by R A Oakes
Trusting the warrior woman’s battle instincts, King Tarlen followed her lead reaching up and grabbing the fur on Chaktar’s shoulder with both hands. Then, jumping and pulling at the same time, he made it onto his enormous tiger-brother’s back, inching forward and straddling his friend’s neck. King Ulray quickly followed suit but with Lord Grenitar kneeling and making it easier for the elderly monarch to get mounted.
Immediately, Chen’s 100 warrior women joined them, each picking one of the powerful tigers from the past and straddling its shoulders.
Going up on their hind legs, the huge tigers began roaring, displaying giant incisors while slashing the air with long, sharp claws. Mounted on Lord Grenitar’s majestic big cats, Chen’s warrior women presented a powerful, yet sensuous, vision that was as dangerous as it was breathtakingly beautiful. Hair blowing in the wind, dressed in black from head to toe, swords unsheathed and screaming battle cries, the warrior women and the golden tigers complemented each other while creating a striking contrast that served to enhance the overall intimidating effect.
Weighing between 500 and 600 pounds each, the massive tigers were formidable-looking mounts for their equally impressive riders. Only King Tarlen and King Ulray’s tigers were bigger, with Chaktar and Lord Grenitar each topping 700 pounds. It was a vanguard guaranteed to strike fear into the hearts of even the most resolute warriors, and gargoyles were, by now, anything but resolute.
“For the king!” Chen yelled at the top of her lungs pointing her sword at the retreating gargoyles.
“For the king!” her warrior women shouted holding razor-sharp swords over their heads as the tigers roared in agreement.
As this armada of feminine and feline rage was being unleashed in the courtyard below, gargoyles farther ahead along the walkway were feeling weak with relief since it appeared the tigers would be going after the deserters rather than themselves. For the moment, they believed they were safe. But they were wrong.
King Ulray and Lord Grenitar, impatient for the walls to be cleared of gargoyles, bounded up the stairs, the giant tiger roaring at a fevered pitch the whole way. Gargoyles along that section of the outer wall took one look at the massive jaws of Grenitar, the lord of tigers, and scattered.
So many gargoyles were retreating that the stairways couldn’t accommodate them all. Some were shoved aside falling to the courtyard below, arms and legs flailing. Long ago, gargoyles had become too large and heavy for their wings to be of any use, so they fell and fell hard. Even their screams couldn’t save them from the sharp pain of landing, followed by a long sleep or an endless hell, the winged apes weren’t sure which, gargoyle folklore being deficient of any thoughts about an afterlife.
Showing no mercy, Chen directed her tiger toward the location of yet another hidden lever. After the big cat smashed through the stone slab covering it, the black leather panther wrapped the attached chain around the tiger’s neck, who quickly took a powerful leap forward. Dozens more razor-sharp spears shot up through the walkway floor. Gargoyles began screaming anew, fearsome wailing filling the nighttime air.
As the warrior women and tigers wreaked havoc on the terrified winged apes, Tenacity and her village women were lowering the giant levers with the spears dropping back inside the walls. These women had lived for all of their lives under the rule of the gruesome winged apes who were lying dead or dying along the length of the walkway. Unsheathing their swords, the women made quick work of these foul creatures, then tossed the corpses off the wall onto the stone pavement below.
Some mortally wounded gargoyles were “inadvertently” left alive allowing the village women to more fully enjoy the winged apes’ long drop to a certain death shouting and screaming the whole way down. Those gargoyles who weren’t mortally wounded discovered the village women were all too willing to make up for the spears’ negligence. None got off the walkway alive.
Yet Chen’s fierce warrior women were creating the greatest amount of terror, at least until Jewel and Flame, whom the black leather panther had held in reserve, arrived on the scene. Like hawks hurtling down from the nighttime sky, Flame, with Jewel lying on her back, was shooting fireballs at the enemy from her outstretched palms while Jewel absorbed Flame’s heat into her own body transforming it into thin, red beams which she began firing from her eyes.
