He quickly started to back up towards Starria who was a good fifty feet behind him.
"Starria come to me, we need to get out of here," he called urgently over his shoulder. Starria had her eyes firmly fixed on the manticores and screeched again, but seemed reluctant to come towards him. Farrel had not really taken the time to contemplate what a griffin might be afraid of, but apparently manticores were on that list.
There was no way he was going to be able to cover the distance between them before the manticores reached him. Trying to stay calm he stopped and went down on one knee so he could place the palms of both his hands flat onto the ground.
"Sands and soil beneath my feet a moving wall of earth you must make!" He spoke the words of the earth spell loudly and firmly then raised his palms up from the ground briefly before slamming them down again heavily into the soil.
Keeping both hands firmly against the ground he willed the earth to move at his command. A sudden wall of dirt and rock thrust up from the ground in front of the charging manticores and rolled towards them like a wave. The rear most manticores and their riders were crushed under the wave of earth as it crashed over them. However the three at the front of the pack were able to leap over it before it could rise high enough to stop them.
Farrel focused his mind and tried to raise another wall of earth, but the remaining three manticores were too fast, their riders too skilled and they managed to leap over his second wall just like the first.
In seconds they were going to be on top of him so he quickly grabbed a handful of the soil in his right hand while keeping his left firmly upon the ground. He squeezed the handful of soil as hard as he could until his fingernails were digging painfully into his palms.
"Golem rise from the ground and be my shield!" he ordered as he hurled the lump of dirt towards the oncoming manticores. They were now less than twenty yards away from him when the clump of dirt landed between them and Farrel. As soon as the clump touched the ground the soil beneath it stirred and started to morph into a giant earth golem.
The golem was almost eight feet tall and half as wide. It was vaguely human in its shape except it was faceless and had no neck; its head merging directly onto its body. It had no mouth and made no sound as it stood unmoving in front of the charging manticores until they reached it.
The riders tried to simply dodge around it, but the golem was surprisingly fast and had a very long reach. It swung its powerful arms as it surged at the manticores and managed to knock one down while grabbing a second in its huge dirt hand.
It then proceeded to pound the manticore in its grasp like it was mashing a potato. It was relentless in its silent pursuit. Farrel did not notice however, because the third manticore had managed to slip by and was now leaping at him with its sharp lion claws and teeth intent on tearing him to pieces.
Farrel cursed his arrogance and stupidity as he closed his eyes and waited for the end to come. Then suddenly there was a ferocious screech from above him and Starria smashed into the manticore and its rider. Farrel opened his eyes to see Starria slashing away with her own claws as well as pecking and tearing at the manticore with her sharp eagle's beak.
Although the rider was now dead the manticore was fighting back ferociously. Farrel quickly turned the golem onto the last beast and it wrapped a trunk like arm around the manticore's neck until it had crushed the life out of it. However, not before the manticore had managed to strike Starria with its deadly scorpion tail.
Starria reared back and squawked in agony from the strike. With the final manticore dead Farrel took his hand from the ground and the golem dissolved back into the plain as though it had never existed. Farrel ran to Starria, who was still squawking madly, and grabbed her firmly by the feathers on her neck and pulled her head down towards him.
"If you want to live you need to get us back to the camp!"
She started to sway and continued to squawk as the poison started to take effect, but she appeared to understand and dropped to her belly so he could mount her.
She leapt into the air and started towards the camp, but her wings faltered and she dropped back to the ground after just a few feet and stumbled forwards unsteadily as though she was drunk.
Farrel looked back at the enemy army and it was now slowly moving forwards in a very disciplined formation.
"Starria, you have to fly! Please!" yelled Farrel desperately. Starria responded by jumping unsteadily and weakly into the air and flying haphazardly back to the camp. She had just enough sense to clear the heads of the king's men when her strength gave out completely and she dropped to the ground in an undignified crash landing at the outer edge of the camp.
Farrel was flung off her back as she rolled over. He was badly winded, but ignored the pain and jumped quickly to his feet.
"Raamen! Raamen!" he yelled frantically.
Behind him the king's army was making itself ready to meet the onslaught of the enemy.
A minute later Raamen came running up to Farrel. Starria had now collapsed and her breathing was now rapid and shallow.
"She has been poisoned by a manticore! Do whatever it takes to save her! I don't care if it takes the blood of the king to make your healing potion, do not let her die!"
Farrel did not wait for a response from Raamen and charged back out onto the plain. He looked frantically up and down the lines to find Solomon, but could not locate him. He was frustrated that he could not stop the coming bloodshed and when he was frustrated he became angry, very angry.
#
Solomon stood calmly in the front line with the rest of the conscripts. Between himself and Tobias they had managed to get their men in good order, the same could not be said for the rest of the volunteers in their section of the line.
"Look at the size of their army! They have to outnumber us ten to one!" said Kasa fearfully.
"Shut it boy!" snapped Tobias to his left.
"If you want to live fight as one and protect each other just the way we practiced," shouted Solomon confidently.
