by Jon Kiln
That is my thinking also. Cronos said in Torno’s mind as he read the wolf’s thoughts. We may never get this close to her again. Let’s find her, quickly. I’ll know what to do once she’s in my grasp.
They did not need to go in search of the bear, as it found them. The witch, known as Ravyyne, stepped out from the undergrowth in front of Cronos and the wolf. She stood on her hind legs and towered over the wolf and boy, her mouth open in a deep rumbling roar, sharpened teeth bared ready for the kill. She knew this was the perfect opportunity to grab the child. One lone wolf could not stop her when she had such strength as a bear.
Without warning she sprang at the wolf, claws extended. She hoped to make a quick kill and take off with the boy. But Torno was too quick for her large, slow moving body. He easily evaded her swinging paws and ducked under her lunge, Cronos still firmly upon his back.
I’m going to get off, Torno, the boy communicated, in his mind. We’ll fight better apart. Then she has two opponents. You keep her distracted for as long as you can. I have a plan.
No. The wolf was not happy with this idea. Stay on my back. I want you where I can protect you.
Too late, the boy had already slid off the wolf’s back and was running into the thick bushes. Ravyyne saw this as a good opportunity to kill the wolf and she lunged again. Torno reared up and sunk his teeth into the bear’s chest as the beast landed on him. The pair rolled around, wrestling with jaws and claws. Both making deadly growling noises as they each attempted to rip and slash at the other’s body.
Cronos searched for the prickliest bush he could find. He willed it to open up its branches so he could climb and hide within. From his vantage point, he closed his eyes and was soon witnessing the fighting wolf and bear through his mind. Both creatures were covered in sore red patches of blood, both inflicting terrible injuries to each other. He must work quickly.
Torno had an opening and he lunged on to the back of the bear. He sunk his teeth into its neck, growing wildly as he did so, and hanging on to it by his long claws. Soon it shook him off, but he was succeeding in tiring it with his constant plunges and bites. Where was the boy and what was he up to?
As Torno fell to the ground, the bear was instantly upon him, ripping at his torso with the razor sharp claws, slicing through his skin. The burning sting of her claws was excruciating, but he must fight on, he must stop this witch from getting a hold of the boy. Where were the others? Hadn’t they sensed his need of help?
I need you to get out of there, now, the boy’s voice rang in his head. His voice was firm and insistent.
Torno could hear a strange sound, a load humming noise, and it was getting closer. As he managed to pull himself away from the bear, he could see a large, dark shadow in the sky, and it was coming their way. The bear was oblivious of it, so intent on killing the wolf, she was ignorant to all around her, until it was too late. The wolf did as he had been instructed and with all the remaining strength he could muster, he darted into the undergrowth.
He expected the bear to be instantly upon him, but he could not feel its presence and he heard no heavy footsteps behind him. Swiftly he turned around to see where the bear had got to, or even worse, had it gone to get the boy from his hiding spot. The bear was still in the same place he had left him, but what he saw shocked him. How? Where had they come from?
The bear was staggering around the clearing, batting its paws at a dark swarm that had surrounded it. It took a moment for Torno to realize that the creature was being attacked by bees, seemingly millions of them. The battle was completely one sided as the bear was enveloped by the stinging, flying insects. It staggered about the clearing, growling and snapping at the deadly attackers, as it battled vainly for its life. Finally overcome, it dropped to its knees, and with one last mournful wail it fell forward onto its face, and lay on the forest floor completely still.
She was poisoned by the venom of bees.
Changing back into his human form, Torno observed the bees blanketing the bear and the ground around it. There were so many of them carpeting the forest floor that it seemed to take a life of its own, as if the ground were moving.
A small hand took his own. He looked down to see Cronos by his side.
“I do not have the strength of a warrior, but I have many, many friends,” he said smiling at Torno, who smiled back at him.
The bees lifted as if they were one single entity. The dark cloud flew into the skies again, dispersing once it was above the canopy of the forest.
A female human body lay upon the floor in the place of the bear. Swollen and red, its entire body covered in tiny seeping lumps. The bees had poisoned the witch. Even witches were not immune to nature and her protectors.
39
Ganry desperately wanted this day of battles to end, but he knew that further deaths were inevitable before that could happen. Hopefully the wolves and the boy would find and kill the witch, but it was up to him to find Jeon and put an end to this madness.
Ganry moved through the camp with ease, no one challenging him. They were all too busy as the battle raged around them. His clothing was plain and unmarked. He could easily pass for a mercenary, on either side.
It was not going too well for the Palarans, especially with the witches trickery. There was a gaping hole in the battlements of the castle wall from the lightening strike. He hoped Myriam was safe inside. Still, the Mirneans were suffering their own dreadful losses, their hospital tents full of the wounded, with many dead littering the battlefield.
Jeon was nowhere to be seen. As the main commander of this battle, Ganry would have expected him to be in the thick of it, commanding his troops. The old Jeon he knew would have. He fought many battles by his side in the past. Keeping his head down and trying to blend in, Ganry searched for his nemesis.
