As expected, Bendor grimly stated, “overwhelmin' numbers, laddie. They hink tae overrin us quickly an' end thes by sheer weecht ay their army. Runner! Teel McKnight tae focus th' eastern artillery oan their left flenk!”
A soldier snapped to and dashed away, dodging the archers firing at the approaching enemy, who had just reached the trenches before the castle. They were in range for more focused shots and John reached for the quiver that had been placed by his leg and drew another arrow. He sighted once more and nailed a goblin just as it was cresting the ridge of the first trench. It sprawled forward, sliding along the dirt, another body falling down on top of it.
Enemy archers had begun firing at the walls and he saw quite a few soar overhead. There were screams from behind him as they suffered their first casualties of the battle to come.
“Water bearers watch fur fires!” Bendor hollered over his shoulder as flaming arrows streaked across the sky.
Over the last trench marched a large group of orcs. Shields were raised over their heads and he knew what it was they were protecting. “Ram!” he told his comrade, knowing that his arrows were useless in deterring the approaching enemy, but firing at them anyways.
“Hot oil ready!” Bendor bellowed to his left at the soldiers boiling cauldrons just above the drawbridge. How were they were planning to get across the moat in order to hit the thick drawbridge?
To his horror, he quickly got his answer.
Goblins slithered forth in packs, drawing the corpses of their fallen comrades between them. He sighted on a pair of them and fired quickly upon the exposed creatures. But as one fell, three more swept forward and picked up the fresh corpse to carry along with the first. The bodies were then thrown into the moat before the front wall, their own bodies adding to the pile as their archers picked them off.
The shielded orcs had halted as one, waiting patiently as more bodies were thrown into the bloodied moat before them. Ladders had begun to appear from amongst the enemy ranks and they were slowly rising towards the outer wall.
“Drive those goblins back!” he commanded the nearest archers as Bendor hollered for the first legion to gather where they would land. He sighted on the goblins dragging corpses forward, but it was a losing battle, as any he killed just added to growing bridge of the dead. What was the answer? To stop killing them?
“Oil ower th’ side!” Bendor hollered at the men to their left, and as another cauldron was placed on the small fire pit, the first was dumped on the pile of corpses below. “Archers, lecht it up!”
Flaming arrows flew into the now oiled carcasses and it blazed to life with a gigantic roar and intense heat; blasting his face like a furnace. The smell of charred flesh began to rise; the stench making him gag. However, the enemy response was to throw more bodies on the infernal, adding to the fuel, but also partially smothering the flames.
It had grown large enough that the orcs felt confident stepping forward once more. Shields static and held firm, they began their sure steps over the flaming corpses, ignoring the heat raging around their legs.
They were insane!
“Mair hot oil laddies!” Bendor ordered. An arrow flew near his head and he was forced to duck behind the merlons for protection. “Teel th' gatehooses tae focus oan drivin' those orcs back!”
Oil splashed across the shields of the orcs below, most of it splashing into the moat on the sides. Though intended to drench the attackers wielding the ram, it instead slid off, only partially dripping through provided gaps. There was an earth-shattering thump as the ram was slammed into their gate.
“Runner! Teel General Cox tae hae his men ready!” Bendor hollered. The infantry general had pikemen stationed just behind the gates, ready to defend should the attackers break the drawbridge and portcullis.
Then something staggering happened. The oil that had spread along the moat had caught fire from the flaming goblin corpses and the increased infernal snaked up towards the orcs above; cooking them from below.
One of the shields fell away, as its bearer fell sideways into the moat, engulfed in flames. Cheers rose from his men and the archers took advantage of the gap to shoot a couple more free of the battering ram. The soldiers manning the oil did not need to be told what to do next; they poured another cauldron over the side, adding fuel to the already roaring fire.
Grimly, he inhaled the black smoke of burnt flesh and watched as the orcs below were completely engulfed; tendrils of flame throwing sparks into the sky, the ram sliding free and rolling into the moat at their sides. Shields dropped, and the orcs made one last ditch effort to save their lives by diving into the water to quench the flames.
