by Toni Cox
With a strange snarl escaping her throat she led the defence of her city and nothing could stand in her way. All those Moons of training were finally paying off and the strange rage within her was giving her the energy to fight longer and harder than she had ever before.
All she saw were Vampyres and Werewolves fall to her blades, blood flying in all directions. She was vaguely aware of the Elves behind her, but strangely she felt that, if she concentrated on them too much, she might kill them too. Keeping ahead of them she sliced her way through the melee, killing everything that got in her way. She ignored the snapping teeth and the flashing metal of the Vampyres’ swords; nothing could stop her now. All she was aware of was thrusting her blades into the guts of a Werewolf, or slicing off a Vampyre’s head, or shooting an arrow through the back of the head of a Vampyre who had managed to reach the ridge. Nothing else mattered in that moment that seemed to last a lifetime, yet at the same time felt like it was over in but a flash.
“Follow me,” she yelled once all the Vampyres and Werewolves lay dead before her.
She did not dare look back at her men, for the rage she felt within had not diminished and she was afraid she might kill them all. She led the way to The Rise and then came at the Vampyres from the side as they were attacking the men that were holding their ground there. Now the numbers were more even and the attackers were dealt with quickly.
Maia struggled more and more to suppress her anger. When her brother approached, she held up her hand, shook her head and turned away from him. She took off running toward Oaken Drift, knowing her warriors would follow her, and fell onto those Vampyres still locked in battle with her people there.
It was all Regiment warriors posted here and they had dealt with the attack efficiently; only about fifteen Vampyres and eight or so Werewolves were left standing when Maia reached them. But she could feel that her people were tired and they had already been driven back towards the city. Without breaking stride, she laid into what was left of the Vampyres and, encouraged, her people attacked with renewed force. The sound of metal striking metal was overly loud in her ears and the smell of blood all around her was making her sick, but the rage kept her going even as suddenly another group of Vampyres came galloping up Oaken Drift.
Immediately she was aware that they were all Generals and even their Werewolves were larger than the ones they had been fighting. She felt the men behind her hesitate for a moment, but as she advanced with a primal scream escaping from her mouth, the men rallied behind her.
Somewhere deep in her befuddled mind she thought of the other defences of the city and how they were holding up. There were vague thoughts of her mother and father, Rothea, Aaron and the children, Silas; but all those thoughts were buried so deep within the rage that she was unable to act upon them. All she could do was attack.
The Generals fought harder and better than the others and this fight lasted longer than any of the others had. The Werewolves too were better trained and seemed to employ their own tactics instead of simply attacking. Maia found that they were as dangerous as the Vampyres themselves.
She hardly noticed the cuts and bites she sustained as she battled her way through the horde. She had singled out what seemed to be their leader; he was taller, better dressed and had an air of nobility about him that made him stand out from the crowd. Looking at him gave her the strangest feeling and all she wanted to do was kill him.
She dodged a sword as it swung by her head, received a slash to her arm as she raced past another and got bitten on the legs by a Werewolf. She stumbled for a moment, then cut off the Werewolf’s head and ran on. She hacked and sliced at everything that got in her way and finally he stood before her. One quick jab and his Werewolf collapsed beneath him. The look of surprise on the General’s face gave her a perverse kind of pleasure.
“You,” he said in passable Elven.
“Dje,” Maia replied in Nayleran.
She wanted to kill him so badly, but through the fog of her rage she wondered how he knew who she was. She hesitated just long enough to give him an opening to attack her. At the last moment, she lifted her Twin Blades and caught his sword in the cross her blades made before her face. The impact jarred her arms and she was suddenly very aware of the terrible pain in her right shoulder.
The General’s face was only a hand’s breadth from her face and she could smell his rancid breath. He bared his teeth and she saw saliva dribble from his fangs. Disgusted, she pushed him away and took up a defensive position. Behind her the battle continued, but it was more like muffled sounds in the background as she concentrated on the Vampyre in front of her. They circled each other; well aware of the danger the other posed. Then they came together again; their blades twirling, blocking, slashing; always attacking, but neither giving ground.
