Dark Times

by Brian Murray

  Jill thought for a long moment and then nodded slowly.

  Dax smiled at the young woman. “We will be back soon, I promise.”

  “I’ll hold you to that, Dax.”

  “I always keep my promises,” said Dax, his smile broadening.

  Jill found comfort in the man’s smile—somehow, she knew he spoke the truth.

  Dax urged his horse to the next wagon and spoke for a long time to Gan-Goran. Jill saw the old magic-master nod to the warrior, then Dax rode back up the line. Within minutes of their discussion, Dax, Thade, and Tanas disappeared in a cloud of dust, galloping towards the gorge and whatever awaited them on the other side.

  ***

  Marley continued his dash to Teldor. During the day, he pushed his horse, though he did not have the same feeling of being pursued. Even so, he kept away from the main routes to the capital. Now as dusk beckoned, Marley’s fears grew. He crested a hill and in the distance, he could finally see the lights of Teldor below the crimson-streaked sky.

  Relief washed over Marley as he gazed upon the city, and he sighed. The feeling was short-lived. It was not the thought of the oppressive night that scared the scout—it was the howling that had started. Marley twisted in his saddle and stared behind him. Several hills back, in the light of dusk, the Royal Lancer captain could just make out several black dots racing in his direction. Farther back, it seemed as though a dark shadow crossed the land, moving westerly towards him. In the west, the fiery orb sank below the horizon and darkness engulfed the land.

  Marley decided not to wait any longer and urged his horse down the hill towards Teldor. The darkness of night closed in around Marley and his fears grew. His mind drifted back to the scene at Single Tooth Gorge. He had not told his men all that he had seen. He shivered and drew his cloak more tightly around him. Again, he swivelled in his saddle to peer into the darkness behind. It was too dark. He could see nothing. Marley pushed his horse harder and headed for the King’s Highway—the main route to Teldor. He concluded that he would feel safer on the main road . . .

  Again, Marley peered behind him. He still could not see anything but he recognised a sound. The eerie noise carried for miles on the light breeze; unearthly howling. The Royal Lancer scout dared not stop his horse and pushed the tiring beast harder. Alone on the King’s Highway, Marley finally dared ease his pace.

  The rhythmic clunk of the horse’s iron shoes on the crusty baked mud and the sway of the horse made Marley sleepy. He had not slept properly since leaving Single Tooth Gorge and fatigue began to get the better of him. He reached behind him into his pack and pulled out a water canteen. He took a long drink and splashed some of the contents onto his face. A beast howled; the sound was louder than before. The scout shook off his drowsiness. Startled by the nearness of the sound, he heeled his horse into a gallop. The labouring horse did not need a second urging and raced forward, but the pace of the gallop did not last long.

  Marley leaned forward and between breaths whispered soothing words, more for himself than to his mount. “We’re nearly there, brave one. One more hill and we’ll see the city. You can make it. We have to make it.” And then the both of us can rest.

  Marley dug his heels into the horse’s flanks and the animal raced up the slope. The scout captain crested the hill and now he could clearly see the walls of Teldor, and the lanterns above the gates. The volume of the howling behind him grew. In his mind’s eye, he again saw the creatures crossing the bridge at Single Tooth Gorge and he forced the horse down the slope at a crazy speed. Any exposed root or shallow hidden burrow could snap the animal’s leg, and Marley prayed to the Divine One for some luck. Luck was on his side. At times, his horse avoided exposed roots and other dangers by a mere finger’s width.

  Behind the charging horse, the howling got louder, the pitch and sharpness increasing.

  The howling chilled Marley’s soul. At the bottom of the hill, he leaned into his horse, giving the animal its head. He dared not look behind him. He could now hear the thud, thud, thud of pursuers’ footsteps, over the sound of his horse’s drumming hooves. Marley could now clearly see the gates in the outer wall of Teldor, but his horse tired badly and slowed before reaching its destination.

