Maiden's Saber

by Marion Faith St. James

  There is no going up—only down. The underside of the wide wing will catch and hold the updrafts of air. The steering will allow the occupants to maneuver away from any large objects and not crash into it.”

  The first flying machine is done and checked twice for completeness. The men move on to the next. By early morning, six of the birdlike crafts are ready. Apikala sees that Amari has gone back to sleep. He wakes Mimna, who in turn awakens the others. “Come my adventurers, it is time to soar.”

  Wiping the sleep from their eyes and stretching to work out cramped muscles, they gather around one of the crafts as Apikala gives them the simple instructions on its use.

  “These devices are designed not to tip over or go straight down. It will be a gradual downward slope. The craft will go about the speed of a man running through an open field. Even if you land poorly, you should be able to walk away without too much damage to yourselves.”

  He takes two cords that are tied to the basket and travel back to the rear of the craft. “These pull ropes are used to steer away from any danger or large objects—like trees and buildings.

  Moreover, since you will be within sight of each other, you can land somewhere together. It is early morning, and the sun will rise shortly. Only the farmers will be about, but they are not looking to the skies, but rather at the soil under their feet and to plows cleaving the ground.”

  Natsha inspects the manmade contraptions spread out on the plateau and counts. “Apikala, there be six of these wondrous machines, and we are two to each, what of the others?”

  “Saw that did you sister?”

  “Not much escapes my attention. How do you think I survived so long down there in Aventine? Until I met Gareth, I was alone and lived by my wits and the writings in my father’s book room. My brother when he was alive would watch each other’s back.

  Here and now, we are seven with you. We are a force that causes our enemies to tremble. Still, if one is not always on guard, even the least thing may cause our downfall.”

  Truk speaks a truth. “If we learn the reach and size of our enemy, then we need not fear a hundred battles.

  Apikala nods at Truk’s words, than answers Natsha. “Well to answer your question. Four flying machines are for us; the other two will be for our escort. “The Black Angels will precede us to the ground below. Since they have done this many times, they will land on a much used flat area and set up a defense perimeter. Two torches will be lit to guide us to them. If we see three or more torches, than there is danger, and we must land somewhere else.”

  As they are talking and touching parts of the flyer, making comments and asking questions, the sound of footsteps can be heard from behind them. Turning the warriors and Apikala sees a pair of large men reach the top of the plateau stairs. They are followed by six equally large men. They fan out and stand waiting—eight in all. They carry neither sword nor bow.

  “Good” Apikala says. “Our launching party is here.”

  “Our what?” Gareth asks.

  “How do you think we can get these things over the edge with people inside the traveling baskets? Once loaded; my eight large friends will pick up the flying machines, take it and their passengers to the plateau rim and give it a toss.”

  “You are kidding?” Gareth asks doubtful of what he just heard.

  “Not really. We found it is the best way. We tried several other ways in the past; like setting them on the edge and shoving. After a few died crashing into the mountain side all the way down, we reasoned, to catch the updrafts and ensure a safer flight, one must be thrown away from the cliff face. The craft will start gliding immediately. Trust me; it is far more dangerous walking about Aventine without a sword in your grip.”

  Gareth is not comfortable having his body thrown out into the air; even in a woven basket attached to a supposed flying machine. He looks at Mimna, who gives him a reassuring nod and smile.

  Amari breaks the tension. “This is wonderful Mimna. A chance to fly without the use of my magic…it drains me so!”

  Mimna nods her head at the Maiden.

  “What” the other warriors ask almost in unison. Only Truk is silently smiling.

  “Oh that’s right my friends. Mimna and Truk know from my past the powers of flight I possess—watch!”

  Raising her hands, she speaks a few ancient words. Her feet leave the ground. She is suspended above the heads of the others. Her body spins several turns with her arms outstretched, then; she slowly descends. Her toes touch softly on the ground, like a leaf on the wind.

