“Do you wish to withdraw your blade from this battle?” The Maiden asks with concern in her eyes.
“No, my battles are yours, and I will not turn a back to any fight. You are right of course sister. I just wish there were another way not to put us in mortal danger. I am not saying I lack in courage, but I have a little fear. Something has been troubling me ever since our time at the Elf’s tree where we discovered Fin. I have the terrible fear that one of us is about to join their kin in the next realm.”
“We all fear something Dian.”
“What—you fear as well?”
“Not fear as you feel, but dread that our quest will come to an end before this land is rid of all those who threaten it. It is that which drives me forward. Our cause is just. That is more powerful than the evil we face.”
“Your words are true Maiden, but what of the others,” as she glances at each one standing there. I know that they and I swore allegiance to you, but what if one of them was about to die. Should we not let them know and give each choice to continue or leave?”
“My sister…is your vision so great you need to warn them of what may happen?”
“Yes Amari, it does!”
“Then speak you shall. Warriors gather to me.” Amari says motioning to the others.
The warrior’s circle is formed.
“Brothers and sisters, Dian has a vision she wishes of a telling.
Everyone’s head turns in Dian’s direction.
Dian looks into each pair of eyes before speaking. “This premonition came to me the day we found Fin. You all remember the twisted tree and our wounded ally. During our sleep time, I held a dread one of us was going to die in an upcoming confrontation. It may be even this battle.
I do not know which of us will be visiting our ancestors, only the way of death will be horrible. The feeling has not left me from that time, even until now. Amari and I talked of this, and she said to let you each in their own accord decide to stay or leave. I am sorry to tell of this, but my spirit troubles me so, and I knew it must be told.”
“Are you leaving then?” Natsha asks Dian.
“No—I stand and fight. We quest together. I needed to share my fears. Now that I voice it aloud, it sounds foolish. Forgive me warriors.
Amari speaks as well; “I believe prophesy is what we together as one will make of it.
The others listen intently. It is the least of them who speaks first. “My life was spared because of you warriors. My fate was destined to join you to the end. My sword arm is to remain.
The rest all nod in agreement.
Gareth takes Dian’s hand. “You saved Natsha from the sea beast, for that will my life be protecting you as well as the others. We not only fight for the Maiden, but the light that must outshine the darkness. Hell, we all should be dead already. If it be I who falls in a fight, then it will be in battle with many enemies my saber will cleave. When I am engaged sword against sword in combat with my enemies, a warrior's concern is to vanquish the one standing with blade raised against him or her.”
“Spoken like a true warrior Gareth,” she says. “I was fearful that once you knew death is following one of us for certain, then you may disband and give up the fight.”
“Never,” Natsha says.
“Not us,” voices Mimna and Truk.
“We are with you to the end says Holl-tu and Fin together.”
“Well then Dian,” says Amari. “You have your answer. Feel better about your vision?”
“Not about the vision. However, knowing that my companions are together to the end does lessen the feeling of dread. We all will depart this life one day. It might as well be for a worthy cause.”
After Amari blesses everyone, she gives her wishes. If you possess magic or enchantments, do not use it, Urel can sense it. Keep your Kcaj in their scabbards. If they are pulled to fight, Pyrestorm will sense them. If the Fire Sword senses, then Urel will know we are near.”
Taking a long flower from a bush at the side of the road, the Maiden hangs it in an overhanging tree branch. “Once those who follow Urel are massed here, begin your barrage. May all your shafts be true to the target?”
They all go to their appointed places of hiding—except Amari and Turk. They sit down in the middle of the road several dozen meters back toward the castle, but within sight of the others.
It has been four days of waiting before someone approaches. Fin has elected himself to travel down the road to the lower valley to wait and watch. He comes running back up the road visibly out of breath. He motions to those hidden among the trees that there are others coming. He reaches Amari and Truk’s position short of breath. “Myyy sssist, sister!”
