“Keep on the move!” he shouted as he sprang the rest of the way up and out of the trench. “Don’t let them...him repeat that performance!”
His knights obeyed without a word, and managed to circle around the giant horseman before he could recover from Noah’s falling body. His blade had become wedged in Noah’s armor, but only for an instant. The giant black mass of swirling shadow and darkness quickly split into two men, each doubly as tall and powerful as a single man. The now-shrunken sword released from the armor, and now it was a battle of two versus five. Even surrounded and outnumbered the enemy horsemen were quick to begin evening up the odds in a flurry of devastating strikes.
Rushing towards those surrounding them, the horsemen faked an attack in two directions. Then turning to face towards one another, one of them split once again, creating two average-sized opponents, and one double-sized. Racing towards the center of the knights, the first horseman collided with the larger, double version of himself, thus creating a man three times his normal size. The larger one squatted as the smaller horseman leapt towards him, freeing up all speed and strength. What happened next was not only unbelievable, but in the very least, it was an unholy act to witness.
Catching the smaller version of himself within his hands, the giant horseman spun on his heels, using the momentum provided by his comrade leaping into his hands, along with every fiber of strength within his own muscles. Hurling the smaller version of himself with all of his might towards the nearest knight of Valdadore, the giant enemy froze as if a statue, watching the flight of its smaller self. As the small horseman shot through the air, in the blink of an eye he curled into a ball and began to glow before erupting into unnatural white fire that consumed him in a great blaze of unholy energy. For just a moment, the white ball of light shot through the air appearing to be an open-mouthed skull before it hit Griffin, another of Garret’s fabled knights.
The Knight of Valdadore had stood no chance. There was no deflecting this blow, nor could his armor have protected him even had he been wearing all of it. As the white ball of seemingly demonic energy struck him, it melted straight through his armor into the cavity of his chest where it blazed bright for an instant, charring all organs within to ash. The shell of the giant man collapsed, shimmering slightly, as he became his unblessed size once more.
Garret had lost two knights in under two minutes, and though the horseman had seemingly sacrificed one quarter of his abilities and strength, if he repeated it three more times, only one soul from Valdadore would be returning home. However, Garret believed he now understood how the blessing of the horseman worked. Each separation of the horseman shared the combined powers of them all. Four men could move at normal speed and had normal strength. However if three remained immobile, then one could move at four times the rate with four times the strength. This also worked when they combined. If two joined the resulting person was twice the size of an average man, with twice the strength and speed. So on and so forth. Now, having sacrificed a quarter of his power, the horseman was diminished, though Garret still did not know how to bring him down. But it seemed that Horace had an idea. Garret watched his only average sized knight present rush in to attack the horseman, three times larger than himself.
*****
Horace had been a Knight of Valdadore for over a century. He had watched hundreds of his friends die in battles, buried men far younger than himself and fought many an enemy who was more powerful than he was. Horace was unique in his gift however. Size, strength and speed were virtually useless against him. Horace only got hurt when he chose to, and only out of necessity. He lived every moment of his life twice, and in doing so, could alter his own future but only by a few moments. Thus he had avoided nearly every injury during every battle in over a hundred years of service to Valdadore. Even so however, he had never faced an enemy like this one. This black harbinger of death was unlike any unholy foe he had ever before encountered but Horace knew that if anyone could face the horseman, it was he. Praying to Gorandor, Horace leveled his silver eyes on his enemy and charged the oversized opponent, prepared to bring him down.
*****
Garret watched as Horace rushed the giant of a horseman, his red hair trailing loosely behind him. It was a peculiar sight, one seemingly from a children’s tale where a small hero charged in, fearful of nothing, against a larger, more formidable foe. One on one, Garret believed that Horace stood a chance against the shadowed giant, as dodging a single opponent’s blows was fairly simple for him. However, it appeared the horseman had already realized this as well. As Horace bore down on him, another clap of thunder sounded, and with a flash and a shimmer, where once stood the giant horseman, now stood three normal-sized versions of the same. The change did not even give Horace pause. He continued his charge, and with twin swords drawn he clashed with his enemy as the ringing of steel upon steel filled the air. Garret and his two remaining knights raced to join Horace who now fought valiantly in a battle of one versus three. Joining the fray, Garret was happy the odds were finally in their favor: four knights of Valdadore versus the three black riders. For many long moments the knights attempted to slaughter the horsemen, but the trio of black demons refused to be injured let alone slain. Again and again the knights swung their mighty swords, and again and again they struck only air as time after time their foe either moved with incredible speed or jumped impossibly high. It was almost as if they were toying with the Valdadorians, landing non-serious strikes, yet never once being injured themselves.
