The Last Pantheon: of spiders and falcons

by Jason Jones

  “Keeping count, James?” Shinayne whispered over her shoulder, back to back with the men in a tight circle.

  “No need, we are all dead at this point.” James saluted his blade to the ogre horde as it neared from behind, the north, and the south. Perhaps fifty he counted, though the numbers mattered little.

  “That’s the spirit.” Shinayne rolled her eyes.

  “He is right, but kill as many as you can, make them earn it.” Saberrak roared a challenging bellow as the enemy closed in.

  Back to back the three stood, steel glimmering in the sunlight, as the ogre hunting party closed in from all sides.

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  “Ogre raid! Ogre raid! Alert Lord T’Vellon, send for Lady Kaya!” The knight of Southwind put the leather tube back to his eye, seeing the horde of ogre racing into Alvander Field on the southwestern side of the keep.

  The spyglass showed a large group surrounding something. It looked to him like another knight of Southwind, with a woman and some other beast. His heart fluttered in fear, this having been the seventh ogre raid from the west this winter. Young Millan Mederris knew that the knights were spread too thin, with the escort of King Mikhail to the eastern coast to visit Prince Johnas, the king’s nephew. Then there were the raids in Silverbridge, and troll scavengers south near Thurick. The last year had seen more ogre activity than decades past, since the west was reopened on the order of the King. The plague had supposedly wiped the ogre out, however, the knights of Southwind had been fighting against a reawakened breed, much more fierce than most of them remembered.

  “Ogre where, young Mederris?!” the tall striking man grabbed the spyglass from his subordinate, looking south. His were eyes like steel, his posture perfect, his white tabard with the feathered cross of red fluttered in the wind.

  Lord Alexei T’Vellon saw the mass of ogre and saw one of his men standing tall and unafraid in the middle of it. “How did he get out there? Damn it, open the south portcullis! How many do we have Mederris!?” The Lord of Southwind ran his fingers through his short dark hair, moving quickly down the stairs from the wall.

  “We have fifty-one my lord, fifty-two with yourself.” Millan knew he would be coming, knew all of them would be coming with Lord Alexei. “We are spread too thin for this---“

  “Tell my sister to have the archers assembled, now. Watch the north and the east. On our return, cover the south should they be brave enough to try the walls.” His orders were clear and calm, his voice unshaking, as he mounted his black steed, drawing out his steel. Alexei charged to meet the ogre and save a knight of Southwind Keep, fifty-one mounted men scrambling and charging behind him. Sword raised, he yelled out a battle charge that all in the keep heard. It was the same yell that the ogre had heard before he killed them many times previous, the same he wanted his late father to hear.

  Millan Mederris turned to the inner keep and was grabbed by the arm and spun around. He met the striking cold stare of his Lords’ twin sister.

  “Where is my brother going?!” the Lady of the keep asked in near panic, placing her steel armguards on quickly, strapping on her weapons, and picking up her shield. She cast a quick squint to Evril Alvander who was close behind, donning a chain shirt as fast as he could. “Evril, you stay.”

  Millan looked to them both, confused, then to set of stairs to the keep they must have come from, then looked back to Lady Kaya.

  “Answer me!”

  The young boy lowering the portcullis, barely in his teens, stumbled for words and came up pointing west. “You are to man the south wall….and…archers…ogre…milady…”

  “Hold that gate, boy.” Kaya straddled a steed, whose she did not care, just one that was ready, and she whipped it forward. Ducking under the iron portcullis past the young boys trying to close it, she ignored the orders for her to man the walls. She was not about to let her fraternal twin take more glory for their father, not all by himself, anyway. She was the elder by almost an hour and had tried to remind Alexei of this more than once when a battle came. Dark auburn hair flowing behind her on the patched white and brown stallion, her eyes were like steel, focused on catching the rest of the knights.

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  Six dead ogre lay in pools of crimson around them, the first six too eager to take the kills before the surround. The minotaur backed up next to the elf, protecting her with his size, growling at the incoming ogre. James stared at the largest ogre there, a plump painted one on the back of a brahma, spear pointed at them, grinning back in turn.

