Remnant Pages Spearhead

by J. B. Kleynhans

  Cid rode and fought, Drissil at right, with his sword flashing from horseback, the wanton fury of it all drowning out rational thoughts now. From all the contact Cilverhoof had a head wound, but Cid knew he had to stay mobile until the end. It was almost over now. The men were giving it their all, fighting as hard as they could to finish before more lives were lost. He broke clear, flying through the enemies, his spear striking here and there.

  Cid felt a gush of wind as one of the Rangers ripped through the Fallen just left of him and then pulling gloriously out of the dive again. Cilverhoof cantered and cantered to the far side, the resistance of enemies suddenly scant, the battle simply thinning and fading, the shouts and clash of steel growing weaker, the chorus of it all becoming solitary outcries.

  The clout and rage of battle lifted itself from Cid’s mind, his vision growing wider, removing his helm, and he saw it - he saw Lanston victorious, the black armours smote. They had won through. All was safe.

  He dismounted wearily, patting his horse on the cheek, the animal’s breath rattling in exhaustion. The battlefield was theirs, but there were always those still crawling, and those who would die in the next few moments so helplessly.

  May death be swift…

  Parvel signalled at Olexion and the First-Ranger looked down to the trail where he was pointing. Their Volje glided, circling Hashur, and as Olexion caught up to where Parvel was a second ago, he saw; Stelinger and his men were fleeing the valley. He knew it was them, not because he could identify Stelinger at this distance, but the parade of horses and the robed figure of a shadow Priest riding with him left him with no other assumption.

  It happened fast, the riders taking another trail, one that went north from the shoulder from the mountain. It was rarely ever used, for it went straight through Jacanta and Nimroth’s gate, a natural foothold of the Fallen that guarded the Ghost Pass or the abandoned roads stretching to the Fallen strongholds. Before Olexion could call Parvel back, the young Ranger sped off in pursuit. Olexion cursed. If they were going to strike at Stelinger it needed to be a co-ordinated effort.

  The battle might still have had loose ends then, but Olexion could not let Parvel pursue them on his own. He urged Oel Dannel on, trying to catch up. Parvel's Volj came plummeting through the air with unparalleled speed, wings folded, gaining on the horses at an alarming rate.

  The riders were already cantering across the Jacanta flats where the defeated Fallen army had camped so massively only hours before. Olexion and Parvel would take them here, out in the open, where the Volje could do their worst. It had to happen now, before the riders could take a trail where Volje would not be able to follow so closely.

  Soon the Volje were coming in low, closing in.

  After a few glances over his shoulder Stelinger shouted at his mage, who started preparing a spell of fire in mid-ride - no mean feat to be sure. Olexion knew it was pointless, for a lone Priest’s magic would merely fold on the Rangers’ barriers.

  Against all expectations Stelinger turned and wheeled his horse with great skill, charging in right underneath Parvel and reared the animal high. Parvel was diving so low he passed just over Stelinger, the claws missing their target, the path of horse and Volj not yet colliding.

  Stelinger’s sword came up flashing, not near enough to injure, just like the talons which missed him in turn, but slicing the air underneath the speeding Volj in a very deliberate act. It was never in vain, Parvel’s exposed barrier bursting into a thousand scattering Calophrites by Stelinger's sword, the fragments of silvery light dying away after an instant of escape.

  Parvel sped on unprotected, pulling out of the dive.

  Olexion knew in horror what was coming next; the dread confirmed as the waiting Priest aimed his staff.

  A great surge of violet flames erupted, burning vividly through the air and meeting Parvel head on. Both Ranger and Volj were swallowed in flame and smoke, crashing in a torment of cries. Olexion felt himself shout something senseless in the noise as Stelinger circled back, he and his entourage speeding away desperately to get into the Ghost Pass.

  Olexion turned back. He could no longer pursue, he could not risk it. He landed near Parvel’s wreck. Even from afar he knew the Ranger and the Volj were nothing more than incinerated remains.

