by Toni Cox
Fire pranced nervously in his stable, his eyes rolling wildly in their sockets. Maia laid a calming hand on his neck and it settled him enough for her to saddle him. She strapped her sword, bow and quivers to the saddle, threw her pack with her armour and medicine bag over his back and was in the saddle by the time her father led Cloud out to the plains where the Battle Dragons waited.
It had taken over an hour for everyone to prepare. Although they hardly had the hour to spare, Maia was astounded by how quickly they had managed to get ready. Their final numbers stood at ten thousand and forty-three armed men and women, of which two thousand three hundred and two were on horseback and one hundred were on their Battle Dragons. Midnight hovered in the air above the assembled army and Maia suddenly felt a surge of hope as she beheld the vast numbers and determined faces before her.
She lifted her chin, took a deep breath and fell in next to her father and Jaik as they led their army towards Greystone.
They marched all through the night, keeping close to the edge to the forest on their right. They moved with purpose and determination, their heads held proud and their armour glinting in the moonlight. By morning, Jagaer made them stop to water and feed their horses and dragons. They did not rest for long. Soon, they were marching again, the sun now glaring down on them from a crystal clear sky.
By noon, they were all sweating and those further back were caked in dust from those marching before them. They trudged along in silence, never complaining, but the excitement of going into battle had worn off. Maia noticed Jagaer’s concern as he watched his troops. They had to get there fast, but he did not want to reach the enemy exhausted either.
He called for another halt by dusk. The animals were fed and watered and the warriors were allowed to lie down and rest for a while. They would march again through the night and, by morning, Jagaer planned on giving each a flask of Silva. Silas had spent the last few Quarters brewing it. It was expensive to make and only the most skilled could do it right. Silas was a master in the craft and Jagaer knew that one flask of Silva was enough to sustain even ten Elves through the harshest conditions.
“Father,” Maia approached him as he stood surveying his troops. The sadness in his eyes worried her. “Have you heard anything from the Scouts you sent ahead?”
“No.” His voice rasped on the single word and it put Maia’s nerves on edge.
“I have just sent two more Scouts,” Jaik spoke from behind her. “They are not to engage anyone and report back as soon as they sight anything.”
“I was thinking, maybe, I could fly ahead with Midnight. I can fly high, so I am not seen, but Midnight will be able to see them, no matter how high he flies.”
Jaik’s eyes brightened for a moment, but Jagaer immediately shook his head.
“No, you need your rest too. Ask Midnight if he can do it alone, I trust that you will be able to interpret the information he retrieves.”
“They are moving towards us,” Maia repeated to the assembled Commanders.
After they had rested, they had marched some more. It was cooler at night and they made good progress. They had reached the edge of Menandril Fields just before dawn. Midnight returned as the first rays of the sun broke over the horizon. His news was dire and Jagaer immediately called council with the Commanders.
“Midnight reports that there are a few of them left at the Gate, but the bulk of their army is on the march and will be upon us within the hour.”
Maia’s voice was shaking and she felt Jaik take her hand as he stood next to her. She drew strength from his presence as she carried on.
“I estimate their army to be around twenty-five thousand strong. And they did not come alone. About half of their force is riding their beasts, the Werewolves.”
A commotion ran through the assembled men. Most were not aware of the fact that the Werewolves were fully sentient and thus able to achieve Travel. Maia watched as, one by one, the Commanders realised how hopelessly outnumbered they were. It squeezed her heart and tears threatened to overflow as the despair rolled off her people.
“Get your men ready,” Jagaer said in a quiet voice. “We will face them here. It will give us another hour to rest and prepare. Hand out the Silva. Set up defences and the war machines. Commander Hollowdale, station your Battle Dragons between us and the approaching Vampyres. Jaik, ask the rest of the Commanders to organise the different Legions into formation.”
Jagaer continued to give orders, but Maia could not listen anymore. They had talked in private before assembling the Commanders and she already had her orders. All their carefully laid out plans meant nothing in light of these new developments. No ring of dragons around the stones, no elven army to hold back the enemy, no riders to hunt any that escaped. Now they were hopelessly outnumbered and on the defensive. They were on open ground with nowhere to retreat to.
With a heavy heart, she took the saddle off Fire. She would not ride him into battle. She put her hand onto his forehead and let all her emotion flow into him, telling him to go home. He snorted his displeasure at her.
“I know, Fire, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”
A tear rolled down her cheek and she closed her eyes for a moment.
“Be safe,” she whispered as he turned and galloped back the way they had come.
She watched him only for a moment, before she turned and made her way to the edge of the army where the dragons rested. Midnight gave a soft bugle when he saw her and he immediately settled on the ground so she could lie next to him. He folded her into his wings as she curled up next to him and sobbed silently into her hands.
The silence was eerie. Their entire force was spread along the ridge in a long line, about ten people deep. Even the horses weren’t snorting their displeasure at having the dragons so close. Everyone held their breath.
Jagaer had gotten them into position only moments before. They were on a slight rise, overlooking a small beautiful valley. Grasses swayed in the morning breeze, birds darted to and fro, and a flock of geese flew overhead in a V-formation. But no one took notice of the beauty of their surroundings. Everyone had fixed their eyes on the ridge opposite. They knew the Vampyres would crest at any moment and then spill over into the valley towards them.