"In truth I don't know how Lord Cortria plans to win this fight," mumbled Tobias into Solomon's ear.
"Look at the length of their lines. They can outflank us at will. Lord Cortria is smart having us on the flanks," replied Solomon quietly. "If he stands any hope of winning this battle he is going to need to bleed the enemy before they reach his regulars. Perhaps then when he charges with his knights on their war horses it won't be an act of suicide."
"And we supply the bleeding..." nodded Tobias with a long sigh. At that point Farrel swooped down between the two armies on Starria and the entire army erupted in cheers.
"Not if the Crimson Wizard has anything to do with it we won't," replied Solomon with a sliver of hope in his voice.
"For the sake of the realm I hope you are correct," replied Tobias.
"If you turn back this army all on your own Farrel I will forgive you for everything you have made me endure," thought Solomon as he watched Farrel dismount and stride defiantly towards the enemy lines.
His hope was quickly dashed along with the rest of the king's army and it took all his willpower to stop himself from leaving the lines and running to Farrel's aid as the manticores approached.
Solomon was forced to drag his mind away from worrying about Farrel as various horns sounded along the line. He looked out across the plain to see that the enemy army was finally marching towards them. It would soon be time to regain his honour or die trying.
The enemy formations were tight and their movement forwards was well coordinated. They were clearly well trained and battle hardened troops. As they slowly approached Solomon could see for the first time that the soldiers were a mixture of men and women and all had the same olive skin complexion. The stories that they were from a sun drenched land across the great western ocean appeared to hold some merit it seemed.
It was not just their skin colour that was different. Their armor and their shields were all of similar design and appeared to look more lightweig
ht than those he was used to seeing. Their weapon of choice seemed to be either a long sharp two handed spear or long curved scimitars with vicious serrated blades.
The enemy did not seem to have any cavalry, however they did have the manticores and their riders who carried short bows designed to be fired on the move.
As the enemy drew ever closer Solomon could also make out several chariots following slowly behind the main army. The chariots were pulled not by horses, but by orcs! The chariot riders were thin and tall and wore heavy robes and hoods.
"By all Umijia..." muttered Solomon as he rested his sword hand on the hilt of his sword to try and calm himself ready for battle.
"What is it? What do you see?" asked Tobias squinting towards the enemy lines. Solomon drew his sword and shouted loudly down the line for all his men to do the same.
"I envy you your eyes right now old man because you really do not want to know."
#
Farrel stood on the light rise in amongst the rows of archers so that he had a commanding view of the battlefield as the two armies closed upon each other. There was a shout to his left as an archer captain relayed Lord Cortria's order to open fire.
The archers released their arrows and they arced across the sky. As soon as they were released the enemy army stopped its march and the front lines dropped to their knees and crouched behind their shields. At the same time the second row of men placed their shields above their heads and quickly interlocked with the front row of soldiers to form a shield wall that was very effective at negating the hail of arrows from finding their mark.
Farrel seethed as he looked down on the approaching army.
"So much senseless death and destruction and they wonder why I dedicated my life to my quest," he thought angrily. "If it is death and destruction that you crave then that is what you shall receive!"
Farrel pulled a small vial of water from a hidden pocket inside his robes and poured it onto his hands then rubbed them together vigorously. As he did so he chanted the words of a water spell.
"This water upon my hands, vaporise and rise into the air. Form first a cloud and then a storm and let lightening strike with each clap."
The water on his hands started to first turn to mist then into a cloud. The cloud grew quickly and floated higher into the sky as it drew more water from the atmosphere and continued to expand as it went. Soon it was fifty feet above him and had started to turn black.
Moments later the first flash of lightening appeared to jump from one part of the cloud to another. He closed his eyes to focus his mind again as he started to rub his hands together even faster. Then suddenly he stopped and clapped loudly and sharply.
As he did so lightening arced down from the storm cloud and smashed into the ground in a flash of purple brilliance right in the middle of the enemy army. Enemy soldiers were flung in all directions within a ten foot radius of the strike, many of them dead and the rest badly burned.
Once again the enemy stopped to form their shield wall in reaction to another volley of arrows that had just been loosed. While the shields held back the arrows yet again they were no match for another lightening strike as he clapped his hands sharply again and another handful of men perished instantly.
For a few moments there appeared to be some confusion within the centre of the enemy army at the point where they had taken the brunt of Farrel's attack. However they soon recovered and were methodically moving forwards again. Farrel threw down several more lightening strikes each having the same effect and each creating a small hole in the enemies lines that was quickly filled by troops in the rows behind.
The longer he held the spell in place the more concentration and energy it required to sustain it. It quickly became too much for him and he had to release it. It was a moot point however, as the two armies were now so close together that he risked hitting the king's troops if he continued.
Farrel watched in despair as the front lines of both armies clashed in a wave of battle cries. The clang of swords and spears against shields and armour was quickly followed by the inevitable screams that pierced the air when metal met flesh.
