The Labyris Knight

by Adam Derbyshire

  Kerian’s mouth went dry at the prospect of being lost somewhere in this vast desert wasteland, so he nudged Toledo with his heels and urged the mount to catch up. Several laborious minutes later, with Toledo’s legs sinking into the sand up to his hocks, they arrived at the crest of the dune to observe Octavian standing high on his stirrups, his headscarf removed, shading his eyes and looking first one way and then the other for any signs of a pole with a flashing silver bell on the top ringing in the storm.

  “Any luck? Can you hear a bell?” Kerian asked, licking his lips nervously and realising how dry and cracked they had become.

  “It will be you hearing bells in a moment if you don’t shut up.” Octavian warned angrily, turning about and repeating his actions, desperately trying to hear some sound to guide their way onwards.

  Kerian moved to copy his associate, desperate to help in some way and assuage the guilt he felt for getting them into this predicament. However, Toledo was not having any of this and started off down the far side of the dune, roughly jostling Kerian along with him. Fumbling with his headscarf, Kerian tried to uncover his ears with his free hand whilst steadying himself using the pommel of the saddle with the other but all he could hear was the constant whistling of the wind and the rasping whisper of the mobile sand.

  Toledo finally came to a violent stop at the base of the dune, almost unseating his rider, then started to paw and stomp the ground clearly agitated. Kerian looked around seeing nothing other than what appeared to be a never-ending wall of sand ahead of them.

  They were lost! Lost in the Vaarseeti! The recognition of this fact sent a cold chill through Kerian’s form despite the heat of the desert. They needed to backtrack, find their way to where they started but how many dunes had they traversed? had they turned left or right? Kerian had no idea and he felt the first tendrils of panic creeping into his mind. What were they going to do? How would he ever get back to the El Defensor if…

  “It’s this way.” Octavian nudged Kerian’s shoulder as he rode past, pulling his mount to the left and gesturing that Kerian follow him. “We need to get moving. There appears to be a sizeable storm coming.”

  “A sizeable storm?” Kerian opened his mouth in shock, instantly regretting it as sand blasted inside. “A sizeable storm… What have we just been riding through then?”

  * * * * * *

  The sandstorm hit with all the fury of a banshee, the force of the gusts slamming into the riders, making them bow their heads as if in prayer. The whirling sand tore into any exposed flesh, stripping skin and drawing blood in seconds. Despite Octavian’s belief they were heading in the right direction, there had been no signs of any trail bells or marker posts for hours and the grim spectre of being lost started to encroach on Kerian’s jumbled thoughts again. They moved together through a narrow pass between two dunes that gave some limited shelter, allowing Octavian to bring the horses to a stop whilst Kerian caught his breath and the gypsy tried to get his bearings.

  Kerian took this opportunity to brush the sand from his clothes and adjust his headscarf. His toes ached inside his boots where the sand stubbornly kept managing to slip inside restricting space for movement and the opportunity to remedy this was too much to turn down. He tapped Octavian on the shoulder, signalling his wish to dismount before dropping from the saddle. The gypsy dismounted beside him and pulled a water skin from his saddlebag whilst he considered their next move.

  “I need to empty my boots!” Kerian exclaimed. “Just give me a moment.” Octavian nodded agreement but seemed preoccupied with the behaviour of his mount as it seemed to be shying away from him as he tried to secure his water skin.

  Kerian sat on the ground, ignoring the sand particles whipping about him and tugged at his boot, pulling it away and tipping out a miniature version of the dunes through which they travelled. Oh, it felt so good to be able to wiggle his toes again! He pulled off the other boot and emptied this one as well, only to watch his first boot get picked up by the wind and thrown a few feet away in the direction the horses had no intention of travelling.

  “Oh come on!” Kerian yelled, only to have his words snatched away by the wind. He pulled on his remaining boot and set off across the sand in pursuit of his absconding footwear. The weathered leather boot bounced across the floor before snagging on something that left it wiggling frantically in the wind. Kerian hopped up alongside it and moved to retrieve his boot only to find it was stuck fast to something metallic sticking out from the sand.

