In the middle of the great plains between two mountain ranges running north and south, the city of Buffalo Horns was where weary travelers crossing the plains replenished their water supply, bought buffalo meat, and if they had coins to spare, they bought highly prized buffalo robes and liquid spirits made from grain crops harvested by the farmers. An intricate frame of buffalo horns and antlers decorated the gates into the city.
…
Akira stood on a narrow walkway atop the wall surrounding the city It was narrow for defense purposes. Thick dust was in every crevice between the timbers. The sand and fine dust from the last wind storm had not been teased off the walkways by gentle breezes or washed off by summer rains. She stood with the other mages watching trenches being dug in the fertile earth below and beyond the western perimeter of the city. Spirit sat behind the wall making the citizens of Buffalo Horn nervous. Akira smiled for a timid man nervously threw a fresh buffalo off a wagon for the great beast. He dared not take his eyes off the dragon that was easily ten times the size and weight of the great buffalo being offered as a meal. He backed away carefully. Spirit roasted the buffalo with a slow fire coming from her half-closed jaws. A small crowd of braver men gathered and watched the dragon. They were mesmerized. A man pointed out Akira to his companions. “The dragon rider, there.” Akira read his lips. She stared at him then turned back to look beyond the wall. The attention was disquieting.
Markers were being set for gauging distance. Oil was being poured on the dry grasses to each side of the city. The witch, Fern was chanting, then singing. She turned and faced each of the directions, north, south, east, and west. Akira heard her sing, “Come my little darlings, my winged sweet little friends, come on the winds my friend, Yooda, is providing to make your journey swift. Come to me. Mother earth needs you.” Fern stopped chanting, stopped singing. She turned to Yooda. “I’ve called them. A gentle wind is all they need. No need to raise the dust yet.” Yooda nodded. He reached into his robes and pulled out what looked like dandelion fluff. He threw the umbrella shaped seeds, threw them in the four directions. He waved his arms. The seeds swirled. He reached out and pulled at the air to the north towards himself. The seeds he had thrown northward were caught in a gentle waft of air. They rose hovering high above his head. He repeated the same action for the remaining directions. The seeds now swirled in a small funnel above his head. Wisps of Akira’s hair were lifted. She brushed them back from her face. Yooda turned to Fern. “Is that gentle enough for your little friends?”
Fern responded, “Gratitude. It is a pleasure to work with you, Yooda. I heard that mages were cantankerous arrogant beings.”
Yooda chuckled. It was the first time Akira heard him come close to laughter. Yooda smiled at Fern. “And I heard witches were ugly, snarly creatures that smelled like rotten apples.”
Fern raised her eyebrows. “And you believed that?”
“I believe a witch can look like many things. Is the face I now see an illusion?”
“My real appearance is a little disconcerting for most.”
“That ugly?”
Akira looked at Yooda in surprise. “What a rude thing …” She stopped short of scolding when she realized Yooda was teasing. Was the stern-looking mage flirting with the witch? At a time like this? Akira watched as Fern pushed back her hood. She held her hands in front of her face for a second then lowered them. Fern’s hair was turning green before their eyes. It was a brilliant yellow green. Her irises turned purple and her lips turned a pale shade of violet. Her skin was smooth, pale as milk. Small blue veins were visible on each side of her neck. Their pattern faded at her jaw line. A sprinkle of green freckles was across the bridge of her nose. The freckles sparkled like small emeralds.
She raised her hands once again and returned her image to that which they were all familiar. It was a human face that was mature, with character, neither beautiful nor ugly. It was a face that would blend in a crowd, attract no attention.