This masterstroke of strategy from Chen, the goddess of war, was more than the gargoyles could endure and a general panic ensued. Now desperate for a way out, the winged apes ran inside the castle, into the presence of the old wizard whose spirit filled the living stones. And the castle smiled.
Chapter 28
Along the mountain trail, approaching the sixth, and final, fortification.
“Wow, will you look at that? It’s three times the size of the first one,” Captain Jeriana said feeling both surprise and apprehension.
“Yes, but fortifications four and five were almost completely abandoned by the time we got into position with our catapults,” Lt. Nantaric said. “Maybe the same will be true here.”
Even though far from being within catapult range, this last impediment to their progress was looming large in the darkness. On its right was a nearly vertical mountain wall of barren rock. On the left was a sheer cliff dropping off into a deep ravine. In the middle, and barring the trail, was a massive wall that was high, thick and imposing.
When Lord Pensgraft, Captain Jeriana, Lt. Nantaric, General Tark and their 3,000 warriors got closer to the fortification, there off in the distance and on the other side of the chasm was Dominion Castle, a fortress so vast that its well-lit façade was clearly visible in spite of the darkness engulfing the mountain. Guarding the front entrance were White Angel 19, Zorya and Baelfire, three companions who together were known as the Trinity of Light. Positioning themselves around the
Trinity and brandishing Swords of Fire were the other White Angels.
Peering far ahead, Lord Pensgraft could see a stone bridge spanning the great ravine and providing access to Dominion Castle, to the very entrance protected by his daughter. The White Angels are impressive, the giant warrior thought, but that might not keep the youngest angel, the one who’s Aerylln’s actual age, from becoming overwhelmed.
Lord Pensgraft recalled that, during a previous battle with Balzekior, his daughter had collapsed from exhaustion while defending the entrance to Chen’s own Crystal Castle. Then, as now, Aerylln had defended a castle with no front gates, its previous owner, Chen’s Aunt Glenitant, being so highly confident of her power as to feel no need of them. Fear and anxiety began creeping into Lord Pensgraft’s heart, not for himself but for Aerylln.
Next, his thoughts turned to Aerylln’s half-sister, Dylancia, and the giant warrior recalled how he and Chen, not long ago, had stormed Firecrest Castle, the haven of Lord Ridgewood’s cutthroat band of murderers and thieves in an attempt to rescue their baby. Back then, Balzekior and Swarenth had been involved as well.
Now, like a bad dream, one of his children was in danger again. However, even though he wanted to scream in frustration and rage, the giant warrior, with a great effort, kept his temper under control. Lord Pensgraft was tired of Swarenth and Balzekior threatening his family, but as much as he wanted to yield to the violent anger building inside of him, he knew it was vital to stay calm and keep his wits about him.
I guess that’s all part of maturity, Lord Pensgraft thought, sighing in exasperation for life had seemed so much simpler when he was young. Then he’d often plunged headlong into danger, sometimes even seeking it, while trusting his strength and his sword to bring him victory. But things were different now. He was happily married with two daughters, one of whom was in great peril.
Lord Pensgraft thought, There was a time when risking my own neck foolishly might have seemed exciting, but such behavior has no place in the life of a responsible husband and father.
And now, as he was peering into the darkness at Dominion Castle, one thing stood out above all else. Turning to Captain Jeriana, he said, “Gargoyles f
rom the other five fortifications have retreated to this one. There must be thousands of them behind that wall in front of us.”
“By my estimate, I’d say we’re facing over 2,000 winged apes, and there’s no place left for them to retreat,” Captain Jeriana said.
Silently, Lord Pensgraft looked off in the distance at Dominion Castle’s front entrance.
“That is, except across the bridge leading into the castle,” Captain Jeriana added understanding the dilemma facin this married man and father of two.
