by Jon Kiln
“I’ve had a dark cloud hanging over me for weeks, Ganry. My dreams have been troubled and I wake up in the strangest of places.”
“You have been possessed, Artas,” the grey eyed woman informed him. “The witches have been controlling your mind. They have used you to lead them to the Emperor’s son. But, fear not, all is well. Wolves do not fear the witches, it is they who fear us.”
“So it’s me that’s put us in danger?” Artas looked horrified at the thought.
“No, Artas, it is my fault, not yours. I know nothing of magic, but I should have seen you were not yourself.”
“We should return to camp,” Riley interrupted them. “I fear the woods are not safe.”
Ganry agreed. “Can you walk, Artas?” he asked.
Artas got to his feet with the aid of Grecia, and although he was a little unsteady, he could support himself. Soon they were all heading back to camp.
“Why do the witches want the boy?” Ganry asked, hoping the wolves had the answer to this puzzlement.
“It was an albino that banished Thalia, the Witch Queen, many hundreds of years ago. This albino was a descendant of Emperor Fontleroy. The only difference was that then, it was a she, and not a he. Young Cronos has the same bloodline, and they need him for the ceremony to return their queen. You must ensure this does not happen. If the queen returns then the witches will be too powerful for humans to stop. The battle will be of magic, not swords. We will help you keep him safe, and together we will rid the world of this menace.”
Ganry realized at that point, this was not a battle between Mirnee and Palara, this was a battle for the very world. If the witches were to win, then darkness would envelop everyone.
24
Early the next morning a pack of wolves arrived at the camp, and with them was Cronos. No time was wasted and before long they were all heading out, making their way back to Palara. Ganry thought the best option was to speak to Queen Myriam and she could decide the fate of this mission.
Ganry led from the front, with wolves scouting out the area ahead. Cronos rode upon the back of a huge black wolf. Ganry marveled at the contrast between the boy’s white skin and the darkness of his jet black wolf.
The wolfman, Torno, was Cronos’s personal body guard, and he would fight with his life to save the boy, at all costs. A bond had formed between them when Cronos was a babe, and now they were inseparable.
Ganry was happy with this arrangement, as it meant he could concentrate on the journey and getting Cronos to safety, knowing he would be protected by the wolves if they were attacked.
They made good time and soon the village of Lochwyne was on the horizon, named after the lake on where the people had built their homes. It was situated just outside the borders of Slohal Prairie, on the human side of the Kingdom of Palara. This whole area was dotted with many lakes. Ganry had planned to camp around the village, at the end of their first day’s journey. Yet, as they neared, it was clear something was amiss.
One of the wolves returned from the scouting party and approached Ganry, changing into his human form.
“The village is empty,” he said. “I see no one, living or dead, but I sense an evil presence.”
They moved closer to the village, all keeping a wary eye on the lake as they grew nearer. The waves lapped at the shore and became more frequent, when suddenly, just as before, walking corpses began to rise from the water. They headed slowly towards them. The unmistakable stench of death in the air was overpowering.
The human soldiers drew their swords and dismounted, but before they could take the stance of combat, the wolves were instantly upon the dead. They attacked with a ferocity that shocked Ganry, snarling and snapping as they plowed through the undead. Headless bodies soon littered the beach as the wolves made short work of the slow moving corpses.
“The witches will need a stronger army than that if they are to succeed,” Grecia explained to Ganry, who hadn’t even had time to dismount to join the battle.
“Where do you suppose the witches are hiding? They must be close?” he asked the wolf shaman.
“They will not linger where my kind walk. If we bite them, they will turn to shape changers, so they will have fled. It is the magic within both peoples that makes them vulnerable. We cannot change a human with our bite, only kill them, but a witch would be changed. Once changed they would be outcasts, accepted by neither wolf pack nor witches coven. The chances are they would be killed by one or the other.”
“Only a few months ago, I shunned magic,” Ganry told her. “But now, it’s a different story. A man of my age sees much on his travels. I’m only too glad that humans are not affected by a wolf bite.”
