“It wasn’t a fight, it was a slaughter. You don’t remember anything?”
Flare just shook his head.
Atock looked concerned, but changed the subject instead. “We had better get back inside the fort and see to the gates. They won’t attack again until tomorrow, I think.”
Flare blinked in surprise, “Back to the fort,” he repeated in confusion. Only then did he notice that they were outside the western wall, with the dead and dying piled high.
Atock noticed Flare's confusion, “Some were killed by the giant's retreat but the rest we killed. We followed you through the gates, but I have never seen such total abandon when fighting. I thought that you were going to be killed several times, but when you were in danger, you simply attacked.”
Flare heard something in Atock's voice that bothered him, was that awe? He slowly walked, more like stumbled, back toward the fort.
The looks of the defenders scared Flare. They were looking at him with respect, doubt, and fear.
The body of Murleen was still lying on the ground. Flare started toward it.
“Flare, I'll take care of Murleen.” Atock said.
“No! I'll handle it.” Flare answered in a commanding tone.
He walked to Murleen’s body. He knelt down and scooped up his lover’s lifeless corpse. He almost cried right then at the way her head lolled. He hugged her to his chest as he walked to the temple. 'I failed you!' Tears welled up in his eyes. Callin's death had seemed like it crushed him, but it did not even begin to compare. He slowly carried her to the temple, ignoring the stares of the soldiers and townspeople alike. He placed her body next to Callin's in the temple crypt, and then he spent the night, beside her.
Aaron met Elona that night as he had promised. She seemed happy to see him, and he was equally pleased to see her. The night before he had been surprised to discover that he actually enjoyed her company and their conversation.
They sat talking and laughing in the moonlight, the fighting a distant memory for now. Perhaps that was all that it was, but it was enough.
After a while, Elona moved closer and kissed Aaron. He seemed surprised but quickly returned the kiss with as much enthusiasm.
Distracted as they were, they didn't notice Dale watching from the shadows of the street.
The next morning was overcast, and the weather seemed to match Flare’s mood. It had been a long sleepless night for him, but he expected the day would be much shorter than the previous night. Once again he didn’t expect to live to see the sunset, and it seemed a comfort that the pain would soon be over.
He arrived at the western gates and surveyed the damage. He had not really paid attention to the gates or walls the day before, and now it was almost with amusement that he observed the damage. The gates were battered and beaten down, having been propped back up by the defenders. The walls weren’t much better; cracked and crumbling from the abuse of the past week.
The other guardians had taken the initiative to gather the soldiers at the gates. The faces of the soldiers had changed so much in just a week; they had gone from innocent young kids to battle weary veterans.
He scanned their faces, and saw their fear. He also saw something new in their faces; he saw their confidence in him. In some of their faces he saw hope. He managed a reassuring smile that he didn’t really feel, hoping to encourage them.
The other guardians approached him in a group.
“Flare, are you okay?” Kara asked him.
Flare managed to smile, “I’m as good as I can be right now.”
A brief moment of awkward silence ensued, finally broken by Philip. “We’re ready. We got the soldiers arrayed around the western gate. I don’t think that they will try to scale the walls. They will probably just come right through the main gate. Don’t you think?”
Flare nodded. “What about the eastern wall?”
“We just have a token force. It’s not enough to defend the wall; just enough to give us warning if an attack comes from that direction.” Philip shrugged. “It was all we could do.”
“You did good. We have done a much better job than could have been expected of us. No matter what happens today, we will be remembered with honor.” Flare said.
“Well spoken.” Derek said quietly.
“Atock and Philip, would you please accompany me to the top of the wall. I want to see the size of the attacking force.” Flare said.
The trio climbed the wall and waited for the attack to come. Not much was said, since nobody much felt like talking. They simply waited.
An hour after sunrise, the attackers came into view. If Flare hadn’t been numb with emotion, he would have been dismayed. Trolls, goblins, giants, mercenaries, and other monsters slowly crossed the plain. They quickly covered the plain, making it look like a sea of invaders.