On and on the fight raged for over a quarter of an hour, as the valiant knights looked for their opportunity to end the fight, yet none presented itself. Then the horsemen decided to up the stakes as they again launched themselves into a flurry of attacks that were almost too fast to witness, and unbelievable if you could see it all. Like a symphony of thunderous booms the night air began ringing with explosion after explosion as the horsemen joined and split over and over again, attacking from seemingly everywhere at amazing speed. One was in the air striking at Garret’s face as an average sized man, another was kicking out at Horace with a massive black-armored boot at the same time that apparently two of the horsemen were fighting another of Garret’s knights. One moment a vassal of Gorandor fought a normal man, the next a giant like himself. The enemy was down upon the ground at one instant and then he leapt through the air. For each moment of the battle it was as if the enemy was everywhere at once, drawing blood again and again. Even Horace bled now, having taken a small wound in an effort to avoid a more serious one. Garret alone remained unharmed. It was not until Horace yelled, fear evident in his voice, that Garret realized that the enemy had indeed simply been toying with them.
“Duck!” was all Horace managed to yell, as he himself dove towards the ground.
Any warning from Horace was one that needed to be heeded instantly, but this time no one would be fast enough. As they began to react, the now-familiar thunderous explosion sounded yet again and three horsemen issued forth from where before had stood only one. Their bodies cloaked in darkness, the three shadowed men ran towards one another then leapt into the air. Meeting in the air, each man twisted to face outward as they collided, their eyes falling upon a target before their bodies connected. As the three made contact, they again erupted out from one another, moving too fast to truly see. They began to glow unnaturally as they shot through the air, then flared into a wicked inferno of white fire before becoming the visage of a burning skull with open jaws, ready to consume their targets.
Garret had hit the ground, taking Horace’s warning to heart, and watched as the explosion unleashed the unholy white fireballs towards his companions, sparing only himself. He witnessed as all three of his fellow knights were struck, and though he knew his enemy to be defeated too, it was the horsemen who had had the victory this night. Garret’s heart shriveled as anger and pain began to flood through him. Tears welled up in his eyes as he knew hope was lost. His plans here had been foiled; his hopes of saving the kingdo
m destroyed. He could not expect to win a battle with so few blessed warriors remaining. He could not even hope to finish digging the trench alone. All was lost.
Chapter 9
A Hot Meal
Sara stood within the hallway of the uppermost floor of the mages’ tower in Valdadore. Behind her was the chamber that she had been given while in service to Judilanthaliz, the head of the gray-robed guardian mages. He was dead now, having fallen in the battle with the black horde. This place was the closest thing to home she and Seth currently had. It had been some time since she and Seth were able to relax and enjoy each other’s company, and she more than anyone understood the great burden Seth bore upon his shoulders. Sara could see it weighing upon him; she knew he needed to pace himself, rest, and unburden his mind by speaking about that which troubled him. She also already knew a great way to help him unwind, and so stood within the vacant hallway completely naked. Not a single inch of her body was concealed by clothes as Seth topped the staircase. Giving a knowing smile as his eyes danced across her, Seth appraised her appreciatively and came to join her, his manly hunger growing with every step.
Sara waited expectantly watching Seth, her own anticipation growing as the man she loved neared. As she became more aroused, simply watching him approach her like a predator, she felt a hunger of her own begin to grow. Unwilling to repeat that particular experience, Sara struggled to suppress the need to feed upon flesh but barely succeeded as Seth snatched her unnaturally light body clean off the floor and pulled her into his arms. Kissing passionately and clinging to each other, both worked to remove Seth’s armor and clothing. Within moments Seth, like his lover, was unrobed, and though Sara tried to coax him into her room, Seth had other ideas entirely. Clasping Sara to his body, Seth spun to place his back against the wall. Sliding his hands down her back to grasp her thighs just below her firm bottom, Seth lifted Sara, sliding her body up his own. Wrapping her legs around her husband, Sara gasped slightly as Seth lowered her, his manhood penetrating her more deeply than she could ever recall.
Half an hour later, as the morning sun crested the walls of Valdadore, Seth and Sara lay panting upon the stone floor of the mages tower, each of their bodies glistening as sweat beaded upon their flesh. Together they curled into one another, entangling their limbs, kissing and caressing the other’s body, each of them enjoying the other’s attention fully. Having both been starved of this for too long, they remained this way for more than two hours, before Seth made as if to rise.
“Have you something better to do than me?” Sara asked with a smirk.
“Better no, but important none the less,” Seth replied, sounding disappointed.
“I know you have a lot going on,” Sara stated, a worried tone in her voice. “But it seems as if more than your responsibilities are weighing on you. I think you should rest before going back to your duties.”
“I would if I could, my love,” he replied. “But the truth is, with so much life within me, I no longer feel the need nor the desire to sleep. In truth, even if I needed to, I doubt I could at present. Garret is relying on me, his plans rely on me, and the kingdom relies upon me. I must be sure that I get everything perfect. I have to master every detail, test all of my theories, and even when every task is complete, I will continue to prepare as best as I am able. I feel as if there is something I am overlooking, something of import that I need to discover, something right under my nose, yet it remains hidden from me.”
“What do you mean?” Sara asked.
“I can’t be certain,” Seth responded. “I feel that, with all that I am discovering about my abilities, I have overlooked something vital. I hope I discover what that is before it is too late.”
“You will,” Sara said encouragingly. “If anyone can figure it out, it is my amazing husband.”
“Thank you, my love,” Seth smiled. “So what are your plans today in my absence?”
