“We should go back and warn the others,” Sindris insisted. I nodded in agreement and we were off.
We ran as fast as we could to reach camp before morning. When we arrived the sun began to peek out from behind Blood Mountain in the east, casting a long, low shadow across the jagged peaks between us. The early risers were beginning to awaken. Felsson, who did not sleep, was waiting silently for the others to wake from their sleep. We ran to him. My father, Patreus and Peitus, who slept nearby, woke to find us catching our breath before Felsson.
“The ambush… has been ambushed.” I spoke between deep breaths. “Ergomet… must have warned Scievah.”
“We suspected him of foul play. He has been missing since yesterday morning,” Sindris added.
“I’m sorry we ran off on our own without telling you.” I thought they would be displeased.
“Never mind that,” Felsson said. “That is good initiative. Leadership. We must move out as soon as we can, and be alert for anything.”
The others began to wake up and ready themselves for battle. Without sleep, I would be of little use. I climbed up onto one of the carts used for carrying food and supplies to the battlefield, rested my head against a sack of grains, and drifted to sleep with my sheathed sword laid across my stomach and my hand wrapped around the handle.
#
The cart bumped and swayed as we passed through the rocky terrain between the ruins and the battlefield. I woke blanketed with animal hides and with Sindris curled up against my body. I slowly peeled her off so as not to disturb her sleep. I stretched my arms and exhaled deeply. My breath made a fog in the brisk morning air and my skin caught a chill. The cold season was surely upon us now.
I jumped down from the cart and walked beside it, looking for my father. I worked my way toward the front of the caravan and found him, along with Gerron, Patreus and Peitus.
“Rest easy?” my father asked.
“Yes,” I answered. They must have known where I was.
“With Sindris.” Peitus laughed and messed my hair in jest.
“She seems to have taken a liking to me,” I responded.
“And you?” my father asked, no doubt wondering about my feelings for Lunaris.
“My heart belongs to Lunaris,” I answered.
Patreus smiled. “Lunaris will be pleased to hear that."
Just then I felt a rubbing tickle on my leg. I looked down to see that one of the lambs had followed me from back by the supply cart. It was no doubt taken along to serve as food on our journey, but the cute animal pressed its head on my leg and looked up at me as if beckoning me.
“It must have followed me. I better take him back to the supplies,” I said.
I turned to walk back the other way but the lamb stayed. I tugged at its wool but it didn’t budge. It turned its head and walked to the side, as if calling me over. I walked with it, out of the line of the caravan. It took me behind a boulder. I knelt down, scratching my fingers beneath its chin.
“What is it, you little thing?” I asked it.
It backed away from me and pressed itself up against the large boulder that hid us from the caravan. Suddenly its wool began to fall out and was replaced with a coarse golden fur. Its body grew and became more muscular, more powerful. Its head lifted up to the sky and changed shape. A mane filled in around its neck and head, and, soon, what stood before me was a large, majestic lion!
Bewildered and frightened, I immediately drew my sword. I had never seen one in person, but I knew the lion was an untamed and deadly beast. It grunted from its nose and shook its head at me. Slowly it took steps toward me. I recalled my encounter with the warbear early in my journey. I put my hand out toward the animal.
“Easy,” I said. “Easy.”
The animal came closer, but was not agitated. When it was close enough to touch, it rubbed its face on my waist and rumbled a deep, beastly purr. I scratched my fingers under its chin again, and it closed its eyes and purred once more. A moment later it knelt beside me like a trained mount, signaling for me to ride on its back. I reluctantly climbed on, slowly settling my weight on. I pet the top of its powerful head, and it began to walk with me on top.
When we came out from behind the boulder we were greeted by the simultaneous sounds of a collective gasp and the ringing of blades as they were loosed from their sheaths. The lion stood upright on its hind legs and roared, forcing me to wrap my hands around the long fur of its mane and hold on with all my might.
“It's alright,” I said. “He is friendly.”