“No, your bodies could not take the changing of bones and muscles,” she explained. “We are different, although we look the same when we are in your form. Our bodies grow differently. Our muscles and bones have a different element that allows them to transmogrify easily into our different body structures. Call it magic if you wish, but it is something deeper than that.”
“Are there are other types of witches?”
“Indeed, just as there are other shape changers. Most witches care for the earth, create potions for healing. They are good people and only want to use their magic to help others, not harm them. Not so with this clan. They are evil and would see the end of mankind if they rule. Magic and men can live together and have done so for thousands of years. Only when the magic is dark does it pose a threat to your kind, and ours too. We will fight this threat together.”
Ganry was pleased the wolves were their allies and not their enemies. The short work they had made of the living dead was a testament to their prowess in battle.
“How is Artas?” Grecia asked.
“We are grateful that you recognized his mishap,” Ganry smiled at her, noticing her beauty for the first time. Her long silver hair was mesmerizing and had an almost ethereal glow. How this woman could turn into a creature like a wolf, was hard to accept. She was so delicate and feminine.
“He is not sleeping as much, which is a blessing. Though he’s punishing himself for being caught by the witches. He recalls a day in Mirnee when had no sense of where he had been. We think that is when the witches worked their spells on him. We also now know that the escape from the prison was a set up, so they could follow us to find the Emperor’s child.”
“Have no fear for Cronos, he is protected well,” she said. “Although I will sleep easier once we have him behind the castle walls. I fear there is worse to come, and would like him out of the open space.”
“I have that same gut feeling,” Ganry agreed.
The men piled the corpses into a heap and set fire to them. Again there was a strange blue light to the flames. It quickly engulfed the bodies, reducing them to ashes in mere minutes. Despite the attack, it was decided to stay near the village for the night, and so camp was set. Fires were lit and food was prepared.
“I don’t know what General Jeon’s part is in this. He was always loyal to the Emperor, in my days in Mirnee,” Ganry said to Grecia later that night as they sat around a brightly lit fire.
“You do not know, Ganry?” she asked him.
“Know what?” Ganry was puzzled at the shaman’s response.
“The witches have promised him the return of his son, for the Emperor’s child. Though he cannot know that his son will have no real mind. He will be a shell of a body.”
“You mean they can raise someone who has been dead these last ten years?” Ganry shuddered.
“They will bring forth his spirit’s memory and give it form.” Grecia grimaced, knowing it was dark magic that worked on such unnatural forces.
“Will he be like the undead we have seen?” Ganry was now worried for the General.
“No, these poor creatures have no spirit, they are just animated shells, driven on by a lust for flesh. They will awaken a memory of his spirit, but it will not be him, for he is gone to the afterlife. They will give it form, so it looks and feels h
uman. But, it will not speak, or eat, or drink. It is not really alive and will have no capacity to think or feel.”
“This is madness, they cannot do this spell, surely it is cruel for the spirit that should be resting.” Ganry wondered how the General could do such a thing to his son.
“No, it is not cruel to the spirit, as it is only a memory in a shell of a body. But, it is cruel to the father, for this will not be his son. It will be an animated body that will look like him.”
“I must find Jeon. He must be made aware of this. Then maybe he will end his support of the witches and set his army against them.”
“You cannot help him, he is so very desperate for his son’s return. He will not listen to you, even though deep down inside he probably knows it to be true.” Grecia put her hand gently upon Ganry’s arm. “He will think that you lie, especially you, for his hatred of you is a heavy burden he carries. The best way to end his pain is to end his life. Let the days ahead decide his fate. Together we must join the battle against the evil that we fight, and help to stem it, before Thalia awakens.”
Ganry nodded his understanding. “I promise I will do all within my strength to rid the world of this evil.”
Grecia stood up to join her pack. The shaman and her wolves would sleep out in the open, as wolves. Ganry and his men were in tents. Although he would place his men on guard duty, he knew there was no need. The wolves would miss nothing throughout the night.
