Dark Times

by Brian Murray

  “Sorry, who is here?” asked Thade.

  “Her Champion,” Gan-Goran answered, not saying his name.

  “But that makes him over two thousand years old, is that possible?” pressed Thade.

  “How do you know?” asked Tanas, cocking his head to one side.

  Gan-Goran paused. “I have been told.”

  Lightning streaked across the sky. Thunder rumbled noisily.

  “What do we do?” asked Thade, looking at his mentor for guidance.

  Dax, still holding the broken cavalry sword, looked at the group and at that moment did not have an answer. He bowed his head and stepped out into the rain, leaving his friends wondering what to do. Dax wandered around the outpost, remembering better days with Zane, Gammel, and the others when they had fought the Kharnacks. Brave men had stood at their sides; brave men who were now all dead. Not one of them seemed to have survived. He thought of the many women and children. Anger washed over Dax’s body and he looked up into the pouring rain.

  “Why them? Why here?” he yelled, shaking with rage. “These were brave men who fought for Your cause and tried to defeat evil. Why them?”

  “I have no control over the Dark One,” came a soft musical voice from behind Dax.

  The old warrior slowly turned to face the Divine One, recognising Her immediately. Usually, he would have bowed in Her presence, but his anger boiled. “Why?” he demanded.

  “Dax, I have no control over the evil force that marches across our lands.”

  “You could have saved them.”

  The Divine One bowed her head as if in shame. “I wish that I could have. But my powers are waning and I will need your help again.” The Divine One reached forward and stumbled. Dax dropped the broken cavalry sword to catch the woman, realising She was now frail and weakened. He knelt down, cradling Her in his arms. “I am weak and need to rely on the power and honour of man again to save the day. The Dark One comes to our lands stronger than ever and his very presence is causing me problems. If you Men make a stand, then there is a future for you. If you give in, then there is no hope . . . only darkness. And I will fade to become just a memory; a leaf on the wind.”

  The Divine One disappeared from Dax’s arms. Lightning momentarily lit up the outpost in cold white light. Dax slowly rose from the wet ground and looked up to the steel grey sky, his eyes aglow with anger. As thunder rumbled, he roared at the top of his voice. “I will not let it happen! I AM DAX!!! I will not let him win!”

  With renewed purpose, Dax stalked back to the officers’ quarters. He entered the charred building and gazed upon his friends.

  ***

  On a distant hilltop, a woman sat alone and heard Dax’s roar. Slowly, a smile crept across Her face. At that moment, a loose stone started to roll down the hill. She watched the stone and thought how the stone would gather momentum; how by the time it reached the bottom it would be a powerful force. The power of hope, like the stone, rested in the momentum it could achieve. All the Divine One could do was wait, leaving Her survival in Her faith in Man.

  ***

  In the doorway of the officers’ quarters, dripping with rain, stood Dax. He looked at his friends, not saying a word. To his left stood Thade whom he loved as his own son, a former gladiator who would travel to Hell and back for his ‘father’. Dax smiled at the young man, who grinned back. Next to him was the old magic-master, Gan-Goran. Dax was now convinced he was the real one and happy to have the old man beside him. To the right, holding his quarterstaff, stood the blind warrior, Tanas. He had proven himself to be a capable warrior with a calm centre. These were the best of men; only a few men could equal these three. Dax thought of Zane, Gammel, Rayth, and Rowet: men of steel who anyone would be proud to have at their side during any conflict, against any odds.

  “We go after them,” announced Dax grimly.

  “Pardon me?” responded Gan-Goran, truly surprised.

  “I’m with you, as always,” said Thade.

  Tanas nodded in agreement.

  “Are you all crazy? What do you think you can achieve? They will kill you and what will that achieve?” screeched Gan-Goran.

  “If we die, then we die.”

  “But . . . ”

  “No buts this time, Gan,” said Dax calmly. “Either you are with us, or you are not. I am going to stop that bastard and make him pay for all the evil he has done.”

  “We cannot do this alone. We’re only four.”

  “I remember the sagas of Her champion. He was only one. We are four.”

  Thade and Tanas stepped forward to stand next to their mentor, leaving Gan-Goran standing on his own.

