Tal felt the ground shaking slightly, as if many men were running towards him. He raised his head to see what was causing the commotion and was nearly sick with fright. Dozens of hideous, huge-jawed hounds were bounding towards him, baying and growling, as they came. However Gwena moved, calmly, to stand in front of Tal’s soldiers. She stood statuesque against the oncoming tide of drooling beasts.
Raising her hands Gwena began humming, she felt for her Mogya and let its familiar warmth infuse her body. The hounds slowed slightly unsure of themselves; they were not used to their quarry showing no fear.
Seeing the hounds slowing, the Cavalry above roared an inhuman war cry and charged down the slope towards the soldiers from Sarn.
Gwena’s humming grew louder, as the enemy soldiers thundered closer. She waited for a split second and then twisted her hands in an intricate dance, before screaming, “Tourim!”
As the word left her lips, the sand around Gwena began to rise. She started twisting her hands faster, before spinning – slowly at first, but quickly building up to an unbelievable speed; whipping up the sand into a frenzy. The tiny grains of sand seemed to band together; almost forming a thick blanket, the wind dramatically increased in strength. It was so powerful that the oncoming enemy had to lie flat against their horses for fear of the sudden blast blowing them from their saddles. Gwena continued to spin faster, as the sand and wind formed a deadly tornado.
Gwena shouted incoherently - a strange growling sound emanating from her throat. Her pupils rolled up; leaving only the whites of her eyes exposed to the world beyond and the wind grew even more powerful. More of the sand started flying, creating a wall, which hit the enemy, before picking them up and throwing them from their mounts. The sandstorm did not touch the huge alien horses, but the ferocity of the wind sent them bolting; leaving their riders lying in the deepening sand. As soon as the horses galloped over the sand dune, Gwena lowered her hands slightly and then clapped them hard together.
With this, the tornado worsened and expanded across the sand-filled land, turning into a hurricane that raged around the soldiers from Sarn, though never actually touching them. The column of sand and wind picked up the silver-armoured warriors and carried them high into the sky, before dropping them. The enemy soldiers thudded into the ground, dying instantly, such was the height from which they fell.
Gwena stared intently at the dying soldiers and waited until the last of them had fallen; she then moved her hands towards the ground as if telling somebody to get down and the hurricane immediately ceased. Without the wind to support it, the wall of sand fell, covering the mangled enemy bodies and their evil jawed hounds.
Gwena released her grip on her Mogya and retched. She stumbled slightly, as the inevitable exhaustion linked with the use of Mogya took hold, then collapsed. Tal leapt to his feet and rushed across to Gwena. He knelt down and cradled her head, as she smiled up at him weakly and said, “I hate Mogya.”
Tal chuckled, glanced around his now empty surroundings and replied, “I don’t.”
Ben stumbled across, leading the only horse that had not run away behind him. Tal pulled his sleeping roll from his pack and laid it on the floor; he then carried Gwena’s slight body across to it and placed her on it, so she could sleep. He and Ben then glanced to where Maerk and the survivors were burying their dead comrades.
It took half an hour for Tal’s troops to finish covering over the deep graves that they had put their friends in and a further ten minutes before they had completed mumbling their prayers for the dead. Tal stood next to Zimina and Aleron’s shared grave, holding a personal vigil for friends who had fought by his side for ten years. Once they had finished, Maerk re-formed the column. Tal glanced at Ben, as he saw the last of his troops limp into formation, and said, “Let’s be on our way then.”
Two of the soldiers then moved across to Gwena and gently lifted her into her saddle. One of the men then clambered up behind her and held her around the waist, so that she could sleep without falling off. Ben looked over his shoulder and saw that the surviving thirty soldiers were already moving forward, so he did not issue any commands, he merely followed behind Tal, who was now leading Gwena’s horse towards the distant Darkshadows Mountains.
He led the column for another strength-sapping hour, before he called a halt. Turning to Ben he said, “Get some water into the lads. If they are feeling anything like I do, then they are on their last legs.”
