by I K Spencer
Garrick found conditions worsening all along the outer wall as he made his way back to his own men at the northeast corner. Dead and wounded lay all about and he was forced to skirt several new holes and breaches in the outer wall from the constant onslaught by the enemy catapults. He knew they would not hold the outer wall much longer.
Dawn was breaking as Garrick reached his post but it brought only despair, for the black mist remained, stronger than ever. He felt searing pain as a crossbow bolt caught in the fleshy part of his arm and he ripped it away angrily. Inside the fort, the dejected guardsman saw many fires burning out of control with no one to fight them. He suddenly felt exhausted; his hammer seemed much too heavy to swing. He wanted to just lay down and close his eyes. Instead, he forced the image of the fallen women and children into his mind, using rage to push the paralyzing hopelessness aside. With a roar to bolster his own courage as much as those around him, the guardsman rejoined the battle.
Chapter 53
Anthen crept silently through the camp towards Cidrl's tent. He met no guards so it was a relatively easy task. After all he had been through to get here it seemed too easy but he reminded himself that things might change drastically once he burst inside the traitor's tent. Muffled voices, too low to make out, could be heard from inside the tent as he came closer. He approached the rear of the tent, having entered the camp from the woods on the far side of the encampment. The strange, bluish light from within cast eerie shadows and he did not like the feel of it on his skin.
He skirted away from the tent, fearful of getting too close for some unknown reason, and made his way to his left to the three shining figures bound together within ten paces of the traitor's lair. The three unicorns had moved as far away from the tent as possible and he guessed that they felt the same way about the unnatural light. They parted to let him come in between them but otherwise ignored his presence.
The guardsman immediately went to work on their bonds. Thick cordage tethered each graceful neck to a hefty post fashioned by driving a young tree trunk firmly into the ground. Additionally, all three were hobbled with a length of rope tied above each delicate hoof, short enough so they could not run, or kick. He hoped the magical creatures had delivered a few well-placed blows before the hobbles were in place. He went to work on the hobbles first, as their absence would be less noticeable. He nearly gasped when he touched the first creature's shimmering leg. The coat was incredibly soft and the briefest touch filled him with reassuring warmth. The urge to maintain contact with the shining hide was nearly overwhelming and made it difficult for the guardsman to pull his hand away and remain focused on his task.
Anthen had just finished freeing the hobbles on the third unicorn when he heard stirring in the nearby tent. An instant later the tent flap opened briefly and two figures emerged. He immediately recognized the large form of Cidrl and he tried to hear their conversation. His interest turned into alarm as the pair turned and started walking directly toward him. He slid back and pressed himself flat in the sweet grass of the meadow, sliding his bow into position. They could not help but see him if they kept coming.
The pair paused after a few steps and Anthen considered trying to make it to some cover but spotted nothing within reach. Cidrl and the other man exchanged a few unintelligible remarks, then the traitor ducked back inside the tent, while the other man kept coming. Anthen braced himself, ready to jump the man if he got too close, but instead, the gentle creatures moved toward the oncoming figure to block the man's view of the prone guardsman.
As the man neared the glowing unicorns, Anthen caught a glimpse of his face and recognized Dolkes’ scarred and sneering visage. He did not move a muscle and Dolkes, all his attention on the magical beasts, did not notice the intruder on the ground just beyond them. He wondered at the purpose of this nocturnal visit but that became painfully clear as he heard the hiss of a sword sliding from its sheath. He started to rise but a deep voice commanded him to stop.
Stay human. I will gladly forfeit my life for the rest. The voice was calm, without a hint of fear.
Dolkes raised his sword for a strike and Anthen could not stop himself from rising. Dolkes was so intent on his task that he still did not see the guardsman; his eyes glittered with some perverted joy he anticipated from killing the nearest majestic beast and possessing its great power. Anthen aimed quickly and fired, finally drawing Dolkes attention away from the unicorn.
