Hyperion's Shield

by Nathan Schivley

  "But how can that be—" Regan answered her own question before she could finish it. "They're in Reysa?"

  Xander nodded his head.

  "Where?" cried Regan. "There is no jail large enough to hold one hundred and fifty Reytana anywhere in the city!"

  "That's because it's under the city."

  A shiver ran down Regan's spine. She remembered how cold and empty she had felt living in The Hole for only a short period of time. A mixture of fury and despair filled her heart. Her eyes began to water. She turned away from the prisoners in order to hide her face.

  "Regan..." Xander said softly but she raised her hand at him and walked away.

  The shadows grew long in the valley as the sun began to set over the Crescent Mountains. Twenty bird-like vessels floated up and down as they approached the city of Reysa.

  It was almost time.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Basecamp

  Twilight painted the tips of the tallest buildings in Reysa with a golden brush. The rest of the city was a dark silhouette against the auburn sky. Even though daylight had faded, the sun shield remained above the city. It had not retracted since Loras, Regan and Tinko escaped. Rankin had ordered it so. It was the first ordinance that he had instituted as the new governor. He said that it served as a reminder that the Gartolians were always there, always watching, even while the Reysene slept.

  At this hour, the Gartolian base camp lay in the shadow of the city. Torch lights began to glow at evenly-spaced intervals throughout the rows of tents. A soft light emanated from the only door of the large command center in the middle of the camp. Two Gartune soldiers stood at either side of the door, staring straight ahead. A group of eight Gartune, marching two abreast, patrolled the perimeter of the circular building. The muffled sounds of a one-sided argument leaked out of the command center door.

  "Where are my tanks?" shouted Hadrian. "They should have been here two days ago!"

  "They should be here by the morning," said Morlo. The tone of his voice did not convey the certainty that Hadrian was looking for.

  "You told me the same thing yesterday, and the day before that!" seethed Hadrian. "Are you lying to me again, Morlo?"

  "No, your highness, it's just that—"

  "I don't want to hear excuses!" interrupted Hadrian. "The Reytana could arrive at any time." The king stood over the shorter Gartune and pressed an angry finger into his chest. "And if they get here before my tanks, it's you who I will hold responsible. And trust me, you will not enjoy the consequences of that failure."

  "I understand, your highness," whispered Morlo, looking at his feet. Just then the doors swung open and two Gartune sentries entered, holding a much smaller man in between them. They shoved the man forward and he awkwardly fell to his knees on the hard dirt floor. A mixture of coughing and muttered cursing came from the man's bowed head. Water dripped from his matted hair and dirty clothes. He spit, wiped his mouth, then spit again before rising up onto one knee and lifting his head.

  "We found this waif trying to climb up the old cliff path to Reysa," said one of the sentries. "He claims he was looking for you."

  "I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten about us," said Hadrian to the man on the floor. "That would have been a costly mistake on your part."

  "I never forgot, your 'ighness," said Declin in between another round of coughs. "I got 'ere as fast as I could. 'Ad to take da river and it's been awhile since I 'ad da occasion to travel dat way." He rung out one of the sleeves of his shirt and formed a muddy puddle on the floor. "Normally, I would 'ave walked, but I knew you needed me 'ere quickly. So, 'ere I am."

  "And what do you have for me, waif?"

  "Dey are comin'" said Declin, still trying to catch his breath. "I left before dem but dey weren't far behind."

  "Which way are they coming from?" asked Morlo.

  "'Tavian's Pass is what dey told me and dey had no reason to lie. Dey may even be at da end of it right now."

  "So Rankin was right,” replied Hadrian.

  "Should I move the army to the mouth of the pass, your highness?" asked Morlo eagerly.

  Hadrian studied the waif silently for a good deal of time before answering his commander. "No..." said Hadrian thoughtfully. Declin and Morlo both gave the king a confused look. "You wouldn't be playing both sides again, would you, old friend?"

  Declin's face changed from confusion to anger. "I didn't nearly drown myself to come down 'ere and lie to ya!" said the waif at a volume that he instantly regretted. Hadrian raised one eyebrow at the torman. Declin adjusted his tone.

