Ariel's Charm

by Marnie Lester

  Silently Reynaldo stood watching her flee from him and his rejection of her. His heart ached for the pain that he had just caused the only woman he had and would always love.

  Reynaldo dragged his mind back to the present, before closing his eyes he glanced again at Ariel and thought, “Sleep my child”.

  Chapter 41

  The next morning Ariel awoke just as the approach of the new day began to steal over the mountain tops. A faint light now permeated the makeshift campsite and Ariel was able to make out a variety of shapes both near and far. She rolled over and saw several people moving about quietly stirring fires and heating food. Ariel stayed nestled under the blanket. Rubbing sleep from her eyes she glanced towards Reynaldo and Marco and saw that they were still sleeping soundly. Only a tuft of golden blond hair was visible under Marco’s blankets. She smiled as she realised how lucky she was to have her dearest friend back in her life.

  The morning air was cool and Ariel could see a layer of dew sparkling over the thick grass and trees that surrounded them. Ariel sighed deeply as she looked around at the sleeping forms of those for whom she cared most. The air was much cooler in this mountain range and she was appreciative of the warm, thick blanket that Dalmar had given her. Turning her head, Ariel looked toward the forest and could see an intricate spider web that had been spun between the branches of a close-by tree. Each strand glistened with tiny beads of dew.

  Ariel knew that a battle lay ahead and yet for the first time in her young life she felt completely at peace.

  Within a short time the others had woken and the camp became a hive of activity as the sun slowly began to climb. Ariel was now accustomed to the golden Walhalla sky. She only had vague memories of the blue sky of her old home. In some ways she still had to remind herself that all of this was real. She saw Dalmar approach and knew that the time had come for the rebel forces to determine their plan of action against Largo. He sat beside their hearth as Marco served a delicious smelling tea to all three who were seated at the fire. Dalmar sipped his tea and hesitated before speaking.

  ‘I am sure Largo has rallied his army by this time. They are likely to be hot on our trail.’

  Ariel felt a shiver of dread at the prospect. She looked around at the gathering of the people and feared for them. The knowledge that they would fight for her was humbling. She remembered Reynaldo telling her how greatly-loved and respected her parents had been. Ariel wondered how she could ever take their place in the hearts and minds of the people of Walhalla. Holding his own cup of tea, Marco joined them. Dalmar continued.

  ‘We need to plan a defence. It is difficult to know how soon they will reach the valley but I have sent out recon-naissance scouts to report on their movements. It would have taken time to assemble troops and travel this distance but that does not mean we can relax. There is much to prepare and we need to be ready for the battle ahead.’

  A thought occurred to Ariel.

  ‘I was surprised at how easy it was to get Reynaldo out.

  Why?’

  Dalmar smiled.

  ‘I think that you gave Largo and his men a jolt by your actions. He has become complacent in his reign. The possibility that someone would defy him would be unthinkable to Largo.’

  ‘Particularly as he believed that you were safely shut away in the other world,’ Reynaldo added. ‘He won’t make that mistake again, Ariel. So you need to understand that Largo will throw everything he has at us. He means to prove that he is still in charge of Walhalla.’

  Ariel frowned to herself for a moment as she recalled Largo yelling and abusing the guard who, in his drunken state, had allowed Reynaldo’s escape. She could not help but wonder what had happened to that man. For reasons she could not explain, she shuddered.

  Reynaldo paused for a long moment, his eyes locked on Ariel’s. What he had to say was so important.

  ‘Ariel, you must understand … Largo wants to end your life.’

  Ariel felt a genuine fear at this prospect. A few months ago her biggest concern was how to escape the orphanage and what she would do with the rest of her life. Now she faced the prospect of fighting a battle to overcome a tyrant and possibly ruling a kingdom. Was she ready for this? Then she remembered that she had the courage to enter the palace dungeons and rescue Reynaldo. Would she be able to call upon the same strength again and would it be enough to overcome Largo?

