Knights End

by Brad Clark

  Nikki’s response was firm and direct, with a slight hint of anger. “The lineage of my family ruling the Hurai goes back as far as history can go. To break that lineage would be to disgrace all my ancestors, and to defy the One God himself!”

  “Then it is settled. You must be queen.”

  “Of course, I must! Why are you arguing with me and trying to convince me otherwise?”

  Aeneas lightly shook his head. “You said yourself you would make a horrible queen. Don’t confuse duty with obligation. You just said that if you do not become queen, you will defy the One God. Yet, he has made you a warrior through and through. You have leadership skills, I can see that, but do you have the temperament for ruling? Do you have a willingness to compromise your principles and beliefs for the betterment of your people? Sometimes, as ruler of a nation of individuals, what you might think is right for some may not be right for the many, and then we must compromise not to keep the peace, but to build the strong foundation of your kingdom. Refusing to compromise will only tear a kingdom apart, and a hard-nosed warrior such as yourself would be hard-pressed to compromise, right?”

  Nikki started to respond. She even got to the point of opening her mouth to reply. She absolutely did not believe that anyone should compromise their beliefs or principles, for that is the core of who they are. Once compromise happened, then all respect and trust would be lost. If her decisions twisted with the wind, in the end, no one would be happy as she tried to make everyone happy. Yet, as she pondered those thoughts, she thought about her father, who was a wise and firm king, who did not compromise at all. He stood by his beliefs and principles, and the kingdom was falling down around him. He refused to even listen to the rebellious villages and threatened to send his soldiers there to quell the uprising. She would do the same thing, for how could the villagers dare to try and subvert the authority of the king? Certainly, she would not have had the patience of her father. She would have sent the Sak’Hurai in to suppress their arrogant uprising.

  She let out a heavy sigh. She would have killed her own people without listening to them only because they were defiant, regardless of whether or not their defiance was justified.

  “I would not make a good ruler,” she said softly. “I would rule with a sword, as is my nature.”

  “The worst rulers are the soldiers,” Aeneas agreed. “Politicians are slimy and unscrupulous. Taran politics is rife with corruption, but our empire has grown tremendously at the same time. Our people are fed, fat, and happy. It is not perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but it works, and works well enough for our empire to grow and be prosperous.” He let his words fade into the twilight. With his own heavy sigh, he corrected himself. “I mean, they were fat and happy, until they were all killed.”

  “I’m sorry for your people. And your family.”

  A gentle smile crossed his face. “Thanks,” he replied softly.

  Nikki wasn’t sure what else to say, so she remained quiet. Her gaze moved from the flames of the fire to Aeneas’ face, which was somber and still. His eyes were also focused on the fire, watching the flames dance around the logs. A tingling sensation tickled the back of her neck, and then quickly spread through her entire body. At first, she thought it was her feelings and emotions that were overwhelming her, but then the look on Aeneas’ face caused some concern. His head tilted, and his eyes showed confusion.

  “What is that?” he asked, looking around.

  She stood, turning in place. Like a wave, the Bargoroth army that had been spread out from the village began to rise and look about. The tingling became uncomfortably hot, almost to the point of being painful. Rubbing her neck did not help. Whatever was happening to her was not on the skin, but deep inside her, and she could not stop it.

  She spun around, looking for an attack, but all she saw was the sea of Bargoroth acting as she was, searching for the source of the strange feeling.

  Then she saw it. It started as a bright bluish-white light in the middle of the field, about a hundred yards from where she was standing, hovering just above their heads. There were many Bargoroth around it, and they began to run away in panic, causing a minor stampede. After a few seconds, the light began to expand into a glowing ring of fire that touched the ground, lighting the grass on fire. Fortunately, the ground was wet enough that the weeds and grasses did not catch on fire. They were charred from the flames that immediately died out. Slowly, the ring grew in size. It became wider than tall, spreading to her right and left until it nearly touched one of the village’s buildings at least two hundred yards from where she was standing.

