by Toni Cox
“Who is left to guard the city?”
“Everyone who is able to carry a weapon,” Aaron replied. “Even the children have taken to the trees to act as sentries.”
Rothea nodded. It was not a perfect solution, but she knew the people of Shadow Hall would do anything to protect their home. She tried to remember the number of people still in the city. Besides the Night Watch and the Sentinels who had remained to guard the city, only the very old, very young, or infirm had been left behind, as well as some essential services, such as Sanitors, some Hunters, Luke the Healer, and so on. Every man and woman able to fight had been enlisted into the Legion and were already deployed somewhere across the Yllitar Plains.
“Let us move out,” she shouted and mounted her own horse.
Aaron moved up alongside her, still a little awkward in a saddle, and handed her a piece of Travel Bread.
She nodded her thanks to him and then they were galloping down Warriors Walk and onto Legion Crossing and finally out onto the open plains. They had a war to go to.
Maia woke with a start. Thunder rolled heavily overhead and a flash of lightning briefly illuminated the tent. Rain drummed against the sodden material of the tent.
“What time is it?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.
“Two hours before sunrise, although I doubt we will be seeing one today,” Silas replied.
Silas was sitting by the small fire. Her father was sitting on the floor resting against one of the poles of the tent. His eyes were closed.
Maia threw the thin blanket off her and sat up. Linking with Midnight, she enquired about his wellbeing. He was all right, but she knew he was uncomfortable out in the storm.
“Any news?” she enquired.
“Some of the Regiments arrived during the night. Even the warriors of Rathaés and Dragonfort have finally made it here. They had to fight their way through and suffered some casualties, but all in all we now have almost ten thousand warriors encamped around the Gate.”
Maia rose and went to join Silas by the fire.
“It still will not be enough,” she sighed.
“It is more than we had hoped for.”
“Let us hope more will come. Has there been any activity within the stones?”
“None,” Silas said, a deep frown on his face. “I even went to investigate myself and found no traces of magic within the circle. At first, we thought that maybe the information you were given was incorrect, but I now believe that it is the weather that has given us this respite. I fear that once the storm abates, the Vampyres will attack. We will need to be ready.”
“How fare the men?”
“This weather has not made it easy for them to rest and many of them have spent much of the night marching through the storm. Our troops are exhausted, but our supply of Silva remains largely untouched. I fear we might have need of it soon. Here,” he said, handing her a bowl of steaming broth, “you also need to keep your strength up.”
“Any word from Jaik?”
“I am afraid not.”
Maia took a sip from her bowl, the broth hot and salty in her mouth, instantly warming her. She was worried about her brother, yet she somehow felt that he was safe. At least for now.
Her father stirred and came to sit by the fire. Maia was worried about how tired he looked, his eyes ringed by dark circles. She knew it was worry that was aging him like this. The fate of Grildor rested firmly on his shoulders. Maia knew what that felt like. Quickly she poured him a bowl of broth as well.
“While we still have the time, why don’t you tell me more of what you have learned? Any detail you might have left out yesterday might be of help today. How did you come across these traitors in the first place?”
She almost coughed into her broth at Silas’ question. She felt a flush of heat colour her cheeks. The fact that she had been with Blaid had been omitted during her report yesterday and for some reason she suddenly felt too afraid to tell them. She looked down at her hands holding the bowl, hoping to hide her flushed face.
“Rothea and I followed you. At a distance, so you would not notice. I am sorry, Father, for disobeying your orders, but I could not sit by idly while you rode into battle.”
She looked up at him, expecting him to be angry, but there was only concern in his deep, brown eyes.
“After a while I had the strangest feeling. I cannot explain it, except that I felt some negative forces towards the direction of the forest. We decided to follow to find out what it was. By the time we reached the forest, we crossed their spoor. There were twelve of them, one badly injured.”
“Twelve?” Jagaer asked. “Yet you still followed them?”
“Rothea and I were only trying to find out what was going on. Once we realised they were Elves, I knew something was wrong. I had to know more.”
She paused, unsure on how to proceed. She knew the truth would upset her father even more, but she did not want to lie to him either.
“Carry on, Maia,” Silas encouraged.
She swallowed hard. A bead of sweat was forming on her forehead.
“They eventually stopped in a small clearing on account of the injured man. We sneaked up on them on foot and overheard some of what they were saying. They were fleeing the country in light of what was to come. This was when we decided that we could learn much from them.”
“So how did you manage to overcome twelve Elves and got them to give up their secrets?” Jagaer asked, now with keen interest.
“I projected my elemental power onto them and cowed them into submission and…”
“You projected?” Silas asked in astonishment. “When did you learn to do that?”
“Let her finish, Silas. I am sure she will be able to share this with you later.”
“While I questioned them, Rothea bound them. I also healed the injured man. The things we learned from them made me shudder, but it put many things into perspective. We have been betrayed, Father, and not only by Kanarel. Although Kanarel seemed to have been the main contact that negotiated with the Vampyres, he had a whole host of people working for him. He had,…has,…spies positioned in every city, all around Grildor. None of our secrets, none of our plans, are safe. That is why the Vampyres always seemed to be one step ahead of everything we do.”
