by E J Gilmour
Meara shook her head slightly. ‘We must not underestimate our enemy,’ she said, glancing across at Sir Tierran sternly. ‘The Prince of Shadows is bringing more than half of the Zyranian Order, and we don’t know what other evil creatures serve in this army. At very least there will be wyverns, Skatheans, and Northern Sorcerers.’
‘Bring it on,’ said Sir Tierran brashly. ‘I’ve fought Skatheans and Northern Sorcerers in Dravania, Iarthar, and Coran; they’re no match for the Tabarian Knights. We will take the Ecorian Emperor directly to the Prince of Shadows; the war will be over in a matter of days.’
Sir Cian stopped playing his flute for a few moments and gave a curt nod to agree with the bold statements of his fellow knight.
Eben still felt uncomfortable about being referred to as Emperor by the Tabarians. Sir Cian and Sir Tierran would have it no other way; they considered the Ecorians royal by birth. Sir Cian had told Eben that all the Tabarian Knights took three oaths when initiated into the Tabarian Order: to serve the Ecorian family, to defend the people of Veredor against evil, and to protect and shelter widows and orphans. Therefore the two knights were bound by oaths to serve Eben, whether he liked it or not.
‘I hope you are right, Sir Tierran,’ said Meara calmly. ‘You know as well as I do that your sword cannot parry the magic of an enemy wizard. The agility that you depend on may fail you if you find that you are facing so many wizards at once. Imagine the damage that fifty Zyranians could do.’
Sir Tierran harshly looked down toward the blazing fire and pondered Meara’s words for a few moments.
‘The Fire Order should handle those turncoat Zyranians,’ said Sir Tierran.
‘The Fire Order are camped a league or two north of us,’ said Baftel. ‘They seem to not want to come close to the main Irvarian army.’
‘At least we know they’re coming,’ said Sir Tierran, taking from his bag an oversized pipe and a pouch of tobacco.
‘They said they would come. They do tend to keep their word,’ said Meara.
‘And what about the five other Irilians who are supposed to be coming from Iarthar?’ asked Sir Tierran.
‘They are coming as quickly as they can to meet us,’ replied Arlen. ‘The Irilians are currently passing through the Forest of Sorrows. They have been moving day and night to arrive on time.’
‘Then we will all meet up together before the battle,’ said Sir Tierran as he lit his pipe.
The night progressed with a lot of conversation about the approaching battle. The Tabarian Knights were completely confident in their own ability to complete the task. Eben felt somewhat happy at hearing their confidence, regardless of the fact that they were probably underestimating the opposition. Meara and most of the others retired early to their tents. By the end of the evening Eben found he was sitting only with Red, Stella, and Cassiel.
‘How do you feel about the coming battle,’ asked Cassiel.
‘Fine,’ answered Red. ‘The Tabarians are very certain of victory.’
‘I doubt that the Prince of Shadows would be landing in Everdon without a plan of his own,’ said Cassiel. He glanced across a Red through the flames of the fire. ‘I think Meara is right; we shouldn’t underestimate our enemy.’
‘What if I can’t match him?’ asked Eben. They all stared at Eben and fell silent for a few moments.
‘The Fiorian Acartor believes you can,’ said Stella. ‘We all believe in your ability, and we have all seen what you are capable of in the last few months. If you can’t defeat him, no one can. You have to be confident, Eben. Don’t let fear get the better of you.’
‘Stella is right,’ agreed Cassiel. ‘The Fiorians would not have formulated this plan if they didn’t believe we could succeed.’
‘You’re right, Cassiel,’ said Eben. ‘I just feel something is missing. I can’t understand what it is.’
‘It’s natural to feel a little nervous before a battle,’ said Cassiel. ‘Especially when so much hope is placed in your ability to succeed. Don’t worry about anything. Just be yourself. I’m sure everything will be fine.’
**
For two more days the army marched south through the enchanting countryside of Everdon. They passed through many beautiful villages and small towns. Around noon on the second day they marched over a ridge and before them, about a mile ahead, was a large field with thousands of pitched tents and hundreds of blue Everdonian banners.
