Just before the four combatants crashed together, a jet of fire shot from the undergrowth, wrapping itself around one of the young knight's three adversaries. Although this attack wasn't fierce enough to slay either the horse or its rider, it served as a sincere distraction to both, bringing their assault to a stop before it reached its target.
The captain either overestimated his own skill, or underestimated that of the young knight. Whereas his weapon was harmlessly deflected by the Telian's shield, the knight's spear struck him squarely on his own, knocking him from the saddle to the earth below.
As the third of the Telian's assailants closed the distance between himself and the young knight, Ian's voice began echoing through the surrounding woodlands. Darian couldn't make out the words, but it seemed to him that the bard was calling on the aid of some ancient and terrible beast. At the same moment, the sound of Willrak and his men charging down the hill filled the air. Valrak's soldiers were too spread out to offer much resistance to the thirty or so peasants that charged into the fray in a tight formation. They also had the disadvantage of trying to fight a pack of pike-men with swords and shields.
A second charge reached the caravan at nearly the same time. Gregor flew into the battle, leading his small band of cavalry into the flank of the foe. Alongside these mounted warriors strode what appeared to be an ogre composed of earth and rock, wielding a massive club of the same materials. Some sizable creature could also be heard tearing through the woodlands behind them, heading quickly toward the scene of conflict.
This was more than enough for the rearmost of the waggoneers. The valiant, but wizened, soldier began turning his cart around when a crossbow bolt suddenly flew into the seat beside him. The old man gazed into the trees above to see Kilren shaking his head at him. With a nod of resolve, he threw down the reigns.
Darian's remaining mounted opponent was skilled, there was no question about that. The fact that his commander had been unseated had also made him cautious. The young knight had thrown down his spear and drawn his sword, as he was certain his adversary wouldn't give him the chance of a second charge. The two came together in a clash of blades, each deftly blocking the attacks of the other, while doing their best to find some opening in their opponent's form.
Although Valrak's men had been taken completely by surprise, they were seasoned veterans who had fought in innumerable skirmishes and seen countless comrades die. As a result, they quickly regained their composure and began fighting together as a unified force. While a number of them engaged the pike-wielding peasants from the front, others flanked them from the sides, forcing them to divide their attention, as well as their formation.
Three of the most valiant drew the attention of the ogre made of earth, keeping well away from it, while at the same time, keeping it well away from their allies. Those locked in battle with Gregor and his cavalry fought amongst the wagons, making it difficult to charge them and completely impossible to surround them.
Darian had asked both Kilren and Erana to do their best not to kill anyone. He didn't like the idea of an ambush in the first place but, he found the thought of them perched in the trees, picking off men that couldn't even see them, to be absolutely distressing. They had both assured him that they would do what they could. That is the reason the arrow that Erana loosed at one of the enemies attempting to flank the pike-men passed through his calf, rather than his heart. Although this undoubtedly spared his life, it also, unfortunately, gave him the opportunity to scream about it a great deal.
This vocalization attracted the attention of several of his allies who rushed toward the tree from which Erana was firing. Rragor, although an extremely faithful animal, wasn't capable of understanding the difference between disabling and slaying an adversary. So, the survival of the young soldier the beast first leapt upon was due either entirely to luck, or to the intervention of the Eilian. Whichever the case, survive, he did. Although, he was quite unconscious and seriously injured for the remainder of the battle.
Kilren and Erana rained arrows down on their would-be attackers, shooting this one in the shoulder, that one in the leg, until they were out of shafts and their enemies out of resolve. The two who had managed to avoid both the massive wolf and the flying shafts decided it would be best to rejoin their companions in the general fray. The enemy archers had stopped firing and, whatever the cause, that was all they could hope for at the moment.
Willrak managed to keep his men together in a fairly tight pack for some time, even after several of them had been injured by their tenacious foes. Time and skill, however, were both on the side of the foe. Valrak's men knew what they were doing, and worked to divide the force of peasants into smaller groups that could easily be cut down.
Gregor saw the danger of this and led his small force around the wagons to fall on the enemy's current flank. Several of the mercenaries had turned their attention back down the road as the sound of some massive creature breaking through the underbrush grew ever louder. They had no way of knowing that the creature they were preparing to face was nothing more than the sounds they heard, having been created by the mystical skills of the gifted bard. The Solarin cavalry took advantage of this distraction and charged them from behind. In a matter of seconds, their ranks were broken and those who could were fleeing back toward the wagons.
By this time, the enemy commander had caught and remounted his horse. The mercenary who had first been wrapped in flames had been unfortunate enough to find himself covered in a stream of acid that had flown from the woods, while his companion, who was still fighting the Telian, found himself suddenly covered in fire, as well.
The captain gazed over the battlefield before raising his empty hand.
“Call off your men, Sir Darian!” he cried. “We'll leave.”
Having said this, he ordered his men to throw down their arms and stop fighting. As soon as this was done, Darian and Ian began attending to the wounded. Gwendolyn insisted on being allowed to help and began by attempting to heal the very men she had injured. At first, she failed.
