by Brian Murray
Gan-Goran stood in shock in the cold evening rain, staring at the scene. Naats Flureic raised his other hand. Again, the air charged with mystical energy. Now, from both hands, black bolts streaked towards him . . .
***
Gan-Goran woke with a start, lurching up into a sitting position. He frantically looked around wide-eyed, rubbing his chest. Sweat rolled down his bald head and face, dripping lightly on his pale chest. After all these years, he could still feel the pain—the pain from the magic and the pain of rejection from his kin—his twin brother.
“You well, Gan?”
Gan-Goran swivelled to see Dax sitting by the mouth of the cave. “Yes, fine, just a bad dream.”
“Would you care to talk about it?”
“Not now, my friend.”
Dax nodded. “We all have our secrets, Gan.”
“Aye, we all have our secrets and our failings,” whispered Gan-Goran, lying back down on his blanket. He remembered that night as clearly as if it were yesterday. The sounds of the rain outside must have drawn the memories into his dreams. Could he have stopped him then?
Naats was his brother, and at that time he had not known what Naats would become. If he had had that knowledge then, could he have stopped him? Naats Flureic was his twin brother, his blood, but he was now corrupted beyond all recognition and had to be stopped. Gan-Goran stared at the ceiling of the cave, watched the flickering firelight create dancing shadows. Soon his eyes became heavy and he slept again, dreaming of two young boys playing in fields of green grass, battling an invisible dragon, their laughter filling the air.
***
Scott looked up at the wall and nodded to his comrades. After seeing the creatures, he knew the importance of the report he carried. This was amplified by the urgency in Waid’s voice. He travelled across open ground to nearby woods without the invading force noticing him. Or so he thought. He reached the woods and risked a look over his shoulder. Several beasts stared at him, hunger glinting in their glowing eyes.
Scott rushed through the woods, now breathing heavily with fear. The beasts gave chase. Trees and branches snapped and leaves rustled as they pursued. The scout grabbed a tree, spinning around the trunk to look back into the woods. He saw nothing, but he knew the beasts were there—somewhere. He dashed on with the precious parchment tucked in his tunic. From his left a tree crashed, and a huge Talon Hunter bore down upon him. Scott drew his sword and attacked, but the Talon Hunter nonchalantly slapped the blade aside, sending it flying into the undergrowth. Now armed with only his dagger, Scott started to slowly back away as the beast rocked its head from side to side, waiting, waiting. Scott edged backwards, trying not to make a sound or sudden movement. A twig snapped under his foot. That triggered the beast, and it attacked.
Scott felt immense pain surge through his body. The beast’s claws ripped across his chest, sending a fountain of crimson high into the air. Scott, the scout from Ubert, veteran from the Kharnack siege, died. The Talon Hunter howled, then ripped at his warm flesh, feasting greedily. A bloodied sheet of parchment landed in the undergrowth several paces away, never to be read.
***
The Talon Hunters and the Shadows ran across the open ground with ease, as barbed arrows thudded into them. Even with wooden shafts jutting from their bodies, they did not stop their charge; instead the beasts became angrier, racing faster to the wall.
On the wall, the men had various expressions from utter fear or disbelief to calm certainty—the certainty of death. They watched the enraged black creatures race towards them through the pouring rain, splashing in the grey, almost black, muddy ground. They waited with sharpened swords and axes for the creatures of darkness to descend upon them. They did not have to wait long.
***
Waid waited in the centre, over the gate, looking at the bleak sight of the beasts dashing towards his outpost. It was his outpost and now he faced the greatest danger he had ever seen. Men charging the walls he could handle with ease, but these beasts rushing towards him were something he would not wish on his worst enemy. The sight of them chilled his soul.
He looked at his soldiers, to the left then to the right. They were hard men and he felt a surge of pride in them, for even with a malevolent force descending on them they remained steadfast. Then someone moved next to him, causing Waid to turn. With his cavalry sword in hand, Calac stood next to his friend. Waid forced a smile, for the two friends were again side-by-side to face danger and unprecedented odds.
