Knight Fire

by Brad Clark

  The gatehouse door was unlocked, and he burst through, cocked crossbow in one hand and sword in the other. Expecting a fight, he was surprised to find the gatehouse empty.

  “Guard the door,” Sir Gossmire ordered.

  One of his knights closed the door and barred it. The gatehouse was a small room within the wall whose ceiling was the top of the wall. Wooden planks had been built across the wall that faced outward towards the open space between the two gate doors. At chest level, there were thin slits or murder holes that would allow bowmen to fire arrows or crossbows at invaders that were stuck between the two gate doors. He had expected the gatehouse to be full of defenders ready to attack any who came through the first door.

  “This is too easy,” one of the knights said.

  Sir Gossmire shook his head. “I think we overestimated our northern neighbor. Their army is small and unmotivated. I am not going to complain. Now help me with these timbers so that the doors can be opened.”

  The doors of the gate were locked by three large timbers that slid from the end of the gatehouse to another gatehouse on the other side of the open area preventing the gate doors from being opened. The timbers were nearly two feet around and were too heavy for one person to move on their own. Fortunately, Sir Gossmire had three other strong knights with him. With painful slowness, they grabbed chains that were wrapped around the timber and pulled with all their might. After a moment of not budging, the timber finally moved, and they slid it along a ledge until it was no longer in front of the front gate doors. After the other two timbers had been moved, the gate’s doors swung open, fireballs exploding through the open doorway and crashing into the next door.

  ***

  Hargon watched with stunned amazement as one of his fireballs pushed the gate open a little bit, and then the force of the following fireballs pushed it completely open. He expected to see an army of Thellians come running out, but none did. His eyes scanned the top of the wall, waiting for another crossbowman to make an appearance, but he saw no movement. The defenders were all dead, or maybe they had given up. Either way, it appeared that the battle was almost over.

  The Karmon Knights who would be a part of the first assault jogged up to his position, and they began walking towards the open door of the gate, shields up and prepared to block any crossbow attack. Moving slowly and cautiously, they waited for more defenders to make an appearance. But none came.

  Hargon took a step forward and pain shot through his leg. While he was drawing power from the Web of Magic to cast his spells, he had forgotten about his wound and the pain that came from it. Now that he remembered that he had been struck by a crossbow bolt, the pain came back in a tremendous wave. His leg was soaked in blood, and he knew he would have to get it taken care of real soon, but first they needed to complete their assault. He just wished he could heal himself as he could heal others. With a cautious limp, he fell into step with the knights as they moved past the first door.

  With an expectation that the battle would continue into the castle, he was surprised as the knights calmly filed through the open area between the two gate doors. A bit of anxiety filled him as he followed, as he couldn’t take his eyes off the murder holes that lined either side of the walls.

  As he stepped through the open second door, a shout caught his attention. Sir Gossmire stood off the side and gave him a wave. With a grunt of pain, Hargon limped over to where Sir Gossmire was standing.

  “You are injured?” Sir Gossmire asked.

  “It is nothing.”

  Sir Gossmire absently touched his arm that had been broken and then healed. “Can you not heal yourself?”

  Hargon shook his head. “No. I cannot. Only others.”

  “You will need to get that taken care of. There is a lot of blood, and if you lose too much, you could die.”

  “Is there no one left to fight us?” Hargon asked, ignoring Sir Gossmire’s statement. There would be plenty of time to get himself bandaged up. First, he needed to make sure that the castle was secure. “This seems all wrong. It was too easy.”

  Sir Gossmire turned to look at the armed Thellians who had massed in the center of the courtyard. None of them looked ready or motivated to fight. None had so much as a sword drawn.

  “Their king left them,” Sir Gossmire said. “Took a back way out. With no leader, they lost all motivation to fight.”

  Hargon glanced up at the wall. “Those crossbowmen atop the wall were pretty motivated.”

  “Yes, but they did not know their king left them. Once word passed to them, they left their posts.”

  “So the castle is ours?”

  Sir Gossmire nodded his head and let out a long sigh. “Yes, it is ours. We need to get our people inside as quickly as possible. We can’t let them be caught outside when the goblin horde arrives.”

  “And you are sure their king left them? There isn’t a hidden army ready to attack us the moment we come in?”

  “We can, and should, search the castle, just to be sure. But look at them. They have no fight left. They are just as tired and cold as we are.”

  “There are not as many as I expected,” Hargon said, looking at the Thellians. Most of them looked at the ground, unsure what was about to happen to them.

  “Yes, but they could almost double our number atop the walls. We could use them when the goblins come.”

  “You would trust them?”

  Sir Gossmire hesitated as he turned to look at the small force of Thellians. “We either use them or kill them. They are not our enemy. King Toknon was. I think they would be willing to help defend their lives and the lives of our people. With the coming goblin horde, I’m not sure if we have the choice to trust them or not.”

  Hargon nodded his head in agreement. “Yes, you are right. Put them on the wall. And let’s get our people inside.”

  Sir Gossmire smiled at Hargon. “Our people?”