“Don't let yourself get frustrated,” Gregor smiled. “You know how to do it.”
“I do, sometimes,” she replied. “I just don't seem to be able to remember how when I need to.”
“Do what you did before,” he suggested.
“I am,” she pointed out.
“I mean,” he smiled, “ask the Eilian to guide you. It's not just Darian they listen to, you know.”
“I do,” she said with a sigh, before following his advice.
Instantly, power flowed through her body, healing the young man that she had engulfed in flames – and that Ian had covered in acid – just minutes before. This done, she turned her attention to the second singed soldier, quickly easing his pain.
Between the three companions, they managed to heal all of the fallen. Almost miraculously, none of the combatants had died.
“I appreciate this, Telian,” the captain said, gazing into the young knight's eyes, “but it doesn't change things between us. We're still enemies.”
“In as much as we're on opposite sides of a war, I agree,” Darian replied. “However, I don't consider you my personal foe. Unless you do something to change that, I won't.”
“What happens now?” the mercenary captain asked.
“You and your men go,” the Telian replied. “Leaving behind, of course, your wagons, your weapons, and your horses.”
“Valrak won't be happy about this,” the captain asserted.
“Don't worry about that,” Gregor chuckled. “I'm sure he'll understand.”
“You don't know him,” the captain replied.
“Maybe not,” the young lord replied, “but, unless he's a fool, he'll be glad you didn't throw the lives of your men away on a battle you couldn't win. Besides, maybe you'll be able to track us down and get your revenge.”
“Maybe I will,” the captain said, with a smile. “But, I don't think that's likely to happen today.”
“Nor
do I,” Gregor agreed. “Whatever the case, however, you had better be on you way. We all have a great deal of traveling to do today.”
“For what it's worth,” the captain said, offering his hand to Darian, “you have my thanks for your mercy.”
“You have mine for being reasonable in defeat,” the young knight replied, taking him by the wrist.
Minutes later, the mercenaries of Lord Valrak, along with the Mikralian soldiers who had been driving the carts, had departed.
“Well,” Kilren said, stepping up to the knight as soon as their adversaries had left, “that was easier than I thought it would be.”
“I feel the same way,” Darian nodded. “I thank the Eilian for it.”
“I just hope it wasn't too easy,” Kilren observed.
“What do you mean?” Gregor asked.
“Valrak's men rarely surrender,” the lieutenant pointed out. “We were certainly winning, but the fight was a long way from over when they gave up.”
“What do you think it means?” Darian asked.
“I think it means we need to get out of here, now,” Kilren replied. “For all we know, they may have reinforcements right down the road. We should split up here, sending each of the wagons a different direction, while we make our way directly back to Willrak's castle alone.”
“Why alone?” the Telian asked.
“We'll move a lot faster,” the lieutenant explained. “I'm sure we've gotten King Palnar's attention by now but, the more we can do, the better. We should be able to make it back to the castle sometime tonight if we ride fast. From there, we can decide what we should do next.”
“That's a good idea,” Gregor nodded. “Let's do it.”
Chapter 14: The Price of Peace
“Ian,” Darian said suddenly, carefully stowing the book he was reading in one of his saddle bags as the last rays of lingering sunlight quickly fled from the sky above.
“Aye,” the bard replied.
“I want to ask you a question.”
“I thought you might have a few after you finished that particular tome,” the dwarf replied with a wide smile.
“What?” the young Telian asked, a sincere look of confusion passing over his face. “Oh. No. I haven't actually finished it yet. I am getting close, though. But, my current question has nothing to do with that.”
“Well, ask away, lad,” Ian replied, pulling his pipe from his jacket. “We've got time.”
“Was there ever a Telian Knight powerful enough to raise someone from the dead even if that person's body had been destroyed?”
“Yes,” the dwarf nodded. “That is to say; according to legend, it's happened at least once.”
“When was that?”
“Many hundreds of years ago,” the bard asserted, filling the bowl of his pipe and lighting it. “A Telian named Rafflin Quinn...”
“I believe I've heard of him,” Darian interjected. “I think Lord Andor may have told me some stories about him when I was younger.”
“That would hardly be surprising,” Ian replied. “He was one of the most powerful Telian that ever lived.”
“That's right!” the young knight said, snapping his fingers. “He was... someone's son...”
“Obviously,” the bard chuckled.
“Someone important.”
“He was the son of Unmar Quinn,” Ian replied before taking a draw from his pipe. “Who was, of course, a member of the very first Council of Twelve.”
“The original founders of the order,” Darian nodded.
“The same,” the dwarf agreed. “Unmar was one of the few Telian in history who had a child who was also a Telian.”
“And Rafflin raised someone from the dead who didn't have a body?”
“He did,” the bard replied. “Rafflin, like many powerful Telian, made powerful enemies over the course of his life. One of these was a woman named Sarllen Morn, who had, at one time, believed herself to be in love with him and was consumed by jealousy. She kidnapped his eldest daughter just days before she was to wed while Rafflin was attending to a matter on the very outskirts of his lands. She murdered the maiden, who she claimed should have been her own daughter, burned her body to ash, and scattered her remains to the four winds.
