by Toni Cox
The Commander made some quick calculations in his head, but Maia saw the defeat in his eyes even before he said it. “I am sorry, My Princess, even if they fly as fast as they can, they would not make it. The Werewolves are quick and they have a big lead. I think it might be best if you fly ahead and delay them until we manage to catch up. It will be dangerous, but I don’t see another way. Do you think you can do it?”
He looked at her with hope and regret in his eyes.
“Midnight will catch up with them before they reach the forest, of that I am sure. I will delay them with fire for as long as I can, even if I have to burn the forest.”
Commander Hollowdale looked into her determined eyes and gave her a wry smile. “Be careful, My Lady. Stay out of reach of their arrows. Stall them.”
“Please, call me Maia, I consider you my friend. And I will be careful. You can count on me.”
“Then call me Evan and I consider it an honour to be your friend. May the Mother fly with you.”
Midnight surged forward, his great black wings propelling him at incredible speed. Maia ducked low over his neck, squinting at the wind rushing into her face. Before she was too far away, she still felt the dragons behind her muster their reserves and put on a new burst of speed. Evan would be true to his word and catch up with her as soon as they could.
“Midnight,” she whispered into his hide, “I am scared.”
She didn’t have to tell him, he already knew how she felt, but it made her feel better telling him and it bolstered her confidence to know that he was aware of her fear. He sent her his strength in his thoughts and his assurance that The Vile would not escape. It had taken Maia all morning to figure out a name for what Midnight called the Werewolves. The Vile was the closest she got to the feelings he had for them. To Midnight, they were nothing more than mutated, mutilated and tortured creatures, with minds so twisted that there was no hope for them ever to lead a normal life. The Vampyres had seen to that.
Maia looked up and squinted into the wind. She was not surprised to see how close the forest was. Nothing could rival Midnight’s speed in flight. Down below, just another half a mile ahead, she could now make out the horde racing toward the forest. As they got closer, Maia noticed something strange.
“These are larger,” she said more to herself than Midnight, but he responded by letting her see through his eyes and she could now clearly see the differences between these Werewolves and Vampyres to those they fought this morning. The animals were taller, well-muscled all round and had a groomed and cared for appearance. The Vampyres were taller, with more noble features, and their dress bespoke of someone of higher rank.
These must be Generals, or Commanders, Maia thought, and she didn’t like the implications.
There was no time to think about it. They had now caught up and Midnight flew high to overtake them. Maia heard the shouts from below, but a sudden urge to protect what was dear to her brought on a battle rage that made her shout back at them.
Screaming, she made Midnight swoop down low and spray a long line of fire along the dry grass in front of them. Tall flames licked up into the sky, momentarily blocking the way to the forest. The early autumn grass was burned up quickly and, with shouting and whipping, the Vampyres urged their mounts through the dying flames.
Maia cursed and made another pass. This time, she asked Midnight to concentrate his fire on the Werewolves. He stayed just out of range of the arrows and unleashed a torrent of flame which engulfed the group below for a moment, unnerving the Werewolves. But they were too high, the fire had little effect, and although she noticed some Vampyres patting out some smouldering fur, they carried on toward the forest undeterred.
Again and again they flew overhead, each time showering the Vampyres and their mounts in flame, but each time they carried on as if it meant nothing to them. Frustrated, she asked Midnight to fly lower. He rumbled his agreement, as frustrated. The Vampyres had almost reached the forest and it was her last chance to stop them.
They dived dangerously low, approaching the Vampyres from their right. Until now, their arrows had sailed safely underneath Midnight’s belly at every pass, but this time, Maia could hear the slap of each one as it hit Midnight’s leathery skin. An arrow whistled past her ear and she ducked just in time as another flew past. One ripped through the outer, softer, skin of Midnight’s flight membranes and with his roar of pain came a spray of fire so large it engulfed all fifty of the riders below.
Maia held her breath and closed her eyes. When it was safe to open her eyes again, she watched in horror and sick fascination as one of the Werewolves lit up like a fireball and ran, howling, in the opposite direction, unseating its rider in the process. Another Werewolf was also on fire, but his rider managed to put out the flames before the animal succumbed to the pain. Thirteen of the Vampyres had taken damage, throwing down their burned bows, armour and clothes, before remounting and doubling their efforts to reach the forest.
The Vampyre who had lost his mount was hard pressed to keep up with the Werewolves, but Maia was nonetheless astounded by his speed. His efforts came to naught, as Commander Hollowdale swooped in with his dragon and beheaded the fleeing Vampyre with one swift stroke.
Maia turned away from the sight and concentrated on the others, who were now at the tree line. Braving the arrows once again, Midnight flew down to them and picked up one of the Werewolves with his rider, all the while spraying fire all around him. While the forest burned and the Werewolves panicked, Midnight rose high into the air before he released his hold on his load and, with a howl and a scream, the enemy plummeted to the ground, smashing into it with a sickening crunch. Both lay still and never moved again.