  "I mean... I wouldn't dare to lie to ya, your 'highness. The floaters are comin' through da Pass, you can be assured of dat. And if dey aren't 'ere already, dey will be soon. Dat you can also be certain of."

  Hadrian stroked his jet-black goatee while continuing to study the waif. The flames from the torches inside the room reflected off of the meticulously polished bands of metal that adorned his wrists, shins and forehead. Eventually, a small smile appeared on his face and Declin exhaled.

  "Morlo, take a regiment to the mouth of the pass and have them sink the forest turrets."

  "But if the Reytana are here, we won't have the time to—"

  "You'll have time," said Hadrian before Morlo could finish. "Even if the Reytana are already here, they won't come out of the pass until morning. Take the soldiers and sink the turrets and then wait in the forest. Do not approach the mouth to the pass. At first light, the Reytana will emerge. Let them come all the way out of the valley before you engage them. Cut off their retreat and force them toward the rest of us. Do not let them back into the pass, do you understand?"

  "Yes, your highness," said Morlo with newfound determination. "I will drive them to you like nimbers to a hungry mendkin!"

  "Just remember who the mendkin is..." replied Hadrian. "Now go. You have your orders." Morlo pounded his chest twice with a closed fist and then spun excitedly and stomped out the door. After Morlo left, Hadrian nodded to the two guards to let them know they could retake their posts outside the building. Once they, too, had exited the room, Declin nervously shifted his weight back and forth between his good leg and his bad while grinding his hands on his walking stick.

  "So, if 'der is notin' else dat you be needing me for, your 'ighness, I will be on my way."

  "I'm afraid you won’t be going anywhere, old friend," replied Hadrian. "You're going to have a front row seat for this one. And I hope, for your sake, that your information is accurate. If I so much as see one hovercraft come from the sea or from behind us on the plains, I will personally see to it that you are loaded into a tank and fired into the heart of the Reytana."

  "Tank?" replied Declin a bit confused. "Granted, it were dark when I got 'ere, but I didn't see no tanks out der in da camp..."

  Hadrian walked up to the waif slowly and the small smile returned to his face. "No... you didn't, did you?"

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: Ambush

  Dawn was minutes from breaking in Octavian's Pass when Loras awoke from his half-slumber. The Reytana armada had landed several hours ago and Gracien had recommended that everyone use the time to rest up before morning. Easier said than done, Loras thought as he stretched his arms.

  Loras had drifted in and out of consciousness for the past two hours, and he found himself more tired than if he had not slept at all. Every time he drifted into sleep, he immediately started to dream of the upcoming battle. The dreams didn't last long though, as inevitably he always wound up dying in some new and spectacular fashion. Often, he found himself at the wrong end of a Gartune eüroc. Twice he was shot by a tank and once he was run over by one. He even somehow managed to fly a hovercraft straight into the cliffs of Reysa. Each time he died in a dream, he jerked awake, wide-eyed and sweating. Now that morning was almost there, Loras found that he was thankful to be relieved of his dreams and ready to face reality.

  The valley floor was bustling with commotion. A few stragglers that had sought their sleep on the ground rather
than on the hovercraft deck were climbing aboard their ships. The hum of solar energy igniting the hovercraft began to reverberate through the valley. Ship after ship gently lifted off of the ground. Gracien had parked the fleet right before the last bend that led to the mouth of the Pass. From there, it was a straight shot of about a thousand yards to the base of Reysa.

  Loras climbed aboard the lead ship and found Gracien giving final orders to his lieutenants. The majority of the Reytana fleet were to advance on the Gartolian base. While the enemy was engaged, Gracien would fly his hovercraft and the energy orb, up to the city.

  From there, Gracien and a small contingent of Reytana would sneak into the capital and fill the lotus' orb in the courtyard. With a full supply of solar energy, they could then activate the city's defenses and provide support for the Reytana fighting below.

