Against That Shining Darkness: Boxed Set Trilogy

by Chogan Swan

  “First you will contend with me,” he shouted, drawing out a shining sword from his robes. He rushed forward. The baalim all fell back as Jyrmak charged through them. Balaak whirled back towards Jyrmak and threw a dark missile. It glanced off Jyrmak's sword, but the necromancer followed it with another and another—each knocked away by the shining sword. Jyrmak moved forward, step by step against the darting fire, until the two of them came together, and a sound like thunder echoed from the hillsides.

  A flaming blade of crimson replaced the necromancer's darts. Sparks and blinding flashes of light fountained from where they fought and lit up the mountainside.

  The demons screamed and hissed, afraid to approach.

  ~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~

  “Father?” said Wyatt, spinning around.

  The King stood beside Marshall at the entrance to the tent.

  Keri’s mouth dropped open.

  Where did he come from?

  She shook her head, worried she had lost her sense of risk avoidance.

  The King stepped over the sentry and took the yoked ring from Seth's hand. “This task is mine,” he said to Seth. “You’ve done well, but this is for me alone.” He stepped to the center of the tent and lifted his hands. “Creator of the universe,” he breathed. “I ask for your mercy for the lost ones you sent us to rescue.” Arod slipped the ring onto the forefingers of his left and right hands, holding them together in front of him. “Break this bond; destroy this yoke.”

  A sense of power filled the tent. They waited in hushed expectancy; long moments went by, but nothing seemed to happen.

  The King spoke again, “Whatever you ask, I will give.”

  There was a shorter pause this time.

  “Even that,” said Arod.

  With a flash of fire, the rings flared and burned to ash. Arod brushed the ashes off his fingers and smiled.

  “Glory,” whispered Kane.

  “Now what happens?” asked Marshall.

  “Where did that sentry go?” said Keri.

  Kane peeked through the tent flap and pulled out his sword. “I think..., it will be harder getting out of here than it was to get in,” he said.

  Seth and Keri looked. The sentry had alerted two commanders, who were shouting orders trying to gather enough forces to surround the hill.

  “We need to make for the boulders,” Keri said. “It’ll make it difficult for them to use their numbers against us.”

  “Agreed,” said Marshall.

  “Let's move then,” snapped Alaina. “Before they cut us off.”

  Shouldering her way to the front, she drew her sword. Seth grabbed her arm.

  “Marshall and I will go first then Keri and the King, you, Kane and Wyatt take the rear, and if anyone needs help, you aid them.”

  Without looking back, Seth asked, “All ready?”

  “Right behind you,” Keri said.

  The moon had broken through the cloud cover, and the camp shone with a pale light. As they ran out of the tent, a shower of sparks and flashes of light erupted on the hillside across from them. Many of those who would have attempted to stop their escape were staring in the other direction when they swept past. Those were the fortunate ones.

  The first squad of the Tyr-Goth to notice and try to halt them was mowed down, grass before a sharp scythe. They sped through the tents, weaving around congested areas.

  As Seth and Marshall passed a tent, a huge man charged out with a drawn sword, the shadow of a baal clung to him, driving him at them. Keri was closest, and his charge almost caught her off guard. Although she’d been training, she was still not skilled with the sword. Her parry was awkward, and the attack threw her into a vulnerable position. If Alaina hadn’t flashed into a burst of speed, intercepting and cutting down the baal, he would have driven his blade through her chest.

  “Thanks,” she gasped, turning again to run.

  The two of them caught up and helped to beat off another attempt to stop them by a group of eight half-hearted pikemen. Marshall and Seth drove them aside, knocking them down and pushing them into a tangle of tent cords. They all sped on, their goal growing nearer. But when they were only fifty yards away from the boulder field, their path was blocked by two squads of Tyr-Goth. Behind those were the dark shadows of six baalim who had driven the soldiers into position.

  Without stopping, Seth and Marshall swerved left, putting on even more speed. The rest followed. Howls from the baalim drove the soldiers after them. Another squad ran up, blocking their path to the boulder fall.