Maia watched as the Battle Dragons and their warriors fought with the Vampyres at the forest’s edge. Most had already taken refuge within the shelter of the trees and the others were retreating fast. Commander Hollowdale pressed after them, driving the dragons hard, but eventually he had to admit defeat. The forest was simply too dense for the dragons to enter.
They all landed, staring into the dark forest. Maia was surprised to find that it was evening and the sun had already sunken behind the mountain.
“It cannot be helped,” Eyvin, Evan’s second in command, pointed out. “We cannot go in there with the dragons and we dare not go after them on foot, especially not at night.”
“Where do you think they are going?” Maia asked.
“They might just have picked this direction at random, but I don’t think so. This entire attack has been so well planned, I believe they know exactly where they are going and how to get there.”
“Aye, I agree with Eyvin,” Evan said. “There is nothing in this forest for them, but they must know what lies beyond it. They must also know that we cannot or will not follow them into it. They have come here for one thing only and what would be easier to capture than the ones who are too young or old to fight? Tarron Heights is nestled between the cliffs on the other side of the gorge. All that stands between the Vampyres and the city is this forest … and us, if I have anything to do with it.”
Evan remounted his dragon. Everyone followed his example.
“It will take the Vampyres a couple of hours to get through the forest, even if they do not stop and rest. They will have to cross the gorge before they reach the mountain proper and the path to the city. If we fly over the forest, we might be able to reach the clearing ahead of them. It will be full night by then and there is a chance we might miss them, but I cannot see another option right now. If we fly without stopping, we should make it. If we are lucky, they will rest their mounts whilst in the safety of the forest, giving us extra time.”
“But what if they decided to head into a different direction. How can we be sure they are actually heading to Tarron Heights?” Ryndall asked, the other members of the Regiment nodding beside him.
Maia answered, “This section of forest is situated in The Lonely Valley. It is hemmed in to the north by Shadow Peak and its outlyin
g ranges. It is nigh impossible to cross. Even the best Trackers go around it. The Odal Heights form a long barrier to the south, dividing the Grildor-Bron Mountain Range from the Ruby Forest. It takes days to cross. The only possible way is straight through the forest towards the gorge and the valley beyond it. All the women and children are at Tarron Heights, and so are the others from Shadow Hall. Even if their plan is to mislead us and turn back to rejoin the fight, we cannot take the chance of letting them get through to the city. Our only hope is to overtake them and stop them before they cross the gorge.”
“Then let us be away,” Evan said, and patted his dragon on his neck. It rolled its eyes at him and crouched to take flight.
“Wait,” Maia called out before he could lift off.
“What is it, Maia?”
“Did you notice anything strange about these Werewolves and Vampyres? Did they seem larger, different, to you?”
Evan gave it some thought. “Yes, indeed, you are right. But what does it mean?”
“I think that maybe the army we battled this morning was merely their advance guard, their foot soldiers. Although they outnumbered us more than two to one, we managed to beat them within hours of their arrival. They were not as big, strong or well trained as these we fought now. Could it be that they were sent to delay us and that the real charge is still to come? What if, like these fifty we are chasing now, others have been sent to divide our forces so that their main army can come through while we are busy fighting or chasing small regiments? We need to warn my father. Is there someone you can send back with the message?”
Evan did not hesitate. “Aye, My Lady. Gillear, please leave at once and inform our Lord of these developments. Make haste, we do not have a moment to spare.”
Gillear immediately urged his dragon into the air and was soon out of sight.
“We have killed seven of them before they reached the forest. Forty-three are left. Let us be off as well, we have hours to fly before we can land again.”
Midnight rose into the air without hesitation. The Battle Dragons took a little longer to rise high enough to clear the top of the forest.
Evan looked at Maia apologetically. “They are not used to flying at such speeds or altitudes. But they are hardy creatures and they would rather die than give up.”
Maia graced him with one of her smiles. She had no doubt the dragons were a match for the job at hand; Midnight had already conveyed to her the feelings of the other dragons towards what they were chasing. None of them would relent until the very last of them were dead.
They flew east, over the dark forest below. At first, Maia tried to see movement down below, but the canopy of the trees was too thick. Midnight reassured her that the Vampyres were below and she trusted his senses. She kept updating Evan from time to time about anything Midnight reported, but after a time her eyelids grew heavy and she rested her head on Midnight’s neck. His warmth and reassuring rumble eventually eased her into a fitful sleep.
When she opened her eyes again, she was momentarily disorientated. Blackness was all around her and she was reminded of the dream she had after she returned from Earth. She started to panic, but then felt the rhythmic beating of Midnight’s wings. She relaxed and, after a while, her eyes adjusted to the scarce light. She could see Evan flying to her left, with the rest of the warriors spread out behind them.
Evan nodded to her to acknowledge that she was awake. She could feel the wariness of not just the dragons, but the men as well. They had been fighting and flying for hours without much rest. She briefly spoke to Midnight, who confirmed the state of the other dragons to her.
“The dragons need to rest. How far are we from the clearing?” she shouted to Evan over the wind.
Evan pointed ahead and she could just make out a lighter patch of ground. They had made it to the gorge.
