by Brian Murray
“Why there?” asked Zane.
“Well, if we are attacked, then the beasts will have to run up hill. And when we attack them, we will have the momentum of the slope.”
Zane nodded in agreement. “Has he arrived yet?”
“No,” said Dax glumly. “Seems we are on our own.”
“They should be here by now.”
Dax did not say anything, but he thought of the two men who were missing. He could only pray they would arrive—before it was too late.
The clansmen made camp as the sun settled in the west. Several fires were lit. Most of them were around the edges of the camp as ordered by Dax. He also placed guards around the camp in between the fires. The clansmen settled down to wait and rest.
***
Malice ordered one hundred Talon Hunters and Shadows to attack the camp. The moon was hidden behind a cloud and the area shrouded in darkness. The beasts moved to the northwest, the gloom hiding their advance.
***
Dax walked around the camp as many of the clansmen slept. Something troubled the old warrior, but he did not know what. He scratched at the stubble on his chin and walked to his fire, where both Thade and Zane slept. He sat down near the fire and gazed at his two younger friends. They had been through a lot together. They had started with a journey to Kal-Pharina and now they had come full circle. Dax sighed.
The night was still, fresh, and clouds drifted in front of the moon. A break in the clouds allowed a ray of sliver moonlight to hit the slope below the camp. He looked where the silvery light kissed the grass. A shadow moved in the gloomy light. Another cloud drifted in front of the moon and darkness once again shrouded the land. Dax shrugged off his axe harness and settled down to sleep. He had his saddle under his head and pulled his blanket over himself.
What was it? What was bothering me?
Dax turned over and tried to find the sweet spot for sleep. But it would not come. What was distracting him? He sat up and rubbed his tired eyes. The horses nearby started to nicker and snort. He looked up at the clouds in front of the moon. The shadow. There were no trees down there, but a moving shadow. Realisation struck him like a blow. Not a shadow but a Shadow. Dax surged to his feet. As he bellowed an alarm, the first death scream pierced the night’s tranquillity.
Zane and Thade jerked from their slumber and leapt to their feet.
“What?” shouted Thade, instantly alert.
“Beasts in the camp!” shouted Dax, pulling his axes free.
Both Zane and Thade reached for their short swords. Dax bellowed a war cry and went charging into the camp. All around, clansmen rose and peered through the gloom, seeking attackers. The Violet Eyes all surged to their feet and formed a ring around Zane and Thade. Then in the firelight they saw the first beast. Dax ran from the darkness and plunged his axes into the Talon Hunter’s chest. The creature reared and slapped Dax away. Dax was sent flying, but he held onto his axes. Kallop saw the creature loom over the fallen warrior. Fear gripped the clansmen, but he fought it. He roared and shoulder-charged the Talon Hunter, then helped Dax to his feet.
Together the clansmen attacked and killed the beast. Several more Talon Hunters leapt at the clansmen. Some froze, but others instantly attacked. There was a frenzy of fighting. A Shadow attacked Thade and Zane. Zane ran at the beast and dived at its feet. Thade followed. Zane hit the beast on the shins and the beast fell. Thade jumped high and reversed his blades. He landed sitting on the Shadow’s chest with one blade plunged through its neck and the other crunched in its stomach, through its exoskeleton. The creature died. Thade ripped his blades free and ducked under a wild swipe. He dived forward and rolled on the ground, coming up behind his attacker. The Shadow turned, hissing with rage. But Thade was too quick. When the beast faced him, he was already jumping and stabbed the Shadow in its gaping mouth.
Zane rolled under a Talon Hunter’s blow. He came up and ducked under another swipe. Zane stabbed both swords into the creature’s side. The Talon Hunter tried to slap Zane away with a backhand, but he pulled his swords free, swayed, and thrust his swords upward. The Talon Hunter tried to howl, but Zane’s sword was forced through its lower jaw and scrambled its brain. Zane wrenched his sword free and was away before the beast hit the ground. Thade dived at a Shadow, slamming his shoulder into its lower back. The beast hissed as it tumbled to the dirt. Two clansmen used the weight of their bodies and plunged their swords into the beast’s chest.