Ben nodded and sent a runner to Maerk, who was at the back of the column encouraging a number of strugglers that were lagging behind, to tell him to stop for water. Once the column had halted and the troops were drinking deeply from their water skins, it did not take long for Maerk to bring up the stragglers. After Ben and Maerk had ensured that the weaker members of the Regiment were alright, they sat down and rested for a few minutes. After a while, Tal called, “Let’s go then. The sooner we get into the mountains the quicker that it cools down. As soon as we get into the mountain range we’ll set up camp for the night.” He then took hold of Gwena’s reins and led her horse, as she slept, deeply, on the mare’s back.
After a while though, Tal had to slow down; due to the weight of two people, the horse’s legs were sinking into the soft sand. Because of this slowed pace, it took a further three hours before the column finally made its way off the barren desert and onto the rockier ground of the mountains. The night was drawing in fast and the stark contrast between the dry, burning air of the desert and the biting cold of the mountains made Tal feel unwell.
They continued moving for a while longer, until the shadows were so deep that they could no longer see where they were going. Ben ran to the front of the column and joined Tal, who was walking automatically, as if he did not know where he was. Ben placed his hands on Tal’s shoulders and shook him, as he said, gently, “I think we should stop here Tal.”
Tal shook out of his reverie, looking startled. He nodded slowly and sat on a rock. Ben pulled a thick woollen travelling coat from his pack and put it on. He then laid a blanket on the floor, before moving across to Gwena and helping the soldier lift her from her saddle.
She woke briefly, as she slid from her horse, but fell back into the comfort of sleep as Ben caught her and lowered her on to the blanket. Once he had wrapped Gwena in the blanket, Ben glanced across at Tal, who was still sitting on the rock, shivering against the cold. He hurried across to his friend and pulled his own woollen travelling coat from his pack. He then wrapped it around Tal’s shoulders and knelt in front of him. “Tal, snap out of it,” he said.
Tal looked startled again, but this time he stood up, put his coat on properly, before pulling his canvas poncho out of his pack, and erected a shelter from it. Ben glanced at the remainder of the column and saw that all, except Maerk, were sitting, almost hypnotised, just as Tal had been. Maerk looked at his father and shrugged, as he moved to each of his four corporals in turn. He shook each of them from their daydreams and told them to organise the troops into a guard rota.
Ben moved across to Maerk and said, “I don’t understand what’s up with them all; we’ll have to take it in turns watching them.”
Maerk nodded and then after indicating with a bob of his head towards Tal, replied, “You look after him and I’ll watch the guard.”
Ben nodded and moved back to Tal, who had finished building his shelter and was busy erecting a poncho over Gwena. Maerk moved across to a series of rocks near the furthest guard post and settled himself for the night. Every hour he moved across to the sentries to make sure that they were still alert. After a while, he began to lose his temper, because each time he went out, the soldiers were either staring into space or fast asleep. Falling asleep on sentry was the worst crime a soldier could commit, but Maerk knew all of his men and every one of them had been with him for more than five years; for his men to be falling asleep there must be something wrong.
Slightly before midnight, Maerk moved across to the guard post and inevitably had to wake the two men. Thi
s concerned him, so he tried to put everything together, Tal’s inability to focus, the soldiers’ lack of motivation, and his troops’ struggle to stay awake. He spun around to find Ben, but halted when he noticed a dark figure moving towards Gwena’s shelter. Seeing this, he growled and sped into action, sprinting towards the skulking figure. He leapt over hidden boulders as easily as he would in broad day light and missed the many snaking roots, as if he could see through the thick, dark shadows.
Maerk soon closed with the creeping form that was about to crawl into Gwena’s shelter. He dropped his shoulder and leapt at the man’s back, hitting him around the middle; driving the wind from his lungs. His momentum took him past the fallen figure and he flew for a few feet more, before crashing into a rock behind Gwena’s shelter.
Black spots erupted behind his eyes and his head felt as if he was swimming, but he forced himself to fight the feeling. Clambering back to his feet, he spun to face his opponent, but he did not have to worry, because the man was still lying prone on the floor, deep hacking breaths emanating from him.