  “Well met and all, Saberrak, Shinayne.” James nodded to the two about to die with him as four dozen ogre encircled them.

  “Time for farewells is not yet at hand, James Andellis.” Shinayne pointed toward the crest of the hill to the east.

  “Shut your mouths and kneel, my master will have his property back. Take the gray one, kill the woman, maim the human. He looks familiar to me..” The large ogre on a hairy steed spoke roughly as spittle streamed down his tusks.

  “You have company, you ugly bastard!” Saberrak grinned and twirled his axe, nodding toward the charging cavalry cresting the hill due east. “Give my regards to Zeress!”

  James allowed a smile of genuine relief, excitement, and nervousness hearing the rumble of cavalry approach. Quickly the ogre prepared for a charge, orders shouted between them all, and it gave James the moment he needed.

  The knight dashed ahead, under the spear tip a split second later, next to the shaggy long hair of the brahma, grabbing one of the small curled horns from atop its bovine face. He pulled forward, his shield falling to the ground. Turning the large beast, groaning and struggling, while its rider tried to steady it. Between the snow covered ground, the knight guiding the brahma left, and the ogre pulling back and right, the beast had had enough. Rearing back with a bellowing roar of frustration, the ogre fell to the ground as James let go of the horn.

  Forgetting the shield, seeing the elf and the minotaur behind him in action, he moved above the fattened ogre chief. The spear spun up at his face, missing by inches. A second attack from the ground went just under the knight’s arm, he caught it and pinned the shaft in his armpit. James spun left, snapping the pole, raising his sword in two hands, and plunged it into his enemy’s chest. The ogre howled in pain, punching the knight in the chin, knocking him back into the angered brahma.

  James’ vision blurred. A blade, his blade, whisked past his head, striking the furious beast of burden behind him. The ogre chieftain had dislodged it from its chest and hurled it back at him. Furiously flailing to get to its feet and get out of the midst of combat, the brahma roared behind them, snapping James back into his senses. He grabbed the lodged broadsword, drawing it out of the side of the beast and across the ogre ready to kill him. Blood ran down the injured savage chieftain, covering his animal skins and armor. A second and final thrust to the chest put it down for good. Then a clash of charging horses, men, and ogre deafened all upon the winter field.

  Ogre turned, hurling spears at the downhill charging men of Southwind Keep, only a few steeds tumbling into the snowy field. The clamor of steel through bone weapons and roars of pain mixed with spraying ogre blood from a furious charge painted the battlefield. Lord Alexei pulled his men left, past the bucking brahmas, past the knight, sword arms cutting through ogre ranks as they circled. Slowing their pace after the initial wave, the Lord of Southwind turned back, shield side to the ogre, directing his men to cut through their ranks. Steady horses under sure soldiers moved into the fray, blocking massive blows and placing well timed strikes and thrusts, chopping into the giant trespassers.

  Ogre fell, withdrew, and backed into the edge of the forest line for a chance to defend themselves, now outnumbered more than three to one and exhausted from their days long chase. Yet for an ogre, three to one versus human men was a fair fight, on any field. It seemed these knights were not aware of those beliefs, for they fought with a ferocity and fever the
ogre could not match this day.

  “Drive them back to the west, knights!” the Lord of the Keep issued orders as he carved through the confused mass of his most hated creature on all of Agara. The orphan knights of Southwind did as ordered, well trained in fighting the ogre in the years under Lord Alexei T’Vellon. Some only saw a younger version of Lord Arlinne, a son after his late father.