  The lieutenants each took turns clasping forearms with their captain before heading off to join their own ships. Gracien turned to Loras. The leader of the Reytana had a glow to him that Loras had never seen before. Determination radiated from his entire being. Just looking at him filled Loras with courage. He knew at that instant that he would follow Gracien anywhere, even if it meant to his death, and was certain that everyone else in the army felt the same way. With that knowledge, Loras felt for the first time that, maybe, there was a chance of winning the battle to come.

  "Are you ready, young warrior?" asked Gracien as he took his post at the helm of the hovercraft.

  "I've been dreaming of this day my entire life," said Loras as he stood beside the Reytana captain, "but I don't think I've been ready until just now."

  "Good," said Gracien. "Because it's time." Gracien beckoned to the helmsman and the hovercraft lifted off of the ground to join the other ships in the air. At the same moment, the sun began to peak over the Crescent Mountains and flooded the valley with light. The hovercraft drifted into their "V" formation and sped toward the mouth of Octavian's Pass. Sunlight glistened off of the metallic wings as they curved around the last bend in the valley. Gracien's ship led the charge.

  Gradually, the valley widened and the slope on the southern side leveled, giving way to forest. Straight ahead, the cliffs of Reysa rose out of the horizon. At its base, the Gartolian camp sprawled from the mountain wall to the sea.

  As the ships emerged from the mouth of the valley, Gracien raised his hand and the lead ship slowed its pace. The trailing ships decelerated to match. They cruised forward slowly. Up ahead, the Aeil River escaped the forest and cut across the plain toward Reysa. Here, it was only about twenty feet across and smooth as glass – a far cry from the wide, gushing torrent of water that could be found near its source in Woodhaven. Rectangular shadows crossed the sparkling river as the hovercraft soared overhead. Gracien frowned as he scanned the area in front of him. He ordered his ship to slow even further.

  "What's wrong?" asked Loras. "Why are we slowing?"

  "Something isn't right..." said Gracien. Just then, something in the forest caught his eye. He thought he saw light flash off of a metal structure in the ground. Then it was gone. Gracien ordered his ship to stop. He studied the forest floor. Suddenly, there was another shiny reflection on the ground, then another, and another. Large circles of dirt began to rotate and rise out of the forest floor. Gracien had just enough time to yell "They're in the forest!!" before the first shot exploded from the trees.

  Loras flew backward as the front of his hovercraft burst into a shower of wood and metal. His back hit something hard and it knocked the wind out of him. For several seconds a ringing filled his ears as he gasped for air. Blotches of white light obscured his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut to try to make them disappear. Darkness enveloped him as he sat clutching his ears.

  After a few seconds the ringing dissipated and was replaced by the sounds of people shouting. The ship lurched backward as the helmsman attempted to regain control even though the vessel was now missing its front half. Loras opened his eyes and saw a bright clear sky above him. The white splotches were gone. He attempted to stand but was immediately thrown to the deck again as the hovercraft banked hard. It was then that Loras got his first glimpse of the carnage.

  The armada was in disarray. Some ships were pointed toward the forest and firing relays of solar flares into the trees. Others were heading back for Octavian's Pass. Loras could see that several ships had sustained damage; more damage than he thought was possible in such a short amount of time. He looked into the forest to find where the first shot had come from. A steady thud, thud, thud of ammunition fire rang out from several cylindrical turrets that had emerged from the ground. Loras did not see any Gartune, but he occasionally spotted a violet cloak flapping from behind one of the turrets, so he knew that they were there.

  "Back to the Pass!" someone shouted from a hovercraft close by. The ships that remained disengaged and turned back toward the valley. They flew as fast as they could, but a trail of turret fire peppered their retreat. Each ship sustained heavy damage to its stern by the time it was out of range of the Gartolian weapons.

  Loras' ship was the last to join the fleet. It sputtered and landed at an awkward angle, throwing Loras and two other Reytana over the side. Once again, the air was knocked from Loras' lungs. He wheezed and clutched his chest. Two strong arms then grabbed Loras and lifted him off of his feet. He turned to the Reytana, expecting it to be Gracien, but it was not. It was the helmsman.