The longer she looked at him, the more she hated him. There was something strangely familiar about him, but she had little time to think as he attacked relentlessly. He seemed to have the strength of ten men and the stamina of a dragon. Maia felt herself weakening with every blow she blocked. Her armour had protected her from most of the blows she had received, but she knew she had a cut on her forearm that was bleeding profusely and she was now aware of all the puncture wounds from the bites she had received. Her body hurt, but her mind would not give up. Grinding her teeth, she pushed back, putting all her hatred for the man into her attack. He thought he had beaten her but, as she now attacked with renewed force, she laughed at the surprised look on his face.
One step forward; slash; another step forward; stab; another step; cut. The General was forced to retreat under her onslaught and in her fury, she was unaware that all around them everything had gone quiet. On and on she drove him; cutting him, stabbing him and at one point she thought she might have bitten him.
Finally, he sank to his knees and she stood over him with her blades to his throat. They were both panting and he looked up at her defiantly. The hatred within her wanted to ram those blades down into his body, but something stopped her. They stood like this for what seemed like ages.
“Jaik, bind him,” she called over her shoulder.
Immediately four men, including Jaik, came forward and surrounded the downed General. Maia kept her Twin Blades pointing at his throat the entire time until Jaik gave her the signal that he was secure.
“Take him away before I change my mind,” she hissed.
Jaik nodded to his men and the General was led away. Maia watched as the men led him down the path to the city. There was a place within the Hall of the Guardians where they would keep him until someone made a decision on what to do with him. Maia wanted to question him on how he knew who she was, but right now all she wanted to do was sleep.
She felt her body start to tremble and a cold sweat broke out on her forehead. The world spun before her eyes and then her vision dimmed and she was left standing in the dark. Then the earth tilted up beneath her and the last thing she remembered was her brother calling her name.
He was so cold and he was so tired. He could barely open his eyes to see the stars above him. He figured it to be about two hours to sunrise. Now that he was awake, the smell of blood and Vampyre was strong in his nose and the memories came flooding back. He remembered only that about fifty of them had escaped and had probably managed to get through to Shadow Hall, including that vile General. He knew the fate of the other fifty, even if he had no recollection of it; the carnage around him spoke of what had transpired here.
He tried to move, but everything hurt. He knew he had to find shelter; he could not stay here out in the open amongst the dead. Using what energy he had left, he lifted himself onto his elbows and then dragged himself forward. His progress was slow and painful. After an hour of struggling, he lay still again and briefly drifted off to sleep. When he woke again there was a faint glow on the eastern horizon; morning was only minutes away. He tried again to lift himself, but his muscles had become stiff and the crusts on his wounds bust open, making him gasp.
&nbs
p; He looked around; about thirty paces from him lay what was left of the Vampyres and their hounds, a hundred paces to the south was a small forest and about fifty paces to the north was a small scattering of brambles. He needed to find shelter so he could heal. Considering his options, he made a decision. He did not bother with taking off his clothes; he had no energy for it; and then changed into the wolf. The process hurt more than he had expected, but the wolf was strong and had a much higher pain threshold. He struggled to his feet and then licked his injured paws. He had decided to make for the brambles; they were closer than the forest and he could crawl beneath them, sheltered by their thorns.
Dreading every step, he limped forward. The last of the clothes fell off him as he walked, but he barely noticed it. He kept his eyes fixed on the brambles and only concentrated on getting there. The longer it took him, the more inviting their shelter became. He dragged himself the last few paces and then crawled on his belly until he was deep beneath the thorny branches.
The sun had risen, but it was blissfully shady amongst the brambles. He spent a small amount of time licking some of his wounds, but then his tiredness took over. Resting his head on his paws, he finally fell into a deep sleep.