“I am going to practice what I learned last night, catch something to eat, and eagerly await seeing my husband again,” Sara replied with a grin.
Sharing one last embrace, each of them taking solace in the moment, Seth forced himself to relinquish his grasp on the woman he loved more than life itself. Without another word, Seth turned and left the hallway, to climb once again down the immense stone staircase. He had given orders to the battle mages to lend a hand in the creating of arms and armor, and by now those orders were being carried out. Seth intended to see the process for himself, and confirm if it did indeed speed up productivity like he hoped. Time was of the essence, Seth thought, as he reached the bottom of the tower. But before he could even step outside Seth felt a familiar presence. Assuring himself he looked beyond with his vision of the gods to find Sara’s sworn bodyguard, Captain Jonas, the great brown werewolf, standing just outside the mages tower.
“G’morning Jonas,” Seth greeted the werewolf. “Have I missed much?”
“No, my prince,” Jonas replied. “Orders are being carried out as you desired, though I should like to note a few things the men have discovered.”
“Carry on, Jonas,” Seth ordered.
“Our men headed west to harry King Sigrant’s forces have picked up on the scent of blood, and a lot of it, but it is not on their actual route. Would you like them to investigate?”
“Where is the scent coming from?” Seth asked.
“The north west,” Jonas replied. “It is being carried upon the wind, but the men do not believe it to be far from their current location, perhaps a couple hours.”
“Investigate with all haste,” Seth decreed, wondering what could possibly bleed enough to carry a scent that far on the wind. “Anything else, Jonas?”
“Borrik and those he leads have split into three groups, one heading south, another east, and yet another heads north. Borrik wanted me to relay to you that upon his return, he wishes his master to be ready for the beasts he will be bringing will not be easy to subdue,” Jonas answered.
“Very well, and what of our sentries?”
“They are spaced every couple of miles, easily within communication range,” Jonas answered, sending out subliminal orders to the main pack for them to follow the scent of blood. Within moments the order went down the chain of sentries, and came back. “Even now your troops turn northward to discover the source of the blood.”
“Good, Jonas,” Seth replied, happy something was working correctly. “Today you will be at my side. Keep me updated. There is much to do.”
Without so much as a nod, Jonas turned and became one with Seth’s shadow. When Seth moved, he moved. When his master stopped, so did he. Jonas was a superb soldier. He followed orders to the letter without question. He was disciplined beyond measure. In fact, Seth mused, the only reason the man had not been a Knight of Valdadore as a human was his lack of ability to control magic.
That was it! Seth knew now what it was he needed to discover, and discover it he would, just as soon as his other duties were seen to.
*****
Zorbin awoke early to break camp and found Linaya already awake. He had seen the way human males drooled over the woman, and he had to admit that even for a human she was oddly attractive, but not near enough to tempt him. Give her a larger chest, and a belly to sit her chest upon, and then perhaps she would be worth a little drool, but as she was...no chance. She seemed a nice enough girl, though she did not talk much, and this made Zorbin curious. Today he would try and discover what kept her tongue entrapped.
“G’morning, Lady Linaya,” Zorbin smiled, rolling up his sleeping mat.
“And good morning to you, Lord Zorbin,” Linaya replied sweeping her hair from her eyes.
“Did you sleep well?” asked the dwarf.
“Not at all. Adjusting to sleeping at night has proved difficult.”
“Tis a shame,” Zorbin responded. “A young lass like yerself needs rest, especially on such a rigorous journey.”
“You think me pampered?” she questioned, one eyebrow rising slightly.
“That’s not what I meant,” Zorbin replied quickly, thinking he may have pushed the wrong button. “I was just meanin’ that something seems to be eating at you, and if your soul is going to be weary, than your body should be strong.”
“Strong, weary, it makes no difference,” Linaya stated, sounding somewhat annoyed.
“What do ye mean?” Zorbin asked, checking the straps on Zanth’s armor. The great dire wolf had kept watch this night, and so had remained in his armor.
“Do you not remember our orders?” Linaya asked, but continued without awaiting a response. “We go to beg for assistance from a nation who sent none only a few weeks ago, and are not to return unless it is with aid. It is a fool’s errand, one designed to send us away to safety as those we love fight for survival. I hate it and want to turn round and go back, but I can’t because I promised.”
“Aye, I agree,” Zorbin replied in earnest. “It is unlikely that any fruit will be borne of this task, but it remains important that we should go.”
“Why?” Linaya questioned, a bit harshly.
“If we go, and the old gray beard says no, then we have lost nothing but time. If we do not go, and the graybeard would have said yes, then we have lost an ally. Better to ask and be refused than not to ask at all,” Zorbin replied. “Besides, orders is orders. If Garret tells me to sail to the moon upon a cloud, I’ll think him mad, but I will still try to do as he commanded.”
“To the moon upon a cloud, huh?” Linaya asked. “Did you just make that up, or have you been saving that one, thinking it clever?” she jested.
“Perhaps you would prefer riding a squirrel into the netherworld?” Zorbin joked in return. He was happy her mood had already lifted. She had simply needed to share what had been bothering her, and now she knew she was not alone in thinking the mission a lost cause.
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