The others stood in disbelief at the sight before them. I thought about Tillius, the ancient who was friend to the wildest of beasts. The kinship he shared with them, spoken of in legends, was real to me now. I felt a bond with this animal at that moment, knowing it would fight and defend me at any cost. It was a kind of loyalty that even gold coins could not buy.
I rode back up near the others at the front of the caravan, and I met similar expressions of astonishment, fear and wonder from all that I passed.
“Look, here comes Tillius,” Peitus joked. “Where ever did you find this animal and how did you mount it without being mauled?” he asked incredulously.
“This is the lamb,” I said. “The lamb transformed into a lion.”
They stared in disbelief for a few moments until Peitus broke the silence. “Then our food has become a soldier!”
CHAPTER 25
We stopped close by the Gates of Uhaaretu, where the terrain sloped downward toward the plains of the ancient battlefield. We saw something flying ahead in the distance. It was one of the dragons. Felgor rode on its back.
Snow fell onto the battlefield in slow, windless delicacy. My father stepped out in front of us and turned to face our men, who had already taken formation for battle. He addressed the front lines, those brave soldiers who would charge in against beast and savage while arrows flew over them and fire rained down from above. He spoke to us, to me.
“Today you give yourself to your brothers. You fight for your freedom. This is not a battlefield before you. It is not death. It is life. It is freedom. The enemy cannot take life from you; they cannot take our loved ones away. If we give our lives here today we shall live on in Eterna, we shall once again see those we have loved and lost. But for others to join us, for others in the future to receive the gift of life eternal, we must fight so that they may know of it. We must fight to preserve purity, to rid this world of the corruption and evil, the despair and death, the rot and rancor that have spoiled it for too long, destroying our lands and our souls. Today we make history. Our names will be remembered, written in the annals of time, passed on in song and rhyme. Win or lose, today we are the revered ancients to some future civilization of pure Haareti. So let the cries of the corrupt carry through eternity and be heard by generations to come. Let the prophecy be fulfilled!”
My father paced back and forth as he spoke his triumphant motivations. The soldiers cheered and grunted in agreement.
Patreus’ eyes were fixed across the battlefield at Felgor. The dragon beat its wings tirelessly, and the low, deep whoosh was like a drum beat. It hovered at the height of three or four men.
“Damn you, Felgor!” Patreus yelled as loud as he could, releasing a lone arrow out into the cold air. It sailed up through the gently falling snow, racing toward the traitor, but it did not have the distance, and was sure to fall short.
Felgor swiftly dismounted the lizor, dropping down from up high. He landed unscathed with a roll, and then raced out toward the arrow as it made its downward arc. His speed of movement was unparalleled. Before the arrow could reach the ground he leapt out, reaching for it and grabbing it with his hand. As his hand clutched the arrow, his body twisted in the air, and he turned toward the dragon. His arm acted like a catapult and he volleyed the arrow forward, launching it upward toward the dragon as he landed back on his feet and drew his sword from the sheath on his back. The arrow turned red as it sped toward the dragon, moving so fast that it bur
st into flames before striking the dragon in its eye.
“That is your traitor, Felgor?” Felsson asked of us. Confused, we did not answer.
The beast screeched in pain and clawed at its face in an attempt to remove the burning arrow from its eye. It landed on the ground, snorting smoke from its nostrils as it walked toward Felgor. It inhaled deeply and then unleashed a plume of fire upon Felgor that enveloped him for several moments. When the dragon ceased, Felgor’s entire body was in flames, but he seemed unharmed. He ran at the beast, sword in hand, leaping up first onto its leg, and then onto its back, as if he were about to ride again. His blade came down swiftly upon the neck of the dragon with the might of both hands. A first swing cut down to the bone, and a second swing severed the beast’s head from its body.
The lizor collapsed to the ground, and Felgor, who looked like a moving fire in the shape of a man, climbed down and walked away from the beast, making his way toward us.
Felsson laughed heartily. “That is not Felgor, mortals. That is Gelande, the keeper of the Firestone!” Our mouths dropped in awe. Felgor was Gelande. He had not betrayed us after all. His cunning ran so deep that he even fooled Scievah, the great deceiver. Our ranks roared with cheer. “Always trust your heart when the character of loved ones comes into question.” Felsson added.
