by M J Webb
“Jake! Nice of you to finally join us,” began Zephany with a smile. “We were about to send out a search party to look for you. Caro and I have done our best for our people. The defences here are good and strong. The walls are thick and high, so it is good ground to withstand an attack. We have a chance I think of holding out for a time. It must be said though, I am not certain for how long. I am sorry to sound so unsure, but this is no Dassilliak.
Srr… I was surprised to find when we arrived in the square, that there were many new volunteers waiting for us? It would seem that the Heynai were busy whilst we were fighting, Jake. By all accounts, they were spreading the word far and wide for us, recruiting others to our cause. Many blessed souls have answered the call. They have swelled our ranks and they have apparently been informed by the messengers of the spirits, that this is the final struggle in our fight against tyranny. They have been told that the endless war we have waged will be won, or lost, right here. And they have come in their thousands.”
Princess Zephany pointed towards the exterior walls where the ramparts were lined thick with veterans, standing amongst thousands of fresh volunteers.
“Raar… Yes, Jake,” added Lord Caro, placing his hand firmly and proudly on the pommel of his sword. “We have despatched most of them to the northern walls, as you can see. They are fresh and eager, whereas our warriors are tired and in need of rest. I have though, ensured that many of my finest captains stand with them, to guide and support those who need it. Ay raas, but it is a miracle, Keeper. Somehow, from the smouldering ashes of Dassilliak, we have risen again. Do not heed the reaction of moments ago when the gates closed. We have removed doubt. Once they accept what is going to happen, accept that in all likelihood they are going to die, they will recover their fighting spirit quickly. We are an army to be fearful of, I assure you. The flowers have already been distributed along the lines. Our warriors are boiling them down into the liquid poison as we speak.”
“Kah! Yes, I have been thinking about that!” shouted Tien, pushing his way to the centre of the group so that he could address Jake. “They must be running out by now? There were not too many of them and the battle at the city consumed most. I believe that I may be able to be of assistance. A simple reproduction spell should do the trick. Where there were few, there shall be many. Yes, I will go now! Leave it to me,” the wizard called, as he raced away, acting like a small child who had just been handed a toy. He was grinning, pleased beyond measure to once again be doing something useful.
Jake laughed a little at the sight of the old man running for the walls with such exuberance. It struck the youngster as funny how their roles were almost reversed somehow. He no longer felt like a child all of a sudden. He felt as if he had lived for several lifetimes. There had been moments though, since his adventures had begun, fleeting moments when it was all he could do to stop himself from crying, or laughing uncontrollably in the most inappropriate of circumstances, like the teenager he was. He had flitted from one state of mind to another, never knowing which of his personalities would surface next and unable to control his fluctuating emotions. Now was not the time to dwell on such things however, and he soon turned his attention back to the problems at hand.
“Good, Caro, good. Thank you. There is more I have to say. I’m afraid that I have some more bad news to tell you both.”
“What? More? Jake, do you not think that we have had enough ill tidings by now?” asked the Princess. Jake remained silent, unsure how to take the remark and not certain how he should reply. “…Yargh! Well? What is it? Tell us.”
“Okay. I’m sorry, but we’re soon gonna be on our…”
“Raise the alarm! Here they come!!!”
Jake was suddenly interrupted by a terrified, high pitched scream. It was coming from the highest point on the northern wall. He turned immediately and looked up to see a young lookout shouting in a blind panic, pointing frenetically at the northern sky. All the surrounding soldiers halted what they were doing immediately and rushed to the square, awaiting further information and orders. Their number included Queen Bressial and Lord Castrad, the Nadjan nobles were still carrying the wounds they had received at Dassilliak.
“Calm yourself please, soldier! Tell me what you see!” ordered Zephany.
“Dots, your highness! Tiny specs in the sky. Hundreds of them! Something is coming, some creatures. They are heading straight for us!”
Fear and hysteria gripped many of the civilians in the square instantly. Some began to cry and shout and many began to run, even though they did not know where they were going. Of far greater concern to Princess Zephany though, was the reaction to this news of her warriors on the walls. Many of the new volunteers simply left their posts and began running to find whatever cover they could.
The intrepid warrior Princess tried her best to stop them, bawling her orders to halt as loud as she was able. But, her voice was not strong enough to be heard over the mayhem. To her utter dismay and aggravation, she was powerless to prevent the desertion continuing, and spreading to the rest of her army.
“Hold your ground!!! Hold fast I say!!!”
A colossal, gargantuan roar of authority suddenly resounded throughout the city. It was so incredibly loud that the walls and buildings almost seem to shake. It was a voice stronger, louder and deeper than even that of the mighty Thargw, Sawdon. The sound was like a cannon exploding, and the unbelievable din had almost the same effect. Everyone stopped in their tracks, before turning their heads immediately, in unison, to determine the source of the astounding roar.