“But why?” her father asked, the betrayal cutting deep.
“Kanarel believed that we, as a race, have stopped evolving. We are still doing things the old way, honouring our time-old traditions. He believed that what the country needs, is progress. New inventions. Industry. Even a monetary system. Over the past few years he searched for like-minded people and they formed the Secta Ĕ Novicus. The Sect of Modernisation. When the Vampyres first made contact, he used the opportunity to his advantage, offering them assistance in exchange for certain titles, lands and … me.”
“You?” Jagaer was aghast.
“I think he realised that I would never agree to marry him willingly, but with me by his side he would be able to rule Grildor as the mate of a Prime. The men said that Kanarel had drawn up trade agreements with Naylera for when the war was over, but then something happened and the Vampyres decided that Kanarel was not getting things done swiftly enough. They were threatening him with attempts on my life if he did not produce results. After the attack on me at the inn, Kanarel decided to remain close to me, which is why he travelled to Shadow Hall with us after we passed through Braérn.”
“I cannot fathom what drove Kanarel to such actions,” Jagaer wondered. “Our systems have proven themselves for millennia. Just look at what happened to Brath. Their modernisation killed their planet. Earth is heading the same way. I simply do not understand why anyone would want that.”
“Neither do I, Father.”
“Now, tell us about their plans, Maia,” Silas prompted.
“Like I said, they have been infiltrating the cities and placing their sect members for years. It was a well-established network by the time the Vampyres made contact. Nevertheless, the Vampyres were impa
tient. Instead of waiting for Kanarel to give them all the information they needed, they decided to attack right away. We won that battle, of course, but for them the war was not over. Having been defeated, they decided to listen to what Kanarel suggested and they took their time gathering, not only information, but also supplies. Kanarel arranged for their entire army to be outfitted with proper armour, weapons, tents, food, as well as providing them with several minor Elementals to assist them with passing into Grildor unnoticed. For Moons, they have been positioning their forces, waiting for the right time to attack. Cities were targeted for the resources they could provide, as well as to split our forces. Their plans worked. Our armies are spread across the country, leaving Greystone all but unprotected. I have seen the war camp on Naylera for myself, so I believe the men when they say that the Vampyres’ army numbers over forty thousand.”
“Unchecked, their entire army could come through the Gate in under four hours. We only have ten thousand warriors at hand, as it stands. Unless more reinforcements arrive, we stand little chance against such overwhelming odds.” Her father sounded defeated.
“All is not lost yet, Jagaer,” Silas said. “They did not succeed in killing our ‘Princess of Light,” he winked at Maia, “and we do have Midnight. I believe that so far, he has slain more Vampyres and Werewolves than all our forces combined. All we need to do is hold them off as they come through the Gate, while the rest of our forces make their way here. Maia said some were further away than others, but they are all marching for Greystone, even as we speak.”
“Then let us hope this storm does not break too soon.”
As if in answer, lightning flashed overhead, followed immediately by the crack of thunder. They were all silent then, listening to the wind and rain battering the tent. The storm had been raging all night; it could not last forever.
Suddenly, the entrance flap to the tent was opened and a Sentinel stepped in. He was dripping wet, leaving puddles on the floor.
“Pardon, My Lord, but you requested to be informed should there be any developments.”
“Speak, what has happened.” Jagaer rose to address the Sentinel.
“Lord Brimstone has arrived with his Guard and all eleven Regiments. They have also brought with them some of the scattered Legions of various cities. Their total number stands at eight hundred and fifty-three.”
“Thank you, that is good news.”
The Sentinel bowed and then left the tent.
“Stoneloft’s Regiments were posted at the Gate until their city was attacked,” Jagaer said. “Lord Brimstone then had his army march for home. I believe that when he received news that his city had been defended successfully, he turned his army around again. Was he one of the people you spoke to during your flight yesterday?” Jagaer asked Maia.
“No, but Midnight did inform me that Lord Brimstone was already marching for Greystone, so we did not waste time speaking with him. He must have come across the others along the way. Those were probably some of the ones I saw last night.”
“Stoneloft’s warriors came from the east. The armies of Rathaés and Dragonfort came from the south. Most of the Regiments of Thala Yll and Alea Yll are already with us, as are about half of the Legions of various cities. Let us hope the rest has only been scattered and not slain. We will need them when the time comes.”
“We will indeed, Jagaer,” Silas said. “Yet, you have seen the battlefield around the stones. We lost many men before we got here. It is impossible to say how many are dead.”
“We saw the same during our flight last night,” Maia added. “Every Commander I have spoken to had been in battles and suffered casualties.”
Jagaer retook his seat by the fire and ran his large hands through his thick hair. Worry made his shoulders hunch.
“The best we can hope for is twenty thousand,” he said. “We have managed to reassemble some of the damaged war machines and they are positioned around the Gate. Silas, summon the Commanders. Dawn is almost upon us. We need to be ready.”
