This is it. The beginning of the end.
♦ ♦ ♦
The Peaks were no more than a distant blur now. They looked so tiny and insignificant in the haze of the horizon. The army marched on behind Shaya. Three rows of soldiers on horseback, with four rows of men armed with swords and spears on foot behind them. Archers brought up the rear, their silver longbows strapped to their backs. To the left, the Saurian riding Boaruss warriors and to the right a mix of both Volanti and Boaruss soldiers. Flying high above them were Aesal and his scouts. Every so often two of them would speed into the distance ahead, watching out for potential ambushes.
The journey was long, it felt like they had been riding for days already, but it had only been a few seemingly endless hours. The constant trudging sound of hundreds of feet behind her was driving Shaya mad. She pulled the strap of her quiver down, it kept riding up her back, and the arrows were continually poking her in the back of her head. Benjin was on one side of their horse, with Elle on the other, both with stern expressions, their eyes darting all over, watching for any signs of danger. Another dull prod in the back of her neck, Shaya pulled the quivers strap down again and yanked out one of the arrows. She wanted to toss it away in irritation but decided against it, she would need every one of them.
“Why couldn’t you be the archer?” she said finally breaking the speechlessness of the journey.
“What?” Rowan seemed surprised by the sudden question.
“Why am I the archer? You’re better shot than I am.”
“Do you know how to ride a horse?” Rowan turned his head with a quizzical look.
“Kick it and say yarr?” she shrugged.
Rowan snorted a laugh “That is why you’re the archer.”
Shaya slid the arrow back into the leather quiver and began to fiddle with the strap. She didn’t even see Aesal float down until he spoke.
“My king,” he said. The Volanti was gliding right next to them, keeping pace with the king’s steed.
“What is it?” Rowan seemed to hesitate as if at first, he didn’t realise Aesal was addressing him.
“There is no sign of movement ahead my lord. However, we’ll soon be approaching the swamplands. Be on your guard, it will be difficult to spot an ambush in there.”
“Thank you Aesal.”
The Volanti scout rose back into the sky above.
“You might want to get your bow ready,” Rowan said, his eyes still fixed on the horizon.
The bow was strapped to the saddle, Shaya unclipped it, whipped out an arrow and readied it on the drawstring, just in case.
♦ ♦ ♦
Aesal was right, an ambush would be impossible to spot from the air, even with the Volanti’s excellent vision. It would be problematic enough to see it coming from the ground. As they got closer to the swamps, a layer of fog crept across the dead ashen grass, making it look as if everyone’s feet had disappeared and they were now gliding along a lake of whiteness. Thin, gangly trees stood rotten and decrepit all around. Shaya couldn’t tell if that was just what the swamp was like, or if it was a symptom of the corruption she had seen in Fylin Forest and Lake Corral. Each one of the dead trees creaked in the faintest of breezes. The eerie sounds kept everyone on guard. It was hard to navigate an army through the mire when no one could see what they were stepping on. There were reports of quicksand in the area, that would swallow a grown man whole. Shaya had visions of the horse beneath her suddenly disappearing without a trace and quickly being sucked into the earth below. Near-endless pools of foul-smelling stagnant water stretched out in every direction around them, they bubbled and groaned as if waking from a deep sleep.
“Can’t we go around this?” Shaya whispered, trying not to breathe through her nose.
“These swamps stretch for nearly fifteen miles,” Rowan whispered back “They completely surround the western shore on all sides. Believe it or not, this is our safest path.”
“It doesn’t look very safe,” Shaya muttered.
“Then imagine what the alternatives must look like. We’ll be through soon enough, the Minerva ruins lay on the other side. Beyond that-,”
“Rakmar,” Shaya finished.
They continued onwards for another few minutes until a voice spoke in a sharp whisper.
“Hold,” Elle raised her arm, and the company came to an abrupt halt. She stared into the distance. All Shaya could see was the thin layer of fog blanketing the ground, a dozen dead trees and some damp moss-covered rocks, but Elle had seen something else. Benjin quietly trotted his horse up to hers, not taking his eyes away from where Elle was gazing.