***
General Jeon had just finished a consultation with the witches in the forest and was riding back to the battlefield. All was going well. The Palarans were trapped inside the castle. The witches had tricks that would turn the course of this fight in their favor. They were a powerful ally, not ones you would want as an enemy.
Briefly he felt a pang of sorrow for the death and destruction that would be meted out today. Many would die, but it was too late to turn back now. He had come too far, sold his very soul to the witches so he could have his son returned to him. They promised him his boy, exactly as he remembered him, and not as some walking shell like the monstrosities that had been risen for the purpose of this war.
Ganry had lied when he said his son would not be the same, How could he know anyway? He had to believe that his son would be normal, or all this was for nothing.
He hated meeting the witches. Getting so close to them made his skin crawl and he always felt debased afterwards. They were a means to an end, and one that was finally in sight. Entering the camp, his spirits were lifted by the thought that it was almost over. Once reunited with his son, they would go somewhere and start a new life.
Glancing across the camp, the General felt a shudder down his spine as he saw a familiar figure. He knew it was him the minute he saw him, even from a distance, and he knew why he was here. He knew that Ganry was looking for revenge for the death of his family. He had not personally killed them, but he had ordered it to be done.
Just for a fleeting moment he considered calling for a guard to take him down. Jeon knew that this fight would be to the death. Something stopped him, perhaps it was a lingering respect for his old comrade, or maybe it was the driving urge he had to extract his own revenge for his son’s death, of which he held Ganry responsible.
“Ganry de Rosenthorn, you have entered the lion’s den. Prepare to meet your fate,” he shouted.
***
Ganry suspected that the General was not in the camp. Moving towards the forest, where he was to link up with the wolves, he was stopped dead in his tracks by a familiar voice crying out a challenge.
Ganry turned and faced General Jeon, still mounted on his horse with a
look of triumph plastered on his face.
“I intended to kill you, once everything you held dear was dead. I wanted you to feel my wrath before I finally put an end to your miserable existence. I yearn to see the look of despair on your face as the Emperor’s son, who you have tried so hard to protect, is sacrificed to the witches. When that foolish child Queen, who you hold in such esteem, is lying dead in the castle. Tell me, Ganry, does she remind you of your daughter? They would be about the same age, wouldn’t they? I will enjoy taking this daughter from you, too.”
The General’s final remark cut deep. This from the man who had allowed the slaughter of his wife and daughter, purely because of his own grief. Today was a day of reckoning, and while deep down he felt that this may be his last, Ganry knew with a certainty he would have his revenge before it was over.
“You’re an old fool, Jeon. The witches have played you to their advantage. They have no intention of returning your son as he was. Not even the mightiest of witches or wizard could do that. He is gone, moved on to another place where there is no return. I think you probably know that yourself deep down inside.”
As Ganry spoke, the hatred for the man before him swelled up inside of the General. He would listen to no more lies. Digging his spurs cruelly into the horses rump, he charged at Ganry, his sword before him, intent on cutting him down where he stood.
As the large dappled horse neared him, Ganry waited till the very last minute, watching closely as the General’s sword readied itself to strike him. Just before it did, Ganry swiftly twisted his body sidewards as the sword harmlessly passed by his head. He swung his own weapon in an upward motion, aiming for the midriff of the General. His aim was true, but the General’s heavy armor repelled the blade off. Ganry felt the sword jar in his hands as metal hit metal. There was no fatal blow, but at least he would have winded him.
“You are a coward!” Ganry called after him as the horse rode away a short distance. “A murderer of women and children!”
The horse charged again, doing its master’s bidding. This time Jeon tried to knock Ganry to the floor by charging the horse into him. Again, leaving it until the very last minute, Ganry spun away to one side, lunging at the General as he rode past and knocking him off his horse. He fell on Ganry and they rolled over together. Quickly, they jumped apart, each going for their own weapons. They stood facing each other, breathing heavily, both a little disoriented from the fall. Their eyes were locked on to one another, neither daring to take their gaze away, both with eyes filled with hatred for the other.
“My son would be here today if not for you,” Jeon grunted in anger.
“Your son was a fool and I was not his babysitter. He was constantly in trouble and you know it,” Ganry replied. “But you, you murdered my family to sooth your own grief.”
“You needed to feel what it’s like for a father to lose a child. I taught you a lesson,” Jeon grunted again.
Unnoticed by either of them, a crowd was growing around the two men. Mirnean soldiers were attracted to the fracas, their attack on the castle momentarily forgotten as they watched their General fight with an unknown man.
Ganry threw down his sword. “I’ll kill you with my bare hands!” he cried, lunging at Jeon.
Jeon threw down his own weapons and readied himself to fight in hand to hand combat with the man he hated. “For the memory of my son, I will finish you once and for all.”
Neither of them were aware of the gathering crowd. They had only one goal, to kill each other. For the General it had been a long felt ambition. Now they were together, nothing would keep them apart.
They charged at each other, both big men, strong and veterans of battle. Fighting hand to hand, they wrestled each other to the floor. Each one landed blows on the other. Heavy hard fists crunched into tissue and bone. Each one attempting to gain some advantage.
