The elf prince turned angrily toward the giant, who was only laughing. Dalin rushed forward, dodging to the side when the giant fired again. Dalin brought his sword up against the creature’s thigh, and then sliced it back across his ribs. The giant hunched over in pain then reached up and knocked Dalin across the face with a backhand slap. Dalin reached up to feel his face and he felt his own blood running from his nose. He turned to look at the creature whose eyes once again began to flash crimson…
Before it could fire, a scarlet-cloaked elf jumped up from behind it and smashed his hammer down on the creature’s skull. Black and green slime oozed out and then Hano drew his sword and poked both of the creature’s eyes out. Then he rained down blow after blow and destroyed the creature’s skull. The two red eyes jumped around, looking for a new place to live. Hano squashed them with his hammer repeatedly, until they were nothing.
“Let it flow through you, Dalin,” he said. “It’s the only way to beat them. Hate makes you strong.” Before Dalin could reply, Hano was gone to another area of the fray, destroying evil wherever he went.
* * *
As the battle wore on past midday, Cilio knew he must do the one thing he had hoped to avoid. His men were tired, hungry, soaked with their own sweat and blood, and the ferocity of the evil army’s attack had totally surprised them. Darhyn had known for quite some time that they were coming. They had walked into a trap.
But it was not a trap in which they were helpless. They still had Tarthur and the king had the Power of Earth on their side. Although, King Garkin could not use it until Darhyn used his Power of Fire, and perhaps the Power of Water as well. It was just too dangerous to send Tarthur. The enemy lines were too thick, and even with his escort of the Guard, he could never even hope to break through.
So Cilio would order the retreat, they were too weakened in the Savannah Plain anyway. Evil was very strong there, and the heat weakened the King’s soldiers. If they had to make it to Breshen, they would be able to use the trees for cover. Hopefully, they would not have to go that far. Retreating would spread out Darhyn’s army enough as to allow Tarthur and his escort to pass through undetected and have a shot at Castle Rathskellar. Cilio knew that he must order the retreat soon or risk fighting at night, one thing that he desperately did not want to do there.
The king’s men fell back orderly, not so quickly as to break lines, and not so slowly as to make no progress whatsoever. Whenever a group of monsters would pursue too quickly and cut themselves off from the support of their comrades, they would be soon decimated by the king’s army. The farther away the army got, the faster they went, and soon they had achieved complete separation from the Death Lord’s forces. Cilio soon gave the order for his men to eat and rest and sleep if they could. It was just after seven o’clock in the evening, and the general told the men to rest quickly, for he anticipated another attack after dark.
In this he was not disappointed, for shortly after the setting of the sun the evil ones came again. They were more organized now, and they were starting to use their powers in combination to achieve deadly results. In this new battle, one hideous creature would scream forth in some ancient and guttural language, freezing whoever heard it; helpless, the king’s soldiers would be easily finished off.
The battle began when a group of the swifter members of monsters: centaurs, flying creatures and the like, cloaked themselves with darkness and swept two hundred meters out to the right of Cilio’s forces to try to attack their backs. Cilio didn’t see them, but Zelin detected magic being used, so Cilio sent Sir Terin’s company to deal with them. They were now fighting back to back with the rest of the king’s forces.
Next came a charge to the front, which was met by the unified force of the allies. Darhyn had put some of his deadliest monsters up there. Some, once killed, would turn into acid and burn anyone within five meters. Others would explode, and still others would turn to stone with the attacker’s blade still within their bodies, leaving them weaponless. In this way, they continued to inflict damage even after they were killed.
The executive council was having a tough time. Firstly, they could have no reasonable estimate of Darhyn’s strength. His army was composed of mercenaries, goblins, trolls, orcs, and many members of smaller races like black dwarves, dragons, and snakes. But in addition to these that were alive and could be killed normally, he had his host of skull knights who would continue to pursue the king’s forces forever. The real problem, however, were the creatures that Darhyn had summoned from unknown realms. Zelin had explained that there were other known worlds where Darhyn could have gone and recruited monsters for his work, but interworld travel such as this was difficult. Zelin himself knew for certain that there were three of these other worlds, up to ten had been theorized, but it was possible that there were some that had been discovered by Frehu or Darhyn and known only to them. As if this wasn’t enough, Darhyn was also capable of creating creatures to do his bidding, as he had created the skull knights. This process was slow, but no one knew how long Darhyn had been awake, or even how long he had been preparing.