His hand went instinctively into another hidden pocket and clasped firmly around a small vial of lamp oil he kept there. He squeezed it as his anger grew at the sight of the battle and the carnage it created. It was tempting to put a swift end to it all, but he quickly dismissed the idea and dropped the vial back inside his pocket.
The fighting had only been going for a few minutes and despite a valiant charge from Lord Cortria's knights the king's army was already being pushed back and outflanked. It would all be over quickly and tragically if he did not do something. He bent down and carefully picked a single blade of grass. It was time for some fairy magic!
Farrel was the only human to have ever been allowed into the Bastion, a secret place deep within the southern forests where fairy magic was taught. There, thanks to Poppin, he had been given the unique opportunity to study and become a master.
It had given him a whole new perspective on magic and nature. Of course like all fairy magic it was never meant to be used in the action of harming others. He thought briefly of Poppin and her melodious voice and smiled. He wondered what she would think of all this senseless killing. He was sure she would not have approved of what he planned to do next.
Farrel squeezed the blade of grass between his index finger and his thumb and rubbed his digits back and forth so that the blade of grass twisted between them. He sang the words of a fairy spell in the ancient fairy tongue.
As he did so he could feel the life energy of the grass out on the plain. He could feel its willingness to bend gently with the wind, the firmness by which its roots clung to the soil and its pain as it was crushed underfoot by armor clad soldiers. He sensed its sorrow as their blood dripped down upon it from the wounds of men and beast alike.
He connected to that life force and bent it to his will. Suddenly beneath the feet of the enemy soldiers the grass snaked up and wrapped around their ankles, entangling them, quickly making any type of movement clumsy and cumbersome.
With their movement being ever increasingly impeded the enemy's drive forward came to a halt and in some places they were even pushed back. If one could not move one could not properly defend themselves and that rapidly began to show as the enemy's losses quickly mounted.
Realising the gravity of their situation the mysterious chariot riding hooded figures, who seemed to be controlling the army from its rear echelons, signalled for their army to retreat.
It was no rout, the enemy soldiers hacked at the grass that held them and pulled back in the same orderly fashion as they had come forward. Lord Cortria seeing the folly of pursuit also withdrew his men back to the edge of the plain.
Farrel dropped the blade of grass and half sat half fell to the ground, mentally exhausted.
#
"Stay close to each other, block first then swing hard!" yelled Solomon loudly, his voice carrying easily above the battle cries of the approaching enemy who had now broken into a charge.
Solomon braced himself for the oncoming human wave. As the lines of soldiers came together Solomon surged forward violently, deflecting an oncoming spear with his shield. He then immediately followed up with a thrusting stab that penetrated up under the now exposed left underarm of his foe, that was caused by the deflection of the spear.
He quickly extracted his blade and pivoted in the one motion so he could slash downwards across the back of another enemy soldier who was in the process of trying to spear Tobias in the chest.
He then quickly turned back towards the enemy's line as two more spearmen pushed forward to take the place of the fallen. This time his opponent was a woman. She was a head shorter than him and the olive skin of her arms and legs bristled with lean hard muscle. Her curly dark hair was cut short, but still managed to escape from under her helmet. Her face was hard and cold yet bordering on beautiful.
Solomon hesitated for a moment. In Risandea, with th
e notable exception of his cousin Gabrielle, women did not bear arms so he had never been in battle against a woman before. His sense of chivalry was quickly overwhelmed by the sound of battle around him and the spear that she was thrusting towards his chest.
Solomon deflected the blow by reflex alone. The woman moved much quicker and more fluidly than his first opponent so his moment of indecision allowed her to dodge his counter blow. His mind finally caught up with his body and he intentionally fell back a few steps and let her over extend on her second attempt to skewer him. This time he pushed down with his shield as he deflected her spear which forced its sharp end into the ground.
Once again she recovered quickly, but not quick enough and Solomon was able to smash the spear from her hands with his sword. He looked into her dark brown eyes expecting to see fear, instead he saw fierce determination as she quickly drew a long curved dagger from her belt and launched at him again.
Something inside would not allow him to run her through so instead he stepped inside her plunging dagger strike and smashed her hard in the face with his shield. The blow knocked her out and most likely broke her jaw.
He turned yet again to face the enemy directly only to see even more soldiers filling the gaps of the fallen. He quickly glanced along his own line. To his left Tobias and Faolan were managing to hold their ground. However, to his right several of the other conscripts were already dead or dying and that section of the line was being pushed back. Even further out towards the flanks he could see the enemy were manoeuvring to try and get in behind them. If they managed that it would be a slaughter.
"Close the gaps and fall back!" ordered Solomon as he too started to step backwards cautiously whilst blocking another attacker and slashing back to keep them at bay. That was when he noticed Kasa standing petrified in place as chaos swirled around him.
Solomon threw out his shield arm to block a sword blow from one of the scimitar wielding foot soldiers. The blow was hard and Solomon felt the shock in his forearm right though his shield and his arm brace.
Visions of Magic - Invasion Page 5