by Dale Furse
Someone yelled out. “The pouch is wet.”
Another shouted, “Don’t use it.”
As they neared to about six hundred paces, Ludo shouted. “Gunpowder.” But no man answered. His eyes bulged out of his angry red face. “Now.”
The last shot whizzed over the Cornel’s head. Relieved no horse screamed, Mike chanced another peek at the enemy.
The riflemen were on their knees, pulling out pouch after pouch of gunpowder and throwing them onto the ground. Not one of Ludo’s men reloaded their weapons.
A man dressed in the leather apparel of Zandell said something to Ludo. The prince screamed at the man and threw his rifle at the traitor’s head. The man ducked, and the rifle butt found a gladiator look-a-like’s face.
Mike’s heart raced with the thought of the watery caves where the weapons were stored. Of course. The gunpowder was damp—useless.
“Now,” Mike shouted.
The king’s men turned to their horses, mounting them more quickly than Mike thought was possible.
Ludo unsheathed his sword. The sky shook as thunder exploded above, but no rain fell. The ground juddered as the king’s men, their horse’s hooves pounding the earth, bore down on the defending army.
The front line of Ludo’s army hesitated. They dropped their rifles, drew their swords, and mounted their horses.
Mike raised his sword.
Ludo sneered. His leer followed the length of Mike’s blade to Mike’s determined eyes.
His stance was ready for the charge. Mike frowned as Ludo veered his horse and bore down on the now horsed Derek. Mike gasped at the man’s gleaming eyes. If maniacs really had amazing strength, Derek was in trouble.
Mike waited, but both armies fought all round him. Ludo’s men purposefully avoided him. The word must have spread about his sword. He really wanted to fight—to help.
The battle drifted away and Mike found himself alone. He grimaced. They were scared of him. Well tough luck. Mike charged the nearest man. His eyes bulged and he backed up.
Ludo shouted, “Get the boy.”
Battle cries sounded behind. Mike spun on his heels and came face to face with at least thirty men. “Late for the party, boys?”
The men wavered. The coal-faced man in the lead was the first to regain his wits, and lunged at Mike. Aware of the man still at his back, Mike drew his assailant to the side. The man joined his comrades seemingly happy to be apart of the group.
Mike was able to fend off the first dozen, but more joined the fray. His sword did its bit and Mike used all his strength and training to jump and roll out of harm’s way. One blade after another tried to fillet him.
He panted, trying to get as much air into his lungs as possible. His arms ached, but he could not slacken wielding the sword. The muscles in his legs burned as he jumped left, right, back, and left again. His shoulder bruises sprouted new torture with every dive and roll.
Even with his marvelous sword, he was still mortal and not nearly as fit as his opponents were. He did not know how long he could continue, how many men he could evade or disarm, before he too fell. He had to think of another way to crush them. He flicked a sword out of the first assailant’s hand easily enough, but while Mike tried to get his breath, another parried with him, and the first retrieved his weapon, and so it went time after time. Disarmed, fought, rearmed, fought, and disarmed again. He rolled with a grunt of pain for the umpteenth time and glanced at the parapet.
With every crumb of strength he had left, he bounded to his feet and twisted around. Both hands clasped his sword’s handle as he lashed upwards and struck the underside of the nearest opponent’s hand with the flat of his blade. The man’s steel spun in the air. Mike grinned. His aim and angle had been correct and the enemy’s weapon sailed over the top of the parapet.
Mike set on the remaining men. Still maneuvering his body this way and that, he gained control over the pain and laughed as he danced from one adversary to the next. Finally, he stood before them waving his blade, the only sword left, high in the air.
The men stopped and stared at Mike. The largest man shouted, “Demon!”
Mike grinned as the group scampered into the main battle. He expected the marauders to help their comrades. Instead, they coursed straight through the skirmish and toward the hill where some horses happily nibbled on fresh green pick.
Many men and women fell from both sides. Mike strained his eyes, found his new friends, and noted their fighting had slowed. Many of Ludo’s troops were disarmed and bound together in collections of seven or eight.
