Kings and Daemons

by Marcus Lee

  ‘Perhaps this could help?’ thought Taran, projecting his question toward Rakan.

  ‘I swear I just heard you say …’ started Rakan.

  ‘Perhaps this could help,’ Taran finished for him.

  Rakan’s mouth fell open. ‘So, not only has Maya’s gift returned, but you can make people hear your thoughts. This will give us a chance, but we don’t have much time, so let’s plan as much as we are able, for our very lives depend on it!’

  With that, they huddled close, ideas flowing between them, as they sought a way to avoid death.

  -----

  Brandon awoke with a headache like none he’d ever experienced before and cursed loudly.

  He opened his eyes and swallowed back the bile in his throat. Why was it so light outside? He should have been called for watch duty in the early hours, and here he was waking up past dawn. He sat up fast, then fought against being sick as he looked around the room, to see seven of his men still fast asleep.

  None of them had drunk much last night, just a few sips of heavily watered wine until the three fugitives had gone to their cabins. He’d then set two Rangers to guard them, and they should have been replaced twice since then, including once by him.

  His heart was racing as he jumped from his bunk to rouse his men. He had to shake them to even get them to stir. We must have been given sleep weed, he thought, and the only people serving food or wine were Laska’s men or, his granddaughter, who seemed to have set her eyes on Taran.

  Looking out the window, he was relieved to see the sun had only just cleared the horizon, so even if Laska had been stupid enough to let them go early, they wouldn’t have gone far, and their blood would wet his blade before midday. He smiled grimly. Once they had spilt the blood of the three fugitives, he would brighten his day by slaughtering that old fool Laska, and his granddaughter too for good measure. It wasn’t part of his orders, but he’d justification enough, and Daleth would be sure to accept his decision under the circumstances.

  His men had all readied themselves, so he opened the door to their room, and they all followed Brandon, quiet as death, as they crossed the upper floor of the great hall toward Laska’s chambers.

  A guard spied them coming and saved his own life without knowing it by bowing low. ‘Lord Laska, if you’re looking for him, left a short while ago on some urgent duty and has yet to return,’ he volunteered.

  Brandon looked across to one of his men, Dantal, who nodded in response. Dantal had a gift as a truth-seer and had confirmed the man’s word as such.

  They turned and descended into the hall, noting the absence of the majority of Laska’s retinue, as only servants were present, clearing up from the revelry of the night before.

  Anger rose within Brandon, but he quashed it. Anger clouded judgement, and he couldn’t afford the luxury. He needed to find out what had happened to his other men, find Laska, find the fugitives, then spill a lot of blood.

  They strode out of the hall, their pace quickening. He didn’t need to say anything to his men now; they’d trained together for most of their lives. They spread out as they moved into the settlement, heading east toward the cabins. People who saw them coming slunk into doorways, or moved out of their way, for the menace surrounding the Rangers was almost physical. Brandon relished the power he felt as he noted the fear in the eyes of all who looked his way.

  It wasn’t long before the clearing that led to the captive’s cabins came in sight. The cabins had been chosen at his insistence because the dead ground surrounding these two buildings would offer no cover for concealment or escape.

  Brandon stopped unable to believe what lay before him.

  Somehow the girl's gift had returned, but not only that, she must have used it throughout the night, for what was once a muddy clearing, was now a field of grass waving in the wind. The two cabins looked as if they were woven from living trees, and the mountainside against which they sat was covered in purple ferns. A small stand of withered saplings had been nearby, but now they stood tall and strong, branches laden with leaves, no sign of decay or rot.

  Amongst the trees, Laska stood with his granddaughter Yana, his men-at-arms, and a half dozen crossbowmen.

  Brandon was also relieved to see his own two men standing watch over the cabin. He waved them over, and as they approached him, they dropped their heads in shame.

  ‘The fugitives are still in their cabins,’ a Ranger called Sabeth reported. ‘But,’ and he paused, ‘we fell asleep last night.’ They knelt, fully expecting their lives to be forfeit.