25
Ganry’s party arrived back at Castle Villeroy, where he felt the Emperor’s son, Cronos, would be safer. Surely, not even the General would dare to attack the royal household. The wolves had agreed with this strategy, and made the trip with them to ensure his safety. Once he was safely behind the secure walls of the castle, they would help end this nonsense with the witches and restore the Emperor back to his rightful place. But they needed to know the boy was safe, as did Ganry.
Queen Myriam was there to greet them. She had been overseeing the arrival of the family mural from the Duchess’s destroyed castle. Myriam approached Ganry and the boy. She welcomed Ganry back and introduced herself to Cronos.
“Welcome to Castle Villeroy, Master Cronos. You will be safe here, until we can reunite you with your father.”
Cronos smiled at the queen, but said nothing, his attention was taken by the mural that was being laid out. Myriam, seeing his interest, nodded her approval, and Cronos ran to look at the stones. He seemed fascinated with the images depicted in the ancient stones.
Ganry bowed before Myriam, but soon formalities were forgotten. They were old friends with mutual respect, and had been through much together. Queen Myriam saw Ganry almost as a father, and Artas, her younger brother.
“Artas, how have you fared?” she asked, her brow knitted with a frown of worry. “You did not look well when you arrived back from Mirnee.”
“Indeed, I was not well, Myriam. I had been possessed by those wretched witches,” he told her, almost relieved to get the news off his chest.
Myriam looked at Ganry for an explanation.
“He tells the truth of the matter,” Ganry confirmed his tale. “That’s how they managed to track us on our journey. It was thanks to the wolf shaman, Grecia, that he is now free of their evil deed.”
At that point, Grecia had approached the group. Upon hearing her name, she curtseyed before the queen in respect, as she knew it was the human tradition to do so.
“I see I must thank you, Grecia,” Myriam smiled at her in greeting. “Artas is very precious to me. Our families have been through much together.”
“It is his young age that made him vulnerable,” Grecia explained. “It would have been more difficult to possess a mind of more experience, especially over a distance.”
“I thank your people for coming to our aid in this time of need for Palara.” Myriam was pleased the wolf people had come to help. “I am receiving daily reports of the armies of corpses. Usually there are not many in number, but the worst of it is, they consist of our own people. Those who have been killed by the witches and then raised against us. The whole situation seems uncontrollable.” Myriam looked deeply concerned as she turned to Ganry. “Hendon is out there, doing all he can to combat their magic, but he is alone, and they are many.”
“Fear not Queen Myriam, magic can be beaten with magic. You have more allies now, and we will go to Hendon’s aid.”
“I will get word to him,” Myriam, said, “although I doubt he’ll stop. He is a man close to nature and understands what an abomination these undead truly are. Knowing him as I do, I imagine he will do all he can to put them to rest.”
“This coven of witches have very little respect for humans,” Grecia said. “They believe that the world is for those with magic, and show disdain for those without. Should they succeed in raising Thalia, humans would become slaves, or die resisting.”
A cry of urgency from the courtyard drew their attention. As they turned to investigate the ruckus, they could see a messenger on horseback. He shouted for the gates to be closed behind him. Dismounting, he quickly approached the Queen and her party. He had clearly ridden long and hard to get to the castle, and he swayed slightly as he stood. Ganry helped the messenger to remain standing so he could deliver his message to the queen.
“I am sent by Hendon, your majesty,” he said, taking deep gasping breaths between sentences. “He says to inform you that he could not contain them.” Again he paused while he caught his breath. “A large army of dead are approaching the castle, and as they march, more join them daily. Your own people are sent to destroy you, my Queen. You must lock down the castle or flee.”
“Take this man to rest and give him food and drink,” Ganry ordered one of the castle soldiers who stood close by.
“I am going to put the castle on lockdown,” Ganry told Myriam, who nodded her agreement.