Mike made his way to the throng of fighting.
New blood covered Cornel’s right arm but the sword in his left hand, dispensed all who neared.
A crazed Ludo dodged the hunter and barreled toward the wounded king, who was trying to regain his feet. Cornel advanced on Ludo. Further on, Derek raced toward the threesome.
Mike got to Ludo first. “Drop your sword, you lunatic.”
Derek slid beside Mike and in front of Cornel. “It’s over, Ludo.”
Ludo eyes raged. “Never.” He lunged for Mike.
Mike swished his sword and stripped Ludo of his blade. At the same time, Derek leapt and thrust his fist into Ludo’s jaw. Ludo stiffened for half a second before crumbling to the ground.
Noor appeared as if out of nowhere and checked King Horace’s injury.
A blur of movement behind the fighting armies caught Mike’s attention. Terni. The kid scooped up the rifles and sent them flying into a growing pile at a phenomenal rate. How had he escaped from the kitchen and Maise?
The sounds of battle had lessened to Mike’s ear and he scanned the field. Ludo’s troops were outnumbered by at least four to one. He let out a long sigh as he realized the king’s army was close to victory.
Glancing at the group around the king, Mike saw he was no longer needed. He raced past the declining battle to the mountain of weapons.
By the time he got there, Hankley had appeared. “G’day Hankley,” Mike said. Terni was still throwing guns on the pile. “What will we do with all these?” Mike nodded to the growing mass.
“We must dispose of them so even the smartest Zandellian will not be able to reconstruct anything from the debris,” Hankley said.
Terni finished and came to a stop, gasping for breath.
“Sit down before you fall down,” Mike said, and gently pushed Terni to the ground. He pointed to the mound of guns. “Did you think of that yourself?”
Terni nodded.
“He is a clever child,” Hankley said.
“Yep, good idea, kid.” Mike faced Hankley. “We could bury them somewhere in the canyons.”
“No, someone might find them.”
“Who are you talking to?” Terni asked Mike.
“Hankley. Remember?”
Terni looked up. “Aren’t you some sort of god? Why don’t you just make them disappear?”
Hankley touched Terni’s left shoulder.
Terni jumped. “Hey, I felt that. Was that you, Hankley?”
“Good guess,” Hankley said. “Let the little messenger hear me, Mike.”
With the crystal amulet in hand, Mike bent to Terni, and indicated with his eyes that the kid should touch the stone.
Terni did. “Ooh, isn’t it pretty.”
“Yes,” Hankley laughed. “We cannot just make them disappear, Terni. Nothing really disappears, it has to go somewhere.”
Mike calculated the rifles. There were hundreds.
Terni twisted his head this way and that. “What if we burn them then?”
“There’s no fire hot enough that would burn every scrap of the machinery on Zandell,” Mike said. “Not even the blacksmiths could get a fire big enough and hot enough for that lot.”
“There might be a way,” Hankley said.
“How?”
“I could use it.” He talked more to himself than Mike as he paced back and forth in front of the mound. “If I was to form a trept fire, no evidence
of guns or fire would remain. I don’t think Oln would mind if I-”
“Trept fire?” Mike interrupted.
“Mmm, it’s a special fire we use to engulf dead worlds. After the flames, the worlds re-grow to become habitable once more.”
“Sounds good to me,” Mike said, pulling Terni onto his feet and moving back a couple of steps. “Go for it, Hank.”
“You’d better get back further than that,” Hankley said.
Mike and Terni trotted back to within twenty paces of the fighting. Mike regarded the site of the battle. Derek had Ludo in a headlock and the king shouted to his son’s men to lay down their weapons.
“It’s over,” the king yelled repeatedly, as he rode through the persistent fighters. A scuffle sounded here and there, but the clang of metal against metal waned.
Heat warmed Mike’s back and he wheeled around. The rifles disappeared into a blazing inferno. A fire—white-hot, as white as a new, bleached tablecloth. No, even whiter.
Terni hid his face in Mike’s side, turning his small back to the fire.