  Seth and Marshall stopped short, the others pulled up behind them, breathing hard. The moonlight and the flashes on the hill lit the field with eerie, interrupted light.

  “We must get to the boulders,” Seth said. “It’s our only chance.”

  “Make the sleeve and turn it out,” said Marshall.

  “Only way,” agreed Keri.

  “Everyone got it?” asked Seth.

  Everyone did.

  “Same order then.” Seth said. “Now!”

  They charged the pack that blocked their path. Seth and Marshall hit the line together and drove a gap into it. The force of their attack made a wedge that Keri and King Arod slipped through, forcing the Tyr-Goth further apart. All they needed to do was hold their own for a moment. Kane and Alaina went through the gap behind them, and Wyatt followed to knock down the one baal that tried to stop them. It vanished with a red flash and a despairing scream as he drove his blade to its heart.

  They rolled through the hole in the order they’d entered, disengaging by turns. They dashed into the rocks, but they did not go far before realizing the slight delay had allowed the trap to close. The baalim had dispatched a whole platoon behind the boulder field to surround them.

  They rushed on nonetheless. It only made sense to go as far as they could; going back was not an alternative. From all sides the Tyr-Goth closed in, picking their way through the rocks, not rushing now that they had their quarry trapped.

  Fifty feet from the end of the boulders, the seven came to a stand at last.

  Chapter 12 (Trapped in the Dark)

  A dark shadow brushed past him, the wind startled Arturo and he almost struck out by reaction, but Fletch’s raspy voice halted him.

  “Lord Prince, what happens? The noise and flashing woke me, and I thought I heard someone call my name.”

  “The flashing is your master's battle with the sorcerer, and no one dares go near to see how that fares,” said Arturo. “They fight on the hillside there.”

  A messenger came panting up the hill. “Lord Prince,” he gasped. “Commander Jedediah, sent me to tell you the Tyr-Goth no longer respond to the skirmishing, but pull back without breaking ranks. He fears we are not deceiving them.”

  “What skirmish is that then?” croaked Fletch. “Over in the boulder field?”

  “There is no—” Arturo broke off, peering down the hill straining to see in the uncertain moonlight. “Fletch?”

  The raven jumped to Arturo's glove .

  “Give me a start,” ordered the raven.

  Arturo cast him from his fist, and Fletch shot downhill as fast as his wings would go.

  “Call the commanders to come here,” Arturo shouted to his messengers.

  ~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~

  Arturo looked over his commanders. Margai looked haggard, a long cut seeped red through the bandages down his arm. Coran, the Russ, was dirty and covered with specks of blood, none of it his. Mitkai waited silent. Jedediah, who's forces were fighting farthest from the command post, ran up and saluted, breathing hard.

  Fletch rocked from foot to foot where he was perched on Arturo's shoulder.

  Arturo spoke the moment Jedediah arrived. “I will speak to the point; time is short. Fletch tells me the team infiltrating the enemy's camp is now trapped in the boulder field, fighting for their lives, and King Arod is with them. To save them, we will need to make a drive into enemy ground.”

  “That is madness,” objected Margai.
“I respect them and admire their courage, even if I don't understand what reason they had for going down there. But committing our forces that far could insure our defeat. As it stands now, we can hold off the Tyr-Goth. This is folly, surely none of them would abandon our success.”

  “I agree,” rumbled the Russ. “They would not want us to throw away the victory they fought for.”

  “As a rule,” said Arturo, “I would agree, but my heart says otherwise, and I have a conviction I can't begin to understand that compels me. I cannot order you,” he said, “I know it flies in the face of reason, but I will go down, even if no one else follows.”

  “Perth will follow you, baron,” said Jedediah. “We must hurry if the King is in danger.”

  Mitkai spoke up. “General Kilan—I mean Prince Wyatt—left you in charge. His men and I are sworn to him and his purposes. We will go to the valley with you as well.”

  Margai threw his hands up in despair. “I suppose we can support you, but I cannot extend my own men into that trap.”