  Saberrak threw the bone dagger into the back of the spear-wielding beast in front of Shinayne. The ogre arced in pain, opening its chest wide and defenseless for but a moment. All she needed. Shinayne cut upward across the ribcage of her monstrous adversary, spearing her left blade in between the ribs above the cut, staggering the ogre backward to the frozen floor. Keeping close to the gray gladiator, she cut the legs of those that came near and Saberrak chopped the wounded down with his deadly double-bladed axe. One, then three, then six they fell, the two of them turning round in circles, back to back. Seventeen dead ogre lay at the feet of the minotaur and the highborn elf. James had many dead around him, those that came for vengeance for their chieftain. Very quickly, the certain doom they fought against was little more than a scrambling retreat. The three found themselves surrounded not by an ogre tribe, but by the guardians of the western border of Chazzrynn, the Knights of Southwind Keep.

  James picked up his falcon emblazoned shield and marked another five notches on its back. He strapped it over his shoulder and cleaned his blade on dead ogre pelts. He was not ready to make conversation with any soldiers here that might know him. He hoped he was long forgotten.

  “Lord T’Vellon,” one of the men shouted above the retreating ogre and reorganizing cavalry, “Should we pursue?”

  James hung his head, sheathing his sword, knowing already who they must be speaking to. He grew silent quickly. The once knight turned his back and remained away from the gathering.

  One set of galloping hooves broke the coming silence.

  “Lady T’Vellon!” One knight announced and gave a nod of respect as she slowed her charge over the blood soaked snow.

  “No, we let them flee. We are stretched thin here. Gather the injured and the dead. Burn the ogre. You fought well men, all of you.” His words were cold, feeling his sister’s presence next to him. Alexei’s blood boiled.

  Again she defies me in front of the men and endangers the keep should this have been a diversion, he thought in near hatred.

  “I told you to stay, man the walls and archers, protect Southwind, Kaya. Why do you insist on embarrassing us in front of the men?” Alexei whispered low.

  “The same reason you insist on not valuing me on the field.” She replied softly.

  “And if there were another score to the north or south of our home?” He queried coldly, counting the dead ogre at a glance. Twenty six dead the lord saw here, another dozen at the forest edge, yet it did not improve his demeanor. He saw several of his own unmoving in the snow as well.

  “Our walls would hold, we would charge them, and more would die. Not to worry brother, our father sees your victory.”

  Her words were distant as well, eyes fixed on the huge gray minotaur pulling a bone sword from an ogre body. She had never seen a minotaur close up before, and the rumors of their savagery kept her a good length away.

  “When I give an order, it is not for anything but the---“

  “You ensured that I missed battle again, brother, I am sure that pleases you. Take comfort in it. The men revere you, bask in it.”

  Kaya dismounted and strode closer to the horned warrior who was conversing with an elven woman dressed in royal purple, black, and gold, beautiful and tan. If she could not be first in battle, she would be first in greeting the strangers. The men of the orphan families of Southwind did as always, ignoring the animosity between the two, respecting sibling rivalry, and following Alexei’s orders.

  “Hail strangers and fellow enemies of the ogre plague. What brings you to Chazzrynn and Southwind Keep?” Kaya was pleasant, yet direct, knowing elves were few in the south and this one looked almost regal in her matching blades and fine clothing. The minotaur was massive, she did not know of a gray, and not one traveling with an elf or a fellow knight of Southwind for that matter. Kaya could tell they were not from here and suspected they had gotten lost or run off from seeking treasures in the western ruins, like so many the patrols had found, usually dead.

  Sensing the current meeting was safe, Shinayne sheathed her weapons and stepped forward to greet the lady with proper formality. The elf saw the garments of a soldier, shortsword and shield, not of a royal elven lady. However, she suspected this woman had rank or authority since no one interrupted her greeting.

  “Lady Shinayne T’Sarrin of Kilikala, and I am most grateful for your assistance here.”

  “Southwind is tasked from the king of Chazzrynn to defend the west, and so we do.” Kaya smiled as a few rousing hoorahs went up from nearby soldiers. Yet her eyes were investigating the dirty Southwind tabard, the man with his back turned to her.

  “Why were the ogre chasing you? Stolen treasures from Arouland?”

  “Not entirely, no. Our paths crossed, each on a separate endeavor, and the ogre have been hunting us since. Although we were hunting a lost friend, taken by a wicked elf and his trolls. A satyr, a creature of the forest and fey. Have you seen them?” Shinayne bowed once more.