The clearing was a flat valley, high within the mountains. It was cut through the middle by a deep gorge, a river at its bottom. For miles in either direction there was no way to cross. To get to the other side, one had to either fly, or cross the long rope bridge that spanned between the two sides of the gorge within this valley.
The dragons landed, Midnight with a grace only known to the great dragons, the Battle Dragons with wings beating tiredly and legs stumbling as they touched the ground. Maia felt sorry for them, but there was nothing she could do for them now. They just needed some rest.
Maia ran down Midnight’s leg and onto the yellow grass that covered the entire valley. She felt a little unsteady after so many hours in the saddle, but soon regained her balance.
The moons had travelled far across the sky since they had taken off on the other side of the forest. They now cast an eerie glow over the valley and Maia could make out clearly the dark circles under Evan’s eyes as she approached him.
“Spread out, look for spoor to see if they have come this way,” Evan ordered his men before he spoke to Maia. “Let us hope we are not too late. The dragons need to rest. We dare not push them any further.”
“I agree, Evan, but Midnight assures me that the Vampyres have not come this way yet. Bring your men in and let them see to their dragons. Allow them some sleep while Midnight surveys the surrounding forest. He will alert us should the Vampyres be near.”
“Thank you, My Princess.” He gave a crooked smile. “Maia.”
Maia smiled back at him and left him to speak to his men. She briefly conferred with Midnight, before he took flight and soared over the dark forest. They had landed about two hundred paces from the edge of the forest. They had a clear view of the ground between them and the tree line. Nothing would be able to sneak up on them undetected.
She found herself a small rock to lean against, from which she could see the forest, as well as the dragons, and watched as the men unsaddled their dragons and rubbed them down with their blankets. Their dark, sweaty bodies were steaming in the cool air and their smell was almost overpowering.
Anybody would be able to tell they were here. There was no hiding. The Werewolves, at least, would be able to smell them from miles away.
The wait felt like hours. The men, and dragons, rested somewhat, but no one was able to sleep. Midnight came back after a while, confirming that the Vampyres were still in the forest, some four miles to the east. She relayed the message to Evan and they re-saddled their dragons. They spread out in a line facing the tree line. No one moved. Nothing happened. Nerves strung tight.
“!!!” Midnight’s thought hit Maia so hard, it made her double over.
“They are here!” she croaked, out of breath.
Evan was immediately alert. “Where?”
“They are approaching the tree line, still about half a mile away, but closing. Midnight is sensing ninety life forms, of which forty-three are Werewolves. They must have picked up someone else along the way.”
Evan relayed the message down the line of command. After a short while, even their dragons picked up that they were no longer alone. They lifted their tired heads, nostrils flaring, wings half raised. Another half hour passed without incident before Maia was able to pick up the Eläm of those approaching.
The forty-three Werewolves felt very similar to the Battle Dragons, not quite person, but not animal either. The Vampyres, of which there were also forty-three, had only a faint Life-Force and Maia struggled to see them clearly. The other four, however, were undoubtedly Elves. Her skin crawled as she wondered why the Elves would be with the Vampyres. Were they helping them? She shuddered at the thought.
The Vampyres halted their march about fifty paces from the tree line. The forest was so thick, even this close to the edge, that they were completely hidden from sight.
“What are they doing?” Evan enquired quietly.
“They are waiting, watching us,” Maia answered.
The dragons shifted nervously. A small gust of wind brought the smell of rain from the north.
“Everyone, mount your dragons,” Evan ordered.
Within moments, everyone wa
s seated in their saddles. Some of the dragons were growling. Smoke curled out of Midnight’s nostrils.
“Three of them are moving towards us,” Maia relayed Midnight’s message.
“Hold your positions. Arms at the ready,” Evan quietly ordered his men.
There was a clink of armour and the scrape of swords being drawn as they waited for the Vampyres to approach.
“Dywar, what is the range of their arrows?” Evan enquired with one of his men.
“They have sturdy weapons that shoot a heavy bolt. But they do not always fly true and I believe their maximum range to be under a hundred paces.”
“Let us move closer then. The moons are about to set behind us and it won’t be long before we are in complete darkness.”
Evan moved his dragon forward, the others followed. About one hundred paces from the tree line he stopped again, just as a lone figure stepped out from under the trees. Maia noticed immediately that it was an Elf, a young man, and he was in bad shape. He stopped a few paces into the clearing. He called something, but his voice was hoarse and they could not make out what he said.
“I don’t like it. What are they playing at?” Evan protested.
Then, a second figure stepped out of the trees and joined the Elf, who was barely able to stand. The Vampyre grabbed the Elf by the elbow with one hand and put a knife to his throat with the other. There was an exchange of words.
“Retreat,” the man croaked again, now loud enough for them to hear.
A commotion ran through the warriors, but Evan silenced them quickly.
“They want to pass,” the man shouted, “or they will kill all of us.” The man was silent for a moment, then yelled, “Please, help us!”
The Vampyre slit his throat in one quick movement and the young Elf slid silently to the ground.
Maia gasped.
“Do as told, or zee others will encounter same fate as ‘im.”