  The ring of blue flame began to pulsate, tips of the flame exploding up high into the air and far out to the side. The building that was near the ring was hit by the flames, singing the thatched roof, but not setting it on fire. Bargoroth that were still close to the ring were also singed, causing them to run away, shouting and cursing in their language.

  Instinctively, Nikki drew her swords. Aeneas pushed himself to his feet and stood at her side.

  “Is this an attack from the Deceiver?” Aeneas asked.

  Nikki could only assume so, but she could not speak, as she was frozen in awe.

  The air within the ring began to shimmer, disrupting her view of the field beyond the ring. The shimmering continued for several minutes until the area was entirely hidden by a light gray fog, then it flashed white, temporarily blinding everyone who was looking at it.

  When her vision cleared, she thought she saw the field beyond the ring. It was a field, but it was not what she had seen before. In the distance, within the circle, there were tree-covered mountain peaks. The trees came down from the mountains and ended in the distance, and in front of the trees was an army marching towards them. They were columns of men with swords, shields, and spears, heavily armored and ready for battle.

  “The Deceiver is coming here,” Nikki said. “To arms! We must gather the army together to fight!”

  Before they could move, a dark shadow crossed from one side of the ring to the other, and then a large creature flew through the ring from the other side. It flew in so fast, they could not see what it was until it slowed and hovered above them.

  “Myllia?” Nikki said.

  The golden-eyed Dragon pumped her wings slowly, but with enough force to keep her above them.

  “Hurry!” they all heard in their heads. “The ring will not stay open long, but long enough for you to come through. The army you see is the enemy. It is time.”

  Myllia did not wait. She twisted her body and pumped her wings with enough force to generate a stiff breeze. Then she flew back through the ring of fire, heading for the columns of enemy soldiers.

  Barr ran up to Nikki, out of breath. Between gasps for air, he asked, “What devilry is this!”

  “This is why we were waiting,” Nikki said. “We follow the dragon through the ring.”

  Barr hesitated for a moment.

  “Are you afraid?”

  Barr’s eyes narrowed. “Do not insult me.”

  “Then lead your men through that ring of fire,” Nikki said.

  Barr let out a grunt and walked away to gather his warriors.

  Aeneas had drawn his sword and limped up to Nikki. “Let’s go,” he said.

  “You can barely move, and you barely have enough strength to hold your sword. Don’t waste your life.”

  Aeneas lifted an eyebrow and then laughed. “Are you really telling me not to fight with you? Fighting is what I do. It is who I am.”

  “Stay close,” Nikki said, without hesitation. There was no chance that she would ever be able to convince him to not fight, so she simply embraced his decision.

  Drumbeats started, and Barr lead his warriors through the ring of fire. The first few ranks hesitated for a moment, as their apprehension of the magical ring of fire almost overwhelmed them. The press of the warriors behind them caused the first ranks to be pushed through, but once they were emerged on the other side and realized they survived, th
ey smelled blood and rushed after the Deceiver’s soldiers.

  “Are you coming?” Kile asked, nearly out of breath. Once the flaming ring had appeared, he had sprinted through the Bargoroth army to reach Nikki.

  They were surrounded by Bargoroth warriors pushing their way towards the ring of fire. Aeneas moved first, limping and hobbling his way towards the fight. Nikki followed, just behind him.

  “He won’t last five minutes,” Kile said, trotting beside Nikki. “Look at him. He can barely walk.”

  Nikki looked at Kile and gave him a stern gaze. “He’s a soldier. He’ll do fine.”

  “He’s a general who’s stayed behind the fighting for most of his life. How long do think it’s been since he actually fought alongside his Centurions?”

  “Would you do any different if it were you?” Nikki snapped back. He did not reply immediately, which answered her question. “Then don’t judge. Just stay close and watch his back.”