To the complete amazement of everyone there, it was not Lord Caro or Lord Castrad who had yelled so efficiently to end the panic, or any other seasoned warrior, as they might have expected. No, the command had come from the young fifteen year old boy from another world, the Keeper. With impeccable timing, in their hour of need, Jake West had by some means reached deep into their souls, abruptly wrenching their thoughts and attention away from the path of certain destruction they had embarked upon. In the fullness of time, it would be this moment more than any other that would prove to be his finest hour. Seven little words. They took only a second or two to say. But, on such things battles can be won or lost, wars can be decided, and heroes are made.
Jake flicked his eyes very quickly towards the astounded Princess Zephany. Then, he immediately addressed the shocked crowd, many of whom were frozen on the spot. “You cannot run. You must return to the walls or we are done for! This is the work of the wizard, of King Vantrax. He has summoned these things to do his bidding, his fighting… And we must defeat them! There is no other way. I promise you, if you run now, they will kill you! We will be defeated and you will not be able to hide. Our women and children, our old and sick, have no chance unless we stand and fight, unless we protect them.”
Though fearful, the warriors all made their way quickly back to the walls, realising that time was short.
“Good. Thank you all. Now, this is it!” cried Jake. “Your fathers and forefathers have warned you that this day would come. You have one enemy left to defeat. One last servant of evil to vanquish. Please, do not be found wanting now. You have already proven at Dassilliak that you have the hearts of lions inside you… Err, sorry, I keep forgetting where I am, I mean the hearts of dragons.”
A ripple of gentle, nervous laughter floated on the breeze. Jake saw immediately he had convinced the defenders that there really was no other option open to them but to fight, and he relaxed a little. “Look, we knew that King Vantrax would come, didn’t we? Though we survived the fight at Dassilliak, Sawdon was never going to let it end there, and give up the chase. This is the first round in this final battle. We cannot run for we have nowhere to go. The fight is here. We cannot shy away from it!”
“Jake is right!” added Princess Zephany. “I for one will stand firmly alongside him, until the bitter end. I shall not run from such evil and neither shall my people. Who fights with me?”
A short roar of defiance and prid
e erupted all across the city. When it had died down Jake spoke quickly, conscious of the fact that time was running out. “Right, you all have to trust me now. I don’t know for certain what is going to happen here, nobody does. But, I do know that we are going to survive this day! We will win this war. We just have to defeat these… Err, what are they?”
Jake pointed to the advancing hoards of flying monsters. They were approaching fast now; he could just make out their features as they appeared over the wall, though they were still a little distance away. There were many graxoth among them. The young Keeper had narrowly managed to survive his last encounter with the deadly beasts raised from the fires of Zsorcraum. His heart skipped a beat and a surge of adrenalin swept through his body when he saw them again. Then, he turned his attention towards the rest of the aerial armada. The other creatures he saw were something else altogether, larger, far more terrifying and sinister in appearance.
“Raart! I… I cannot believe my eyes. They are… Revalkas!” cried a horrified Queen Bressial. “But, they were destroyed, defeated?!”
“Revalkas??!!” rasped Lord Castrad, alarmed like everyone there by the very mention of their name. “How can that possibly be?”
“Srr… Begging your pardon, but I suggest to you all that it matters not now?” snapped Lord Caro. “It is that wizard. They are here and they have to be defeated all over again. Quickly, find whatever cover you can and keep your heads down!”
The rest of the crowd dispersed, running in every direction as their leaders sprinted over to the northern wall. As they ran, Jake asked Zephany about the revalkas, hoping to learn as much as he could about his new enemy before he had to engage them in battle.
“What are they? Where do they come from?”
“Trust me Jake, for the present at least, you do not want to know.”
Jake then looked at Tien, who had returned to the group as soon as the enemy was sighted and was now running alongside the Keeper. The old wizard decided quickly that he had time for a very brief explanation and he tried to think of anything that might help.
“Jake, this unexpected turn of events can mean only one thing; King Vantrax’ powers have increased beyond our wildest imaginings. He has found a way to unlock time, to bring forth into our world the creatures who once brought it to its knees, to the very brink of annihilation. Revalkas, sraine, graxoth, the Lords of Srenul… These beasts come straight from Zsorcraum, from the darkest corners of every Estian’s nightmares. Our worst fears have come true. We will be forced to confront our own demons if we are to win this war. These monsters once defeated everything we could throw against them. It is not good to be reminded just how close we came to extinction. Graxoth and sraine you have met before, but revalkas? There is little hope against them, Jake. No Keeper has faced such adversaries. Even the dragons fell before them!”
“Tien!” snapped Jake. “They are almost here. I will not accept that they can’t be defeated. You did it before, all of you. There has to be a way!”
“I am with you, Jake. I will not stand here and do nothing!” stated a determined Princess Zephany. They had reached the wall by now and stood on the ramparts, looking out across the plain and up at the sky, at their enemy. “Archers! Coat your arrows with the herethdar liquid. Fire when they are within range! Make every shot count, and let us pray that its potency is no myth.”
The first of the revalkas halted a little way from the city, remaining just out of range of the Estian arrows. The rest of the formidable force stopped at the same time. The creature surveyed the scene before it, deciding upon the best form of attack, allowing the defenders a good look at their newest adversary.
