Black Scarlet

by R A Oakes

  “What’s the matter?” Crystal asked, not liking that Chen had pulled away.

  “I’m not going to rescue Dylancia only to turn her over to you at some future date. It’s bad enough that I have to deal with you and that you’re a major source of my own power, but I want a better life for my daughter.”

  Turning to Andrina, the black leather panther said, “We’re going to have to do this on our own.”

  “Just say the word, and I’ll bring you General Zarkahn’s head on a spike.”

  Led by Gwendylln, Chen’s warrior women now began pouring into the great hall. Bristling with restless energy and eager for action, they awaited her command.

  “Let’s go get my baby!” she said wearing a hawk-like, predatory look her warrior women loved. Then, as she strode out of the great hall, she shouted to Andrina, “Bring Crystal along just in case we have no other choice.”

  One way or another, Chen would save Dylancia, even if it meant sacrificing herself. However, inviting her own destruction wasn’t a problem for Chen. That road had been wide open for years. Sometimes, it seemed like it would be a relief to abandon herself to her own demise. But before she drew her last breath, the warrior woman was determined to hold Dylancia once more in her arms.

  General Zarkahn had way underestimated a mother’s wrath. Beyond insanity would have described Chen’s mood.

  A little while ago, Aerylln had said she wanted to help, but now the young woman lingered and remained behind. Looking at Baelfire, she said, “I was going to go upstairs and visit Dylancia before coming to the great hall, and I don’t know why I didn’t. If I had, we would have been in the nursery and could have prevented all of this.”

  “Don’t second-guess yourself,” Baelfire said gently.

  “What good is having power if I’m not around when it’s needed?”

  “I never said we were all-powerful, Aerylln. Even when the Trinity of Light is in full force, it can’t do everything.”

  “You sound like my father. He wasn’t able to protect me, so he abandoned me. He left me at Mistress Xan’s castle for years. Now, you’re telling me that we can’t even protect those closest to us. What are we going to do? Turn our backs on our friends like my father turned his back on me?”

  “Your father didn’t abandon you, Aerylln. He left you in the care of a powerful sorceress. Mistress Xan is a legend in her own right,” Baelfire pointed out.

  “I won’t be someone who has good excuses for not being there when needed. I want more in my life than acceptable reasons for failure.”

  “Your father didn’t fail you, Aerylln. You’re here, and you’re alive. He accomplished his task. He kept you safe.”

  “And how did he do that? By making me live like an orphan! He wouldn’t even let you, Zorya and me be together. My father didn’t want me as his daughter, and he wouldn’t let my friends have me either. He took the easy way out.”

  “No, that’s not true. Staying away wasn’t easy for him. And putting you, Zorya and me together before you came of age would have invited disaster.”

  “I would rather have faced disaster together with my father than live as I did, safe but alone.”

  Baelfire held her peace and remained silent.

  “Let’s go get Zorya,” Aerylln said.

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m going after Dylancia. My father didn’t come to me when I needed him, but I’m not making the same mistake in my own life. I’m going after her.”

  “But Dylancia’s not your baby. Your father will go after her. It’s his duty.”

  “Why will he ride after her when he ignored me for years?”

  “Lord Pensgraft has no other choice. You were safe at Mistress Xan’s castle, but Dylancia is being held prisoner.”

  “He loves her more than me,” Aerylln said.

  “That’s why he’ll go. He loves his wife and his new daughter more than he ever loved me.”

  “That’s not true either. I witnessed his anguish, and he wanted to come to you.”

  “My father wanted to come to me, and didn’t. But he’s actually going to Dylancia. I don’t know about you, but when a man can’t keep himself away from his wife and child, that sounds like love to me.”

  Baelfire didn’t know what to say.

  “I’m going to show my father that I’m as valuable as Dylancia. I was worth his time when I was growing up. I have value as a daughter. I’m going to show him what I can do.”

  “And what’s that?” Baelfire asked as she held her breath. The good sword knew that young people could be unpredictable and rash, but it was a long time since she or Zorya had any personal experience dealing with teenage girls. They were about to get some.

  “You, Zorya and I are leaving Skybrook Castle before Chen and her warriors head out.”

