared but public humiliation. She lived in dread of others seeing her fight badly.
I’ll be dead before that happens, Andrina reassured herself.
In fact, her death might well be in the very near future, the warrior woman realized, given the way things were shaping up at Crystal Castle.
Everything had happened so quickly. First, there was Glenitant’s death at Chen’s hands, or feet, since she’d kicked the old witch out of an upper-storey window. Second, Crystal was now a prisoner. Third, Crystal Castle was up for grabs. Fourth, there was her own surprise at seeing Chen again after so many years.
Also, there were Aerylln, Baelfire and Zorya.
Andrina thought, What exactly is this transformation they talk about, and when is it going to happen? Whatever they’re going to do, they’d better do it quickly. We need their help now, not later. The sun may come up tomorrow, but that won’t do us any good if it shines on us when we’re dead.
Standing on one of the front wall’s battlements, Andrina looked out over the valley floor and was surprised to see Marcheto riding towards the castle.
Andrina thought, What can he possibly say to justify his behavior? But then, she realized Marcheto wasn’t interested in explaining his motives to her or the other warrior women. He was going after Aerylln!
And Andrina thought, Does that young man think he can betray his friends and still have the woman he loves?
Marcheto’s answer to that question would have been, no! However, he wasn’t willing to give up trying. And so, seemingly oblivious to the risks involved in returning to Crystal Castle, the prodigal son barreled through the entrance, which had no drawbridge, door or gate blocking him, such barriers never having been needed before.
As Marcheto dismounted, Corson, Chen and her warrior women swarmed around him seeking news of Lord Daegal’s army. They were also wondering why he’d left his job as scout and returned to the castle.
However, looking up at the battlements and making eye contact with Andrina, Marcheto was unnerved by the way she was glaring at him. Shuddering, he realized that from her vantage point atop the castle walls, Andrina was watching Lord Daegal’s army entering Crystal Valley.
“They have my father!” Marcheto blurted out to Chen.
“What are you talking about, and why should I care?” Chen asked, almost laughing at him, such talk seeming irrelevant.
“My father’s name is Tark,” Marcheto confessed, a look of anguish on his face. “He’s the captain of Lord Daegal’s personal guard.”
“I know who Captain Tark is, and he has a bunch of sons, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, I’m one of them. The youngest.”
“Why haven’t I seen you around
the castle?” Chen asked eyeing him suspiciously.
“Being the youngest, I was at work taking care of my older brothers’ horses and gear, as well as having my own training. All that goes on from dawn to dusk, day after day, so I don’t exactly get out much.”
“Tark’s youngest son? Maybe I have heard about you,” Chen said smiling. “Are you that oversexed young man who’s seduced half the women in the castle?”
“I guess that’s me, but I’m not like that now. I’ve never even touched Aerylln inappropriately.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Chen asked.
“Lord Daegal ordered me to become a spy by
ingratiating myself with Aerylln.”
“You tricked that innocent, teenage girl? And you’re a spy?” Chen asked feeling genuine surprise. “Well, you had me fooled, I thought you loved her.”
“I do love her!”
“And yet, Marcheto, you used her to become a spy? I’ll tell you what you are, you’re a traitor,” Chen said reaching for her knife.
“If you kill me, Aerylln will never believe my crime. You’d best let me live long enough to tell her myself.”
“You’re going to admit to Aerylln that you betrayed us all? She’s never even known a man before, and you’re going to tell her that the only man she ever loved is a traitor?”
“Yes.”
Chen almost killed him for that alone.
Then, nearly 100 warrior women parted as a teenage girl with a very powerful sword approached them.
Having run downstairs to greet her boyfriend, Aerylln was breathless and smiling. From an upper-storey window in the tower, she’d seen Marcheto entering the courtyard. But after taking one look at the warrior women surrounding him, Aerylln knew Marcheto was in trouble, serious trouble.
Walking up to him, she took his right hand in both of hers, looked up into his eyes and said, “Tell me what happened.”
“I’m a traitor! My father’s the captain of Lord Daegal’s personal guard. I lied about the location of Lord Daegal’s army, and now it’s pouring into Crystal Valley! But Aerylln, Lord Daegal said he’d kill my father if I didn’t help him!”
Aerylln took in the news calmly.
“You’ve made a serious mistake, and the consequences will be severe. You realize that, don’t you?” she asked quietly.
“Yes,” Marcheto whispered.
Looking at the faces of the women surrounding them, Aerylln realized Marcheto might soon be dead. If she let go of his hand and turned her back on him, Marcheto would be executed before she took two steps away from him.
Desperate to explain himself, the young man looked at the only woman he’d ever loved, the only woman who’d ever loved him in return, and implored her to understand.
“Lord Daegal would have killed my father!” Marcheto said again, the torment and anguish in his voice readily apparent. Though not fearing death, he didn’t want to meet his demise before receiving Aerylln’s forgiveness.
“Does your father love you?” Aerylln asked, her voice quietly chastising him.
“Yes.”
“Then, you should have trusted his love. He’d rather be dead, himself, than witness what you’re doing now, betraying those who trusted you.”
“Maybe you’re right, but after Lord Daegal threatened to kill him, my father was really upset,” Marcheto said. “I heard the fear in his voice.”
“Yes, I’m sure he was distraught, but a father would rather bear any burden than see his son turn traitor. You should have known that, Marcheto, you should have trusted your father to rise to the occasion. No one respects a traitor, no matter what side he’s on. As it is, you denied your father a proud death, and, if he survives this coming battle, you’ll have caused him to live in shame,” Aerylln said squeezing Marcheto’s hand while sighing over his shortsightedness.