“How can that be? Wouldn’t Scievah have known who he was?” a stunned Patreus asked.
“He must have shape shifted somehow to change his appearance, but his true form is that of flame – what you see now.” Our eyes were fixed upon Gelande as Felsson spoke. “Just as I am earth and stone, Gelande is heat and fire; the embodiment of Uhaaretu. He can even take the shape of smoke.”
The fire that engulfed Gelande faded and his body turned as black as smoke and char. Slowly, as he neared us with a mischievous grin, his body transformed back into the form we all knew, back to Felgor.
"I, I," Patreus stammered, likely beginning what was to be an apology.
"No need," Gelande interrupted. "It is time." He motioned out toward the battlefield. "But I will need some clothes." He was completely naked. His clothes had been burnt to a crisp and fallen away during the fight. Felsson laughed uncontrollably.
Scievah’s army charged from across the other side of the battlefield upon seeing their Soul Collector betray them for the pure. Only two remained, Hadlick and Scievah, but Scievah was nowhere to be seen. He was not at the battle, and there was no sign of the dreaded Pantagruelian. Something was amiss, but the battle had begun. There was no time for thoughts, only action.
My father yelled for the front lines to take the field, and in an instant, we were in the grips of battle. Our men ran out to meet the onslaught of warbears and ravenous cannibals. Felgor stood beside me, raising his arms into the air. Before our men could reach the center of the battlefield to clash with the enemy, he spoke several unknown words. Suddenly a large group of the savage-like barbarians turned upon themselves. Felgor was a Soul Collector, and like Hadut did at Mir’Dinaas, he was able to control the actions of some who pledged their souls to Scievah.
His minions attacked the men mounted on warbears, dragging them to the ground and tearing into their flesh with teeth and fingernails. The warbears broke loose, running free from their masters, attacking both rider and savage alike. Our men stood watching the chaos unfold before their eyes. When Felgor lowered his arms many of the barbarians fell limp to the ground, dead.
Soon, a second wave of attack came out onto the field in the form of armored men. Our archers unleashed round after round of arrows out over our heads, thinning their numbers. Then our soldiers clashed with them in the field. I rode out on my lion to join them, with Patreus, Peitus and my father on foot at my side.
Felsson raised his arms and the remaining warbears found themselves ensnared in barbed razorbrush and tangled in thick vines. One by one I rode up to them. My lion wrapped its clawed paws around them and sank its fangs into their necks. But several broke free from Felsson’s snares. Three of them charged at me. I could feel the ground trembling beneath my feet. I held my sword at the ready, and crouched low to the ground with my sword pointed upward at an angle. Since warbears attack from above, pouncing downward on their victims, the best way to attack them was from that position, letting their own weight impale them. This would ensure that at least one of them would die if I was to be torn apart by the others. But as they charged in, my lion bounded in from the flank, leaping forward with its paws outstretched. The lion tackled two of them down as they charged mid-stride.
The third warbear continued toward me. It stood up on its hind legs, unleashed a deadly roar, and leaned down over me to strike. I wedged the hilt of my sword between my foot and the ground, anchoring it in place at an upward angle. The warbear fell upon my blade as it came down onto me. The sword passed through its heart and nearly out the back of the bear. I quickly rolled out of the way before its weight crushed me underneath. It was dead.
I pulled my sword from the beast and turned to see the lion fighting both of the other warbears at the same time. It stood upon its rear legs and swatted at them with its razor sharp claws. One stroke swept across the underbelly of a warbear, nearly spilling its guts onto the ground. The lion moved in for a final neck crunching bite that put the wounded warbear down for good. Then it made quick work of the other.
The sound of a conch shell bounded in from the south, and a legion of Aquidian armsmen slithered into battle with nets and tridents. A beautiful and elegantly finned naga creature was leading them. It was Luna. She seemed to be surrounded by a bright bubble of some kind. Her body glowed, changing color from green to blue, and her eyes beamed a radiant white. A variety of elegant and multi-colored fins and spines protruded out on her back from the top of her spine down to the end of her tail.
