by C. L. Murray
He repelled all before him with each fierce swing of the Crystal Blade, batting off one after another that dared spring with knifing claws upon the lions’ broad backs. Driving them back toward the city, he knew there would soon be no doubt in Felkoth’s mind that his kingdom was in dire jeopardy. Now he would have no choice but to relinquish his foothold in the Eaglemasters’ realm and come here, to Korindelf, where all would finally meet him.
Submerged in spiked horns and blackened, gnawing teeth, the city of Veleseor sat broken in Felkoth’s shadow while he stood, uncontested, within Bloodsong’s grasp. With his minor wounds from the previous night’s affairs bandaged and concealed, he spat at thoughts of the boy who’d acted so tirelessly to stall him, aiding the Eaglemasters’ people in their northward escape. He’d bought them nothing more than a few hours before their inevitable undoing.
All four remaining cities whitened beneath this, their final dawn, and he stirred at the sound of Bloodsong’s rumbling throat, which ached to liquefy their foundations and give his new herds a long-desired feast. But… there was something sharp, digging into him like an insect’s prod, drawing his attention to the Dark Blade, which, he now realized with a start, rang with the shrill cries of ambush from Korindelf. It was being taken, right from his own clutches! And, there were many assailants, breaking through the lines he’d commanded to defend, at all costs! The city would soon fall, and his servants along with it, unless he intervened.
Looking down upon the tide ready to spread destruction throughout the Eaglemasters’ realm, he judged from Valdis’s inaction that they would be quite undisturbed if he left for a short while. And if he should come upon any Eaglemasters at Korindelf, perhaps launching this assault to lure him away from their lands, it would only speed him faster to drown every last one of Valdis’s people in fire.
“Hold the city!” he fumed harshly to the ferotaurs. “And do not stray before my return!” Then, giving them no second glance, he urged his carrier out with livid determination to reach Korindelf, anxious to crush all that he would find.
The blood-spattered creatures kept watch over their newly claimed territory in his stead, scraping every bone left to tell of their enemies’ defeat in anticipation of spoils the day would yet bring. But shortly after their leader’s abrupt departure, a strange storm cloud began to gather in the northern sky, drifting quickly in low winds, and growing significantly in size. He was long gone before they could tell that its course was deliberate, their dim minds discerning thousands of forms within, all coming for them at a speed that sought to devastate without answer.
“Take cover!” many shouted in alarm, all lifting large scraps of armor or rubble, even the corpses of their slain brothers, in preparation for what rapidly descended. Soon finding themselves under the Eaglemasters’ far-reaching shroud, they realized every defense was futile against the deluge that befell their ranks, pummeling to the ground one wave after another.
Hundreds toppled in haphazard pushes for retreat while thousands scrambled out of the city’s broken wall, overfilling scattered boats in desperate haste to cross the river, and many fell to watery graves. The riddled fleets rowed back toward their own sequestered territory, toward the vast remainder of ferotaurs that had waited to be ferried over but now only cowered at their airborne enemies.
Then, the Eaglemasters suddenly abated all efforts to pursue, as though satisfied that they would not trespass again while their forces drowned on every side. Rising above in a darting eastward flock to address more pressing matters, they flew behind the distant trail of Felkoth and his dragon, following him, unsuspected, to Korindelf.
Morlen’s sword and body became one staggering mallet against all shriekers that jumped forward, and he thinned their ranks for several arduous hours with the lions stampeding around him. Their wretched yelps did not go unnoticed by their king either, he realized, finally glimpsing an unmistakable dark shape close on the horizon.
Having anticipated the inevitable moment with great pain, he could not escape it now as it blew down like a corrosive breeze. Bloodsong announced destruction to all adversaries, seizing the sure-footed lions while his ready arms slackened as well, exposing them to more vigorous attacks that did not hesitate.
Gray swells lurched over him, slashing, pulling down against any attempt to shake free as the dreadful sound fell louder, heavier. Seeing the thick hindquarters of many beside him suddenly give way beneath the hostile surge, Morlen drew on what energy he still had to leap upward while he thrust the Crystal Blade through those sinking him. And Roftome flew down to his aid, heaving away many that wriggled and spat in his grip.