  “No, I am afraid nothing resembling trolls or elves has passed near us.” Kaya returned the bow. “So the ogre were hunting you, why?”

  “We killed several outside Arouland, and---“

  “Me. And perhaps, this,” Saberrak interrupted, huffed out his chest, and showed the stone scroll in his hand to the human lady. His eyes wandered the outskirts, looking for the brown minotaur that had not been present, though he was sure he was close.

  “It speaks. My, I was unaware, forgive me. And what is this scroll you carry, minotaur? Do you have a name?” Kaya was a bit startled by the deep voice of the gray beast.

  “Yes. Do you?” He retorted.

  “This is Saberrak the gray, and our other companion there, is James Andellis. We have lost a friend to capture, a satyr by the name of…” the elven swordswoman noticed her proper bow and greeting were now mostly ignored as she had gestured, open handedly, toward the minotaur, then to James. Shinayne waved her hand down quickly for Saberrak to put the scroll away, her eyes now on the attentions of the lady.

  All eyes, soldiers, the lady to her front, and the Lord on horse, turned, looking toward the dirty and worn knight. All went silent, save a few hushed whispers from the men who had stopped dragging and gathering wood to burn the ogre corpses.

  “Is there something perhaps, I have missed lady..?” prodding for at least a name and wondering why they paid her no mind, Shinayne turned to look at James as well, seeing him the object of all the stares. Shinayne let her hands slowly fall near the hilts of her blades.

  “Kaya, Lady Kaya T’Vellon of Southwind Keep, and my brother Lord Alexei. A moment, please.” Kaya walked over toward the knight, observing his posture. He was sitting atop a dead ogre, facing away from them all. He was draped in long hair, unshaven for years, his white tabard almost brown from lack of attention. Kaya saw the golden hilt with a griffon crosspiece on the man’s side. She turned to her twin who was also staring at the man and had turned to meet his sister’s gaze. She nodded to Alexei and took a breath.

  Alexei turned his stallion north toward the keep without a word to the men and rode through the snow covered field, mind full of emotions he could not separate. He knew that this was not the time, in front of his sister, in front of the men, after a fierce battle, to question James Andellis nor face him. He needed a moment alone.

  The Lady of Southwind moved closer, in mild disbelief, to get a look at the man from the front. Kaya walked slowly, circling around to look at him, hand on her hilt. Blue eyes, staring back at hers, head lowered, red feathered cross covered in bloodstains under the mess of tangled hair and beard. It was, in fact, James Andellis, the lone surv
ivor that deserted the keep so many years ago. Kaya felt anger and sadness, moved her eyes to his, then to the sword and back. Her anger welled into tears, then to pulling her hand back to slap the man who had never told her how her father died, if he had died, if he fought valiantly. The crack of her hand across his face echoed in the silence.

  A heavy breath of hot air huffed from behind her, blowing her hair. Kaya turned to see, standing well over two feet above her, the stern face of a horned minotaur, tattoos under his eyes, eyes that told her in no words not to strike James Andellis again. Saberrak’s arms crossed, no weapons drawn, just standing there silently behind her like a giant statue or guardian of this fallen knight.

  “Keep moving men, nothing to see here. Nothing indeed.” Kaya glared at the beast, then the same to the elf, and mounted her borrowed steed. “Trolls, ogre, minotaurs and elves. Soon dwarves will run down the Bori Mountains, I am sure of it. Yet my stomach turns with the stench of a traitor in my midst. You may stay in Southwind, one night, and then be gone by first light.”

  Her dark hair was like a trail of brown waves as she headed back to the keep behind her brother. Kaya planned on talking to Alexei on the matter, knowing he would be more hospitable than she wanted, but she did not want this man near them for long if she could do anything about it. Alexei, she knew, would offer solace from the cold, be understanding to enemies of the ogre, and do what a Lord should to outsiders. Kaya wanted answers, justice, punishment, and to leave the wretch out in the cold for his disloyalty of years past.