‘It’s the Everdonian army!’ said Red, his eyes scanning the field.
A great horn sounded and blew five times from the encampment. Within a minute a group of twenty riders rode out to meet the approaching Irvarian army.
King Lenard led the group and was adorned in golden armour with intricate carvings. His long blue cape blew in the wind as he galloped towards them. His helm had two large golden wings proceeding from both sides. Eben thought he looked a little ridiculous. King Edric moved his horse forward to meet with the approaching riders.
‘King Edric. I welcome you and your army to my kingdom,’ said King Lenard.
‘Thank you for the welcome,’ answered King Edric.
‘My army will be ready to march when we learn where the enemy has landed his fleet,’ said King Lenard, his eyes glanced across at Eben, and he smirked. ‘I see the Ecorian descendent rides at the front with your knights. I think you give him too much honour.’
King Edric looked back at Eben. His eyes slowly returned to King Lenard. ‘The Ecorian is our honoured ally; if he wants to ride by my side I will allow him to.’
‘You should be careful where you choose to place your allegiance, King Edric. You may find this Ecorian wants to take your throne. He has tried to lead your daughter astray; he may try to do the same to you.’
‘That’s enough!’ shouted Red, riding forward boldly. King Lenard’s lip curled as he looked viciously at Red.
‘Sir Red of Ortaria. Let me remind you that you are a long way from home. You should be aware I will not take kindly to any…’
‘I won’t have you insult my friend, apologize!’ demanded Red.
King Lenard sneered and lifted his chin. His face became crimson red, and his hand went to his sword hilt. Red followed in kind, ready to draw his own sword to take up the challenge. Eben rode up beside Red. In an instant Stella and Cassiel were also beside them. Both Sir Cian and Sir Tierran were also moving forward.
‘We don’t have time for all this!’ shouted King Edric.
‘That man…that thing…is trying to steal Princess Apherah from me!’ cried King Lenard.
‘Princess Apherah has not yet decided to marry you, King Lenard!’ bellowed King Edric. King Lenard shot a menacing glance at King Edric. The Irvarian king held his head high and gave a commanding stare that silenced the younger king. A stony silence followed before King Lenard spoke.
‘I will concede this time for the sake of our common interests. After the war I will not be so kind and patient,’ said King Lenard as he looked away bitterly. ‘Unfortunately I need you as much as you need me.’
‘This matter is settled for now,’ said King Edric. ‘King Lenard, you will be glad to know the Irilians have learned the Prince of Shadows plans to land his army at Crescent Bay.’
‘I will command my army to be ready to advance south tomorrow morning,’ said King Lenard. ‘Crescent Bay is only a day or two from here.’
**
Eben sat alone in the early evening by a small campfire a little away from the main Irvarian encampment. The Everdon River flowed peacefully by. He was thinking about Princess Apherah and looking forward to the battle being over so he could return to Faircastle. He watched as sparks floated upward into the twilight air above and smiled to himself. Hope filled his heart and soul when he thought of the possibility of a life with Princess Apherah. His thoughts then drifted; he knew he had to discover what happened to his mother and father. He also knew the Prince of Shadows would know the answers. Eben planned to ask him directly before he completed his task.
Sudd
enly Eben felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up. He was surprised to see Baftel’s blind eyes looking down at him.
‘Eben, I have been looking for you and had to use my magic to find you,’ said Baftel, a slight tremor was revealed in his aged voice.
‘Baftel, please take a seat and enjoy the warmth of the fire.’
‘Eben, we must talk. There is something disturbing I must tell you.’
Eben helped the aged wizard sit down and then sat by his side.
‘What’s wrong, Baftel?’ asked Eben, wondering what could be bothering the old wizard so much.
‘I had a vision today, clear and strong; a terrifying vision of a giant spider ready to pounce. I then saw the Ecorian flag covered in blood. Last of all I saw an image of you falling into a deep abyss.’
The feeling of hope diminished in Eben’s heart at hearing Baftel’s words. ‘What does it mean, Baftel?’
‘This is a dark vision. I do not know what it means. You must be careful, Eben.’
