“But Gorath?” said Leo.
“Yes, Gorath used it otherwise. He tapped into what is corrupt, born of evil and superstition in the world and channelled those energies through the ley lines. He tainted the source of life of the planet and would have bent it for his own means.”
“Will he do it again?” asked Leo.
“He will try. He has all of the totems now, perhaps that will be enough.”
The retinue paused in the woods. The King turned, “The smell of smoke is getting stronger as we near the Henge. We should ready ourselves for battle. Everyone understands their role.
“We have no idea what to expect when the totems are combined, or indeed what effect this will have on Gorath. We, though, must endeavour to play our part, to try and stop him and return the totems to their rightful places of rest.
“Ride hard, take great heart and fight with bravery and courage. Troth to the Realms!”
“Troth to the Realms,” the knights repeated.
*
Without warning Janshai horsemen came over a ridge riding through the woods towards them. “To the left flank,” cried the King. “Defend the left.” The knights steered their chargers, drew their swords and spears, and kicked them forward to engage the Janshai.
The King shouted, “Urien, keep them occupied for as long as you can. Everyone else to me, we continue to Dryw Henge,” and the King urged Star Dancer forward.
“We will help,” said Maruq, and the clan morphed into wolves snarling and snapping at the oncoming Janshai.
Though outnumbered, Urien and the majority of the knights lunged forward and met the Janshai at pace in the woods. Spears and swords clashing with armour and shields. Once through the enemy, they circled round and re-engaged them. Riders unseated from the initial charge got to their feet and ran to press the enemy once more. The silence of the once idyllic forest had been broken. It descended into a cacophony of cries, the thunderous stamp of horses’ hooves and the clattering of metal.
The battle for Dryw Henge had begun.
*
Gorath waited at the altar in the middle of the stone statues. Just to his side stood Shomari and the Black Wizard. Two Janshai units remained, seated on their horses. They circled the Henge, facing west, the direction from which King Armanar and his cavalry would come.
He felt the surface of the altar for the slight indentation that he knew was there. He circled it with his fingertip to remove any lasting dust or ash then turned and nodded to five Janshai standing behind him.
Each stepped forward in turn and presented him with each of the totems. First, the Earth Totem which he placed on the altar. Then one by one he gently placed each of the remaining totems: Water; Air; Fire; Quintessence.
Each fitted neatly on top of the previous and affirmed the linkage between the elements. The waves of cool light rippled up and down the column.
As the sun rose, shards of light glinted from over the horizon and danced through the trees. Gorath could feel the sun’s warmth on his face as it lifted in the sky and cast away the shadows of the night, which seemed to cling onto the stone statues. The sun ascended over the trees, slowly casting its rays towards the altar itself.
The forest was in the throes of the dawn chorus, birds sang of the joys of the pleasures of life. Those minded to do so may have paused to listen.
Gorath began his incantation, it would be the words to silence the forest and scratch the joy from life. As he spoke the skies darkened; grey clouds started to douse the sun’s flames; and lightning hissed and crackled above.
“As dawn is cast and light breaks the night,
Bring down the veil between the present and the past,
Draw aside the spirit guides and obscure their vision,
Let them abandon all that is gentle and beautiful in the world,
Let the forces of fire and ash be on the rise,
The dark shall be reborn and a new cycle begin,
Let trial and sacrifice endure in the stone circles once more,
Abolish order and structure and let chaos reign.”
Lightning burst bright in the clouds above and then a spark of flame engulfed the totems connecting the heavens with the earth. Gorath looked up to the sky and raised his arms. The ferocity of the storm increased, feeding the potency of the totems that glowed brighter and hummed with an impending intensity.
The Janshai horses, unsettled by the swirling clouds above, whinnied and scuffed their hooves.
*
Saturnus stepped into the clearing, his cloak whipped up and he leant into the winds that swirled around him. He raised the palms of his hands ahead of him and spoke:
“Let light fall on the earth, water, air and fire,
The light that will bring balance and nourishment,
Such that the fruits of the earth will prosper and grow,
Let us give thanks and celebrate the goodness in this world,
In man’s abundance of spirit, that hope and truth will prevail,
That man and nature will live in peace and tranquillity,
A path from birth to death, from dawn to dusk, from horizon to horizon,
One that heals, one to cherish the vitality of life,
To gaze into the innocent face of a child,
That casts out darkness.”
Saturnus’s words, from all that is good in the world, held sway with Gorath’s vile incantation. Gorath howled in frustration. He turned to Shomari, the Janshai, and the Dark Wizard. “Kill him!” he screamed and began his dark incantation once again. The two druids continued to chant, their words enveloping each other, twisting together. They caused the totems glow to brighten and wane as the influence of one or the other took hold of the balance of power and relinquished it once again.
Shomari waved his Janshai forward and stepped down into the stone circle followed by the Black Wizard. When the Janshai moved upon Saturnus, chargers burst from the trees. As they advanced from the cover of the forest they reared up in fright at the destructive forces of the storm. The stallions struck out their hooves at the Janshai who backed off and then re-engaged for the assault. Shomari scanned across the line; King Armanar; Aron; Logar; Aksel; Aland, Ailin; Sumnar and a unit of Amphean cavalry.
