John raised his wand. "Honour!" he called.
"Honour to the Wandmaster!" came the united response. Then he went to high spot overlooking the plain, apart from them all and stood alone. He raised his wand high and called on the crystals to commune with the sand and dust on the floor of the plain, and to cause them to rise into the air and form a cloud. In answer, a layer of dust started to rise and a wind whipped it, adding to it and turning it so that it built into the shape of a funnel. John's dust storm became a tornado and started to move with purpose across the flat terrain below, spewing out firey sparks as it went. Then John stepped down and joined the others. "I will hold this thing in my mind all the time you need it. I hope it will be enough to even the odds enough in your favour. But you need to go soon."
Jet was already mustering his men and after a little pointing and conferring with Gothrik, the guardians were ready.
Menoneth grasped the shoulder of his son Gilladen in wordless farewell, and then that of John, before turning to lead the guardians off with Jetham and Gothrik, down the slopes to the floor of the plain following after the ever-growing whirlwind. Vilma remained stubbornly behind, and said to John, "You didn't call me, but I'm coming whether you like it or not. I won't be much use in a fight in the plain, but I might come in useful in Athrak."
"I wanted someone with Menoneth for communication purposes." He explained.
"Torrel our temple priest is with them, Young Sharilla is quite gifted, and to a degree Menoneth himself. I will be able to tap into their heads if need be."
"Ok then. Let's get going. My sand storm has a mind of its own from what I can see, and doesn't need my management." It had grown in height and was gathering more and more dust into its funnel as it coursed ahead of the Guardian group. It had started to attract attention down on the plain, but shrouded very effectively those following on. The Akryd and lo's had set up a high-pitched whine, and agitated clicks began to fill the air.
Vilma shook her head in wonder, "Very impressive." She closed her eyes for a moment and when she re-opened them, she said, "Tharrios and his men are in position. May the crystals be with them and with all of us this day."
John nodded at her, once again surprised at how the crystal wand worked for him, then he and his small, but exceptional group set off along the hill crest Northward to the lair of Ataxios. Climbing the surrounding hillsides, they moved speedily with few supplies and practiced legs and, as they crowned a hillock, John threw a quick look over his shoulder back at the plain behind him, and saw the huge funnel of his tornado ploughing through it. The rest was up to the skills of the Guardians and their newly found brethren from the Wildlands. He, John Stone, Wandmaster, was needed elsewhere, and he turned his attention to the task of reaching Athrak.
Gnath strained his eyes to see across the vast plain. Size was hard to judge and he could only judgee the tornado's force by trees that it passed and ripped out of the ground. By his assessment it was huge and growing larger. Things did not look good, and his troops were out in the open, not to mention the Akryd, which was in the centre of the exposed terrain. Whatever happened, she must be got to safety; there were very few hiding places in the surrounding hills large enough and sheltered enough to give her protection, but his eyes scanned the surrounding rocky slopes in desperation.
He opened his mouth, strained his neck and sent out a string of clicks and whines, so that the group of lo's with the precious Akryd began to try to shepherd her towards Gnath. He called several of the spindly captains to him and questioned them on their knowledge of the area. They often patrolled the plain, and one of them pointed at a dark feature in the hillside behind and slightly south of Gnath's position. Gnath communicated with the lo's herding the swaying bulk of the Akryd, and they made for the shelter of a generous natural cave. The wind had picked up in the meantime and dust flew into their eyes and noses, partially blinding them and making it even harder to distinguish shapes or movement.
Gnath took a swipe at the head wobbling on his chest in frustration. "Curse this wind, and blast the dust to total darkness! There's devilry at work here."
"Glarghgle ghlurg!" agreed the head, and saliva dribbled from its open mouth and mixed with the dust, which tried to choke it. Gnath took a few powerful strides and was down on the floor of the plain in a trice. "Fourteen, Fifty and Nine!" he called his spindly captains by their allotted numbers, and three long legged creatures came loping up.
"Get your numbers to shelter in the hills behind boulders and rocks and pass the message on to the others!"
