by Jason Jones
She heard the growls and hisses, her vision was a blur of black and white haze, then she heard a yell of pain from someone. Feline eyes were over her, mere feet away, and Aelaine struggled to summon something through her hand to fend it off. Her body ached, the spell produced but smoke and a flash of color, nothing more.
Kendrynn dove through the fires, broadsword raised, shield low. His face and head burned, his hair was smoldering, yet his blade took the head off of the panther over Aelaine in one vicious chop. She smiled up to him, pain ripping through her body from the arrows imbedded in her, and her eyes were wet with tears and her face was splattered with blood. She looked as the decaptitated body returned to that of a naked man. Then Aelaine looked to her fires, now smoldering into small flames she could not bring back, and lastly to the burned and bloody captain of Vallakazz, also with two arrows in his chest.
“Retreat, Captain Shilde, retreat to Vallakazz.” Aleaine’s eyes closed. She felt herself being lifted onto a horse, she felt the horse riding fast, and the growling hisses of panther men faded as weakness forced her to sleep.
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Alexei T’Vellon was on the east wall, on foot, thirty of his knights in tow. He saw the charge of his king, and he matched in step from above. His blade plunged into the exposed neck of a Valhirst soldier, then pulled back and swung down arcoss and through the chainmail and chest of another. His shield blocked an arrow, then another, and he rushed the archers in black. Just as they reloaded, his broadsword took the blackmasked head of one, then he spun and drove the point through the stomach of the other. The scream was silenced as he kicked ahead and forced the dark clad archer off his blade and to a thirty foot fall to the courtyard floor below.
The Lord of Southwind did not stop, he looked to the stairs leading down to his king as they filled with soldiers. A charging halberd was blocked, then a second, his blade had not the reach to counter. At least one hundred blocked him from the king, blocking his men with long reaching polearms and driving them back up to the catwalk. His knights locked their shields and gave one hard push, it did little to move such a force in tight quarters.
“To the north wall, around the other side! To the king!” Alexei roared, his men doubling back around to reach a set of stairs down. They had killed the doppelgangers on the walls, taken out most of the archers on the north and east sides, yet they were now being corralled like cattle. The Valhirst army had them all divided, separated from the main force, and even some locked outside the castle walls.
The Lord of Southwind ran along the catwalk, his men killing and being killed as black clad assassins emerged from hidden passages and plunged shortblades in the night. The broadsword cut down another soldier through the flank, then one more that charged him lost his leg above the knee as Alexei lowered in swing. His steps moved faster, almost to the stairs on the north wall, twenty Southwind men behind him remaining. Fifty halberds stomped up the stairs, halfway up, the soldiers led by a man in torn ragged clothing. A patch over one eye and a wicked smile preceeded him as he twirled a longsword and a dagger.
“Kill the trrraitor, and his men.” Farrigus purred out his orders as whiskers sprouted on his face and he stepped with the Valhirst soldiers toward Alexei T’Vellon.
The only way to Mikhail was either a thirty foot drop onto cobblestone, or through this man and the soldiers that blocked the stairs. Alexei looked back, nineteen knights behind him now, against fifty armed halberdiers. He smiled, pointed his blade at the man with the feline eye and the patch, and charged him.
“Aaahhhhhh!” The Lord of Southwind saw the field, dark as it was, right before the clash of steel on the stairs. King Mikhail had charged in gloriously, yet was surrounded in the yard. There was no escape, the Valhirst army held the only exit south, and the arrows and cats began picking off any stragglers from the main force. He saw his king reach Johnas Valhera though, blade to blade, and that was all he needed to see.
The broadsword chopped down with all his force, met by two blades crossed, yet it scratched the face of the man with the patch. It sent him back, nearly into the approaching axeheads on poles held by his own men. Alexei continued his attack, his remaining men behind him. He thrust ahead, dodged by his opponent, then slashed left, met by the longblade, then right, and he ducked under. His foe was quick, yet the stairs were held in stalemate now as his knights engaged the Valhirst forces.