  “They’re leaving now.”

  “They have to saddle their horses. I have a magic horse who can saddle herself.”

  “But she’s not here.”

  “Nice try. But as you and Zorya have taught me, the physical world can’t stop the Creative Light’s energy.”

  “Maybe we’re wrong.”

  “I don’t think so,” Aerylln laughed.

  With that, the young woman dropped down inside her inner self, her spirit flying along beneath the physical world. Physical reality went only so deep, and she went deeper, much like a swimmer traveling underwater unseen and then resurfacing farther downriver. Just so, Aerylln’s spirit swam beneath the physical world and reached out to Zorya.

  Outside the castle walls, the magic horse was grazing in an open field when Aerylln seemingly materialized right in front of her.

  “We’re going to Firecrest Castle.”

  “Why?” Zorya asked.

  “General Zarkahn kidnapped Genevieve and Dylancia. We’re going to get them back.”

  Though shocked by the news, Zorya quickly regained her balance. “We’re all going together, aren’t we? We’ll travel with Chen and your father, right?”

  “Wrong.”

  “What does Baelfire say about this?”

  “Why don’t you ask her?”

  With that, Zorya felt enormous energy building up inside of her. Next, the magic horse started glowing, and rays of prism light began shooting out of the jewels in her necklace. In a blaze of purple, blue, green, yellow, orange and red, she launched herself into the air and literally flew at the speed of light through an open window into the castle’s great hall.

  When the magic horse saw that Aerylln’s physical body was actually in the great hall, not outside in the field where she’d just seen her, Zorya realized the young woman was graduating to a whole new level of ability.

  Completely motionless, Aerylln was standing with her eyes closed in a quiet, meditative state. The powerful warhorse went up to the young woman and nuzzled her cheek.

  “Hi,” Aerylln said as she opened her eyes and smiled.

  “Doing a little subterranean traveling?” Zorya asked.

  “Fun, isn’t it?”

  “It’s more than fun, young lady. If you hadn’t resurfaced properly, your spirit could have been trapped.”

  “Well, that didn’t happen. Anyway, why didn’t you tell me I could do that?”

  “Because I wasn’t sure if you could.”

  “I can.”

  “Apparently so.”

  Leaping onto Zorya’s back, Aerylln said, “Let’s go to Firecrest Castle.”

  “Maybe we should talk about this.”

  “There’s no need to talk about it.”

  “Why not?” Zorya asked.

  “Because I’m the boss of this outfit.”

  “Are you trying to pull rank on us, young lady? We’re 500-years-older than you and have had a variety of women masters. It might be wise to listen to our counsel,” Zorya said.

  “And that is?”

  “Wait for Lord Pensgraft and Chen.”

  “Okay, you’ve had your say. Now we’re leaving.”

  “What
if we refuse?” Baelfire asked.

  “I’ll go without you, but I’ll probably get killed, and then my death will be on your consciences.”

  “Either way, whether we go with you or not, your death would be on our consciences,” Zorya said.

  “Yes, but if you come along, you’ll have a chance to protect me. If you stay behind, you won’t be able to help at all.”

  “She’s got us checkmated,” Baelfire said in resignation.

  “Aerylln, sometimes you’re too smart for your own

  good,” Zorya sighed.

  “Hang on, we’re going for a ride,” she said enthusiastically.

  Baelfire whispered psychically and privately to Zorya, “Sometimes raising a teenager is like shooting downhill in a wagon with no brakes.”

  “God have mercy on our souls,” Zorya sighed once

  more.

  Aerylln braced herself, as purple, blue, green, yellow, orange and red sparks filled the air. Then, suddenly, streams of intense prism light poured out of Aerylln, encircling them and flowing into the other two members of the Trinity.

  Through the radiant light, Aerylln saw Lord Pensgraft running towards them and heard him shouting, “Aerylln, please don’t do this. Wait for the rest of us to come with you. You don’t have all that much practical experience with the Trinity. Things can go wrong. Seriously wrong!”

  “You should trust me more, and you shouldn’t have abandoned me for all those years.”