"Clickkkkkkrrrrrwhinnnne, clickckickk, kikikikik Whinne." sounds emanated from his throat now, and the remaining lo's joined the companies of troops leaving their carefully arranged positions on the plain. They were making a rather disorderly retreat under the captaincy of Gnath. The tornado grew and grew, sweeping up undergrowth, bush and tree, and carried on its way straight for them. Gnath himself lost no time and headed for the cave mouth where the Akryd was to be housed. There was no fighting a whirlwind. Better to get out of its path and regroup later. As his feet pounded the earth and his heavy body ran powerfully, his lo head puzzled over the sudden appearance of the tornado. He had never heard of such a large one, and never in the plain. He knew the Wandmaster was in the vicinity, but he had heard of no other Wandmaster having power over the winds; was this tornado just a co-incidence, he wondered. "Bah! I have never believed in co-incidence and I won't start now. His hand is behind this somehow, eh head?"
"Cough, ghlarg, cough cough!" agreed the head as it lolled along.
Menoneth, Jet, and the guardians were in companies of roughly 30. They had anticipated a hand-to-hand battle against overwhelming odds, but so far they had only used their feet. The tornado was ahead of them, and racing. They could only try to keep pace with it and hope they would be able to strike when the thing eventually swirled out of their path. Nasal voices screamed in terror as spindlies were swept up into the funnel of the raging tornado. Their ranks broke entirely and many of them started to try to skirt it and run past it and behind it....into the waiting swords of the Guardians and the Wildlanders, who hacked them down one by one as they appeared.
Menoneth was single-minded about one thing. He wanted to destroy the Akryd. It was a danger to the Wandmaster all the time it lived and to his guardians. It had also ruined his son, Wes, and Menoneth was in no mood to forgive. Jet eyed him anxiously, knowing that there was little he could do to prevent him from going after the beast, but determined to be at his side when he did. The tornado before them was shielding them from enemy eyes, and though he was grateful, he felt blinded and was unhappy. As confused spindlies appeared out of the dust, he joined his guardians in reducing their numbers, and his sword swished and parried as he tasted the blood of battle, all the time keeping his guardian Lord, Menoneth within range of protection. He didn't want to lose sight of him at any cost. Second to their protection of the Wandmaster, the guardians had been trained to protect their guardian lord, and Menoneth found himself well-supported as he also fought off the spindlies. The tornado eventually reached the far edge of the plain and had nowhere else to go. It powered into the rock face ahead of it, tearing off boulders, sucking them up into its funnel and spewing some of them out at the surrounding area. The lo's and spindlies that had taken shelter behind them being sucked up in turn. Then, the tornado rose up the side of the cliff face and seemed to falter, drop in speed and intensity and then simply disappear over the high far rim of the mountain plain.
Covered in dust, the guardians regrouped around Jet, Menoneth and Gothrik to count their losses. spindlies lie in large numbers around the long straight passage the tornado had taken, together with the lo's that had been sheltering in the rocky terrain. Some guardians had sustained injuries, but they were mercifully few, due to the combined effects of the tornado and the clean-up operation that took place at its periphery by the Wildlanders. There was no sign of the Akryd.
Slowly they recovered their equilibrium and Gothrik m
ustered them in groups in a circle looking outward and mounted the most robust on look-out while permitting the remaining guardians to sit and rest, the injured at the innermost point of their circle. The Wildlanders were tireless, and continued their scourge of whatever spindlies they could rout out into the open.
Menoneth scanned the area, "Where is the beast? Could it have been sucked up in the whirlwind?"
"Possibly," answered Jet "but until we're sure, we should not leave this place. When our guardians have recovered sufficiently we will search the area and leave no stone unturned until we are satisfied that the danger to the Wandmaster from that monstrosity has been eradicated."
Gnath, in his hideout in the cave looked furtively out at the scene below him on the plain. His forces had been severely diminished, and he was left now with only the few lo's and sniffers protecting the Akryd. In the confined space of the rocky refuge, he considered his options. The huge beast was restless and over-ripe, craving to lay into new victims, his small company of lo's were finding it hard to hold her. The tornado had passed, and his cave was not a good enough hiding place – the guardians were showing no signs of leaving and would probably soon mount a search of the area. His spindlies were under attack. The odds had shifted and were no longer heavily in his favour. What to do? He looked back into the cave at the swaying monstrous beast and decided on a plan. He threw his head back and issued a series of clicks and whines which caused agitated activity among his small company of lo's.
