Dryw Henge

by Jonathan Forth

  Vane stood on the crest and watched him approach.

  “So, you have decided to come willingly to give yourself to me.”

  “I am here to kill you,” Leo responded, but Vane threw back his head and laughed.

  “And yet you tell me that. Not exactly masking your intentions. You could have tricked me and caught me off guard.”

  “Perhaps, but then I assume you’d expect that and are anticipating it anyway.”

  “Indeed.”

  Vane turned to his steward, “Fetch the totems.”

  Leo took aim with the staff and thrust a bolt of energy at Vane. He casually cast it aside with a flick of his wrist.

  “Is that it boy?”

  Leo dug deeper inside him and released another blow. Vane deflected it once more and cackled. He held out his hand halting Leo in his tracks. Leo felt his muscles constrict. He tried to move but they were locked. Even his eyelids could not blink.

  The steward arrived with an iron box. Vane unlocked a bolt with a key he carried around his neck and flicked open the lid to reveal the five totems. They lay on their sides flush with each other. As before the light rippled along the skin of the metal.

  As they were released from the box, the crystal in the Staff of Talisien glowed brightly. It let out shards of light that engulfed them, swirling around them, once again blurring out the world around him.

  Vane smiled a thin callous smile. “I have existed for thousands of years. Immortal like the gods. Do you really think you would be a match for me? It’s an endearing human trait that one man believes he can stand up to a deity. You are weak, feeble and ignorant. You were a pawn, born for one purpose, and to exist that way for an eternity to come.”

  Vane drew his hands down and clasped the totems. A curtain of light seemed to form between them.

  Leo was engulfed in a bright emerald luminesce that throbbed with light and energy. Vane stood in a dimmed, darkened green after light, a deep hue like the autumn leaves. It flickered and waned as if fading away.

  “Behold the two life forces. Gorath and yourself. Gorath’s has dwindled and faded; it cannot sustain me much longer. But yours I can bask in its energy and youth; live forever once again. All I need to do is step from one to another.”

  He lifted the totems and stepped towards the line between the two life forces. As he moved a shimmer, a shadow, a cloaked form stepped from behind Leo as if his spirit had withdrawn itself from his body. Then the Princess stepped from Leo’s side, drew Queen’s Defiance and lunged at Vane.

  Vane shrieked in surprise and dropped the totems into the bright green arc. He recovered and cast his arm aside throwing the Princess to the side. She disappeared through the opaque hue of the cocoon of light.

  “Fool!” he cried. Then paused. He reached for the totems but as his hand edged forward it froze, falling short of them. His eyes looked at Leo, surprised. Too fixed to betray any fear as Leo pulled the Alethea Totem from the pocket of his cloak. Too rooted to the ground to show the anger that welled up inside him as Leo crouched to pick up the remaining totems.

  Then Leo watched and waited. Slowly he found himself in the middle of nowhere. A place with which he was familiar; that he’d been many times before. On a windswept hill with dark clouds swirling above his head. In front of him, an arm’s length away, was a white staff planted into the ground, Vane frozen just beyond it. A figure in a black cape, his face covered by a hood, approached towards them.

  Moving erratically, like an insect scuttling over the earth, Leo felt the terror and fear building up inside him as the figure got closer and closer. The figure stopped directly in front of him and reached out a grey contorted hand towards him. Leo heard a slight whisper, perhaps a hiss. He strained his ears and for once he heard what was spoken… “Thank you…”

  The figure turned, scurried to Vane and set upon him, scratching at his eyes and face, his rotted teeth biting into Vane’s exposed neck, blood spraying to the sides, covering his face, dripping down his mouth. He pushed Vane’s body to the ground, ripped open his tunic, plunged his festering broken nails into Vane’s chest, yanking and twisting at his ribs. The bones and flesh slipping in his bloodied hands. Gorath reached into Vane and clawed out his heart, squeezing it so Vane’s dying blood squelched between his fingers.

  The green luminescence blinked and disappeared and Leo and Gorath were left on the battlefield. Gorath once again his own self could barely sustain his own body. His breathing was a hoarse rasping whisper and laboured as he spoke. Leo knelt down and placed his ear by his mouth to listen.

  “I… I… did not mean for all this. I hardly remember who I am any more. But I paid the price, and now justice has been done. In some part I have earnt my redemption and can rest in peace. Perhaps one day I will be seen for what I was. A foolish, vain man who was easily seduced to a darker path. Much that has happened is a fog to me, a perpetual fog that I had no control over.” Gorath’s breathing shuddered and he grasped Leo’s arm. “I reached out to you in your dreams and gave the world a second chance. Please remember that and do this one thing. The Quintessence Totem. Destroy it or make sure it is lost.”

  Leo nodded.

  Gorath smiled, the fear and burden lifted from his body as the last of his spirit dwindled and faded from his eyes.

  He stood up and hurried over to the Princess. She was battered and bruised but otherwise unhurt.

  “It is over,” he said.

  “Ummm well, I’m glad that you think so. I’m not sure everyone else does.”

  Leo looked around. The battle still raged around them.