The flames, too bright to watch, had Mike facing the castle. The warring armies stared, open mouthed, eyes bulging. Even the king, who had dismounted, paled, gaped in alarm and fell to his knees.
At his actions, thousands of men did the same. Only Derek, his arm still around Ludo’s head, remained standing.
Noor moved forward. The glow of the fire surrounded her like an aura. Her near black eyes seemed to swell and fill with awe. Her face took on a child’s wonder, but as she moved closer, disappointment flickered over her face.
The heat on Mike’s back cooled. He turned. There was no evidence anything had occurred in the middle of the field. He ran to the spot where a mountain of rifles was minutes before. Nothing. He knelt on the grass. It was warm, but not from the fire. A few of the sun’s warm, yellow rays had broken through the dark clouds overhead and caressed the new, green growth.
Noor fell on her knees. “What was that?”
“I… I don’t know,” Mike said, glad he spoke the truth. He had no idea what happened except a strange heavenly fire had engulfed the weapons and saved Zandell’s future. At least for the time being. One day someone would invent guns, but not that day, not for a long time.
Terni stood on the other side of Noor. “Hankley did it,” he said. “Wasn’t it scary?”
“Hankley?” Noor looked up. “Who is Hankley?”
“A god,” Terni said in a matter of fact tone.
Noor stood up. “What do you mean, a god?”
Mike sidestepped Noor and put his hands around Terni’s shoulders. “It was Hankley, but he’s not a god, he’s one of Oln’s servants.” He looked up into the sky and saw the thunderheads separate, lightening in color. All shades of grey drifted over the mountains to the north.
Hankley appeared and patted Mike on the head.
“What was with all the thunder and lightning? Were the gods fighting again?”
Hankley laughed. “No, they were cheering.” He gazed at the battlefield. “I think it’s over,” he said, as he shimmered and disappeared.
“What? That’s all?” Mike yelled to the heavens. “You think it’s over and you just go without saying goodbye? Hankley!”
“Mike?” Noor’s face was full of concern.
Mike shrugged. “He’s gone.”
She smiled. “Maybe you should tell the king about the fire.”
Mike nodded.
Terni tugged on his torn jacket. “The wall, Mike. Look.”
Mike ogled the wall of doors.
Noor peered in the direction of Terni’s gaze, then from Terni to Mike. Her eyes were full of questions.
Like Hankley, the wall shimmered and disappeared. It was only a vision, the wall wasn’t really there, but it was back where it should be. At least Hankley let him know they had fixed it.
Mike wagged his head. “The wall’s back, but I don’t know for how long exactly. We have to go.”
Chapter 28
Noor let out a noisy breath. “You’re not going anywhere until we see to those wounds and clean you both up so you are presentable to your families.”
Mike checked his arms, torso and legs. He was covered in blood, his and the enemies. Within seconds, his elation at the wall’s return plummeted—aches, pains and exhaustion overwhelmed him. He closed his eyes and sighed. “I want to see Vala anyway.”
Terni held Noor’s hand and they started back towards the silent battlefield. Mike fell in behind.
A blade had sliced through the back of Noor’s shirt and a bloody gash ranged from her left shoulder to the top of her right hip. “Noor,” Mike gasped, as he caught up to her. “Are you all right?”
Noor smiled. “The brigand was fast, but not fast enough.”
The king, now on his feet, talked to Derek as they approached. “Azu is angered.”
“I’m not surprised,” Mike said, glaring at Ludo. “Did you think what you did would go unnoticed by the gods?” He faced the king. “King Horace, we have got to get back to our homes.” Noor scowled. He quickly added, “After we clean ourselves up a bit.”
His mother and Dan would throw a fit at the way he looked. Noor was right. He took in Terni’s ragged appearance. His parents wouldn’t be too impressed with the dirt layer over the kid either.
“You boys are exhausted.” King Horace patted Terni and Mike on their backs. “We will leave at first light. Round up the prisoners,” he said to Derek. “We will meet in the throne room when Azu’s star meets the moon.”
