The Stars of Areon (The Chronicles of Areon Book 1)

by Aaron J. Ethridge

  “I just wanted you to know how I felt,” the rogue grinned before unshouldering his crossbow and quickly cocking it.

  In reply, the fair ranger only nodded, a slight smile spreading across her blushing face as she prepared her own weapon.

  The warrior placed the knight facing those riders that were approaching from the woods.

  “Darian, you may have to break a charge of twenty,” he said grimly. “I'll be dealing with fifty on the other side.”

  “The Eilian's will be done,” the bold knight replied, readying his sword and shield.

  “Indeed,” Tealor nodded.

  Gwendolyn stood a short distance behind the Telian, watching the band of men racing across the field toward the party.

  “What will you do?” she almost whispered.

  “Well, when they get close enough, I'm going to charge them,” he replied confidently.

  “What?!” she exclaimed. “On foot?”

  “Well, they won't expect it,” he answered. “The Eilian will make me as strong as a horse, so I figure I'll have a fair chance.”

  “Darian, that's crazy!” she replied.

  “Do you have a better plan?” he chuckled.

  In reply, the maiden only shook her head slowly back and forth.

  As the warrior strode past the bard, who stood readying his bagpipes, Ian gave him a word of encouragement.

  “Don't worry, my friend,” he smiled. “I've overcome even greater odds!”

  “Have you really?” Tealor asked, a hint of wonder in his voice.

  “Nope!” Ian smiled, raising his instrument to his lips.

  The warrior laughed and slapped the dwarf on the back before stepping over to his wife to discuss strategy.

  “My love, I think I can break the initial charge,” the sorceress said, staring at their oncoming enemies.

  “Are you certain, dearest?” he asked.

  “I am,” she replied.

  “From which side?”

  “First one,” she smiled. “Then, the other.”

  “The fifty first, I think,” Tealor said, pointing toward their charging ranks.

  “I agree,” she nodded.

  “Well, then,” he said. “I'll take up my position beside the Telian just in case you run out of time.”

  “That would be wise.”

  “Well, joy of my heart,” he said, taking his wife by the hand. “If we don't make it...”

  “Here, or in the halls of Kaldor,” she replied, gazing into her husband’s dark eyes. “What difference does it make, my beloved, as long as we're together.”

  “True!” the warrior said, quickly kissing his bride before taking up his position at the side of the young knight.

  “I thought you were going to break the other charge,” the Telian observed.

  “I was,” he replied. “But, my wife said you would need my help more than she would.”

  “Well, I guess she knows best,” the knight observed.

  “That's often the case,” the warrior agreed.

  The gathering clouds had covered the field in shadow as the little band prepared to face the oncoming tide of their enemies. Tears fell silently from Gwendolyn's face; not in fear of her probable fate, but in sorrow for the friends that surrounded her. She wished she had never been rescued, that she had never met these allies she seemed destined to lose. Her heart swelled as she begged the Eilian in silent prayers to let her share the fate of her companions – whatever it might be. In truth, the maiden would have preferred death to seeing these people, who she had come to know and love, struck down before her very eyes. Then, to be taken captive by the man who was the cause of it all... No! It was more than she could bear. She set her teeth as the drumming of the horses' hoofs began to fill the air. They would have no choice but to kill her; she would never surrender.

  At some point, Ian had started to play the pipes, but Gwendolyn couldn't have said just when. It seemed, somehow, as if he had been playing them since the day of her birth. The notes that so quickly flew from his fingers told a wordless tale of battle, victory, defeat and the honor of a warrior's death. The beautiful young girl stepped quickly over to the dwarvish bard and drew one of the daggers hanging from his side. If need be, she would submit to death but, not without a fight. As she dashed to the knight's side, she wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. There was no need to weep; she would die alongside her friends, and they alongside her.