They brought her to the cave entrance, along with the sniffers and their handlers, and then, deciding that haste was probably to his advantage, Gnath ordered the handlers to release the leather bonds that tethered both the Akryd and the sniffers. Gnath in the meantime called his lo guards around him, and as the huge swaying bulk of the Akryd eased its way out of the cave-mouth, and as the sniffers, enraged by the scent of blood from the plain headed full pelt downwards, he ordered them to follow. Then he himself set off by the shortest route he knew away from the plain and back to the familiar tunnels of Athrak. Saving his hide was uppermost in his mind, and Ataxios had already fled, so it seemed his best option. Whatever happened on the plain now was a matter of no concern to him, except that he would have to find a convincing lie to tell his master to explain why his precious Akryd had been abandoned.
The guardian scouts picked up movement in the hillside, and started pointing in alarm at the hurtling sniffers heading towards them slavering and yelping. They were huge-bodied strong animals with vicious teeth and wouldn't be brought down easily. Quickly, Jet and Gothrik got the most able guardians on their feet with swords at the ready. It was to their advantage that so many spindly forms lie wasted and bleeding on the ground, but the sniffers had been trained for other prey and while one or two were satisfied to sate their hunger on the skinny bleeding corpses, there were four enormous beasts that were single-mindedly heading for the guardian throng. The Wildlanders, quickly took in the situation and extended their thrust into the centre of the plain to try to cut off the beasts.
Menoneth, in the meantime had spotted the Akryd and it too was ambling down towards them with its over-ripe belly dangling and swaying as it sensed new hosts for its larvae. It was all instinct. It was time to lay and it needed to find bodies in which to do so.
The sniffers were remarkably agile for all their bulk and when they were within range, leaped at the guardians with ferocity. Sharilla, who was in the front line as the first sniffer arrived, knelt abruptly and thrust her sword up into its throat as it dived for her face, and with a screech of pain and anguish, the beast fell to the dusty ground, thrashing around, only to be finished off by Gothrik, who was at her side. The fate of the first slowed for a while the three that followed, and they started to circle the group, warily now and seemingly working together in a pack, waiting for an opportunity to strike, maybe at a weaker member or one separated from the group.
"Maintain formation!" yelled Gothrik. "Each beast to be marked by at least three men. Don't take your eyes off your own target!" Tension grew as the circling beasts held the guardians in their gaze and all the while the Akryd grew closer and closer to the guardian group.
Menoneth trained all his intent on the swaying, lumbering body of the Akryd as it approached. He hated this beast and wanted it dead. But more than that, he wanted it dead by his own hand. Jet sensed Menoneth's impatience, "Don't break ranks!" he yelled. "Not till these three demons have been put down!" Menoneth nodded slightly but kept his eyes and all his malice on the Akryd. Closer it came, the details of its head, its myriad eyes, antennae and also its acidic smell, becoming clearer and more unpleasant with every instant. It had almost reached the floor of the plain, and from there it was just a short distance to the guardians, who were also very aware of its plans for them. The few remaining sniffers sensed the growing unease within the group, and waited, hoping for a sudden break in the circle, allowing them to strike. The remnants of the lo's were following on and awaiting an opportunity to attack, but wiling to let the sniffers wear down their opponents first. A few brave Wildlanders were hacking at the Akryd as it waddled by them, but their blows just bounced off the thick carapace and steel-like legs.