The other problem that they faced was that of the command of the opposing army. Zelin had suggested that since Darhyn would be unlikely to leave his fortress, he was probably just sending out his mind in a remote control of his army. He would be sending it through three or four generals who would be responsible for executing his commands. Cilio asked if it would be possible to kill these generals, and thus confuse the army. Zelin hastily replied that they would be some of the toughest monsters to kill, and if they did fall, Darhyn would just devolve the control onto someone else.
* * *
Sir Terin’s group was having a tough time with Darhyn’s cavalry—they were just too quick. Zelin himself had stayed in the front, but he had sent Polu, his second in charge, to the rear with half of the magicians to help out. Yan was also back there to aid Sir Terin. Polu had immediately ordered his magicians to send fire to burn off the darkness spell that Darhyn was using to hide his men. It worked somewhat, but since it was night they could still only make out faint shadows of the monsters they were fighting.
Sir Undbar’s squadron was a member of Sir Terin’s company, dealing with the attack on the rear of the main army. Sir Stephen heard a sound in front of him and yelled for his men to dive, swords in the air. They did and soon felt contact with their outstretched blades. Sir Stephen rolled, and saw a huge leathery bird lying injured on the ground. His patrol stood motionless for a second and then remembered to rush forward and finish it off.
Sir Terin’s company was holding, but it was becoming tight. Horses galloped through the lines, their riders cutting down men right and left. A huge fleshy ball of spikes came rolling around and bouncing into men, sticking them and rolling free to kill again. Sir Undbar charged the nightmare, which changed course to meet its attacker. The ball rolled forward, and then jumped up into the old knight’s face. Sir Undbar swung his sword across its body and then spun out of the way. The ball skidded in the dirt, kicking up a big cloud of dust, and then jumped up to attack Sir Undbar once again. This time, the gruff old knight jabbed his sword straight forward into the creature. The creature quivered, then shot out all of its spikes in every direction, sending three into the one who had killed it. The valiant old knight gasped once, and then breathed his last.
* * *
The battle on the front was going much better, but there again the evil ones were combining their strength to cause enormous damage. The skull knights spread out and would attack the front lines where the fighting was thickest. They could afford to take unlimited damage, and as soon as they could secure a breach in the king’s lines, the other creatures would rush in. In this way, the dark ones gained valuable strategic positions without the loss of life.
Hano was fighting like crazy, and even a few of the creatures made of fear itself were beginning to shy away from him. His emotions were overwhelming him, but not to the exclusion of his reason. He rushed forward right into
the path of a skull knight, then hacked off its arm with one blow of his sword. The skull knight calmly reached down to pick up his limb, but before he could the red-cloaked elf bent down and grabbed the severed arm at the shoulder, then using all of his force slapped the knight with his own arm so hard that his head fell off. The knight grimly walked over to pick up his head as Hano turned to meet one of the stone creatures. They were fat little dwarves, with yellow putrid teeth and reeking breath. Hano had an idea. He sliced at the monster with his sword enough to wound it, but not kill it. The creature screamed in pain and attempted to hit Hano with a hammer that had spikes sticking out all over it, but Hano easily dodged the slow and sloppy attack. Then, he jabbed the skull knight’s severed arm into the creature’s wound, turning and twisting it until he could feel the life leaving the creature, feel its blood beginning to harden. Soon, he was dead, and the skull knight’s arm was encased in the granite. The skull knight, now without his arm, began to try and reattach himself, but it was futile. His arm was now a part of the stone.
Hano screamed out the plan to the elves, and Dalin sent a messenger to tell the rest of the army immediately. Kill the stone creatures with the skull knights and they will be as good as dead.