Shomari flicked the hilt of his long sword in his hand and smiled, “Right then orphan, let’s see if you can put up a better fight than your parents. Your father came at me with a pitchfork!”
Shomari chuckled, “Such a peasant. I caught it with my fist and plunged my blade into him at the same time. I remember his mouth opening and closing like a puppet. I grabbed him by the throat and made him watch me spear his wife, your mother, with his own pitchfork. Then I snapped his neck.”
Logar roared with rage and thrust at Shomari with his sword. Shomari sidestepped his blow. He smashed the hilt of his sword against Logar’s head as he stumbled past, the side of his head throbbed and his ear stung from the blow. Logar pulled himself up and composed himself, reset to his instincts his training and re-engaged the Janshai. They both wielded their swords and defended against each other’s blows, the clanging of their blades adding to the sounds of the melee.
A Janshai stepped forward to Aksel. “Well this is no surprise to me. Your family has been a thorn in the Janshai side for generations. Your father, your father’s father; they were all weak. They should have beaten you more as a child. Brought you to the Janshai way and knocked those ideas out of your head. You think because of your lineage you are special, better than the rest of us? Pre-ordained to lead the Janshai to a better life.”
The Janshai laughed in distain and spat, “Well I have news for you; you are not special; you betrayed your people; you are a traitor; don’t think that when this battle is over that these new friends will not abandon you and disown you.
“You and your rabble will be outcast and your lives forfeit an
d your beliefs forgotten. Under Gorath, the Janshai will continue its rise; we serve a master who needs us. All those from the other realms; they do not respect us and treat us with disdain. From this time, kings and ambassadors shall bow at our feet and treat us with the respect we deserve!”
Aksel paused, dug the tip of his sword into the earth and leant on his hilt. “You say you are Janshai but you bang on like an old woman; are we going to fight or do you want to sit down and do some knitting?”
The Janshai raised his eyebrows and roared, “Why you, you will perish from the cold steel of my blade.”
“That’s more like it,” said Aksel. “Come on then, let’s see what you are made of!”
The Black Wizard stepped forward, muttered an incantation and drew a fireball between the palms of his hands, the flames flickering between his fingers as it flared and slowly grew in size. He opened his arms and threw a bolt at an Amphean soldier. Sumnar flashed his staff and deflected it upwards, sending it crashing up into a tree where branches and leaves burst into flame.
“What is it with wizards?” taunted Sumnar, “you deal with one, and then another one crawls out from beneath a rock. Do you ever think what may happen if you used your powers for good?”
“Good?” sneered the Black Wizard, “I just want to play for the winning team. You my friend, and any other wizard that steps in my path, are going the same way, death and extermination.”
Sumnar sent a blow at the Black Wizard sending him stumbling backwards. “You are all the same, doom and gloom, death to all, perpetual darkness. I’m not sure what you look forward to when you wake up in the morning.
“What’s the point? Watching the sun go down supping an ale; making a daisy chain for a little girl; singing your favourite song in the bath; ruffling your dog’s ears! You focus on the evils of life you’ll miss out on these wonderful things!”
The Black Wizard cursed and sent a blow back at Sumnar. “Piffle and inconsequence, unless you set your sights on one true end, you’ll only serve to get distracted by trivial little things that matter not.”
“Well that is where you are wrong. It’s the little things that bring joy to our lives. Without the little things, life is not worth living. At least I experienced joy, love and loss, but that’s what makes us human.”
“Well that’s what’ll make you dead!” The Black Wizard ripped a tree from its roots and it tumbled towards Ailin who had engaged and fought a Janshai horseman. Sumnar swirled round and raised up his palm holding the oak, the strain etched on his face.
“Ailin!” he cried. She looked up and jumped back just as Sumnar released the tree and it fell crushing the Janshai, then he felt a searing blast as he was hit by another fireball that charred his cloak and singed his hair.
Sumnar patted himself down. “You know this was my favourite cloak, I have just worn it in!” he said. “That really hacks me off.” He swirled round and thrust his staff sending the Black Wizard tumbling towards a tree; the Black Wizard smacked his head and fell lifeless to the ground.
*
Fayette, Daylon and Leo had skirted to the rear of the clearing, behind Gorath. A slight blind spot had opened up as the Janshai had edged round to face the Amphean knights.
“Are you ready?” asked Daylon looking at Fayette. She nodded. Leo, who was carrying the Staff of Talisien, gripped her by the shoulder and gave her his most reassuring smile.
“Good luck, tread carefully and if you need our help we’ll come running. Hopefully everyone will be focused on the knights.”
Fayette wrapped the cloak of invisibility around her and disappeared in a blink. Leo and Daylon could only watch, as the Princess stepped out into the clearing. Though she felt the sun on her face, she was not visible to anyone. She watched where she was treading not to give any signs of her approach. Stealth was key; stealth and surprise.
She continued forward step by step. She could see the Janshai engaging the knights on the other side of the clearing. In front of her, perhaps a hundred feet away, was Gorath, Janshai standing either side of him, continuing his incantation battling with Saturnus for supremacy. While the swords clashed around them, the two druids’ words duelled in the air between them.
