The Queen raised her voice and on her face was a look of fierce determination! The look in her eyes was sharp and piercing! “Hear me, My Noble Lords! From where the sun now stands, we will stand and fight the Slaughter-Wolves forever, making of them eunuchs! We will fight Hister’s minions until every child is free to grow up safe and every elder can spend their grey years in peace! Hear me, my chiefs, and know that what we do here, and what the Kings and their armies do west of here, determines the destiny of Midgard for all time! Let us be Berserkers for the sake of those we love!”
As the murmuring over her sword gave way to cheers, the Queen stood. Though it was painful for her, she stood up, holding her sword high in the air. Above her head, perched high on a timber, sat a great monarch butterfly, exercising its wings. It was then that she heard a gentle whisper on the wind. A voice none but she could hear spoke, saying, “Lift up your eyes, Eowythane, for soon he whom you seek cometh.”
She sat back down just as Momma Gerda came from their living quarters and entered the War Room. She could see that her daughter was hurting and fatigued. The Queen Mother walked up and said to all, “The Queen is tired, Noble Lords! The Witan knows what must be done now and the meeting is at an end!”
Lord Randver bowed in respect as all in the room fell silent, and he said, “Yes, Lady Gerda. The Queen must rest.” Turning to the Ealdormen and Thanes, he said, “Quick, and snap to it, for time is short. Assemble the Army of Thorstadt for battle! Do it for family! Let us ride forth in glory, oh ye heroes!”
At that moment, a clamour began to arise across Thorstadt! The people saw an amazing sight which filled them with awe. Captain Gauron, standing guard with his men at the door of the Long House, fixed his gaze upon the great white, flying unicorns which bore on their backs riders both known and strange. There were clouds in the sky, some dark and some not as dark, through which brilliant rays of sunshine pierced, looking as if it were like the shining gates of Asgard. From out of one such cloudy gate, and seeming to ride down the beams of light on a celestial highway, came Byock, Min Tze, Horsa, Kraus, Thurgau and Anton. Seeing their men on such wondrous animals, the people of Thorstadt began to cheer! Gauron’s eyes widened and he and his men made ready to defend the Mead Hall!
Gauron looked again and shouted, “No! Fear not, lads! Horsa has returned with the White Wizard of Shangra-La!” He let out a battle cry, as did his fellow Thanes. He turned and entered the Mead Hall in a rapid walk. He came into the midst of the assembly in the War Room and walked straight to where the Great Queen still sat, mother by her side. “My Queen, Horsa and the Quest Warriors have returned astride flying white unicorns. Byock is here, My Queen.”
A look of relief came over the Queen’s face. Eileza turned and grabbed a hold of Sigmund and hugged him like a bear and said, “Hister’s dead now! Or will be!” Sigmund felt hot flashes in his stomach as Eileza embraced him and his heart was pounding.
Siggy was just about to discover a unique trait in Princess Eileza. She was so happy till she wrestled Sigmund to the ground and pinned him! The young Lord was totally shocked, that a girl body slammed people when she was happy. The thought of what she would do to someone when she was angry, caused Sigmund to be a bit disconcerted. Little Lilia had been laughing and cheering; until she saw Eileza body-slam Sigmund onto the floor. “Stop beating up my Big Brother!” she exclaimed. The child leaped off of Greta’s shoulders and right onto the back of Eileza and began to pound the top of the Dwarf girl’s head with her tiny fists!
Her anger turned to laughter again as Eileza tried to block the tiny girl’s punches, saying, “No, I was just playing throw-down, that’s all!”
At that moment a group of other children came into the War Room from out in the corridor. It was Sigmund’s friends. Gustav and his twin brother Lars and their little sister Birgitta joined in and piled on top of them.
The unicorns landed softly in the courtyard in front of the Mead Hall. Byock and all of them slid off the backs of these noble steeds and were greeted by the Thanes and assembled warriors and their families.
Byock came up beside the unicorn on which he had ridden and hugged him, saying in his mind, “Farewell, Majestic King Chi-i-Lin and Queen Qi-lin. We are most grateful for your willingness to help us in our time of need.”
Chi-i-Lin replied, “We too must face this darkness, my old friend. We will be there always when the time is right, and Shaddai bids us go unto thee, Byock.”