  The howling continued behind him. The sound of heavy footsteps grew louder and louder. Swallowing down his fear, he edged closer and closer to the gates. The scout felt a surge of relief. He could see the shapes of soldiers patrolling the walls. The baying behind him continued. Marley then saw the men stop walking along the wall and stare, pointing in his direction. His horse stumbled, but regained its footing and laboured on towards the gates. The chestnut stallion was getting slower and slower.

  The howling grew in volume and intensity. The pounding of footsteps behind the scout increased in speed and intensity. Panic filled breaths and blood pumping through his veins roared in Marley’s ears, drowning out all other sounds. He wanted to scream, but his throat was tight, turning the sound into a pitiful moan. His horse stumbled again but bravely raced on. Sweat coated Marley’s body and streamed down his dirty face. White foamy lather coated the labouring horse’s neck and flanks. The captain’s breathing became short pants. He wanted to scream, but fear locked the distressed sound in his throat.

  The chasing footsteps got louder.

  The gates of Teldor beckoned.

  Suddenly, Marley was bathed in the warm orange lantern light of the outer gates of Teldor. Instantly the howling evaporated in the night. The pursuit stopped. The drumming footsteps ceased. He was safe. Marley pulled his horse to a walk and turned in the saddle to peer into the gloomy blackness. Nothing—he could not see anything. All he could hear was the exhausted blowing of his horse and his own panting. The roaring in his ears stopped, and Marley gave thanks.

  “Who goes there?” called a guard.

  Marley ignored the question, continuing to stare into the night.

  “Who goes there?” repeated the guard.

  After a long pause, Marley turned to face the guards, and for the first time in a long while, smiled.

  “I am Captain Marley of the Royal Lancer Scouts, here to report urgently to General Brooks.”

  He heard muffled voices above on the wall. “Do not hinder me, or General Brooks will have you flogged. My orders from the general are to report to him as soon as I arrive—day or night.”

  There were more muffled voices on the wall, but this time they suggested a more heated discussion. Finally, “Open the gates!” was ordered.

  Huge metal bolts clunked, the retaining bar was released, and one of the wooden gates to the city slowly swung open. Marley entered Teldor—and safety. He passed through the open gate and faced two Royal Lancers holding spears crossed, blocking his path. The captain in charge looked at Marley and his dishevelled clothes with suspicion. “You say you have to report to General Brooks?”

  “Aye, day or night. The general ordered I should be presented to him as soon as I arrive in the city. And you, Captain, are hindering his orders.”

  The captain stared at the man on the horse in front of him. “I have not received any such orders. Lots of strange things have been happening and we’ve been kept in the dark.”

  “Well then, Captain, we’d better go and ask General Brooks. I’m tired. I have travelled non-stop for several days and can do without this nonsense.”

  “Nonsense . . . Nonsense, you say? Well, let’s go and see General Brooks—I’ll be happy to see you flogged for your insolence,” concluded the gruff guard with a sneer.

  The captain called for his horse, and with four other Royal Lancers, escorted Marley through the city. Marley was surprised by the lack of activity. There was usually more movement in Down Town, with the taverns full and pay-maidens plying their trade, but the city seemed quiet. They passed through Up Town, and still very little movement greeted him.

  After a short while, the group reached the inner gates. The gates were opened and the men escorted Marley straight to the Royal Lancers’ barracks. They r
eached the stable yard, where they dismounted and several lackeys took their horses. Marley eased himself slowly off his horse, and nearly collapsed from weariness. The horse had done him proud. Marley stroked the damp neck of his chestnut and whispered his thanks. He was in Teldor and his mission was nearly complete. He then turned to face the barracks. One of the men rushed ahead inside to locate General Brooks. He returned with another Royal Lancer Scout.

  “Is this man who he claims he is?” asked the captain.

  “Marley, when did you get back?” asked the scout, frowning.

  Marley smiled when he recognised his friend, Louis, Commander of the Scouts. “I have just arrived back and need to report to General Brooks immediately.”

  Louis shot a glare at the Royal Lancer captain who had escorted Marley to the barracks. “This man is the best scout captain the Royal Lancers have, and you treat him like a common criminal? Shame on you.”