Mike had no idea when that was, but right then, he did not care. Fatigue gripped his body all of a sudden, and he had no strength left to talk, let alone argue. He wanted to see Vala to let her know they were leaving. But first, he let Noor lead him and Terni back to the castle, and up to their apartments.
***
Carrying so many guns to the mound had bruised and scratched Terni’s arms. Mike insisted the kid’s wounds be treated first.
Once Mike and Terni had their injuries seen to, they dressed in the white tunics of court pages. Mike’s fatigue lifted and his aches lessened.
“Want to come with me to see Vala?” Mike asked Terni.
“Oh, yes, please.” He beamed, grabbed Mike’s hand and pulled him into the hall.
“Okay, settle down, I’m still too sore to go fast.”
“Sorry.”
Terni stopped hauling on him. Instead, he jumped and skipped around Mike to Vala’s room.
Mike knocked.
“Who is it?” The nurse asked.
“Mike and Terni. Can we talk to Vala?”
The door opened and the nurse smiled. She turned and retreated into the room. “This way.”
Vala’s bed was made—empty. The nurse had smiled. She wouldn’t do that if anything bad had happened.
“She’s been asking for you all day.” The nurse opened double doors on the side wall Mike hadn’t noticed before, and pointed into the next room.
Vala jumped out of her armchair, picked up her long, purple dress and darted around a low white table. Not only her eyes, but also her entire face lit up the moment she spotted Mike. Pink had returned to her cheeks. Her shiny hair caught the glow from the lamp as she threw herself into Mike’s arms. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”
Mike groaned.
She jumped back. “You’re hurt?”
“A bit, but I’ll live. You look good.”
She twirled, her dress swinging around her ankles. “I’m all better. See?”
As soon as she stopped, Terni hugged her waist.
She held him a moment before pushing the kid back a little. “Are you all right, little one?”
Terni grinned and nodded.
“Good. Come, sit down and tell me everything.”
Mike and Terni sat in chairs opposite Vala and took turns in recounting the day’s events.
“Tell her about Hankley,” Terni said. “And heaven and Azu.”
Vala’s eyes widened. “Tell
me.”
Mike did, and after he finished, Vala said, “You are now the king of Zandell.”
“That was just a story about the king’s family.”
“You are the king’s family and you have walked the streets of heaven.” She gave a little shrug. “You are the chosen ruler. That is how it should be.”
“No way, King Horace can keep the job and Derek can have it next… or Ternith, if he ever comes back.”
“But—”
“No, Vala, I’ve got to get home to my family, and so does Terni. We can’t stay.” No matter how much I want to, he added silently.
A pout returned to her mouth. She played with the frills on the front of her dress for a moment. “Can I come with you?”
Mike’s heart flipped. She would go to an unknown place, an unknown future, to be with him? He opened his mouth but slammed it shut again. No, he could not let her do that. What if she hated it and ended up hating him? What if he had no way of returning her to her world? He sighed. It didn’t matter anyway, there was no way Oln would let her go. She was not of Earth. She was of Cillian, and it might change history somehow if she were to leave one world to live on another.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “The gods wouldn’t allow it, and anyway, your home is here.”
“I have no family. I am a servant to the court alone.”
Maybe Mike could get the king to help with the servant part, but she wasn’t alone. “What about Noor? I know she loves you like family.”
“It’s not the same.” Her color deepened, spread out from her cheeks. She lowered her gaze and played with the frills.
“I’m sorry, really, but Oln said I could come back here to visit. Maybe he’d let Terni too.”
She looked up, eyes twinkling. “Do you promise not to stay away for long?”
Mike crossed his heart. “I promise.”
She laughed. “All right, I believe you.”
They chatted a long while, during which, Vala examined their wounds. She wanted to see and hear everything.
***
By the time Mike entered the throne room, his certainty that Vala had understood his need to leave evaporated. She wasn’t there. Mike and Terni had packed what little they had into carry packs and had gone to the kitchen for a drink. She had plenty of time to get there.