by H. J. Cronin
‘King Bethegar?’ Bry asked with surprise, ignoring the other words the captain had spoken.
‘Your father is dead, as is your brother Brehan, and soon you and King Bethegar will join them.’ Bry fought back tears as the captain gave her the news. ‘You will come with us,’ he carried on. ‘You will lead us to Johan and the rest of your fugitive group. You are then sentenced to death.’
‘Bry run!’ Palar said, drove a concealed blade into the throat of one of the soldiers and they both ran through the gap.
‘Get them! I want that bitch alive,’ the captain said pointing at them. ‘Kill the man.’
Palar and Bry ran for their lives as the soldiers pursued them. Suddenly, whizzing past their ears came crossbow bolts. Some thudded into barrels and other objects which littered the dock, one even hit a passer-by in the stomach.
They both ran back towards the bottom of the cobbled hill which led towards the gate. More soldiers had joined the chase. While she ran Bry took on her light brown bear form and threw Palar on her back. Palar looked around at their pursuers and it wasn’t long before a crossbow bolt thudded into his left eye and another into his back; he fell off Bry’s back and crashed to the ground.
She stopped at once and made to pick him up, but with his last ounce of strength he motioned her to keep running. Bry found it hard but nodded at him and then ran off. A crossbow bolt hit her left shoulder but the muscles of the bear prevented it from causing her harm. She charged through the streets of Selarmus towards the gate which was drawing closer. A line of soldiers had drawn up in front of the gate forming a wall. So big was she that without any real challenge she smashed through the line taking one of the soldiers in her mouth and throwing him to the ground. The gate was locked but her power managed to smash through the crude wood and she was free.
Bry did not see the soldiers on the gate house who managed to hit home two more bolts which hit her in the back, but she carried on back towards where her friends were camping. Luckily she was too fast and the Black Widow’s men did not have the chance to follow.
Later that day Bry, in her bear form, crashed down in front of her remaining companions. She had three crossbow bolts protruding from her fur with traces of blood running from them.
Johan was first to run over to her and place a hand on her. She changed back to her human form but the bolts remained inside her.
‘What happened, Bry?’ Johan asked frantically with tears streaming from his eyes. ‘Where is Palar?’
‘We … we … we were betrayed by his … associate … the Black Widow … she has control over most of the north,’ she struggled to reply. ‘My father … my brother … both dead at her hands,’ she managed to say, and her body became limp.
‘No! You can’t die! We’re in this together!’ Johan pleaded, gripping her hand tightly. Her eyes began to close, ‘Bry!’ he called out as her eyes shut.
‘Live Johan, avenge my family,’ were her last words as she slipped into darkness and left this world.
Ardag stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘She is right Johan, we must find a way off Wilmurin, it is getting more dangerous by the day,’ he said, also fighting back tears.
‘Give me a moment, Ardag,’ Johan said, and knelt over to give Bry a kiss.
‘We will burn her body as is druid custom, Johan. She is with Drugar now,’ Ardag said, with as much sympathy as he could muster. ‘After that we will head to the Whispering Forest – the enemy are too afraid to use that place. We will come up with another plan there. Most likely we will head to south Wilmurin.’
‘No, wait!’ Johan interrupted. ‘I still have the last Life Scroll.’ He pulled out the red crystal for them to see.
‘No, Johan, that is for you. That is your only chance of survival should you die. Your life is worth more than Bry’s,’ Ardag tried to plead.
‘No, if Bry is gone then I will not continue. We are a team, we do this together.’ Johan ignored any of the protests his companions gave and began reading the writing on the scroll, the red mist flew into Bry’s mouth and she suddenly sat up with a gasp and the scroll burst into flames.
They set up a small camp in the forest. The past two weeks had been extremely hard with the loss of Palar, a dear friend who was also a good companion. Johan had not said a word; he sat on a fallen tree alongside Ardag and Garpaw, chewing some dried deer meat. Bry had been momentarily annoyed that Johan used his last Life Scroll, but she was secretly happy that he had shown that kind of love to her.
Bry had told them what had happened to her father and brothers. The companions were shocked and gave a brief moment to reflect on what they had just heard.