Her forces came up from behind the impure and attacked their rear. Occasionally Luna shot powerful streams of water from her hands that knocked the impure soldiers backward and caved in their chests. We were off to a good start, I thought.
#
Snow mixed with blood as the battle raged on into the night. Wood and metal met with flesh and bone. Limbs were strewn across the field like pebbles on a riverbed. The grotesque site made me gag in sickness, but I pressed on, trying to block the visions from entering my mind and heart. War was a terrible thing, but in this case, a necessary thing. Regardless of the outcome, the pure needed to stand up and fight against tyranny.
But our men grew tired, and we were severely outnumbered despite our advantages in skill and fighting prowess. The impure began to launch flaming arrows into the night sky, without regard to hitting their own soldiers. The dark wizards unleashed their fury upon us with fire, and Hadlick, who seemed to be leading the enemy forces, approached on wings of death. We were losing.
The fires around us put a glow over the battlefield. Luna’s efforts were endless at dousing the flames with the water she summoned. The fires, as damaging to us as they were, also warmed us and allowed many to see in the night. But Luna flooded the most deadly fires and tried her best to extinguish any flames that enveloped the victims of Hadlick’s dragon above.
I dismounted my lion, letting it attack the enemy on its own. Somehow the intelligent beast knew who was pure and who was not. I unsheathed my sword and fought beside my friends. In the distance we saw three giants that stood three times our height. They were the same abominations I saw back on the other side of the Great Divide, earlier in our journey. They wielded massive weapons. One swung a battle axe, one a spiked club, and the other a mallet-like maul hammer or mace. Their fury and destruction was frightening. Our soldiers’ armor was useless, and none could get close enough to strike them.
I called upon a few of our most skilled archers to barrage them with a hail of arrows as we made our way toward them. We would have to work together to get close enough to take them down. Hopefully they would be weakened by arrows before we moved in.
The arrows flew and struck them in the legs and arms,
weakening them, but they fought through it. We encircled them, and the archers stopped firing for our safety. Aside from their newly found arrow wounds, they all had one common weakness; they swung large, two handed weapons that could only harm someone at a specific distance. If we could get past that range and in close, their weapons would be useless. If we could strike quickly and do enough damage, we could gain the upper hand.
Just then a massive root sprang up from the ground between them. Shocked, they lowered their weapons and became unfocused. We took that opportunity to move in. We ran up close and slashed at them with everything we had, ducking under the swings of their brutish weapons, and rolling out of the way of their kicks. I sunk my blade into one of the giants’ feet, and then slashed another behind its knee. The others made similar wounds, and we retreated out of their range.
I looked back to see that Felsson had provided the diversion that allowed us to strike. He waved his rocky hand to us. We stepped further back, and I gave the signal to the archers to continue firing arrows. The giants had dropped to their knees, now feeling the deep piercing of several arrows in their torsos and backs. Their weapons dropped to their sides, and we moved back in to deal the killing blows. The giants had fallen.
#
Patreus dashed out in a sprint, hurdling limbs and bodies, ducking slashes at his head, and parrying thrusts as he ran like lightning. He was charging at Ergomet. Finally our suspicions were confirmed once and for all. He was fighting for the enemy, even wearing the crest of Scievah over his scaled body.
His back was turned to Patreus. He raised a trident up over his head, about to plunge it into one of the young men who fought for our cause; he was younger than me, still just a boy. Patreus let out a blood curdling scream when he buried his blade into Ergomet’s back. The trident fell to the ground beside him as he turned to face Patreus with his mouth open, not breathing. Blood gurgled up from deep within, and he coughed, gasping for air. Patreus released the blade and began to pummel Ergomet with his fists, knocking him to the ground. The young boy ran away, frightened by the rage that Patreus had unleashed on the traitor. Patreus didn’t stop until he wore himself out.
The Return of the Fifth Stone Page 33