* * *
Before this second battle, General Cilio had hoped that his forces would at least be able to fight evenly with the dark ones, but this estimate was proving woefully inadequate. Yes, they could force a roughly even battle where almost everyone would die, and that they had a small chance of winning, but Cilio was not ready to risk that. That was just what the Death Lord wanted, and Cilio would not play into Darhyn’s hands further. They would retreat until they could spread out the forces enough for Tarthur and his group to slip through. Then they could keep falling back and slowly destroying Darhyn’s army as it overextended itself. The strength of Darhyn’s army had radically altered Cilio’s plan. Now, he was content to just fall back and create time. For this he did not need to sacrifice a large number of his men. If Tarthur and the Guard failed, then things would be different, but they could reasonably hope to fall back as far as Breshen without suffering any real damage. But to begin the strategic retreat they would need to defeat the unit at the back of their army and cover the front. Cilio sent a rider to relay orders to the Duke of Walis to have his company join that of Sir Terin in the rear. He also sent orders for Dalin and his elves to withdraw into the safety of the interior and ready their longbows. The elves were famous for their archery. The king also had a battalion of a thousand archers, and he sent word for them to be ready on the flanks with arrows in string.
* * *
Chaos reigned in the rear of the army. Men had been cut off from their support all around and the battle had turned into little more than a wild free for all. Fighters had to be careful to avoid hitting people on their own side, such was the confusion and darkness all around. Sir Stephen hadn’t seen Sir Undbar fall personally, but one of his patrol members had told him. Now was his chance. Sir Stephen was the leader of a wrecked squadron of one hundred men.
Sweat rolled down his face and into his eyes, blinding him until he wiped it away with his forearm. Sir Stephen couldn’t think of anything else to do, so he got up on his horse and screamed for his squadron to rally to him. The clamor and overall confusion of the battle made him seem like a tiny ant calling out. It was not working, and if he didn’t do something quickly, the whole back of the army was in danger of collapsing. Frantically, the young knight looked around until he spotted a magician. Sir Stephen spurred his horse onward to the man and told him to make the signal. The magician understood, and sent a symbol of the king’s crown made out of fire into the sky over Sir Stephen’s head. The signal burned brightly, illuminating the area around him.
The other soldiers knew that they badly needed a rallying point and had been looking for one. They flocked to Sir Stephen, who massed the king’s soldiers together and then used them to attack Darhyn’s monsters as a unit. Monsters that could kill a solitary human over and over again without being injured now found a much different story facing five or ten at once. Sir Stephen led his men onward through courage and even a little skill, and soon he saw the red and gold banner of the Duke of Walis come up to join his squadron. With the reinforcement of two thousand men, they were able to destroy enough of Darhyn’s rear attack force for Cilio to order the archers in place on the flank. Their arrows were dipped in the elven neurotoxins, which would at least slow the most ferocious monsters. The archers were ready to cut to pieces any of Darhyn’s monsters who were stupid enough to try to pursue King Garkin’s rapidly fleeing army. The army went backwards at a sort of jog, which was much too fast for the skull knights.
* * *
By morning, they were far enough away to rest for a few hours, before they spotted Darhyn’s monsters in the distance again. They hastily retreated the whole of the second day, slept a few hours at dusk, and retreated again during the night, then slept and prepared again at daylight. Tarthur had heard that Cilio decided to let the men rest until Darhyn’s forces were spotted again, then to begin another battle. During the retreat from that battle was when he would try to let Tarthur and his escort slip through.
The king’s men were exhausted and the rest was badly needed. Fortunately, their fatigue was not compounded by lack of food or water. Their supply lines were holding well, and the king’s soldiers were refreshed by hearty meals of bread, meat, potatoes, cheeses, wine, fish, and rice. They had plenty of water, though it was made hot by the relentless sun that beat down on them. They were well armed, had plenty of arrows and other single use commodities, and would have the advantage of defending their position. This was a welcome advantage indeed. Tarthur was told that Cilio decided to use this opportunity for a small attack when the battle started.