Later that day the companions lay down on their sleeping mats and all of them drifted into a deep sleep. The journey south would take many months, they would have to avoid anywhere people would be.
Johan awoke in the early hours to the sound of footsteps around them. He jumped up at the sight of five Blood Knights surrounding them along with one of the counts. Behind them were a dozen mounted skeleton warriors.
Ardag was already on his feet with his katana drawn, Garpaw had taken on his wolf form and was growling at the vampires and Bry, in her bear form, stood beside Johan showing her sharp white teeth.
‘Did your fellow count’s stupidity not teach you anything?’ Ardag said, taunting them.
‘You do not stand a chance, son of the Eagle,’ Count Drakar said, laughing mockingly. ‘You are outmatched, we do not come for just Johan – you will all die today. Soon High Count Darkool will rule this world and your people will fall beneath the Vandalore Clan.’
Without a second thought Johan charged forward with his sword pointing towards his target. The sudden move caught Count Drakar off guard and within seconds Johan was upon him. Full of rage the Night Hunter fought fearlessly against the extremely skilled count. Ardag, Bry and Garpaw followed suit and joined the melee. They knew they could not escape so they would have to fight to the death.
Johan just about managed to parry a would-be fatal blow from a Blood Knight behind him. With lightning speed and unknown skill he swung his sword at his attacker and cut through the neck of the Blood Knight, decapitating it.
Count Drakar managed to fall back and let his minions do the fighting. Ardag easily disposed of three of the skeleton warriors but came unstuck when two Blood Knights ran at him from either side. Luckily he knew how to fight and his blade was like an extension of his body. He managed to block the terrifying speed of the Blood Knights and killed one with a clean slice through its neck.
Now the odds were even against the other Blood Knight they duelled ferociously. The faceless Blood Knight managed to cut Ardag’s arm with its jagged blade causing blood to run down his arm. He blocked another attack and then went on the offensive.
Garpaw and Bry both made easy work of the skeleton warriors. Garpaw jumped from bone steed to bone steed tearing the limbs from the undead soldiers. He then saw the lone count observing the battlefield, charged towards him and leapt at the count.
The count saw the large wolf flying towards him and effortlessly raised his hand into the air. Red lightning burst from his hand which hit Garpaw directly, sending the helpless wolf crashing into a tree. Count Drakar made his way over to the grounded wolf to finish it off.
Johan fought with a Blood Knight armed with an axe. The Blood Knight was very skilled with the axe and made Johan fight hard.
‘Stop!’ Came a voice, and right on cue they all looked up at where the noise was coming from.
Count Drakar had his sword pointing down towards the throat of Garpaw. ‘Throw down your weapons or I kill the wolf,’ he instructed Johan and Ardag.
Exhausted and panting they both looked at him and threw their weapons down. One of the Blood Knights took both of the weapons.
‘You pathetic humans,’ Count Drakar said, cackling. He raised his sword up into the air ready to bring it down on Garpaw, and then remorselessly drove his blade into the neck of Garpaw’s hum
an form.
‘No!’ Johan called out as the sword came down.
Count Drakar looked up and laughed and then suddenly five arrows, fledged with leaf-like feathers, hit the surprised count with a thud in the back of the head. He dropped to the ground lifeless and still. Ardag and Johan looked around as more arrows came out of the bushes and hit the remaining Blood Knights and the skeletons. Then there was a roar and out of the bushes came two dozen men dressed in green armour and wearing pointed helmets. They were armed with curved blades and they crashed into the remaining undead soldiers.
After the small skirmish Johan and Ardag ran over to Bry who was back in her human form they instantly ran over to Garpaw's motionless body, Bry couldn't hold back her tears and neither could Johan but Ardag closed his eyes and said a prayer.
They turned around after hearing footsteps behind them and looked at the new arrivals warily.
‘Thank you, friends – who may you be?’ Ardag asked curiously, still clutching his katana.
Out of the bush came a women flanked by another two of the mysterious soldiers. She was extremely beautiful with pale green skin and ivy-like hair. Johan recognised her instantly.