  As the two groups of riders closed on the party, Sarena chanted loudly while moving her arms slowly before her. Fire covered her hands and ran up her arms as she spoke of the consuming flames and her enemies’ destruction. At last, she threw her outstretched hands toward the larger group of their foes and a ball of flame sped quickly across the field to meet them. An explosion followed that scattered the riders and left three lifeless on the field. The ranger and the rogue took advantage of the confusion and each struck another foe from the saddle. Erana thanked the Eilian that, with the charge already broken, there was no need to target innocent animals. While the scattered riders did their best to rein in their wildly running mounts, Sarena turned her attention to the second band.

  The warrior and the knight prepared to face the oncoming flood as the sorceress stood behind them; once again beginning her chant. Gwendolyn prepared herself for whatever might happen with no more idea of what to do than to try to stab anyone who attacked her allies. Once again, Kilren and Erana readied their weapons and Rragor took up his position by the ranger's side as the other group of horseman grew nearer and nearer. As Darian gazed ahead, a break in the clouds wrapped the foremost rider in sunlight. He unfurled a banner from the top of his lance that caused the Telian to shout with joy and relief.

  “It's Daegon!” he cried. “These are Andor's men!”

  The sorceress turned, releasing another ball of fire toward the ranks of those enemies she had already scattered. Once more, an explosion rent the air, though only one of their foes was struck down.

  “That was a waste!” Kilren shouted as he let fly a bolt that missed its mark, bouncing harmlessly off his target's armor.

  The elvish maiden had better luck, however, and another of their enemies fell to rise no more.

  “Well, I didn't have time to aim!” Sarena yelled in reply. “I can't stop it once I've gone that far, and I thought it best not to kill our allies.”

  “Good point!” the rogue admitted.

  The twenty riders led by Daegon flew past the party and charged headlong into their scattered foes. The valiant band was outnumbered more than two to one and, as they continued their charge, Valrak's men quickly forced their mounts to obey them once again. At first, the tightly packed group dashed through the enemy ranks knocking one opponent after another from the saddle. However, at last, they were met with a charge equal in formation and greater in number. Daegon, alone, felled his enemy while several of his men were brought to the ground. The old soldier had hoped, rather than expected, that the riders would turn and face him in another charge. They didn't.

  Valrak's men were driven by one goal, by one idea alone: take the girl. More than thirty of the original fifty streaked across the field toward the maiden and her allies. Once again, Sarena lashed out at her enemies but, this time, they were ready for her. The riders scattered as the deadly projectile flew from her hands; only two were enveloped in the sorceress' devastating flames.

  “I can't do that again!” Sarena panted.

  “You did enough, my love!” the warrior assured her, taking up a position at the front of the party.

  Although their charging enemies had spread themselves out to avoid the fiery death offered by the sorceress, they now tightened their ranks as they neared the party. They surrounded the heroes; pushing in from all sides in one united attack. Again, the bows of the elf and the rogue sang out. Two more of their foes felt the cold embrace of death. Those riders that would have charged on toward the pair were brought to a halt as their mounts refused to approach the bared te
eth of the giant wolf standing at the elvish maiden's side.

  Two, however, disregarded the beast's warning. They climbed from their saddles, charging the bold archers on foot. Immediately, Rragor sprang to his allies’ defense. He swiftly knocked the first attacker from his feet before sinking his fangs into the unfortunate mercenary. As his companion lay struggling under the massive animal, the second attacker raised his sword above his head. The villain dropped the blade with all his strength just as the powerful beast leapt from his victim. The blow intended to kill the fearsome creature, instead brought the struggles of his ally to an end. The soldier turned to face the outraged wolf; his companion unconscious at his feet.

  One of the more valiant of the mercenary soldiers streaked ahead of his allies, aiming his lance at Tealor's very heart. However, before the blow could land, the warrior stepped to the side, deflecting his enemy's weapon with his shield while thrusting his own blade through the chest of his foe. In one fluid motion, he jerked his sword from the dying man's body, spun around, and seized the reins with his shield hand. In a moment more, the lifeless mercenary was dragged from the saddle. The warrior leapt onto the animal's back, deflecting countless blows as he prepared to press his own attack.