Farrigus feinted a lunge with his blade, then stabbed his dagger toward the lord of knights, three times in rapid succession. Each time a shield stopped the attack. Then Crimson of the North slashed low to cut the legs out from under his enemy up higher on the stairs. Not willing to give ground, the lord sidestepped, spun round, and met him face to face, avoiding his longblade. Their breath could be felt on each others’ faces.
His whiskers ached to change form, his fingers felt claws sprouting as the melee surrounded him and his opponent on the north stairs, yet Farrigus resisted. He hissed as his longblade twirled in constant feint, then slashed diagonal at Alexei. It was blocked with a ready broadsword. His dagger slashed low, then high, then stabbed into the swordarm of his adversary. Before he could purr or smile, the shield cracked his face and knocked him to his knees. Then a hard boot resounded the pain in his face and took his patch off with the blow.
Alexei dove his broadsword down to finish the man that had cut him, but his blade met stone as his opponent rolled under the attack. Suddenly, the man was ferocious. His white eye covered in scars now revealed, the other looked green and feline in shape, and his skin darkened with fur. The blades came fast, too fast for a human to unleash. The lord of Southwind parried the longblade twice with his shield, then blocked the dagger, and then parried another two slashes of steel with his sword. He could not counter, could not riposte, the assault was too fast. Back up the stairs he went, his men in desperate battle, yet he had no choice. Step by stair, he withdrew under the blurring blades he barely defended against. He was on the catwalk, fell to one knee near the battlements overlooking the castle, and the steel kept coming closer.
Farrigus knew he had him, he backed up one quick step, fighting the change in the night, and lunged at his exhausted and kneeling foe. His shield arm was low and tired, his swordarm bleeding, this lord was finished. He felt his teeth elongate as it was time for the kill. He leapt, blades in perfect lunge, yet a sudden broadsword crosscut them away. Then a shield raised under his chin, and over the edge he went.
Alexei T’Vellon grinned at his little ruse, then felt his shield strap tighten. He looked, claws hung onto his shield, then pulled him over the wall. Falling, struggling with a man that was now covered in black fur and sprouting a tail, he fell thirty feet down. His arm locked with the dagger, his broadsword disarmed the weapon, and Alexei held in a deadlock fall as the world whipped toward them. He passed ladders with dead men upon them, arrows flew by and fires colored the night sky in orange, then he hit bottom.
Sploosh!
Moments went by, only his gurgling made noise. For those few moments, he felt peace and quiet from his battle weary mind. His chest ached, and Alexei crawled and struggled over sunken bodies and wooden spikes. His enemy was nowhere in the dark waters, he did not care, his only ally was air right now. He reached up, grabbing a boot, and pulled another corpse to the depths. Then another, and finally there was air. He gasped as quietly as he could, climbed through the mud, and then to his feet. His blade still in hand, bleeding from his arm, he looked around to see where his foe was. He saw him, but it was not him anymore.
Farrigus paced the moat from the castle side, his urges to finish this lord were strong, yet his instincts would not let him clear the water. His enemy was on the outside of the water, just twenty feet, but his body would not let him cross it. He looked for a way around, but the bridges were up, the enemy siege planks sunk, and he would have to go around far south to get across. Fear prevented him, an instinct he could not overcome. He hissed and roared, glared with his feline eye an
d pale dead eye at Alexei of Southwind, then ran to the south to find his way across, and kill him.
The Lord of Southwind headed south as well, knowing it was his only way in. He looked to the ladders, most aflame or broken, the remaining ones would made him an easy mark for archers if he swam the moat to reach them. He ran to the south of Valhirst Castle, to rejoin the hopeless battle inside. He thought of his father, Arlinne, and smiled. He knew it was what he would have done. Ogre or troll, panthers or shapeshifters, a Lord of Southwind fears nothing more than defeat. So, he ran harder, because this surely looked like defeat, if ever he saw it.
The bodies moaned, so close to death as they lay dying in the blood and mud outside Valhera Castle. Alexei kept running, gathering no men to his side, as there were none to be seen besides the enemy or those locked in desperate combat. To the south, right as he went to turn past the rubble of broken stone that littered the only open gate, something caught his eye in the dark. Several somethings.
