by James Dale
"I would?" the stallion beamed.
"Yes, you would."
"I am not sure this is such a good idea," the king mused, considering the request. "If anything should happen..." He left the thought unfinished. If anything should happen to Bra ‘Adan’s Heir, there would not be much point in continuing the journey to Elvendale, save deciding how to endure the coming darkness of Graith's triumph.
"I'll take good care of him sire," Callahan promised.
"Very well," Theros nodded reluctantly. "But stay within sight of the main body...your grace."
"Of course," Jack waved, falling in beside Sergeant Callahan. "That's a fine steed you've got there, sergeant," he remarked as they made their way to the front of the column, collecting Callahan's squad as they went. "What's his name?"
"Dagga, your grace," the young man replied, glowing with pride at the compliment from someone who rode upon a Val'anna.
"Wind?" Jack smiled, translating the Ailfar word. "Would you be interested in proving that?"
"Do you jest sir?" Callahan asked. "Dagga is indeed a fine mount, but he could not hope to match your Val'anna."
"I'll give you odds of course."
"What...kind of odds?"
"Say...ten lengths?
"And the stakes?"
"The watch tonight?" Jack suggested. "If Dagga is no farther behind after a...mile? I'll stand your shift. That goes for your men as well. Same odds. Stay within ten lengths for a mile and my Lions will take their turn at watch while they sleep nice and comfy by the fire."
"And if we lose?"
"I can beat these ponies easily," Eaudreuil snorted.
"I know you can boy," Jack beamed, "but we're making friends here."
"What makes you think I want to be friends with these nags?"
"Because there's an extra apple in it for you?"
"Why didn't you say so," the roan said, brightening.
"If you lose sergeant," Jack replied, "your men stand the Lion's watch until we reach Elvendale. Fair enough?"
Callahan considered the offer, looking first at the Val'anna then up at the cloudy sky. There was more rain coming tonight. "Done," he grinned.
"Whenever you're ready then sergeant," Jack nodded.
"On my mark," Callahan said, tightening his grip on Dagga's reigns. "One...two...THREE!"
Eaudreuil leapt forward with a bound, Dagga a split second behind him, followed closely by the remaining horsemen of Callahan's squad. The mounts of the Dragon Guard stayed with the Val'anna for the first quarter mile or more, their riders’ whooping with delight. It had been a long, boring two days for everyone.
"This is embarrassing," Eaudreuil snorted and began to surge ahead.
"Ten lengths!" Jack laughed, leaning forward in the saddle. "Ten lengths or no apple!"
"Two apples!" the stallion countered. "These two-legs won't be very friendly standing watch in the rain."
"You wouldn't?"
"Now it is three!"
"Oh...hell. Okay. Three apples you damn extortionist!"
The Val'anna slowed his pace, beaming his satisfaction.
Jack kept close watch on the following riders, ensuring they did not fall farther behind than ten lengths. When they had traveled the agreed mile, he eased back on Eaudreuil's reigns and brought the galloping roan to a trot, allowing the guardsmen to catch up.
"Looks like the Lions will be pulling double shifts tonight sergeant," Braedan sighed in mock defeat when the others pulled even with him.
"You held him back your grace," Callahan laughed accusingly.
"On my honor! You won fair and square," Jack vowed, placing hand over heart. "Eaudreuil must have gotten lazy cooped up in Count Arthol's stables."
"How can I live with this shame?" the Val'anna moaned. "Those apples had better be good Horse-brother."
"Sergeant Callahan!" one of the troopers cried excitedly, interrupting their banter. "Wolf tracks!"
"My god!" another hissed. "They're everywhere!"
Six swords were drawn in unison as Jack slipped quickly from the saddle to examine the rain softened surface of the Elfway.
"They're wolf tracks all right," he confirmed grimly. "Fifty pair at least. Between six and twelve hours old."
"These other prints," Callahan said, kneeling down beside him. "They are..."
"grim'Hiru," Jack spat the word like a curse.
"I think you should rejoin the company your grace."
"I think we'd all better sergeant."
"grim'Hiru? You're sure?" Theros asked Braedan when they came galloping back.
"No doubt about it."