“The city men are on their way,” Roftome alerted, and Morlen soon found a great deal of hope restored, scanning out to glimpse the airborne fleet that stealthily gained. But, they would not arrive before Felkoth had a chance to land a critical blow here, where all could be lost in one breath.
Glaring with disdain at the approaching monstrosity, Roftome spread his own wings to their full span in open challenge. “It will not have satisfaction, not while I fly,” he declared, and bolted far above, undaunted, to engage Felkoth’s most threatening servant for a second time.
Morlen could only watch him go for a few short moments before returning to the wailing forces at hand, and rallied the lions from defense into a gallant attack as ripping claws and fangs clashed viciously upon one another. The Crystal Blade led them forward in his quickening hands despite the scream of death that drew so close.
Dipping beneath the foul creature’s narrow line of sight, Roftome made for its well-cradled master, sure that an assault on him would disrupt its collision with those below. It began a steep descent that abruptly halted as he shot against its clasped talons, scratching and rattling until Felkoth commanded a sharp turn upward, where he met them again. This time he latched between its eyes as he’d done before, pecking determinedly until its flailing head whipped him off and launched a spout of flame, which he easily evaded.
Its vision dulled by a veil of smoke, Bloodsong swiped hard in all directions while Roftome stabbed his talons into the center of its granite back. The colossal tail soared in a quick reflex to squash him on the spot, smashing with a terrible clatter between its own wings after its target lightly sprang off in a dodge. The dragon sank through billowing dust before it recovered from the blow, holding tightly to its irate master.
Then, as the sky finally cleared, no eye or ear could miss what came. The Eaglemasters had arrived, belting a fearsome note of defiance while aimed directly at Felkoth. At the front of their ranks, King Valdis flew with the Crystal Spear thrust out to lead a heavy charge, his son and daughter following on either side.
Bloodsong went forth to immerse them in their own flaming ruin, and the Eaglemasters held formation behind their king to meet it head-on, even as the creature’s agonizing scream enveloped them. Then, with distance closing between them and their foe, Valdis suddenly sped into a sharp dive with all Eaglemasters far beneath the dragon, which struggled to turn while it pursued them lower toward the battle.
They looked down in wonder at the valiant lions, whose ancient majesty was summoned and gathered now by one, and one alone, deep in lethal territory.
“Our ally fights bravely on the ground,” Valdis called out to all, who heard him clearly as they neared the shriekers. “Let us do the same!” With that, he lunged from the back of his eagle, rolling through their enemies to spring gracefully to his feet with the Crystal Spear battering a circle around him. Every Eaglemaster followed suit, disembarking from their bearers in a wave of red and silver that crashed through the whining gray tide. Unencumbered by their riders, the flock swarmed as one against the closing dragon, drawing it above the fray while Felkoth bellowed angrily in its grasp, backing away from the incessant prods of their attacks.
Valdis unleashed a flurry of crippling strikes against every brute within reach, bringing down two with one swing while taking another that tackled him from the side and hoisting it acro
ss his shoulders, hurling it into one more that rushed him.
Prince Verald, surrounded by six that stood taller than he, buried his spear into the first that pounced, and then silenced two more with a swift draw of his sword, which delivered a quick end to the remaining three that darted in without sinking a single claw or fang.
Morlen watched the Eaglemasters cleave through the ranks on his left, with Valdis far out in front, unscathed by the rocking swells while other men fought hard to keep up in his wake. And, he sensed her close also, perhaps searching for him as he now searched for her.
Valeine leapt forward, smashing every snout that bore down on her, and harbored no fear as she saw her father alone, moving weightlessly. Taking in the vast number of radiant lions on their right flank, whose prowess had until this moment been the stuff of dream and lore for generations of her people, she knew there was only one who could unite such distant worlds. She could not see him yet, blocked from sight as he was by so many that fought around the path he forged, but, she knew he was there, in the very thick of danger.