  He knelt, scooping the soft sand away revealing the tip of what appeared to be an ancient spear. The forged metal still retained its sharp edge, despite appearing incredibly old. This was strange. Something appeared to be buried under here.

  “Kerian we need to leave!” Octavian shouted. “Something is spooking the horses!” Kerian held his hand up, trying to prevent Octavian from moving away but his attention was focused on pulling at his boot to try and untangle it from a barb that curled out from the base of the spear head.

  “I’ll be just a moment. My boot is stuck on something!” He tugged hard, pulling this way and that before the spear head slid up out of the sand, still attached to the wooden shaft beneath it. A faded pennant appeared to be curled around the spear.

  “Hang on a second!” Kerian yelled over his shoulder. “I’ve nearly got it free…” The boot suddenly came away tearing itself from the spear as the whole length of the weapon came out of the sand and fell free at his feet. Kerian fell backwards, landing on his backside and laughing at the unexpected jolt. He looked over to Octavian who was still struggling to control the horses and appeared oblivious to Kerian’s undignified fall.

  Shrugging his shoulders, Kerian pulled his boot back on and moved to get back to his feet. The offending spear remained on the sand, the faded pennant flicking in the wind that whistled across it. Kerian looked down at the small flag and wondered if he should take the spear. He had been unarmed for too long now and despite not having shown any skill with a spear during his military training he thought it would be good to be able to keep things at arm’s length from now on.

  As he leaned over to grab the spear, the sand near where the weapon had been located started to move, making Kerian jump and snatch back his outstretched arm. He moved cautiously to one side flicking the spear with the tip of his boot and moving it away from the disruption. Picking up the ancient weapon, Kerian moved over to the disturbance in the sand and poked at the area with the tip of the pitted steel.

  The sand moved again, a scrabbling rapid motion under the surface that resulted in the level of the sand dropping and forming a small well. Kerian turned to ask Octavian if he knew what was going on but the storm seemed to have become worse in the few seconds he had been occupied and Octavian was fast being obscured by the airborne sand whipping about by the ever-present aggressive gusts of the wind.

  He poked the moving sand again and was startled as something rose up out of the ground. It grabbed the tip of the spear, giving it a hard tug towards it. Kerian nearly overbalanced but just managed to avoid taking a second tumble by leaning his weight upon the spear and finding himself close enough to make out the bleached bone-like appendages holding the weapon tight. They appeared to be fingers, although there was no sign of human skin, it having been stripped clean by the desert storms long before.

  “By Adden!” Kerian gasped, as the hand moved up the spear towards him, exposing a bony wrist and a yellowed radius and ulna that by rights should never have been able to move. Ragged pieces of uniform started to emerge from the sand, a leather bracer, rusted chain mail and an iron helmet slowly emerging from the ground. Kerian tried to move away, tried to free the spear but this just resulted in giving the creature the means to be able to pull itself from the soft sand.

  An exposed set of ivory ribs, a ragged tabard with a clavicle showing through and a second hand now appeared, this one encased in a glove, but by no means any less horrifying than the rest of the ghastly monster appearing u
nder Kerian’s horrified gaze. This was once a soldier, of this there was no doubt, yet he appeared to be long dead and beyond such jerky movements as Kerian was witnessing. The helmet tilted slowly upwards, sand pouring from the rim to form a macabre veil that slowly parted to reveal the grinning skull beneath. Kerian forgot himself in terror, his hand finally dropping the spear which the undead creature still retained in its bony grasp.

  “What are you?” he asked, not really convinced he wanted to know the answer.

  The skeletal warrior had now pulled its feet from the sand and crouched, legs apart, spear held with the tip down towards the sand, its grinning visage suggesting unspoken horrors yet to come. Then it opened its mouth and impossibly issued a scream that seemed to still the air around it. Kerian back pedalled as fast as he could, acutely aware of his defenceless nature, even as he struggled to free the shield from his back.