No-one else could hear the conversation and for them it sounded like the unicorn was making the sounds of any other common horse. It was then that the unicorns took flight, vanishing into the light of the sun.
From inside the Mead Hall came Queen Gwynnalyn, who was now feeling ill and was sweating. At her side was Lord Randver, followed by the Witan. Gerda was right beside her daughter to help her along if she needed it, as well as Sister Greta. The Queen, Lord Randver and the Witan met Byock and Min Tze in the centre of the courtyard.
The Wizard, wearing his white robe and hood, bowed to her in greeting, in the ways of Shangra-La and Cathay, and said, “Greetings, noble and honoured Queen.”
He removed his hood as he straightened out and the Queen replied, “You have come to us, Master Wizard. We all prayed this day would come. And you have come, riding upon a unicorn, the same one in my dreams! I have been having dreams for years about unicorns. Ever since I was a small child, and now I understand why.”
He replied, “Indeed, Gracious Queen. Know that the victory shall be ours, for it is written in the Scrolls of the Beginnings of a Prophecy:
‘And the unicorns shall come down with them, and the bullocks with their bulls; and their land shall be soaked with blood, and their dust made fat with fatness. You, Holy God, will save me from the Dragon’s mouth; for thou hast heard me from the horns of unicorns.’”
He bowed once more and could see that something was really wrong with her. She returned his bow and then collapsed unconscious into her mother’s arms.
Overhead was a circling raven! Upon seeing that foul bird, who, he knew, was a Huggin, Byock knew for sure that Hister was behind this illness! “This is witchcraft. Sorcery is afoot! A vile black magic has been visited upon our Queen,” declared Byock in a forceful yet calm voice.
He raised his left hand and pointed his small finger at the raven. His monarch butterfly emerged from the Mead Hall and the raven immediately went after it! As soon as the bird was within striking distance of the butterfly, two tiny bolts of lightning flew from out of the tail of the beautiful insect and struck Hister’s Huggin in the eyes. The blinded bird crashed into the wall above the door of the Mead Hall, and Gauron slammed his helmet down over the top of it and captured it.
Just at that moment, Eileza, Sigmund and Lilia and the kids emerged from the Mead Hall. Lilia was riding on Sigmund’s shoulders, with her tiny hands on his head. Eileza, seeing what had just happened, stated, “Well, Siggy, this bring back any recent memories?” She laughed and so did he as he nodded in the afirmitive.
The next thing they saw was the Queen being carried on a litter through the doors of the Mead Hall with the Priestess Byrnhilda rushing them along and Min Tze following along rapidly!
A look of panic came over Lilia’s face and she said, “Not Her Majesty! Hurry, big brother! Let’s help her!” She was crying now, with her face in little Lord Sigmund’s thick long hair, as he and Eileza rushed inside, right behind Byock and Min Tze!
Captain Gauron prevented the other children from going in further, with a stern look, and said, “Lord Sigmund will inform you of Her Majesty’s condition.”
The battle would soon be joined, for the lives of all Tervingia hung in the balance. Overhead, above the wooden city, flew a dozen or so Gargoyles assigned to the Ogre Army of Gorkan-Mar by Dragos the Green. They were there to spy out the city and the land and see the troop deployments of the Gomerian forces around Thorstadt. The Army of Gorkan-Mar was marching hard for Thorstadt after crossing the Fords of the Tannais River, and over
their heads, fluttering in the breeze, were thousands of monarch butterflies. Hell had marched forth from out of Morgag.
Chapter XV
The Battle of Prairie’s Flame
From the Skald’s Tale:
The singers sing tonight of that long ago day, when the Army of Korgan-Tal joined battle against the Rebel Alliance on the twenty-fifth day of the harvest month Haust-manour, in the 592nd year of the First Age of Midgard. Men who should have been harvesting the wheat and barley were forced to fight for their lives. The clash began when the Gargoyles of Dragos the Green attempted to fly over the rebel army. They were spotted by the Getic Cavalryman of Lord Gedron, who accompanied the Massagetae Mounted Long Bowmen.
“There go the green teufels!” shouted Lord Gedron.
