The Moon Stealers Box Set. Books 1-4 (Fantasy Dystopian Books for Teenagers)

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The Moon Stealers Box Set. Books 1-4 (Fantasy Dystopian Books for Teenagers) Page 35

by Tim Flanagan


  At the back of the group some of the elves had managed to ignite their arrows. Liquid fire ran from the points of the arrows leaving a trail of smoke as it flew through the air towards the rear hide. Instantly the logs and dry hawthorn branches took light and the Rangers desperately started to climb out of the hide to escape the fire only to be shot as they clung to the side of the mountain.

  Those that had managed to climb down to the road from the burning hide had now drawn their swords and were hacking their way across the sea of elf bodies, the ground now sticky underfoot with blood, towards the nearest standing elves.

  The elephants began trumpeting in fear, smelling the blood and death that surrounded them. One began nervously backing up, forcing the cart that held the fire cannon into a group of elves that had been using it as a shield. It then began turning as green feathered arrows thudded into its muscular shoulders and soft belly. As it turned, the wooden cart twisted onto one of its side wheels, the heavy iron cannon toppling the cart over, which also pulled the elephant onto its side, crushing the last breath from two more elves that got trapped beneath it.

  Liquid fire now spilled out from the barrel of the cannon onto the road burning everything that it touched. The bitter smell of burning flesh began to fill the air whilst the blackened smoke provided more cover for the elves from the Huntsmen's continuous attack.

  The elves managed to release more fire arrows back from the road towards their attackers. One of the canopies of the trees to the side of the road was now alight as the elves desperately tried to fight back against an enemy they still could not see.

  Some elves used the side of the fallen elephant as a shield. One of the giant mutant elves had forced a spear through the skull of the elephant and into the road surface, stopping it from thrashing out at the elves. Two of the giants had thrown their drums through the air as easily as a child would a soft toy, towards the trees that were firing arrows at them. The drums splintered into shards of wood as they slammed against the thick trunks, knocking some of the huntsmen from their hiding places; some lost their footing along the branches whilst others fell due to the splinters of wood that had punctured their bodies. The giants then leapt off the road and began lumbering down the side of the mountain using the tree trunks as hand holds. The giants' thick skin and muscle stopped the arrows causing any real damage and they seemed to be an unstoppable force as they shook the huntsmen from the trees like apples.

  There were two battles now taking place, one on the

  Shadow Road, and the other amongst the trees at the top of the ledge where it met the road. Green Huntsmen were now attacking the mutant elves with their long swords, hacking at their legs trying to make them lame and vulnerable, but whilst the huntsmen attacked the giants, the bombardment of arrows towards the elves had reduced. Beneath him Max could hear the chaotic screaming and shouting from the mouths of the remaining elves and he knew that the battle was still in their favour. Max took a sideways look along the crest of the mountain towards the woman and children and gave the agreed signal. At the same time everyone pushed against the logs that rested ad been positioned on the ledge in front of them. As each log slowly wobbled on the stony ledge, gravity slowly pulled them down the mountain towards the elves. They tumbled faster and faster, bouncing off the uneven surfaces of the rock until they smashed into the

  Shadow Road or an unsuspecting elf. Some of the logs continued with their momentum and rolled over the bodies of the elves and disappeared over the drop on the other side, taking some of the standing elves with them. The second elephant had now become trapped against the mountain side. It began to panic and pushed the cart up against the rocks, breaking one of the wooden arms that secured it against the harness. It was now free of the heavy load and was rearing up onto its back legs lifting the head and tusks high above it, throwing off the rider that sat between its large flapping ears. One of the gold tipped tusks scraped against the stony side of the mountain below where they were. Sweeping some of the elf soldiers aside with the long curved tusks, the elephant lumbered towards the front of the convoy to try and escape. But its way out was made more difficult by the number of bodies that were piling up around it. While the elephant was moving around so chaotically, it posed more of a threat to the elves than to the Ranger’s.