The guardians were not going to survive without losses. The Sniffers were intent on their kill and lo's were closing in on the group as time passed and the stalemate held. Gothrik watched the Akryd getting closer, and decided that a new plan was needed. He moved among his guardians, directing from within the circle. They began to reform into small groups. One, the inner group protecting the injured, three other groups for the sniffers and one final group for the Akryd and any lo's still around. The groups now broke away from the central circle, each one moving out toward a sniffer. The beasts backed warily away, snapping, growling and threatening, but the guardians now moved stealthily to encircle their prey. The hunters became the hunted. Slowly, the beasts were surrounded, which made them desperate, heads snapping from side to side as they tried to keep track of their assailants. They were fierce and strong, but the guardians had sharp swords. The group, containing Menoneth, Jet, and the remaining guardians, now splintered off from the circle and made for the Akryd as it grew ever closer.
Cornered now, isolated and unable to work in packs, the sniffers became fearful and as the guardians, swords raised slowly closed in around them, one by one, they had no escape and desperately leapt at their captors with all the strength they could muster, driven by blood lust and fear. In flurries of activity, the sniffers attacked but were slain by the waiting guardian blades, not before leaving some nasty wounds with their teeth and claws, but down they went.
The Akryd, untroubled, had only one instinct, and it drove her towards her prey. The guardians were scattered around in groups now and this confused the beast; so many possibilities. Gothrik quickly organized his groups to hunt out any remaining sniffers still feeding on the corpses strewn around and kill them. The Wildlanders were ferocious and the lo's and remaining spindlies were either scattering or engaged in their own battles. They were also basically undirected now that Gnath was not directing them. In the meantime, Jet and Menoneth, with their own fifteen or so guardians moved off in the direction of the Akryd. It halted, sensing that its prey was coming closer, and focused its attention on the approaching group. Usually it had an accompaniment of lo's to capture and hold down the chosen hosts, but this creature knew nothing of that, it only knew that it had to lay its larvae and that its time had come. It launched itself in a spurt of lumbering speed at the guardian group, and with its long forelegs, which were like pincers, and managed to grasp Yseth. In a trice, he was on the ground, face down, pinned with long spiky claws, and the belly was hovering over his shoulder blades, ready to sink her larva into his body. The beast's ecstasy was punctuated by a high-pitched note that came in short bursts, and by Yseth's terrified scream. As one, the remaining guardians pounced, and swords stabbed at the carapace, but to no avail – it was as hard as steel, and their blades had no effect.
Menone
th watched in horrified fascination as the beast started to squat lower over Yseth, apparently untroubled by any guardian blade, and he thought no longer. He dashed under the beast, put himself between Yseth and the lowering belly, and thrust his swordupwards for all he was worth. Jet, taken by surprise, wasn't quick enough to prevent him, and now he was powerless as his Lord Guardian lie suffocating under the bulk of the screeching Akryd.
"Quick! Push the beast off them!" he yelled, and in panicked confusion, the guardians rushed forward, heaving with all their might to push it off balance and topple it away from Menoneth and Yseth. It was so heavy, and now its body had been pierced by Menoneth, it was splitting open and a spew of writhing larvae was pouring out in a sticky liquid, making it hard to get a grip. The smell was putrid, and one or two of the guardians actually retched, struggling violently not to throw up. "Quickly!" yelled Jet again, and other guardians, who were not actively engaged in battle, came running to join their comrades.
Eventually, after some pulled and others pushed, the body, now greatly weakened and a lot lighter, toppled sideways, and they were able to drag Menoneth and Yseth clear. Both were blue and unconscious. Yseth had been face-down in the dust but had managed to keep his nose a little raised on one arm, so had avoided total suffocation, and soon revived. Menoneth had been smothered by the great guts of the beast and the sticky liquid had entered his mouth and nose, effectively drowning him in it and cutting off any air supply. A Wandguard healer was busy washing him clean with what little water they had available, while trying to get him to breathe. But the sticky substance clung. He did not move and remained a sickly blue colour, while the Akryd writhed, hissed and slowly also ceased to move a short distance away in the dust. Far away in the caverns of Athrak, Ataxios witnessed the scene in his seeing-orb and let out an ear-splitting shriek, spittle flying in rage and loss, cursing Gnath, his lo's, the spindlies, the guardians and most of all the Wandmaster, who wasn't even there. He took comfort in the demise of Menoneth, but his plans to make the Wandmaster a lo had gone sadly wrong.
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