“Look who’s guarding the entrance,” Lord Pensgraft said, stating the obvious.
“Your daughter, all eleven of her,” Captain Jeriana answered a little mystified, never having seen anyone’s child multiply into future versions of herself.
“But whether as one White Angel or eleven, Aerylln can’t possibly oppose thousands of gargoyles streaming across the bridge, especially when the gargoyles have no other avenue of escape. Thousands of terrified winged apes desperate to avoid their own destruction will be running right for her. She’ll be the only thing standing in the way of their survival, and that’s not good, at least not for her.”
“No, my lord.”
“What am I supposed to do? If we attack this fortification, we’ll be endangering Aerylln.”
Captain Jeriana remained silent. This was a personal dilemma no one could solve for the giant warrior. On the one hand, if they were to have any hope of reaching the castle and helping King Tarlen, the fortification must be taken. But the very action necessary to save the kingdom might cost this parent the life of his child.
What would I do if it were my child’s life at stake here? Captain Jeriana asked herself.
“What am I to do?” Lord Pensgraft asked again, his eyes searching the warrior woman’s eyes for a solution.
This is not my child, Captain Jeriana thought, thus my duty is to advise this man from a military standpoint not a personal one. The burden is on him, and him alone, as to what choice he actually makes.
“We must attack the fortification, my lord,” she managed to get out, horrified that she might have just sentenced his daughter to death.
Lord Pensgraft looked around wild-eyed, then took a deep breath and shouted, “General Tark!”
After galloping forward from the main column of warriors, the general reined his horse in hard, bowed his head to his master and asked, “Yes, my lord?”
“I want Captain Jeriana, Lt. Nantaric and you to hear me and hear me well,” Lord Pensgraft said with a menacing tone in his voice.
“Yes, my lord?” they all asked at once, feeling the tremendous force of this giant warrior’s will power.
“Gargoyles will not be permitted to retreat across the bridge. We will prevent that from happening at all costs.”
“Yes, my lord,” they all agreed seeing Lord Pensgraft’s legendary temper almost ready to spin out of control. This, they realized, was a man whose sanity was hanging by a very thin thread.
“General Tark, I want 200 warriors with body-length shields to be out in front when we approach the fortification. I want them to form a protective wall.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Captain Jeriana, I want 50 of your women, with their bows, prepared to clear the fortification’s walls, especially of enemy archers. General Tark’s shields will provide you with cover.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Lt. Nantaric, you and your men will implement King Ulray’s battle plan for this fortification.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“By now, the gargoyles will be expecting us to attack from behind using a tunnel to get around to their rear.”
“I hope so, my lord,” Lt. Nantaric said.
“So do I,” Captain Jeriana agreed. “This change in strategy should confuse them.”
Sharing none of their hope or optimism, Lord Pensgraft sternly repeated a warning, “Hear me well, the three of you.”
“Yes, my lord?” they all said holding their breath unsure of what this giant warrior might do next.
“Do not fail me.”
General Tark, Captain Jeriana and Lt. Nantaric instantly understood the implied threat. If Lord Pensgraft’s daughter died, they might well be joining her in the next life sooner than expected. Yet they felt no resentment. After all, what else could a dedicated, protective, determined father say when his family’s well-being was at stake? Expecting a parent to be rational at such times was itself irrational. Anticipating the death of one’s child could make any parent go over the edge.
“All right, get your warriors into position and storm this fortification,” Lord Pensgraft commanded.
General Tark galloped back to the main body of warriors. Upon reaching his eldest son, Kirnochak, he said, “Get me 200 of the best warriors we have. Be sure they’re outfitted with full-length shields.”
“Yes, father,” Kirnochak said wanting to ask if there was any news about Marcheto but realizing now was not the time. However, he knew Marcheto would be on his father’s mind as well. The young wizard was General Tark’s son and Kirnochak’s youngest brother.