Lord Radagaisus was a Massagetae Ealdorman and served King Agar with honour and loyalty, but well known as a heavy drinker and a gambler. He was one of the few in King Tane’s court that had survived the recent wave of Slaughter-Wolf onslaughts and was determined that the reptile demons that he saw this day in the air above would not get past his elite Long Bowmen. “Lord Gedron, cover us! Massagetae Long Bowmen, dismount!”
The warriors swiftly dismounted and formed a line atop the grassy ridge. The Long Bowmen took aim and began shooting wave after wave of arrows at the oncoming Gargoyles. Forty beasts fell from the sky and the rest flew on as fast as they could.
Lord Radagaisus removed his helmet and said, “Dragos’ Teufels [Devils] aren’t stopping to fight us. Why?”
At that moment, Lord Gedron rode up with a dozen or so Getic Horsemen. “Ealdorman Radagaisus, those Gargoyles are the advanced guard of Korgan-Ta’s hosts. Because Korgan-Tal has these Teufels with him, he can see where our Armies march. We must kill them all. Show Dragos the black flag! We must warn the Kings.”
“Yes, Lord Gedron, the battle has begun! Oh, ye Generals of Visigoth, be glad that, when we slay the Saracen horde, there are no Gargoyles with them, as King Sigurd and Queen Gwynnalyn faced in their day.”
K ings Sigurd, Togrobeg, Osrik and Agnar received word that the Scythian hordes were directly ahead. Just then, the battle horns began to sound. A flying host of Gargoyles flew in and attempted to assault the Kings and their guards!
“How dare those creatures try swooping in on us!” shouted Lord Snaevar.
King Sigurd, sitting tall in the saddle astride Yggdrasil, drew his sword, The Tyrfingr, and it began to glow with a blue halo as the Gargoyles dropped into their midst. These creatures were on a mission to drop right in the midst of the rebel host and try killing the Kings! The fighting was hand-to-hand and King Agnar was struck, falling from his horse mortally wounded! Though his Thanes tried valiantly to protect him, the noble Agnar fell silent that day; and his soul was welcomed into Valhalla, the halls of the honoured dead, by Wotan. Though his loyal Thanes tried valiantly to guard his majesty, their beloved King, they were struck down one by one! A massive winged Gargoyle, the blackish-grey Commander Rameses, let loose a dagger which penetrated King Agnar’s neck in the space between his chain-mail coat and golden-coloured, horned helmet. As Agnar died, choking in blood, King Sigurd jumped from his horse and ran to the side of his fellow King! “My brother King, not now, not today, when we still have so many more battles to fight!” King Sigurd removed Agnar’s helmet. He took part of his purple sash and, as he removed the dagger, tried to use it to stop the bleeding, but it was no good! The wound was too ghastly and bad! Agnar held out his hand! Sigurd took it in his own hand as the fighting raged all around them and arrows filled the sky above them like a cloud. Rameses escaped to fight another day.
Agnar gasped his last, saying, “Sigurd, shepherd my people! You are the last hope of my Massagetae Tribe. King Tane of the Thyssagetae Tribe loved and trusted you, Sigurd. Guide our people to freedom, Sigurd. Let your son rule us all as one people after you, my, my…!”
As Lord Snaevar and King Osrik knelt there beside King Sigurd, they heard Agnar’s last words and saw him die choking up blood into the dry grass beside his head.
A voice cried out! “My King, look out!” Lord Siggier, a King’s Thane, leaped off of his horse towards the King with a shield in his hand! He knocked the King out of the way, and the arrows which had been fired at the King from yet another Gargoyle were deflected! Siggier had just saved the life of King Sigurd the Good and all the free people of the steppes were blessed that day. An arrow found the leg of Siggier as he rolled onto the ground and pulled his dagger! With all his skill, he tossed the deadly little blade and it found its mark in the eye of the attacking Gargoyle Wing Trooper! The other Thanes around the King reacted and shot the Gargoyle’s wings full of arrows! The Teufel fell from the sky on top of the King and with a dagger once more tried to destroy King Sigurd! Siggier, in spite of the arrow protruding from the back of his left thigh, had his axe in hand and so buried it deep behind the skull of the Wing Trooper! Volsung stabbed the reptile with his sword as Siggier finished the job! Other Thanes pulled the King to safety as Siggier decapitated the Gargoyle all the while shouting a raging, blood curdling battle cry!