Waid raised his sword. “Come, beasts of darkness. Come taste Rhaurn steel. RHAURNS!”
The men on the wall responded to his cry by raising their weapons high, roaring in unison. “RHAURNS!”
Waid levelled his sword when the first of the Talon Hunters reached the wall. With one massive bound, it curled its clawed hands on the edge of the battlement—only to be impaled by several Rhaurns carrying spears. The spears snapped or were pulled from men’s grasps as the weighty beast fell off the wall. The men resorted to their swords. This meant close quarter fighting, which benefited the beasts with their longer reach. For a moment, Waid thought they had a chance against the beasts until he heard the first in a continuous stream of gurgling screams of death. The screams were from his men; the bloodletting had begun.
Shrills and shrieks of death mixed with the beasts’ sinister howling, surrounding Waid, flooding his senses. He fought on the wall, with blood splattering him from a man torn in half to his left. The man was dragged over the wall and torn apart where he landed. Instantly, the beasts fed on his corpse. The blood on Waid’s clothes mixed with the rain and streaked down his uniform, pooling onto the stone rampart.
Both Talon Hunters and Shadows had reached the rampart of the outpost and were easily ripping the defenders apart where they stood. Blood covered the parapet and mingled with rainwater to stream down the walls, staining them red. More men fell, forcing Waid to call a retreat. The men tried to fall back, but as the defenders turned to flee, many were slashed across the back. The merciless creatures of darkness continued their wanton slaughter.
The lucky men managed to safely flee back to the officers’ quarters at the centre of the outpost. They bolted the doors and pushed the wooden window shutters into place. Only one window remained clear and through this, Waid watched the appalling massacre of his men. Anger swelled from the man’s soul when he saw injured men ruthlessly hacked and ripped to pieces. One man raced across the open ground, his eyes wide with terror. The door was opened for him and men shouted encouragement at him. He saw safety beckoning, closer, closer . . . But just a few strides from the door, two Shadows leapt upon him. They ripped his body into two and started gorging.
The door was slammed shut.
Waid turned away from the gruesome sight and looked around the hall where he and his remaining men waited. The same expression visible on the men’s bloodied faces stared back at the commander—horror and disbelief. Some looked away, down at the floor or their hands, which shook uncontrollably.
Realisation struck Waid and he scanned the room frantically, then looked back out of the window, searching the murky outpost—Calac was not in the officer’s quarters.
Waid gazed to the wall above the gate, where he and Calac had stood. He could not remember Calac falling when he recalled the fighting; he only saw blood and death. Sorrow touched Waid’s heart and he thought fondly of his friend, who was most certainly lost.
His thoughts drifted back to the Royal Lancers’ march with Prince Zane, now king. In Dashnar Forest the beasts had attacked, and of the twenty-five Royal Lancers, ultimately only Calac and himself had survived. Waid remembered little of the fighting in Dashnar Forest. He had been knocked unconscious when the first Talon Hunter attacked. It was Calac who told him of the men’s bravery and how Zane had stood tall, defending his fallen body. Waid smiled inside when he remembered volunteering Calac for the post of administrator of Ubert. Now his friend was gone. He wished Zane, Dax, Thade, and Tanas all the best and prayed sil
ently to the Divine One for them. He hoped to see them again, but deep down in his soul he doubted any of his men would survive the night. Waid said another silent prayer to the Divine One for his friend Calac, and for his men.
None of the beasts followed the men. They waited on and by the walls, and Waid soon realised why. Several of the Talon Hunters went to the gate and started pounding against the wooden structure. From the window, through the rain Waid could just make out the dark creatures charging the gate. Beast after beast hammered its body against the wooden structure. The building, the walls, and the surrounding area shook under the force of the impact. Thud. Thud. Thud!
CRASH!
The gate splintered from its hinges and howls of success filled the air. More creatures swarmed in. Waid could see some of them fighting amongst themselves for the carcasses, which sickened the commander. He turned his attention back to the gate. Emerging through the darkness and rain, the huge horses entered the outpost.