  The rest of that day was spent building blockades on all roads leading into the area. Ariel found out from Dalmar that they were halfway between Trawn and North Alderidge in the far east of Walhalla. Ariel looked at the hastily drawn map that Dalmar had scratched in the dirt with a stick and noticed for the first time that a triangle had been formed with the capital of Golden City at the apex. Reynaldo explained to Ariel that the symbol of a triangle was sacred in Walhalla. Ariel remembered how frequently she had noticed this shape used — from the huts in the villages to the windows in the palace and of course the charm. Reynaldo explained that it represented the three boundaries of Walhalla: Golden City, Trawn and North Alderidge. Ariel wondered what lay beyond these boundaries then remembered Reynaldo speaking of other worlds and other realms. This idea made her think about the glimpses of faces and creatures that she had seen while making the leap. These were frightening images and Ariel decided some things were best not to explore.

  By the time everyone stopped for their midday meal the valley had been made secure. Ariel was impressed at the speed and dedication that was shown by the people of Walhalla. They worked as a team, each motivated by the prospect of, once again, enjoying freedom not just for themselves but for their children and future generations. Firstly though, they had to live through today and longer to see the future that they were fighting for to come to pass.

  Soon the small valley began to resemble a fortress. Wooden barricades stood shoulder high at all entry points. Gradually darkness fell and the exhausted people sat around quietly picking at their hastily prepared meals. Conversation was scant and soon everyone, excepting those set as the perimeter guards, fell into a troubled, fitful sleep. Ariel remembered the celebrations and laughter of the previous evening; a very different atmosphere hung over the encampment this night.

  The next morning Ariel was jolted out of her sleep by the sound of shouting and thundering hooves. The sound was immense and Ariel could not imagine how many men made up an army that was large enough to make such a din. The people around her were quickly scrambled into action and ran for weapons, their voices rising in hysteria as they understood that this day would be a decisive moment in their efforts against Largo. It would be brutal and it would be conclusive — only one side could win the battle. They knew what was about to happen. Some would live and some would die. ‘Please Pallagrin, be merciful and make it a quick death!’ she thought.

  It was still very early. A heavy fog surrounded the valley and slightly muffled the sound of the approaching army. Dalmar and Reynaldo shouted orders, trying to bring some sense of order to the confusion of hundreds of people milling about in fear. Most of the people gathered were farmers and their faces showed their dread as their shaking hands clutched their weapons. These men knew that they would be fighting trained soldiers. They knew that their lives were now in the hands of the gods. They glanced down at the weapons in their hands; old rusted swords accompanied hastily strung bows and fire hardened young saplings that had been whittled down into spear points. Many of those assembled had never held a weapon until now — they had no reason to before.

  The volume of the approaching army increased and dark shapes could be seen through the fog. Now, a terrified silence hung over the assembled rebel army. Men stood in lines behind each barricade, their faces determined, their fear palpable. Some of them, driven by fear, fidgeted and wept and called on their mothers.

  Yet, in spite of their fears, they would fight for their sovereign, comrades and themselves. They would give their lives to this cause. They glanced at each other as the dark shapes gradually resolved into men on dra
llion back. Each rider held a spear and their faces were contorted as they shouted battle cries. The noise was deafening; thundering hooves, the cries of animals and men. The fate of Walhalla was about to be decided. Largo’s army had come.

  Chapter 42

  Marco and Reynaldo ushered Ariel into a group of dense trees at the edge of the forest bordering the valley. She was firmly instructed by them to stay there and out of sight. A group of women and small children also hid in the trees nearby. Ariel could only watch in frustration as her people assembled ready to fight-off the approaching army. The rebels, led by Reynaldo and Dalmar, had organised themselves into groups and manned the blockades. Dalmar signaled the elandril riders and, as a group, they took to the skies.

  Ariel noticed many of the men lining the blockades were armed with bows and arrows, while some seemed to be wielding what looked like farm implements. The thundering sound of the approaching forces surrounded them and she noticed hordes of drallion riders crossing the mountain ranges from several directions at once. A series of yells could be heard and Ariel saw the first group of the drallion riders leaping over the blockades.