  No sooner had the helmsman assisted Loras than he was rushing off to help someone else. Loras watched him run into the chaos of burning ships and injured Reytana. He squinted his eyes, trying to take in the scene, but it was just too hard to believe. The sense of optimism that had filled his heart just minutes ago was now replaced by cold despair. Had they lost the fight already? It can't be over so soon. It can't! Loras looked around. He had to find Gracien. The captain would know what to do.

  When Regan regained consciousness, she immediately noticed two things; the first was an overwhelming smell of charred wood and metal. The second was an excruciating pain in her forehead. The pain was so bad that Regan was afraid to open her eyes, for fear that the daylight might make her head hurt even more. Instead, she laid on her back with her eyes closed and listened.

  The crackling of burning wood was all around her. Every now and then she heard the moan of collapsing metal. Acrid smoke filled her lungs, making it difficult to breathe. She coughed and rolled onto her side. She realized that she couldn’t shut her eyes forever so she decided to open them, despite the pain that it might cause.

  Regan slowly opened her right eye. Much to her relief, the pain in her head remained steady. At first, everything was brown and blurry. Then it started to come into focus. A heap of broken wood and metal, all that remained of her hovercraft, lay smoldering only a few feet away. Behind that, all Regan could see were trees.

  She spun around to try to get her bearings and almost slammed into two large, black boots topped with metallic shin plates. Regan froze. Just beyond the legs in front of her, she spied the cages that had held the Gartune prisoners. Their doors were torn open. Regan was too scared to look up at the Gartune in front of her. But when an olive-skinned hand reached down to help her up, her fear subsided. She took the hand in hers and allowed herself to be pulled up to her feet. The grinning face that met hers was not the one that she expected to see.

  "Well look what we have here," sneered Belkore. "My, my, my... that's one nasty scratch you've got on your head there. Why don't you let me take a look at it?" His grin widened as he lifted his hands toward Regan's head. Instinctively, she leapt backward out of his reach. The strength of her jump surprised her, and she flew several feet off of the ground and landed only steps away from the fiery rubble behind her. Belkore's grin transformed into a snarl as he began to stalk his prey. "That's fine with me," he said. "More fun this way."

  Regan frantically looked from side to side, searching for any of the other Reytana that had been aboard her ship, but no one was to be found. Belkore lau
ghed. "Look all you want. There ain't no one here but you and me." Then a voice came from behind Belkore.

  "You never were one for a fair fight, were you, Belk?"

  Belkore looked to the side, but he did not turn around. "I was wondering if you had survived the crash," he shouted over his shoulder. "I was going to go looking for you, but I found something more interesting instead." He turned his eyes back to Regan. They were the eyes of an animal.

  "You hurt my feelings, old friend. But no matter. I'm here now. Why don't you and I take this fine opportunity and see if we can't rejoin the rest of our brethren? I'm sure my father will just be overjoyed to see us. Well, you anyway. He probably hopes I was killed. In fact –n new plan! You go, and I'll stay here. What do you say?"

  "Oh, I'm going," replied Belkore, closing the distance between himself and Regan, "but I'm taking a prize with me."

  "I'm afraid I can't let you do that, old friend."

  "Oh, and you think you can stop me, coward?" sneered Belkore.

  "He's braver than two of you!" replied Regan as she slowly made her way toward Xander.

  "Is that so?" said Belkore. "Let me ask you something. Did he ever tell you how his brother really died? Or is he still going with that 'hit by a hovercraft cannon' story?"

  Regan looked at Xander. The mirth had left his face completely. He stared hard at Belkore but said nothing.

  "He hasn't? Oh, well allow me to tell you what really happened. It's much more enlightening."

  "Choose your next words carefully, old friend..." said Xander in a cool tone.

  "So, there's little Xan," continued Belkore, apparently ignoring Xander's warning. "And he's assigned as big brother Lex's steward during the battle. A steward has several jobs – he carries the Gartune's gear, sends messages, and most importantly, he cleans up the Gartune's victims."

  "Cleans up?" asked Regan with a quivering voice. She had stopped advancing toward Xander and instead remained frozen to her spot, unsure of what to do next.