At two o’clock in the afternoon Darhyn’s forces were spotted in the distance again, and by three o’clock they were ready to attack. Tarthur thought he had been nervous on the first day they were about to attack Darhyn, but it was nothing compared to what he felt now. He was with Gyeun, Thon, Youin, Yan, and Derlin. General Cilio had just told them to be ready, that they would be in a charge on the wing of the army, who would die to let them through. People were going to die, just so Tarthur could have a chance. When they were deep within Darhyn’s army, they were to continue to slip through the rest and walk until they got to Castle Rathskellar, there to search for the Orb. Derlin was not going with them. The more people they brought, the easier they could be caught. So it was just the five of them. And Tustor, of course, but he could only send out his mind to Tarthur infrequently and then for short duration. The whole army was counting on the five of them. He felt as if the army was making a big mistake placing their hopes in him. What could he do against the Death Lord himself?
Derlin looked at Tarthur, and neither of them needed to say what they were both feeling. They knew that there was a good chance that this day would be the last time they saw each other. Derlin was going to tell Tarthur about his responsibility, about Yonathan, about everyone counting on him—but one look into Tarthur’s face told him this was unnecessary. Looking at the person he had known all his life, Derlin saw something unfamiliar. Tarthur had become a man. Tarthur, looking into Derlin’s eyes, saw the same. They were ready.
Words didn’t come easily to either.
“Hey,” Derlin said putting a firm hand on Tarthur’s shoulder. “Take care of yourself. We’ve been through too much together. We need to get one more thing to show Morty up with.”
Tarthur reached forward and hugged Derlin, then separated and slapped his friend on the shoulder. “Let’s do this!”
The battle started much in the way of the others, with the evil ones charging the middle of Cilio’s line. Cilio had anticipated this though, and archers were already ready to cut the skull knights to pieces with their arrows. The magicians had given the archers a powder to place on the ends of their arrows that exploded when it reached their target. Exploded skull knights took h
ours to reassemble themselves. Next came some ferocious monsters, with projectile weapons of their own. These forced the archers to fall back and be replaced with soldiers with shields. Soon, the lines had closed and the archers shed their now useless bows for weapons that worked better in close combat.
When the lines had been closed for about half an hour Cilio sent his charge on the left wing. In a normal battle, the charge would serve to cause Darhyn to divert some of his strength from the front to the sides and thus give the allies a greater chance to break through in the middle. But this charge’s main purpose was to get Tarthur and his escort safely across enemy lines. Tarthur and his group were in the middle, protected by a wall of soldiers. They pushed forward through fierce fighting, and it seemed as if Darhyn’s monsters were having the advantage. After fifteen minutes they had pushed two hundred meters into the enemy lines when a group of fifteen ogres and a midsize dragon came up to stop their advance. Tarthur saw men dying all around him, and when he looked at Yan, he knew that it was time. Gyeun gave the signal, and they quickly rushed past their protection. Tarthur woefully noted that it would be the last safety they would have for quite some time.
* * *
She wished Yvette were here. Yvonne had been able to busy herself with organizing the supply wagons going to the front, and nothing helped the days creep by more than having something constructive to do. Still, her anxiety was overwhelming her. She felt so restless; she wanted to be out there doing something. The greatest events of her lifetime were transpiring, and she was sitting around organizing food and weapon shipments! It wasn’t as if she had no right to be involved, either, especially since her boyfriend was one of the main people fighting! It was funny to call him that. While she had admired boys before, Yvonne had never had a real boyfriend. She smiled when she thought of Tarthur, and inwardly cursed herself for submitting to him before he had left. Against her violent objections, he had made her promise that no matter what she would stay in Breshen and away from the fight. There were only two people in the world that could make Yvonne promise something like that, and actually keep it. That was all the more reason she wished her twin were there to comfort her, and to knock some sense into her about the whole Tarthur issue. If she didn’t know better, she would probably say that she was in love! Imagine, the head of the Guild of Thieves in love, just like some ordinary teenager. What was the world coming to?
Lands of Daranor: Book 01 - DreamQuest Page 30