He saw a black robed woman across a horse, Kendrynn Shilde at the reins, turning and veering to get past soldiers and circling panthers. Arrows stuck out from he and Aelaine, even the steed. Past them, barely vivible with the low light of flames dwindling on the field, he saw someone sneaking east through the trees and hills. He saw a white tabard with a feathered cross, one of his men helping someone walk. Alexei squinted more, he saw Lavress Tilaniun in the moonlit shadows, helping the same ragged man with his knight. They headed northwest, while Kendrynn and Aelaine were trying to go southwest. He paused, they had rescued the prince, he was shocked.
The lord, like his father before him, felt what he must do. He knew it was the prince they had, the only heir. With the forces on the field, they would not make it an hour in their flight for survival, not without help. Or, without a distraction. He fought his desire to fight for his king, and concentrated on saving his future king. Alexei looked to a horse laying on the field, it was cut across the face and had an arrow in its side, yet it was alive. He grabbed the reins and helped it up.
“Easy girl, easy.” He rubbed the bloody mare’s face, then picked up a Chazzrynn banner. He looked north as he mounted the skittery steed. North was quiet, it was empty, and it had plenty of room to run along the eastern coast. He raised his blade as blood ran down his arm and ribs.
“I am Alexei T’Vellon, Lord of Southwind Keep! Long live King Mikhail, true king of Chazzrynn! I challenge any man to try and match steel with me!”
He yelled as if it were the last breath he may ever take. He yelled for his kingdom, his rulers, and for the survival of a chance that some may live. To his hopes, he attracted much attention. Just as he whipped the reins, archers pointed and began to fire. Panthers raised their heads, growled, and started to give chase. Soldiers hunting in platoons for stragglers locked outside the castle, charged and yelled for his blood, the hunt had begun.
His mare charged north and east, leading the forces outside the castle away from Aelaine Lazlette and Captain Shilde, away from the two brave men who had rescued Prince Bryant, and away from a battle that he desperately wished to rejoin. Alexei looked back in the glimmering night, hundreds on his trail now, and he sped faster north. Screams for mercy issued in the night breeze, swords clashed with shields, and many men were dying or dead. Thousands already ceased their breaths, and Alexei T’Vellon heard the enemy coming for him, and this time, he was alone.
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Falling, both of them, their spells of levitation had been dismissed by the wizards inside Southwind Keep. They had been caught off guard, surprised, and now their sure victory was a maddening array of explosive magical defeat. At the last moment, Vanessa Blackflame and Eliah Shendrynn unleashed arcane forces that stopped their freefall, and they hovered inches above the ground.
They could see nothing, nothing hopeful on the field of battle before them. Blasts continued to rain in every direction, ogre forces were scattered and retreating from the keep. Trolls were screeching and attacking the ogre. Avegarne was dragging three green savages with him as he fled. Mun Parr was on foot, her servants carrying her throne had been butchered by ogre soldiers. Troll and ogre fought each other, seemingly under a vicious enchantment, and those that did resist and approach Southwind were decimated by arrows and conjured fires.
“Class of three forty six, give them another storm of ice and hail!”
Vanessa heard the command, followed by a massive cooperative summoning that covered the field in a bombardment of freezing projectiles. She tried to stop it, but all she could manage against so many channels was to get a barrier of force over her head. Eliah did the same. The chunks of ice pummeled their barriers, forcing them closer to the ground.
“Three hundred forty seven, shower the wet field with sparks!”
Another command echoed from the west, and the dazzling sizzle of electrified field flashed with the falling of countless ogre and trolls. Eliah lifted up, high into the air, just out of reach from the grasping electrical storm. Vanessa was not as lucky.
Her mind raced with sudden terror. She was back on the bridge in Valhirst, the lightning had struck her face again, and Vanessa froze. All her skills as Sapphire of the East, her deadly training with the blade, even her confident ability with the arcane was nullified. Flashbacks of her face being burned by the power of Gwenneth Lazlette, recalling the blast and the shock, she lay on the wet field as jolts of electricity caused her to spasm and cry. Soon, she covered her face and curled into the fetal position as the armies of ogre and troll fled and died.
