In the infrared spectrum to their right, Neth’tek could see the mountainous sides of the Swildagg reaches, on which the tower rose.
There came a sudden flash of light as magic illuminated in the air above them. Vak pulled his mount to the left, dodging the rain of fire that past by on their right, nearly burning the wings off their drake. Looking upwards, Neth’tek saw two of the final three attackers.
Where was the third? He asked himself, but was interrupted by another flash of fire, this time on their left.
“Up!” cried Vak in command to his drake.
The drake shifted its wings as it sped foreword, and it caught the air just right to bring it upwards in a loop to come between both enemy drakes. Vak stretched out both arms, scimitars in hand, and sliced at the leathery wings of the enemy mounts.
One strike cut deep into the tender flesh of their wings, and a second shred off a large piece. The mounts of the Swildagg’s shrieked in pain, and the one Swildagg mage lifted his palms to enact his spell upon Vak only a moment too late. Vak’s mount dived back down, but the spell blasted his comrade and mount in an outburst of fire that caused them to fall straight downward into darkness.
The lone rider struggled to get control of his injured mount, the tear in its wing throwing its balance off exceptionally. The rider struggled with himself also, to keep his own balance and remember the spell for heeling at the same time.
His words came out in gasps and shouts as he connected the magical words together to form the correct spell, and he nearly fell from his saddle as the drake swerved to dodge what looked to be a stalactite as it flashed by.
The drake struggled again in its pain, and the mage grabbed hold of his saddle to keep from falling as he cursed the stalactite that nearly caused his death. Then, glancing ahead for just a brief second, the mage caught sight of the solid caverns end right before he and his mount slammed into it.
*****
Their mount was suddenly hit by a powerful force, throwing the drake off to one side as another passed by. Looking to the final mount, Vak saw the gleeful face of Hestage Swildagg, and cursed the name.
Vak’s drake was only off balance for a brief moment, but soon another attack would come even harder. Vak sheathed his scimitars, needing his hands for the quick navigating they required against this warrior.
As Vak took the reins again, his drake came uncomfortably close to the mountain side of Swildagg. He veered away from there, and angled his mount to get above Hestage. However, Hestage also went to go above Vak.
Soon the two of them raced to get above one another.
“Running again, Vaknorbond?” the voice of Hestage cried in mockery, “I’ll say you’re one to do so!”
Vak did not reply. His face was solid and showed no emotion whatsoever. And as Neth’tek gripped his cloak, he could feel the anger burning like wild fire within the warrior leading him, but Vak kept control, and focused only on what was necessary for the moment.
Hestage suddenly changed direction and flew straight for Vak. Vak’s mount pivoted to the left, but received a slash across the tail by the thin blade of the Swildagg lord.
Vak cursed as he heard his mount howl in pain. He turned the drake round and began to retreat away from Hestage and go for the mountainside of Swildagg, but Hestage’s mount was much quicker than his and was soon on his tail; rounding to one side to deliver a blow.
Vak saw him coming and sped foreword, urging his mount onward with words of encouragement. But Hestage was coming too close for Vak to feel any of the comfort he was giving.
Neth’tek’s grip tightened on his father’s cloak as he saw the lord of Swildagg approaching. He wanted to leap away and fall to his death rather than face this stranger. But he knew that that would be foolish, and that his father was capable of defeating this warrior as he had done the others.
Only, this warrior seemed different than the others.
Hestage saw Neth’tek, and his face lit up with pleasure at finding the young warrior, and he slowly reached out toward Neth’tek as he came nearer.
Vak saw the outstretched hand of Hestage, and drew his scimitar to fend him off. He roared also, an attempt to draw his attention away from Neth’tek.
Hestage pulled away and smiled at the anger in Vak’s voice. “Come on, Vaknorbond Vulzdagg! Come on and fight me! Take me on like the warrior you are! Show this child – show your son who you really are! Fight me like the warrior you are!”
