“All through that black morning they sniped at us, leaped at our flanks, wore us down. Our reserves became depleted; and I need not have to explain to you the folly of having to fight from such a poor defensive position. Yet with our backs to the cliffs, what else could we do?
“Then as the shadows grew long and the day tired came a battalion of dogs charging straight from the Marsh. Right from the Marsh itself — I tell you, we were stunned! Our archers pounded their ranks, yet still they pressed on, wave after terrible wave, body leaping over body. This endless multitude caused even the stoutest among us to despair. Slowly this Pack managed to form a wedge between us and break our army into two. Good Sean, on the right, took command of one group, and brave Dinjar, on the left, took charge of the other. Again and again we strived to join together, but each time we were savagely pinned back against the bluffs. Yet even through all this did we hold! How many we slaughtered during this bitter frey, I cannot say. Hundreds, perhaps a thousand. But what matter? There was no end to their numbers!
“The battle raged at a furious pitch well into dark, and by midnight we hoped we had encountered the worst. But what was to happen next made that day’s events seem little more than a skirmish. From behind, from the very part of the forest we had come, there came a new and fresh column of Warriors. They marched upon us — mark my words carefully, my Lords — they did not run, they marched! It was a precision phalanx, well disciplined and led by the most cunning generals I have ever seen. There must have been twelve hundred in that column of death, or even more. Who can count such numbers, and what good would it have done if we had? But this much I will say to you: it was the most horrible that anyone could behold. Arrows of fire sprayed them like rain, our birds swept upon them from the smoke-filled sky — but they could not be stopped! When one fell, his fur ablaze like a torch, and many did, he was immediately replaced by another. I tell you this wall of dog could not be broken. And all too soon this awful phalanx was upon us, trampling men and wolves alike by the dozen. Oh, the screams! I pray that never again shall I have to hear such pitiful cries of agony. The enemy was ruthless; limbs were torn, eyes scratched from their sockets. It was ghastly. And there was nothing we could do, absolutely nothing. The dogs spilled blood like water from a fountain. I shall never forget, never. I shall dream of nothing else.”
Corin began to tremble. He paused to regain his composure.
“Then as the moon grew higher this maniacal scourge began to withdraw,” he continued. “And our spirits were lifted. Surely now the worst had passed. What else could there be? More than half our army was dead, many more wounded. But at least we had held.
“Alas, the Fates were against us that night. Our forces formed into defensive circles, waited and hoped to keep the dogs at bay at least until dawn. And it was only then, when we thought the worst was over, that the real truth of our illusions were shattered like glass. We were not yet to be done with, not by any account, because from the Marsh came another of those dreaded columns of death. Yes, another phalanx, only twice as large as the one we had fought before! And it was made up entirely of fresh troops — Warriors with soft clean coats who had yet to see their first combat. While their brothers had attacked, they had waited.
“No army ever fought on with the skill and courage that we did. Sean and Dinjar were at their best, even in our darkest moment. They rallied us, cajoled us, gave us hope to go on. The battle was hotly contested, let me assure you, no matter how badly hurt we had been. The air itself smelled with a putrid smell of dead flesh, especially dog-flesh. And long into the night did we meet head on with this new phalanx. The earth fouled with our bloods, hardly any among us had not been wounded, but we sought no quarter nor gave any. Blissfully, after several hours of close combat, this phalanx, too, began to withdraw, half their numbers scattered dead at our feet. Believe this or not, that moment was one of joy, for we had fought — and beaten — the deadliest troops the Master could send against us.”
Bela and Assan sat back in shock as Corin paused again before the rest of his tale unfolded.
“But lo,” said Corin a moment later. “This fight was far from done. We looked to the sky. It grew black. The stars were gone, the moon was gone, and in its place swarmed a thousand dreaded Night-Birds. From Hel’s hidden depths they flew; and we cringed at the sight. Our own fighting birds were exhausted and bloodied, but bravely they again took to the sky to meet this new enemy head-on. But we were no match, either in numbers or in strength. They cut our ranks to ribbons. Vandor courageously led us on, until he himself fell wounded and plummeted to the ground. And men cringed when they saw this. If our birds were powerless against this vile host in the sky, what could they do upon the earth?