Waid felt trepidation. The horses edged closer and closer to the building, their backs occupied by massive warriors. The horses parted and the three silver-armoured warriors approached, with the black-clad warrior just behind. The silver-armoured warriors stopped, their rain-sodden cloaks hanging limply behind them. The jet-black horse took a further few steps forward and shook its head, spraying water, its red eyes fixed on the building. The mount started to paw the ground with impatience. The beasts of the Dread stopped howling.
“I warned you!” boomed the Dark One. “Now you will all die!”
One of the silver-armoured warriors raised his broadsword. The horsemen dismounted their stallions and approached the officers’ quarters. Just before Waid slammed the window shutter closed, he marvelled at the size of the warriors who approached. He and the other men stepped away from the windows and waited. For what seemed like an eternity, nothing happened. Then the pounding started. The sound of shattering windows filled the air as shards of glass scattered all around. Hammering against the wooden shutters and heavy door boomed throughout the building, shaking the structure to its foundations. The wood started to splinter and crack, warning the men to prepare themselves. One of the shutters imploded into the room.
The first hand reached through a shattered window. A Rhaurn slammed his sword down against the tough skin above the wrapped chain protection, slicing it slightly. The Rhaurn chopped down again. The hand retreated from the window and a Caynian howled with pain. All around the building, shutters were being smashed by the huge warriors, who punched and chopped at the wood. Inside, the Rhaurns waited, but no beast entered the building. Men wiped sweat and blood from their sword hilts, while others bandaged shallow cuts. There was an air of inevitability about the situation, but the Rhaurns would not give up. They would make these creatures bleed.
Outside, lightning ripped across the sky, easily visible through the shattered shutters.
The next move surprised Waid and the men inside the building. Instead of charging the building, the beasts threw in lanterns, smashing the oil-filled containers against the inside walls.
Thunder boomed outside.
Most of the furnishings within the building were made of wood and fabric, which easily caught alight. The Rhaurns used all available liquids to try to extinguish the flames, but more and more lanterns were thrown in. One of the lanterns hit a Rhaurn and shattered, instantly engulfing him in flames. Screams of fright and pain filled the building as the flames ate his body and black smoke plumed. The man instinctively ran out of the broken door into the rain to roll in the wet, soothing mud but before he could douse his body, he was mercilessly decapitated. His fallen body twitched once and rain hissed as it hit the dying flames. Soon only his charred bones remained, steaming in the mud.
Dense black smoke filled the building, stinging the Rhaurns’ eyes, causing them to cough violently. Now the interior of the building was engulfed in flames and they would not survive if they remained inside. When Waid gave the order, the men evacuated, running outside where the rain soothed their coughs and stinging eyes.
Lightning flashed.
To Waid’s amazement, the beasts still did not attack. Instead, the massive warriors silently waited, forming a semi-circle around the doorway, blocking the Rhaurns’ escape.
Thunder rumbled angrily overhead.
Waid called his men to him and made a quick count. He had forty men. Silently, they waited. He watched a black-armoured man and the three silver-armoured warriors dismount. They stepped past the huge Caynians to face the Rhaurns, stopping several paces in front of the men, the tall ebony-clad warrior spoke.
“I told you, you could not defeat my army. This is just the beginning. You should feel proud to be the first to face me. I will not be so tolerant with the rest of your kind. You and your men are brave and honourable, but you must all die.”
“We’re Rhaurns and we will fight to the end,” countered Waid in a matter-of-fact tone.
“Where are the Children of the Light?” asked the Dark One.
Waid misunderstood the question. “We’re all children of the light to your beasts. You and your creatures are repugnant and evil oozes from your very being. I wish I had the power to strike you down or see you struck down. But when you see our army, you’ll be the ones quaking, not us. You’ll be the ones to feel Rhaurn steel in your bellies. I wish to see the day my king stands over your fallen body.”
“That day will never happen, mortal. I have seen the futures.”