A ladder struck on his right and he focused on the ascending goblins instead. Though they fell many, the number of attackers rising towards them was an endless sea of evil. Archers shifted sideways from the ladder, continuing to fire on those climbing towards them, as soldiers stepped forward to meet the oncoming horde.
He put his bow down and drew his sword once more. A holler from his left pulled his attention and movement caught his eye in the distance; the cavalry had begun strafing the army’s flank. Howls of rage erupted from below and part of the enemy army shifted east in their direction.
He couldn’t think on that at the moment; the goblins were on the walls!
Stepping towards the nearest ladder, he was next to his men as the first vile creature leapt onto the battlements. It was quickly dispatched and thrown back over the side, hopefully taking some of its comrades with it. His shield was impacted by enemy arrows and he held it high as he cleaved the next attacker with a downward swipe, another soldier piercing the goblin’s torso with a quick thrust.
“Runner! Third division tae reinforce th' left dyke!” Bendor bellowed behind him, as he fought off the next pair of attackers.
Sweat was dripping into his eye, his arm strained from the constant firing, and now parrying attacks with his sword. His shield suddenly shoved him sideways as a goblin leapt from the ladder to the merlons on his left and came at him with an axe. He brought his arm down, then thrust the shield outward, knocking the creature back. A soldier stepped from behind him and dispatched the enemy. Backing up a bit, he allowed a less decreased field of sight, watching for attacks on multiple sides now.
There was a loud crack from beyond the wall and the goblin that had been about to jump at them fell swiftly out of sight. “My Lord!” one of the soldiers jerked his way. “The ladder snapped with their weight!”
“Don’t stand there gawking; go help the others!” he snapped at the man, who’s brief look of victory was wiped away. The other soldiers around him were already rushing along the battlements west; sweeping towards their battling commanders beyond.
He turned back to the dwarven general, resting his throbbing arm and catching his breath.
“Longer th’ ladder, less weecht it can hauld afair snappin’,” Bendor smiled at him, watching the scrambling enemy army. The waves had shifted away from the gatehouse, fortunately, offering the defenders free reign on picking off their targets.
The rear of the army appeared to be flooding east, probably chasing the strafing cavalry. Enemy horse roared into view and added their own cavalry to the pursuit. In nervous anticipation, he wished Roland’s men luck and turned to an approaching runner.
“Sire!” the man yelled, drawing Bendor’s attention as well.
Before the runner could relay his message, howls erupted from the enemy horde, and he jerked his head to the right. Silver armored horsemen thundered around the eastern wall riding straight into the stretched enemy lines. Roland’s cavalry had drawn them far enough out that those streaming in-between were not prepared for this newest attack on their forces. Swords flashed in the afternoon light as the riders ploughed through the enemy ranks, bellows of a familiar language sweeping over the outraged cries of the goblins.
Out of breath, the runner hovered by their side, watching the new massacre unfold. “Word from General Brasten, knights bearing the colors of Forlorn seen ridin
g towards the enemy!”
“Nae jobby, laddie,” Bendor muttered with joy as he watched the attacker’s lines begin to break. The scope of the new threat broke the morale of the enemy army as they began streaming away in fear. The whips of the gargoyles did little to rally the fleeing goblins and orcs and they were forced to sound a withdrawal.
Men along the battlements cheered at the sound, their brief victory thundering across the castle grounds. He felt a wave of relief hit as he watched the elven knights chase down the enemy; driving them further away. To the left rode Roland’s cavalry, swinging around and joining their new brothers in arms in driving a wedge forward.
“At bludy rockit,” Bendor growled, staring at their horsemen sweeping forward.
He squinted and saw that the rider leading the charge was wearing armor similar to his generals and realized that Roland had personally seen to the orders he’d been given.