  Beside Max and Littleskink were woven baskets filled with hand sized rocks which they now grabbed and began throwing down at the elves from their protected position above. Many rocks didn’t strike their target, but they caused the elves to run for cover once again and distracted them from firing their arrows back at the huntsmen in the trees. To the side of Max he heard a dull thud as an elf arrow buried itself into the throwing shoulder of one of the women. She staggered backwards from the force and fell to the ground, clutching at her shoulder. Already there was a pool of red blood expanding from the arrow hole and into her clothing.

  Other stray arrows flew over their heads as the elves now desperately fired upwards towards the top of the mountain.

  Arrows continued to rain down on the elves from all directions; some archers had even now joined Max and the others on the mountain ridge, firing down at the vulnerable elves. From both sides of the road the Ranger’s foot soldiers now started to advance on the remaining elves using their wooden shields for protection. From behind the shield wall they struck the hilt of their swords against the wood making a dull echoing bang.

  One of the remaining elves on horseback charged towards the wall of shields, sword drawn high ready to cut at the Rangers once they separated beneath the hooves of the horse. But the Rangers continued to move forward, holding their formation until the very last moment, when sharpened wooden poles projected from between the gaps in the shields. By then it was too late and the horseman could not change direction, the soft underbelly of the horse was skewered and torn by the wooden poles and it fell lifelessly onto the foot soldiers. The elf was rapidly dispatched by the group of Rangers who relentlessly continued forward.

  From the top of the mountain Max watched as the fighting slowly became less and less furious. Some of the elves even began to lay down their weapons and surrender to the Rangers. However, one of the mutant elves continued to throw objects into the trees, despite the large number of feathered arrows that stuck out from his chest. Max rallied the women and children together and rolled a large boulder off the mountain ledge towards the road. The boulder bounced off the rocky sides, dislodging smaller clusters of loose stone and rubble, and continued towards the giant, skimming against the back of its legs as it swung the mallet it used to strike the drum at a group of Rangers. The force of the boulder caused the giant to twist slightly, lose its footing and land on its back. A foot soldier wasted no time and quickly stepped forward and thrust his sword into the open mouth of the mutant until the hilt of the sword was all that could be seen sticking out from between its rotten teeth, like a metallic tongue.

  They had overwhelmed the fire elves and lost only a handful of Rangers and Green Huntsmen in the process.

  Although this victory was theirs, the greater battle was still to come.

  31. The Final Breakfast

  Edgar watched the warm blood red sky overtake the darkness as dawn broke the following morning. Silhouetted against the red glow was the black Twisted Tower of the faerie queen reaching upwards like a thick fork of black lightening joining the earth to the sky. Edgar wondered if the colour of the sky was a warning that blood would be spilt on the battlefield today. He had been sitting on the top of the cold dusty stone wall of one of the ruined buildings at the edge of the fortress of Dragonheart Cavern for the last hour thinking, while most of the camp remained asleep. There was so much that Edgar regretted. He should never have let Peter leave the house by himself that night, but he assumed he was simply going to the shops for his mum and would be safe. There was no way to know that Peter had planned to stay the night in a graveyard. Part of him also felt guilty about bringing the other children through to this strange and dangerous world. And
Max …. He hated making himself think about him, but he had lost Max, as well as nearly losing Joe when they were in the marshes. So far he had made a pretty bad job of being a knight and protector and once again the trust had been put in him to take the children to the Twisted Tower. He was the last of Arthur’s knights and the world was very different to how it had been back then. Maybe knights had no place in the modern world anymore.

  ‘The dawn predicts a bloody day,’ said one of the guards leaning on his long handled axe. His warm breath hung in the cool morning air in thin clouds of fog before his face. ‘Before the day is out the soil of Arenadra will have its thirst quenched by the spilt blood of the soldiers that will die on it and forever the earth will be stained red.’

  Edgar looked down from his perch towards the guard. He noticed that soldiers dealt with their fears in many different ways; some laughed and joked, some became very thoughtful whilst others became silent and brooding. Edgar continued to look on through the gloomy air towards the wide expanse of the battlefield. Several of their Trebuchets had been manoeuvred into position, all on wheeled bases to make moving them easier, but apart from that the plains were empty.