Blaid had spent the night, and the worst of the storm, within the shelter of the dark forest. Yet he had not slept, but had spent his time seeking out the warriors he had freed from the Vampyre camp. They had scattered into the undergrowth of the forest and it had taken him most of the night to track them down. It had then taken him the rest of the night to convince them that they had nothing to fear from him. They had also felt the fear that had gripped the camp; and that had ultimately allowed him to free the prisoners; but they had assumed it had been he that had been the cause.
With fifty-four men and women, he now stepped out of the forest and onto the plains. He knew the sun was rising to the east, but the dark storm clouds still prevented any light from shining through. They were all wet, cold, and tired and they still had a long way to go to reach Greystone. Even Lilith’s spirit seemed subdued for the moment, following close behind him, her head hanging low.
He desperately wanted to tell the warriors to make their own way to Greystone, so he could ride there with haste. One look at Lilith told him that he could not do that to her. They had been going for almost twenty-four hours, riding hard and fighting, without rest or food. She was as exhausted as they all were. Yet he fretted about Maia and he hoped she was with Midnight. Somehow, he knew that the Vampyres had not breached Greystone yet; surely, he would have felt it. The storm had been terrible, but it was letting up now. It sill rained and thunder rolled overhead, but the winds that had scoured the land had abated and lightning was less frequent. The breach would come and it would come soon.
They marched on, as fast as their tired and battered bodies would allow. Strangely, they encountered no resistance along the way, no Vampyres. Yet, as they marched, their numbers swelled. Legions that had been battling to the south, two Regiments that had been involved in fighting near the forest and an assortment of Night Watch, Sentinels, and Scouts; all were returning to the Gate. Some wore the colours of Rathaés, others hailed from Tarron Heights and Shadow Hall, but he even noticed the crests of Braérn and Alea Yll on some of the breastplates. Soon he was at the head of an army almost a thousand strong. He wondered how he had managed to find himself in this position. He was no Commander. He did not lead people. Yet, they all united behind him, trusting him with their leadership for the time being.
It was a tenuous trust though. Some still regarded him as the enemy, no doubt having heard the stories about him, and he relied heavily on the accounts of the fifty-four he had rescued. To him, it did not matter what they thought of him. His only concern was to reach Maia and help her save her nation. If, in the process, he could win favour with her father so that he might be with her, then that would be reward enough for him.
They marched another few miles before he noticed that the rain had abated to a drizzle and that the light was strengthening. He looked up into the sky and saw the clouds thinning. A heavy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach; the time had come.
He picked up the pace, encouraging the already tired warriors to give even more. They lengthened their strides, their tired legs pounding through the rain-soaked earth. A nervous energy rippled through Blaid and his entire body tingled. It felt like the air was electrically charged, as if he was walking through a lightning storm. The hairs on his arms stood erect and he started to shake. He knew the feeling; he had felt it before. Maia’s life was in danger and he needed to get to her now.
He turned to the nearest Commander to let him know that he was riding ahead, they were now only about three miles from Greystone, but before he could utter the words, a dull thud shook the earth, followed closely by a mild shock wave. They all stopped, staring towards the north, wondering what had happened.
Blaid knew. The Gate had finally been breached.
The meeting with the Commanders had gone well. As the morning progressed and the weather improved, so their forces moved into their final positions. This time, their strategy was different. Thala Yll’s Dragon Guard and Regiments formed a circle around Greyst
one, about a hundred paces between them and the stones. Behind them were the archers, ready to take out any that slipped past the dragons. Everyone else, on horse and on foot, guarded the rear. The war machines, each able to shoot up to ten bolts at a time, had been placed in different locations; each location chosen in such a way that the machines could be used without inflicting injury to their own men.
The main difference, however, was that Midnight would be their first line of defence. He was pacing the space between the stones and the Battle Dragons, ready to rain down dragon fire on any that came through the Gate. Without having to worry about any Elves getting in the way, Midnight could unleash the full torrent of his might and incinerate them as they came through. As per Silas’ calculations, Midnight would have about five minutes between intervals. Each time, up to forty Vampyres could come through simultaneously. Midnight confirmed that he could summon his fire in rapid succession, but was unsure of how many times he could do it. If the Vampyre army were indeed forty thousand strong, that would mean a thousand blasts of dragon fire for Midnight.
Maia was worried about him. She knew he would try, even if it killed him. She sat now on a borrowed horse, alongside her father, Silas, Commander Ridgewell and Commander Willowbay. They were on the same rise that the command tent had been set up on and they had a good view of the battlefield before them.
Silas had been given instruction to stay with Maia once the battle commenced. Her father did not want her anywhere near the fighting.
“We need you to heal the injured,” had been his reasoning.
Even from this distance, Maia could hear Midnight’s impatient rumble. It was a sound so deep that it was almost imperceptible. The horses all twitched nervously. Maia watched in awe as her father’s plan came together. It looked like a well-rehearsed play; all the pieces coming together to form a whole. Midnight was circling the stones, the other dragons stood still all around him, the archers were already in position and the rest were moving up behind them. They would be ready; it would not be long now.