Anger filled Waid’s soul and he spat at the Dark One’s feet. “I’ve had enough of listening to your petty words, mage—they’re boring me. If you’re going to kill me, then kill me.” With that, Waid screamed a battle cry and charged at the Dark One. Drawing the Blade of Yallas, the Dark One impaled Waid through the chest. The commander’s soul left his dead shell instantly.
Without hesitation, the rest of the Rhaurns charged the warriors—and just as swiftly, their blood and their screams filled the rain-saturated air.
CHAPTER 10
Dax and the others woke at dawn in a merry mood and made their way south towards Ubert. The heavy rain had finally slackened off, making travelling easier and faster. Dax estimated that around midday they should reach Ubert, where they could get fresh supplies, horses, and rest. As their mounts plodded through the cold, slushy mud, the thoughts of a warm room and a hot bath drew the men on. They crested a hill and stopped. In the distance, they saw dense black smoke rising from the region where Ubert lay.
“That’s a lot of smoke,” observed Gan-Goran.
“Is that Ubert?” asked Thade.
“Aye,” answered Dax, staring at the sight, puzzled. He said no more and urged his horse forward. Something stirred in the warrior’s stomach. All but Thade followed Dax. He remained on the hilltop, looking at the smoke. Thade recalled the battles they had fought there, and for the first time in a long while, he thought fondly of Zane.
***
Zane sat in his chambers reading reports but not absorbing anything, as he waited for his general’s arrival. He had spent the morning with Aurillia, his wife-to-be, and her father Rayth, at their tavern. He then walked back through his city with the fabled axe-wielders at his side. People had rushed up to their sovereign, greeting him warmly. But constantly in the young king’s mind was the new threat to his people, his reign, and lands. He had only told General Brooks and Rayth of the threat they now faced.
He thought back to one evening when everything began to overwhelm him. It was late when he went to speak to Rayth. He would have gone to Dax, to hear his words of wisdom, but Dax was not here. Zane deliberately arrived at the tavern late, knowing Aurillia would be asleep. He gently rapped on the backdoor, giving the secret knock.
Rayth opened the door and invited him in. He noticed the young man’s discomfort and the two sat in the kitchen for a while in silence.
“What ails you, Zane?” asked Rayth, worried it was about his daughter. “Is it Aurillia?”
Zane smiled at the old man. �
�I love your daughter, Rayth, there’s no question there.”
Rayth physically relaxed. “So, what’s bothering you?”
“We did not win,” replied Zane, solemnly clasping his hands together as if in prayer. “Get us some tisane and I’ll explain.”
Rayth made them some tisane and placed a clay goblet of hot, fragrant liquid in front of the young king. Zane added some honey and absently stirred his brew, gathering his thoughts.
“Rayth, we won a battle but the war has not yet been fought. I’ve been advised the Dark One walks our lands and he’s heading this way. He intends to wipe out the memory of his defeat at Rhamagabora—which is the ancient name for Teldor. He has an army of beasts that would chill even the soul of the bravest man and he’s coming here to raze our city and kill everyone.” Zane paused. “He intends to kill the Children of the Light. Rayth . . . I’m one of those children and truth be told, I’m lost. I don’t know what I should do. I wish Dax and the others were here, but I’m on my own.”
Rayth gazed at the young man for a while, feeling pity for him. During his short reign, Zane had faced nothing but adversity and knots tightened in Rayth’s stomach. “You think you’re going to get out of marrying my Aurillia just because an army of beasts are coming. Let me tell you this, it will not happen. You listen to me, I am Rayth and you will be marrying my child.”
Zane smiled his crooked smile and looked into the older warrior’s eyes. “Thank you, Rayth.” The young king sipped the tisane and wrinkled his nose. He added some more honey, hoping it would soften the bitter taste.
“Zane, if an army of beasts is coming to Teldor, then we will face them side-by-side. I assure you that you will be marrying my Aurillia and if that means standing next you in the field of battle, then so be it.”
“Thank you, Rayth,” Zane repeated softly.
“Now no more glumness from you, you understand. I suppose you have a plan?”
Again, Zane smiled and nodded.
“Well, don’t keep it a secret for too long, I don’t think my old heart can hold these fast beats.”