Dolkes dropped his steel and clutched at the arrow protruding from his throat. Anthen raced forward to finish him before Cidrl's lieutenant could raise an alarm. Dolkes saw the former apprentice and his eyes bulged in surprise and rage. He tried to scream but could make only a pathetic mewling sound, which Anthen cut off with a dagger through the dying man’s heart. The guardsman dragged the body behind the tent and listened for a moment to see if his presence had been detected but heard nothing.
After a few moments Anthen cautiously crept back to the unicorns and resumed his task, working as quickly as he could to free the remaining bonds. He did not know how long it would take before Dolkes would be missed. As he finished removing the last tether, the unicorns turned away from the tent so the missing leads would be less noticeable.
He crouched next to the silent creatures and waited, his eyes locked on the tent flap. If the flap moved before Teya arrived he would be forced to attack. His heart pounded as he counted the slowly passing minutes. He considered not waiting but that might put the others in more danger and probably mean that some of the unicorns would not be freed. Still, how long would it be before Cidrl became suspicious?
After just a few minutes, shouts from across the camp ended the guardsman's dilemma. The alarm came from the area of the main unicorn group so he had little doubt that his comrades had been discovered. For an agonizing second, he considered going to their aid but knew he could not; Cidrl and the horns were his first priority. Instead, he rushed forward to the tent flap, kicked it open and jumped inside. He quickly scanned the strangely lit interior, locating Cidrl along with two spellbound guardsmen standing immobile in the far corners. He raised his bow to fire at the traitor but did not pull the trigger. The bizarre sight stunned him for a moment.
Cidrl stood in the center of the tent holding two of the glittering horns close to his face. His entire body was encased in strange bluish aura. His eyes blazed as he stared at the horns, his face rapt, completely oblivious to the intruder.
"Cidrl!" Anthen needed to have the traitor see him, to see that he had won. "Drop the horns!"
It took a few seconds for Cidrl's eyes to focus on the guardsman. He then started laughing and Anthen was not sure the crazed monster could even recognize him now. A moment later he heard rustling from behind and wheeled around to face Vlaednyk and another Dolonarian soldier as they entered the tent.
"Kill him!" Cidrl roared, completely lucid once again.
The two spellbound guardsmen sprang forward immediately and Anthen felt himself rushed from all sides. This time he did not hesitate, dropping the Dolonarians with his first two quarrels before they could reach him. Spinning, Anthen shot both entranced guardsmen as they raced forward. He felt sick about having to kill his fallen comrades but he had no other choice and no time to grieve. He instantly dropped the empty bow and drew his blade, anticipating what would come next and whirling around to face his nemesis, now also wielding a blade. Anthen’s eyes were drawn from Cidrl's maniacal face to the weapon he held. The sword was not the one he sparred against so long ago in Gates and unlike any steel he had ever seen. The long and narrow blade, far narrower than Anthen’s broadsword, carried an unusual dull, black finish.
The two men stood for a moment, eyes locked on each other. The traitor's face bore a twisted smile, appearing to relish the opportunity to finish his former apprentice. Anthen saw no fear in the other's visage and doubted that he displayed the same confidence. He breathed a sigh of relief, though, as he heard the sound of the precious herd's flight from outside, which also caused Cidrl’s
smile to fade.
"Ah Anthen, I would like to spar with you and kill you slowly but I must recapture my quarry." The former guardsman's voice had a strange quality and seemed to echo in Anthen's ears.
Cidrl's eyes gleamed and the rest of tent suddenly seemed to dim. Anthen felt himself being drawn toward the traitor's glittering gaze. Suddenly confused, he lowered his sword and took a step forward. The sorcerer's face beamed and he beckoned Anthen forward while slowly raising the wicked sword he wielded. Anthen took another step, unable to break away from his former master’s stare but in his peripheral vision, the tent interior was gone, replaced by the comfortable furniture and bookshelves in Cidrl’s study at his estate back in Gates. He took another step, feeling for his scabbard to sheathe his blade.
"Yes, son, come have a cup of wine" Cidrl’s soothing voice offered. "You sparred well and earned it."