“Disconcerting for those uneducated to appreciate anything but their own narrow-minded ideas of beauty,” said Yooda. He smiled, then returned his gaze to the able-bodied men of Buffalo Horn, busily, if not frantically, digging trenches alongside the warriors who came to defend their city. Mounds of sandy soil piled high were a dead giveaway that obstacles were being placed between the wide pathway to the city between the oiled soaked grasses. Yooda raised his hand. A man below, watching and waiting for the magician’s signal, barked out orders to a runner. The runner ran swiftly. He ran past the first two markers to where his voice would be heard. The digging stopped. Within minutes every man took shelter inside the trenches or under shields held over huddles of warriors. The huddled warrior’s shields looked like large turtle shells in the distance. Yooda waved his arms as if sweeping cobwebs away from his face. A mighty wind crossed the plains in the distance. It gathered speed as it moved towards the city. Clouds of dust billowed high in the sky. A warning bell rang throughout the city. Shutters closed, doors slammed shut tightly, slammed behind citizens all too familiar with seeking shelter from the notoriously unpredictable dust storms of hot high summer. In the homes of the wealthier citizens, huge drapes dropped down to filter dust that would blow in through cracks in shutters. Candles were lit, oil lamps were lit. The people of Buffalo Horn settled in to wait out the storm. Shutters rattled as the wind roared louder than they had ever heard before.
Suddenly, the wind was still. Fear trickled into the hearts of those familiar with the destructive funnel-shaped wind devils that came without warning, winding their way across the plains, destroying without prejudice anything and everything in their paths. Those familiar with the calm in the eye of a wind devil counted, some silently, some out loud. It was customary to measure the length of calm period. The larger the count the more impressive the wind devil was. It was common practice to brag about surviving huge wind storms. The citizens of Buffalo Horn were expecting the howling, thundering roar to continue. It was more than puzzling when the howling didn’t start again. Many a curtain and shutter was pulled aside to peek at the sky.
Akira and the mages stood together high on the city wall, protected by an invisible shield Akira had quickly conjured. Yooda had lowered his arms. The wind had abated. When the dust settled and light filtered through the invisible shield, Akira snapped her fingers. The shield disappeared and the dust that had settled on it fell onto the mages. They all coughed. “Sorry ‘bout that,” said Akira, coughing. “Wasn’t expecting that.” The mages dusted themselves off. Waldorf didn’t look so fierce with dust clinging to his eyebrows.
Akira looked out over where the men had been digging trenches. The telltale mounds of dirt were gone. The land was swept smooth. Men climbed out the trenches. Shields lifted. Yooda looked pleased with himself. He dusted off his robes with a playful breeze, then let the breeze dust off the other mages. Akira heard a huge sneeze from below. Spirit looked up at Akira. She flapped her wings and sneezed again. She had tucked her head under a wing during the magician’s wind sweep. Akira leaned over and looked down.
“Are you alright?”
The dragon sneezed again. She blinked and shook her head to shake the dirt from her scaled forehead. “Just a little dusty.” She stood and shook like a dog coming out of water.
Yooda looked over the edge of the walkway at the dusty dragon. “Perhaps I can help.” Yooda pointed at the dragon and circled his finger. A swirling of air cleaned the dragon’s scales.
Sky Spirit looked at the magician and tipped her head in thanks. She stretched her wings. Standing on her hind legs she put her front legs against the wall and started to climb. Her talons dug into the timbers. When she reached the top, she perched for only a moment, just long enough for Akira to climb up her wing and set herself in the dragon saddle. They took to the sky and circled over the city. Again, a bell rang. It signaled it was safe for the citizens of Buffalo Horns to open windows and doors again, let their stock out of their barns.
When the inhabitants of the
city saw Akira and the dragon it was more amazing than the fact that there had been no return of the howling roaring wind after the mid storm calm came, the howling wind that always started after the eye of the storm passed over. Men were still counting until the bell rang out. It was a curious thing. But there was no time to ponder over or discuss the strange occurrences. A great evil was closing in on them. Carrier pigeons had brought messages that struck fear into the city’s ruling council. Every able-bodied man was ordered to arm himself. Buffalo hunters sharpened their spears and axes. Women and children gathered in the center of the city. They hurried into secret underground tunnels, helping the elderly, carrying the ailing on pallets, making their way to caverns the underground river had carved under the earth, carved centuries before the time of the buffalo hunters. Carrying torches, food, and blankets they settled themselves as best they could. Babies cried. Mothers hushed them with soothing words.