Vak turned his drake to fly in wide circles, avoiding any unseen walls that might be near. He kept his eyes on Hestage as he went round him, and released the reigns from his grasp once again.
Gripping the sides of his mount with his knees, Neth’tek watched as Vak unsheathed his scimitars to face the lord of Swildagg.
Vak leaned down and whispered commands into the ear of his drake – words that Neth’tek still couldn’t hear. And then straightening again, Vak raised his voice to shout, “Be careful for what you wish for, lord of Swildagg!” The circles his drake made brought him higher and higher above Hestage, who made no move to gain advantage over Vak.
Hestage laughed openly from below. “Did I not say that I would ever be your friend and ally?”
“You did!” Vak answered.
“Then do I not have your trust?”
Vak was silent, and held his answer behind gritted teeth. He growled angrily as if he were an animal, and raised his scimitars over his head as he cried in a loud voice, “Here is my trust!”
Without any warning Vak leapt from the saddle and out of the grasp of Neth’tek, to fall straight downward toward the circling form of Hestage below. The drake went foreword to fulfill its master’s orders, going swiftly away from the falling form of Vaknorbond that was slowly vanishing into the darkness and Hestage.
Neth’tek watched withheld breath as Vak fell, and did not even react to the sudden movement of the drake as it flew away from it all.
How many of Neth’tek’s family members were to die this day?
The answer came when the drake suddenly changed direction.
Without a warning the winged monster dived downward and began to fly toward the three forms of heat in the cold darkness that surrounded them.
*****
Vak pointed his body so that he could fall with more speed, and become a smaller target for any magical attacks Hestage might attempt. He took in a deep breath as he closed his eyes, listening to the sound of the air screaming past his ears, trying to separate the flapping wings of Hestage’s mount so that he might better angle himself toward him.
Vaknorbond straightened himself to the right as he heard the familiar mocking laugh of the Swildagg lord, and his knuckles turned white as his grip over his scimitars tightened in wrath.
It is time… It is time… It is now the time! Vak repeated as he fell on threw the darkness with eyes shut, his grip ever hardening.
His cloak whipped violently behind him as he suddenly jerked his arms out wide and opened his eyes, revealing the red pupils to the infrared spectrum before him.
There was Hestage, floating in one place atop his mount, waiting with open arms for him with a broad smile on his face.
The Tree of the Urden’Dagg had indeed gone mad in the shedding of one another’s blood! Someone had to end it.
Vak angled himself at the last moment before impact, so that his feet led the way into the breastplate of Hestage Swildagg. Vak’s feet struck hard against the steel plate, knocking the wind from the Swildagg, and throwing him from his saddle to fall through the air as he struggled for breath.
Vak followed, twisting himself so that he could get a smooth swing at Hestage with his scimitar. Hestage caught Vak’s wrist in a firm hold before he was able to make the cutting stroke, and brought a knee into Vak’s chest. He grabbed Vaknorbond by his other wrist as it also came in from the side for its own strike, and the two looked eye to eye as they continued to fall. None made any move, only gasping for breath as their air was lost and were unable to steady it at
the speed they were falling.
Hestage twisted both the wrists of Vak in a way that he dropped his scimitars in the empty air, and the weapons fell separate from them. Vak head-butted Hestage on the nose, drawing blood from the Swildagg and bruising his own forehead, and then loosening his right arm from Hestage’s grasp he wrapped his hand over the lords face, pushing his fingers into his eyes.
Hestage roared in raging pain as he grabbed hold of Vak’s wrist that grasped his face, pulling to wrench him from him. They struggled as Hestage released his other hand and began throwing wild punches into Vak.
Vak kicked at his chest.
Hestage hit Vak square in the nose.
Vak wrapped both hands round Hestage’s throat.
Hestage grabbed Vak by the face like what had been done to him, and kneed Vak in the groin.
Vak’s grasp loosened, allowing Hestage the moment he needed to flip round Vak’s head and grab him from behind, wrapping his arms round his throat and squeezing his bloodied nose against the back of Vak’s head.