Maia sat on Midnight’s back, stationed about a hundred paces behind their army. Even at this distance, she could feel the tension roll off the warriors and she wondered how many of them were as afraid as she was.
Midnight shook his great head, knocking her into one of the spikes on his neck. She rubbed her ribs where the spike had struck, but she could not scold Midnight. She could sense his tension as well.
Just when she thought she could not bear it any more, the wind carried a strange noise to their ears. To her, it sounded like a deep thundering, interspersed with wild shrieks. Through Midnight, she learned that the thundering was the padding of thousands of Werewolf paws trampling the ground as they ran, and the shrieks was their yelping as they whipped to greater speed.
The Vampyres did not make a sound.
Midnight crouched, ready to spring. A horse snorted. A man coughed near her and she saw sweat drip off his chin. She looked towards the front of the army, but was unable to see her father or her brother. Her heart beat heavy in her chest and she gripped the handholds on her saddle tighter.
Then, suddenly, the Vampyres broke over the ridge like a dark tidal wave, rolling towards them relentlessly. For a moment, the Elves were silent, watching in awe as the vast horde of monsters came on. Then she heard her father shout a command and their army moved forward with determination, wariness and fear forgotten.
Maia did not have to tell Midnight what to do. As the army moved off, he rose into the air. Once he was high enough not to frighten the steeds of their own warriors, he overshot the elven army and flew toward the horde racing down the hill toward them.
As they approached, Maia felt the disgust Midnight had for the creatures he was about to extinguish. Through his eyes she saw not only their physi
cal form and facial expressions, but also their attitudes and intent.
The Werewolves were hideous creatures. They had narrow hips and odd-shaped back legs. Their shoulders were massive, their forearms long and muscled and their heads seemed to sit at an odd angle on necks that were too long. Coat colour ranged from light tan to dark brown, with only few of them so dark brown they were almost black. They all looked shaggy and some mangy. Long strings of matted fur hung off their underbellies. They ran along at an ungainly but fast pace, with the Vampyres sitting on strange saddles perched high on the beasts’ shoulders.
The Vampyres, some running, some riding, all looked the same. Snarling faces with their lips pulled back to bare sharp incisors. Their eyes were black. Soulless. Maia noticed how silent the Vampyres were compared to the Werewolves. If not for Midnight’s enhanced hearing, she would not have heard the sound that came from their running feet or when they drew their swords.
Then, the time for watching was over. The two armies were almost upon each other. Maia signalled Midnight for their first manoeuvre and he dived immediately. They had not practiced this, only the principle of it, because it could be dangerous for Maia, but Jaik was confidant it could be done and he hoped it would distract from the initial onslaught long enough for the Elves to gain the upper hand.
Maia closed her eyes and leaned closer to Midnight’s neck as he let her know he was ready. She had taken precautions. She had tied her hair and hid it under a leather helmet. She was dressed in leather from head to toe. Still, nothing could have prepared her for the heat that suddenly engulfed her, as Midnight sprayed the first row of Vampyres with fire. She felt her lungs burn as she breathed in the hot air. It lasted so long she thought she might pass out, but just when she could not take it any longer, Midnight rose high and circled, getting ready for another pass.
Maia sucked in the cool air as Midnight circled and then dared a look below. The two armies had reached each other. She watched as the first battle dragons rammed into their front line, the warriors slicing through the Werewolves with their long swords and the dragons ripping at the Werewolves with their long talons.
Some of the Werewolves trailed tendrils of smoke, but otherwise they seemed unaffected by Midnight’s fire. Warriors on foot and on horseback surged forward into the mass of creatures and, just for a moment, Maia saw the hacking and slicing and stabbing and smashing that ensued, before Midnight turned for another dive, but it had been long enough. The sight of all that blood and hurt and violence made Maia’s stomach heave. Only just in time did she close her eyes and bury her nose in her elbow before Midnight unleashed yet another stream of fire on a group of Vampyres further back.
This time, Midnight concentrated his fire in a more condensed stream and, when Maia glanced back, she saw two Werewolves down, burning, writhing on the ground. The grass all around them was on fire and so was the armour of four Vampyres, but they were still standing, shrugging out of their smouldering clothing even as she watched.
Fireproof? she thought. How is that possible?
She circled Midnight around to swoop in again. Briefly, she caught a glimpse of the rest of the army. There were pockets of fighting. She saw a group of Vampyres swarm a battle dragon and rider that had been brought to ground. She saw two Werewolves rip into a terrified horse. She saw bloody warriors locked in battle with sword swinging Vampyres. Then she was past and diving on another group.
She tried not to look again and concentrated on flying with Midnight to distract the Vampyres as much as she could. But time and time again she caught glimpses of the fighting below and her stomach ached from its convulsions. Bile kept rising into her mouth. She tried to ignore it and, instead, focused on yet another group of Vampyres Midnight headed for. She had learned by now how to deal with the heat of the fire and knew when to hold her breath before Midnight engulfed the Vampyres in flame.
