by Toni Cox
“There is a rider,” Jaik shouted across to his father and pointed towards the mountains.
Jaik had assembled his Guard, half the Night Watch and just over a third of the Sentinels within minutes of them sounding the alarm. Commander Arkenbay took to the skies immediately and Commander Ridgewell had been given orders to follow with the Regiments. In the chaos, he had no time to speak with Maia, but assumed she would probably fly ahead with Midnight. At least she would be safe with him. He hoped so.
Silas had chosen to go with them as well and they galloped at pace across the flat expanse of the Grazing Grounds and around the last ridges of the mountains before they gave way to the Yllitar Plains. Then, free of the shelter the mountains provided for the Grazing Grounds, they spurred their horses to even greater speed. They were not only driven by their need to reinforce their troops at Greystone, but to provide them with the support and leadership of their Lord Regent. It gave their forces strength to see their leader fighting beside them.
They covered about twenty miles when Jaik spotted the rider galloping towards them from the west. They slowed their horses and let the rider catch up with them. It was immediately apparent that he had been riding hard and for a long time; his horse was almost dead on its feet.
“My Lords,” the man said breathlessly, “I come with word from Lord Tallson. Tarron Heights is about to fall to the Vampyres.”
“When did you leave there?” Jagaer asked the man.
“I left two days ago, My Lord.”
“You made it through the mountains in two days?” Jaik asked, astonished.
“Aye, the situation is dire. We cannot hold them any longer. We beg for your assistance.”
Jagaer looked towards the south, in the direction of the gate and then looked at Jaik. He knew what was going through his father’s head; the enemy was at the Gate and their closest ally was about to fall. Whom to help? They did not have enough forces at their disposal to send help both ways, but they did not really have a choice. Jaik saw in his father’s eyes when he made the decision.
“Jaik, take your Guard and the Sentinels and ride to Lord Tallson’s aid. I will ride with Silas and the Night Watch to Greystone. Make haste, my son, save our friends.”
“Yes, Father,” he said, and turned to give the orders to his men.
“I am unable to follow,” the Messenger said, “my horse is at its end. I trust you know the shortest way through the mountains?”
“Yes, fret not; we will get there in time. Rest your horse. There is a Regiment behind us. If you wait here a while, they will be able to provide you with food and water,” Jaik reassured the man.
“Thank you My Lord.”
Nodding to his men, he gave the order to move out. He cast one last glance towards his father, but he had already turned and was galloping the other way. Time was of the essence now. He spurred his horse to greater effort and led his men towards the mountains.
Through Midnight’s eyes, the distances had not looked so great, but it was another hour before they came upon the first battle. Midnight circled overhead, unable to assist, as there was chaos below. Maia was unable to tell the number of Vampyres and Werewolves on the battlefield. It looked like the dragon riders had spent all their arrows and were fighting on foot now. The dragons, too, were mostly grounded and in battle with their teeth, claws, and tails.
Maia could not see her father in the chaos before her, but knew he would be right in the middle of it. She asked Midnight to see if he could locate his exact position. It was not long before Midnight confirmed the location of her father, but Maia then stopped him from engaging in the battle. Instead, she asked Midnight to fly towards the mountains to assist her brother. She thought it strange that he rode that way, but was sure he had good reason. The group of Vampyres attacking Jaik’s men was large; Jaik was outnumbered at least three to one; Midnight would be needed there.
She took only a moment to watch him fly off and then urged Fire forward and into battle. Rothea gave a fierce shout behind her and followed close behind. The smell of blood all around her turned her stomach, but the adrenaline rushing through her veins kept her from getting sick.
Commander Ridgewell and his men spread out and started eliminating the Vampyres fighting on the outskirts of the battle raging in front of them. Maia felt the horses’ panic as the Werewolves retaliated. Fire also trembled in fear as she raced past the beasts, fighting her way to the position she knew her father to be in.