  Arrows and spears flew and many found their mark. Ariel watched as several of the drallion riders fell, arrows protruding from their chests. Cries came from the men who were wounded and they were soon joined by cries from the women as they saw their men maimed or killed. The riders kept coming and it seemed as though the rebel forces would be overwhelmed.

  Near the front of the line Ariel saw Reynaldo and Patrail fighting, their loathing for each other obvious in every blow. Both men were marked, bruised and bloodied from their private battle.

  The two sworn enemies faced each other. Both knew there would be no quarter given, no pity and no leniency in this fight.

  Patrail grunted as he poured every ounce of his strength into each swing of his sword.

  Patrail hated Reynaldo.

  Reynaldo loathed Patrail.

  Their hatred for each other was a poison chalice that was shared by both men. They shared a knowledge that, this day, only one would walk away from this battle. For one there was no escaping the shadow of death; for one, his ancestors would be waiting for him today.

  Adrenalin surged through the veins of both men as they circled and attacked with the ferocity of a hatred that went far beyond reason. It robbed them of rational thought. The only thing they knew was that they were fighting for their lives and the need to kill the other was all-consuming.

  They circled each other, both men looking for an advantage. Their hands armed with sword and dagger. On instinct, Reynaldo’s right arm swung down and, with the hilt of his sword, knocked Patrail’s dagger away. Patrail cursed and stepped back, his shattered wrist already turning black. The pain from the broken bone was clear on his face. Reynaldo smiled and swung again, this time landing a solid blow to Patrail’s jaw. Two rotten teeth flew from his mouth in a spray of spit and blood.

  Suddenly, Patrail lunged forward and grabbed the back of Reynaldo’s neck imprisoning Reynaldo’s sword arm against his chest. Clearly Patrail had forgotten the dagger which Reynaldo buried hilt-deep into Patrail’s abdomen.

  Patrail stumbled. His body was in shock, his mind not accepting what appeared to be a certain fate.

  Reynaldo’s nostrils flared from the foul stench of dirt and sweat that lay in thick folds over Patrail. The other fighters had ceased to exist. For Patrail the end was near and for Reynaldo the victory over Patrail, sweet. This fight was personal. It had been coming for far too long.

  Again Patrail stumbled. Cursing loudly, he spat blood into the dirt at his feet. He swayed. His left hand was pressed to his side where blood flowed from his deep wound; the stain slowly spreading down his leg. Swinging wildly with his sword, Patrail charged forward, a furious bellow emerging from his injured mouth.

  Reynaldo was ready. He simply took a step to Patrail’s left and plunged the full length of his blade into Patrail’s chest. The hilt vibrated against his hands and he knew that his blade would penetrate no further.

  Reynaldo watched the life fade from the other man’s eyes and tried to feel a scrap of remorse or pity, but he could not.

  Chapter 43

  In the midst of the dust and cries of pain and anger, Ariel wondered where Largo was. She looked around and noticed a lone figure mounted on a drallion watching from an overhang above the line of battle. She recognised the long black cloak and, for just a moment, saw his gaze scanning the forest as if searching for her.

  Soon another sound joined the fray as elandrils swooped down into the midst of the battle. The elandrils screeched loudly and the drallions reared at the approach of the powerful birds, many unseating their riders. The drallion riders fell to the ground and scrambled away on hands and knees from their rearing charges and the diving elandrils. Ariel saw Dalmar and Elizon leading the charge.

  The field was littered with bodies – some men and some women, some trying to crawl to safety, others too badly damaged to move. Ariel watched the wounded, struggling men nearby. Every instinct screamed at Ariel to rush forward and do something, however she knew that exposing herself would be unwise. Some of the women near her ducked low and moved to the sides of the men who had been wounded. Women wept as they bravely attended to their injured and battered men folk. They tore strips from their clothing to use as bandages and, where possible, help the wounded from the field of battle.