So did Ardag, who brought his sword up in defence as a feeling of panic came over him; Bry was equally shocked. At exactly the same time they could only utter one word, ‘Elves.’
15
Northern Demise
The king of the Clan of the Bear, King Bethegar, charged on all four paws in his big black bear form through the harsh and unforgiving Dark Wood. Time was against his people, scouts had reported that the Vandalore Clan had reached Perthyon and were soon going to make their way north to his home, Bemon. An undead host whose numbers far exceeded those of his own army. He needed more help.
It wasn’t very long before the Dark Wood was behind him; if there was any race that could help him it would be the giants, the twenty-foot beasts could make a large enough hole in any army.
Just as the sun left the world and the moon took its place King Bethegar found himself at the front of the enormous cave where the giants lived. He returned to his human form and walked in slowly and warily so as not to startle them. All it would take was one swift whack from a startled giant’s club to end Bethegar’s existence.
He stepped into a large cavern and around a fire sat eight of the behemoths. Just above them hung the carcasses of sheep ready to be eaten. The laughs and voices of the giants were so loud that they echoed throughout the cave system.
Bethegar drew himself up, took in a deep breath and called out to the giants in their language, ‘Ka’ka of the great giants! I greet thee!’
The giants were instantly on their feet, grabbing whatever weapon was closest. They would have crushed Bethegar if it hadn’t been for Ka’ka, who stopped them. ‘Bethegar, what brings you here?’ Ka’ka asked in his deep voice. He had long grey hair which came down to his shoulders, and like the other giants he had a big round nose and dark eyes.
‘I have come to feast with your tribe and to bring news.’
‘Of course, Bethegar son of King Bemnom, come and have a seat,’ Ka’ka offered with his hands. Bethegar’s expression when Ka’ka mentioned his father was not lost on the giant.
‘Gratitude, my old friend,’ Bethegar said.
‘So what news do you bring? How fares your father?’ The giant asked.
‘My father is dead, as is my brother, killed by the Black Widow,’ Bethegar said, looking down at the ground.
The news obviously troubled Ka’ka who looked down sadly. ‘I pity your loss Bethegar, or should I say King Bethegar.’
‘A title I did not want, Ka’ka,’ Bethegar said looking up at the giant; it was strange for Bethegar to actually look up at someone.
‘A title that is yours nonetheless, King Bethegar,’ the giant immediately replied.
Bethegar took in another breath and sighed because of the news he was about to give, ‘Wilmurin is once again at war,’ he started, and the giant gave his own sigh. ‘Count Darkool has returned, but this time with an undead army, far greater than any this world has seen. The northern clans defeated the Black Widow’s forces on an open field but Darkool is coming with ten times that amount. He will be at Bemon in just over a week.’
‘That is terrible news King Bethegar. Not meaning to be rude, but shouldn’t you be in Bemon preparing your defence?’ one of the other giants asked; this one had short black hair.
‘I have come here to request your aid. With you on our side we can put up a much better fight,’ Bethegar finally asked them.
They all sat back without saying a word. Ka’ka finally stood after some time and looked at King Bethegar. ‘It would seem that our world is in grave peril, King Bethegar. I have thirty-five giants hiding out in these caves – if we committed to battle we would devastate the enemy lines,’ Ka’ka started and Bethegar began to smile and feel some hope. ‘But,’ the giant carried on, ‘if we commit to battle then our race would be wiped off of the face of this world. Not a single giant would live.’
‘But if you sit here in this cave Count Darkool will find you and kill you where you stand. Will you not fight for your children and your home?’ Bethegar appealed.
‘This is not our war, King Bethegar. My apologies, old friend, but I will not see my people into extinction. You are alone on this one.’
‘How can you say that? My kin let your kind live after the Second War of Wilmurin – the least you can do is repay that with your aid,’ Bethegar said as he started to grow angry.
Ka’ka looked quite irritated at the comment but quickly calmed himself down. ‘You ask us to repay you with our blood, but I will not allow it, King Bethegar. This tribe will not come to your aid,’ Ka’ka said in dismissal.