“We have just received a bird that Alea Yll has been attacked,” she heard Jaik say.
“Aye,” Silas replied, “I am not surprised. How did they fare?”
“It was a fairly small army, only three hundred, and the people of Alea Yll have managed to fight them off.”
“I am glad to hear it.”
There was silence then for a short while and Maia listened to the small sounds of the fire crackling in the fireplace. Slowly she became aware of other people in the vicinity and, reaching out, she sensed the Eläm of Rothea, Aaron, Jaik, Wolf, Luke, Jasmin, and Silas. They were in Silas’ cave and she was lying on a bed, covered by blankets.
“How is she doing?” Jaik finally asked.
“Weak,” Silas said, “but getting better. The stronger she gets, the faster she will be able to heal herself.”
Maia tried to concentrate on her body to find out what was wrong with her. She could feel the bandages on her arms and shoulders, but was unable to determine what lay beneath them. The effort proved too much for her and she felt herself drift off to sleep again.
The next time she woke up it was to the smell of stew bubbling over the fire. It made her realise how hungry she was. She tried to move, but it hurt so much. When she moaned, the people within the cave stirred and Silas and Luke were immediately by her side.
“Easy now,” Silas said and laid a hand on her forehead.
Maia coughed. Luke held a cup to her mouth and she drank. It was water. Wolf came to lick her hand, which was sticking out from the blanket.
“Can you move?” Silas asked, deep concern in his grey eyes.
“I…” Maia cleared her throat; it felt like she had not spoken in days. “I think so.”
Silas nodded to Luke and he immediately assisted her into a sitting position, piling pillows behind her back.
“You have been asleep for a while,” Silas said. “I have cleaned all your injuries and the cut on your arm is healing well.” Silas looked down for a moment and she knew the next thing he would tell her would be bad news. “You have several bite marks, which have become infected. They are stubborn to heal and I have done what I could. You need to regain some of your strength so you can see to them. Do you think you are ready to eat something?”
Maia briefly closed her eyes and checked her body. This time she was able to feel all the places where she was wounded and she was horrified at the extent of her injuries. She knew she did not have the strength now to heal herself; Silas was right, she needed to eat.
“Yes, please,” she said, a weak smile on her face.
Luke immediately rose to his feet and walked over to the fireplace where he filled a bowl with stew. He then went to cut some bread and then returned to Maia’s side. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he gently fed her the stew spoonful by spoonful. There was only love and concern in his eyes and she did not mind being taken care of by him. While she ate, Silas checked her bandages, removing some as he went along.
“Thank you, Luke,” she said when they were finished.
“How do you feel now?” he asked.
“A little stronger. May I have some more water please?”
Reaching for the cup, Luke helped her drink. The clear liquid soothed her throat and helped to invigorate her.
“What day is it?”
“You have slept for two days and you had us all worried,” Aaron said as he walked across the cave towards them.
Luke made space for his father and Aaron took a seat on the edge of her bed. Silas retreated to the fireplace and added a log to the fire.
“We have all heard about your heroics,” Aaron said, taking her hand, “but I should tell you that the point of learning to fight is to avoid getting bitten or cut to bits.” He grinned.
She frowned; she remembered little of what had happened. It all seemed like some half-forgotten dream.
“I do not remember much,” she said.
“The way the warriors tell the story is that you alone took on the attacking Vampyres and that nothing could stand in your way. You single-handedly won us the battle.”
“I doubt that,” she said. “I know the men were fighting with me.”
“Then you should hear Jaik tell it. He was there and saw it with his own eyes. And they still have that General you captured locked away in his cell.”
Again, Maia frowned; the thought of the General made bile rise to her throat. She had wanted to kill him, but something had stopped her. She wanted to ask Aaron if the General had said anything, but she knew that Jaik or her father would not share such information with him.
“Are you still in pain?” Aaron asked, gently smoothing away her frown with his thumb.