Suddenly Acartor and Chiara walked over from the encampment. ‘Ecorian, we have been looking for you,’ said Acartor. ‘We just heard news that the Prince of Shadows has landed his fleet at Crescent Bay as you predicted he would, Baftel.’ Baftel nodded at hearing the news.
‘We will likely attack the enemy army tomorrow,’ said Chiara. ‘King Lenard is insisting that we attack as soon as we arrive. We intend to keep the element of surprise as much as we possibly can. Tomorrow we will set our attack plan in motion and strike the muckron army with all our strength.’
‘I’m ready for the fight,’ said Eben, feeling he had much to fight for: his father, mother, Princess Apherah, his friends, and all the people of Veredor.
‘I’m happy to see that you’re feeling more assured of yourself,’ said Acartor. ‘I believe you can do this, Eben. You were born to.’
**
An hour before dawn the army started to prepare to march. During the night the company of five Irilians from Iarthar and Dravania had joined their group. They were three men and two women. The Irilians names were: Senan, a very tall and lanky man with a long brown beard; Aengus, a young and handsome man who was clean shaven with short dark hair; Elan, an older woman with long auburn hair; Cathal, a very short and stout man with a gigantic nose and a concentrated look etched onto his face; and Nuala, a young beautiful woman with golden hair and deep green eyes.
Eben stood near the front of the army with the Irilians, Tabarians, and his three best friends.
‘So this is the day,’ said Red, looking up to the clouded sky above.
‘The day of reckoning,’ said Cassiel coolly.
A great horn sounded once and resonated across the field. The lines of troops and cavalry started to move forward. Eben rode with Red, Stella, and Cassiel near the front of the Irvarian army. He felt a sense of anticipation growing in his heart.
**
As the day progressed the weather worsened and the overcast sky grew darker and more ominous.
‘There is evil magic at work in the sky,’ said Meara, lifting her eyes toward the southern sky where the darkness intensified.
They could all see the shadowy clouds gathering in the south; it looked like a veil was covering the land. The army marched onward, and a feeling of anxiety was growing among the men.
‘The enemy knows we are coming,’ said Baftel. ‘He is trying to threaten us with this sky.’
‘The man who makes threats is always a coward,’ said Chiara.
They rode on throughout the day, and the sky darkened until the entire land about was shrouded in a gloomy shadow. By mid-afternoon the road led them toward the coast, and from the uplands Eben could see the Southern Sea in the distance. The road then led toward the coast and wound through valleys and over treeless hilltops.
In the late afternoon the army came to the height of a ridge with a clear view over the coast. Before them was a large bay in the shape of a crescent with a rising headland on the western side. The headland towered above the bay with a flattened top and vertical cliffs descending toward crashing waves below. Hundreds of ships were anchored in the bay. Smoke rose from a multitude of fires in the muckron encampment on the foreshore. A group of half a dozen wyverns circled in the black swirling clouds above.
The two kings looked out at the scene of the monstrous army before them. The muckrons had already formed ranks and were prepared for their arrival. Half the enemy army had formed about twenty lines protecting the shoreline of the bay and the anchored ships. The other twenty thousand muckrons were situated around and on the slopes leading to the headland; they were guarding all the approaches from the land.
‘The Prince of Shadows has taken a position at the height of the headland,’ said Chiara. ‘It will be an uphill battle to reach him.’
‘The Zyranians are with the army protecting the bay,’ said Baftel.
‘The answer is simple,’ said King Lenard. ‘We will strike the headland with all our might.’
‘No, such a move would allow the muckrons guarding the shoreline to flank us. We shouldn’t allow them to cut off our possibility of retreat,’ said King Edric.
‘Retreat! If we don’t have victory today we are unlikely to have victory ever again,’ said King Lenard sharply. ‘The enemy only has about twenty thousand muckrons protecting him on the headland. We have fifty thousand men.’
‘King Lenard is right,’ said Acartor. ‘We should focus our attack on the headland.’ King Edric nodded, conceding the fact that King Lenard’s plan was probably the best way to attack.