His dwarven general glowered up at him. “Baith ay ye ur gonnae gezz a heart lat at afair thes is dain. Ye refused tae lae an' noo 'at damn divit is it thaur insteid ay commandin' th' remainder ay his men tae join in! Runner!” Bendor hollered, startling the man standing right next to him. “Order McKnight tae concentrate oan th' stragglers, 'en cease altogether when it ay range. Nae use wastin' ammunition.”
As the man rushed off, he turned to another awaiting soldier, “tell General Cox he’s to lower the drawbridge and clear that moat. I want it emptied of those corpses and the fire contained! And get that damn ram out of there, no use leaving it to be picked back up again.”
“Yes Sir!” the man bowed, then ran behind them and down the stairs.
He could hear the great machines begin to churn and the drawbridge lowered seconds later. “You don’t think they’ll regroup and renew their attack?” he asked, slipping his shield onto his back and sheathing his sword.
“Nae until they ken fur sure hoo mony reinforcements jist arrived tae aid us. They’ll hae tae ref'rm an' bide,” Bendor told him with satisfaction, watching as the riders broke off pursuit and began a measured march towards the awaiting drawbridge. “Archers! Forage fur weapons an’ usable ammunition!” he ordered the gawking men around them. “We’re gonnae need everythin’ we can gie!”
He couldn’t help but smile; they had survived the first wave.
“Don’t gang thinkin' canty thooghts yit, laddie, thes is jist beginnin'. 'Main 'en, let’s gang meit uir new arrivals,” the dwarf scolded him, gruffly lurching off the stool and heading for the stone stairs to the gatehouse below.
He paused briefly to watch as the enemy retreated.
Bendor was right, it was just the beginning, and the enemy had plenty more to sacrifice in further attacks. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel a little hope as he watched the elves riding their way, the standard whipping in the wind.
Forlorn had answered their call!
Chapter 19
Reprieve
I
Dusk was upon them as Tristan packed his armor into his saddlebags, preparing to camp for the night. Having regrouped with the others upon reaching the base of Saspe’s Peak, they had quickly mounted up and began their journey south. Melissa had taken Merlin’s horse and ridden near the front of their group, largely keeping to herself. It was understood that they could come under attack at any moment, so most of the journey had been in silence, everyone tense, eyes and ears searching for any evidence that the enemy was near.
They had broken from the forest an hour earlier; the large peak looming to the north, yet distant enough that it gave some impression of distance between them and the enemy horde that constantly seemed to be right on their heels.
Token was busy building a fire to prepare dinner and he watched as the others set about finding fuel for the sparking flames.
A howl erupted in the distance and he forced a smile. Kylee had disappeared shortly after their descent, rushing off to enjoy her reunion with her wolf companion. Now he watched as they trotted into view, her white hair flopping behind her in the fading twilight.
They mostly ate in silence, all had been caught up to speed, and the focus on the next leg of their journey left them all to contemplate the days ahead. Melissa had told them that their destination lay within the Drago Mountains, a mountain range famed for being guarded by Wyrddlin; a fierce territorial dragon. Though it had been centuries since the last sighting, no one could be certain whether he still lived; nor dared to try and find out.
“So, you say that we have two of these keys already?” Reyna suddenly asked, staring daggers at the magician eating across from her. Did she ever like anyone she traveled with? She even glared at her own brother from time to time.
He sat by Willow’s side and accepted an offered bowl from Token, not daring to interfere with the black knight’s questioning. She’d been silent since meeting up with them and he knew that if she spoke now, it was after long consideration; her words chosen carefully.
Melissa finished chewing her stew, then glanced around at all of them. Bleak had taken a seat on the ground next to her and was busy trying not to fall into the small cup of stew that Token had prepared for him. He failed, as the brownie’s arms suddenly pinwheeled and he fell headfirst into the steamy concoction below. Tristan couldn’t help but chuckle, catching a wary glance from Reyna for the interruption. He shrugged and tried to suppress his grin.