The Princess moved closer and could sense them ahead. She could almost reach out and touch them; Gorath’s words were gathering urgency as they rang in her ears. She had to find the right time, pick her moment to act. She waited crouched behind them.
King Armanar was the first to burst through the wall of Janshai, and strode purposefully towards Gorath, rotating his sword at its hilt.
Daylon looked for Aron who was engaged with a Janshai. They were well matched, but Daylon could see the panic on Aron’s face. Not only could he see his father drawing closer to the nature of his vision, he could not do anything about it. The Janshai was strong and Aron was fighting two battles in his head. It meant he was not focused fully on the fight in front of him. In fact, he was losing ground.
Daylon stepped past Leo and dashed towards the stone circle. He had to do whatever he could to help his King. Leo panicked and was caught in two minds. The desire to help, though he knew he would be no match with anyone in combat. And the urge to stay hidden and safe, the urge for self-preservation. He muttered to himself, cursed himself, and then strode out from the undergrowth and followed Daylon perhaps fifty yards behind. The two Janshai by Gorath’s side stepped forward to face the King. He parried the first couple of thrusts and then held them at bay with powerful swings of Light Wielder. The Janshai’s arms were knocked out of rhythm by the force of the blows.
They were only able to defend against the King but fighting two Janshai, the King was unable to push home any advantage. As the King struck one of the Janshai, the Janshai’s sword clattered to the ground and he staggered back.
Perhaps sensing the danger, Gorath scowled. He momentarily paused the incantation and the tumult eased briefly.
Instead, a bolt of lightning leapt from the heavens and enveloped Gorath’s staff. The power and energy grew and built, glowing with a white heat. Gorath stepped forward and threw the end of the staff towards King Armanar.
The bolt struck the King on his chest knocking him backwards, leaving a scorch mark across his chest plate. He staggered back to his knees and steadied himself trying to clear his head from the blow, as one of the Janshai leapt forward and lashed out with his sword.
The King just managed to duck his body, but although the Janshai’s strike missed his neck it struck and sliced under the King’s armour on his left shoulder and down towards his chest. The King dropped Light Wielder and grabbed the Janshai’s sword as he twisted it, the King’s face etched with pain. He pushed the Janshai’s blade back and cast it aside. He reached for Light Wielder once more but was too late. The Janshai raised the sword above his head to strike.
Just as his arms were about to arc down with the final blow, Daylon leapt forward and thrust Razor Phantom into the Janshai’s side bringing him to his knees. He supported his King and held him as he slumped from the Janshai’s blow.
Fayette seized the opportunity and reached out and grabbed the Quintessence Totem. The shock and agony of its energy seared through the muscles in her arm right up to her shoulder. She cried in pain and threw her hood back revealing herself though she held on to the totem, her fingers in spasm, but just maintaining her grip.
Gorath turned as the energy waned from the altar and howled in frustration. He swirled backwards with his staff bringing it down on Fayette’s arm. Leo heard her scream in pain as he approached. The totem spun free and fell to the ground and the Princess fell to her knees clutching her arm.
Chapter 13
Vane
A couple of Janshai broke away from the melee and backed into the stone circle. They joined the remaining Janshai who stood over Daylon, holding his sword to Daylon’s throat. One stood between Leo and Gorath, the other picked up the Quin
tessence Totem and placed it back on top of the stack on the altar again. The force surged around the forest clearing once more, both druids renewing their incantations.
“Let him through,” a seemingly deeper darker voice echoed around the clearing.
The Janshai stood back to let Leo through to Gorath.
As if in a trance Leo walked towards Gorath. He stood next to him and looked blankly across the clearing.
An apparition obscured everything around Leo and Gorath like a mist or a fog. But this did not dissipate and fade. It crackled with power and energy. It had substance, being, and moved to bind Leo and Gorath.
“I have inhabited this body, this form for too long. It is decrepit and decaying. Even the Quintessence Totem can’t sustain it for much longer. Finally, I have a new vessel to hold my spirit. One born, one created by my disciples, bred from the dark energies of the earth to fuse with my soul. One that I will take possession of to continue my pursuit of power.”
The melee dimmed around them as Saturnus responded, “Gorath you do not need this boy. Give up the quest for power that you seek. It is misplaced and ill judged. Leave the world to live in peace. Give up the Quintessence Totem, for it has overwhelmed you and corrupts your spirit.”
“Gorath!” spat the voice. “Gorath was a fool. Weak and easily led. He searched for something but when he found it he had no idea what he unleashed. The memories of man fade with time, generation by generation and forgotten. Like the boy, Gorath was simply a tool. A tool to free me from my torment. A tool so I could rise once more. And now the body of the boy will help sustain me for many generations to come.
“Gorath is no more! I am Vane, a being beyond your imagination. I have existed since before the Chronicles of Durik. I am Quintessence. Quintessence is not matter, it is being, and we are one and the same!
“No one can stand in my path. Druids, kings, knights or peasants.”
Dryw Henge Page 16