Flare, Atock, and Philip left the wall. “Look! On top of the temple.” Atock said, pointing to the center of the fort. “What is that?”
Flare looked to where Atock had pointed, and saw a creature resembling a flying reptilian horse descending on top of the temple. On its back was a warrior. The warrior was wearing armor that was all black, but Flare knew who it was. “Prince Zalustus.”
“I think he’s tired of waiting. He wants the fort today.” Atock said quietly.
“Damn, we can’t have him behind us when the fight is going on.” Flare said, looking where Zalustus had disappeared from view. “I’ll go to the temple and try to stop him. You two go to the gates, and lead the battle there.”
Atock and Philip studied Flare quietly. Finally, Atock sighed, “If this is goodbye, then I want you to know that I think you did excellent job. It just wasn’t meant to be. The gods were against us this time.” He extended his hand to Flare.
Flare grasped Atock’s extended arm and then grasped Philip’s arm as well. A deep loneliness settling over him. “Take care,” Flare said. The words almost choking him. “Regardless of what happens, I will see you soon.” He turned and sprinted down the stairs, afraid that the emotion would burst through.
Flare reached the temple and drawing his sword, cautiously entered, opening the door just wide enough to slip quickly through. It was dark inside, but with his elven sight, he could still see. Pausing just inside the doorway, he scanned the foyer, before quietly proceeding to the doors that led into the main chamber of the temple.
When he reached the interior doors, Flare paused briefly, listening for any sounds on the other side of the door. Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump was all he heard, and he momentarily wished that his heart would beat quieter.
Satisfied that nothing was on the other side of the door, Flare used his left arm to slowly push the door open. Entering slowly, he quickly scanned the area for any sign of Zalustus.
Flare slowly moved down the aisle between the rows of pews. No sound penetrated the eerie silence except his breathing.
He paused, and stood perfectly still. Letting the silence roll over him; hoping that he would catch some sound that would tip off where Zalustus was hiding.
Flare continued down the aisle, and passed the altar. He passed through the doorway in the corner behind the altar, and reached the stairway. He had come this way the night before, but then he had taken the downward stairs toward the crypt. This time he would go upward toward the roof.
He paused at the stairs, looking into the darkness below. ‘We will be with you soon, Murleen.’
Taking a deep breath, he climbed the stairs. Even his elven eyes couldn’t penetrate to the top. He reached down toward his left leg, and felt the reassuring coldness of Murleen’s sword strapped to his leg.
Atock and Philip reached the assembled soldiers at the gates. Trestus ran up to them as they approached. “Where’s Flare?”
“Zalustus made it inside the fort. Flare went to stop him from attacking us from the rear.” Philip answered. “Listen. I’ll take the center of the defense. Atock, you take the left and Trestus, you take the right.”
“Derek and Mikela are alre
ady setup in the center.” Trestus answered.
“All right. You lead the defense in the center, with Derek and Mikela. I’ll take the right. Atock, you take the left.”
Atock didn’t even answer, instead he just sprinted off.
Flare reached the top of the stairs, and as quietly as possible, he pushed open the door to the roof. Prince Zalustus was standing on the far side of the roof facing him. He gave up on being quiet, and shoved the door the rest of the way open.
“About time, Flare. I was beginning to think that maybe you wouldn’t come,” Zalustus said. The prince was in plate armor that was completely black. He was not wearing a helmet, and his sword was still in its sheath at his side.
Flare stepped out onto the roof, his sword ready. “Why did you wait so long? I would have thought that you would have entered the battle sooner.”
Zalustus smiled. “I got tired of waiting. Which reminds me, I am really impressed with what you've done. I thought that the fort would have fallen after one or maybe two days. You have really surprised me.”
Zalustus pointed out toward the gates. “The battle is coming soon. At last the fort will fall, and I will be the conqueror of Mul-Dune.”
“And then what? Is Telur next? Do you think that you can actually take the city?”