She used mainly her sword, for the longer reach, but often she would employ her magic to keep the Vampyres at bay. She lashed out with her Firewhip; the technique she had developed instead of throwing a fire ball; and it left horrifying burn marks on the Vanpyres’ skin.
The closer she got to her father, the more crowded the fight became. Fire screamed and kicked at the Werewolves, while Maia battled the Vampyres. Rothea tried her best to keep anyone from reaching Maia, but she was soon swamped by attacking Vampyres and they were separated.
Soon all Maia saw was the spray of blood and the Vampyres’ grotesque faces as they died before her. The sight reminded her of the visions she’d had the day she came back from Earth. Briefly, she wondered if those visions had been a premonition of this event, but then the next Vampyre was upon her and she cut his head off in one clean movement.
“Father,” she yelled as she finally caught sight of him.
He acknowledged her only with a brief glance; he was beset by three Generals and fighting hard; but Maia knew instantly he was upset with her. He had always maintained that she should do all her fighting from Midnight’s back, like she had mostly done during the war the previous year, so that she would remain safe. Midnight fought better and wrought more destruction without her and she believed she needed to fight beside her people. Besides, her fighting abilities were now such, she was able to compete with the best of them, including her brother.
Quickly she shook the annoyance at her father’s accusing glance off and rushed in to assist him. He was surrounded by his men, all battling at least two Vampyres at a time. It seemed that these Vampyre Generals were completely aware of whom her father was and that he was to be killed at all cost. Maia noticed that the lower ranking Vampyres were all on the outer edges of the battle, fending off the dragons and their warriors and all the Generals were here, surrounding her father.
The fight was too thick to charge in on her horse, so she jumped off Fire and sent him away. She hoped he would find his way out of the battle by himself and run to safety. Once on the ground, Maia reached for her Twin Blades. No one, not even Jaik, could best her with this weapon and she now put it to the use it was intended for. Suppressing her nausea, she jumped straight into the fight. Immediately two Generals singled her out and she was hard-pressed to defend herself. Then she found her rhythm and her blades twirled gracefully before her, severing limbs and heads as she advanced, blood spraying around her in all directions.
The scene was all too familiar; visions of the battle of Greystone came to her mind and how she had fought alongside Blaid. With him, surrounded by their magic, the fighting had seemed effortless. Everything had slowed and become clearer. She had felt none of the nausea and revulsion and together they had waded through the masses, dealing death as they went along as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Back then, all her thoughts had been on saving her people, and not on the act itself. She had not been afraid for herself, had not been tired or weary and had revelled in the power their magic unleashed.
Today, things were different. She was all too aware of the strength and speed of the Generals and it took all her concentration to fend them off. Every time her blades hit flesh, a wave of nausea washed over her and she had to fight for control. Soon she felt her arms tire and sweat dripped off her forehead. The sounds of metal striking against metal were overly loud in her ears.
“Get her out of here.”
She heard her father’s command, but was too busy fighting to see who would execute it. Another Va
mpyre went down before her; she heaved as she stepped over him.
“Maia.”
She turned at the familiar sound of Silas’ voice. He was dirty and there was blood on his shirt, but his grey eyes had a dangerous shine to them. She thought it strange to see him like this; he was her mentor, teacher of magic and wisdom. He was older than anyone else she had ever met, yet at that moment he looked like a young man in his prime.
A sword whistled past her and grazed her sleeve. Quickly she turned and blocked the next slash, but it was Silas who drove his sword through the Vampyre’s neck to kill him.
“Let us go,” Silas yelled and grabbed her arm, dragging her away.
They fought their way through the battle, but it was already clear that it was gradually coming to an end. Although the numbers here had been about even, the dragons had made a big difference in the outcome. Maia noticed, although the dragons ripped the Vampyres and Werewolves to shreds with their teeth, they did not consume the flesh. She was grateful for it.
“What were you thinking? Where is Midnight?” Silas said when they were at a safe distance.