  *

  The Aquamuran cavalry charged into the castle. The Horde did not see them coming as they were behind them. They powered past the ram, then entered the main gate, gaining momentum again as they cut into the ranks of the Horde infantry and archers. Many hordesmen were speared from behind until they heard the clattering of the hooves on the cobbles and dived out of the way. The cavalry train forced its way into the castle and then up to the second line. The breastplates of the stallions taking the initial impact and crumpling the line before the Horde infantry could strike at the chargers.

  As the cavalry forged past, the knights slashed down with their swords on the infantrymen. Hordesmen fell to the ground; the riders hacked from their stallions. It was difficult for the soldiers on their feet to defend themselves against the cavalry. The cavalry slowed momentarily, and then circled in front of the second line, trampling those who were still engaged there who were suddenly forced to fight to their front and rear. The Horde retreated forty foot or so, facing the wall of chargers that now stood between them and the second line.

  “Finally, I was wondering where you two had got to?” chided Dorf.

  *

  Leo and the Princess rushed down the hill to the edge of the lake by the main gate of Ampheus.

  “Do something,” she yelled.

  “Like what?”

  “Well you have the staff… think of something!”

  “I kind of figured that once Vane was dead, it would all finish.”

  “Why on earth did you think that? Everyone could go on killing each other for hours yet.”

  Leo bowed his head.

  The clouds and sky darkened above them. Thunder roared and lightning bolts hissed randomly through the heavens. He held out the staff, stirring the clouds, streaking their trails in a spiral in the sky, lightning arching up to the centre of the tornado. Then he grasped the staff in both hands. The thunder crackled from the sky above and a blazing, incandescent eruption of fire swept down from the heavens and melded with the staff.

  Leo raised his head and with all the strength he could muster drove the shaft of the Staff of Talisien into the ground. Molten flames shattered through the earth bursting outwards, splintering the ground beneath their feet.

  The earth began to ripple and shake, thr
owing soldiers to the floor and rocking them back and forth. Some managed to kneel or sit to find their balance, but many just rolled on the ground scrabbling to maintain their grip.

  Loose boulders fell from Ampheus and plunged into the lake, cracks appeared in the gate towers. Trebuchet rocked from side to side, some tipping over and collapsing into heaps of timber. The trees lurched; their roots upended, stretching out from the soils below.

  It was as if the ground was possessed, reminding the world of men how insignificant they were, tossing them from side to side like rag dolls.

  Soldiers clashed against other soldiers. Some thrown against the walls of the castle or into the lake. The cavalry and Janshai tumbled from their chargers who floundered on ground beneath.

  Piles of boulders lurched up in the air breaking bones as they landed. The water of the lake swelled and rose up into a wave that swept up across the land washing soldiers away from the castle. As they disappeared under the brown water, their arms momentarily grasped for the surface before the water once again receded, pulling the bodies into the lake.

  There was a pause as men regained their footing after the jolt.

  “Vane is dead!” shouted Leo, “Vane is dead.”

  The word spread across the battlefield. To the edges of the forest, to the Aquamuran and Windstrom commanders. Up the hill through the Horde encampment and to their generals. Into the castle, through its thoroughfares and its alleyways. Up to the second line and to the King of Ampheus.

  “Vane is dead! Vane is dead!”

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  Pass me the standard,” asked King Armanar.

  A guard on the second line rushed forward with the flag of the prancing lion on its ceremonial pole.

  The King shifted its weight in his hand and footed the pole into his stirrup. The standard fluttered in the breeze.

  King Armanar rode down the streets of Ampheus. Sumnar escorted him at his side. A muted silence had descended on the city. Most soldiers on both sides simply milled around and stepped back to let them through. Others leant on their swords. Some sat or lay on the ground where they had stumbled. The King looked upon the solemn, tired and bloody faces of the men who’d fought for both sides.

  He said a few words as he passed.

  “Now is enough.”

  “It’s time to stop.”

  “It’s time to go home.”

  Most watched him pass. Terramians would bow their heads as their King went by.

  The King pressed on through the main gate, wincing at the bodies that had fallen at the fiercest point of the fighting, and walked his horse to the muddy field where Leo sat leaning on the Staff of Talisien.

  “Well young man. That was quite a finale you put on. We’re lucky the castle is still standing. But it served its purpose. Hopefully you have done enough to draw this madness to an end.”

  They waited a few moments and then the commanders of the other armies joined them. Commander Favian of Windstrom under the standard of the Golden Griffin on a white flag. Commander Orrick of Aquamura under the standard of a galleon. Finally, General Talon of the Gamuran forces joined them with the red mountain albatross crest on a black flag. They sat looking at each other. Four tired leaders who had seen their fill of war, of young men and women dying for the wrong reasons.

  “Vane is dead,” said King Armanar.

  “Indeed, apparently it is so,” said General Talon.

  “What is your next move general?”

  He looked around the field.

  “I believe enough blood has been spilled. Perhaps it is time for a new dawn.”

  “Well said,” replied Commander Favian.

