by M J Webb
* * *
Nytig ran towards Te’oull as fast as his deformed body would allow. His heart began to beat thunderously in his chest and he was soon gasping violently for air, but he kept on running. He was convinced that he was about to die. He dashed frantically from cover to cover crossing the fields that approached the city, all the time looking up and behind him for any sign of pursuit from his evil master. He was astonished to find no evidence of a chase, and convinced that it would eventually come. “Koh no, koh no… What have you done? You stupid fool! He will kill you for sure. Why did you do it? What possessed you to be so brave? Yarrggh! Where were your brains? Since when have you been so bold? All your life you have been a coward, and you have been happy to be one, so why do you decide to grow some courage today, of all days?” he asked himself as he ran.
He just could not understand or believe the folly of his own action, one he believed had sealed his fate. When King Vantrax had dropped the Lichtus stone on the ground before him, Nytig had picked it up immediately without really knowing why. He was unwittingly responding to an impulse which had come to him from out of nowhere. It was an automatic reaction he had known nothing about until it was too late, and something he could not explain now. He had expected the King to see his action and immediately demand the stone’s return. However, King Vantrax was too exhausted and weary to notice. He was worried about his own sudden illness and his senses were badly affected. He had given no such order. In fact, the evil wizard had not even realised it was gone, until it was too late.
The impulse to run away with the stone had come straight from the heart. It shocked Nytig more than any other he had ever experienced. It was just so unlike him, so out of character, and so fantastically weird, that he of all people should act in such a manner. Even more of a surprise as he replayed the incident in his mind and dwelled on his foolish act, was the fact that he had actually listened to what his heart was telling him, ignoring the vociferous protestations of his mind. Now, as if controlled by some magical force, he headed straight towards the attacking forces and the city beyond, though he had absolutely no idea why!
He did not know what he was going to do when he reached the front. Years of suffering and hardship, of serial abuse at his master’s hands, came flooding back to him as he ran, ushered into his consciousness by a gentle, helping hand he knew nothing of. ‘The scars on my mind and body run too deep, they will never heal. The emergence of not one but three Keepers has to be a sign that the tables have turned? Never before has the power of three been seen on this world. The days of King Vantrax are surely numbered, and if I am ever to be rid of him, if I am ever to break free, the time to act is now!’
High above Nytig and the city of Te’oull, the army of dragons were suffering terribly in their long, drawn out fight with the creatures raised by King Vantrax. Their epic struggle against the graxoth and revalkas was still being waged furiously. Many dragons had been seriously injured or killed. Resus was leading the remaining few in a desperate attempt to turn the tide, but in a fleeting moment he looked down on the ground below, his eyes drawn away from the fight for a split second by a mysterious and unknown force.
With his superior eyesight, Resus immediately saw Nytig scurrying across the open fields, heading for the battle within the city walls. Despite the need to remain with his fellow dragons, Resus felt another irresistible urge to investigate, instinctively knowing that he had to temporarily detach himself from the fight and help the Keeper somehow, as only he could.
Seconds later, the powerful dragon swooped down out of the sky and grabbed the luckless servant in his long talons. His giant claws cut deeply into Nytig’s shoulders. Nytig cried out in pain as the dragon’s powerful wings beat rapidly and he was lifted up into the air. Resus flew low over the city and the fighting until he spotted Jake and Ben. To his surprise, they were a little behind the action and standing in an open doorway. He flew lower still and circled around, before dropping the unfortunate, pain-wracked servant upon them, like food from an eagle for her hungry chicks.
Nytig landed awkwardly and with a loud cry. He rolled over several times before coming to a halt less than a yard from Jake’s feet. His arms were outstretched to break his fall and in one of his hands he had the Lichtus stone which held the key to restoring the box, held firmly within his grasp.
Chapter 21
3rd September - City of Te’oull - Siatol
The razor sharp tip of Princess Zephany’s blade pushed firmly against Melissa’s neck, breaking the skin and drawing blood. The young royal and Estian leader was just about to ram it home, ending the Sebantan warrior’s life. It was no more than Melissa deserved. She had taken the lives of many Estians in her relatively short life, in the service of her evil master. Princess Zephany was all too aware of that fact and at first she was too blinded by fury and a thirst for revenge to show any mercy. For her part, Melissa refused outright to beg or plead for her life. She kept her hand clasped tightly over the wound to her arm and looked up defiantly at her triumphant enemy, staring Princess Zephany directly in the eye with hostility, almost daring her to do it. The noise of battle was a distant distraction now for both warriors, cocooned as they were in their own little moment in time. But, in reality, the fight was only a matter of metres away from them both and they were still firmly in harm’s way. Zephany pushed a little harder with her weapon. Blood began to ooze out of Melissa’s neck and trickled down her skin from beneath the blade.