“When all birds had been dealt the final shattering blow, the Night-Birds were at last free to turn upon the men and wolves. Diving and screaming, a horde of them fell upon Sean and his captains. Our faces turned white with horror as we saw mighty Sean fall, his own face turned to little more than a hideous pulp. Brave Sean staggered up amidst his torture and brandished his weapon, but as he did a vicious Pack leaped from the bluffs and knocked him down. And they knew their mark, you can be sure! They knew it was noble Sean who had fallen. Fangs ripped the flesh from his bones even before he was dead. And with his last breaths he cursed and damned them forever.
“You may have thought that with our commander’s death the enemy would have been content, but I promise you they were not. They laughed a terrible laugh and commenced to do ghastly, unspeakable things to his lifeless corpse. His bowels were ripped from his belly and many dogs ran about with his bloody gut between their teeth, proudly displaying it for all their comrades to see. And great cheers rose from among their ranks; many howled in gleeful amusement. Some of our loyal soldiers tried desperately to put an end to this vile display, but they were unable. Alas, most of them were doomed to suffer the very same fate.
“King Dinjar died as a true hero should. With but a few bold Hunters at his side he tried a last-ditch counterattack upon the slopes of the hills. What courage he showed; what skill! A dozen Warriors yapped at his heels and single-handedly he brought them all down. But he had pitted his own small force against one more than twenty times his own number. His tiny band was set upon by a swarm of Night-Birds while a hundred more leaping dogs charged down from the ridges. Poor Dinjar had no chance; his head was torn from his shoulders right before my very eyes. The enemy flung it about in sport and spat upon it. But I’ll say at least this: even in death he looked a more fearsome and worthy fighter than any of his cowardly tormentors.
“And yet again the enemy cheered — only even louder than before. ‘The traitor is dead,’ they cried, ‘Dinjar is dead!’ Good Lords, what shivers it sent down my spine.
“Now by this hour our ranks were thin indeed. All our commanders had been slain or were severely wounded. Yet good soldiers all, we survivors banded together in a pitiful circle and tried to make one last effort to be gone from that place. But as we pushed forward, the enemy on the bluffs sent huge boulders crashing atop our heads. It was then we decided to stand firm and make no effort to flee; if we were to die, and there was little doubt, then we would do it with honor.
“And still the hordes came! But with them came the dawn. We saw at once the incredible extent of our defeat. All around lay headless bodies, torsos without limbs, all this and more, and a river of blood as high as a man’s ankles. Yet what of the enemy, you ask? I would not be lying if I told you we had slain as many as five thousand. The carnage about us was not to be believed. If this was a victory for them, they paid dearly for it.
“Those of us alive on that dawn were merely a few, about thirty men, most of them wounded, eighteen Hunters, and eleven birds. Yes, my friends, of our entire army that was all that lived. And death was still at hand, even for them. Some men retched at the sight around them, a few sat and wept; but not a single one of us harbored fear. All we wanted was a swift death and the chance to join our fallen companions in
Heaven. No mercy would we beg.
“Suddenly, to our great shock, the attacking dogs stood still, heads bowed. A great ugly beast raced through their ranks and stepped close and looked at us with scorn. I cannot say how I knew, but that it was Toland, their Master, I am sure. The shaking in my bones told me that it was so. The Master had come among us to see his glorious victory! He paced before us and sneered, then he spoke in the common-tongue of the forest. ‘Burn this day in your hearts,’ he growled, ‘go back to the Valley of Men and speak of what you have seen here. Tell them to cower behind their wall of stone if they will, for we march to lay siege. If men have still the stomach to fight, we welcome it. Meet us on the Plain. If not, no matter, because from this day forward we, not men, rule there. And our presence before you will show that this is so. Leave the forest now, forever, and never come back. But never forget what you have endured. Tell all who doubt that the Master has truly come!’ ”
And with that, Corin finished his tale.