“Catch your breath small one.”
After what seems like many minutes, the elf is able to regain his breathing. “Maiden, men approach. Not soldiers, but very big men with weapons. They have with them large rams to batter down the castle walls.”
“Did you see who is leading them?”
“No, only these ragged men in battle gear and helmets with a winged serpent upon it.”
“Shadow Clan,” Amari whispers.
“Who and what is this Shadow Clan?” Truk asks.
“Shadow Clan—they are the slaves to the Druids. We came across them many years ago brother. Do you not remember them?”
“The name alludes me Maiden.”
Amari thinks about her sister Urel. “I had always thought my sister had aligned herself with the Druids and their minions. Now it is assured.”
“There is more sister. They have men on their flanks traveling the woods on either side of the road. I saw at least two of what you call Shadow Clan on the left, stumbling through the brush, making no move to conceal themselves.
Amari waves to Dian standing off to her side.
She joins the Maiden quickly.
“Dian, there are flankers in the woods paralleling the road. You need to go down past Gareth and take care of them before they get near. Tell Gareth and Mimna what is coming.”
Fin stands tall. “I will warn Natsha and Holl-tu and slay those that think to get past us.
“Are you sure little one? You said they are big!”
“I will shorten them.” He smiles and runs off into the brush to warn his friends.
Dian crosses the road to where Gareth and Mimna lay in wait.
She whispers, “Gareth, you and Mimna must be vigilant, there are men traveling the wood alone the road. I go to halt their advance.”
Gareth nods his head and gives Dian a reassuring smile. Normally, he would be the one to stop those that sneak through the brush, but Dian has proven herself many times. Still, he worries of his warrior sister, but he must remain here with Mimna if this surprise attack is to work.
The one who now holds the Water Saber moves through the trees. She is silent as a butterfly while gliding through the forest.
Fin has alerted Natsha and Holl-tu and has already positioned himself further down the path. He has found a spot where the enemy must walk in order to escape the brambles and briar. He does not have to wait long as voices and the sound of stamping feet can be heard.
“These fools are making this too easy for me. They make no effort to be quiet. Their arrogance will be their downfall!”
Crouching in a large Elderberry bush, he waits. His small size and the color of his gray-green tunic make him almost invisible.
The large minions of evil come into view, each passing on either side of the berry bush. Fin lashes out with his sharp blade and neatly slices the leg of one man. The wounded enemy drops to the ground writhing in pain. The other foe rounds the bush and sees his companion trying to sit up while holding a bleeding and nearly severed leg.
He goes into a defensive position and looks all around for their attackers. His scanning is outward and not down. He does not expect an assailant that only comes to his knee. He screams as an unseen foe stabs him in the stomach under the armor.
He looks to his feet while bending over
in pain, and sees a smiling elf with blood dripping from a small sword. Before the man can stand upright and bring his sword up, the elf drives the sword into the clansman’s throat. Clutching his neck, he drops to the ground, his lifeblood wetting the soil. Not waiting, Fin has dispatched the other in the same way.
He stands over the two to make sure they are silenced for good.
Before he can go back to his friends, Fin feels a sharpness in his back. He looks down and sees a knife point sticking from his chest. He is lifted from the ground and thrown into the brush. While tumbling through the air, he sees his killer, as she wipes her small knife across the tunic of the man the elf killed moments ago…“Urel!”
Lying in a thicket, Fin tries to yell to the others, but there is no breath in his lungs. His eyes go dark as the elfish spirit leaves the little warrior.
Urel, instead of traveling with the Shadow Clan on the road, is slinking through the woods just behind two of her flankers. Wary others may lie in wait; she reaches out with her mind. She senses Amari is somewhere close. Others touch her awareness as she continues through the woods toward the castle.
A hooded form steps from behind a tree. His bow already with an arrow notched, stands there unwavering. “Yield evil one!”