The apprentice took another step and glanced toward the corner of the room, where a woman stood, her mouth frozen in mid-scream.
"T-Teya?"
The incongruity of Teya appearing in the traitor’s study broke the spell and the vision abruptly dissolved. Blinking, Anthen instinctively jerked his sword up just in time to block Cidrl's blade before it cleaved him in two. As the swords clashed, blue fire leapt from the black sword to his own and he felt searing pain move up his arm with the fire. He staggered backwards to gain a few seconds reprieve, fighting desperately to keep hold of his own weapon.
"Meddling bitches," Cidrl hissed. "She will pay for that. Pity. That would have been quick and easy but as you will see, there are many ways to crush an insect." He closed the gap between them as he talked. "How do you like my new blade eh? It is my own creation. You should have joined me Anthen. The power is ... indescribably wonderful!"
Anthen was careful to avoid the man's eyes. The enchanted black blade slashed at him from the side and he parried. Again the blue flame engulfed him and he stumbled away in agony. He dropped his blade and his right hand trembled such that he had to wield the weapon left-handed. As he raised the weapon he saw to his horror that his sword was notched nearly halfway through where it had clashed with Cidrl’s enchanted blade.
Cidrl circled and closed again, thrusting at Anthen's heart. The young guardsman jumped back, avoiding the thrust, and ran to the far corner to gain time. Cidrl, the better swordsman, cut him off and closed again. Again the unearthly blade came at his head and Anthen had to block. This time, however, their blades stayed locked and Anthen screamed, his ears roaring, as the flame spread up his arm, then completely engulfed him. He somehow managed to keep hold of the blade with both hands but Cidrl was stronger and overpowered him, pushing through the parry. He could actually see the cruel weapon cutting through his blade. Cidrl leered at him from above as the black blade inched closer to the younger man's face and Anthen roared with pain as the weapon touched his cheek. He jerked his head away and with all his remaining strength, wrenched his sword to the side, slipping out of the deadly trap. Whirling with the movement, Anthen elbowed Cidrl sharply in the jaw and staggered away.
The traitor quickly recovered from the blow and closed on him instantly; Cidrl seemed like a giant, filling the space inside the tent. Anthen doubted his sword could take another parry so he took the offensive, thrusting and slashing as hard as he could. Cidrl laughed, easily blocking each attack and making both Anthen and his weapon suffer each time. The offensive was short-lived however, as the younger man's blade was soon rendered useless, cut clean through just a few inches above the hilt.
"Ah well, it was fun while it lasted." Cidrl offered his victim a friendly smile, as though they had just concluded a harmless sparring exercise, however, he waved the dangerous blade within inches of Anthen's heart. "I commend you for your persistence and congratulate you for being a considerable nuisance." He emphasized the compliment by nodding at the bodies that Anthen had left strewn about his tent. "But," the traitor continued, his smile broadening to a crazed grin, "you never really had a chance Anthen. I know that his hard for someone like you to accept but it is a fact. The very traits that would have made you a legendary guardsman were your downfall. Know that as you die, the realm is all but lost. It is true. At this very moment, Dolonhold is under heavy siege and, with my assistance, will fall within the hour. My throne is all but secured, with Urvena at my side."
Anthen knew that the words were meant to provoke a reaction and he denied the lunatic any satisfaction. In truth it was not a difficult task for the young guardsman was at peace. He hoped and waited for an opening but if that did not come, then so be it.
"Now you will pay," Cidrl hissed, infuriated by his former apprentice's calmness, "with your head!"
Instead of finishing Anthen off with a quick thrust to the heart, the enraged madman drew the weapon back, intent on beheading his foe. It was just the opening the young guardsman had prayed for. During Cidrl's speech, Anthen had slowly worked his left hand into the folds of the cloak and around the small bow hidden there. Now he pulled the weapon free and leveled it at the traitor.
Cidrl froze for a moment, distracted by Anthen's movement. A confused frown replaced his exhilarated expression as the traitor sought to identify the weapon in the younger man's hand. Anthen saw a flicker of recognition, then the monster howled with rage and swung the deadly blade.