  The cadaver leapt forwards with a shriek, its spear darting out, glancing off the rim of the mirrored shield and sending vibrations up Kerian’s arm with the supernatural strength delivered behind the blow. The spear flashed in again, this time low, causing Kerian to jump to avoid injury but his landing was unsteady, more of a stumble and he overbalanced, falling into a tumble that he exaggerated to roll clear of the creature.

  It screamed again, sounding a ghostly clarion call to something Kerian had no intention of discovering, before lunging once more. Kerian dodged to the side allowing the spear to pass by on his left, then he spun on his heel, bringing the shield up under the monster’s chin with a mighty blow. The exposed skeletal trachea crunched as the shield slammed in hard, a mortal wound to one of the living but to this creature it just seemed to be a mild annoyance.

  Kerian slammed the warrior again, trying to take its head from its spine but its bony fingers were already painfully clutching at his flesh and attire. The skeleton gave a sudden jerk and its grip lessened as a water skin smashed into its skull, snapping its head over to an unnatural angle and showering both combatants with water. Kerian acted on the distraction and swung his shield in again, the mirrored edge shearing through the creature’s spine and sending its grinning skull spinning off into the swirling sands.

  The knight recognised his saviour holding the split water skin as the skeletal body toppled to the ground. Octavian was looking despondently at the bag and then he stared down at the creature lying on the sand at his feet.

  “That was water we are going to need.” He complained. “How have you ruined my day now? What exactly have you unearthed?”

  “I have absolutely no idea.” Kerian confessed nervously, brushing the sand from his face as he bent to lift the dropped spear from the ground. A piercing shriek froze him in his tracks and he turned back to where the creature had risen, noticing the agitated floor movement as several more spear points started to break through the surface. Octavian turned towards yet another scream, his eyes widened as he noticed two more of the skeletal creatures marching menacingly out of the swirling sandstorm, the desert sands cascading from their garb as they moved determinedly towards them.

  “Come on!” Octavian shouted, grabbing Kerian by the arm and dragging him away from the spear. “We need to get out of here.”

  “Where are we going to go?” Kerian shouted back. “We don’t know where we are.”

  “As long as it is away from here, I don’t really care!” Octavian shot back, pulling himself up into the saddle just as several more creatures clawed and crawled out of the sand towards them. Kerian grabbed hold of Toledo’s reins and swung himself up into the saddle noticing the decayed figure of a skeletal standard bearer marching towards him, a ragged pennant held aloft as he moved into battle.

  Toledo snorted, stamping down hard on the bony fingers of a warrior extricating itself from the sand at the stallion’s hooves, as Kerian dug in his heels and leant forward against Toledo’s neck, following the charging example of his guide, as more shrieks and screams rose around them. Pulling sharply on his stallion’s reins, Kerian turned the horse and charged towards the standard bearer, reaching out to snatch the faded pennant from the undead soldier’s grasp, tearing its arm from its shoulder in the process, before whipping the staff around and taking the monster’s head off with the solid blow.

  “I’ll take that!” he grunted, before digging his heels in hard and setting off after his guide. At least now he had something to keep these monsters at arm’s length! The horses galloped from the relative shelter of the two dunes, out across the open desert landscape, the searing sand slamming into them and reducing visibility to less than ten feet as the horses charged away from the spear wielding horrors running swiftly across the sand behind them.

  Kerian turned his head trying to make out the location of the skeletal troops and almost missed the sudden attack that came from the side. A large skeletal warrior wearing the same faded tabard and armed with a weathered scimitar stepped boldly into his path swinging its blade menacingly. Toledo jerked to the side, missing the swing by inches and almost unseating Kerian, throwing him to the left and directly into the path of the return swing. He dropped his head, pulling the shield up on reflex to deflect the blow with a resounding clang!

  Clashes of weapons sounded from somewhere on his right, with Dorian the donkey braying loudly in distress but Kerian could not see where his partner had gone, the sandstorm obscured his vision. Shrieks and cries from beyond the grave echoed around him. This was ridiculous! He needed a weapon, fast! Luckily, he already knew where to get one. Kerian yanked hard on the reins, forcing Toledo to come around sharply and charged back towards the skeletal figure that had nearly decapitated him, lowering the pennant like a lance. Toledo neighed in protest, then dropped his head and charged as his rider commanded.