  “I had need to do that bit of magic in the past. I remember the times to escape wild animals I did not wish to kill. The poor beasts were following their instinct for food. However, I can only rise a short distance and even a shorter time aloft to maintain that spell. The force to accomplish that feat requires much physical energy.”

  Natsha touches Amari’s arm. “Sister, you never cease to amaze me. Your magic abilities must be endless.”

  “Not endless Natsha. Some spells and enchantments are simple and have no effort on my energy level, but others require great expenditure of my body’s physical strength and mind.”

  Apikala breaks into their talk. “It is time to get ready for flight. Watch my men who are your advanced protection as they leave now!”

  The eight enormous Black Angels go to the first flying machine—four on each side. They lift up the glider to their waists. While holding it thus, this allows two men carrying crossbows and swords to climb inside the contraption. Unlit torches are slung across their backs. The passengers settle in the basket on their knees. The one in back takes hold of the steering ropes.

  The eight men holding the frame from the sides raise their arms. The whole flying machine is lifted off the ground with the men dangling below in the basket. The throwers carry the whole of it to the edge with no visible effort.

  “Strong they are” Dian says while eyeing the bulging arms and wide chests. She turns a little red even in the pre-dawn light when she sees Amari smiling at her.

  “What? Dian says. “I may be a maiden such as you Amari, but I appreciate the bulk of a sturdy man.”

  Amari winks at her.

  When the men carrying the flying machine reach the edge, they stop for a minute, then, walk backwards a few counted paces. With an unheard command, they run to the edge again and heave the craft into the darkness with all their might.

  They stop just short of going over the edge. The craft’s sail catches the updrafts, billows and becomes firm. It glides into the dark sky and is gone in moments. The men walk back without a word and repeat the process with the next pair of Black Angels. They stand ready waiting for Apikala to prepare the first two of Amari’s warriors.

  Apikala eyes the warriors. “As this also depends on weight and balance, I need to pair you up with one another. Gareth is the biggest and Dian the smallest; you will go next. Pick a flying machine and stand ready to climb into the basket. Next, it will be Amari and Truk, then Holl-tu and Natsha. Mimna, you and I will soar together. I can return with my men.”

  “What of those evil ones that wait at the base of your mountains?” Holl-tu asks.

  Apikala with a calm and reassuring voice says. “We know the land about our mountain stronghold for many leagues in every direction. Those evil ones below who wait do not. Once we soar past their picket line, your escape from here will go unnoticed. Even if they are scanning the skies, we are above the clouds for a good measure.

  I am not saying there is no danger, but it will be minimal. Now if everyone is ready to be a bird—stand by your flying machine.”

  The warriors, a little reluctant pick a flyer and stand waiting. The big men take Amari and Truk’s machine first instead of the one holding Gareth and Dian. The dwarf climbs inside and helps Amari get in as the men lift the glider. Truk grabs the steering ropes, leaving Amari free to watch and guide their descent.

  Just as before, the flying machine is launched off the plateau. Amari and Truk grab the
sides of the basket as they are thrown a little backward from the force of the throw.

  The men working with great speed and strength, the remaining three gliders are hurled into the night and sail in a gradual downward spiral. Only the joyous shout from Amari can be heard in the dark. By now, the morning sun is cresting the mountains to the east.

  Mimna and Apikala are the last to leave the safety of the mountain stronghold. They can see the other three gliders in front of them in a semi-straight line and glide path. The crafts swing slowly back and forth as if leaves on the wind. The ground is getting closer each minute.

  Apikala shouts over his shoulder to Mimna, “It would appear your warriors have gotten over the fear of flying.”

  The Black Angels in the last craft can see Gareth tugging on the steering line in an effort to keep going straight. It swings left, then right, never coming to a true course or descent.

  Mimna taps her companion on the shoulder, as he is busy with his own steering ropes. “I am afraid our big friend’s strength is working against him. He is over steering and must constantly try to keep it on an even line to the ground.”