Thade rose and turned. A Talon Hunter slapped the former gladiator backhanded. Thade rolled with the blow, but he was sent sprawling. The creature loomed over him and pulled its arm back—its claws glinted in the firelight. Then crunch. The beast pitched forward and Thade rolled out of the way. He looked up and saw a white smile.
“Big beastie, aye,” said Kallop, reaching down and helping Thade up. “Let’s go get some more.” The Black Cloud clansman slapped Thade on the back and merged with the darkness.
Dax used his axes and slammed them into the skull of a feeding Talon Hunter. He turned and silently charged another feeding beast.
The camp was in chaos. Men screamed; too many of the screams were cut short by death. All around the camp, Talon Hunters howled and Shadows hissed. Steel clashed on steel, the dull thuds of flesh against fresh, the sickening crunching and snapping of bones, and the squelching slither of blades rending flesh filled the air. The darkness made the sounds of the battle more menacing, more horrific.
The men fought on, cutting, hacking, and chopping the beasts. Soon the noises died down. Still the screams from the injured filled the air, but there was no more crunching or clanging. Dax stood before a fire, the light dancing on his bloodied form. Next to him Zane waited, his eyes wide, his body primed. On the other side stood Thade, his sword dripping with blood, the blood of beasts. All around them the Violet Eyes faced outwards. Dax raised his axes and roared defiantly. Throughout the camp clansmen took up his cry. The noise from clansmen carried to the Dread’s camp and to the white city. The roar sounded as blood chilling as the Dread’s howl.
***
At dawn the clansmen counted their dead. A total of two hundred and thirty-eight warriors had died and sixty-three would not fight again. Amongst the dead clansmen lay forty-nine dead beasts, a mix of Talon Hunters and Shadows. Dax did not like the ratio of dead clansmen to dead beasts, but he took consolation in the fact that it had been a night attack. He decided he would post more guards during the night, to counter any other stealth attacks, but he knew during a moonless night the Shadows could still infiltrate a camp before any alarm was raised. Yet they had to take the risk.
***
Just after dawn, the Rhaurien army arrived on the hills west of the beasts. As usual, the Royal Lancers sent ahead two companies to find a suitable location to camp. Once found, one of the companies formed a protective line whilst the other marked out the camp area. When the other cavalrymen arrived, they dug a defensive trench around the campsite. On the camp side of the trench, the earth was piled up and supported with wooden planks to form a rough bulwark. By the time the foot soldiers arrived, the camp was ready for erecting tents. When the supply wagons approached the trench bridge had been built, the tents raised, and the horse pickets set. The layout of the camp remained the same. The king’s tent stood in the centre, surrounded by the tents of the axe-wielders. Then the horse pickets next and the rest of the men’s tents with a clear, killing area between the tents and the mound of earth. Within a couple hours of arriving, the Rhaurns had formed a temporary fortress for added protection.
Dax rode around to the camp and met with Urkin. He informed the general that the beasts were not attacking the city and so they would wait. Only when Dax himself gave the signal would the Rhaurns advance. However, Dax did insist that the soldiers be ready at all times and explained the night attack the clansmen had suffered. Urkin said he would double his guards and set bell wires along the makeshift wall between the sentries.
***
The Chosen stood on
the mound watching the Rhaurien army complete their camp, wearing the armour forged by Platos, but he did not wear his helm.
“Now those are the Rhaurns,” said the Chosen proudly.
“What are they doing?” asked Platos.
“They are preparing their camp. Whenever they camp they dig a defensive trench and wall. Inside the wall the king’s tent is in the centre of the camp, surrounded by his personal guards, then the horses and finally the men. It is always the same. Each man knows exactly what to do when they arrive at the campsite. Clever, really.”
“Maybe we should adopt that tactic,” said Danf, standing next to Platos, looking inquisitively through the spyglass.
“If everything goes well, I will ask their general to explain the logistics of making the camp,” replied the Chosen.
“How many warriors?” asked Danf.
“I would say about twenty to thirty thousand.”