Flooding all ears with a deathly scream, Bloodsong slithered and flipped high overhead beneath the eagles’ relentless net, which glided around each blast to leave Felkoth no safety within its hold. And, through each violent somersault that did nothing but disorient him under the raptors’ attack, Felkoth knew it would be only a matter of moments before he stumbled too far, yielding his neck to their beaks.
Well-alerted to its master’s peril, Bloodsong spiraled vertically upward, its tail a chopping windmill that pulverized scores to feathery mulch while their brothers whistled in retribution. Those who were able struck Felkoth’s seat more aggressively than before, until his rising groans left the dragon no option but to lower him away from their assault.
Pursuing closely as Bloodsong changed course, the eagles recognized that they’d accomplished their task when it began an urgent plunge toward the battle. But once Felkoth was unloaded from its grasp, it would become much more volatile, free to exert any destructive maneuver, and they would not be able to keep it in check for long. They wove all around as it neared their allies on the field, allowing it no other movement but to protect its master, until finally, it released him into the ample fold of his shriekers.
Roftome pounced stubbornly onto Bloodsong’s jagged brow once more, covering its red eyes with his wings so that it would be afraid to crash through the fray, knowing its master was somewhere within. But this proved to be a tenuous ploy at best when the enraged creature spun out again, rocking back and forth while the other eagles swarmed to drag it higher, ducking every unpredictable blow.
Meanwhile, keenly aware that Felkoth had finally joined them on the ground, Morlen and the Eaglemasters tore forward with new determination, bent on bringing their coordinated campaign to fruition.
Only now, up close, did Felkoth begin to take in the magnitude of forces rallying together against him, from Valdis and his brash troops to the stomping lions and the boy, the boy with his prize, who had led them here. They would have no pleasure, no victory. And all would burn upon these very fields they’d come so desperately to take. Marching beside his loyal beasts, he pointed the Dark Blade firmly out toward all enemies, and prepared to drench it in their death.
Having bridged the gap between himself and many of the Eaglemasters, Morlen looked more closely among them for Valeine, but she was still too difficult to spot inside the skirmish. King Valdis, though, was in sight of everyone, crumpling an entire pack with three devastating swipes of the Crystal Spear as they tried to bar his passage farther, until he became an unsinkable island within their tumultuous center.
Morlen delved harder ahead, hoping to reach him, and Felkoth’s jeering face in the distant crowd drove his blade even faster. There was no telling who would engage the Tyrant Prince first, since he stood surrounded by the shriekers, aligned between both forces that hammered against him. Every Eaglemaster slanted in his direction, and all foes they encountered were nothing more than mere hurdles before their primary target.
Breaking through to the rightmost edge of her countrymen, Valeine knew that if she could just cross a few more yards, she would find Morlen. Together they could repel the rest while her father fought Felkoth, although she knew Valdis was not the closest of the Eaglemasters to his position. They would buy him time.
Watching as the other Eaglemasters held nothing back to fragment the defensive wave, she felled every enemy holding her off while trying to catch up. One by one, Felkoth cut each challenger down with the poisonous Dark Blade and reveled in their dying gasps, his face contorting with greater enjoyment as more filled their place, all of them falling by his wrathful hands.
Bolting forward, she was abruptly pulled left by an outstretched claw that ripped across her shoulder, dragging her around to face a growling wretch that beat across her cheek as she ran it through. She fell back from the blow without her spear, into two more that excitedly caught her with fingers that sliced into her sides, until she hastily drew her sword, taking their heads in one stroke. Another grabbed both of her arms and forced them over her head, and she could feel its wet breath on the side of her neck as it opened stained jaws that she cracked with the back of her head, slamming her elbow into its temple to drive it many paces sideways.
Still on both feet, the seething foe careened straight at her while she prepared a threatening defense, one she never got a chance to land as Morlen sprinted in to deal a finishing strike, sending it in silence to the ground. They were pushed against one another by the tightening struggle around them, and Morlen felt quite safe with her hands suddenly on his, breathing in what she breathed out an inch away.