Above the ground, men were hurriedly setting sharpened stakes into the trenches. On the one side of the outskirts of the fortress walls, hidden from the view of the approaching enemy, the warlords, commanders of the allied army, readied their men for battle. Knights were helped into their heavy armor. Metal breastplates were fasted onto war horses. Warriors who were hungry ate flatbread, washing it down with ale. The men who had no appetite forced themselves to eat knowing they needed to keep up their strength. Hashashin warriors chewed their potent bitter tobacco leaves. The bitter leaves made them resistant to pain and filled the warriors with the strength of rutting bulls. The Hashashin were fierce in battle, hard to kill.
Dimitri climbed a ladder and joined the mages on the wall. He noticed that the mage called Zane let his eyes turn frequently to the sky to watch Akira and the dragon with great interest. He, too, looked to the sky more than was needed. He greeted the mages with a bow of respect “We are as ready as we ever will be. Are you ready?”
The mages nodded. Tazir stroked his beard and looked up at Dimitri. “Waldorf will work his magic as soon as you have removed all your men from the area between the last marker and the open plain where the enemy will be likely to set their war machines.” Waldorf stretched his neck. He pulled out a silver wand from inside his sleeve. “Water is such a useful weapon in the right hands. I have a way with water that should be advantageous in making the war machines fall short of reaching the distance they need to be most effective.”
“I’ll be looking forward to seeing you in action.” Dimitri turned to the witch. “Is your army ready?”
Fern smiled. “Yes. Yooda was kind enough to give travel assistance to my little army.”
“Little army? I was hoping for a large army of creatures at your command.”
Fern smiled. “Do not underestimate the power of my little army. Sometimes small is deadly.” She looked at the short Tazir pointedly. Tazir’s eyes narrowed as if he was unsure how to take the comment.
Dimitri raised an eyebrow. “Duly noted. Sometimes size is irrelevant.” He missed Fern’s wry smile at his response. It was the wry smile of a woman. He noted Zane’s eyes were following Akira’s descent to the ground in front of the city’s gate. “And you, Mage Zane, is there anything you need from me, any instructions?”
Mage Zane turned his eyes to Dimitri. “No Commander Dimitri. There is nothing I need from you.” He dismissed the warrior leader with his eyes. “No instructions.” Zane’s gaze returned to Akira and the dragon.
Dimitri followed Zane’s gaze.
“She is a beauty, isn’t she?” said Zane.
“Yes, my wife is beautiful.” Dimitri’s eyes narrowed when he spoke.
“Yes, of course, Akira is beautiful too. I was referring to the dragon.” Zane noted the twitch of Dimitri’s jaw. “It’s a pity for you that there is to be an annulment in the future.”
Dimitri’s expression was cold. “That remains to be seen.”
Zane looked at Dimitri with challenging eyes.
“We have a battle to win if there is to be a future,” said Dimitri. With his last word falling on a thoughtful silence Dimitri turned on his heel and walked back to one of the many ladders attached to the great wall.
Fern and Yooda exchanged a meaningful look. The tension between Commander Dimitri and Mage Zane was unmistakable. The mages looked down at the cause of the tension between the two men. Akira was busy loading her weapons onto the dragon. “They both are beautiful, are they not?” said the witch.
“Ah yes, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and my eyes have seen another beauty today that rivals what your eyes are fixed upon below,” said Yooda. Fern looked at him and be damned if she didn’t blush a bright pink.
Yooda looked out past the markers, past the trenches to where the distant mountains made a jagged purple hued horizon. Just below the horizon, the sight of an ominous black cloud wiped the satisfied smile from his craggy face. The witch followed his gaze. “He comes, sucking the light from the sky, sucking the warmth from the air. Do you feel it?” She shuddered involuntarily. “Evil. Pure evil,” said the mage. The witch turned around and looked in the opposite direction. Another dark cloud was forming.
Mage Zane looked questioningly at the witch. She didn’t look alarmed at the black formation she now pointed at.