"Umhara tribe by the look of them sire," Sergeant Callahan added. "Or perhaps Ubeki." Both were from the Gothgor Mountains one hundred fifty miles to the north. Both were notorious for their savagery, even for beast-men.
"Two hundred you say?" Theros muttered.
"A Judas Bloody lot of them anyway," Jack nodded. "Moving south...southeast. Less than half a day old."
"Marten."
"Right away," the captain saluted. "Resume point Callahan. Lieutenant Eharn, take the left flank. Sergeant Jussain, take the right."
"The Lions will watch the rear," Kirk assured him.
"All right Dragons!" du'Gail shouted, loosening his sword in its sheath. "Looks like it's time to earn your pay!"
"What do you think Marten?" the king asked when they were moving once more. "Should we make for Goldenbriar Gate? If we travel through the night we should be there by first light."
"That we would," the captain agreed. "But truth be known sire, I would not relish encountering two hundred Ubeki with a pack at night. Not with this cursed cloud cover. There is a place not far from here, only a few leagues away if my memory serves, where we could quarter the company tonight. A cave...at the end of a bowl shaped valley formed by three hills."
"I know the place," Theros nodded. "Very well Marten. We will make for the cave and continue to Goldenbriar Gate at dawn."
The place Captain du'Gail remembered was set back off the Elfway about half a mile. Three hills as he had said, with a U-shaped bowl in the center measuring about one hundred yards across, and a shallow cave set back at the rear of the valley large enough to shelter the entire company, though just barely. They reached it not long before sundown, or what passed for sundown behind the heavy cloud cover and immediately set about establishing a hasty camp.
"One squad on the ridge?" Company Sergeant Vad'dreuil suggested, pointing to the crest of the center-most hill. "With another guarding the entrance to the bowl?"
"See to it," Captain du'Gail nodded. "Rotate them every two hours. And have the rest of the men sleep in shifts. Half awake at all times. In full armor."
"Aye sir," Vad'dreuil saluted, then glanced at the quickly darkening sky and muttered under his breath. "It's gonna be a long, flaming night."
Jack spent his turn at watch mounted on Eaudreuil patrolling the entrance to the bowl. With him were Erlwin, Brian and Kaegel, as well as half of Sergeant Callahan's squad, who would have to wait for another night to collect on their bet. Their shift passed uneventfully, two hours of drizzle and dark and nothing moving but the wind. When they were relived morning was still some time off, and he sent the men off to the dry, relative comfort of the cave for what remained of the night. Jack however, chose to stay out in the open with the picketed horses. Though it would be wet and miserable out in the open, the cave's interior, even with its fire, reminded him too much of the dungeon's beneath Gorthiel.
Throwing a blanket down on the damp ground, Jack drifted off into a fitful sleep. Only minutes later it seemed, Eaudreuil was nudging him frantically.
"Don't tell me its morning already?" he mumbled irritably, pulling his wrap tighter around his shoulders.
"Horse-brother!" the stallion beamed, his voice exploding in Braedan's head like a thunder-clap. "They are coming!"
The force of the Val'anna's warning slapped Jack fully awake. Pushing his thoughts beyond the encircling ridge, he wa
s instantly assaulted by the overwhelming presence of hundreds of wolves!
"Stay here!" he commanded. Flinging off his cloak and drawing his sword, he headed for the cave at a run.
The trooper on fire watch jumped to his feet with a clatter of armor as Jack appeared suddenly out of the night.
"Is something wrong?" he stammered.
"Up!" he barked in reply. "Everyone up!"
"What goes on?" someone asked from the rear of the cave. Theros?
"Wolves!" Jack cried. An instant later, a single, piercing howl broke the silence of the night. It was quickly joined by a chilling symphony that sent a cold shiver of dread down his spine.
"Out!" the king commanded. "Out of the cave!"
"Take brands from the fire!" someone shouted. du'Gail or Vad'dreuil.
The landscape of dark, sleeping forms was transformed instantly into a cacophonous rattle of armor and drawing swords. The guardsmen rushed from the cave, grabbing flaming brands as they ran, emerging into the night to find the squad on watch on the ridge line above scrambling down the hill.
"Report!" du'Gail demanded as one of the men slid to a stop before him.
"Wolves cap'n!" guardsman cried.