Eliah looked down to her, there was nothing touching her, no spell nor source of pain. Yet, she was rubbing her face, sobbing and squirming as if she were being killed a thousand times over. He, Salah Cam in control of the body, looked at the battle. There was no battle. Ahead were the walls of Southwind and Elcram, and nothing of their forces tried to get through. To his right, ogre bodies by the hundreds, burned and charred and dead. His head turned left, ogre fleeing with their king, trolls fighting them, and complete chaos. Merciless flames still lobbed from the walls, dozens every moment, incinerating the trolls that tried to regrow and stand. It was over, it was a trap, and they had no army left to stand. What they had left, was fighting each other as it was.
Kill her, with my sword, and surrender yourself to these wizards. Then, they will get you out of my body…
Eliah was yelling in his head as Salah Cam stood dumbfounded on the field, in the middle of carnage, but over his scarred beauty.
“No, we need to retreat, with her.” Salah Cam spoke outloud. His voice was stronger, he maintained control. Their allies grew less, soon they would be the only living beings on the field, soon they would be captured.
Turn yourself in, they can reverse what you have done to us…
“I have no body, remember? It is in that chasm, so the only thing left to do, is get rid of you, Eliah Shendrynn. But I will work on that with her, not alone.” Salah Cam picked up the twitching body of Vanessa, and began to float west. He cared not for the deals with Johnas Valhera. He cared not for Eliah, only his body. Yet for some reason, he felt something for the scarred Caberran girl.
You are thinking with my loins, not your own. Yours rotted off long ago, fiend. Get out of my body! Take off that ring, get out! Get out now…
“Never.”
The cheers went loud, young cheers, few for such a battle. Yet Salah knew that without the armies of Avegarne and Mun Parr, they had no chance to regroup nor stay. He had sensed nothing, seen nothing of the sort with his vision, yet it happened. Floating above the ground, higher into the night sky, Salah Cam, in the possessed body of Eliah Shendrynn, carried Vanessa Blackflame to the safety of the Western Wastes.
Take off that ring! Let me have my body, bastard, take off the ring…
Vanessa was awake, then asleep, then back into a strange floating dream. The white moon was large and near full, the green moon a massive crescent, and the stars were out. She was in pain, yet did not k
now why. She was flying into the star filled sky, carried by a handsome highborn elf. No patriarch Johnas to demand of her, no Balric to question her love, and nothing to lie or betray about. For this moment, nearing the outskirts of Arouland high above the ground, she felt peace. She heard voices, voices calling to her. Muffled at first, then stronger. Each time Eliah looked at her, she closed her eyes, she wanted this moment of serenity to last forever.
She smiled, the voice knew she was awake, but Eliah did not. It told her sweet things, many things, and made promises. It was faint, but she could make out the words now. It was him now, his heart talking to hers perhaps, the only person besides Balric D’Vrelle that had a care in the world for her. She smiled, and did as he asked, his heart to hers. Vanessa knew that he was talking to her, even though his eyes looked ahead at the ruins. It was beautiful, the things he said to her.
Take my ring, take my platinum ring off, you may keep it. I will wed you oneday, and make you my queen, Vanessa. I will take you away from all of this. Take it off, sweet Caberran rose, my brown eyed goddess, take it…
“Yes? Yes I will.” She felt her age again, young and innocent, forgetting all of her past and her position in the White Spider. Just as they landed toward the ground at skyborn journey’s end, in front of the ruins, Vanessa took off the ring from the hand of Eliah Shendrynn.
“What did you say, what, what are you doing!?” Salah Cam felt it, something pushing him out of the body, he felt Vanessa touching his hand. Then, he felt nothing but a rush of pain. The body fell to the ground, hit hard, and Vanessa rolled over and over onto her back.
“Nooooooo!!!”
Black clouds erupted from the face and mouth of her highborn rescuer. Shimmering skulls of wicked gleams and a thousand ghosts poured from his body onto the ground. Thunder from nowhere boomed, the sky darkened with clouds that grew from nothing, and the earth was trembling with anger as the spirits dove into the cracks and crevices of Arouland and out of sight.