Platos stretched, yawned, and looked around the city, turning his back on the forces gathering to the west. He smiled as he gazed on the splendour of the white city. Turning again, he looked to the south. Suddenly he stopped turning and looked towards the southwest. In the distance, more dust rose.
“If those are the Rhaurns up there, then who are they?” he asked, pointing to the rising dust.
Both the Chosen and Danf gazed in the direction Platos pointed.
***
Malice and Chaos watched the Rhaurns build their camp to the west of their position. Looking up, the warriors could see they were building a defensive wall around the camp.
“Those are well-drilled men,” commented Malice, removing his helm and running his fingers through his long white hair.
“Aye, but how many more of these mortals are going to gather before we launch our attack, brother?”
“I do not know. We wait for our master’s order to attack.”
“We could have taken the city at any time. You know that as well as I do,” said Chaos.
“That’s true, brother, but there are two more Children of the Light with the clansmen to the north.”
“So, that does not stop us from razing the city first and then turning our force to meet the others. We could have met them head on when they were travelling across the arid lands.”
“That’s strategically sound, brother, but our master wants one battle to end any and all defences.”
“Do you remember the last time the mortals gathered in one place?”
“Aye I do,” admitted Malice, “but this is not Rhamagabora. And they do not have him.”
“I can sense him, brother. He is still alive.”
“I sense our fallen brethren too. But that is not our concern at present. We will leave him for another day.”
“Why can I not go and face him?”
“The master has seen all the futures. He says it is all as he has foreseen. We will wait until the right time and then crush the mortals in one blow.”
Chaos turned to stalk away from Malice. He stopped and looked around. “I hope he is right, brother.”
Malice watched Chaos walk away then returned his gaze to the Rhaurien camp. “So do I,” he whispered. “So do I.”
***
Dax was about to leave the Rhaurien camp and return to Zane and the clansmen when a flustered scout entered General Urkin’s tent. The man saluted and made his report.
“Sir, there’s a force arriving from the south.”
“Who?”
“I cannot tell sir, but it’s a rather large force heading this way.”
Dax and Urkin left the tent and walked through the camp, across the trench bridge, and out to a nearby hill. Using a spyglass, Dax peered to the south.
“Who are they?” asked Urkin, furrowing his brow.
“I’m not sure,” replied Dax, handing the general the spyglass.
Urkin looked through the telescope and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, it can either be more enemy or an ally,” the hulking general added.
“True, it is that simple. But with all those beasts we must face, I hope it’s an ally.” The force drew closer and closer as the men waited, watching, hoping. Dax reached for the telescope. He looked through the spyglass and shook his head, laughing.
“What’s wrong?” asked Urkin.
Dax handed the general the telescope and pointed to the centre of the force. “Tell me what you see.”
Urkin peered through the telescope and also shook his head. “I’ll be damned.”
CHAPTER 18
ADMIRAL RENDEL HAD a dream vision of the Divine One when he was in Teldor after retaking the city. It had happened after Zane’s plan of evacuating the city before the Dread attacked. Once the beasts had left the empty city, he sailed back with the civilians. Problems had been encountered, but Emyra and Zorain had been left in charge of protecting the city.
The Divine One had informed the admiral that Zane would be in trouble. She told him to sail to Phadrine and bring as many troops as possible. Admiral Rendel, Reedie to his friends, gathered his fleet. He assembled all of the soldiers stationed in the city and in the surrounding towns and villages. They started to sail and stopped in Sandall on the south coast. There the admiral sent out messengers to find Zane, to inform him that he would be sailing to Calcalion, then Reedie sailed with the soldiers he had to Kal-Pharina.
When the fleet passed the Glass Mountains a huge storm rose from the south, struck the ships, bucking and rolling them . . .
***
The Gliding Falcon lurched to starboard, then pitched to port. The sailors, including the admiral, were thrown from side to side. The admiral ordered sails to be pulled in and the ship battened down so they could try to ride out the storm. For days, the ship was constantly buffeted. The decks were washed by wave after wave, stripping away anything not secured down. It was dangerous for the sailors to walk on the deck. One minute they could be walking on the wood, the next, they were overboard and swallowed up in the churning white, foaming swells. After losing two men, the admiral ordered all of the men to be tied to the ship and only venture on deck in emergencies.