  Coran growled in disgust, but stood up and waved his hand. “We will all die from this, I think,” he rumbled, “but it will only come to us sooner rather than later.”

  “I’m glad you are all agreed,” snapped Fletch, “because if we don’t get those seven out of there, Jyrmak will go to their aid alone, necromancer or not. And, without them, the Dark Hand will suck the light from the world.”

  ~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~

  Seth ducked behind his boulder again.

  If the Tyr-Goth hadn’t been so sure of us, we would never have lasted this long.

  The enemy had tried several tactics: trying to overwhelm them with numbers had proven ineffective. The poor footing among the rocks meant that, often, they could only come to blows with each other one at a time. This worked to the advantage of the fugitives, who were more skilled with their weapons. They held their enemies off for an hour, protecting each other’s backs, letting two take turns resting in the middle of the circle while the others fought. Then The squadrons tried backing off and shooting into the rocks with arrows and slung stones, but this allowed the seven to crawl off in the boulders. When the Tyr-Goth had returned, expecting to find their quarry all slain, they encountered a nasty ambush instead. The baalim would not come against them in the flesh.

  The Tyr-Goth tactics grew more desperate as their task masters pushed them. But—even after another hour of ceaseless attempts to wear down the easterners—they’d yet to bring down even one of them.

  But the fighting was taking its toll. Seth knew it, and so did the others, even if the Tyr-Goth could not yet see it. The seven would start losing their edge soon, it was impossible to fight forever.

  ~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~

  Arod and Keri were in the middle of the circle sheltered by two convenient boulders during a short lull in the fight.

  “I have a gift for you,” Arod.

  “That's nice,” Keri said with an exhausted chuckle. “You picked a strange time, but I guess it will do. I don't know when my birthday is anyway, an’ there's no telling if I'll make it to my next.”

  “I think you will,” he said with a quick smile. “Else it would be worthless, and—since the Creator told me to give it to you—it must be worthwhile.”

  “Well,” Keri said. “You've caught my attention now.”

  “This is part of my birthright,” said Arod, “a covenant between the Creator and my ancestors.”

  Keri's eyes widened.

  “And though it is much used already,” Arod said, “it should still serve you. Come here.” Keri sat up and knelt before him. Arod spoke words in a language she didn't know, laying his hands on her shoulders, then he blew on her face.

  Keri felt a strange warmth start there and spread, tingling, to the rest of her body.

  A fresh wave of Tyr-Goth scrambled over the rocks toward them, and the clashing song of swords began again. Arod stiffened with a grunt of pain.

  “Take cover,” shouted Marshall “they're shooting through their own men.”

  The group of them all broke off fighting and dove for shelter behind the boulders. The soldiers from Tyr-Goth took cover as well, as a hail of arrows clattered among the surrounding stones. Then daggers were out, and the fight continued as they struggled against each other now on their bellies.

  Then the arrows stopped, and men with the grey and white uniforms of Perth were all around them. The platoon of Tyr-Goth, taken unaware, had fallen in a breath of time.

  “Your majesties, hurry we must withdraw.” It was Jedediah beckoning to them.

  Seth and Wyatt sprang to their feet and dashed up the hill.

  “Help me,” yelled Keri, “Help! The King; he's hurt.”

  An arrow with a black shaft stood out from under Arod's arm. Six pairs of hands grabbed him and passed him onto a stretcher.

  “Hurry,” shouted Jedediah again, and as they had come, they turned and fled back the same way.

  Arturo called orders to his field commanders, the Perthians and the mercenaries from Wyatt's command responded with quick precision.

  Arturo began hoping the rescue would go smoothly. They had reached their objective and even now, the rescued group was running from the rocks toward the safety of the lines. Arturo glanced back to order retreat, but his voice was drowned by an angry blast of horns from the northern side. A wedge of armored foot soldiers behind locked shields sprang from the shadows and charged across the line of retreat. The baalim had reacted with supernatural speed to drive the Tyr-Goth into position.