Trek was curled up in Jared’s lap, and upon hearing the brownie’s wails, looked down at the nearby cup briefly, then lowered his head and went back to sleep.
“We do,” Melissa finally answered, her tone resentful of having to repeat herself. She reached down and held a finger out for the brownie, carefully allowing him to climb out of the cup while she continued speaking; as if it were a perfectly normal part of her night. “We created these keys to protect Nimue from the Phoenix’s clutches. My sisters took the other three swords and spread them across the land, each finding a place to hide the blades in the hopes that their secrecy could be maintained. None of us knew where the others went, having never seen one another again.”
“And they do what, exactly?” Reyna pushed. “Besides the obvious; I know what keys do. Are they just regular blades?”
He had unsheathed his sword and was running his finger along the runes of the blade. Reyna’s eyes followed his movements, before returning to the magician once more.
Melissa inhaled slowly, eyes looking off to the east. “When we created them, we didn’t know what properties they’d be bestowed other than serving to unlock the magical barriers we’d put into place. Magic can have unexpected consequences or surprising benefits, depending on the purpose for its use. But yes, they are more than simple blades.”
“Justice was forged by calling forth the essence of Air and instilling it within its steel. As a result, the blade can pass through any object as if it were made of butter, yet still do the damage that a regular blade would inflict. It can penetrate the toughest metals, cut through solid rock, and if you form an image of an object within your mind and throw it, it will streak through the air and pierce its target,” Melissa informed them with a smirk.
Reyna leaned forward, “by object, you mean a person.” It was more a statement than a question and the mage was nodding along with her.
Kylee stepped closer and looked at the blade in his hands, eyes glaring. “So, I can just picture someone and throw this sword, and it’ll find them no matter where they are and kill them?”
He looked up at the ranger and realized the calculation behind those eyes. Slowly he sheathed the sword, the steel sliding from view, and earning him a sneer in response. “We can’t do that.”
“Why the hell not?” Kylee thundered, Tuskar growling with agreement.
“Do you really have to ask?” he returned calmly, staring up at her. “For one, we need this if we’re going to complete our mission and retrieve Excalibur.”
The ranger’s eyes flared in response. “To hell with our mission!”
“Kylee!” Willow scolded, getting to
her feet and facing her sister. “After all that we’ve just been through, you’d throw it all away? What happened to trusting Merlin, to staying the course?”
“He’s not here, now is he?” the albino elf thundered, hair whipping around as she faced her younger sister. “He’s gone! He may be dead!”
“We don’t know that!” Willow hollered back.
Trek yawned, then licked his lips. “He’s not dead.”
The sisters ignored the fairy’s comment, but he didn’t. “You know where he is?” he asked the feline, still not getting over the fact that there was a talking cat amongst them.
Trek’s eyes opened slightly as they stared at one another. “No.”
“But—,” he began but Melissa cut him off.
“What you should really be considering is this; if you were to use that sword for slaying this man you hate, what’s to stop someone else from picking it up and using it to slay you? Or your sister? Or Merlin? For there is no defense against Justice, it’ll find its target no matter what you do to protect yourself. Is that worth it? Should hundreds of thousands of people die for one man? I thought you crusaders were here to save the world!” Melissa thundered at them.
Reyna had been watching with fascination, but now her face turned his way. “We could use the sword to slay the Phoenix!”
Everyone went quiet, the thought having slipped past them. Could it be that easy?
Melissa was shaking her head and he felt the sudden hope depart just as quickly. “It’s the book that needs to be destroyed. Kill the Phoenix and it’ll just find another minion to wield it, nothing will change. And the only weapon that can do that is Excalibur, which you need this sword to reach.”
Kylee kicked dirt towards the fire and strode away, her sister fast on her heels trying to calm her down. “Let them go,” Melissa commented as he rose to go after them. “She won’t listen to you and bringing that blade closer will just make things worse.”
“What of the other, this Madera?” Reyna asked, eyeing him as he once more took his seat.
The New Age Saga Box Set Page 38