  Helplessly, Ariel watched everything that was happening. She was consumed with terror and guilt; guilt at the knowledge that these people who had not known of her existence until only a short time ago would now lay down their lives for her. She watched in terror as more and more drallion riders leapt the barricades, their forces vastly outnumbering the rebel army. She looked back toward the overhang and noticed that Largo had left his safe perch. Plumes of dust combined with the smells of sweat and blood made her eyes sting. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced around trying to see if Largo had joined the fray.

  A sudden pained cry made her turn back to the battle and, horrified, her eyes saw Elizon with a spreading pool of blood staining his white chest feathers. The beautiful bird reared, spreading his wings, clearly in pain. A long spear protruded from the wound and Ariel heard Dalmar’s cry of grief as he tried to raise Elizon’s head. Arrows marked him in several places but clearly none could penetrate his thick feathers. It had taken a well-aimed spear to penetrate them and find his heart. Ariel could hear Dalmar’s anguished cries as he tugged uselessly on the reins. The magnificent bird slowly crumpled to the ground and died. Ariel’s eyes blurred with tears for the bird as she remembered his purring while she stroked his neck. Her attention was focused on this horrible scene. Dalmar knelt beside his dearest friend and wept openly.

  Suddenly a hand clamped over Ariel’s mouth and she felt herself being dragged backwards. She had no doubt that she was being held by Largo. He had taken advantage of her distraction and must have approached through the trees behind her. The women nearby screamed.

  Two men rushed forward, their sword raised, ready to defend their queen.

  ‘Drop your weapons!’ Largo shouted. He smiled as he produced a small, wickedly sharp knife and pressed it to Ariel’s throat.

  The men hesitated then threw their swords to the ground.

  The soldiers and rebels fighting nearby turned. Soon all of them were distracted enough to still their battle.

  The cold blade of the knife was pressed hard against Ariel’s throat and she realised that this man had no qualms in ending her life, right here, right now. She also knew that this had been his goal all along.

  The valley that had been the scene of a heated battle slowly grew silent. People from both sides of the battle held their breath as the current and the possible future leader of Walhalla stood locked in a terrifying tableau. The air vibrated with electricity as Ariel realised what was at stake as her life hung in the balance. She could read the fear etched on the faces of the Walhalla citizens. They had sacrificed their lives to fight a
tyrant who now had the upper hand. She knew that she had to fight back or the evil man who had stolen her parents from her would once again be victorious. Ariel looked at the faces of the people of Walhalla who were now watching the scene before them with a mixture of horror and fascination. She could see Marco being restrained by two men as he tried to come to her aid.

  Ariel was aware of the heat emanating from Largo’s body as he pressed against her and she noticed the same peculiar odor that she had first smelt in his office at Brentonville. The pressure of his hand on her mouth and nose restricted her breathing. She could feel the coldness and pressure of the knife held to her throat. She knew any sudden movements would cause the knife to plunge. There was a small pricking sensation followed by the warm trickle of blood down her neck. Gasps came from the people who were witness to this scene. Black specks began to float before her eyes and Ariel’s head spun from the lack of oxygen. She knew that if she did not do something now she would faint and her life would be over.

  Summoning her courage and the last of her strength she did the only thing that she could think of doing. She slumped in Largo’s arms feigning unconsciousness and she felt his grip loosen a little. The hand that had been across her face slipped as Ariel tipped forward slightly. The knife against her throat faltered as he tried to adjust his hold. Ariel knew that this was her only chance. She kicked backward against his shin. He gasped and dropped the knife in surprise. She then wrenched herself free from his hold and spun out of his arms. Ariel fell to the ground and then quickly scrambled to her feet and backed away from Largo. The people watched on not knowing now that Ariel’s bravery in escaping Largo was a moment in time that would be written in history. Eventually it would be told by elder to younger for generations to come. The people nearby gasped and then fell silent. The future of their land rested in the scene that they were witnessing and that knowledge created an air of electricity in the immediate area.