‘What happens when Count Darkool eventually comes for you? If we do not unite he will kill us all,’ Bethegar pleaded; he then got on his knees. ‘I beg you, Ka’ka, see sense, help us.’
‘A king should not kneel to other beings King Bethegar. My answer has not changed. The giants are not going to war.’
‘So be it,’ Bethegar said with pain in his voice. He understood why they did not want to fight; would he in their position? They sat down and shared a meal before Bethegar said his farewells to the giants.
At the entrance to the cave Ka’ka had one more thing to say, ‘Apologies, my old friend, I wish hope upon you in your upcoming conflict. You are a good king, and victory comes to good kings.’
‘Thank you Ka’ka, and I will never forget how you saved me from certain death.’ With that they parted ways, Bethegar returned to his black bear form and charged back through the Dark Wood towards Bemon.
‘They were slaughtered, every single one of them, and only a dozen remained to bring us the news,’ King Persus said to King Bethegar with pain in his voice. ‘King Felclore was struck down as well, fighting just outside Bruskany. The Clan of the Wolf is all but destroyed apart from the remaining son Scarpaw and his small band of soldiers; let us hope that the war does not find its way to Weydon.’
King Bethegar fought back all of his emotion as King Persus spoke of the wolves’ defeat, which had come far quicker than anyone could have imagined. Now the Black Widow was free to enslave the north west and Bethegar was helpless.
He sucked in a deep breath. ‘There is nothing we can do. The loss of the Clan of the Wolf is heavy on us,’ he said with a sigh.
‘What is the plan of defence?’ Parmeus asked.
‘There is not much we can do. The giants will not fight for us. Our walls are made of timber and stone, they will crumble under catapult fire. Bemon will burn just as Flordonium did,’ Bethegar said.
‘Do not be defeated already, King Bethegar,’ King Persus started. ‘There is always a chance that we can stand up to Count Darkool and win—’
‘Ha! Win?’ Bethegar interrupted. ‘This battle is already lost – half a million of his soldiers are coming for us. Our clans will be wiped off the face of this world,’ he said beginning to raise
his voice; some of the men were there and heard the exchange.
‘Keep your voice down!’ King Persus said immediately, ‘The men are listening. The moment you lose hope is the moment that we will be defeated. While hope still lives in the hearts of our men, victory is always a possibility.’
‘I hold no hope for our people, King Persus,’ Bethegar said with a snarl, and left.
He walked through the overcrowded streets of Bemon. Refugees from Perthyon wore blank faces, babies cried while their parents sobbed. There was a sense in the air that everybody knew the end was coming. It wasn’t until a small boy bumped into Bethegar that he changed his mind.
‘Sorry sir I wasn’t loo—’ the boy paused as he saw who he had bumped into, ‘so … so … sorry King Bethegar.’
‘It’s all right child, where is your family?’
‘My mother died when I was little and my father died in the Battle of Drugar’s Fields. I am left with my older sister. Will you destroy those who come here to destroy us?’ The boy asked, his face full of innocence.
Bethegar paused, he thought for a moment and then saw the boy’s eyes welling up. He knelt down and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulders. ‘I will not let anybody into this city to harm the people within. We will defeat the enemy, I will see to that.’
With that Bethegar came up with an idea; he pinched the boy’s cheek and ran back towards King Persus and his son.
‘Gather all of our captains, King Persus – meet me by the gate,’ he called out as he passed the Black Panther Clan king.
An hour later a small band of captains had formed a semi-circle around King Bethegar. He sucked in a deep breath and then bellowed in a loud parade ground voice, ‘Men! Any day now the enemy will come. They do not offer terms and they will show us no mercy. We will not let them near our families!’ He punched his fist into the air as he spoke and the men looked at each other and nodded. ‘Gather every single man and woman able to wield a sword, spear, axe or bow. There is to be no arguing, this is everyone’s war and everyone will fight – whether they think they can fight or not – we will hold this city and take down every dead abomination that comes before us,’ he said with hungry eyes, and the men cheered. ‘This will not be our end! Our numbers will swell and we will fight this Count Darkool until the end!’ The men gave another loud cheer, ‘Good luck my brothers, and may Drugar guide your weapons!’