  Olexion looked painfully at Parvel’s blackened face sticking out from underneath the beast’s frame. He felt nothing but blind hatred for this man Stelinger. He knew though he could chase the man to the ends of the earth and still lose against him. Helplessness was not something Olexion suffered easily and it was definitely not something he was used to.

  Warily Olexion mounted with his Volj again, Oel Dannel giving a sad low cry at seeing his kin’s demise. They took to the air again to return to the battlefield.

  Stelinger’s arrogant grin as Parvel hit the ground kept coming up, and it set the Ranger's blood boiling.

  Chapter 50

  Durandal Waiting

  The battle reached its inevitable climax; routing the remainder, laying to rest the wounded, and saving those Lanston men who could still be saved.

  There was nothing pretty about it. The cavalry scattered all around the Basin to cut down fleeing Fallen. Those foot soldiers of Lanston who could bear on were wandering around, bestowing death and mercy on the wounded Fallen or helping a brother. Magi and surgeons were everywhere, tents quickly erected for emergency surgery, and yet still they could not attend all the wounded at once. It was a place of anguish, the cries of men dampening the euphoria Lanston had shown moments before. The soil and rock of the Basin were bloodied, arms and war craft scattered along their dead owners all made for a grim painting from Olexion's vantage.

  Uncertainly he circled the Basin, not sure on how to approach Cid yet and wondering what he himself would do when all was said and done. This is a no man’s land, a place good for nothing but war and greed. Yet today it was not just survived by Cid, outlasting odds and enemies, but the man conquered it compellingly.

  His reward; the loss of his beloved…

  Whatever happened here was of little consequence for the nobility of Lanston. Cid could return a war hero, and yet if the right persons did not speak up, no court was going void the arrangement between Elmira and Fredrere. It left Olexion thinking; he still had the very real fear of the King's safety. Too many men have made noises regarding the matter in the last few months. What Olexion needed from all of this was Cid on his side. He was considering his options. If he could offer the soon to be Commander of Lanston the right incentive...

  In his heart Olexion was most fond of Yarea, above all other Summoners. He could see himself going after, but he was ruled by higher duty. He had to return to the Sovereignty. And he would need help.

  Satisfied that the battle had played out its last grim moments, Olexion quickly stopped by Oldeloft, letting Elmira get up behind him so that he could take her safely down to Cid and the others.

  What he witnessed here today however made Cid more valuable than any mighty Summoner, regardless of how much resistance he would encounter if he said something like that out loud.

  He dived with the Volj, finding Cid and Drissil walking slowly with their weary horses among a plethora of men both standing and laid down.

  Olexion landed, catching the attention of all nearby.

  Elmira smothered Cid in a hug the moment she dismounted, almost bringing down the man who was as bone weary as he had ever been.

  ‘You watched all of it didn't you?’ he said.

  ‘I'm just glad your okay. I never want to see anything like that again anyhow.’

  Over her shoulder Cid directed a tired smile at Olexion.

  ‘I'm very sorry about Parvel, I've been told...’ said Cid

  ‘As am I. Many men paid a price today Colonel. I'm afraid our struggle is not over. Walk with me if you will. There is something you and I must discuss.’

  Feeling some foreboding Cid left Elmira in the care of the others, and he and Olexion alone went on to discuss t
he future of the Kingdom.

  ***

  Cid called them all to the tent where they had done their war planning. The party shuffled in wearily, worried that there was some new crisis.

  ‘Enemies on the horizon?’ asked Alex.

  Cid, sitting in the middle of room, smiled reassuringly. ‘Only very far away.’

  ‘Where did you get the chessboard? Don't tell me your thinking of playing now?’ asked Brunick

  Cid shook his head. ‘Olexion retrieved it for me from Oldeloft.’

  ‘So what's this Cid?’ asked Elmira, as everyone gathered around.

  ‘That night that I proposed to you love, I met with Commander Bennam. He was trying to tell me... well many things, not all of which I understood or even took notice off. All this time I have been thinking, since we learned the level to which he gone to inform us; did he leave one last message in that room that only I would understand? We know he was being watched, so he couldn't say it directly.’