  Brandon motioned for them to rise. ‘I believe we were all given sleep weed. You did not fail in your duty. This day we not only rid our king of these fugitives, but it’s time to rid this world of Laska and his granddaughter as well.’ As he looked at Laska, considering whether to kill the old fool and Yana first, the door to one of the cabins opened, and Maya, Taran, and Rakan came out.

  His eyes narrowed, and he called upon his gift, realising now that the drug must have broken his hold over the two youngsters. He saw Maya’s hand go to her temple and Taran’s brow furrow. This was going to be a good day.

  He would have preferred to pull them kicking and screaming from their beds, and had dreamed of killing the girl slowly, opening her throat, so Taran could watch as her life drained in front of his eyes. His other thought had been to set light to the cabins, just to hear them burn to death inside. But maybe just butchering everyone here quickly, then getting back in the saddle and riding from this wretched place as soon as possible, would be as pleasurable a way to start the day as any.

  The girl was leaning on a wooden staff as Brandon moved toward them, and he was surprised when Taran and Rakan stopped while Maya walked several steps further ahead. She pointed the staff at Brandon, and he was surprised and even slightly impressed when her gaze met his without flinching.

  ‘I challenge you to single combat,’ she called out, her voice loud and unwavering. ‘The Witch-King is weak, his soldiers are weak, and the Rangers the weakest of them all!’

  Brandon stopped, but only because he suddenly found himself laughing, a sound that was echoed by his men behind him. ‘Oh, girl,’ he said, ‘I applaud your bravery, I truly do. I might have half expected it from the old man or even the young one, but you seem to be the one with the stones, not them. I have to thank you. You’ve no idea how bad a mood I was in, but this day is quickly getting a lot better. I accept! I’ve no idea how so many of my brothers came to fall in this hunt, but this game ends here, and it ends now.’

  Brandon put a hand to the hilt of his sword and beckoned Maya toward him. ‘Do you know that there are no more than two men that I know of, that can beat me in combat, only two. One of them is the Witch-King himself, and the other a devil he keeps alongside him.’ He moved confidently closer, sliding his feet through the grass.

  ‘Good thing I’m a woman then,’ hissed Maya, as she stepped two paces forward, swinging her wooden staff at Brandon’s head.

  He laughed dismissively and caught the clumsy blow with ease, then pulled the staff and Maya toward him while he reached for his dagger, intending to gut her. This had been too easy, he thought. Hopefully the other two would put up a better fight.

  Then he heard a piercing scream.

  The last thought that crossed Brandon’s mind was that if the girl’s eyes were glowing so bright, why was it getting so dark?

  -----

  A little earlier Taran had managed to communicate with Laska right under the noses of the two Rangers. The shock on the old man’s face as Taran had projected his thoughts was readable even from a distance, and Laska’s men had looked on in consternation as he’d steadied himself against a tree as Taran put across their plan.

  Laska listened but had specific ideas of his own. He insisted that Maya prove not only her gift once again, but more importantly, that she would put herself at the same risk she was asking of Laska and his men before he made any move against the Rangers.

  After discussing
it with Rakan and Maya, and realising there was no other way despite the danger to Maya, Taran had agreed on their behalf.

  Now Taran, along with everyone else, looked on in shocked silence for several heartbeats, before violence erupted all around.

  Maya had just proved herself.

  The staff that Brandon caught so easily, had, in the blink of an eye, sent roots burrowing into his hand, along his arm, then throughout his body before finding purchase in the soil at his feet. His body was torn apart from the inside. As his scream died away, there were a few moments when everyone just watched in disbelief, but then everything happened at once.

  Maya, as Rakan and Taran feared might happen, stood there in numb shock at what she’d just done. Taran ran forward as did Rakan. Rakan grabbed Brandon’s sword and then tossed Taran a dagger as they took up guard position between Maya and the now remaining Rangers.

  The remaining nine Rangers surged toward Maya, Taran, and Rakan, intent on avenging their commander as well as meting out their king’s justice.