As she reaches for her sword, the form sends a shaft at her heart. It never reaches her as the arrow stops in mid-flight and drops to the ground. He steps behind the tree and comes around the other side; bow again raised.
Urel raises her sword, mouths a few words and a fireball is hurled toward the hooded figure. It passes through the form without the slightest indication of slowing. She sends several more at him, but to no avail.
“So wizard, you are to believe your magic is stronger than mine?”
Holl-tu knowing what she is saying is true detaches from another tree and tries to run to warn the others. He does not get very far before being lifted into the air and sent sailing over the trees.
Urel smiles at the thought of her sister sending a foolish elf and a feeble wizard to slay me. She must truly be unwise to think I can be taken so easily.”
“Hold evil one” comes a voice from her left.
Spinning, Urel faces another woman with sword raised. It is not Amari, as she would have thought, but a thief by the look of her.
“So, you wish to test me—good! I would think my sister Amari would face me rather than sending elves and weaklings to do battle.” Tired of this, Urel raises her saber and sends a bright fireball at the woman’s head. It cleaves before reaching her and passes to either side. Surprised at this, she sends another and another, all with the same results.
“Who are you?”
Natsha is surprised of the fireballs not touching her. She wonders if Amari somehow has put a spell to protect. “I am Natsha Mod-gin, daughter to the Clan of Thieves, now warrior sister to the Maiden Amari. Do you yield?”
“Foolish girl, do you think to cross blades with me? Your time on this orb is at its end. Stand aside and let me pass, or be swept away. I have a sister to kill.”
Natsha points her sword at Urel. “You will not go further. I have given my life and sword in service to defeating the darkness you call friend. The stink of evil is all around you, as blackness courses through your veins. I may die this day, but I will have a place in the next realm with other warriors of truth.”
The evil witch angered by the words of a peasant, rushes forward swinging her saber like a windmill. She strikes hard against Natsha’s raised blade. The resounding clang can be heard throughout the forest.
Natsha using all the skill and training she can bring to bear parries blow after blow with her sword. Small bits of metal fly away from the warrior’s blade with the constant pounding of Urel’s enchanted saber. Natsha realizes it will not be long before her sword shatters. Even though her hand and arm sting from the strikes against her blade, she also knows the witch is holding back. It is if Urel thinks Natsha can be easily defeated, so the full force of her Kcaj is not needed.
Alas, no others can come to Natsha’s aid as she can hear the din of battle echoing through the woods. Her companions have engaged the main body of the Shadow Clan along the castle road.
Urel steps back two-steps for a brief moment and says. “It would appear my men have given to battle against your feeble warriors. Do not agonize the fight will be over soon. None can withstand my undefeatable Clan.”
Natsha changes sword hands. She pulls her dirk from her belt as she speaks. “Evil one, you hold Pyrestorm, of which my steel will not endure. As for your mighty Clan; they face the four blades of the Kcaj.”
“What? All the sabers of the Kcaj Pentadiene are here! You lie imprudent girl. Only my sister’s Katana is held. The others are lost or hidden. Once I have defeated Amari, her blade will be mine as well.”
“With all the evil powers you possess witch…I would have thought you knew the Kcaj fight this day for good against your darkness.”
Urel tires of the words spewing from this one’s lying mouth. “You are a mere mortal and you will not live out this day.”
Natsha with strength waning and knowing her death is close prays to the gods to take her quickly. Gathering what strength, she has left, rushes Urel and shouts. “Hold your tongue daughter of the shade. Prepare to meet your ancestors in the fires of hell.”
Urel swings at Natsha as blade upon blade clash. Sparks fly with each meeting of their swords. The Fire Sword is unscathed, but Natsha’s sword has developed several nicks and cracks.
Urel sees this and swings all the harder. She has not used magic, as it would be wasted on a mortal woman.
Natsha is having trouble holding her own defense.