  “But surely Gamura has to answer for this barbarity. Many of the realms’ finest sons and daughters have been slain at the evil of Gamura’s actions,” Aquamura’s Commander Orrick spat.

  King Armanar sighed and raised his hand to placate the commander.

  “I think the will of man may at times lose its way, swayed by evil and corruption. Good men induced into acts by malevolent forces that they cannot comprehend. The influence of a lone voice over the masses outweighing reason and sanity.

  “It was not so long ago when I feared Ampheus and the Four Realms would fall. It is a blessing that we stand as we do today. Not victorious, because as you say the victory gained through such loss of life can only be hollow. I would say saved or rescued. And in that light we should be grateful and compassionate.

  “Perhaps this is what a new dawn requires of us. Leo the totems.”

  Leo reached into the pockets of his cloak and withdrew the totems and handed them to the King.

  The Water Totem. Commander Orrick kicked his horse forward and received it from the King.

  The Air Totem. Commander Favian similarly was presented with a totem.

  “Return these to the places where they have rested for a millennium. Celebrate them and guard them once more.”

  “Should they not simply be lost? Would the realms not be safer? Would it not prevent those lusting for power from seeking them out once again?” asked Commander Orrick.

  “Perhaps, but they are as much of the security of the Four Realms, its lands and its peoples. One day we may need them once again. Not to curse the land but to help defend it. It is a risk I am willing to take.

  “General Talon. Come forward.

  “As a symbol of peace I present the Fire Totem. Take it back to the people of Gamura as a pledge. To rebuild the kinship and harmony that once existed between our peoples.”

  Leo stepped forward, “What about the Quintessence and Alethea Totems?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I will take the advice of the council.

  “Now do I have your word? Let us put an end to these hostilities. What do you say?”

  “Aye!”

  “Aye!”

  “Aye!”

  “So, it is done. Where we can, Terramis will respectfully help lay your dead to rest. We will mend the wounded and we will provide provisions for your journeys back to your realms.

  “Send your ambassadors once again. We will meet at Drew Henge two months from this day. There is much of the future to discuss.

  “Good luck to you gentlemen.”

  “Milord.”

  The King rode back to Ampheus. In time horns sounded the retreats of the armies and the weary soldiers trudged their way back to their camps. The evening sunset was a streak of orange and pinks, which brush-stroked across the sky. Perhaps an omen of hope for those prone to superstition. The night was clear and the stars shone brightly. It was a night to lift spirits. The men rested easy around fires, tended to their wounds and toasted their fallen comrades.

  *

  Queen Laila ate with her family. Her children had grown up while she was away. They caught up with each other’s stories, stunned by what they had been through. They remembered fallen friends: Aland, Rolden, Sirion, Logar, Daylon, Halle, Saturnus and Ambassador Martis, and said a prayer for all those who had passed and their families.

  “What next?” asked the Queen.

  “Well I hope we quickly get back to some normality. The food reserves are depleted. Fields need to be sowed and animal stocks replenished. The castle needs some repairs. I fear for Celestina, they may need aid. From Gulden’s reports the women and children survived but many of its citizens perished. It may take time for Windstrom to get back on its feet. Gulden seems to be motivated to return and I’ve sanctioned a couple of units of cavalry to go with him, or at least follow after him. He’s quite taken by that griffin.”

  “He met a girl.”

  “He’s always meeting a girl.”

  “Well this time may be different. I think he’s smitten.”

  *

  Prince Aron made his apologies and stepped away from the King’s table. He wandered down to t
he guards’ quarters. Many were sat along the long tables of the dining hall. A hush rippled down the table as the men and women took notice of his arrival. He urged them to continue with a casual ‘at ease’ and then spotted who he was seeking and headed directly for them.

  Aksel, Raisa and Gulden stood up but he waved them to sit. It was Ailin he’d come to see. Perhaps she already knew. She stood, tears falling from her eyes and wept on his shoulder, her body shuddering from the pain and torment of loss.

  The next morning the two of them rode from the castle and headed to the Windfell Woods. They took the small trail from the main track up to the convent. The signs of the battle were still everywhere to be seen, weapons discarded on the ground, arrows embedded in walls and trees, and blade marks chipped into the frames of doors and windows. They walked beyond the back walls of the convent to an area under a great yew tree. Perhaps a hundred recently dug graves. Each marked not by a gravestone but a soldier’s weapon at the head of the grave. They found Flame and knelt in front of the grave. Ailin lowered some white lilies that she had picked at a village on the way.

  “I’ll give you some time.”

  The Prince stepped away and sat in the courtyard up against a cherry blossom tree. He pulled and played with the grass and waited, warmed by the sun.

  Ailin found him some time later and smiled, but he could tell she’d just wiped the tears from her eyes.

  “Thank you.”

  “There is one more thing I want to show you. Follow me.”

  He led her to the stables and showed her the carving. “I think he knew he was going to defend this post till the last. But he wanted you to know how much he loved you.”

  Ailin fell to her knees and wailed in pain, she bowed her head and reached out and felt the words scraped into the wall with her fingers.

  “If I’d let him come with me he’d be alive now!” she cried.