A great horn sounded and the allied army of Irvaria and Everdon started to march toward Crescent Bay. Red, Stella, and Cassiel rode with Eben at the front of the army.
‘I know the plan is for you to push forward toward the Prince of Shadows with Meara, the Fiorians, and the Tabarians,’ said Red. ‘Stella and I plan to be there with you until the end.’
‘Thanks, Red,’ said Eben, happy that Red and Stella were always such good friends to him.
‘I will also follow if I can,’ said Cassiel.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The army of men moved down the gradual slope. As the land flattened out they formed ranks with the Everdonian army on the eastern side and the Irvarians on the west. The dark clouds in the sky were swirling above, and the smell of smoke drifted up from the pits of fire that were burning among the muckron ranks. Six wyverns circled in the sky. They were swooping down and screeching to intimidate the army of men. Eben sat on his warhorse and watched as the formation developed.
‘The Fire Order has arrived,’ said Meara, looking back toward the top of the rise. Eben looked and saw the fifty wizards of the Fire Order standing behind the ranks of the army.
Acartor and Chiara approached on their horses. They were followed by Sir Cian and Sir Tierran.
‘This is it,’ said Acartor.
‘We will ride with the first cavalry advance. The cavalry will charge the muckron lines at the base of the hill and push toward the headland,’ said Chiara. ‘From there we will climb the rise and hopefully breach the enemy’s defences. The Prince of Shadows will be commanding his army from the height of the headland. He is sure to be well protected by more than muckrons, so be prepared for anything. The key is to keep moving to prevent the enemy focusing his strength on us. We mustn’t slow, and we certainly shouldn’t turn back. The survival of men and mer in Veredor depends on our success.’
Eben took the glass case with the two candles from his backpack and placed it beneath his leather armour. He then tied his backpack to his saddle. King Edric and King Lenard were out in front of the army with their knights. They were discussing the best way to attack.
King Edric rode over. ‘Are you ready?’ he asked Chiara.
‘We are,’ she replied.
‘And you, Eben Ecorian, are you ready?
‘I am.’
‘Good. We will send a first wave of three thousand heavy cavalry and a hundred knights. They will be followed directly by our
main cavalry force. Finally we will send the infantry. Be ready to ride; the charge is about to start.’
A few minutes passed and the feeling of anticipation was growing. King Edric rode forward and lifted his sword. For several moments the King stared out at the enemy ranks. He then turned his mighty warhorse to face his army.
‘For Veredor and freedom!’ he cried as he pointed his sword at the headland. A great horn resounded out across the ranks of men. All at once the heavy cavalry advanced at the pace of a gradual trot. Two hundred Irvarian and Everdonian knights rode out and formed a line at the front.
‘It is time,’ said Chiara as she drew her sword.
Chiara rode forward. Sir Cian and Sir Tierran were quick to follow. Eben moved his horse to a trot. Red was right by his side. Stella, Cassiel, Meara, and Arlen were further back.
‘Here we go again,’ said Red, drawing his sword.
Eben eyes were focused at the enemy front line which was about five hundred yards ahead. The muckrons were forming positions around the base of the rise in order to protect the approaches to the height of the headland. Suddenly the dark clouds above started to glow red.
‘Not fire from the sky again,’ said Red, looking up as they advanced.
Suddenly a flaming beam of bright radiating energy flew over their heads and exploded in the muckron ranks. Dozens of muckrons were sent flying in all directions.
‘That one was from the Fire Order! Watch out! The Zyranians are going to rain fire down on us!’ cried Meara.
A blast of fire shot from the sky and several riders ahead of them fell from their horses. In response a second flaming beam of energy blasted into the muckron ranks and caused an even bigger explosion. A moment later the sky above started to rain fire down on the charging cavalry.
‘Charge!’ cried a knight at the front as he brought his horse to a gallop. The first line of knights all lowered their lances and charged after the leading knight. Eben drew his sword. Fireballs exploded all around, and smoke rose from the burning field. Bright beams of fire continued to smash into the muckron ranks. Meara raised her hand and shielded those around her from the raining fire with a blue shimmering layer of light.