Reedie had no idea what way the ship headed as it constantly spun in deep, violent swirls and eddies. He could not see the sun or the stars, so navigating proved impossible. Two men, tied to rails, manned the wheel, but they were not steering the ship on any specific course. Their duty was to point the ship into the huge waves so it could ride them. The ship would rise up the wave’s face nearly vertically, then plummet down into deep troughs, the front of the ship crashing deep into the white water. The waves struck as high as the first level of sails and washed over everything. What worried Reedie was he had no idea where the other ships in his fleet were. He could not signal them over the howling storm. The noise at times was deafening, frightening when compounded by the torrential rain and dense spray. The storm was a living beast and it was winning. Reedie always said a storm was a living creature that had to be treated with respect. Disrespect a storm and it would kill you.
Reedie sat in his cabin, trying to down a hot drink. He had slept for only a few hours in the last couple of days. He would be found either standing by or manning the wheel. Three times in as many days he had been dangling overboard, looking at the violent, churning white water. Each time sailors had pulled on his retaining rope to rescue their admiral. Reedie sipped his tisane, but the ship lurched and he spilled the contents onto his lap.
“Why do you test me so?” he roared, turning his head to the heavens. “I’m here to help you and you send this beast to test me. Well, bring it on. I will tame this beast. I will be triumphant.” Reedie’s mood darkened and he felt betrayed. He had been asked by the Divine One to take men to Zane’s aid and this was his reward.
“I thought you were all powerful!” screamed the admiral. “Well, help us as we are trying to help you!” At that moment, his circular portal window blew in and shattered when it hit the opposite cabin wall. Water was driven into the man’s cabin and he screamed a curse. He rose and left hi
s cabin. Walking like a drunkard, he made his way to his captain. Reaching the captain’s smaller cabin, he knocked, then entered the room.
“My window has blown in. Please have someone mend it.”
“Yes sir,” shouted the captain, trying to sip his own drink. The ship bucked and the warm liquid flooded over the man’s face. Reedie boomed with laughter, but his captain cussed.
Reedie left the room and made his way to the deck. He tied himself to a rail and walked out toward the wheel.
Crackling lightning ripped across the sky, but the howling wind drowned out the growling thunder. The beast—the storm—seemed enraged by the ship’s survival and continued to pound it with all its might.
The Gliding Falcon heaved and Reedie was thrown against the wheel. The ship started to rise up another huge wave. The ship crested the wave and started to plummet down. Lightning briefly lit up the area. Reedie wished that it had not. In front of the ship was a wall of white water. He braced himself and the ship smashed into the water at the bottom of the trough. A smaller wave immediately struck the port side with enough power to lurch the ship starboard. The Gliding Falcon lay on her side as more and more waves pounded against it. The ship also spun around, caught in the grip of another huge swirl. Reedie thought that was it but his ship proved defiant, righting herself. Water gushed from the decks and the admiral grimly held onto the rail for his life, nodding.
For two more days, the ship remained caught in the grip of the vicious storm. On the third day, the storm blew itself out, unable to take the Gliding Falcon as its victim and its crew to a watery grave. The sea was still and calm, but the trials were not yet over. Gone was the storm, but a dense white fog besieged the ship. Reedie ordered his sailors to ring their bell and call out for the other ships. The fog was so thick they could only see a couple of strides in front of them. From the deck the men could not see the water. With the sea calm, the men could move around the deck in relative ease. They did have to be careful; one trip and the sailors could be overboard. If they fell over the side, there was very little the others could do to find them. The ship moved under quarter sails as Reedie tried to find the rest of the fleet. The sun and stars were blotted out, so navigating was still impossible. Reedie was sitting in his cabin writing his log when something thudded against the side of the ship. He listened, but nothing happened. Shortly, another thud followed, then another. They were dull thuds and not sharp scraping. More and more things struck the ship’s hull. The admiral left his cabin and walked to the deck.