After the preparations were made, the army proceeded up the mountain trail and soon the fortification was within range of its catapults. Kirnochak ran ahead with his 200 warriors. The first row knelt, holding their shields side by side in an impenetrable line. The second row of warriors held their shields up, the lower part overlapping the first row of shields and the upper section being tilted back forming a partial roof. Captain Jeriana and her archers moved into position.
“Let’s clear the fortification’s front wall,” the leader of the warrior women shouted. Almost immediately, 50 arrows were launched and flying through the air, striking their intended targets with uncanny accuracy.
The gargoyles on the walkway near the top of the fortification’s front wall had never seen such shooting before, nor would they again, for any winged apes taking so much as a glimpse at Captain Jeriana’s archers were prime targets. Most fell dead as soon as they peeked out from behind the battlements exposing themselves. An instant was all it took, for the warrior women archers had received training from Chen personally, meaning they were expected to reach nearly impossible standards or be dismissed.
On this night, her pupils were excelling at their craft with gargoyles dropping at a gratifying rate. Chen would have been proud.
Lt. Nantaric and King Tarlen’s personal guards ran into position directly behind the archers and drew their weapons of choice, in this case picks and shovels, and began digging furiously.
When they had gone down about two feet, the men uncovered a wide, square slab of rock with four metal handles. After lifting the stone lid and setting it aside, they discovered a stairway leading to an underground tunnel. Taking torches and dozens of long ropes with them, they ran the length of the tunnel dragging the ropes behind them, ending up directly under the left half of the fortification, the half next to a sheer cliff.
The ground had been dug out from under this half of the fortification’s front wall making a long second tunnel strikingly different from the first. One, the floor dropped at a 45-degree angle creating a very steep hill pointing directly at the deep ravine on the outside. And two, with the wall on that far end being completely vertical and with the horizontal ceiling running parallel with the base of the fortification above, the second tunnel was in the shape of a huge triangle.
Keeping this half of the fortification from collapsing were dozens of thick wooden posts, each of which had been stained with several coats of preservative and raised off the slanted dirt floor on a stone base. The posts at the deepest part of the triangle were the tallest, getting progressively shorter going up the steep hill.
Being careful not to slip and fall, Lt. Nantaric and his warriors made their way down the hill to the bottom, along the way shinnying up each post and tying a rope around it near the ceiling, directly below the fortification’s foundation. Then, after returning to the top of the hill, the warriors headed back throug
h the first tunnel towards the exit feeling relieved to be on a level floor once more.
“What do you make of the second tunnel’s steep floor?” one member of the king’s personal guard asked Lt. Nantaric as they ran.
“You mean why does it slant dramatically to the left, towards the ravine?”
“Yes, that’s a very steep incline. I had a hard time keeping my balance.”
“Wait till you see what happens when we dislodge those support posts,” the lieutenant said smiling.
“Well, I know the entire left half of the fortification will be dropping down into the ground.”
“It’ll be dropping a whole lot farther than that,” Lt. Nantaric laughed.
After the members of King Tarlen’s personal guard had climbed up the stairway to the exit and emerged from the mouth of the first tunnel, they attached the ends of the ropes to the saddle pommels of an equal number of very powerful warhorses. The ropes now reached from the support posts in the second tunnel’s triangle, along the floor of the first tunnel, up the stairs, through the hole in the ground and along the mountain trail to the horses.
“Walk the horses back down the trail a little and stretch the ropes taut,” Lt. Nantaric told his men. After that was done, he shouted, “Pull!”
The giant warhorses leaned forward digging in their hooves and straining against the thick ropes. Then, after just two or three steps, all the support posts were yanked from under the left half of the fortification setting into motion an incredible series of occurrences.
To begin with, the left half of the fortification fell 15 feet below the surface with one side, the side next to the front gates, landing on the very top of the underground hill stopping it cold. But most of the wall just kept falling and came crashing down on the steep incline, almost flipping off the cliff from the force of its own momentum.