  Dian has her hands in the air as if to catch the clouds they are passing through. For a brief moment, all the crafts disappear from each other. Once below the cloud cover, they are visible again. Only Natsha and Holl-tu’s craft is a little off course, but joins the group rather quickly with Natsha doing the steering…a big smile across her face.

  Up ahead in Amari’s flying machine, the rest of the travelers can see her pointing ahead. In the distance, the faint glow of torches can be seen. As they steer in that direction, it is plain that only two are burning—safe to land.

  Just then, Amari looks to the clouds at her right as something has attracted her attention.

  From within the puffy white mists comes a loud screech. It is repeated several times and then nothing. Heads in all the flying machines lean out to try to look upward from under the billowing canvas sails. The large glider over their heads hinders them from looking directly above. The dense clouds mask whatever it is from view.

  Mimna grabs Apikala’s arm. “A very strange sound—what do you think it was?”

  “Not sure! I have flown many times and have not heard such a sound. It could be a large bird, and it does not like us intruding into its skies.” Scanning all around, he adds. “Whatever made the sound appears to be gone now.”

  The words hardly left Apikala’s lips when the screech returns; this time louder and much closer. Something big passes overhead and disturbs the calm air. Its shadow can be seen on the sail from those below in the traveling baskets.

  Even though the sun is starting to rise, it is difficult to make out what it is as it moved fast. I first thought it was another flying machine launched from the Skye plateau.

  Below, and to the front of our travel, we can just make out the men standing there on the ground waving the torches to guide us in.

  All of a sudden, several flaming arrows shot from those men pass by the gliders. Mimna and Apikala look behind and see the reason for the arrows and the ear-piercing screeches.

  With wings fully extended and claws to the fore is a gray dragon. Apikala pulls hard on the rope in an effort to steer away from the killing strike. The turn is too slow.

  Those sharp talons will make short work of the cloth-covered gliders. He reaches beyond the notched board where the steering cords are set in. Snaking out the rope so the stabilizing knots meant to lessen the chances of a sudden turn and flipping over are free. He pulls hard with a panic turn he has practiced, but never had to use before.

  None too soon as the flying lizard swings past them, claws scratching at the air where the flying machine was a moment ago.

  The winged terror continues on to the next craft with Natsha and Holl-tu. It gives a loud screech heralding an attack and tries to bite at the canvas.

  More flaming arrows arrive from the Black Angels on the ground. Several strike and imbed in the dragon’s leathery wings, while others just bounce off the scaled hide.

  Natsha hands the ropes to Holl-tu. Her hands now free she sends her own arrows at the winged beast. As she is much closer to it than the rest, the distance is short and the bolts have much more force. Two strike the dragon’s neck just below the eye. It screams an unearthly sound and veers off.

  While the nightmarish beast banks to the left, it tries pawing at the shafts with a gigantic claw. The arrows are too small for the large talons to grasp. It only succeeds in driving the bolts deeper. Giving up trying to rid itself of the steel arrows, the beast sets his blazing red eyes on the gliders.

  We watch as it makes a wide circle looking for a weak spot in the line of gliders in order to attack again.

  Just them, the dragon pulls his wings up and stops in mid-flight. Flapping hard, it remains stationary in the sky. The beast is confused as dozens upon dozens of flying machines fill the sky. The newly arrived winged machines crisscross each other, as some go higher, others diving straight down toward the earth. Several gliders join in a formation and fly right at the dragon—seemly attacking.

  “That should hold the big beast at bay,” Holl-tu says while waving his hands at the sky surrounding the flying machines. “That dumb lizard does not know which ones he was after in the first place.”

  The dragon is only confused for a moment. His attack is renewed on the flying machine carry Natsha and Holl-tu.

  By now, Amari and Truk have landed. The sudden stop causes the basket to plow into the ground and pitch the glider over their heads to fall forward and dig into the soft earth. The stop is abrupt and throws the two warriors from the carrier. It was not hard enough to cause injury.