Yanked off balance by the writhing clusters on every side, they kept close, carving a path forward through the shriekers’ formation. Felkoth stood not far ahead, overpowering any who poured in. Shoulder to shoulder, the pair became a moving wall that no enemy could withstand, and soon they entered the front lines beside Verald, whose heart rose to see his sister in fair condition, as well as the company she kept.
“A fine day it’s been, Eaglefriend,” he greeted, marshaling those with him to spread around Felkoth and his barking guards, tentatively closing in. But, they were denied their chance to strike at the Tyrant Prince when, drilling through his fortified circle, King Valdis emerged with the Crystal Spear held at the ready. Looking at Felkoth, who turned just a few strides off to meet his gaze with none in between, Valdis offered no rebuke or demand, only a certainty that every step and breath that followed would be greater than what his enemy could return.
Morlen and the Eaglemasters meshed together, weapons poised against the ring of beasts that now cast attention inward upon their master and the one who had entered, and everyone watched for the scene to unfold.
Without one second’s rest, Valdis released a deep shout and threw a deadly slash that Felkoth held inches from his own throat with a ringing parry, pushing hard to wedge a gap between them. But Valdis shoved him back and moved forward with a whistling slice of the spear’s base that flew just over Felkoth’s head when he ducked, stabbing out with the Dark Blade, a strike Valdis narrowly parried.
Valdis’s ensuing thrust missed by a hair’s breadth when Felkoth spun to the side and leapt to swing the Dark Blade toward the king’s head, but the Crystal Spear batted the sword wide off guard, and Valdis smashed his clenched fist into Felkoth’s pursed mouth, knocking him flat on his back.
Felkoth sat up, spitting blood, and Valdis meant to finish him before he reached his feet, swinging the spear’s sharp-horned end like an axe for his skull, but he dodged the weapon, which became entangled in black knots of his hair.
Dragging him in like a netted fish, Valdis pulled Felkoth’s head upward and drew a dagger from his hip sheath, aiming its point for his captive’s exposed throat. In an instant Felkoth drew a knife of his own, cutting his hair free while he whipped his leg around to bash Valdis’s feet off the ground, dropping him with a loud clatter.
B
efore Felkoth could drive his knife through the plated chest lying before him, Valdis kicked it out of his raised hand and rattled him sideways with the butt of his spear, and both of them rolled to get up before the other. Felkoth lunged, but Valdis would not be moved, halting every route the Dark Blade took to end him with tireless spins of the Crystal Spear. Each swing only spurred Felkoth further, until Valdis went again on the offensive, driving their path as Felkoth fought to find any weakness he could exploit, unable to even graze Valdis’s deftly weaving hands.
Worry began to stiffen Felkoth’s face, and everyone gathering around could see it as plain as the blood that still trickled from his gashed lip. Valdis saw it as well, feeling the slight fatigue in each of Felkoth’s breathy, futile attempts. But soon, all on the field suddenly remembered the unstable threat above when Bloodsong pierced them with another freezing call, descending through a thick mat of eagles to belt a stream of fire that narrowly missed the crowd. It scalded and smoked over those who quickly scattered in an uproar, and the shriekers dove against Morlen and his allies one more time.
Breaking through their onslaught, Morlen labored to reach Valdis, bringing down any that tried to bleed him along the way, until they had to go to ground again as the dragon’s fire scorched many in another pass. The combatants rose cautiously to their feet in a thick haze, searching dizzily for friend and foe while the smoke slowly cleared.
Suddenly Morlen saw Valdis, staring right at him across a short distance, and also at the Crystal Blade in his possession, a sight that filled the king’s face with an odd look of confusion and then understanding. At that moment, slinking from the shadows, Felkoth drove the Dark Blade through Valdis’s middle, and Morlen, yelling out in vain, rushed through the embattled rows toward them.
Felkoth savored each second, slowly withdrawing his sword while Valdis still stood, spear in hand, and Bloodsong swooped down with open talons to snatch up its master, lifting him to safety as the eagles chased them from Korindelf.