This time one of the Vampyres went down alongside his Werewolf.
Ha, so not fire proof, she thought, just really tough.
She conveyed to Midnight to concentrate his fire even more. Instead of spreading it to encompass a whole lot of them, which would weaken the intensity of the flame, he would have to concentrate on individuals. If the fire was hot enough, they, too, could burn. The thought sickened her. As it was, Midnight was unable to unleash the full might of his dragon fire, as then even Maia would burn.
It was past noon when the fighting abated. The fighting had strewn the armies over a vast area and Maia had to fly for a while before she spotted her father. She asked Midnight to land close by. Before she could even speak to her father and find out details, her body gave in. She retched until there was nothing left in her stomach. Her entire body ached, her head hurt and her mind reeled with all the destruction around her. She closed her eyes and leaned against Midnight’s shoulder. His warmth was comforting.
After a short while she felt a little stronger and stepped away from Midnight to survey her surroundings. A beautiful blue sky, with the sun high and bright, belied the devastation before her. Most of the Werewolves and Vampyres lay dead, in their own blood. The people were bloody and exhausted, but most of those she saw were not seriously injured. Some were lying still, their bodies contorted, and she knew there was no hope for those. Death had claimed them already.
They had also lost most of their horses. The men spread out across the field, looking for their wounded to be taken to Silas and her for healing, and dispatched anything else that still lived. Mercy for the horses, punishment for the Vampyres.
Silas joined her then and together they saw to the people that were brought to them. Some had horrifying wounds, but after all the killing, healing her people made her feel better. She gave the warriors her thanks and graced them with her smile and she saw in them new hope.
The people sat, resting, with heads bowed over their knees, when two Scouts came running across the field. They were dirty and sweaty and clearly out of breath. They relayed their news to Jagaer in stops and starts. More Vampyres had come through, and more Werewolves. There was a group of about fifty mounted Vampyres heading for the mountain, while another group of more than five hundred was marching towards their location. They would be here within half an hour.
Jagaer sent messengers to gather his Commanders. They arrived, most of them bloodied and bruised, within minutes. He saw the despair in their eyes, their tiredness and fear, but he also saw determination and knew they would not give up.
“You have all done well. We have managed to dispatch the bulk of their army. But I have to ask you for more. Their rear guard will be upon us soon. Most of them are on foot, about five hundred of them. We will advance to the ridge and meet them there. Fighting among the dead will only hinder us. Drink your Silva while we march, there is no time to rest now.”
Maia watched as the Commanders moved off, giving orders to march.
Even the dragons look tired, their heads are dropping, Maia thought as five of them were led past where she sat.
They had lost almost all of their horses and most were now on foot. She tried to estimate how many people they had lost, but it was difficult to say. Two hundred, maybe three hundred? She shuddered, but then wondered how they had managed to sustain so little losses in the face of such overwhelming odds.
“Maia,” Jagaer said, sounding tired, “I need you to take Midnight and your thirty Dragon Warriors and see if you can head off the group marching toward the mountains. Stop them at all costs. Once they get into the mountains, it will be difficult to track them. We have no way of knowing where they are going, but our families are in those mountains and I will not leave their fate to chance. Do not let any escape.”
He turned then and climbed onto Cloud’s back. The stallion snorted, the smell of blood thick in his nose.
Jaik came to her then, his face smeared with blood and a cut on his right thigh. He briefly took her in his arms and then held her by her shoulders.
“Be careful.” He kissed her on her sweaty forehead. “The V
ampyres are clever, they are good with the sword and their Werewolves are as intelligent as dragons, so watch your back. I cannot lose you.”
He hugged her fiercely again and then led her over to Midnight to help her mount.
“Wait.” Maia stopped him before he lifted her onto Midnight’s leg. “Let me heal your cut at least.”
He protested, but she bent over his thigh and let the energy flow through her. It wasn’t a deep cut and it stopped bleeding immediately. It hardly required any energy at all, and she felt better for healing it. She kissed her brother and then ran up Midnight’s leg. She was in the saddle before Jaik could say anything further.
Midnight’s wings stirred up the dust and Jaik raised an arm to shield his eyes. Irritated he wiped a tear from his eyes, knowing the tear had nothing to do with the dust.
She will be fine, there is nothing to worry about, he thought, but couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong.
Commander Evandeor Hollowdale was Commander of the Regiment from Thala Yll and she had met him for the first time when they chased the Vampyres into their territory. She had worked with him over the last few Quarters and had discovered he had a sharp mind and an inner strength that made people follow and respect him. He was a good man to have at her back.
They were now flying side by side in silence. His warriors and their dragons spread out behind them. One of the Scouts had pointed them in the direction the Vampyres had gone, but so far, there was no sign of them. Maia was getting worried. Midnight felt the same. The forest loomed large only a few miles ahead of them. She did not want to insult the Commander by insinuating that his dragons were slow, but she was considering flying ahead to scout for the Vampyres. Then Midnight made her aware of movement ahead. It was still too far away for even her eyes to see, but Midnight rumbled deep in his chest, alerting the other dragons to the disturbance and she felt their acknowledgment.