Urel strikes hard at where Natsha’s sword blade joins the hilt. The damaged weapon is sent flying from Natsha’s stinging hand. It turns end over end until the point strikes a nearby oak. It quivers there as if dying.
Natsha holds her dirk up in front of Urel’s face.
“So woman—you are defiant to the end. You are brave, but it will avail naught.” Urel raises her sword high and brings it down aiming for Natsha’s head. Natsha still not willing to die without fighting against this evil manages to duck to the side while slicing the downward motion of Urel’s arm.
Urel screams more of the insult this thief drew blood than the wound itself. She waves her hand at the foe before her…Natsha is frozen in place. “Now, you have wasted too much of my time. Join those who have gone on before you.”
Natsha cannot move or even blink as Urel raises her sword to deal the death blow. On the downward stroke, the enchanted weapon glows brightly red and fiery flames travel from the saber onto Urel’s hand and up her arm—burning her. In pain, she drops the saber and stares at it in disbelief as it lies on the ground. “What magic is this? Pyrestorm only serves me!”
Natsha now free of the spell reaches for the still burning blade.
Urel holds a burnt hand in disbelief that her saber attacked her. “You cannot possess this enchanted blade feeble woman. You have no magic in you. The fire will consume you.”
“Of what you say may be true, but I have what you do not. I fight for truth and the way of the light. I serve to destroy evil, as does the Fire Sword. What your arrogance hides from you is I have a portion of the Katana’s essence within me…given by Amari. The Fire Sword knows this.”
Urel eyes widen at the words spoken to her. “The blade may have forsaken me, but I have powers you know nothing of.” Using her uninjured hand, she creates a ball of fire and hurls it at Natsha.
The flame of death never reaches the warrior as it is absorbed by the Fire Sword lying on the ground between them.
Natsha shakes her head and drops her small knife. “Amari once told me the only reason the Pyrestorm allows you be its master, as it had chosen you before you followed the way of darkness. If what I believe is true, this mighty blade has chosen another.”
Natsha does not hesitate as her hand closes about the hilt. She lifts the saber into the air. A rene
wed strength flows from the enchanted sword into her body. It is as if the blade controls her movements. She points it at the evil witch.
Urel screams as her body is lifted into the air and bursts into red hot flames. The form of Urel hovers suspended for many minutes until it is completely consumed. The terrible screams of death are heard long after she has died. Not even ash is left to tell of her passing.
Natsha brings the glowing blade close and touches her forehead. She could feel the thoughts pass between them. “You have returned Urel’s body to the land and her soul to burn for eternity in the underworld. Yours was the punishment of all the years she brought darkness to Aventine and its people.”
Natsha is jolted back to reality, as she hears the battle still raging along the road. The flames on the Fire Sword dispel as she slips it into the scabbard which once held her broken sword. She gathers her crossbow and runs toward the road to rejoin her companions.
Bursting from the wood, it only takes a few moments to apprise what is before her. A score of the Clan lay upon the ground either dead or dying. Mimna and Gareth are fighting back to back against a full dozen men. Dian is lying in the road with an arrow in her middle. She is attempting to pull it out.
Four of the Shadow warriors are facing Amari and attempting to drive her toward the trees as they swing their maces dangerously close to her head. The Maiden is not using any magic as all her attention is focused on deflecting the sword thrusts of her attackers.
Truk has fallen as well, but still on his knees swinging the Wind Sword.
Running into the midst of battle with crossbow raised, Natsha sends arrows into the heads of those who threatened Truk. The enemy drop quickly.
Turning, she sends several arrows into the backs of those attacking Amari. With no more of the clan attacking her, the Maiden drops to her knees exhausted. The last of the enemy is slain by Gareth and Mimna.
Gareth sees the Maiden is winded, but otherwise not injured. Her once white warrior’s dress is now covered with the blood of battle. Gareth rushes to Truk’s side, while Mimna goes to Dian, who has stopped moving. Mimna puts her head to Dian’s chest and listens.
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