  Hargon let out a soft laugh. “Of course, our people. While you do that, I am going to search the castle to be sure this king of theirs is truly gone.”

  “Your leg?” Sir Gossmire asked. “You need it bandaged up.”

  Hargon looked down at it and let out a sigh. “Fine. But be quick about it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Gregarious grumbled at the sight of the brightening sky. The peaks of the mountain range covered the horizon where the sun had already made its appearance. To the south, the dark of night had turned a lighter blue as daylight was breaking over land that was not shadowed by the mountains. He had shed his disguise, as it had been a strain on his concentration while he wound his way eastward. If he came across any Human, they would certainly not take his appearance as friendly. Although he did not fear them attacking him, he feared them delaying him any further. The thought of ripping apart an unlucky traveler certainly appealed to him, but making time was more important. He had neither seen nor heard any sign of travelers, much less any sort of Human encampment. Occasionally the soft patter of hooves on the ground touched his ears, but he cared little for the animals of the mountains. Even the most vicious predator would run from his scent.

  With little to go on other than direction, he would have to rely on his sense of the Web of Magic to sniff out the Witch of the Mountain. If she were indeed in possession of the necklace that gives her infinite youthfulness, he would easily detect it. Killing the witch would be a tremendous joy, and he might even make her pain last longer than a few moments. If she were not in possession of it, then it would be easy enough for him to pull the information out of her. His pain threshold was non-existent, while a Human’s was so low, even one with the power of magic.

  With long strides to go along with the frenzied anticipation he felt inside, he followed the recently traveled path of the castle’s occupants. The trail was trampled and still a muddy, sloppy mess from the several hundred or so soldiers that had come this way. It had not taken him long to discern that the soldiers were not the native inhabitants, but he cared not at all where they cam
e from. He did find it fortunate, though, that they had given him a wide trail to follow.

  Moving quickly, he almost missed the tickle of magic that tapped the back of his mind. It was very faint and was nearly overwhelmed by his constant thoughts about the witch. He stopped in his tracks, clearing his mind of everything but his sense of the Web of Magic. It was clearly the Ark of Life that he felt or at least a shadow of it. Unfortunately, it was so faint that there was no way tell him which direction to go to find it. His only recourse would be to start walking one way. If his sense of the Ark of Life got stronger, then he would be going in the right direction. If it got weaker, obviously, he would need to go another way. It wasn't the most efficient way of tracking, but it was all he had until he was much closer to it.

  His ears heard nothing, not even the hint of an animal moving through the woods. After several minutes of being completely still, he continued forward with shortened strides to move as silently as he could. With three directions to choose from, he might as well choose the easy, well-established path that was right in front of him. With each step, he could feel the pull of the Ark of Life become just slightly stronger, and his heart began to beat harder with anticipation. His instincts of coming east had been right, and he knew that it would not be very long before he hung the necklace around his neck.

  After some time, the path made a wide, bending turn around densely packed woods and then started up a short hill. Just above the treeline, he could see the top of a stone structure. Battlements encircled the top, telling him that it was a military tower of some sort. Maybe an outpost or garrison of soldiers were waiting inside. If it were indeed a garrison of soldiers protecting the necklace, he hoped they would try and defend the tower vigorously. He licked his lips in anticipation.

  Keeping his eye on the top of the tower waiting for a lookout to spot him, he continued forward. Soon after he crested the top of the hill the trees gave way to an open field. The path turned to the north and continue for several miles through a narrow pass that led out of the mountains. He had not realized how far he had climbed up into the mountains until he looked to the north. The gap between the peaks exposed another mountain range far in the distance, almost at the edge of his vision. Halfway between the two mountain ranges was a town or city of some sort. He squeezed his eyes to try and see it more clearly, but it was too far away for even him to see if it was occupied. A smaller path overgrown with tall weeds continued straight on to the east. It likely hadn’t been used in years, for if not for his sharp eye, he would not even have noticed that it was a path.

  In the center of the field was the tower. It stood alone, sticking straight up into the sky. There was no evidence of a garrison. The grass in the field was long and flowing in the light breeze. He felt a slight sense of disappointment as he would not have to kill to gain the necklace. It was likely sitting in the tower at the bottom of some chest, its current owner unaware of the power that it gave.

  He had no doubt the necklace was in the tower. The tickle that he felt had grown steadily as he walked along the path, and continued to be even stronger as he walked through the tall grasses towards the tower. Ignoring everything around him, Gregarious marched forward to claim his prize.

  ***

  Myllia circled the tower at a height that made it just a speck of black against the green grass of the field it sat within. She had watched the two Humans go inside during the middle of the night and spent the rest of the night tucked into a dark corner of the forest, resting her wounds. As the sun began its creep above the horizon, she awoke and lifted into the air. She wanted to be high in the sky before they came out. The last thing she wanted to do was to alert them to her presence. In time, she would reveal herself, but only when she could kill Humans by the hundreds. She would take special pleasure in killing the one that got away from her, but killing hundreds would satisfy her anger much more than a single Human could.