Revalkas were similar in appearance to a very large dragon, only they possessed two enormous heads instead of one, both of which were dominated by an enormous, tooth-filled mouth. A vicious looking spike or horn protruded from each of their heads. Their strong, powerful arms were adorned with razor sharp prongs which could rip to shreds anything or anyone they touched. The claws on their hands and feet were huge, and a long, thin, barbed tail whipped viciously behind them in flight, covered again in sharp spikes which carried a deadly venom.
Suddenly, the lead revalkas screamed out loudly. The remaining creatures obeyed the command and manoeuvred around until they were all positioned in one extended line, which stretched across the sky for some distance. Then, one further cry from the beast, an instruction or a scream of intent, launched the attack. Slowly, they moved forward, before the whole line suddenly burst into life and most of the horrifying attackers began soaring down towards the terrified defenders of the city.
The Battle of Te’oull had begun.
* * *
Ben, Verastus and the tribespeople of Readal forest had at last reached Varriann. Though the inhabitants of the medium sized city were at first fearful of the ‘savages’ fleeing from the Battle of Dassilliak, they had by now heard of their deeds and were expecting them, news having spread quickly among the population by way of the Heynai and their chosen messengers. Eventually, the citizens left their homes and gave the weary refugees a cautious welcome. This allowed the survivors time to rest and recuperate, to recover their strength for the ordeals they knew still lay ahead.
Ben was not feeling the effects of sleep deprivation as much as most. Unbelievably, the teenage boy had somehow managed to fall fast asleep several times on their journey, even though he had been holding on tightly to the giant frame of Verastus and leaning up against the mighty Falorian as he guided their horse. Once he had dismounted and stretched his aching muscles, his brain automatically reverted to ‘Ben mode’, as usual focussing on the subject which was always uppermost in his thoughts.
“Okay then, when do we eat? I could murder a sausage sarny.”
Verastus had absolutely no idea what the youngster was talking about. He presumed correctly however that a ‘sausage sarny’ was a hometown delicacy on Ben’s world. “Ha ha… Do not trouble yourself, Ben. I will go and find us something to eat if I can. Maybe these people will spare us some food? You remain here and watch the horse.”
Ben took hold of the reigns rather gingerly. He was still not used to horses, having never even been near one before entering Rhuaddan. He wasn’t comfortable around them and they in turn generally picked up on his fear, and acted accordingly. “Whooaa… Err, it’s alright boy, I won’t hurt ya. I don’t bite,” Ben said, trying to remain calm and reassure the animal as the horse shifted nervously once Verastus was gone.
The stallion calmed a little and Ben relaxed. He was now able to take stock of his new surroundings. Varriann was on a much smaller scale than Dassilliak or Ilin-Seatt, or many of the other places Ben had seen or heard about in the past week or so. It was no more than a very large village really. The buildings were just shacks, small hovels which looked as though they were strung together with any old pieces of wood that could be found, bound by an assortment of strings, vines, nails and pegs. Most of the tiny dwellings and barns looked as though they might fall down at any moment, or collapse altogether in a strong wind. The streets and roads were of differing widths and dimensions. It was clear to any onlooker, including Ben, that this place had just evolved naturally, without any form of planning or intent.
Brraall was seeing to his people, walking among them and listening to their woes. There were numerous wounded from the battle at Dassilliak and the tribal healers were busy applying poultices of leaves and mud. Ben thought it looked like a scene from a film, a medieval re-enactment, or a depiction in a book or magazine that would have fascinated him if he was back home in Lichfield. He realised right there and then that he was lost in his own private adventure, living an impossible dream from which he could not wake up. This whole experience was a nightmare fraught with danger and uncertainty, one in which the risks and stakes were immense, and all too real. He knew that he and Jake could easily be killed at any time in this war they had waged. This was no childish game. They were fighting alongside real warriors, real soldiers, against re
al enemies!
Ben had had these thoughts before of course, but something was different now. The extraordinarily funny thing was, to Ben at least, that he no longer wanted to wake up. He was missing home, but at this moment in time he didn’t want the adventure to end. ‘How can I go back to my old life after all of this, back to school?’ he asked himself, even though he knew he would jump at the chance if it was on offer. He was full of confusion, and yet his mind was somehow clear? As clear as it had ever been. It didn’t make sense but he had no doubts at all. Tomorrow was another day, but right now this is where he wanted to be. And the sudden realisation shocked the life out of him. ‘Oh heck! Well… It’s alright for Jake. Back home he has a loving family, a decent life, something worth going home to, worth fighting for. He’s gonna be a success at everything he does, I know it. That’s fine though, I’m happy for him, I really am. He’s my best mate and I’ll always want him to do well. But me? I wasn’t born for greatness like him. I’m Joe Average. I usually get lost in the crowd. But now, for the very first time in my life, I actually matter to someone. I’m making a difference. Me! People are trusting me, relying on me. And what’s more I like that fact. I can actually see respect in people’s eyes when they talk to me.’