“Today is not your day to travel to Valhalla, my King,” smiled Thane Siggier. It was then that he realised that he was wounded and he could no longer stand up. He fell with a thud to the ground as men rushed to tend to him lest he bleed to death. He was soon taken to the field apothecary for the healers and priestesses to treat him.
The battle defies description for horror, but alas an arrow found its mark in the eye of King Osrik just as he lifted up his face-shield to cool his sweated brow and take a refreshing drink of water from his canteen. Where had the arrow come from? Dragos the Green sneered and let out a defiantly evil laugh as he swooped past with Rameses close behind. The Thanes and warriors saw their kings falling one by one.
It was then that Lord Volsung shouted, “Rally behind Sigurd! There he sits astride Yggdrasil like a fortress, my brothers!”
The good Kings Sigurd and Togrobeg were now the only monarchs left among the living. There were no more Tervingian Kings in all Midgard save Sigurd the Good.
Dragos flew high into the air and he signalled for his Gargoyles to rally for another strike. Rameses and the beasts formed a line behind their King and, while hovering, began sending a shower of arrows down onto the forces of the Dwarves, who were being forced onto the defensive by a massive Scythian attack! However, the Dwarves returned fire and the teufels could not stay in place! Many of them fell as their wings were pierced by sure flying arrows of Dwarf steady aim and the Dwarven Berserkers raged on in Battle’s hot fury.
Korgan-Tal felt victory within his grasp when a Gargoyle dispatch flyer flew in with news from King Dragos. “General Korgan-Tal, I have word from My King Dragos. Osrik has been killed, as has Agnar.”
The Slaughter-Wolf General’s face was now painted with glee and he looked at his officers and said, “Then it is well and good. The next will be Sigurd and with his death the rebellion will be crushed and our power secure! Then that sawed-off little runt Togrobeg will meet his doom, as well as his midget scum! It still concerns me greatly, though, as to where these Tervingians obtained so many weapons of steel! The last I was told was that most were armed with bronze or dull iron! Where did this steel come from in such quantity?”
Back in Thorstadt, Byock sensed that the times were grim. He sat cross-legged and saw through the eyes of his butterfly that flew in and out around the din of battle on Prairie’s Flame. He saw the clash of swords and heard the horrific cry of the wounded on both sides and knew how sad it truly was. The Scythians and their allies were led by cruel warlords and the common warriors fought because they were doomed to do so.
Speaking to himself aloud, he said, “This must change! Men’s hearts must change if there is ever to be peace in Midgard.”
Byock’s tears bespoke the sadness of the day. Min Tze could feel his sadness, even as she tended the ailing Queen with Byrnhilda. The stricken Queen was lying in her royal bedchamber with child and in pain.
Above the battle flew a black raven and the battle of wizards was joined.
Far to the west in Kul-Oba, Adawulf Hister gazed into the basin of divination, which was made of black crystal and stood up much as a bird-bath does. Through the eyes of his Huggin he could see the raging battle as well as the ailing Queen. But, unlike Byock, Hister the Black was pleased to see the carnage and the death and the pain! Then he felt the power of Byock the White enter the equation. Through the eyes of his Huggin, he saw King Sigurd sitting tall in the saddle atop the ridge, sword in hand, with Togrobeg beside him, both firm and valiant.
Over the battlefield there suddenly arose a storm from out of the east! A great cloud appeared and the wind began to blow! King Sigurd raised the Tyrfingr high above his head and the weapon shined with a blue glow the like of which had never been seen by man or dwarf! Meanwhile, in the heavens above the storm, the evil Spirit and Adversary of all that is good, Loki, watched unseen by all not in tune with spirit.
It was then that Byock prayed, saying, “Oh, Lord God of all that is good and kind, come now unto us in our time of need, Holy One! For Loki has descended upon us in great wrath, knowing that his time is short! Send us he who will blunt his power on this the day of the Battle of Prairie’s Flame!”
Hister the Black could sense that his enemy Byock was praying and calling out to Great Shaddai! He laughed and spoke into his divination fountain, “Cry out to your miserable God, Byock! Cry all you will, because He has abandoned you and allowed Loki to reign and, through him, my power shall triumph supreme!”
Visigothic_The Barbarians Of Midgard Page 17