  The old master-magiker smiled a wicked smile. “Well, if you intend to follow this foolish course of madness, then what the hell . . . let’s go and kick some arse.”

  Dax smiled at his old friend but through his mirth, vengeance dominated his thoughts. He was determined to see the Dark One stopped at all costs.

  The group searched the outpost and found some supplies in a deserted store. They walked back across the muddy field through teeming rain, and retrieved their horses. Then the four men followed the trail left by the Dread, heading towards Dashnar Forest.

  Four friends started on their quest—a quest that would certainly bring Death.

  ***

  The rain constantly fell as the group easily followed the tracks left by the forces of evil. Even in the heavy rain, the four men could trace the swathe of blackness heading west, towards the Glass Mountains. Green meadows had wide black paths of churned mud cutting across them where the Dread had marched. Towards dusk the rain eased. The men decided to camp in a hollow, and lit a small fire.

  After the men had tended their horses and Gan-Goran started a meal, howling pierced the air. The men stopped. The lingering rain was the only other sound. Droplets slapped leaves and hissed as they attacked the burning wood in the fire. Then the air was still and no leaves rustled. Smoke from the fire rose lazily.

  “They’re back,” announced Tanas softly.

  “How many of them?” asked Dax, his eyes ferreting, searching the dark undergrowth surrounding the clearing.

  “I would say about six or seven of them. Two to the north, two south, and one or two each east and west.”

  “Well, all we can do is let them come,” said Dax coolly.

  “Is that wise?” asked Gan-Goran, his eyes wide.

  Another blood-curdling howl broke the silence.

  Dax smiled, the firelight distorting his expression, so that it appeared menacing. “I will not go out there and hunt them, so let them come to me.” The warrior pulled clear his axes and started honing the blades. “They will die soon enough,” he announced.

  For two hours, the men waited. From all directions the howling grew louder. The beasts were getting closer. The rain stopped, but the ground was completely sodden. This, Dax hoped, would work in their favour.

  “They’re close,” whispered Tanas.

  “Good,” hissed Dax, who rose smoothly and removed his tunic. He covered his face and torso in mud, then crept into the undergrowth, taking his death-dealers with him.

  Thade smiled and followed suit. “I think Dax wants you to remain here, Gan.”

  “Why? As bait?”

  Thade just beamed his magical smile, then he merged with the undergrowth. The old man looked to his left, but Tanas had already disappeared without a sound. Gan-Goran reached for his iron core quarterstaff. He sat down cross-legged by the fire, with the staff across his lap. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, calming his racing mind. He recalled a spell and allowed the magic to grow inside of him.

  The howling stopped.

  An ominous black silence settled over the hollow.

  CHAPTER 11

  Gan-Goran opened his eyes and scanned the small area illuminated by the warm glow from the campfire. He could not see his three friends, who hid in the undergrowth, waiting for the beasts to attack. He calmed his pounding heart and allowed the magic to build
. Suddenly, the hollow exploded in pandemonium as the Talon Hunters leapt in. One of the beasts flew over Gan-Goran’s head and landed in the fire, showering the hollow with sparks and glowing embers. Gan-Goran reacted instantly. He pointed his staff at the beast in the fire. He screamed the word of power. The air around him crackled and hissed. Then a magical bolt of white energy flew from the staff, striking the beast and smothering it in flames. In a few heartbeats, the beast died lying in the fire, its body smouldering, steam rising.

  The three warriors attacked the other Talon Hunters from behind. The fighting was bloody and fierce. The Talon Hunters defended themselves from the viciousness of the onslaught, but the element of surprise was on the warriors’ side.

  Dax was the first to react and charged in wielding his death-dealers. In an instant, he had one of his axes buried in a Talon Hunter’s thick skull. Before the beast could howl in pain, Dax thrust his other axe into the beast’s throat, lodging his blade deep in its flesh. Dark gunge spewed from the wounds, glistening in the firelight. Two down. Dax wrenched his weapons free, then looked for another. The beast collapsed.

