The Estian Alliance

CHAPTER 14

Dawn - 14th September - The City of Te’oull - Siatol

“Princess Zephany… They are here!!!”

A very loud and panicked scream from one of the young soldiers on the wall ramparts interrupted Zephany’s early morning stroll. She looked immediately at Lord Caro, who was as usual by her side. In a calm, decisive, confident and commanding voice she gave him her instructions.

“Sound the alarm. Raise everyone from their beds, and ensure they have enough weapons. Everything is to be coated in the poison of herethdar. Let us pray that it is strong enough to stop their beasts… And Caro!” she shouted, as he began to run away. The Perosyan knight stopped immediately. He turned and awaited further orders. “…There is to be no panic, no hint of concern in our actions. I know what we face, but this is exactly what we expected to happen. It should come as no surprise to any of us. We knew it was coming so there is no cause for alarm. Remind our people of that, will you?”

The teenage Princess who now led the whole of the Estian Alliance gazed up at the cloudless sky. “…Hopefully, if we all hold our nerve and become who we were meant to be, it is going to be a long and glorious day. But then, this day has been a very, very long time in coming, has it not?” she said, smiling.

Caro smiled back at her for he knew exactly what she meant. He nodded once and then left to issue the orders. Princess Zephany joined her warriors on the wall ramparts and looked out across the battlefield. She could see the enemy clearly, confirming to her immediately that the Heynai’s shield had vanished. The revalkas and graxoth had begun slowly, forming up and gliding to within a few hundred metres of the wall. There, they had stopped and maintained their position. Zephany surveyed the massed ranks of enemy infantry below them, counting their numbers and noting the different factions amongst their ranks with interest. She was joined within minutes by Queen Bressial, Lord Castrad, Ben, Jean and Verastus. Finally, Brraall appeared, having taken some time to explain to his tribal warriors what was happening.

The footsoldiers of the enemy started to advance slowly, their roars, shouts and cries breaking the silence abruptly, like a chorus of thunder heralding the outbreak of a devastating storm. Ben suddenly grew even more nervous and his stomach started doing cartwheels. He had faced a full-scale battle before at Erriard forest, but it still didn’t prevent him from feeling sick. He drew his sword prematurely, his hand shaking so much that he almost dropped it. “W-Why… Why don’t they attack?” he asked, pointing anxiously at the creatures above, which were now hovering high over the city.

“They are waiting, assessing our strength. They are trying to note our weak points, anything they can use against us,” replied the Princess. “Relax a little while you can, Ben. They will be upon us soon.”

“What? Err… No, I mean, I don’t want to hurry them if they’re enjoying themselves up there. They can take as long as they want for me.”

Princess Zephany chuckled a little, along with the others. Verastus placed a reassuring hand on the young boy’s shoulder, as Zephany gave one last command. “All of you, take up your positions now, please. Remember, our warriors are looking to you for strength and direction, for courage. The example you set for them will win this day, I promise you.”

Ben just could not help himself. “Oh… My section’s in a bit of trouble then? And there was me thinking it had something to do with my best pal, and a certain box of stones? Well, where is he? Surely he won’t miss this? Tell ya what, I hope to blazes he doesn’t!”

Verastus replied for them all in his deep, soothing tone. “He will be here, Ben. He will not let us down.”

“Yes,” added Jean, who suddenly felt compelled to say something. “I can’t say that I know anything about my grandson, for I haven’t even met him as yet, but from what you’ve told me, he does seem the type to want to make a grand entrance, at the very last minute?”

“Ha, ha…” Ben laughed. “Yeah, you’re right. He’s a right show off these days, and that’s just his style. But, just to be on the safe side, you stay right beside me and the big man, okay?”

Verastus reassured her with a confident smile and Jean nodded gratefully. “Okay Ben, I’ll do as you say. My hero.”

Princess Zephany had the last word. “This is supposed to be the beginning of the end, if the prophecies are true. Well, I hope so, I really do. Whatever happens here today, may the divine one, Nittri-Hebul, watch over you all. You are the bravest of companions, the greatest of friends.”

* * *

King Vantrax was at the rear of his armies, flanked only by ten of his Personal Guard and attended to by Nytig, his servant. Sawdon, Melissa and every available warrior had joined the attack. The King was taking no chances here at Te’oull. The Estian Alliance would be crushed by weight of numbers and his enemies would be destroyed in a single day. Nothing had ever been so certain. His forces outnumbered the rebels by over four to one and their ranks were full to the brim of far superior soldiers, warriors who were raised from the dead and powerful, merciless creatures who would do his bidding without question. Command had been handed to Sawdon, the greatest warrior ever to walk on Estian soil, though King Vantrax maintained control over the revalkas and graxoth. Once he received word that they were ready to commence the attack, he waited until Sawdon and his ground forces were half way towards the city, before unleashing them onto the hapless defenders.