“Rafflin returned to find his daughter taken, and set out immediately in search of Sarllen Morn. In truth, she was eager for him to find her. She accused him of intentionally toying with her affections in order to break her heart. She then told him exactly what she had done; laughing as despair overwhelmed him and reveling in the agony she had inflicted.
“However, he gave her a response she hadn't expected. He forgave her and apologized for hurting her, explaining that such had never been his intention. Rafflin told her that he truly had cared for her, but that his heart had always belonged to another. In response to his mercy and his pity, she drew a dagger and attempted to kill herself. He restrained her, causing her to collapse in a fit of hysteria.
“With tears flowing from his eyes, he bowed his head in prayer, asking the Eilian to forgive both he and Sarllen for their mistakes and begging them to find a way to restore his daughter to him. He had no sooner asked, than divine power began to flow through him. His body was wrapped in blinding light, and he collapsed unconscious to the earth. When he awakened, his daughter was holding his head in her lap, gently stroking his brow with her hand.”
“What happened to Sarllen Morn?” the young knight asked.
“I don't know,” the bard admitted. “I've heard several versions of the story. Some say that she did, in fact, kill herself a short time later. Others claim that she dedicated her life to the Eilian and wandered Areon seeking out the brokenhearted in order to help heal them. Some stories say that, after she repented, she ended up happily married to another man not many years later.”
“Which do you believe?”
“Me?” the bard chuckled. “I feel certain that she wed and lived happily ever after, getting to see her great-great-grandchildren before she died. Of course, I'm a bit of a romantic, I suppose.”
“I must be, too,” Darian replied with a nod.
“You think so?” Ian chuckled.
“I do,” the knight said. “At least, I hope she lived happily ever after. So, that must make me a romantic.”
“I suppose you could look at it that way,” the bard smiled, “but, it seems to me that, at least for the moment, you're missing some other key elements.”
“Like what?” the Telian asked, having absolutely no idea what Ian was talking about.
“Nothing we need to discuss at the moment,” the bard replied. “What I want to know is: what brought that question to mind?”
“I've been thinking a lot about Yaellan Kalath,” the young knight explained. “I mean; I think he was wrong, but I'm not sure that he was. Of course, if he wasn't, then the Eilian were and I'm sure they weren't. Unless they were, obviously. But, who am I to question them? On the other hand, they have been wrong before. They've said so. And, I'm not about to say that they were wrong about being wrong. Do you think I'm wrong?”
“I don't think so,” the bard laughed, “but, I can't be sure, because it's hard to tell exactly what you're talking about.”
“Alright,” the Telian replied, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a sigh. “Yaellan Kalath disregarded the will of the Eilian and raised his love from the dead using the power of Winrall, right?”
“Yes,” the bard said with a nod.
“Now,” Darian continued, “obviously, it wasn't a bad thing, in and of itself, to bring her back to life. They ended up married, had kids, and lived happily ever after.”
“Just so.”
“You can't really blame Yaellan for the rise of the Kalathians, either,” the knight explained. “Because, had the Eilian just given him the power to raise her from the dead in the first place, Winrall wouldn't have needed to offer to help him.”
“One could make that argument,” Ian agreed.
“Plus, of course, if all
Kalathians only used Winrall's power to do the right thing, they would basically be Telian Knights.”
“Basically,” the dwarf nodded.
“Right,” the knight nodded. “So, at first glance, it certainly seems that Yaellan did the right thing. On the other hand, he could have just waited for a few days and tried again. I can see how that could be difficult to do, but it could have been that the Eilian were testing him. They could have offered him enough power to bring her back even if her body was completely gone, much less if she had just been dead for a few days.”
“True.”
“Still, he may have never been able to wield that much power,” Darian pointed out. “He might have lost her for the rest of his life.”
“He might have,” the bard ceded.
“So... I don't know,” the young Telian said, shaking his head. “I don't believe I would do the same thing, but I'm not completely sure anymore. The Eilian can make mistakes, they just rarely do. And, I'm absolutely positive that I'm more likely to get things wrong than they are.”
“I'm sure you're right about that,” Ian smiled.
“That being the case,” Darian continued, “I'd rather trust to their judgment rather than my own. It's just that I feel like I still have unanswered questions.”
“There's nothing wrong with that, lad. In my opinion, faith isn't nearly as powerful when it's blind. It's much better to search for answers than to refuse to ask questions.”
“I think you're right,” the young knight replied. “Some questions are hard to find the answers to, though. I mean; it's hard to imagine what I might do if you, or Kilren, or Erana, or... Gwendolyn... were to end up dead and the Eilian wouldn't give me the power I needed to bring you back. I'd miss you terribly...
“Of course, that's a really selfish way to look it, I guess. Kaldor is paradise. At least, it would be for you guys. Honestly, when you consider all of time, we die of old age pretty quickly.”
The Lords of Areon (The Chronicles of Areon Book 3) Page 24