  She turned and pushed her way through the Bargoroth warriors to catch up to Aeneas. Side by side, the three ran through the ring of fire, shouting at the top of the lungs, readying themselves for the bloodiest fighting any of them had ever been involved n.

  ***

  Marik felt the rush of battle spread through every ounce of his being. This was the type of fighting that they had trained for. Soldier against soldier. Fighting the goblins was difficult, even though they were easy to kill. They were unpredictable and fearless. Soldiers were just men, and they could be intimidated and forced to run with overwhelming might. The charge of his Knights was thunderous, even with only a fraction of what their number should be. Their hooves of the warhorses pounded hard on the muddy ground, sending chunks of dirt and grass flying behind them. The goblins had not been intimidated but such a charge, but hardened soldiers would find it difficult to hold their ranks tight.

  Ahead, he had hoped to see the ranks of the enemy wavering at their charge, but they did just the opposite. It didn’t mean they weren’t fearful. It only meant they were disciplined and hardened soldiers. The front ranks lowered their shields and spears and set themselves to receive the charging Knights. He wished he had a lance to strike the formation first. The lance would shatter on impact, but it would break the lines and cause enough disruption to let them get close enough at full speed. If they charged through at full speed now, their horses would be impaled by spears, and they would be sent tumbling to the ground. For a few seconds, he wondered what it would be like if they had a full thousand Knights charging at the enemy, each with a hardened lance. Even the thought of it sounded intimidating. No wonder the Karmon Knights were feared as the greatest force that ever existed. It wasn’t only their individual skill that made them powerful, but their collective tactics. Each one on their own was strong, but together, they were unbeatable.

  They were only seconds away from the front line of the enemy when a sharp tingling sensation came over him. He had felt it before, but not this strong. Never would he understand the power of magic, and most of the time he feared it, but at this moment, he welcomed anything that could help them win this war. Seeing the whites of the eyes of the enemy, and smelling their collective sweaty odor, he didn’t have time to think about what else was happening around them. His goal was to disrupt the enemy army and kill as many of them as possible.

  Their warhorses wanted to crash headfirst into the line of enemy soldiers, but the Knights knew that was suicide. Just before they reached the first tip of spears, they pulled their horses from a sprint to a fast walk, allowing them to push into the front lines and not be impaled. The enemy was expecting a full charge and had planted themselves in a defensive stance, which left them open to attack when the Knights quickly changed their tactics.

  Marik led the way, swinging his sword, slicing down onto the enemy, hacking a path for his Knights to follow.

  ***

  The ring of fire stretched across the ground in front of her. Most everyone was jumping over it, afraid to touch the fire. She hopped over it as well but did not feel any heat from it. A tingling sensation swept through her body but it only lasted for the instant she passed from the fields of Taran to the mountains of Karmon. The enemy was spread out before her, grouped into neat regiments that were marching across the muddy fields at the base of the mountains. Karmons on horseback had already engaged one of the regiments, but there were too few of them to last long.

  Drumbeats from drums near them were pounding directions to the Bargoroth warriors.

  “Barr is leading his warriors towards their main force,” Nikki shouted over the pounding of the drums. “Over there are Karmons on horseback that need help.”

  She grabbed the thick fur pelt of the closest Bargoroth and pointed toward the Karmon Knights. “That way!”

  The Bargoroth responded, but in his own language. He started to walk away, but Nikki grabbed on his fur pelt again. The warrior snapped his head around more in irritation than anger. Aeneas quickly intervened and quickly spoke to the Bargoroth. The warrior let out a grunt and shouted out to those around him. They all started running towards the Karmon Knights.

  “You can speak to them?” Nikki asked.

  “Know your enemy,” he responded. “I’ve been out here a long time, and their language isn’t that difficult to learn.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “I reminded them that it was you who killed Olofar, and they were obligated to follow you.” His lips spread into a wide smile. “Or something like that.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Kile said. “If we’re going to save them, we have to get moving.”