“I gather from your expression, the dark cloud nearest us is one you expected,” said the magician.
“Yes. My little friends have arrived.” The witch hummed. “Rest littles ones,” she whispered softly. The dark cloud she had summoned swooped towards the ground in the distance. The creatures of her army were individually small, but in mass, the witch’s army formed a dark cloud that would have shadowed the city of Buffalo Horns had they flown over the city. The ground darkened where they landed. They had landed near the warlord’s armies, making the men nervous. Relief flooded through the warriors. When they realized the dark cloud of buzzing insects wasn’t interested in attacking them, it allowed the warriors to pay attention elsewhere. Those who cursed mages in the past, feared them, now were grateful for their presence. The longstanding fear of mages by some of the allies was evident in their comments to each other. However, prejudice against mages among many of the warlords now was quickly turning to respect, and a firm hope that mage power would make up for a lack of manpower.
Below the mages on the wall high above her, Akira felt the same chill the witch felt. Her eyes turned towards the horizon. The growing black cloud was foreboding. She wished her father was standing beside her. Her ears picked up the sound of distant thunder. Ominous lightning bolts streaked through the black cloud, followed by the sound of angry thunder, raced across the breadth of the darkness that formed a floating ugly canopy over the Dark Lord’s army.
High above her, Dimitri caught Akira’s gaze. He had walked away from the mages. He was standing where archers were settling themselves along the wall. His eyes studied her face. It looked to Akira as if he wanted to say something, then changed his mind. Akira stayed silent. It was too late to question the regret she saw in his expression. She was the first to look away. This wasn’t how she imagined she would be fighting a war. When she looked at him again he was studying the enemy’s approach. Ruggedly handsome and strong, he looked confident. He looked, acted, was, a charismatic leader.
As the din in the distance became louder, Dimitri quickly made his way down one of the many ladders, disappearing from Akira’s view. Deliberately missing the last few ladder rungs, he landed easily on the ground. A puff of dust escaped from under the dampened earth as he landed. For a big man, he landed light on his feet. Cronus was waiting for him with their horses at the bottom of the wall. Cronus wordlessly handed him the reins of his horse. When Dimitri mounted up, Cronus did likewise, following his leader out the city gates to where Akira and Sky Spirit watched the horizon. Dimitri, sliding agilely off his horse, closed the distance between himself and Akira quickly. “Dragon warrior.”
Akira walked to meet him. “Commander?”
Cronus, close on Dimitri’s heels, raised his eyebr
ows. “A little formal, are we?” He tutted.
Akira shot Cronus a warning scowl. Cronus shrugged his shoulders as if to ask ‘what’?”
“Can you look in your magic ball and tell me what you see?” Dimitri pointed his head towards the spreading dark cloud.
Akira nodded. One step ahead of her, anticipating Akira’s intentions, the dragon lowered her wing for Akira to climb up and dig into her saddlebag. Spirit sniffed the warriors in front of her as Akira glided down her wing. Cronus’s eyes widened. Being a warrior, and a bold one at that, he looked to see if any men saw his brave stance with a dragon sniffing him so close he could feel the dragon’s heat. When the dragon inhaled his scent deeply he looked like he feared he would be sucked up the dragon’s nostrils. The inside of the dragon’s nostril glowed red. Spirit made a rumbling noise. Cronus cringed. The seasoned warrior was unaware the dragon was laughing at him. Dimitri stared into the large eyes of the dragon. It was if they were sizing each other up. Akira put her hand on Dimitri’s arm to get his attention. She handed him the globe to see for himself what the mists in the globe revealed to her. Dimitri took the globe carefully. For all his renowned bravery, Akira could see he was nervous touching a magic object. Or perhaps he was nervous of what he might see. She studied his expression as he looked into the globe. His expression gave nothing away, but his deep breath did. He stared into the mists again as if to confirm what he saw, then looked at Akira. “As I expected we are vastly outnumbered. We’ll be depending heavily on assistance from the mages and yourself.”
Akira Rides Page 20