  The knight, however, did not fare as well. Four of Valrak's soldiers had ridden completely around the party. As they charged up the hill behind the band, the Telian charged down. The strength of the Eilian coursed through his body as he ran headlong toward his oncoming foes. He knew he had to stop them however he could; he would not allow them to flank his allies. The foremost of the mercenaries leveled his lance at the young knight; striking him squarely on the shield, splintering the shaft under the force of the attack. Darian shifted his weight, slamming into the charging horse with all his strength. At that moment, the young Telian truly was as strong as the beast he assaulted and his attack brought the animal to a complete stop. However, the young knight had neither the weight nor the additional legs of his equestrian opponent. As a result, he was knocked heavily to the ground. The rider of the stunned beast leapt from the saddle, threw down the splintered shaft he held, and drew his sword as his three allies carefully closed the distance separating them from their prey. Their charge might have continued but for the sight of the fair young maiden flying down the hill with a dagger in her hand, rushing to aid the fallen hero.

  Sarena thanked both the Eilian and her husband for the quality of her armor. More than once, the invisible links covering her body had saved her from destruction. As the lance of one of their charging foes struck her in the side, she felt her ribs shatter. Still, there was time. She wouldn't bleed to death before her husband had slain their enemies. After that was done, the healing hands of the Telian or the mystical music of the bard would save her. If not, she would wait for her love beyond the grave. The pain was almost overwhelming but, before she surrendered to the darkness enveloping her, she would repay her enemy in kind. With a shriek, she stretched out her hands; flames enveloped horse and rider alike. The beast veered, fleeing from the field still carrying the charred remains of its former master on its back. With a gentle smile, the sorceress lay down on the grass and passed quietly from consciousness.

  It might have gone ill with the party had Daegon and his followers not been riding at the very heels of their foes. However, before this first assault was even complete, Andor's men were upon their enemies. The battle became a general melee as the two groups collided in furious rage.

  Several of Valrak's men positioned themselves to separate the knight and the maiden from the rest of their companions. Two of the mercenaries they faced slid from the saddle. They attempted to surround the girl as their sword wielding companion slowly approached the prone, and apparently unconscious, Telian. As the mercenary lifted his sword above his head, Darian's blade sliced through his leg and knocked him to the ground. Instantly, the Telian rolled over and leapt to his feet.

  As soon as the sorceress had fallen, the bard had cast away his pipes and the warrior moved his horse into position to protect her body. Sweat poured from Tealor's brow; not due to physical exertion, but for fear of his love. The dwarf knelt by the beautiful lady's side, singing gently in her ear. She took a deep breath before opening her eyes. The first sight to meet her gaze was the face of her husband staring down at her – and the raised blade of an enemy behind him. Her scream was enough to alert him of the danger. He dodged to the side in a flash, reducing a potentially fatal wound to nothing more than a minor cut down his sword arm. A moment later, fire flew from the sorceress's hands as the sword of the warrior lashed out at his foe. Both attacks fell on the same hapless opponent who passed quickly – and silently – from one world to the other.

  With careful steps, the mercenary approached the lowly growling Rragor. Each watched the other, waiting for the opportunity to spring. At last, the wolf leapt as the soldier thrust his sword at his oncoming enemy. The blade missed its mark, but the beast's fangs found their target. In a matter of moments, the hapless soldier had ceased to struggle and lay on the field unconscious.

  The single soldier who remained on his mount while facing the knight and the maiden lowered his lance, hoping to drive it through the back of the Telian as he flew to Gwendolyn's aid. However, both a bolt and an arrow passed through his body; bringing his charge – and his life – to an end at the same moment.

  “That one was probably alright!” Kilren yelled above the din.