Anthen did not hesitate this time, firing both bolts into Cidrl's heart. The traitor was knocked back a step but his strike did not falter completely. The black blade slashed into Anthen's ribs from the side, engulfing him once more in excruciating blue fire. Cidrl let go of the weapon and it lodged there. Anthen fell to the ground, writhing and screaming in agony. His entire body convulsed uncontrollably for several seconds until the cruel weapon was finally dislodged and fell away. He went rigid, shuddered, and did not stir again.
"Nooooooooooooo!" Cidrl screamed in disbelief as he stared at the two small arrows embedded deep in his chest.
The traitor fell backwards against the tent wall and slid to the ground. He fumbled frantically for the magical horns at his belt and ripped two free.
"Save me! I command you!"
He thrust them over his head, but saw no magical aura. They felt lifeless in his dying hands.
It is too late, a female voice mocked inside his head. The dark power has no use for a dead man.
"Please," he sobbed, begging for a reprieve. He willed the talismans to return to life with all his strength but the horns remained cold and dead. "No," Cidrl whimpered with the realization that his plea would not be answered and moments later, the precious horns slipped from his lifeless hands.
********
Garrick and the others left stranded atop the outer wall battled furiously. The remaining archers had been pulled back to the inner wall and the wooden bridges spanning the two walls retracted; the warriors left on the outer wall would fight to the last man. The archers helped for a time but soon so many of the enemy had filled the gap between the walls that they drew all the bowmen's fire and the brave warriors on the outer wall were on their own. The aging guardsman fought ferociously, though he knew he would surely die. He now saw far more Dolonary regulars on the bulwarks than defenders and he was covered in blood, much of it his own.
He was busy fending off three enemy swordsmen and felt a searing pain in his left thigh as a fourth attacker drove a pike deep through his mail. He whirled and knocked the pikeman off the wall with a desperate stroke from his hammer, the falling man’s screams quickly swallowed by the din of the raging battle. He ripped the pike free but the leg gave way and the mighty warrior fell to his knees, no longer able to stand. A heavy blow crashed against his helm from behind and he fell forward. He fought to stay conscious and rolled over, certain he was finished but wanting to face the final, fatal thrust.
The ringing in his ears temporarily replacing the terrible sounds of battle, Garrick just lay there, staring at the black clouds not far above him. He frowned; it would have been nice to see the blue sky just once more. The din of
the combat raging all around him seemed far away. He felt cold and thought maybe he had missed the fatal blow somehow and was already dying, remembering how mortally wounded comrades had always felt chilled in the last minutes of life.
As his hearing returned though, the guardsman heard something different from the expected horrific noises of battle. He recognized the sound of the wind, rushing over the ramparts. Icy gusts stung his cheeks, so perhaps he was not dying. It was a cold wind, and growing stronger by the moment. Brighter too, all of a sudden. He looked up and watched the black fog thinning and a moment later, saw glimpses of blue sky. It took a few moments for it to sink in, then tears of joy rolled down his grimy, bloody cheeks as he realized what the sudden change in weather signified.
"By the gods they have done it!" Garrick roared and pushed himself up, giggling like a child. He struggled to his feet and hopped on his good leg to the edge of the wall to watch the strong wind push the dark enchanted mist away to the east.
The drastic weather change had caused a momentary break in the fighting and there was an eerie silence as thousands of soldiers near the fortress looked up to the heavens, confused and afraid. It lasted only seconds, then the battle resumed, but with critical differences. The dreaded catapults were still firing but in the face of the now potent headwinds, the boulders were falling far short of the fortress, landing instead among their own columns of advancing foot soldiers and cavalry units. The rain of arrows from the countless enemy archers was also blown back, cutting down their comrades instead. And for the first time that day, Garrick saw fear and doubt in the eyes of the Dolonarians atop the wall.
"To Arms! Quickly!" the guardsman bellowed with renewed hope, knowing they must move instantly to take advantage of the enemy's short-lived confusion.