“A little, but I will be all right.”
“She just needs some more rest, Dad,” Luke cut in. “She should be right as rain in a few days.”
“I will leave you to your healing then,” Aaron agreed. “But I will be back tonight to check on you,” he promised and kissed Maia on the forehead.
He turned and walked away before Maia could react. Luke had a smile on his face and Silas had his back turned. Had Aaron just kissed her? She looked questioningly at Luke, but he only shrugged his shoulders. Aaron was getting a little too confident for her liking.
“I am going to refill the water bottles,” Luke announced and, gathering up said bottles, made his way out of the cave.
“You have become somewhat of a legend to our warriors,” Silas said as he walked over and then re-bound one of the bandages he had taken off her earlier. “I wish I could have seen it.”
Maia watched Silas fasten the bandage to her arm. There was something in his voice that bothered her. Was it concern? Or disbelief? She could not tell.
“What is it, Silas? Is something wrong?”
Her old mentor looked at her and laid a reassuring hand on her cheek.
“Just because I do not understand it, does not make it wrong. Something happened to you out there and it helped save us all. It was a good thing. The only part that worries me is the toll it has taken on you. You have been unconscious for almost two days, one of which you spent in a fever. Everyone has been so worried about you.”
As if on cue, Jaik and her mother entered the cave.
“The princess awakens,” Jaik called in his usual playful voice, but his eyes were full of concern.
They both knelt before her bed and her mother stroked her hair.
“Aaron says you are feeling better,” Malyn said. “You gave us quite a scare.”
“I am all right now, Mother,” she smiled at her. “I have eaten and I feel a lot stronger already.”
“I don’t think anyone will ever doubt your strength again after your display out there,” Jaik said and gently cuffed her on the arm.
“Jaik,” her mother a
dmonished, “now is not the time. Let her heal before you talk of war again.”
Jaik winked at her.
“Malyn is right,” Silas said. “Maia needs her rest now so she can heal the last bit of infection in her body. Luke is just fetching some water, so we can wash Maia. Why don’t you come back this evening? She should be on her feet by then.”
Malyn hesitated for a moment, reluctant to leave her. Then she kissed her on the forehead and stroked her cheek.
“We will see you later then,” she said, squeezed Maia’s hand, and then rose to leave.
“Until later, my brave sister,” Jaik breathed before he, too, kissed her on the forehead.
Maia watched them leave. By the entrance her mother turned once more and waved to her.
“Ugh,” she said as they were out of sight. “Why is everyone kissing me today?”
Silas chuckled.
“I do not like being sick,” she said and adamantly sat up.
Silas was immediately by her side, but she waved him away.
“No, enough of this.”
She threw the blankets off her and then started to unwrap all her bandages. Silas did not stop her, but watched her in silence. Maia was only wearing short undergarments to cover the most necessary parts; the rest of her body was covered in bandages. By the time she had removed them all, she was almost naked. Horrified she looked down at herself. Her midriff had been protected well by her new armour and not even the Werewolves’ sharp teeth had been able to penetrate there. But her arms and legs were full of puncture wounds, many of them still red and infected. Now that she was aware of them, she noticed how much they hurt. The cut on her arm was clean and Silas had stitched it closed.
She swung her legs off the bed and tested her balance. Her head was steady and, having eaten, felt strong enough to heal herself. But even if that had not been the case, she would have tried anyway; she did not enjoy being treated like a fragile doll.
Closing her eyes, she focussed her energy inward and sought out her injuries. She started with her arm and as she knitted the fibres back together, the stitching came undone and fell to the floor. She was vaguely aware of Silas bending to pick them up. Next, she concentrated on the bite marks. She had at least a hundred of them and she now realised that, although they were slightly infected, they were fairly shallow; her leathers had protected her after all. One by one she drove the infection out and then closed the wound; the skin perfectly smooth where just before there had been a hole.