“In time. But I'm not in a hurry. I will destroy this fort and I will eliminate you.” Zalustus said, pointing toward Flare. “I told you before that one way or the other, you will die.”
Flare moved closer to Zalustus. “Why do you want me dead so badly?”
“We’re in competition, Flare. We are in a race, and you don’t even know it.” Zalustus smiled, “But don’t worry, it won’t be for long.” Zalustus drew his sword, moving forward.
Wave after wave of attackers charged through the gates. The first ones through died immediately, either on the spears planted in the ground or by being shot by the archers. The dead attackers formed a barrier, and slowed down the other attackers that came through the gates behind them.
However, the delay was only temporary as the attackers surged over the bodies of their former comrades.
“Charge,” Philip yelled. The defenders surged forward, engaging the attackers.
Right from the beginning, the fight was intense and gory. The defenders were ready to crumble, but again and again the defenders were rallied by Atock or Philip, and they would push the attackers back.
But time and the sheer numbers were against them.
After repelling a particular nasty offensive by the attackers, Atock paused to catch his breath. The defenders were losing soldiers at an alarming rate and he knew they couldn't continue for much longer. Just then, a soldier ran up to Atock out of breath, “The eastern gate has fallen, and the mercenaries are in the fort.”
Zalustus lunged toward Flare, but Flare deflected his sword. He quickly stepped to his left and slashed at Zalustus’s leg, just barely missing.
Zalustus then raised his sword over his head and brought it down on Flare’s raised sword. Flare’s arm felt like it was going to buckle under the pressure; he quickly kicked Zalustus away.
The two swordsmen sized each other up.
“Give up, Flare. You are beaten! There is no shame in being defeated.” Zalustus said.
“What did you mean when you say we are in a race?” Flare asked.
“What are we, Flare? We are warriors of course, but what else? We are magicians, or we are on the way to being magicians, anyway.”
Flare was confused by the answer, and started to speak, when Zalustus charged.
Zalustus swung, but Flare managed to partially deflect the blow. Flare then quickly jabbed at Zalustus, but his sword merely bounced off the plate armor. He quickly moved in closer to Zalustus, so that Zalustus couldn’t use his sword.
Zalustus raised his left arm to punch Flare, but Flare kicked the knee joint of Zalustus’ armor. He enjoyed the' look of pain on Zalustus' face.
Flare was knocked away from Zalustus, as if by an invisible wall. He slid to one knee just in front of the rail that ran along the edge of the roof. Flare looked around for what had hit him, but didn't see anything. Sorcery, perhaps?
Zalustus took the offense again, and charged in close to Flare. Zalustus jammed his sword right at Flare’s heart, and he just managed to deflect the blow. Zalustus reversed the motion of his sword, and it slid along Flare’s left leg, leaving a nasty cut in its wake.
After deflecting the last blow, Flare’s sword was pointing away from Zalustus. Ignoring the pain from the cut in his leg, Flare slammed his sword hilt into the Zalustus' face. The blunt end of the hilt smashed into his forehead, knocking him backward onto his butt.
Flare, sensing his advantage, bolted toward Zalustus. But Zalustus, still sitting on his butt, threw up both of his hands.
A brilliant flash erupted in front of Flare, momentarily blinding him.
Zalustus scrambled to his feet, and backed away, but then reversed his motion and rushed back. Flare, still disoriented from the flash, was caught by surprise, and raised his sword. He was too late, and he felt Zalustus’ sword slid through his stomach.
A terrible pain erupted inside Flare, and he leaned back against the stone rail.
Zalustus wrenched his sword back out, and Flare screamed in pain. Flare dropped his sword, and reached down holding his insides.
Zalustus leaned over Flare and smiled, “I told you that I would win.” Then Zalustus turned and shouted at the sky, “I win! At last I win!”