  The captain was about to speak, but the commander cut him off. “Marley, the general is in the palace and he left standing orders that if any of you should return, you are to be shown to the king’s private chambers.”

  Marley looked at his hands, realising he was filthy, and pulled a disgusted face.

  Louis saw Marley’s expression, but smiled at his friend. “Straight away, Marley. Captain, you’re dismissed. Return to the outer gates. Marley, let’s go.”

  Louis escorted Marley through the barracks to the palace’s private gardens. When they reached the gardens, the scout captain took Marley through the servants’ entrance by the kitchens. Once inside several axe-wielders stopped their progress.

  “This is Captain Marley,” announced Louis, “Royal Lancer Scout, with an urgent report for General Brooks.”

  The axe-wielder looked at the dirty scout captain, nodded, and said, “Follow me.” The massive warrior led the way through the maze of corridors door guarded by two more axe-wielders. “This man is here to see General Brooks.”

  “I have orders they are not to be disturbed,” said one of the guards.

  “Pardon me?” asked Marley, astonished.

  “They’re not to be disturbed,” repeated the axe-wielder, looking disapprovingly at Marley’s filthy attire.

  “Now you listen to me you, damn idiot. I have just travelled across three quarters of our Kingdom without rest, to report to General Brooks. I have lost my company to God only knows what, and I’m now standing outside the door with my general inside and you’re stopping me. That’s it, you fool!”

  At the point of losing all patience, Marley drew his crossbow and grabbed one of the guards, pointing the bolt at the man’s head. “Open the bloody door and let me report to my general, or this idiot dies.”

  “Stay calm,” countered the other axe-wielder.

  “I’ll show you calm,” growled Marley.

  ***

  General Brooks sat with King Zane, Rayth, Zorain, and Emyra. The general started to speak when an almighty fracas outside the door disturbed him.

  “What the hell is going on?” cried Rayth, throwing up his massive arms.

  At that moment, the door burst open and a man entered the room, walking backwards, holding an axe-wielder by the neck. Once in the room the man, turned sharply to face the group. Without a second thought, both Rayth and Brooks placed themselves between the unknown guest and their king.

  Marley immediately recognised his general and let the axe-wielder go. Rayth stood between Marley and Zane, his eyes locked on the intruder, fists clenched ready to strike.

  “This man . . . ” started the axe-wielder, rubbing his neck.

  “Captain Marley, how are you?” asked General Brooks.

  “This man . . . ” started the axe-wielder again, gulping air.

  “GET OUT!” roared General Brooks so loudly it caused everyone in the room to jump.

  The chastised axe-wielder left the room, closing the door quietly behind him. Zane stared at the scout captain who had just entered his private chambers holding a loaded crossbow.

  “Captain Marley, I think it would be wise if you lowered your crossbow. You’re in the presence of our liege,” said Brooks.

  Marley shot a look at the young man sitting at a desk, behind a towering warrior. Realisation struck him like a blow. He instantly dropped his crossbow, which clattered on the floor, and bowed.

  “Excuse my ignorance, my liege. I have standing orders to find General Brooks and report to him as soon as I arrive in Teldor.”

  “Relax Captain, you’re excused. I would also like to hear your report, but first, please sit. Would you like a drink?”

  “That would be most generous, your Highness.”

  Zane rose from his chair, fetched a goblet from the far side of the room, and placed it next to General Brooks. He then poured the scout a drink of watered wine and handed it to him. Marley nearly dropped the drink. His king had poured him, a mere soldier, a drink!

  “Thank you,” he managed.

  “You have a report?” asked Zane softly, standing and leaning on his desk in front of the seated scout.

  “Yes, sire.” Marley took a sip of his drink to sooth his dry throat. “Sire, General, I have seen the force you mentioned pass through Single Tooth Gorge, but they’re not men . . . they are beasts. Beasts that are not of this world. Of that I’m sure.”

  “Beasts?” asked General Brooks, frowning.