The men sat breathless, incredulous. This was a nightmare beyond their wildest imaginations.
Assan shook his head sadly and looked up at Corin. “And what happened to Tagg and his column?” he asked in a shaky voice.
Corin looked away. “They had not been able to cut through the Marsh after all. The enemy sniped at their flanks, making them virtually helpless. But they still live. They march back broken in spirit, defeated in heart, disgraced.”
Elon shook his head violently. “They have done nothing to be ashamed of,” he said. “They did as much as or more than could be asked of anyone. They are heroes come back, and as such they’ll be treated.”
Corin smiled at Eton’s justice.
“What do we do now?” asked Bela, turning to Elon. “What’s our next move?”
Elon sighed. “First we must evacuate all the settlements. I want every man, woman and child to be brought to the Haven. But there must not be any panic.”
“There won’t be,” said Assan. “I’ll take charge of it myself. By the time the dogs come, the Valley will be empty.”
Elon nodded. “Good, good. Then we must prepare for siege. Have all granaries stocked, all livestock brought. We’ll need new stables and barns to house them. Will you take care of that also?”
Assan nodded darkly.
“Every youth will be conscripted,” continued Elon. “There will be no exceptions. We’ll be fighting for our very existence.”
“We’re not defeated yet,” barked Assan. “Not by a long shot! Half the Royal Guard remains at their posts, and together with the returning veterans of Tagg’s column, we can put up a bloody good fight.”
“And birds will be at your side,” said Corin proudly. “We’ll scour the wood for predators. And they’ll come from everywhere, I swear it. Every bird will want to do his part in avenging our fallen brothers.”
“And the wolves?” asked Elon.
“You can count on them, too,” replied the falcon. “Marco is king now. And has many of his own scores to settle with the dogs.”
“Then all isn’t lost,” sighed Elon. “A new strategy will have to be decided, but with it, a new day will begin. And this much I vow: as long as there is breath in my body, the Haven shall stand.”
“Don’t discount Nigel and Desmond, either,” said Bela. “They still live, and seek new lands for us.”
“And by the Fates, they’ll find them!” chimed the Elder. He stood up straight and tall, the tears gone. “A chapter in our history has been written,” he said. “But the volume is not yet finished.”
PART THREE
FROM DARKNESS TO LIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The new morning came bright and fair; the sun, rich and warm like a golden crown, blazed majestically as the soft white clouds passed before it. The wind was strong, as it always was at this height, but now it was warm and pleasant, blowing fresh air among the trees and grasses, kissing them gently with its gift of purity.
The band followed a narrow path between two hills and wound their way slowly up along the ridge. Trees and rocks seemed to stand aside as they climbed higher and higher. Behind, in a curving arc, lay league upon league of the rugged terrain just passed. But now the hills had become gentler again, the earth softer, the grasses thicker. To Nigel they seemed very much like the hills of his beloved North wood. He glanced from side to side, inhaling deeply; he gazed at the beautiful strange wild-flowers that grew everywhere, swaying in rhythm with the winds.
Des came beside him, his mare following meekly behind. His face was scrubby, his eyes tired and worn. But he was grinning from ear to ear.
“How much further now?” asked Nigel.
“Just at the top of the hill, I think,” he said. “Hector’s waiting for us.”
The wolf stood peering down at his companions, eagerly waiting for them to make it to the top. It took only minutes until they were in sight, but it seemed like hours. At last Nigel and Des approached. Behind them he could see the sweeping Western Mountains in a half-circle all around. He gazed at them in wonder. Who would have believed it? he mused. Who would have thought it possible. No one had ever covered so much distance before, not men, not wolves.
Nigel reached him first and looked about. “Is that it?” he asked.
Hector nodded. “Come right to the top, Nigel. See for yourself.”