"I know that man! How many?"
"Too many to count!"
"Sergeant Herran!" Company Sergeant Vad'dreuil bellowed. "Remember who you are man!"
Herran staggered a step backwards as if the stinging rebuke had been a physical blow. He snapped to attention and rendered a crisp salute, a Dragon Guard once more. "Three...four hundred! Maybe more. They're swarming up the hill in waves."
He had no sooner finished his report when the thick clouds overhead broke for the first time in two days and the light of an almost full moon came spilling through.
"Look!" a trooper cried, pointing to the ridge above with the tip of a wavering sword. Suddenly visible in the glow of the nocturnal orb, hundreds of eyes reflected back the moon's light with silvery menace.
As the soldiers stood mesmerized, the eyes began to descend, the dark forms behind them slowly taking shape as they made their way cautiously down the hill. So many eyes! So much...hate! Visions of slaughter, the merciless...savage...collective mind of the pack filled Jack's head. It was all he could do to push the thoughts away and throw up a protective wall around his mind before the visions overwhelmed him.
One trooper, either braver than the rest or maddened with fear, ran forward and hurled his brand at the advancing pack. It arched through the dark night, a spinning glow of red against the blackness, to impact with a shower of sparks on the hillside a few feet from the lead wolf. The beast shied away from the sputtering flame, but when it quickly fizzled dead on the carpet of damp grass, the wolf resumed its cautious advance, growling low and dangerous.
"To the horses!" Theros shouted, his commanding voice echoing throughout the bowl.
The hypnotic spell broken, the guardsmen turned and sprinted for their mounts. Once in the saddle, they wheeled to face the slowly advancing pack, now only a few feet from the valley floor. For a long heartbeat, the two groups faced each other in tense silence, then the lead wolf, a great beast three feet tall at the shoulders and weighing as much as a full-grown man, raised its head to the moon and howled. Eaudreuil answered with a challenging neigh, rearing to paw the air with his hooves. With a howl of fury, the pack attacked.
"For Brydium!" Theros cried, whirling Dragonslayer above his head as Valkyr bolted forward to meet the surging wave of fur and fang.
"Brydium!" his men roared as one, for a second their voices drowning out the deafening howl. "For the king and Brydium!"
Snarling with rage, the pack leader leapt for Valkyr's throat. The trained war-horse met it with lowered head, knocking the beast to the ground where it was trampled beneath iron shod hooves. Another wolf launched itself at Theros, but a mighty sweep of Dragonslayer sheared the animal in half like it was made of air. Then Jack was at the king's side, his sword a blinding flash of silver that sent blood and fur flying with each stroke.
There was no strategy for this type of combat, only desperate men encased in mail and plate, struggling against a roiling sea of tooth and claw. Horses screamed as snapping jaws ripped through unguarded flesh. Men screamed as mounts collapsed beneath them, hamstrung and helpless. Wolves howled as sharp steel cut through flesh and bone. It was a nightmare of blood and death.
The tide of battle swept Jack near the low, overhanging lip of the cave and a leaping wolf struck him full in the chest, hurling him from Eaudreuil's back. He landed with a crash, his sword flying from his grasp and the wolf lying heavy atop his chest. Slavering jaws snapped only inches from his face as he struggled to hold the beast from his throat with one hand while the other searched frantically for Bkomor's dagger strapped to his calf. With a wild cry, he plunged the grim'Hiru blade deep into the beast's chest. Again! Again! And again, until it finally collapsed with a whimpering sigh.
Pushing the animal away, Jack rolled over onto his hands and knees only to find himself staring into yellow eyes hungry for death. Crouching with its front paws on the blade of his fallen sword, the wolf curled back its lips in a bestial grin, then sprang with a snarl. He raised a mail-shrouded arm, already feeling sharp teeth sinking into his flesh, but before the wolf could reach him it yelped in surprise as it was driven to the ground by an arrow suddenly sprouting from its side!
It was only then Jack became aware of thundering hooves charging down the hill above him. In disbelief, he looked up in time to see a white horse, glowing like a ghost in the silver moonlight, go sailing over his head. On its back was an archer dressed in brown and green, golden hair steaming behind him like wings. With unearthly speed, the archer notched an arrow, loosed, and was reaching again for the quiver on his back before his mount touched the ground. The horse skidded to a halt and the archer calmly sighted his bow and loosed once more at a wolf bearing down on a horseless guardsman. His back turned, the man did not see the beast tumble dead at his feet.