Ganry was slightly younger and stronger than the General, who was fading fast, his strength lessening each minute they grappled. He was beginning to regret his foolishness in agreeing to hand to hand with Ganry. A sudden blow struck him on the side of the head, rocking his entire body. He knew it was over. Yet, he knew he had one last throw of the dice. Pulling a hidden dagger from behind his back, he rammed it into Ganry’s side, all the way to the hilt.
Ganry felt a sharp pain in his ribs and broke away from Jeon. Quickly, getting to his feet, he reached around to his side to feel a sticky wetness. He knew it was his blood. The traitor had stabbed him. He could feel his own strength slipping away as the blood poured from the wound. Ganry knew if it was not tended to, it would be fatal.
Jeon circled Ganry, a sinister smile pasted on his face. He now had the better of him. Sure, he had cheated, but that was his right, to avenge the death of his son.
As Jeon circled his opponent, readying to strike the final blow, he noticed a silence around him. He quickly glanced at the field. He’d been so wrapped up in his personal battle, that he’d forgotten more was at stake here today.
The soldiers had stopped fighting. There were no witches and no walking corpses to be seen anywhere.
Ganry also surveyed the area. On the edge of the forest he could see the boy and the giant, surrounded by the wolves. It could only mean one thing, the witches were dead.
“It’s over Jeon, the witches are no more. They are not going to bring your son back, not that I ever thought they could. Lay down your weapon. It is time for you to atone for your crimes.”
The General looked around, he could not believe it had all gone wrong. Ganry was not lying this time. It was no bluff, the witches were gone, the boy had triumphed over them. Everything he had planned, his hopes for a life with his son, had been cruelly wrenched from him. All because of the man who stood before him. Jeon had some satisfaction in watching the blood pour from Ganry’s wound. Hopefully a fatal wound. Ganry still had the strength to kill him and Jeon could see it in his eyes. He would not give him that last satisfaction.
“Nooo!” the General cried out.
Before anyone could move to stop him, he raised the dagger above his head, the same one he had stabbed Ganry with, and plunged it into his heart. For one brief moment his features softened as he looked at his mortal enemy. He dropped to his knees in front of Ganry, the dagger protruding from his chest. The light of life in his eyes disappeared and he fell face forward into the dirt.
40
It was finally over. The General was dead as were many of the witches, the rest running for their lives. Ganry collapsed to the ground, the loss of blood from the wound in his side finally taking its toll. He lay still, looking up at the deep blue sky, and thoughts of his beautiful fair haired wife came to mind. How he had loved Annabella and his daughter, Ruby. Remembering the day she was born brought a smile to his dry lips, and a tear to his sore eyes. If only he could be with them.
Perhaps it would be easier just to let go, here and now. The wound in his side was most certainly fatal, if not treated soon. He could easily let his life slip away, end it here, and join his family for all of eternity. Once he had lost his loved ones, his life had been a lonely one, until he met a princess. That princess was now a queen.
Memories of the queen shook him from his lethargy, as much as he wanted to let go, he knew that he still had a role to play. His Queen was relying on him. He needed to get to the castle and see how Myriam was fairing. He knew the walls had been breached. The magic of the witches had caused damage and some Mirnean soldiers had invaded the castle. He hoped that Myriam had been kept safe.
A strange silence had enveloped the battlefield. Was there some sort of witchcraft at play? Sitting up he could clearly see that the fighting had finished, the battle had ended. The Mirnean soldiers were walking around as if in a daze. To his right he could see the prone body of the General Jeon.
He tried to stand but his legs simply did not have the strength, and he fell back down onto his backside. With a monumental effort he pulled himself onto his hands and knees, determined to crawl to the cas
tle, if that’s what was required.
“Ganry de Rosenthorn, you look quite the sight on all fours. Perhaps you have some wolf blood in you?”
Standing in front of him, with a smile on her face, was Grecia, in her human form.
“Come let me look at your wound. I can help.”
Ganry collapsed down and rolled over onto his back with the last of his strength. As he looked to his side he could see the ground was stained a dark red with his blood, and lots of it. Perhaps he was going to get his wish after all and meet his wife and daughter in the afterlife.
Grecia moved over him and was shocked at his ashen face. He looked old, very old. She knew instantly that she had only just come in time. A few more minutes and there would have been nothing she could have done for him. Closing her eyes she held her hand at Ganry’s side, pressing firmly into the area around of the wound, and started to chant. Repeating the same words over and over again, her face was a mask of concentration.
Ganry felt an incredible warmness sweep through him, a heat that started at his wound and emanated to the very extremities of his body. It revitalized him. The pain from his wound subsided and he felt strength return to his limbs.
“There, that should help,” Grecia told him. “You will still be weak for a while, you have lost much blood, but you will survive.”
Although she smiled at him, Ganry could tell that all the healing she must have done on this battlefield had taken much out of her. Her face was drawn and tired. He felt an immense fondness for this shapeshifter who had just saved his life.
A rider approached them on horseback. Whoever it was, was looking for him, and had now found him. Looking up he recognized Riley.
“It is over, Ganry,” he informed him, excitedly. “The Mirneans have laid down their arms and are moving away from the castle. But, the Queen is injured, and Artas is blinded. You must hurry, she’s asking for you.”