It was a magnificent sight for one so long in the forest. He opened his mouth in awe and stood frozen. Below, for as far as the eye could see lay some of the most beautiful lands he had ever imagined. Broad fields of sweet grasses surrounded by gently sloping hills; hollows and dales that stretched both east and west; and far in the distance a mighty river of deep blue that rambled beyond the horizon. And everywhere were ponds and brooks brightly reflecting the sun like mirrors set into the earth. There were flowers and plants, tall and stout, well fed by the sun, and a hundred different types of trees. Giant redwoods lumbered higher and higher, almost reaching the sky; there were great oaks and pines, like in the Valley, aristocratic hickories and chestnuts, stately willows, firs and junipers, and row upon row of apple and peach trees, with fruit larger than a man’s hand. Everywhere berry bushes jutted from between the trees, their berries ripe for the taking.
“A land of plenty,” he whispered.
“A whole new world,” rejoiced Des. And the tough soldier kneeled down and thanked the Fates for this success. He was not religious, not by any means, but at such a moment it was hard not to realize what a wondrous gift this truly was.
Hector was deeply moved by this act of faith. He stood close to Des and waited until the silent prayer was finished. “The others are almost here,” he said at length, referring to the weary adventurers who were making their way up one by one. “Shall we begin to go down?”
Des nodded solemnly. Over his head mighty Mustapha was swirling and dancing in the sky. The sight had inspired him also, it was plain.
“I — I’m almost afraid to go,” said Nigel with a sigh. “After all we’ve been through, I guess I never believed we’d really make it.”
“We made it, all right,” said Des, grinning, “and before we enter this land I want to tell you here and now that I was wrong. I thought your dreams about the forest were childish. I thought that —”
Nigel put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and smiled. “I know,” he said. “And there were times when I doubted, too. But we’ve proved it, Des. Proved that the impossible is possible. And the Empire will never be the same.”
“What are we waiting for?” growled Sesto, sitting beneath the shade of a hickory. “Let’s take a look at what we’ve discovered.”
“Hisssss!”
Sesto jumped clear as a large python raised its head from behind a boulder and stared wickedly at them.
The horses whinnied in fear; Des let go of the reins and drew his sword. Before he could raise it, Hector bounded up and stood between him and the snake. “Put that away,” he barked. “This might be another den! And we can’t fight a hun
dred pythons!”
Des gulped and reluctantly sheathed the sword. Hector gazed straight into the snake’s beady eyes and inched forward.
The python’s cunning eyes stared back. “Hissss! Why have you come to this place, Forest-Dweller? Be gone! Go back to the wood where you belong. And take those spindly creatures with you.”
The men began to stir. If it was a fight the python wanted, they were ready, be this a snake-den or not.
Hector froze in his tracks, lowered his head and bowed in the wolf-fashion. “Forgive us, Lord, if we intrude,” he said. “But we are merely weary travelers come upon this beautiful land. We mean you no harm. We are peaceful creatures.”
The python listened, eyeing the men intently. “Hissss! Yet they bear weapons, long teeth that dangle from their waists.”
“Merely for protection, great Lord, I swear it. The forest is dangerous.”
“Hissss!” said the snake suspiciously. “How did you find this place?”
“We have searched for it, Lord,” said Nigel.
The python raised his head and looked him over carefully. “Hissss! From which forest do you come?”
“Not from the forest at all, great Lord. From the Valley, from the Empire.”
“Hissssss! And what Empire is that, milkskin?”
Nigel was taken aback. Had the python never heard of the Valley? “From the Empire of Men,” he said. “A place many hundreds of leagues from here. A great Valley.”
The python laughed. “That is no valley, milkskin! I have heard tales of your land. Why, it’s little more than a clearing in the wood! Here is the land where the forest truly ends, and dares not enter! Be warned. This is Free-Earth you approach. We want no men upon our lands, nor wolves. Go back from whence you came and be glad I spare your lives.”
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