  Thade and Tanas attacked the same beast, knowing that alone they may not succeed, but together . . . Tanas jumped high and Thade dived low. The blind warrior slashed the beast’s throat whilst the former gladiator cut the tendons behind its knee. The beast fell and Tanas landed on the beast’s chest. Holding his short swords under his arm, he pushed them deep into the beast’s chest, like daggers. Three down. Thade ducked under a wild lash from another beast. He crouched on one knee and thrust both of his swords up into its exposed groin. The injured beast howled and fell. Thade furiously hacked at its neck until it was beheaded. Four down. Tanas faced another beast with his head bowed and his bloodied blades at his side. Slowly, the blind warrior smiled. Crunch! Both death-dealers crashed through the back of the Talon Hunter’s skull. Five down.

  Tanas spun down, turning around to his left. He hacked through a beast’s thick, chunky leg like it was butter. The beast’s gargling howl was cut short. Rising, Tanas slammed both of his swords deep into the Talon Hunter’s opened maw. That left one.

  The beast stood tall in front of Dax. The older warrior remained still with his death-dealers resting against his legs, tapping the blades gently against his muscular calves. He waited for the Talon Hunter to attack. Thade moved to the older warrior’s left and Tanas to his right. Dax took one step forward and beckoned the beast forward with one of his death-dealers. The beast howled in anger and charged the warrior. Dax stood defiantly.

  Both Thade and Tanas ran forward, then dropped and skidded on their knees in the wet mud. Thade cut out right and Tanas cut out left, hacking through both of the Talon Hunter’s clawed feet. The beast stumbled forward, right into Dax and his death-dealers. The mighty warrior lifted his axes up and slammed them both down into the beast’s cranium. Blood sprayed over Dax’s face as he slid backwards in the mud, pushed back by the beast’s momentum. He stopped sliding and roared, releasing all his anger.

  The hollow fell still and silent. The two younger warriors rose and walked towards Dax. The three embraced—they had won the first fight.

  Gan-Goran joined them, smiling. “Next time I think it would better if you had someone younger as the bait; I nearly peed myself.”

  That was what the group needed. They all laughed, releasing the tension.

  “Let’s move. I do not want to stay close to those things,” said Dax.

  The others happily agreed.

  ***

  The group rode through the rest of the night in silence, walking their horses slowly through sticky mud. They stayed off the known trails, following the wake left by the marching army.

  Through the darkness, Thade noticed a wagon further along the wide path. The men ventured out from the shelter of the trees. They warily approached the wagon and noticed the wheels had been broken, buckled outwards, as though a heavy object had been dropped on it from above. They got closer. The men recognised the mutilated body parts of several humans and horses. The fetid smell from the rotting corpses and excrement hung in the air, causing Thade to gag.

  They did not have time to wonder who the people were or bury them, so left the wagon and continued on their way. At dawn, they found a stream near the boundary with Dashnar Forest. Due to the heavy rain, the water flowed high and fast. There the three warriors washed the mud and beast gore from themselves, using the strong but cold currents to massage their aching muscles. Gan-Goran readied a warm meal for them to break their fasts. While the three warriors ate, the maker-magiker walked down to the river and washed.

  ***

  The Dark One with his Dread headed towards the Glass Mountains and they made their way towards Single Tooth Gorge, leaving Dashnar Forest behind them. Ahead of the Dark One’s army, the Glass Mountains glistened and shimmered in the moonlight. The Dread stretched back for over a mile, cutting a swathe in the earth—claws, talons, and hooves churned the grass, exposing the rich brown soil. Scouting ahead of the Dread were a few Shadows and Talon Hunters. Behind them, riding majestically on their horses, came the Caynians, led by Malice. In the middle of the Caynians, the Dark One rode his massive black stallion, with the Darklord following in his blackened carriage. Behind the carriage rode Fury, and at the rear of the Caynians leading the rest of the Talon Hunters and Shadows, rode Chaos.

  The Caynians entered Single Tooth Gorge. Their huge mounts with their iron-shod hooves pulverised the shards of rocks, ahead of the Talon Hunters and Shadows.