However, despite her incredible thirst for vengeance, for some reason she could neither understand nor believe, Princess Zephany hesitated. She looked around her at those who were fighting bravely for her cause. Several of her warriors had withdrawn temporarily from the fighting for a brief rest, including Lord Caro. They were now watching their leader to see what she would do. Zephany was astonished to find that her hands were trembling a little. It was not fear making them shake, she knew that. It was rage. She was angry at herself for being so weak, for not doing what she was there to do, for hesitating at the very moment when she needed to be strong. More than anything, she was annoyed at herself for listening to the unknown voice that had entered her head at the vital moment, the pang of conscience that had convinced her somehow to ignore her training and warrior’s instincts.
“Go on, finish me!” rasped Melissa. “It is what you want, is it not? I can see it in your eyes. You know I would act if the situation were reversed. So, why do you linger?”
Zephany’s eyes turned once again to Melissa. They were now burning fiercely with hatred. She wanted to take her life so badly it hurt. She wanted to gain retribution for all those rebels the Sebantan had killed over the years, or taken into slavery, the civilians she had rounded up for King Vantrax’ mines who were never seen again. But, she could not do it. She had been prevented from acting and the moment had passed. In any case, to kill her now in cold blood when she was captured and defenceless was not Princess Zephany’s way. Knesh Corian and her father, the King of Rhuaddan, had raised her better than that. She had been brought up as a future Queen to be wise, just and honourable… And this just did not feel right.
‘How will it look to my people, if by some miracle we survive this fight?’ she asked herself. ‘…Will it be seen as an act of courage if I kill her, of strength? Or will it always be remembered as the deed of a coward, as a dishonourable execution, which will return to haunt me in years to come?’
As she pondered the decision for the briefest of moments, she withdrew her blade slightly and Melissa felt the cold steel move. “No, you cannot. It is not in you, is it? You do not have what it takes.”
Zephany immediately tensed her arm in retaliation, as if to run her blade through the young warrior, and Melissa braced herself. But, she pulled her sword away at the last moment. “You are right. I am not like you. I am more, much more than you will ever be!”
She turned immediately to Lord Caro. “Hand me your belt.”
Caro took it off and threw away the scabbard to his swo
rd which was attached. “Here, Princess, take it. Somehow, I do not believe my sword will be sheathed again, so I should have no further use for it.”
He handed the belt over and Zephany bound Melissa’s hands behind her back. Melissa hissed and cursed as the pain in her arm intensified. When Zephany had finished, the Sebantan raged at her with real venom in her voice. “Raar! That was a mistake! It was the decision of a weak leader, and you will regret it, I swear!”
Zephany turned her around and looked her straight in the eye. “Perhaps. Only time will tell if you are right and I am wrong, and we appear to have very little of that. So, we should know very soon. However, mistake or not, it was my decision to make!”
She handed Melissa over to one of her warriors and ordered him to guard her with his life. Then she led Caro and the rest of her followers back into the fight.
* * *
Sawdon and his huge contingent of mercenaries were continuing to fight their way relentlessly into the heart of the city. The Estian Alliance soldiers fought bravely to hold them back, but the powerful Thargw and his legions were far too skilled and experienced for them. They were relentless, ferocious, and they began making headway against the exhausted defenders of the city, capturing ground rapidly until the attack wheeled round on both flanks, encircling the Estians and pushing them back towards the main square, which had now become the centre of their desperate position.
Opposite Sawdon, Queen Bressial was in command. There was absolutely nothing that she or anyone else could do to halt the retreat. The simple fact was that there were just too many of the enemy to fight. All she could do now was organise the defences as best she could, to try somehow to delay the enemy’s progress. Roadblocks were hastily erected in the narrow city streets, warriors climbed on top of roofs waiting to ambush the attackers from above, trying to take them down with the few spears, axes and throwing knives they had left. In desperation, they hurled anything they could find and it became a frantic defence bordering on panic. The Thargws in particular were relishing the hand to hand fighting that had developed, and none more so than Sawdon. His huge, muscular frame was clearly identifiable in the chaos of battle. Warrior after warrior from the Alliance tried in vain to kill him upon sight. Some of them even managed to conduct co-ordinated attacks involving three or four of their comrades, but Sawdon’s superior senses, ability, experience and reflexes allowed him to evade their weapons and kill them all. He was like a machine, and he just kept on coming, driving his Thargws forward. It seemed as though no one and nothing could stop him.
Before long, Bressial’s units met up with those commanded by Brraall. The great tribal warrior informed the Queen that Jake and the others were not far behind him. Handing over command to the tribal leader, Bressial quickly detached herself from the fight to report their dire situation to the Keeper.
* * *
Nytig lay on the floor at Jake’s feet. His outstretched hand held the Lichtus tightly within its grasp. Jake looked down upon it with wonder and amazement, absolutely dumbfounded at this unexpected and unbelievable stroke of good fortune. He could not imagine how or why the stone he had searched for and needed so badly was here. It had fallen at his feet like a gift from the Gods. ‘I have travelled across worlds to fetch help, so that together we might be able to take it? I’ve almost been killed trying to bring my family back here in order to take on the wizard? Why? Why did I have to do that, if it was going to be this easy?’ he asked himself.