Maerk moved across to the intruder and grabbed him by the collar, spinning him around he realised that the newcomer was very old. His grey, bearded face contorted in pain, as Maerk pulled him to his feet. Maerk pushed the instant sympathy that he felt to the back of his mind and dragged the old man away from Gwena, before growling, “Who are you and what do you want?”
The ancient man’s pale blue eyes shone with fear, as he replied, “I’m a friend, don’t hurt me.”
Just as Maerk was about to question the man again, Ben ran across. He immediately summed up the situation and asked, “If you’re a friend, why are you creeping around in the dead of the night?”
The old man’s shoulders slumped and he hung his head, as he replied, “I needed to talk to Gwena. I have been living on my own for so long that I’m not comfortable around people. I wanted to be in and out before anybody noticed.”
Ben’s mind whirled at what he had heard, but he hid his emotions as he asked, “How do you know Gwena?”
“I don’t know how, but I do recognise his voice,” called Gwena, from within her shelter. She clambered out weakly, from under the canvas poncho, and continued, “I don’t know how it is possible, but I think you spoke to me in these very mountains when I and my father were fighting a Demon.”
The old man smiled and answered, “Yes my Dear, my name is Elemi; I ‘m Kiera and Gantalla’s brother.” Lowering himself, gingerly, into a sitting position, he sighed heavily, before adding, “Many years ago, the Demon-King tried to kill me, but Mogya spirited me away. For years I didn’t know why, but then, when you were in danger, the reason presented itself - I was supposed to help you.”
Gwena moved to sit next to Elemi and asked, “Can you help me again?”
The Ancient one shook his head and replied, “I can’t Dear one; I’m struggling more and more to control my Mogya.” He glanced at Ben and Maerk then continued, “That is probably why the stronger willed in your party where not affected by my spell.”
Ben shook his head in disbelief, as Tal joined them. The Duke of Sarn remained silent, as Gwena pleaded, “Elemi you must help us: there is trouble in Anlam.”
Elemi smiled as he replied, “I know all about it. I may not have the power to aid you in your quest, but I do have the knowledge to help. You must get word to your brother, Gwion. It is only he, who can regain the crystal. Ciqala has inadvertently given him the power to do this. If you get him into Velumia and into the throne room, all he will have to do is touch the crystal and it will show him what he needs to do.”
He then glanced at the three warriors standing around them and said, “I’m sorry that you have wasted your time and the lives of your friends.”
Tal shook his head and replied, “It’s not been a waste: we now know that we can regain the power in the crystal. That is as important as the help that you gave Gwena all those years ago.” He peered shrewdly at the Ancient one and continued, “Because I believe that it was you that helped Gwena’s spirit fly into the crystal.”
Elemi grinned coyly as he replied, “It was, but unfortunately the effort required almost burnt me up; I’ve not been able to use much Mogya since.”
Gwena smiled, as she realised why his voice had sounded so familiar, he sounded like her father, Bray, but much older.
Elemi glanced at Gwena and said, “If you would excuse me my Dear; I’ll use the little power I have remaining and get myself out of here.” He smiled shyly and quipped, “It seems I have proved to be a terrible assassin and could not creep up on anybody if my life depended on it.” He then shot an amused glance at Maerk and continued, “It very nearly did.” He took a step to one side, bowed to the four companions, held his hands in the air and clapped them together. A cloud of red smoke suddenly engulfed the old man and then, just as suddenly, disappeared.
As it cleared, they could all see that Elemi was gone as well. Ben glanced at Tal with an uncertain look on his face, before saying, “Let’s face it; that was a waste of time. All that distance to be told that Gwion is the one, who can help.”
Ben went quiet when he saw Gwena’s face. She looked as if she was listening to somebody, but none of them could hear her. She then raised her eyebrow in a quirky manner and said, “I have a feeling that we’ve not seen the last of Elemi. I think we were supposed to find him to remind him who he is.”
Maerk laughed uncertainly and then after coughing to hide it, said, “That’s great all this way to make him nostalgic.”