“What do you see?” he asked quietly.
“Not sure,” she whispered “Something, passed those trees,” she flicked her wrist and as if from nowhere, ten soldiers from Ki ran to the front, shields raised, spears readied. Rowan looked over at Elle, their eyes met “Stay behind them, your highness. We’re not alone.”
Elle’s soldiers marched ahead cautiously. Shaya was aware of Elle and Benjin’s sudden closeness, her horse was being sandwiched between theirs as they pressed on.
“I don’t like this,” Elle peered through the gloom in all directions “We’re spread too thin.”
She was right, there were pockets of soldiers spread out across the mire, unable to follow without being too far from the front. Most of the battalion had split off and were making their own way through the treacherous swamp. Nearly half an hour went by without a word. Elle’s guardsmen were on alert at the front. They were ready for anything to jump out from the disgusting water, the misty grounds or from behind the high rock formations and stone hills that sprouted out of the mud.
The tension in the stagnant air rose as they were forced down a passageway with rock faces on both sides, blocking their view of the rest of the army. Shaya craned her head backwards. There were probably less than a hundred soldiers behind them, not even half of their full force. The swamp’s putrid waters lined the pathway in large pools, hissing and bubbling away. There was no way of telling how deep it was, the liquid was almost black, with a sickly green layer of gunk floating on the surface. The silence was pounding in Shaya’s ears as the mist grew higher, the soldiers in front now seemed to be legless bodies floating down the passageway like ghosts.
Shaya remembered the creatures in the poisoned woods. Their eyeless faces and long bony arms. As they silently marched on, she could feel the hairs on the back on her neck stand up as she imagined their long gangly fingers reaching for her from behind.
A splash rang out behind her. Shaya’s heart lurched, and she spun around to see a soldier reach down into the fog and heave another to his feet. He was soaking wet, looking down at his hidden feet, embarrassed as a few of the other men chuckled at him. Shaya looked over at Elle who had turned with her sword raised.
“Idiot,” breathed Elle shaking her head and lowering her blade.
Where it came from she couldn’t tell, but Shaya felt a chill run through her whole body when she heard the first terrified scream. It was cut short suddenly, leaving an echoing silence. A second cry cut through the air followed by a splash of water.
“To arms,” roared Elle as she frantically searched for the sounds.
A third scream, much louder, much closer. Shaya swore she saw something in the corner of her eye. Before she could say anything, something smashed into her horse, and she was falling through the air. She hit the ground and rolled just missing the stomping hooves of Elle’s black stallion. Quickly she bounded to her feet and pulled her new sword Valour from its sheaf. The mist was swirling in all the commotion, like a vortex of white smoke. She caught a glimpse of something thrashing around on the floor, she couldn’t tell what it was until she heard Elle’s frantic cry.
“Your majesty. Your majesty where are you?” she yelled.
Shaya immediately bolted for the movement on the misty ground. Then she saw it, just for a second, but it was enough. Rowan lay on his back, and something black and lizard-like on top of
him, something sharp in one clawed hand, the other clasped around the young king’s throat. With a violent thrust, Valour pierced the skin of the creature, and she managed to push it off Rowan with her boot. Rowan grabbed her outstretched hand and clambered to his feet, breathless.
With a gasping breath, he thanked her as he rubbed his neck. Benjin came to their side and leapt off his horse, broadsword in hand.
“Stay close you two,” he barked.
Snarls of creatures and screams of soldiers rang out all around them. Shaya stepped backwards and nearly fell straight into the steaming swamp water. Above them, she saw silhouettes of creatures standing on all fours atop the rock faces. One by one they began to jump down, arms outstretched all teeth and claws. A soldier next to Shaya was grabbed from behind and pulled into the swamp water with a gasped scream. Something quick jumped into the air towards them, Benjin smashed it away with his sword, and it lay dead on the floor. They were Krarg or at least a close relation. Jet black, thinner and smaller than the Krarg Shaya had been fighting. They wore no armour, just carried razor-sharp daggers made of black steel. Their tails were long and thin, with spikes that ran from the tip all the way up their spines to the back of their heads.