The golden-haired archer nodded with satisfaction at his aim, then sensing Jack's gaze, turned to regard him. They studied each other, green eyes locked with green eyes, as more riders flooded into the bowl, each firing arrows with deadly precision as they came. Finally, the archer smiled.
"Aydayon Elo'hoyas," he bowed. "Have we interrupted your sport? There seemed to be enough for all."
Jack found himself grinning foolishly at the archer. The Ailfar archer! "Aydayon Elo'hoyas," he replied flawlessly in the elfin tongue. "No. You were welcome to him."
The elf's laugh was deep and musical, like the ringing of bells. But he sobered as he took in Jack's bloodstained clothes. "Rest kinsman. My brothers and I will pursue the fight from here."
Chapter Twenty
Goldenbriar Gate
With the arrival of the Ailfar archers, Jack counted fifty at least before he lost track of their constantly growing number, the tide of the battle quickly turned. Strengthened by the sudden appearance of the elves and their shower of arrows, Theros' Dragons Guard redoubled their efforts, and the swiftly dwindling pack, their leader dead and scores more dying with each passing second, turned tail and fled the bowl. Leaving the Ailfar to pursue the fleeing wolves, the men of Brydium set about dispatching those beasts which were not yet dead and rushing to the aid of their wounded comrades.
Miraculously, only eleven guardsmen lost their lives during the brief, violent struggle. Two dozen more had suffered wounds of varying degree, but only two of those were life threatening. Another miracle, all things considered. Sadly, one of the fallen was Kaegel. Jack found the Lion lying in the center of the valley, his head cradled tenderly in Kirk Vanar's lap. The young captain wept unashamedly as he struggled in vain to staunch the flow of dark, black blood seeping from a ragged tear in Kaegel's throat.
As Jack fell to his knees beside Vanar, Kaegel's eyes fluttered open, glassy and pain filled. "My...lord?" the guardsman whispered.
"Quiet," Jack said soothingly, tears welling in his
own eyes at the sight of the terrible wound. "You've got to...you've got to conserve your strength. We’ll get you patched up in no time."
"Nay my lord," Kaegel coughed weakly. "Already I feel...the cold hand of...death."
"No!" Jack insisted. "Kaegel, you will not die! That's an order! You hear me!”
"I...dearly...wanted to see Golden...briar," Kaegel sighed. "My lord...will you...my body...I...don't want to be buried... here."
"I will take you to Ail'itharain," Jack promised, tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Thank...you," Kaegel sighed. "Now I can...can..." Deep, rattling coughs racked the guardsman. Sensing the end, Kaegel grasped Jack's hand and held it desperately, "Quickly...lord. Bless me...and send...my soul...to heaven."
"Rest in peace Kaegel Onnade of Thonbor." Jack intoned, leaning over to kiss the Lion's brow. "Rest knowing this," Braedan leaned down and whispered in his ear.
The guardsman's eyes snapped open, for a brief second the pain of his wounds forgotten. "You...are..."
"I am,” Jack nodded.
Kaegel smiled weakly, and with a final shudder, expelled his last breath.
Jack released the young Lion's limp hand, placing it reverently on his still chest, then reached up and closed his unseeing eyes. His touch lingering tenderly for an instant on the now peaceful face, then he crossed himself. "Hail Mary, Full of grace," he whispered. "Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death."
As the rest of the Lions gathered around their fallen comrade to pay their final respects, a pair of the Ailfar archers came galloping back into the bowl, heading straight for the opening of the cave where Theros and Captain du'Gail were busy bringing order to their troops.
"Kirk..."
"Go," the young captain said, wiping the blood from Kaegel's face with the hem of his cloak.
"Go m'Lord," Cyran nodded. "We will see to him."
"I'll be back as soon as I can," Jack promised. Rubbing a shaking hand across his face to wipe away tears, he stood and headed for the cave. He arrived just after the two Ailfar reigned their mounts before Theros and Captain du'Gail.