He placed his foot firmly on Nytig’s wrist, pushing down so hard that the prostrate servant squealed in pain. His fingers opened up, allowing the stone to fall gently on the ground. Jake then bent down and picked it up.
“Is that…?! It is!” said Ben, as he stepped forward, equally amazed and shocked as his friend. Everyone there heard his startled response and they all gathered around Jake, including Harry and Jean.
“Kuh! I do not believe it. We have been searching all this time for the stones, braved untold dangers and given everything we have to find them, only for the last, the one we all thought would be impossible to take, to be handed to us without a fight? Something is not right here. There is some power working for us that I do not understand, some wonderful, magical force that is helping you to achieve the impossible, Jake. I have said it before, and I know that I am right,” stated Verastus, smiling broadly at his young friend.
The Falorian giant suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, ain’t it great? We’ll take that helping hand any day, won’t we? Look, we can ask all the questions we want later. We’ve more important things to do right now, like deciding on what we’re gonna do with him!” said Ben, pointing down at the pathetic figure of Nytig, who was still lying on the ground at their feet.
“I say we kill him!” replied Verastus, immediately and without hesitation or feeling. “…He serves the wizard. He took the stones from us the last time we caught him, and he almost caused Ben’s death. Besides, I think it highly likely that we are all about to die anyway, what is one more life added to all those who will perish here? If the dragon captured him, and gave him to us, that is one blessing I shall take with me to the afterlife. Any friend of King Vantrax is an enemy of mine and I will shed no tears for them as my sword enters their flesh. Listen to me… You all need to face facts; we are losing this fight. We can afford no warriors to guard any prisoners we take. We will need every one we have just to stay alive.”
As soon as he had finished speaking, he took out his sword and drew it back, ready to strike the servant down.
“No!”
The Falorian halted his sword arm just in time, when the tip of the blade was less than an inch from Nytig’s back. A loud scream had stopped him before anyone else could object. It was a high pitch shriek, a woman’s frantic cry. It made them all jump because it came from such an unexpected source. Jean had all of a sudden felt compelled to intervene. She broke away from Harry’s arms and rushed to Nytig, throwing herself down on the ground and covering him with her body, shielding him from further attack.
“Mum! What the heck are you doing?!” shouted Graham, completely bewildered and concerned for her welfare. Jean raised her head slightly to respond, as Verastus withdrew his sword to hear her words. But, Jake beat her to it.
“Grandma,” he began, for the very first time calling her by the name he had always wanted to say to her, as he’d so often imagined in his dreams, “what is it to you whether he lives or dies? Why do you care? I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound heartless, but Verastus has a point. We cannot guard him and we cannot let him go.”
“What is it to me, Jake? I will tell you… He is everything to me! He is the one who saved me, the one who freed me and gave me back my life. Without him, I would not have survived, I know it. At the very least, I would have spent my whole life in chains. I would have been kept holed up in the dungeons of Heron Getracht, allowed out in the day to wash, cook and clean, and locked in the filth and squalor of the cells by night. I could hardly bear it any longer. I was dying a little each day and praying for the end, for release, one way or the other.”
Looking on, Harry West was moved to tears by his wife’s actions and words. He stepped forward immediately, determined to be heard. “Jake, if all that is true, we owe this man a great deal. It is a debt of gratitude that we can repay here and now? He cannot hurt us. He is only one amongst thousands of enemies here. We are not cold-bloodied killers, Jake. We are Keepers, sworn to defend and protect?”
Jake turned his head to Verastus. “Put away your blade, my loyal friend. There will be no execution here. Nytig, stand up and look me in the eye.” The wounded and terrified servant slowly rose to his feet. Blood was running down his chest and back as a result of the wounds he received from the dragon’s claws. “Be very brief, but explain to me why and how I now hold the wizard’s stone.”
Nytig seized upon the opportunity to try and describe his actions, grateful to still be alive. He spoke as fast as he could. “I… I am not a bad man, though I kno
w I have served a master of evil who has done terrible things to these people, to my people. I did a good deed once, long, long ago. And I have paid for it ever since. That single act changed my entire life. The suffering that followed robbed me of my courage and my conscience, of all my virtues. They were stolen away from me in a foolish moment, and beat out of me if they ever dared to try and return. Fear… Fear overtook them all. I have been afraid ever since, scared to take a stand. But, seeing you today, witnessing all three Keepers defying his power, his magic…? I felt something different inside of me. I realised all of a sudden that I had found something worth fighting for, something to believe in. I do not know why, but I knew that it was something I did believe in once, before I lost sight of what it meant.”
“What? What was it?” asked Ben, surprised to find himself taking pity on the wretched figure before him.