  “Yes sir. Beasts—tall black beasts, some lumbering, some as swift as the wind. They howled like nothing I have ever heard. Then there were the massive warriors on huge horses.”

  “Warriors?” asked Zane, shifting his weight.

  “Yes sir. Warriors on huge horses that would make our largest horses look like mountain ponies.”

  “They’re new,” said Brooks, looking across at Zane.

  Zane just nodded and turned his attention back to Marley. “Your men?” asked the king.

  “I don’t know, sire. We split up, to increase our chances of getting here. One I know for sure died. As for the others, I can only but hope they have survived.”

  “Thank you, Marley. Get some rest and we’ll call you in the morning. Please don’t relay what you saw to anyone, except those in this room.”

  Marley rose and bowed to his king. He formally saluted his general and nodded at the two others present in the room.

  “One question, Marley,” said Zane.

  “Yes sire,” said the scout turning back to face his king.

  “How much time do you think we have?”

  “Sire, I would say their scouts would be searching the area outside our city as we speak, and the army, in its entirety, will be here within a few days, a week at most.”

  “Thank you,” said Zane, gloomily showing the Royal Lancer scout to the door. The Rhaurien king slowly closed the door, then turned to face his guests.

  “Well, we’ve been planning for the last month, let’s put the final part of our plan into action. General Brooks, can you have someone notify Admiral Rendel, please?”

  General Brooks, Zorain, and Emyra left the king’s private chambers, leaving Rayth alone with Zane. “I do not like this,” said the former axe-wielder, shaking his head.

  Zane sat in the chair previously occupied by Emyra, next to Rayth. “Please Rayth, I need this. Can you do as we have discussed?”

  Rayth looked into Zane’s stormy-grey eyes for a long while, then nodded. “I will do as you ask, Zane. I’m not doing this for you as my king, but for you as my future son-in-law.”

  “Thank you, Rayth,” said Zane, rising.

  The two men embraced, then Rayth left the young king alone with his thoughts. Zane returned to his desk and started to read another report. He put the parchment down and massaged the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. The stress was getting to the young king, but now was not the time to think of himself. He had to think about an invading army, and protecting his people. Zane smiled his crooked smile as he thought through his plan again. Much could go wrong and much depended upon
timing and a huge amount of luck. Zane rose from his desk. He could not sit still and let other people handle all the necessary tasks—that was not his way. He left his office and made his way through the palace. Soon, the young king stood at the docks with his admiral, discussing strategies.

  ***

  The Dark One and his Dread took their time, cutting a swathe across the Kingdom and leaving a trail of wanton slaughter in their wake. The creatures killed everything in their path: men, women, children, and animals—all were exterminated.

  The green rolling hills were churned and looked like ploughed fields after being gouged by claws, talons, and hooves that ripped through turf, exposing the rich brown soil. Farm after farm, village after village, town after town, were all razed to the ground as the beasts from Hell marched relentlessly towards Rhamagabora—Teldor. The frenzy of bloodletting fuelled the beasts, leaving them always wanting more, much more.

  The Dread reached the low rolling hills of the Kingdom, three days away from Rhamagabora. Malice issued a command to change the marching column into a thin line, to arch across the countryside and surround the city port. The Dread closed in on Rhamagabora—nothing was going to stop them feasting at the city where the Dark One had suffered his only defeat.

  ***

  Dax, Thade, and Tanas carefully rode through Single Tooth Gorge, two days after Marley reported to Zane, then changed direction and headed towards Thade’s home. They passed several towns and villages—all of them had been destroyed. Nothing was left, except the occasional body part, the only reminder that people had recently lived there. Still two days away from the house, the riders’ horses began to tire, and their trek slowed down.

  ***

  The group of women and children with Gan-Goran continued their slow progress to Single Tooth Gorge. The children were happy, with full stomachs, and singing along with the old magic-master. The women were also content, for they were being led to safety. They knew they followed the force that had killed all at Ubert, but Gan-Goran convinced the women that once through the gorge they would be taking a different direction from the enemy army.