“The others are being attacked,” shouted a Volanti soldier as he sliced a lizard with his spear.
It was true, Shaya could hear the screams and cries of the other platoons being ambushed somewhere out in the endless mire.
“We can’t help them now,” Benjin roared “Keep fighting.”
The Volanti scouts swooped down at high speed, knocking some of the creatures off their feet or sending them smashing into the rocks. Shaya saw Aesal pick some up in his vice-like clawed feet and drop them from great heights.
A black shape crawled with terrifying speed up the side of the rock face to Shaya’s right and launched itself into the air.
“Move,” Benjin pushed Elle backwards. The warrior women stumbled and fell on her back as the grotesque creature flew over her and crashed into Shaya’s uncle. Shaya could smell its breath even from where she stood, it was worse than the swamp. Its jaws were snapping viciously at Benjin’s neck as it clawed at his breastplate. Shaya lifted her sword and was about to strike when a lightning fast slash cut through the lizard’s back as Ellesia came to the rescue. It howled like a twisted wolf, and suddenly it was being lifted into the air. Benjin had the furious beast by the throat. He squeezed, it fell.
“Are you alright?” Elle and Shaya said at the same time, exchanging surprised glances.
“Fine,” Benjin said looking around for the next attack.
Rowan pulled his blade out of another black lizards gut and joined the others.
The clinking of steel and the sounds of battle died down as the fray seemed to be over.
“Your Highness, are you hurt?” Elle asked as she sheaved her bloodied blade. Rowan dusted himself off and shook his head.
“Report,” Elle shouted. Shaya looked down at her weapon and was annoyed to see her lovely gift covered in black blood. With a hanky from her pocket, she wiped it off until the beautiful silver could be seen again.
“Commander,” a Tetran soldier jogged towards Ellesia “We lost Arrog, Kallel and Bryss,” she said with a heavy sigh.
“And Messi and Kaliban,” shouted another soldier.
“Damn it,” Elle barked angrily.
Aesal floated down and landed next to the king.
“Sire” he panted “The scouts, and I took out any stragglers. However, we may have lost some in the fog.”
“You lost one?” Elle snapped.
“I’m sorry, commander, we lost sight of them.”
“It’s alright Aesal, an ambush was always a possibility,” said Rowan “Find out how many we’ve lost, check with the other parties and try and find a place for us to regroup.”
“Right away my king,” Aesal shot back up into the air in a black blur of feathers.
“Let’s get out of this foul place,” Rowan said as he jumped back onto his horse.
♦ ♦ ♦
Finally, after another hour, the whole battalion was back together. All the soldiers stood in a vast open area on the outskirts of the swamp. The fog was light, nothing more than a few white wisps on the breeze. Shaya had missed the breeze as they had made their way through the mire. Rowan, Elle, Ortuskuss, Aesal, Sir Gregordon and Madam Quinzel all stood in a semi-circle away from the rest of the troops. They talked in hushed voices, periodically pointing this way and that way while consulting a map.
“What are they talking about?” Shaya asked arms crossed, slightly annoyed that she had not been included in the meeting.
“Likely tallying the dead, planning how to navigate Minerva,” Benjin muttered as he too stood arms folded. Shaya gazed around, she could feel the soldiers getting restless behind her. Archers and Volanti scouts stood on rocks and atop trees, surrounding the army, keeping a watchful eye.
A few minutes later, they were back on their now slightly nervous horses and continued east towards the remnants of Minerva. Shaya asked Rowan how many people they had lost. Reluctantly he had told her. Twelve humans, seven Volanti and two Boaruss. Twenty-one dead, and they hadn’t reached the main battle yet. That skirmish was nothing compared to what awaited them. The soon to be king said that the creatures were likely left by the Krarg as scouts and that Aesal had confirmed that they had lost at least two in the fog, heading towards the ruins.