“Midnight has flown to help Jaik. His troop is under attack. Why is Jaik going into the mountains?”
“Tarron Heights is still under siege and they are about to fall. Your father sent Jaik to assist them. How do you know they were being attacked?”
“Midnight showed me. That is why I came here. He said Father was here.”
“Maia,” Silas said, shaking his head, “you know your father does not want you here. It is not safe for you.”
“It is not safe for anyone,” she countered.
They watched in silence for a while as their warriors finished on the battlefield. A few Vampyres fled, but most were dead. The field was littered with the grotesque shapes of the dead. Her father walked among them, dealing the deathblow to anything that still lived.
Finally, he made his way over to them.
“As you are already here, you might as well be useful,” Jagaer said, his voice tight. “The wounded are over there. See to them.”
“Yes, Father.”
Circling the killing ground, she made her way to the small group of people her father indicated. None had fatal injuries, but she hurried to get to them nonetheless. Rothea joined her there to assist and Maia was glad she was all right.
“Lady Maia, you are a sight for sore eyes,” one of the men greeted her, and she smiled at him.
Most of the injuries were cuts, some deeper than others, which were easy to heal. She mainly used the peoples’ own energy to heal them and made quick progress. The worst injury was a missing finger.
“I am sorry, My Lady, it is lost,” the man replied when she asked him where it was.
Had the finger been present, she might have been able to reattach it. Instead, she sealed the wound as best she could and then gave the man a small bag of a powder for pain.
“Thank you, My Lady, may the Mother bless you.”
With the injured seen to, she rejoined her father, now in discussions with his Commanders. Maia and Rothea went to stand next to Evan. She was glad the Commander was all right and she noticed his dragon preening his wing not too far away. Trying not to be noticed by her father, she listened in on the conversation.
“… but a small group. There are probably more up ahead,” her father was saying.
“Aye, My Lord,” Commander Ridgewell agreed. “Midnight showed us exactly where the fighting is happening; that is why we came here with all haste. Braérn’s warriors are fighting to the east, the Gate is overrun, there are smaller battles to the south, and another close to the Dark Forest. Even your son was attacked, but Midnight has flown to aid him.”
Lord Longshadow was silent for a moment, considering this new information and his options. Maia watched his emotions play across his face; he had difficult decisions to make. Her father was here with the Night Watch; about forty-odd people. Commander Arkenbay had fifty-one men and Maia came with about sixty. They were not a large group; roughly one hundred and fifty warriors, plus fifty-one dragons. Their options were limited.
“We ride for Greystone,” her father was now saying; she had expected it. “If we ride fast, we can make it there in less than two hours. Commander Arkenbay, may I ask you to fly ahead and assist where you can until the rest of us get there?”
“Yes, My Lord, we will leave at once.”
“Thank you.” Her father nodded to Rowlean, and the Commander turned to give his orders.
Evan briefly touched her on her shoulder before he left and Maia gave him an encouraging smile.
“Everyone else, mount up,” her father shouted and the crowd that had gathered around him dispersed. “Maia,” he said once most of them were gone, “I want you to remain here until you are able to join up with Midnight. I do not want you on the ground. Rothea, these are my orders, see that they are followed.”
“Yes, My Lord,” Rothea said.
“Father …”
“No,” he said with force, but then put his hand gently on her shoulder, “this time you need to listen to me. This is too dangerous and your mother would never forgive me if anything happened to you. We will have need of you soon enough, until then I want you to remain safe.”
“Yes, Father.”
He kissed her lightly on her forehead and mounted his horse, the white stallion prancing restlessly as her father put his foot in the stirrup. She watched the assembled men mill for a moment and then they were in formation, riding towards the Gate.
They were left standing in a cloud of dust, with Rothea’s horse snorting nervously at being left behind.
“What do we do now, My Lady?” Rothea asked.
“We follow, of course.”