  ‘Blood is the beginning of life,’ Edgar eventually replied to the guard, trying to give some reassurance and support. ‘Whatever happens today, our blood will not be wasted. The Arenadra Plains will live once again.’

  ‘Good luck to you, sir,’ said the guard as he began his patrol once again.

  ‘And to you. What happens today will be written and sung about for years to come. You will be remembered as a hero.’

  The guard walked off along the edge of the forest and quickly become hidden by the trees leaving just the faint glow of his burning torch flickering in the air. Sentries and guards had been posted throughout the camp to prevent a surprise attack during the night, but Edgar knew where the real battle was going to be. By now the sky had changed and the red glow appeared like gashes across the slowly lightening sky.

  ‘Your words are kind and encouraging for the others,’ said the gentle voice of Ralphina from below the ruined wall. ‘But I feel your sadness. Who do you have that cares for you?’

  There was an aching hole in Edgar’s chest, one he had spent years, decades and centuries trying to unsuccessfully ignore. His body suddenly felt old and tired. He had met many people during his long life, but there had never been one person that had truly loved him. He always kept a safe distance from the Seers he was sworn to protect and had never had a personal relationship of his own. Whatever happened he knew that he would outlive them all and he had decided long ago that the inevitable feeling of loss would be a greater distress to bear than the feeling of loneliness. So the hole remained.

  ‘When I agreed to protect the Seers, I knew that my life would be a long and lonely one,’ Edgar replied sadly.

  ‘It doesn’t have to be. The children care for you.’

  ‘I’m too old. Living forever may seem like a gift, but it actually becomes a curse. There have been so many times that I wished to be released from my oath, and when it seems like I’m going to die, I feel there’s a greater need to stay. I become weaker by the day, the bacteria I caught in my world feeds on the inside of my body. Don’t tell the children. They need me.’

  ‘And you need them,’ Ralphina said to Edgar as she too climbed onto one of the ruined walls beside him. She looked out over the ever lightening scene with a mixture of fear and hope. ‘To be happy with yourself you need to let other people in. Your heart is made of two halves, one for you and the other for those that love you. Half of my heart belongs to Raelyn as does the wolf brother of every other Caniard. Without it we are incomplete, just a shell of a body with no purpose in life. Let the children love you.’

  From behind them the long vibrating blast of a horn sounded through the camp. The sound of voices seemed to emerge around them as soldiers left their tents and automatically stood and stared out over the plains. They knew that a single long blast on the horn signalled the start of the day. Three short blasts would have meant the queen’s army was advancing and every soldier and sword wielding person would be dressing quickly in their armour ready for battle. But for now, bacon was being laid in pots over lit fires together with warm spiced wine. The fires of the blacksmiths were being pumped by the bellows of the apprentices to bring them back up to temperature ready for the hammering of more metal.

  Edgar and Ralphina climbed down from the wall and walked over to the small tent they shared with Joe and Scarlet who were already stretching the tiredness from their arms and legs. Raelyn remained curled up in a large furry ball at the front of the tent, relaxed but one eye always alert and watchful.

  The children dressed in some of the clean clothes that King Conroy had given them, the proud phoenix embroidered upon the black cloth in red stitching across their chests. Whilst they began eating their breakfast, a tall Goranian royal guard appeared before them, sent from the king to escort them to his tent.

  It was not generally good manners to keep the king waiting, so they immediately picked up their possessions and walked alongside the guard towards the familiar ghostly white tent with the red banner flapping casually in the early morning breeze. After washing their hands they entered the tent and were pleased to see Martin Bayard, king of the free horsemen of the north, who they had not seen since entering the Rocks of Goran. His leg was bound with many layers of bandage and propped up in front of him, but the colour was back in his face compared to the last time they had seen him.