  Upon hearing his daughter’s rebuke, Lord Pensgraft felt as if he’d just been stabbed in the chest with a sharp sword. His heart ached like never before, and he said, “I’m sorry, Aerylln. When I left you at Mistress Xan’s, I was young, and I made a mistake. I’m sorry!”

  Aerylln gave her father a stern look and said, “Too little, too late.”

  With that, she nudged Zorya’s sides with her heels, and countless beams of prism light burst out of Baelfire, Zorya and the teenage girl. There was a sound like a clap of thunder, and they shot out through a castle window leaving a devastated Lord Pensgraft in their wake.

  Chapter 22

  King Tarlen’s ranch. The same night, shortly before Genevieve and Dylancia were kidnapped.

  Three hundred charnuks stomped the ground restlessly as their gargoyle riders looked to Zenaruka, Swarenth’s nephew, waiting for the command to attack. One hundred of Lord Ridgewood’s cutthroats were also present and fought hard to restrain their horses that were as eager for action as they were. The old pirate’s men looked to Zenaruka as well and were eager for permission to burn this ranch to the ground.

  Thirty of the men had just finished unloading dozens of bales of hay from a wagon and were now tying one end of a long rope around each bale. After remounting their horses, each of these men took the other end of one of the ropes and tied it to the pommel of his saddle. When that was accomplished, a gargoyle crew drove up with another wagon carrying several barrels of flammable oil. The gruesome, winged apes filled their buckets to the brim and began dumping oil onto the hay bales.

  Zenaruka rode over to the wagon and said, “Really soak them good. When we slam them up against the ranch buildings, I want flammable oil spewing everywhere. Let’s turn that ranch into one huge bonfire.”

  “Later, maybe we can roast some of their horses for a feast,” one gargoyle said licking his lips and smiling, though it looked more like a hideous grimace.

  “That’s fine, but not here. You can take all the horses you want back to Firecrest Castle and feast on them there. If all’s going as planned, General Zarkahn will be taking Genevieve prisoner right about now. So, let’s burn the ranch, kill Tarlen and head out of here as quickly as we can,” Zenaruka said.

  So far, Zenaruka and his troops were lucky and had gone undetected. A gargoyle scout who’d just returned from observing the ranch said, “There’s no sign of anyone anywhere. And I’m not sure, but it looks like one of the side-entrance gates is open a crack. It might be unlocked.”

  One of Lord Ridgewood’s land pirates spoke up and said, “Tarlen’s warriors now spend a lot of time at Skybrook Castle. It’s possible the king isn’t even at the ranch.”

  “No, I saw him ride in earlier with a few of his men, but the place does look almost deserted,” the scout informed them. “Only 50 warhorses are left in the corrals. Over the last few days, I’ve seen Tarlen’s men move about 150 closer to Skybrook Castle. It looks like they’re shutting the place down.”

  “So what’s Tarlen doing here?” one gargoyle asked.

  “Why wouldn’t he be here? No one’s ever bothered him before. The last thing he expects is a raid on his ranch. And the way all his men have been parading around in their green tunics, you’d think they haven’t a care in the world,” the scout said.

  “Well, they soon won’t. Dead men have no worries,” a gargoyle said quietly as he dumped another bucket of flammable oil onto a hay bale.

  Once all the hay bales were soaked and ready, Zenaruka rode back from the wagon to speak to his troops. Everyone turned to listen to what he had to say, not out of respect but because General Zarkahn and Valkira had told them to obey the young gargoyle, or else.

  However, both the gargoyles and the humans had little confidence in him. This was Zenaruka’s first military campaign. Earlier, a gargoyle had sneered and said, “Let’s see if he rides out in front or goes last. I’ll bet the young whelp hasn’t the stomach for a real fight. Watch, you’ll see, he’ll lag behind.”

  Yet when Zenaruka began speaking, his voice sounded surprisingly authoritative and firm. “I want a gargoyle warrior to sneak over to the ranch on foot. Test the side gate. If it’s unlocked, pull it wide open. That’ll be our signal to advance.”

  “If it’s going to be this easy, let’s try to take Tarlen alive,” one man suggested.

  “No, that’s not necessary,” Zenaruka said. “Our first objective, and only objective, is to kill him. Don’t mess this up. If we fail, my uncle will destroy us all, and it won’t be a pleasant death, I can assure you.”