  ‘So what is it?’ asked Elmira.

  Cid held up his hand, ‘you will have to give me some patience. I would need to replicate what we did that night - on the board I mean, I can't help but feel Bennam was trying to point out something on it.’

  Drissil chuckled. ‘You cannot mean to tell you can remember a game you played two months ago.’

  ‘You clearly don't know Cid,’ said Brunick.

  ‘I'm going to try at any rate. If go through the motions, I should be able to remember how the board ended up, more or less at least.’

  ‘Good luck, we're rooting for you on this one,’ quipped Alex.

  The corner of Cid's mouth curled up in a smile.

  The others went quiet, and suddenly Cid was back there in the room with Bennam, playing for his part, playing against himself, making the moves as though he and Bennam were playing their game again. The exact same one. For awhile he was oblivious to those around him, hearing the fire of the hearth of that night, tasting the glass of wine, and Bennam staring intently at the board just across him. The others stood and watched in awe as Cid went about making move after move. They had no idea whether he was successful, but he looked very much like he knew what he was doing.

  The pieces thinned out, Cid taking his and Bennam's from the board as they clashed. Finally Cid halted, remembering the moment Bennam conceded defeat.

  Cid looked at the board in awe, ‘Bennam very deliberately stopped the game five moves from checkmate,’ making a final adjustment on the chessboard.

  Drissil crossed his arms. ‘A fine game I'm sure, but what does this mean for us?’

  Vanapha stepped closer in shock, looking at the pieces and the way they were arranged in their final state, seeing a pattern in them by looking directly down on them. ‘That is the symbol of the Kingslayer! As the moons undoubtedly will arrange soon enough!’

  Cid nodded. ‘Bennam knew. He wanted to warn me that someone will come after the King the way they had come after him.’

  A murmur broke out in the tent, the mood suddenly grim.

  ‘Guess that settles it, we're off to Asheva aren't we?’ asked Alex.

  ‘The King will need our protection,’ agreed Olexion.

  Brunick and Vanapha said nothing.

  ‘I had hoped all of this is over,’ said Elmira worryingly.

  ‘I'm afraid since Bennam's death matters have grown increasingly dire, love,’ said Cid, stretching his hand out and taking hers.

  Cid swung his head at Vanapha.

  ‘What are your plans Valkyrie?’ asked Cid.

  ‘I wanted to go Durandal from the very beginning, remember? I have to admit though, there is no point in me pursuing my past, especially not on such a capricious whim as I've entertained until now. I don't need Farsight to know that the Fallen agenda is mobilizing to a far greater extent than in the past. If the King is danger, I'd much rather come with you. If the King is the Fallen's great target, then I want help you.’

  Cid smiled gratefully at her.

  ‘Let us make arrangements then with the rest of the army. Colonel Drissil I would very much like it if you could take charge in marching the Lanston men back home. The rest of us, we must return to Kingdom borders with haste. We'll rest properly along the way, but the faster we get going the better!’ said Olexion, and everyone knew that he was right.

  When everyone had gone outside again, Brunick waited for Cid at the pavilion exit.

  ‘That's not the way the game played out, was it?’ asked Brunick.

  Cid snapped his head toward the Mason in surprise. Brunick looked angered.

  ‘I know that you made up all of that. That chess match. You and Olexion. You hatched this plan by his request.’

  Cid was stunned, and didn't know what to say to Brunick.

  ‘It's not that I don't believe that you can remember every single move that night, or that Bennam didn't have the guile. But for him to have orchestrated a match that finely would mean that he would have to play a game better than you. I know he couldn't beat you. And I know you Cid, I know when you are uncomfortable.

  ‘Duplicity does not come easy to you. And abandoning someone is even less characteristic of you; both you and Olexion know that Yarea was not captured by just any group of bandits, but extracted by agents of Bennam himself. Olexion himself cares for Yarea, so I knew something was up when he didn't raise regrets about turning back to the Kingdom. Bennam never wanted to save the king - if he really is in trouble - he wanted us to go to Durandal after winning the war and bring the stone to Yarea, and with her powers added to ours, we were supposed to cripple the Fallen beyond recovery. That was Bennam's mission,’ said Brunick, laying it out exactly like it was.