“More than likely, Lord Daegal will kill your father anyway. He won’t trust him anymore, not when Lord Daegal’s virtually responsible for your death. So, your father will end up dying for nothing,” Aerylln said sadly.
All the warrior women, including Andrina, who’d come down from the battlements, marveled at the young woman’s wisdom.
Aerylln let go of Marcheto’s hand. “I want him left alive,” was all she said as she turned and walked away.
No one disputed Aerylln’s quiet authority, so the warrior women began dispersing while looking at the young man in disgust. That is, until Gwendylln walked over to Marcheto and punched him with a rock-hard fist. Stumbling backwards, his breastbone fractured, Marcheto’s chest exploded shooting excruciating pain throughout his entire body.
Next, Malavika walked up to Marcheto throwing a devastating left hook, and everyone in the courtyard heard his skull crack. Then the punishment began in earnest as each warrior woman took her turn, all except for Chen, Corson and Andrina. Chen knew if she so much as touched him, she wouldn’t be able to stop from killing him. Corson held back because Aerylln was her friend. And Andrina knew that no amount of physical pain would cleanse the young man of his crime.
However, their self-restraint didn’t stop the others, and the beating went on for what seemed like an eternity.
When the last woman walked away, Marcheto lay on the floor of the courtyard only a step or two from dying. But he was alive. So they had honored Aerylln’s request but only by the slimmest of margins.
Chapter 28
Chen’s savage wolfhounds bounded out of Crystal Castle like black meteors of death.
They were long-haired, shaggy beasts with massive jaws, enormous chests and hind legs possessing the strength of catapults. Almost two-dozen of these fearsome creatures were ripping through an expanse of thick grassland stretching out in front of Crystal Castle as far as the eye could see.
Unaware of the approaching danger and taking comfort in its vastly superior numbers, Lord Daegal’s army continued winding its way down the mountain trail. Several hundred warriors had already reached the base of Crystal Valley and were milling about waiting for orders to form into battle groups.
The first warriors to see the four-legged behemoths hurtling at them stared in stunned disbelief at the sheer size and speed of these incredible animals.
Some of Lord Daegal’s personal guards were formulating attack plans when the wolfhounds were sighted. Tark, Rory and Kato were present and, looking up, saw the wolfhounds descending upon them.
Zenkak’s back and shoulder muscles rippled with each stride as the pack leader charged towards his prey with eager anticipation.
When the wolfhounds reached Lord Daegal’s men, some launched themselves into the air with powerful hind legs flying over the first row of warriors and falling upon those behind them like black rain. It was a thundershower of madness, and the wolfhounds unleashed hell all around them.
Other wolfhounds ran right through the front line penetrating deeply into the ranks and stopping only after clamping onto a human who acted like an anchor slowing the animal’s momentum. The strongest wolfhounds charged even deeper into the fray, the shaggy beasts’ powerful muscles straining as they dragged screaming men by their arms and legs while horrified humans fled the torrential downpour of pain and agony.
With an enormous mouth filled with gleaming incisors, one gigantic wolfhound clamped his jaws around a man’s midriff lifting the warrior off the ground with feet and legs dangling out one side of beast’s mouth, his head and shoulders the other.
Running back through the ranks of Lord Daegal’s warriors who were scattering in all directions, the massive wolfhound bounded into the open grassland while carrying his trophy. The shaggy beast charged along the entire length of the hundreds of warriors gathered on the valley floor. Anytime his human cargo stopped screaming, the giant wolfhound clamped down harder digging long, sharp teeth deeper into the man’s ravaged middle.
As the wolfhounds continued their relentless attack, the howls of pain were deafening. Those warriors fortunate enough to escape shut their ears to the agony and ran away
as far and as fast as they could.
For some, it just wasn’t far or fast enough.
Filling the pastoral setting with an air of unreality, the high-pitched wailing and shrieking seemed incongruous with the natural beauty of the valley. But as almost two-dozen hungry wolfhounds continued pursuing their enemy, the cries became prevalent enough.
“Mortally wound your enemy but don’t kill him.
Instead, let him scream,” Zenkak had instructed his hounds before making their charge. “One man screaming in agony will unnerve a dozen. And the more warriors you intimidate, the fewer you’ll have to fight.”
And now, putting his teachings into effect, the pack leader clamped his jaws down on an unfortunate warrior’s leg whipping the hysterical man back and forth in the air. Then with one powerful sweep of his neck, Zenkak tossed the warrior aside.
With a sense of exhilaration, the pack leader tilted back his head and cut loose with a ferocious battle cry. It had the desired effect, and the warriors closest to him put as much distance between themselves and this monstrous king of beasts as possible.
Looking around for his next victim, Zenkak settled on Tark, the captain of Lord Daegal’s personal guard, and lunged at him. But Tark didn’t flinch and didn’t try to escape. He stood his ground.
Zenkak, lowering himself as if getting ready to spring, prowled slowly in a circle around his adversary while making deep, rumbling growls.
Unafraid, Tark twirled his sword in his hand and watched carefully.
But the attack came from an unexpected direction. With blinding speed, Lothar, Zenkak’s second-in-command, hurled himself at Tark landing on the captain’s back and sinking his fangs into the warrior’s shoulder. Warm liquid flowed into the wolfhound’s mouth spilling over his tongue. Lothar liked the taste of blood, but this time it proved a nearly fatal distraction.
Exploiting this opportunity, Tark sank his sword into the animal’s thick, muscular neck finding red meat beneath the surface. And though his shirt was becoming soaked with the wolfhound’s blood, Tark stayed focused. Next, the captain’s knife found Lothar’s soft underbelly, and he shoved it in deeply.