  Perth was cut off, along with Wyatt's mercenary troops. They were downhill and would soon be outnumbered as more Tyr-Goth poured in to build up their ranks.

  Seth, Wyatt and Marshall came running up from the rocks. Keri noted that—for once—they looked exhausted.

  “Don't advance uphill!” shouted Seth, “Have the men tighten ranks and fall back to the cliffs on the side.”

  Arturo shouted orders to his forces; and Mitkai, directing the rear guard, retreated into the meager shelter provided by the rock walls.

  When they came under the shadow of the cliff, they turned and set themselves, the knights and soldiers of Perth rushed up from the boulders to reinforce them.

  Keri came up the hill behind Arod's stretcher. She knelt beside the King when the bearers set him behind a screen of stones. When Perth's knights saw Arod and the arrow under his arm, their faces turned grim and cold. And when the Tyr-Goth charged, blowing their brassy horns, the men from Perth turned to them with bared teeth and a dangerous look in their eyes.

  Keri sat miserable, unable to try removing the shaft for fear she might cause more damage. The strange red and white flashes continued to light the sky, and the precocious moon seemed to race along its path, though the minutes dragged. Wave after wave, the Tyr-Goth came, cursing and struggling and dying.

  Wyatt's mercenaries and the Perthian knights fought in silence except for quick orders from officers and gasps of effort and pain and death.

  Seth and Wyatt and Marshall along with Kane and Alaina each took a place in the rotation moving rested fighters into the defense. On the slopes above, the Russ and Margai's troops fought to close ranks with their allies trapped against the cliffs.

  But the baalim, sensing weakness, drove more and more forces into the breach. By inches, the eastern advance downhill ground to a halt. With almost half their forces trapped on the other side of the lines, they were running out of resources. The tide reversed, and the Tyr-Goth pushed them up the slope. Another wave came driving up against them from the north and Margai's troops had to retreat to avoid being cut off themselves.

  The enemy forced them apart, surging forward with eager strokes, beating their way uphill now that they could see how thin the line was that held them back.

  ~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~

  Balaak feinted a blow with the red sword and leapt back, laughing. “While you have delayed here, your army has fallen into my hands. Look, even now they are divided, and
my forces are advancing to the pass with no resistance.”

  Jyrmak glanced up the hill. For a moment his face fell.

  “Despair, old fool. I have beaten you,” screamed the sorcerer.

  Taking a breath, the wizard seemed to force a laugh. Then he laughed without effort. “Why should I lose heart? What good would that do?” he raised his sword again. “I will rather praise the Creator and continue to fight you. Do you think you formed the world or cause the sun to rise even now?” As he spoke, the eastern sky lit up behind him.

  Balaak flinched. What could the light be? It was still the middle of the night. He could deal with the illusion that the moon lit the sky, but who could make the sunrise appear untimely?

  Jyrmak lifted his sword and charged the sorcerer, raining blows on him with new energy. Balaak gave way as the circle of the sun rose above the pass. It fell on his eyes, and he stumbled, guarding himself. Through the glare he could see his army's charge had halted as well, amazed by the unexpected sunlight. The easterners, with the sun at their backs, had turned and were driving them back. There seemed to be more of them than he’d estimated. They charged down the hill on horseback with banners flying and trumpets that called out in joyous note.

  “Larain! Larain for Gynt!” The host shouted as they rode to the battle. It was the last sound Balaak heard in the world of the living. A blow from Jyrmak shattered the red blade and swept through his body, breaking the spells and enchantments that had held it together for so many ages.

  ~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~

  The Tyr-Goth charge faltered as the light glared in their eyes. A moment later, the mounted knights of Duke Edvard struck their line.

  When he looked up at the rising sun, Seth saw the banner of Larain as they came through the pass. He grabbed the horn hanging from the Perthian standard and blew a call that echoed round the valley. “To me!” called the horn, “Larain, to me.”

  “Wave that standard, Kane!” he shouted. “If they can break through to us...”