“My people are at your disposal,” Grecia said, realizing the urgency. “We must get the boy inside. I have other shamans with me who know what to do, but we need chambers that are deep within the castle walls. No windows and thick walls. Though, it needs to be somewhere we can escape with the boy, if necessary.”
“I will take him to the underground chambers,” Myriam replied. “We have hidden passages that lead to various places throughout the castle. He will be safe there, or at least as safe as anywhere is in these times of madness.”
“Our kingdom depends on it,” Ganry added. “These witches must not get a hold of that child.”
Myriam nodded, and, hand in hand with the Emperor’s son, they walked towards the castle keep, followed by three of the wolf shamans.
“I must go and ensure all our walls are guarded. Your people are welcome to join me. I will disperse them among the castle guards,” Ganry said to Grecia.
Grecia spoke to one of her kind who had been by her side. Instructions were given and most of the wolves dispersed.
“We fight better in the open, Ganry, not in confined places. I am sending most of the pack out beyond the castle walls. I will be joining them, for we must hunt down these witches. If we can kill the witches who control these pitiful creatures, then and only then can the dead finally be laid to rest.”
“I will come with you,” Ganry said. “Give me an hour to organize the guard and we will set off. I must find General Jeon. If I can tell him the truth, I may convince him to stop this madness.”
“I doubt it, Ganry. General Jeon is too far gone. He believes he controls the witches, but it is in fact they who control him.” Grecia made to leave. “We will wait for you.”
26
Ganry stood on the castle battlements, overlooking the fields that surrounded the castle. For as far as the eye could see, they were filled with the walking corpses who moved relentlessly towards them. What started as a small group had quickly turned into hundreds. He suspected most were Palaran citizens.
“My heart weeps for my people,” the queen’s voice spoke softly, behind him.
“Myriam, you sho
uld not be out in the open. You must go with the boy,” Ganry pleaded. “At the very least you could escape though the tunnels if we’re overrun. Try to take him to safety, if anywhere exists at these times.”
“I refuse to cower away with the children while my people are so defiled,” she reprimanded Ganry at such a suggestion. “We must put a stop to this. It’s time these witches faced our soldiers in battle, and not the innocent citizens who cannot defend themselves against evil witches.”
A wail of unspeakable misery rose from the assembled corpses, chilling everyones hearts. Queen Myriam shivered visibly.
“Myriam, you must go inside. The stench and noise is not for a queen to witness. I need to know you are safe. You must survive this, if the gates come down. You are the Queen of Palara.”
“So my grandmother has reminded me, several times,” Myriam said, defiance in her eyes. “Ganry, how many Palarans will they kill before this madness ends?”
“I’m to go out today to find their General. The wolves will hunt for the witches. It will end one way or the other,” is all Ganry would commit to. “Now go, Myriam. You owe it to your people to remain safe. Should their Queen be killed, there is sure to be an all out war with Mirnee. If it is possible, I hope to avoid that. This is not the fault of Mirnee, it is the fault of an evil coven of hags.”
The wails from the dead had reached a crescendo, sending even the bravest soldiers into a state of panic. Queen Myriam could see many of them were close to crumbling. She must do something quickly. She must talk to them. She climbed a raised platform to tower over the people on the ground, and she spoke as loud as she could.
“Soldiers of Palara, listen to me, listen now!” Myriam was shouting to be heard above the noise of the wailing dead. “Your kingdom calls on you because you are our last wall of defiance. Should you fail, then the kingdom fails with you. The people in our lands will be stricken with the the problems that Mirnee face. Our kingdom will become nothing but a memory, words in some historical tome. We must not allow this, we must stand together and fight this evil that threatens our nation. Some will not see the end of this day. They will never be forgotten and they will be written into the lore of our kingdom. Remember, you are brothers as you fight. Remember, the dead that are now ranked before you, they were once fellow Palarans. Let their deaths not be in vain. Our people are relying on you. Stand and do your duty. For your queen who stands with you. For your kingdom, send these evil witches into oblivion.”