Vak struggled uncontrollably, his face turning a dark purple in the darkness. He reached for the knife in his boot but found it missing, and so cursed the Swildagg he had thrown it into.
His vision blurred and the darkness became darker as he gave up the fight and accepted his death.
*****
The spinning figures were hard to depict from the darkness surrounding them as the Swildagg drake dove in search of its rider. It was so deep in its search that it didn’t notice the Vulzdagg drake come in from above and behind, until it drove its sharp talons into the Swildagg’s back.
The Swildagg drake pulled away immediately, its back bleeding from its wounds. It twisted to claw with its own sharp weapons at its attacker, thrusting and jabbing at the drakes face and wings as it came upon it.
Neth’tek held fast, watching the drake below him and his mount as they tore at one another. The Swildagg drake saw the frightened face of Neth’tek, and decided on a more effective attack against its opponent’s rider.
The creature pulled back with a heavy flap of its leathery wings to come in from the side for Neth’tek on the saddle, and Neth’tek watched it move swiftly away, distancing itself while watching him intently. His hand went for the hilt of one of his scimitars, and he was just drawing it out when the drake made its charge.
Neth’tek’s scimitar came up as his own drake pulled away to bring itself and its rider away from the charging monster, but the beast of Swildagg was faster and came upon Neth’tek with outstretched talons, tearing at his flapping cloak behind him. Its neck stretched out, bringing its jaws full of sharp teeth toward Neth’tek’s throat.
The young fighter felt its hot breath on the back of his neck, and knew that he had to act then or never at all.
Turning in his saddle, Neth’tek chose then, and drove his blade blindly upwards in the direction of the drake. He felt it strike something solid, and his warrior instinct drove him to drive it harder into the hide of the beast, tearing straight through its throat with a clean thrust.
The drake choked and roared in pain. It pulled away, dripping blood from its mortal wound, and slammed blindly into a stalagmite that barley passed Neth’tek’s head.
The drake of Swildagg was down, falling with the shattered rock formation into the dark abyss below. But the drake of Vulzdagg turned sharply to miss the impact of a rock wall, and dove down to save Vaknorbond – its trusted master.
And so it was in the moment of last despair that Vak’s drake returned, as was its last order from him. Neth’tek held fast to its neck. He didn’t need to guide the drake; it knew where it was going and what it had to do in order to save its masters life.
The two entangled bodies were plummeting at a rapid pace, and Neth’tek wondered if the drake would reach them in time.
Vak had already given up the fight to Hestage, knowing that he had either to wait for his drake to come, or die waiting. Either option seemed sensible to him, but Vak had figured by this time he had chosen the option of death and knew that now there was no backing out of it.
However, when the roar of a winged monster echoed overhead as they fell, Hestage’s arms loosened as he glanced over his shoulder to see his mount falling into the darkness below. He then knew that he was now helpless to the fate below him.
Hestage cursed as he attempted to regain his hold on Vak, but realized he had hesitated a moment to long as Vak was now repeatedly elbowing him in his temple with a freed arm. Hestage could no longer get a hold on the Vulzdagg, and was throwing up his hands to deflect Vak’s elbows into his head.
Then Vak dove into him, slamming his whole body into Hestage’s chest and wrapping his arms around his waist. The reason for this was unknown to Hestage, and he wrapped his own arms round Vak so that they were holding fast to one another as they plummeted wildly downwards through the rushing air.
Hestage began to pull, to pry Vak from off him, but Vak held tight to the body of Hestage. However, Hestage reached into his own boot and unsheathed his dagger.
Vak saw the glimmer of the knife and quickly let go to seize the wrist holding the blade. A knee struck Vak in the stomach, forcing the air from his lungs. Placing both feet onto Vak’s chest, and angling himself so that he was above him, Hestage pushed with all his strength, throwing Vaknorbond Vulzdagg from him to fall more speedily than before into the dark abyss.