  ‘Now,’ screamed Laska, whereupon his six bowmen raised their weapons, and shot at the unsuspecting Rangers.

  Two Rangers were flung from their feet as the heavy bolts hit them, but once fired, the crossbows took a long time to reload, so the dozen men-at-arms closed to engage. Six Rangers, over the initial shock of this surprise betrayal, turned toward the threat of Laska’s men at their flank, while one sprinted toward Rakan, Taran and Maya.

  ‘Come on then you whoreson!’ screamed Rakan, moving to meet the Ranger as Taran circled to the side, but Rakan felt confident for they knew what to do. When he’d heard of Taran’s new skill, he came up with an idea for Taran to share his thoughts and intentions, so that when they fought alongside the other, they fought as if with but one mind.

  Taran stepped forward and lunged, and Rakan knew before the movement even started. The Ranger turned to parry even as Rakan’s blade scored his side in the same instant.

  The Ranger was individually far more talented than the both of them, yet their coordination was near perfect. They exchanged a dozen blows, maybe more, and while Taran received numerous cuts, none were serious, and the Ranger died quickly, Rakan’s blade deep in his heart.

  There had been a dozen men-at-arms, and while skilful, they were now down to just four men, and Rakan could see they were not going to be able to stop the Rangers for much longer. The vulnerable crossbowmen who were still reloading would then be slaughtered, and all hope would die with them. Laska was backing away from the bloodshed in front of him, his sword held weakly out in front as he pushed Yana behind him.

  Two of the Rangers spun away now that the outcome with the men-at-arms was no longer in doubt, and headed toward Rakan and Taran.

  Rakan turned to Maya, and shouted above the din of clashing blades and the screams of Laska’s men, as the Rangers blades found their way into flesh. ‘We need you, Maya. You need to slow the Rangers. Do you hear me?’ But there was no response.

  ‘Make her listen, lad,’ Rakan implored of Taran. ‘Those bowmen need just a little more time, and if they don’t get it, we’re dead, all of us. You and I can’t fight two Rangers and live.’

  Taran looked into Maya’s eyes, but she was shaking like a leaf and unresponsive. So instead of shouting at her, he reached out quickly with his gift. He tried to soothe her with his thoughts and projected his desperate and immediate need for her to protect him.

  Where Rakan’s shouting had failed, the moment Maya felt Taran was in danger, her eyes focused. She sank to the ground, her eyes glowing fiercely as she looked at the two Rangers, who slowed, approaching cautiously. Beyond them, the other Rangers had killed all but two of the men-at-arms, who were frantically doing all they could to stay alive a few moments longer.

  Her hands pushed into the soil, and suddenly, as had happened with Darkon and Lazard, vines erupted from the ground at the unsuspecting Rangers’ feet, grasping and entangling. Swords at the point of delivering a death blow started to frantically hack at the tendrils that held feet and legs as firmly as encased in steel, as the two last men-at-arms backed away, their lives spared.

  ‘Bowmen!’ shouted Laska, and as they finished reloading, they ran forward, one to each Ranger, crossbows raised. The Rangers screamed with desperation as without the ability to dodge, to move, every bolt found their deadly mark.

  The grass a few moments ago, so green and so lush, was now splashed with vast swathes of red around the twisted bodies of the dead. What had recently looked like a paradise was now mixed with glimpses of hell.

  Maya approached Laska’s two remaining men-at-arms, who still stood despite suffering a multitude of wounds. ‘Kneel,’ she commanded, and they sank exhausted to the ground. These men had risked their lives, so regardless of the price she would pay, she laid a hand on each of their foreheads, and the blood running from their numerous wounds ceased to flow.

  Gratitude shone from their eyes in direct contrast to Taran’s, which were filled with worry over the use of her gift and the effect it would have, even if it had been the right thing to do.

  ‘Girl, over here,’ pleaded Laska, as he knelt close by cradling a dead man-at-arms. Tears flowed freely down the old man’s cheeks as he looked beseechingly at Maya. Yana also wept at his side. ‘Save my grandson!’ he cried.