  ‘I believe that the King really is in trouble. Bennam made reference to it that night - for real. And he was wrong to think he could manipulate everyone to march blindly to Durandal, said Cid, ‘and is what I'm doing so different from his kind of manipulation?’

  ‘The old Commander set everything aside - his life - to give us a chance to strike at the heart of enemy. He wanted you, nobody else, to do this!’ said Brunick

  ‘And he condemns the king to death?’

  ‘Whose king Cid? Ours? The same politicians who have prohibited us from winning this war over and over again? No. Lanston is the might of the realm. Not Asheva. You have everything you need to rule. Once our mission was done, no one would command more power than you. The head of the eastern armies. The best of it is, no one is going to stop you from marrying Elmira.’

  Cid was dumbstruck. ‘I'm not an administrator of cities Brunick. I am a general. We cannot live under martial law because I deem the land's kings to be weak.’

  ‘What about going after Yarea?’

  Cid looked at his feet.

  ‘You say Bennam gave us this chance. I don't see it Brunick. We'll have to go to Durandal without the Rangers. We have very little hope of survival.’

  ‘So we are condemning Yarea to whatever fate awaits her?’

  Cid wiped a solitary tear from his eye. ‘She is going to be alright.’

  ‘But not returned to her former self. As dumb and ignorant as the Fallen.’

  ‘Quiet down Brunick. It's not the same. I won't play Bennam's games. Not when he all but lied to me. If we save the sovereign rather, Elmira and I will be married. Olexion... Olexion has a lot of influence. I have to believe that. It is not just her either; I'm not going to risk your safety or the others'. And, I'm not going to risk my life with Elmira. I have waited long enough Brunick. I want my wife. You have to understand that if Yarea was just beyond the next hill, I would have chased after her. But we don't know is waiting for us in Durandal.

  Brunick sighed. ‘You sure that spear isn't already weighing too heavily on you?’

  Cid shook his head. ‘This is all me. Don't tell the others. Whatever wrongs I'm doing means someone like Vanapha won't go running north just to put herself in danger. We need Vanapha to come with us as I am sure you know. If we are going to chase a Kingslayer no one's abil
ities will be more important.’

  ‘I won't tell the others. I will however not be part of this. I will be going home.’

  ‘What? Wait, no Brunick. We'll still need good soldiers! With you at my side-

  ‘Sorry Cid, it is time anyways. It's been a long time for me and I want to see my family. I would much rather do that than go on a mission that I don't believe in.’

  Cid was quiet for awhile. ‘I understand. Go well. I... there is no one I value at my side more than you. Come back soon. You have to marry me and Elmira anyhow, remember?’

  Brunick nodded with a faint smile, which gladdened Cid, for a moment he had thought his trickery was going to cost him his friendship. But there was something else nagging at Cid now, something else he saw in Brunick's demeanour.

  ‘Your home is much farther away than you care to admit, isn't it?’ asked Cid, knowing he was right, but realizing he still knew very little about the Masons.

  ‘I'll be back. Maybe sooner than you think,’ reassured Brunick.

  The day became slow and dreary. Great pyres were erected for all the dead. They moved away from it before day's end, from a battlefield beset by fires, camping in the canyon before the great trek back home. The battle was won by Lanston but operation Biridian was certainly over before it really began. A compromised mission like this would never be allowed to endure.

  Cid kept the Alder stone, turning it over and over. He had made a silent promise to himself that should there ever come a time that Lanston could start a campaign on Durandal that he would seek out and rescue Yarea. More than that, he could not shake the feeling that Yarea, with her memories restored by an Alder stone, would hold Bennam's closest secrets. That made him think that he was making a mistake not going after her. One day I will come for you. Strange then, Cid felt that come what may, whatever direction life took, he would go to Durandal eventually. It was unavoidable. One day... and when that day came, he, and whoever went with him, would be in for the fight of their lives.