  Kerian had seconds to take in the sight of this huge creature, wearing two sand coloured boots that flopped about its ankles, a warped scabbard and belt cinched around a faded tabard worn over rusted chainmail fallen long into disrepair. A conical helmet with a chainmail skirt hung down to protect its neck and a face guard that served only to emphasise the hole in the grinning skull where its nose should have been, before they crashed together with a sound like thunder. The lance knocked the creature back on its heels, permitting the knight to move in close and use his shield with deadly effect.

  The shield slammed into the creature’s head, snapping several of its teeth and knocking its helmet around as Toledo barrelled in, hitting the monster full on with its chest before launching swift kicks with its hooves that shattered the skeleton’s femur, dropping the warrior to the floor. The scimitar tumbled away across the sand and Kerian nudged the stallion towards it, swapping the makeshift lance to his shield arm, before swinging down from the saddle, to scoop the blade from the desert floor in a graceful move that would have put side circus riders to shame.

  Toledo wheeled again, nostrils flaring and headed back towards the bony warrior as it turned over and started to jerkily pull itself up onto its knees. The horse crashed down onto the supernatural warrior hard, shattering the monster’s spine rendering it unable to move. It fell back into the sand and was finally still.

  Kerian reined in Toledo, taking the opportunity to catch his breath and move his shield to his back, before clutching the standard and reins in one hand and the recovered blade in the other. Turning in the saddle, he struggled to identify where his guide had gone through the poor visibility of the storm. The shrieking came from all around now; the sandstorm obscuring the sun and any possible notion of identifying a landmark. Dark shapes were moaning and digging themselves out from the desert floor all around him. He had no idea where to go.

  A large shadow lumbered towards him, bursting from the cover of the storm, nearly making Kerian jump from his skin. He swung the scimitar hard catching the grinning armoured skeleton in the ribs with a lunge that would have killed a mortal foe, before kicking off its round shield with his boot, only to watch the monster step back, then leap forwards again, its expressionless face
all the more menacing for its exposed snapping teeth.

  Kerian spurred his mount forwards, recognising the futility of fighting this dangerous foe and Toledo responded in kind, leaving the undead warrior in his wake, as it crashed down onto the desert floor, its ultimate fate swallowed by the storm as it rushed in behind them, leaving just its unearthly shrieks chasing his departure.

  “Octavian!” Kerian screamed. “Octavian! Where are you?” He realised he might as well be miming the words over the tumultuous noises rising from the storm and the terrifying calls of the creatures around him. Kerian let Toledo go, praying they would not charge blindly into a ravine or the stallion catch its leg in a hole and fall. More shrieking skeletons charged out at them. Barbed arrows whistled past his head slamming into the desert sand. Horse and rider charged into a clearing where an emaciated archer was just putting an arrow to its bow. Kerian swung the scimitar hard, slicing the bow string and making the wooden bow jump in the creature’s hand, smacking it hard on the temple.

  Another skeletal figure charged in from the right, Kerian swung his makeshift lance as hard as he could, then followed through with a swing of the scimitar, only to watch in horror as the lance bounced off the monster’s helm and the ancient blade wedged into the skeletal creature’s shoulder joint before the weathered metal snapped at the punishment. The skeleton turned with slow menace and swung a club aimed right at Kerian’s head, just as another shadowy figure came out of the storm swinging a mace that shattered the creature’s arm and sent the monster spinning to the ground.

  “There will be plenty of time to play with your flag and build sand castles later!” Octavian snapped, dropping the mace as if it’s very touch offended him. “Follow me now. We don’t have much time!” Kerian looked on amazed as the gypsy turned his horse and donkey about and charged off into the swirling sands. He shrugged in resignation, tugging the reins, urging Toledo into hard pursuit as the grounded skeletal warrior threw its club at his head with another frustrating scream, the weapon thankfully flying wide of its mark.