  Without another word, she began running across the field towards Sir Marik and his Knights. She kept her pace, so Aeneas did not fall behind. She could see he was suffering, but he pushed forward, running as fast as his wounded feet could take him.

  The three of them reached the enemy soldiers a dozen steps behind the last of the Bargoroth warriors, which allowed them to pick and choose how they were going to join into the fight. Many of the enemy soldiers had turned away from the Knights and were now engaged with the Bargoroth warriors. Nikki did not hesitate to engage the enemy, swinging her sword, slicing through their armor as if it were nonexistent. Her superior quickness was even more apparent because they wore bulky armor and swung large twin-bladed broadswords. They were tough and resilient, though. They fought hard and without fear, even when the barbarians arrived with overwhelming numbers.

  The Karmon Knights had pushed their way into the enemy soldiers, but they were not faring well. Only a handful were still mounted, swinging down trying to not only kill their opponents but also to keep their horses from getting cut out from under them. The large warhorses did their best to help, kicking with their strong hooves, knocking down any soldier that ended up behind them. She pushed on, knowing that the only way they could survive would be for her to reach them.

  ***

  Atop his large warhorse, Marik swung down with his sword, slicing deep into the skull of an enemy soldier. He gave a sharp yank on his sword to pull it free and then swung it down towards another. The strike was blocked, but he spun his horse, knocking the soldier to the ground with the horse’s muscular haunches. Without having to direct her, Marik’s warhorse stepped backward right onto the fallen soldier, breaking enough bones to keep him from ever walking again. Again and again, Marik’s sword swung down to kill, and his shield swung out to protect himself, but it was clear that the charge of the Karmon Knights had done little to make a dent in the enemy’s front line. At worst, he had been hopeful that their charge would cause many of the enemy soldiers to turn and run. Unfortunately, the enemy soldiers were too disciplined to be a victim of fear and fought harder and braver than he had hoped.

  He knew it was only a matter of time before a sword or spear would catch him with a hard blow to knock him off his horse. His quick and strong arms kept his sword and shield at the ready, blocking any attack that got too close, but he knew it wouldn’t last. Eventually, his
arms would tire, and he would be just a split second too slow, and he would be unable to block a deathblow. Fatigue was a more challenging opponent, for he could not outwit his muscles losing their strength and endurance. He could push and grind all he wanted, but eventually, his body would give out, and death would follow quickly.

  As he swung his sword, killing the enemy with nearly every blow, Marik saw too many fallen Knights around him. They had all fought to their last breath, dying courageously fighting for what they believed in. His mind drifted, thinking about how the world would be if they lost. With his demise inevitable, he let his focus slip. Coupled with his growing fatigue, he missed parrying a spear aimed for his horse’s heart.

  The horse dropped immediately, and adrenaline pumped through his system, giving him a temporary boost of strength and focus. Without having to think about what to do, his body reacted for him, performing a maneuver he had practiced many times. Although he had never really perfected it when wearing a full suit of armor, he did it well enough to not be crushed under the weight of his warhorse. The warhorse fell forward, then to his left. Marik released his left foot from his stirrup and twisted his body to jump free of the saddle. He landed hard on his sword arm, and it went instantly numb, and he lost his grip on the sword, which went sliding away out of his reach. Not thinking about his sword, he kept his momentum going into a shoulder roll, knowing that if he came to a stop on his back, he would not be able to get up quickly. If he rolled far enough, he could use his momentum to get up onto his feet. It was a move that was first taught to him as a squire, and he did it flawlessly, ending up on his feet, surrounded by the enemy.

  The daggers were still in his belt. He pulled those out and jumped at the first soldier that came after him. He used his left arm to parry a sword strike. Fortunately, he caught the flat of the blade against his arm, which allowed him to keep his arm, but the shock of the blow reverberated through his body. Quickly, he drove his dagger up and into the chest of the soldier. The soldier let out a gasp and fell backward, the blade embedded in his chest. Marik let the dagger go and turned to face the next combatant.