A glimmer of heat rushed by as Vak’s drake dove in for the rescue, and Hestage saw it from where he was calmly falling down above Vak.
Hestage laughed like a madman, and his laugh echoed throughout the whole cavern of darkness as he fell, and grew steadily louder before it was cut short as the laugher was caught by the sharp point of a stalagmite.
He dangled from the point of the strange rock formation at the base of his noble city, his warm blood running down its cold sides, causing it to glow to the infrared vision of those who would never come to see it.
The days of Hestage Swildagg spent in the darkness of the Shadow Realms had come to a dramatic and sudden end.
Chapter forty-one
A Light in the Darkness
Mazoroth did not hesitate to make his escape. He had failed his part in it all, and knew that with the Elemental now running from the city, something was wrong. It was either then or never that the Mazar’s were to escape with what was left of their tribe.
“The Darklings will do their part in destroying the people, but the city will stand without the Elemental,” Mazoroth said to them all as they climbed from the wreckage of the citadel. “Never again will I ever put the lives of the Mazar’s into the hands of a Follower, be it witch or warrior! None are to be trusted!”
The Mazar’s were gone, given up or dead, none of The Followers knew or cared. But the fact that they were gone gave Gregarr Grundagg some comfort in the knowledge that they were gaining an advantage over whatever pressed this attack against Vulzdagg. The Darklings were weak against the adamant blades of The Followers, but their numbers still increased and outdid the Vulzdagg’s and Grundagg’s.
However, the soldiers from both Branches still fought with all the furry and strength that they could conjure against the on come of cave-crabs and Darklings.
It was now Gefiny and Gregarr who led their soldiers on through the chaos.
Gefiny regrouped the Basilisk’s and their riders into formation once again, and prepared them to charge the charging Darklings and cave-crabs. “Prepare to charge!” she shouted at the riders over her shoulder. Then pointing her blade foreword she gave the command, saying, “Charge!”
The Basilisk’s leapt into action, plowing straight into the lines of monsters with no fear or hesitation. The riders held fast, raising swords, spears, scimitars, and other such weapons against such lesser beings.
The Darklings stood no chance, and were trampled under the claws of the Basilisk’s, and the cave-crabs were torn apart like paper by the scissor-claws of the mounts.
“This is it!” Gefiny shouted to
all who could hear, “This is our victory!”
All the warriors, mages, and rangers raised their voices into one final war cry as they plunged into the bodies of those who invaded them. The Darklings fought back, and fought hard, tearing through the adamant armor of The Followers with their razor sharp talons. Many were cast down who came at them.
Two fellow combatants fell dead beside Skandil as he stood alone against a charging group of Darklings, and now many Followers charged this group only to be cast down like those now lying beside him. Skandil couldn’t run, and knew that he had to fight them or else die in retreat.
He lifted his sword and shield in preparation to enter within the reach of the Darklings claws, but before he had taken three steps forward a figure leapt between him and them with a broad sword and swept many of the things away. It was Gregarr of Grundagg who stood before Skandil with raised sword, and a voice that commanded all others to enter the fight and die before the gates of Vulzdagg.
Skandil was soon surrounded by the charging troops who rushed into the fray, and the young warrior was shoved aside to find himself stumbling backwards to get clear of all the warriors. They hastened foreword with swords and shields, to press their attack and drive the Darklings away. However, Skandil was now standing within the citadel, watching the chaos from a safe distance.
There were other soldiers standing beside him, some shouldering steel crossbows and firing darts at any creature that managed to break through the wall of the fighting Followers. The others were the guards of the citadel, and they stood their ground awaiting anything that might attempt to enter the chamber.
It was then that the light came.
*****
Maaha struggled with her commanding thoughts over the Elemental. It seemed to suddenly have a mind of its own, and slowly she began to lose her mental grip over its mindless actions. The Elemental was running, charging the lines of the Darklings, and smashing them beneath its feet as it made its way toward the wall of Vulzdagg.
Shadow Realms: Part One of the Redemption Cycle Page 24