  ‘It seems that they are all going into battle without me,’ boomed King Bayard’s happy voice as he spotted Joe and Scarlet entering the tent.

  ‘You will not be left out, Martin,’ replied King Conroy, like he was scolding a schoolboy. ‘You may not be riding your warhorse or swinging your sword, but your experience at coordinating the army will prove useful. Now have a little more respect for our honoured guests,’ he said, playfully turning to the group of people who had arrived for breakfast.

  On the table were many different types of fruits and cold meats. Large chunks of bread had been hollowed out and brown meat and thick gravy steamed from the centre. Red berries were piled in a tower with a honey glaze that glistened and sparkled in the low morning sun that shone through the flaps of the tent. In silver goblets warm wine had already been ladled ready for them and a cherry coated cooked pig had been part sliced for them to help themselves to. In the centre was a wonderfully ornate silver cauldron that shimmered with carvings that seemed to be alive, but inside was thick oat porridge bubbling and bursting with the heat from the side of the cauldron.

  ‘Please enjoy your breakfast,’ said King Conroy inviting them to join his table, ‘you too, Master Bothelgrit,’ he called to the short figure who was hovering around the entrance. Large heavy oak chairs were pulled out for them to sit at the table and before long they were all enjoying food they had never expected to eat so close to a battle. Although Bothelgrit remained silent, the rest of them exchanged stories and jokes until their mouths and stomachs became so full they could not eat any more.

  ‘Where is Lady Flora?' asked Scarlet casually to King Conroy.

  ‘She entered Dragonheart Cavern last night and has not yet returned.’

  They all stopped chewing and went silent, listening to the king and waiting for him to say more.

  ‘The Mother of Nature is a wise and magically powerful person; she will no doubt still be in discussions with the dragon. Do not be concerned for her, but stay focussed on the task ahead of you. Timing is essential and you must enter the tunnels immediately. Your walk will take several hours; the tunnels are neither straight nor easily accessible and the faerie queen’s army could strike at any time. Do you have the light?' he asked Bothelgrit.

  The ground dweller looked up suspiciously from behind the rim of the silver goblet he was drinking from. His eyes immediately flicked over towards Ralphina as he unbuttoned his cloth shirt and pulled a chain out. At the end was a fragile gold pendant wi
th the purest crystal inside which projected a silvery light into the tent.

  King Bayard let out a gasp of wonder and leant forward as much as he could, given that his leg was propped up on the pile of cushions in front of him.

  ‘My father’s pendant,’ said Ralphina with amazement. ‘This is what I paid him to take us across the cove, only to be dumped in the marshes.’

  ‘The Light of Angelist,’ interrupted King Conroy. ‘It will light your journey through the tunnels.’

  ‘When all appears dark, this will give you the power to move in the right direction,’ muttered Ralphina. ‘They had been the words my father said to me the evening the Golden Hall was attacked. He must have known?’

  ‘King Ulfric was a wise man indeed, Princess Ralphina,’ said King Conroy respectfully.

  The light from the pendant faded as Bothelgrit wrapped his fingers tightly around it and tucked it back beneath his clothing once again.

  Before they were ready to go, King Conroy presented both of the children with a fine Goranean blade that sparkled like the phoenix had on the floor of the council chamber.

  ‘Should we not survive or meet again, you will need to find your way home,’ he said to Scarlet as he gave her the map that showed the possible portal sites they had worked out with Symen.

  He now turned to Edgar and bowed.

  ‘Good sir knight, I have nothing to give you but my thanks and friendship. You will always be remembered in the tales and stories that will be written in this world. Should we get through this battle unharmed, I will gladly come back to your world and fight under your command. Where there are many kings, you will be known as the king of all men,’ he finally stood and looked Edgar in the eyes. ‘Good luck.’

  ‘Thank you, your grace,’ replied Edgar.

  King Conroy’s gaze turned to Bothelgrit. ‘Sir, I know the ground dwellers prize gold above all else so I grant you permission to take your pick from the riches within this tent. You may choose just one item of your choice.’

 

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