  Maya could see a gaping wound in the dead man’s neck that would have killed him near instantly. He was already gone, and she shook her head tiredly, barely able to stand. ‘I cannot.’

  ‘Save him,’ growled Laska, rising determinedly to his feet, fury in his eyes. He raised his sword, and Rakan tensed as did Taran at this unexpected twist.

  Maya nodded. ‘I will try,’ she agreed, then dropped to her knees with Taran next to her.

  Taran looked at her, and she at him. ‘I can only try,’ Maya whispered. Her hands went to the young man’s head, and she reached for her gift, letting it flow as it had with her father. It healed the wounds, closing them in moments and Taran could only look on in concerned wonder.

  The grass all around them grew higher, flowers bloomed, and the scent of heady perfume from the blossom on the trees began to mask the smell of death. Still she continued, and the earth around them erupted, more trees shooting into the sky, covering them all with a canopy of green. Suddenly Maya shone so brightly that even Taran fell away, and when he looked again, Maya was on her side, eyes closed.

  Laska’s grandson was still dead, and yet the anger was gone from the old man’s eyes even if the sorrow remained, for there was no doubt that Maya had given her all.

  Taran swept Maya into his arms. ‘Maya,’ he cried, but she just lay there. He called for her with his mind, yet again there was no response.

  Townsfolk gathered now the fighting was over, and they looked in horror at the death all around, yet their eyes were wide in amazement as they gazed at the miracle before them.

  As Laska ordered men to help carry the dead, he led the way to the Great Hall, insisting Taran bring Maya to be cared for under his protection. As the procession slowly moved amongst the people, they bowed, not to Laska, but to this young woman in Taran’s arms, who had healed their world.

  -----

  Chapter XIX

  The girl flew through the air lost. She had no idea where, or who she was, but it was more than just her name or sense of direction that was missing, and her heart ached.

  She was so high, and the stars in the night sky above the clouds were so bright, that for a moment she considered if it were possible to fly to them, but for some reason knew now was not the time.

  Willing herself lower, she passed through the clouds above a large desolate island, devoid of all life. Everywhere there were bleached bones and ruined buildings, yet nature was not reclaiming this place, for nature had been defeated.

  Other lands were nearby, so she flew to investigate, to find large cities, part of a once-thriving civilisation. She called out as she passed, hoping someone might hear, but only the lonely howl of the wind bl
owing through empty streets answered her cries, and she shivered at the absolute absence of life these places held.

  She headed eastward, hoping to meet the rising sun, feeling in desperate need of its warmth. As she passed above the coastline, all manner of creatures floated dead near the shore, yet further away from land, the sea began to teem with life once more, and her heart lightened somewhat.

  Then on the horizon, another landmass loomed, and she hastened to its shores, hoping to find something that would remind her of her identity and purpose. To her horror, this land was also in its final throes and death seemed to be everywhere.

  In the distance, a vaguely familiar fortress was visible. She approached, only to find the streets of the city surrounding it strangely quiet. However, at least here there were some signs of life, but what men or women there were to be seen, whether adorned with rags or riches, scavenged side by side amongst refuse, desperately trying to find food.

  She flew into the fortress itself only to find much the same; largely deserted halls, the recent dead and dying the only residents.

  Rising from the confines of this tomb, she headed eastward once more, the blinking of a thousand fires in the distance quickening her heart. Drawing closer, it became apparent this was an army, and it seemed the very life of the land from all around was being sucked toward its centre.

  Frightened by the darkness it exuded, she skirted the camp, continuing her journey eastward before coming to, then crossing over, snow-capped mountain peaks that spoke of both beauty and death.

  The sight beyond lifted her spirits, for there was a land as yet untouched by sickness. The twinkling of lights caught her attention, so she went to investigate. More soldiers, but this time without the malaise that had overshadowed the army to the west.

  She flew down to the camp where soldiers stood on guard at the perimeter, looking out into the darkness, and walked up to one.