Flare could feel the numbness spreading over his body, and he knew that he was dying quickly. “I’m on my way, Murleen,” he whispered. Reaching down with his left hand, he unlatched Murleen’s sword. Flare looked at Zalustus, who was still celebrating, and looking away. ‘I’m only going to get one shot at this. Murleen, help me.’ He lifted the sword, and then saying a prayer beneath his breath, he staggered away from the rail toward Zalustus. Flare raised the sword, ignoring the pain he felt ripping through his stomach.
Zalustus sensed his danger, and turned. Flare had already started the sword in motion, and Zalustus inadvertently turned right into it.
Flare jabbed the sword right into Zalustus’ face. Zalustus’ right eye burst, and gore ran everywhere, and he screamed. His cheek had a gash running vertically, and his nose was split open. Zalustus spasmed and shoved Flare away from him.
Flare landed on his back, and felt consciousness slipping away because of the pain. He could still hear Zalustus screaming, and Flare watched as Zalustus collapsed to his knees.
Flare heard another scream, but this one came from the flying creature. It swooped down out of the sky, and grabbed Zalustus with a claw and carried him, still screaming, away to the west. His screams slowly receded from Flare's hearing.
Flare felt the blackness approaching. He closed his eyes and welcomed the release. As he slipped away, he heard a bugle blowing, and a large number of people shouting. He could barely make out what they were saying, but as he slid into darkness, he heard “Telur! Telur! Telur!”
Chapter 17
Flare seemed to be floating on air. It was extremely bright, and seemed airy, like being surrounded by fog.
Voices could be heard, but he could not tell where they were coming from, and they were faint. He could not quite make out any of the words.
Flare did not know how long he had been here, but time didn’t seem to matter. It was like floating on water, an enjoyable sensation. His senses seemed dulled and he felt almost intoxicated.
'Is this the abyss? Where am I?' Flare had envisioned many things about being dead, but never had he imagined it like this.
After an indeterminable amount of time, he noticed a dark spot floating in front of him. It slowly grew larger, and he began to see shapes.
As the spot grew bigger, he saw a person lying on a bed in a rather nice room.
With a start, he recognized the person. 'Is that me?' He thought incredulously. Only then did he recognize the room as his own in fort Mul-dune
.
The spot was still growing, and it was starting to resemble a tunnel more than a spot. Flare felt a tug pulling him toward the tunnel. Another tug, and another, as he slid toward the tunnel. Then with a sudden jerk, he flew into the tunnel, and he knew no more.
Flare woke up and opened his eyes. His first thought was that the light was too bright, it hurt his eyes. Immediately after that, his second thought was that he wasn’t sure if it was the light that hurt his eyes, because everything else hurt as well.
He was lying in bed. It was the bedroom of Colonel Holt, the same room that Flare had claimed as his own. Although he knew where he was, he was confused and disoriented. How had he gotten here?
Kara was sitting in the chair beside the bed. She looked exhausted and she had a nasty bruise on her left shoulder just below her neck. She smiled at him, “Flare. I am so happy to see you awake. How are you feeling?”
“Terrible.” Flare said, trying to push himself up, “What happened at the gates?”
Kara jumped up, “Don’t move!” She exclaimed. Then she continued in a calmer voice, “Flare, you don’t need to be moving. Just lie still.”
Flare was some what taken back by the urgency in her voice. He slowly relaxed back in the bed. “What's the matter?”
She sat down on the bed next to him. “Flare, Do you remember what happened? Do you remember the fight on top of the temple?”
Kara’s words caused his mental fog to clear a little bit. With a rush the events of the fight came back to him. “What happened? I was stabbed in the gut… I thought that I was dead for sure. Do I have you to thank for being alive?”
She shook her head. “I have seen people wounded like that before, but I have never seen anybody survive it. I don’t think that the high priest himself could have done anything for you,” she paused, “except maybe pray for your soul.” A shadow crossed her face. “Flare, you should be dead, and yet the wound is already closing up. The internal damage seems to be already healed or very close to it. I have never seen anything like it, neither has the arch-bishop.”
The Guardians: Book One of the Restoration Series Page 29