Rothea grinned at her. “I am not the only one that doesn’t listen,” she said, and then whistled.
They heard a whinny and through the dust Fire galloped towards them. He came to a halt, snorting and shaking his head. Maia touched his sweaty neck to calm him and then climbed into the saddle. He pranced beneath her as she waited for Rothea to mount.
“Let us go to war, my friend. Are you ready?”
“Aye, My Lady, I am ready.”
Jaik reined in Firestorm as soon as he got the mental nudge from Midnight. Quickly he had his men spread out in formation and face the direction Midnight had indicated. Within moments, the horde of mounted Vampyres came into view; their Werewolves running full tilt towards them.
“Hold your ground,” Jaik ordered.
Their horses snorted in fear at the sight of the advancing Werewolves and they were hard pressed to keep them steady. Jaik knew they had reason to be afraid; he counted at least seventy Vampyres, if not more, and all were mounted. His group only numbered forty-one. He drew his sword.
“Hold!” he repeated his order.
He felt the tension roll off his men as the horde advanced, but, as they came closer, Jaik realised that these were not Generals, rather simple soldiers. At least that was something to be thankful for.
“Now!” he yelled when the enemy was almost upon them.
They came together with swords clashing and the hounds and horses screaming. Within moments, Jaik was covered in blood as he slashed and stabbed at the creatures around him. Firestorm kicked out furiously at the snapping Werewolves and more than once Jaik heard a satisfactory yelp as her hooves made contact; she was turning out to be a brave warhorse, just as he had known.
Soon, though, it was obvious they were not only outnumbered, but also at a disadvantage; the Werewolves were as dangerous as the Vampyres. Slowly, but steadily, they were driven back; it was not long before he saw some of his men fall to the Vampyres’ weapons. He watched in horror as the Werewolves fell on the downed horses and started to eat them. Some of them were not dead yet and their screams as they were eaten alive grated against Jaik’s nerves.
He fought wildly on and yelled encouragement to his men, but the situation became more hopeless the longer they fought. His Guard were holding
their ground. The Sentinels, however, not trained for this sort of battle, were falling one by one. Jaik estimated at least ten of them dead already. All seemed to be lost.
“Fall back!” he yelled, suddenly elated. “Retreat. Ride as fast as you can.”
His men did not hesitate and they fought their way out of the milling horde and broke free, galloping towards the mountains. Behind them, the Vampyres urged their Werewolves to greater speed, but Jaik knew they stood no chance.
A wicked grin spread across his face as he heard the first screams and the sound of Midnight’s fire washing over their pursuers. He chanced a quick glance behind and briefly saw Midnight’s huge, black form emerge from an enormous fire cloud, before he dived back into it.
As they put distance between them and the beset Vampyres, the screams began to fade. None would escape Midnight’s wrath, yet he did not slow their pace until they eventually reached the tree line of Grildor-Bron Forest.
Jaik led his men through the mountains. A path that led to Tarron Heights was well trodden and safe, but would take them at least three to four days, even at a steady canter. Instead, he took the route the Messengers took. It was steep in places, with unsure footing at the best of times, but it was the shortest way to Tarron Heights.
He thought about what the man said. He left two days ago, and Tarron Heights had been about to fall. By the time they reached the city, four days would have passed. He wondered if there would be anything left to save when they got there.
Tarron Heights was a mountain stronghold, built on the side of a cliff; tall, white turrets pointing into the sky; narrow, cobbled streets winding through the houses built into the mountain. He always thought it a wondrous place; a white city clinging to the cliffs, surrounded by forest and the river rushing past it.
The city was not just pretty. Its position on the mountain gave it the unique ability to defend itself from any attack below. Tarron Heights had been under siege for a few Quarters now, but until now they had no trouble holding the Vampyres off. Jaik did not think the people of Tarron Heights had run out of food or water, so he assumed that somehow the Vampyres must have found a way in.