At this, Tal glared at the Sergeant and growled, “That’s enough you two, if Gwena says that we were supposed to come here, well then, we’ll accept that.”
Ben, quite unused to anybody telling him what to do, glowered at Tal, but remained silent. Seeing his friend’s face, Tal laughed and quipped, “Spoilt child.”
Ben grinned and replied, “I suppose I am at that.”
Gwena chuckled at the two friends and then said, “I think it best if we move in the morning. I believe that Elemi’s spell has lifted, so I think that you’re safe to get some sleep. Your troops will be able to carry out their duties with no problems now.”
Maerk did not need asking twice, he was exhausted. Without a word, he turned to jog back to his shelter. When he reached it, he opened his pack and pulled out his sleeping mat and blanket. Once he had unrolled the mat, he lay down and wrapped himself in his blanket.
Gazing across the makeshift camp, Maerk could see that the others were settling themselves for sleep. He took one last look across at the guard post and then happy that the sentries were now wide-awake, closed his eyes. Very soon, sleep spirited him away and he was snoring gently.
Pushing the Advantage
Bray, pressed with his knees - sending his horse trotting to the front of the re-formed Elven column - before peering into the night’s oppressive gloom. As he rode back towards Antia, he spotted the enemy Cavalry galloping towards the city. By their body language, Bray could see that they were charging into a fight, but he could not see against whom.
Suddenly a massive ball of fire erupted from somewhere close to Antia, forcing Bray to shield his eyes. Once the fire died, Bray opened his eyes, but the bright flash had killed his night vision. Raeywin, who had not been facing Antia when the fire had exploded, hissed, “Yes! Its Primero, he’s attacking the enemy Cavalry.”
At this, Rahin guided his huge muscular Panther next to Bray’s horse and growled, “Let’s get over there and help him then.” Without waiting for a reply, he made a strange clicking sound with his mouth, which sent his enormous feline mount charging towards the enemy.
The remainder of the Panther Riders were only slightly behind him, as he sped towards Antia. Bray glanced at Raeywin, his night vision returning, and shot after the Panther Riders. Raeywin and Gwion sent their tall Elven steeds after him, bringing the remainder of the archers with them. Sam and Tom thundered past the archers with the other Sentinels close behind them, their larger stronger horses eat
ing up the distance much faster.
Rahin quickly closed with the Cavalry rear-guard and slashed at the nearest silver-armoured warrior. The enemy soldier parried the blow and then sent back a vicious blow with the mace in his other hand. The strike would have crushed Rahin’s skull if Galivan had not flicked his weapon out, severing the enemy soldier’s hand. Rahin stabbed the warrior through the heart and then bobbed his head quickly to thank Galivan. As the Elven second in command waved back to him, Rahin’s Panther pounced at another enemy warrior.
As he charged towards the battle, Bray watched the two Elven commanders causing chaos amongst the large, slower enemy Cavalry. He was concentrating so hard on the two battling Elves that he nearly missed the enemy soldier attacking from his left. Fortunately, he spotted the warrior in time, so, lashing out with his sword, he caught the enemy soldier’s falling blade, before punching him full in the face. The warrior’s face crumpled, his nose throwing out a crimson splash and he fell forward, dropping his blade, as Bray’s fist connected.
Bray was about to lean down to finish him, but Gwion’s horse careered past him, smashing into the fallen warrior and breaking the man’s back, killing him immediately. The stallion then charged towards another enemy soldier, who turned and fled from the roaring Gwion.
As her son’s horse crashed into the enemy, Raeywin notched an arrow and let it fly. The streaking projectile sped through the air and thudded into an enemy soldier galloping towards Bray, who was now battling with two of the large enemy warriors. The stricken enemy soldier, flipped forward, as the arrow imbedded itself in his back and his feet entangled with the closest of Bray’s opponents, pulling him from his saddle. Raeywin watched as the soldier fell from his horse and loosed another arrow into his chest; blood erupting from the wound as the arrow pierced the enemy warrior’s armour.
Destruction of a God Page 2