  ***

  A scouting group of Royal Lancers sent from Teldor waited in a cold camp on a hilltop, overlooking the western exit of Single Tooth Gorge. Looking down from their vantage point, the scouts could just see the slightly humped stone bridge that spanned the River Dyna. They could clearly hear the water gently flowing underneath the bridge, cascading down small rocky rapids. Returning from an earlier reconnaissance, Marley, the group captain, slowly walked his horse around the camp and tethered it with the other mounts. After rubbing the horse down, he fixed a nosebag around the horse’s ears, then joined the others.

  “Anything, sir?” asked one of the five scouts in Marley’s team.

  Marley shook his head.

  “This has been a waste of time,” snapped another scout, shaking his head.

  “What’s this all about, Captain?” asked a third scout.

  Marley looked at his team. They had been together as a scouting team for over a year and Marley did not keep anything from his men. If they were to go into danger, he would be the first to tell his men so they would be prepared. Marley gazed down at his hands and idly rubbed them together, deep in thought.

  “I honestly don’t know,” he said with a shrug.

  “Don’t know or won’t tell us?”

  Marley shot the accusing scout a look and if a look could kill, then his glare would have destroyed an army. The captain rose, not saying a word, and left his men quietly arguing amongst themselves. He strode away from the camp into the night and found a gnarled old hardwood tree that faced the gorge’s western exit. He slumped down and leaned against the knotted trunk. He dipped into his pocket and pulled out a strip of dried beef. He looked at the cold meat and silently wished for a hot stew. The group had been on the hill for a couple of days and Marley had ordered no campfire to be lit. He took a bite and slowly chewed the tough meat, his mind drifting . . .

  ***

  Marley stood in the officers’ hall at the barracks in Teldor, waiting for General Brooks to arrive. Inside the torch-lit hall, most of the other scouting company captains were present, all talking in hushed tones. None of them had any idea what they were doing there and many speculated as they whispered amongst themselves. Suddenly, the door opened and General Brooks marched in. Instantly the men fell silent. The general walked past one of the huge hearths, the blaze silhouetting his small frame. Brooks gazed around the room at his scouting captains. The doors to the hall were closed.

  Brooks addressed his
men. “Captains, I will not keep you long. I will be sending all of you on a mission of the gravest importance. I cannot give you every detail at this time, but what I know I will share with you now. But remember this,” he said sternly. “Do not repeat what I tell you to your men until you are on your way.” The general paused, to ensure the importance of his words sank in. Murmuring filled the hall.

  “Now . . . ” Instant silence descended on all. “We have a force approaching our lands from the Steppes, but we do not, at this time, know from which direction it marches. Our king has put this mission as a priority. You and your men are to spread out along the border, to the east and north. If you sight this force, you are to return here to Teldor at once. This is important. Do not delay in returning and I would suggest you have fresh mounts ready en-route to speed up your return. On departure you will be given coin to acquire these mounts. Remember: make haste, as we need as much preparation time as possible. I have notes here of your assigned destinations. Any questions?”

  Marley looked around the hall at his grim-faced colleagues. None were ready to ask any questions. “What is this force, sir? I thought we had a new pact with the Phadrine.”

  General Brooks looked directly into Marley’s eyes for what seemed like an eternity, before answering.

  “It’s better I do not say, but heed this, all of you. They are not the Phadrine, but the deadliest force we will ever face. You will know them when you see them, if they arrive at your location.”

  Marley nodded to his general, knowing he would not get any further information. Brooks stepped down from the dais and sat at a table, where he started calling out

  captains’ names.

  When called, Marley stepped forward and received his location—Single Tooth Gorge. He smiled for two reasons: firstly, he loved that part of Rhaurien and dreamed of raising a family there when he finished his commission. He had heard of a local baron named Thade who gave parcels of land to ex-soldiers at reduced rates. Secondly, he knew the gorge was the most likely location for an army to cross the Glass Mountains. There were only two locations to bring an army through—the pass to the south near Sandall, or Single Tooth Gorge. The latter was the more favoured as an invading army could easily surround Teldor from the northeast. Marley’s team was renowned as the best in the Royal Lancers and so were given the most likely site. General Brooks nodded to Marley, who saluted, turned, and left the hall to ready his men.