  A tingle touched her nose, and she ignored it at first, thinking it was simply a mistake. She must have smelled something else that had a deathly scent, too. But when it came back and then persisted, she dipped her head so her one good eye could scan the ground.

  When her sight touched the ghastly form of the beast, she let out a low growl. It had been eons since she had last encountered a creature from the other side and the memory of those days was burned in her mind. Her hatred of Humans came because of their actions towards her and her kind. They had systematically hunted down her kind and killed nearly every one of her brethren. Only her and Immerallis remained. She could never forgive Humanity for that, and she would rejoice in each Human life she took. But the beast that was striding along a muddy path below her was an abomination to life itself. It was forged from evil and had no redeeming purpose in the world of the Creator. Humans were known to kill for no reason, but this creature found ultimate joy in destroying life. Its sole purpose for existing in the universe was to remove life from Earth and replace it with death.

  She pulled her wings close into her body and dove for the ground. Her wounded wing wasn’t completely healed, and it would cause great pain to slow her down from the speed she would attain, but it didn’t matter. She might only have once chance at it, and she couldn’t let it go. The death of Humans satisfied her own personal grudge. The death of this creature would help all the animals of the Creator’s domain become safer.

  The ground rushed at her as she aimed for the two-legged gray skinned creature. As she neared the point in which she needed to slow and stop her dive, she built up the fire inside her and let it loose right on top of it. Her wings spread wide, and she came to a slow stop, hovering just above it. She emptied the entire contents of her fire sack upon it.

  Gregarious felt the rush of air an instant before the liquid fire struck him. It sizzled his skin and sent waves of pain through him, but he did not fall down nor did he die. The bath of fire only invigorated him and drove his desire to kill to a new level. When the fire ceased, he looked up at the belly of a dragon and his rage grew. He extended his hands to show his long, thin, razor-sharp talons. Pulling from deep in his soul, he let out a roar that shook the ground. All around him, the grass was burnt black. His translucent skin was charred, but he was not damaged.

  “I was forged by the fires of hell!” Gregarious screamed at the dragon. “Your fires do nothing to me!”

  Myllia flapped her wings and began to fly around him, her good eye centered on Gregarious.

  In his head, Gregarious heard, “Let’s see how you handle being crushed in my jaws!”

  With a nearly impossible twist, Myllia turned in midair and dove back at Gregarious. He crouched low as the dragon came at him and dodged away from her sharp teeth as she swept by. With his inhuman quickness, his long talons scraped along her side, splitting scales in two, but not cutting into her skin.

  “You will not deny me the Ark of Life!” Gregarious screamed.

  Myllia had felt him rip into her scales, but they were thick enough that she was not injured. The scales were not like her wing, and they would not mend on their own. For the rest of her existence, she would have to live with the wound. Every time she would think of her split scales, she would be reminded of her utter hatred of this beast. The anger she felt intensified not only from being sliced by his razor sharp talons but also because her fire did not harm him one bit. There were other ways to kill, though. With a gracefulness that belied her size, she settled onto the ground and turned to face him. She was near the tower in the center of the field with her back to its open door. She felt a tingle of the Web of Magic and the shadow of the Ark of Life that came from the two Humans. She could not believe it was a coincidence that this creature was at this place at this time. She glanced briefly back at the tower, feeling a sudden ironic feeling that she was defending the life of two Humans from this abomination. But if it were to discover the Humans, it would not take much effort to get them to talk and reveal what they knew about the Ark of Life.

  “I care little for your trink
ets,” Myllia said, although she very much cared about the Ark of Life. Its presence with the Humans confused her, as she had known it was hidden eons before she was born. The thought of it in the Human’s hands disturbed her, but not as much as if it were in the hands of the creature that stood before her. If this creature got his talons on the necklace, then it would quickly be in the hands of the Deceiver. At least if the Humans had it, she would be able to rip it from their grasp while she killed them.

  “The Ark of Life is no trinket,” Gregarious growled, stepping forward. “Its power is from the Creator Himself. With that in our hands, we can rule the world. You can be on our side. On my side. We do not have to fight. We can join forces to rule the world.”

  “There is only one ruler of the world,” Myllia said. “And of the universe. The Creator rules all.”

  Gregarious let his lips grow into a wide, tooth-filled smile. “The Master believes you are with him. He will be disappointed to hear otherwise. I am sure the other dragon he has imprisoned will suffer his wrath as well. Whatever game you are playing with the Deceiver, it will not end well for you or your dragon friend. He will not take kindly to being deceived. If you stand aside, I will let you live, and I will say nothing to the Deceiver. You don’t even have to join in our army. You can live the rest of your existence as my slave, but I will let you live. Your species will still survive. However, if you do not move, I will kill you, and then your species will forever be gone from this world.”

  “There is already one beast that walks this Earth with the Ark of Life. That is one more than there should be. I will not let you have the other piece. This world is not for you. You can try and kill me, but this is my world, not yours. I will not let you walk away from this place. It is time for your abomination to go back to the hell that you came from.”