  The gargoyles shifted nervously in their saddles. All were well aware of Swarenth’s penchant for cruelty.

  An army of 400 gargoyles and humans watched silently in the moonlight as a winged ape made his way on foot towards the side entrance. When the gate swung wide open, all the warriors smiled.

  “Don’t charge yet,” Zenaruka cautioned them. “We want to maintain the element of surprise. Let’s move in slowly and don’t set fire to the bales of hay just yet. Wait until Tarlen’s warhorses in the corrals pick up our scent and start to whinny. That’s when we’ll cut loose.”

  Several experienced senior commanders, whom Swarenth had sent along to keep an eye on things, were impressed with Zenaruka’s calm judgment. “He’s not as dumb as he looks,” one whispered.

  “Yes, but relying too much on tactics and strategy is a sign of weakness. The best weapons of war are brute force and mindless savagery. Humans have a hard time accepting senseless destruction. They want violence to be linked to a sense of purpose. Rob them of all rational reason for war, and they’ll fall apart and collapse in a heap. If Zenaruka’s too inexperienced to take full advantage of human weaknesses, he’ll never be an effective leader,” another senior commander cautioned them.

  “Even though Zenaruka’s inexperienced, he’s still one of us. He’ll want his pound of flesh. It’s in his blood,” the first one responded.

  “And what if it’s not?”

  “We’ll relieve him of command.”

  “How?”

  “We’ll assassinate him.”

  With that, the senior commanders fell silent. After the army got within a few hundred yards of the ranch buildings, Tarlen’s warhorses picked up their scent and became restless. Zenaruka stood up in his stirrups shouted, “Charge!” and hundreds of enemy Charnuks and warhorses sprang forward.

  Thirty of Lord Ridgewood’s men dismounted first and lit their bales of hay. Next, each rider galloped forward, picking his spot and swinging in a wide
arc before pulling up sharp, snapping his bale of hay against the ranch buildings like the crack of a whip.

  Swarenth’s nephew showed surprising bravery. He wasn’t the first to ride through the entrance, but he was near the front.

  “Search the buildings!” Zenaruka shouted. “Find Tarlen and kill him!”

  Fifty gargoyles ran into the various barracks only to make a surprising discovery. “My lord, all the buildings are empty,” one warrior reported.

  “I saw Tarlen and some of his men enter earlier this evening. They’re here somewhere,” the gargoyle scout insisted.

  “But where could they be?” Zenaruka asked.

  As if in answer, the ground outside the entrance suddenly collapsed revealing a square pit 20-feet-wide, 20-feet- long and 10-feet-deep. “We’re trapped!” a winged ape shouted.

  Just minutes before, King Tarlen and his men had all gone underneath the compound through cleverly concealed trap doors leading to a series of underground tunnels. After making their way to an earthen chamber, the warriors had listened eagerly to their master’s orders and sprang into action.

  A dozen of them had poured into a passageway leading to a large room hollowed out directly below the side entrance. After attaching ropes to beams supporting the dirt ceiling, they had headed back into the safety of the connecting tunnel. There they pulled the ropes taut, gave a mighty yank and smiled as the two-foot-thick roof of rock and dirt came crashing down.

  Back above ground, the two-story barracks and stable that surrounded three sides of the compound were already going up in flames. But there was no wall or building of any sort across the front side. It was protected only by a “watering trough,” which in reality was a wide moat.

  Visitors to the ranch had often wondered why one side had been left wide open and seemingly unprotected. You could actually stand by the corrals and look over the moat right into the three-sided compound. It was like a fort with one entire wall missing, and it had made no sense until now.

  After King Tarlen gave his warriors their orders, 60 of his men had gone racing through another tunnel that brought them outside a few feet to the left of the moat. And there they waited. Eventually, the heat from the fire would drive Lord Ridgewood’s cutthroats and the gargoyles out the only exit available, right into the withering fire of King Tarlen’s archers. It was night, and the flames made the enemy easy to see, which turned them into perfect targets. All along, King Tarlen had wanted the enemy warriors to enter his compound. It was one big trap, built to keep them in, not out.