  “I agree!” Erana replied. “Better to waste an arrow than to lose our knight!”

  Completely unaware that his life had just been saved by his allies, the bold Telian rushed at his two standing opponents. They turned their attention from the maiden and raced to meet his assault. The three clashed seconds later in a whirlwind of blades. One of the mercenaries was far more skilled than the other. Darian quickly realized he was matched in both strength and ability by this single foe. With the help of his companion, the knight's fierce enemy drove him back step by step. The third living member of this assault slowly rose to his feet and limped toward the young Telian; hatred burning in his eyes. If it were in his power, he would kill the young Telian yet.

  Valrak's men succeeded in severing the pair from all aid. It seemed as though the knight would have to face his enemies alone. Even the bows of the ranger and the rogue could offer no assistance as they fired arrow after bolt into the melee, doing their best to drive back their surrounding enemies. The three mercenaries knew time was of the essence. As the wounded soldier and his skilled captain pressed their attack against the valiant knight, the third turned his attention to the girl.

  The fair young maiden had continued her charge, however, and was quickly approaching the back of her would-be attacker. She had determined that, although she might die, she would never surrender. As the mercenary spun around to seek her, he found her standing right in front of him. He stood for an instant; surprised and motionless. Gwendolyn took advantage of the moment and thrust her dagger into the soldier's gut with all the strength she could muster.

  The mercenary bellowed in rage as he seized the maiden by the wrist. This sound distracted the limping soldier for a moment. As his gaze shifted to his yelling companion, the sword of the Telian passed through his body. With a quiet sigh, his life was ended. Before his dying opponent had hit the ground, the knight again turned his full attention to the fierce captain. Sparks flew from their clashing blades as each hoped to shortly bring the life of the other to an end.

  As these two warriors faced one another, the mercenary bent on capturing Gwendolyn tore her hand away from his stomach. His armor was well made. The maiden's attack had done nothing more than anger him. He stood holding her wrist in a vice-like grip, a smile on his wicked face.

  “Come with me, my darlin’,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “Never!” the maiden screamed, slapping his face with her free hand.

  The soldier threw down his sword in rage and grabbed her by the other wrist.

  “When all this is
over, I'm going to teach you some respect,” he yelled.

  This was a lesson he was never able to offer. Seeing Gwendolyn in such distress, the knight was determined to do what he could to help her. As the villain stretched out his arms, drawing the maiden toward his chest, the knight blocked a blow from his opponent, spun around him, and raised his sword; striking the mercenary in the neck with all his strength.

  The maiden screamed as the lifeless – and headless – form of her attacker tottered to the ground. Her shock, however, was short lived and she quickly rushed to the Telian’s aid. As the knight and his foe circled one another, she thrust her dagger into the back of the mercenary captain. Although his armor saved his life, the assault proved effective.

  The warrior they faced was an old soldier who had survived many fearsome conflicts. He knew well that, once the battle was lost, it was best to stop fighting. There was no way he could face the knight alone while, at the same time, keeping this impudent girl from trying to stab him at every opportunity. Although he felt certain he had nothing to fear from her attacks, it was only a matter of time before he tripped over her or accidentally killed her – either of which would end his life in very short order. Valrak paid well, but not well enough to die for. As the captain glanced over the battlefield, he realized all was over. Their advantage in numbers – which was their only hope of victory against such skilled and determined foes – was lost. With a sigh, he threw his sword at the Telian's head before stepping to the side and avoiding one the knight's fearsome swings. In the span of a moment, he had reached his horse and mounted. He rode past the party, commanding his men to retreat. Those that could, did so without hesitation. Seconds later, the battle was over.

  “Are you alright?” the valiant knight asked with a smile.

  “I am,” Gwendolyn nodded. “And you?”

  “Never better,” he laughed.

  The Telian quickly cleaned his blade and returned it to its sheath before offering his hand to the maiden. She graciously accepted it and the pair moved quickly to the top of the hill.