  Amari gets to her feet, pulls out Katana and points it at the dragon as it circles her friends, ready to attack. She speaks ancient words to the magic blade, a fiery red light issues along its length and soars skyward toward the dragon. It strikes the scaled beast at the head. Its wings fold up; the head droops on the long neck as it plummets to earth. It crashes into the trees not far from where Amari stands.

  After tense minutes, the other flying machines land safely with their passengers.

  They all gather and clasp each other on the shoulders.

  “Wizard,” says Gareth. “Are you the one to thank for distracting the flying mouth of teeth and claws?”

  “It was nothing Gareth. I simple made an illusion based on our own crafts. They are mirror images that soared with us in the skies. For that beast to find the real flying machines with us in them would have been sheer chance.”

  Gareth gives the tall sorcerer a hug. “It would appear that it chanced on you and Natsha before the Maiden brought it down.”

  The Wizard scratches his bearded face. “It did start another attack aimed at us.”

  Dian looks in the direction where the dragon went down. “I thought all the dragons perished ages ago? I have never seen one before—it does cause one to tremble.”

  Amari asks Natsha. “You are well-read in tales and history of Aventine. Should any of these flying creatures still exist?”

  “I myself, save for today, have never seen anything like it. Of course, I am excluding the skeleton we saw rotting in the Dragon’s Grave. That one had to be centuries old. Besides the one that tried to attack us today, I have only seen drawings on parchments and paintings.

  I doubt anyone living today was around to see the last of these beasts when they were killed for their teeth and hides.” Natsha thinks for a moment and continues. “At one time, there were many different species of flying and non-flying reptiles. I read some possessed magic and could communicate with their minds to humans.

  The Druids used them like horses, and could speak with some inner voice, and they had a measure of control over the beast.”

  “I would think the beast would rather eat the druid than become its slave.” Dian says smiling.

  “This one did not have a rider.” Natsha adds. “Nor did it have the rune markings of a Druid tattooed a
cross its wings as was the normal custom.”

  “Well, we all saw it, and heard the screams. It attacked us out of the blue.” Its attack on our rear and the way it hovered looking for us in Holl-tu’s hundreds of magic flying ships is a sign of intelligent.” Mimna says.

  Gareth starts to walk in the direction of where the dragon crashed through the trees.

  “Where are you going big man?” Apikala asks.

  “I have a mind to see this thing close up. The arrows Natsha put into its neck probably killed it. If it lives, Helixx will shorten the lizard’s life.”

  Amari closes her eyes and reaches out with her abilities. “No Gareth, it is not dead, but injured badly. We must see to it.”

  “What? You really want to help it?”

  “I can sense the beast’s mind. It thought the flying machines were others of its kind and had captured us. It was not trying to kill, but help. Why it would come to our supposed rescue remains to be seen? Come, we must hurry as it thrashing about in the brush is only driving our sister’s darts deeper into its neck.”

  The warriors move quickly through the brush to where the beast fell.

  Apikala speaks to the soldiers. “Start breaking down the flying machines. We will return shortly.” He runs to catch up with the others.

  As the men and women move closer, they hear the dragon’s repeated roars, and the snapping of small trees, as it sought to escape.

  The warriors fan out in a semi-circle as they near the dragon. They can see it now as the sun is a full hour in the sky. It is gray, scaled, and big. The beast either caught sight, or scent of the approaching humans. Flared nostrils emit puffs of hot smoke in the cool air. A spiked tail is busy turning the trees around it into splinters.

  Amari in the center of the half-circle puts her arms to the front of her in a gesture of submission and a sign of no threat. Katana still rests in it scabbard.

  Unlike Gareth with Helixx held in front ready to do battle. “Brother,” Amari says. “Return your blade to it sheath.” She looks to the others. “All of you—lower your weapons.”