♦ ♦ ♦
Shaya could only imagine what Minerva looked like before the disaster. She pictured tall stone buildings that reached high into the sky nearly touching fluffy white clouds. Beautiful decorative fountains in the squares. Shops and taverns bustling with people. Laughter and idle chatter filling the endless maze of streets. Young and old, from every corner of the kingdom, people would flock to the great city. A true marvel, something that would have taken her breath away.
Now it was very different from the idyllic images in her mind. The floor was littered with stone, glass and steel. Piles of rubble that used to be someone's home were scattered around everywhere. Few buildings still stood, the ones that did were blackened by fire and no more than empty, burnt husks. Nature had reclaimed the city. Moss and vines covered almost everything, but no flowers bloomed. Thick dark green tendrils wrapped around the rubble and sprouted from broken windows. The place was silent except for the whistling of the breeze as it blew through the desolate streets. Shaya felt a dull pain shoot through her heart as she thought about the countless people who had been there when the meteor hit. Rakmar’s first victims. Her heart seemed to nearly crumble when she thought of how Bastion must have looked just like the ghost town she found herself in.
Time seemed to freeze as they slowly marched through the city. Hundreds of footsteps echoed as they walked across the scorched cobbled roads, but not a single word was uttered. The soldiers were as silent as the dead that cowered in their devastated homes. Every one of them hung their heads low and kept their eyes on the ground. As if not looking at the devastation held Minerva’s fate in myth. Nothing more than a legend of a dead city. An old tale was easier to stomach than it was to walk the ravaged streets. The whole place was one crumbled ruin, all these years later, it still smelt like fire, and death.
“It’s too quiet,” Rowan whispered almost to himself.
“What do you mean?” Shaya asked.
“We expected another ambush here. I mean it’s perfect, there could be archers hiding in any one of these abandoned buildings.”
“Sounds like you’re upset that we’re not being shot at.”
“Don’t be daft. Somethings not right,” he muttered, “Where are they?”
The Volanti scouts soared soundlessly above the wreckage. Shaya watched as Aesal shot forward, keeping low to the tops of the decaying buildings and disappeared out of sight. The grey skies above grew darker as they marched. It had only been eight or maybe nine hours since they left the peaks so it couldn’t have been later than mid-afternoon, but the du
ll clouds seemed to blacken as if it were nearing nightfall.
The western side of town took the brunt of the devastation all those years ago as it overlooked the shore. The army headed for the north side of the city. It was a longer route, less direct, but that meant that maybe the enemy wouldn’t expect it. Shaya wasn’t happy about the extra time spent in the ruins. She found herself wanting to run as fast as she could out of the dreaded place. Whatever lay beyond, couldn’t be as bad as walking through the crumbling graveyard.
Shaya closed her eyes and bowed her head. Without thinking, she quietly spoke out loud. It wasn’t something she often did, in fact, Shaya couldn’t remember the last time she had done so, but the sudden urge to pray gripped her. The Goddess may be gone, lost to the endless void, but Shaya hoped beyond hope that the great deity would hear her, somehow.
“Oh Goddess I implore you,” Shaya began in an almost soundless whisper. “Take care of the lost souls of this place. If any wandering spirits remain, please show them your light and guide them home.”
The sound of someone else’s whispering reached Shaya’s ears, and she opened her eyes. To her surprise, Ellesia was holding a pendant between her fingers and speaking softly. After she was finished, the warrior woman lightly kissed the necklace, tucked it back into her armour, and wiped a single tear from her cheek. Shaya looked around and realised that many of the soldiers behind her were doing the same. Some clasped their hands together and muttered to themselves. Others clung desperately to talismans with shaking hands. Some of the Volanti spread their wings and chanted soundlessly. Many of the Boaruss crossed their massive arms and bowed their heads. Rowan prayed in a hushed whisper in front of Shaya his gaze still fixed on the streets beyond. Even Benjin sat atop his horse, fingers interlocked in front of his lips, eyes staring up at the darkening sky above.
What they all were praying for, Shaya didn’t know, but at that moment, in their grief, in their hopes and fears, they were all one.
The Shattered Moon (A Divine Legacy Book 1) Page 32