Sawdon watched the first of the graxoth begin the assault. He roared with delight and thousands of Thargws behind him joined in. There was no finesse at all to this battleplan. The great warrior had no secret strategy, diversion or hidden surprise waiting for the Estians. Aided considerably by the aerial attack, the vast land army would launch an all out frontal assault on the main wall. The Thargws and Falorians were pulling and pushing the siege towers they had brought with them from Dassilliak, and that now dictated the slow pace of their advance. The remainder of the equipment had been left behind, Sawdon reasoning that the contributions of the revalkas and graxoth would far outweigh those of ballista, catapult, trebuchet and Retian firethrowers. The attacking throngs moved steadily but relentlessly forwards, for the distance to be covered was not great and their enemy, the Estians, were exactly where Sawdon wanted them; trapped behind the walls of Te’oull. They were going nowhere.

* * *

At the main wall it soon became apparent that the warriors there would bear the brunt of the assault. Princess Zephany ordered commanders and warriors from the other walls to assist, though she left enough in post to defend those sections if called upon. Soon, the first of the revalkas joined with the graxoth and the real battle began. The first wave dived down and struck the warriors on the wall, attacking in groups of threes and fours. It was a surprisingly co-ordinated assault and fire balls began to reign down upon the city. Princess Zephany sprinted to a section of archers she had positioned underneath the ramparts, out of sight. When the revalkas overhead came into view and slowed down to turn around, she ordered them to fire.

The arrows all hit their targets, but only two of the four revalkas fell from the sky. Zephany calculated quickly that it had taken over twenty strikes to bring them down, a worrying statistic given the shortage of archers and weapons in her army, not to mention the finite supply of liquid, without Tien and his magic to call upon.

The graxoth swooped down out of the sky with alarming speed, mercilessly taking out any individual defenders on the wall who were brave enough to expose themselves in order to shoot their arrows at the approaching waves. The fire from the revalkas set buildings alight and tore into the ramparts. Within minutes, it was like a scene from hell. The dead and dying were everywhere, wounded warriors were screaming and the Estian Alliance was reeling under the sustained aerial attack, being badly mauled. It was a terrifying thought, but the land forces had still to be engaged and the main battle had not yet commenced!

Zephany knew she had to do something, and quick. But, what could she do? Despite the valuable experience she had gained from years of fighting as a rebel, where she had grown accustomed to thinking of the unorthodox in order to save her skin and those of her followers, she knew the answer on this occasion, was nothing. The creature’s onslaught was turning the tide of battle firmly in King Vantrax’ favour before the fight had even begun. She had nothing in her arsenal to combat his beasts. The fight was only minutes old but the Estians were already losing the greatest battle in their history. They were dying in vast numbers and Princess Zephany was powerless to prevent the slaughter. The revalkas and graxoth were tearing them to pieces, and they were virtually unopposed!

* * *

At the eastern end of the main wall Ben, Jean and Verastus were watching the scenes of carnage in the centre, gazing on in horror as the revalkas tore into their ranks. This was nothing short of a massacre. The warriors of the Estian Alliance were surely doomed unless something, a miracle of some description, happened very, very soon.

“Agh! Come on! There has to be something we can do?” screamed Ben. The youngster’s nerves had disappeared now. He was still terrified of course, but he was also feeling very, very angry and frustrated. He felt completely useless.

Jean gripped his arm tightly. “There’s nothing we can do to help them from here, Ben. But, our time will come,” she said, in a soft voice which betrayed her fear and shock.

“Yeah? Well it had better hurry up!” the teenager stated, clenching his fists.

Suddenly, a single beast dropped from the sky like a stone and landed right in front of them. It was the last surviving sraine, one the evil assassins from Estian legends and history who had so nearly killed Princess Zephany and Jake in their last encounter. It had been carried to the fight by a graxoth. Spotting the distinctive shape of Verastus from up high, it had immediately decided to attack.

As it hit the ground however, two nearby Estian warriors turned to confront the savage beast. The sraine reacted swiftly and it leapt upon them with lightning speed. It sank its venom-filled fangs into their necks, administering its deadly toxin in the blink of an eye. Then it pushed off its victims to land only yards away, completely unharmed. The courageous Estians fell to the ground instantly, never to rise again.

The sraine then turned to face the three horrified onlookers who had witnessed the gruesome deaths of their comrades. Verastus moved in front of the others, drawing his sword with his right hand and shielding them with his giant frame, protecting them. The sraine responded again and launched into an immediate attack. His powerful legs propelled him through the air and his poisonous fangs came within inches of Verastus’ neck.

However, the Falorian’s incredible reflexes and strength saved his life. He caught the sraine by its neck with his left hand and halted its flight, though the beast’s momentum and weight toppled him and he fell backwards, onto his own sword. The sharp, jintan blade easily pierced Verastus’ clothes and cut into his tough, Falorian skin. His whole body weight fell down upon it and the steel ripped through him to emerge on the other side, exiting his body on the right side of his stomach. He cried out in agony, but somehow he managed to keep hold of the sraine. He was now struggling violently to keep it at arm’s length, to stop it from biting his neck and ending his life. But, despite his phenomenal strength, the wound in his side was sapping all of his energy. The sraine was inching closer and closer to his neck and soon, its blood-stained fangs were virtually touching the Falorian’s flesh.

A high pitch shriek suddenly sounded. It was not the sraine who had cried out, but Ben. In his excitement and alarm, he sounded more like a young girl than a teenage boy. He screamed for all he was worth as he raced forward with his sword outstretched and ran it clean through the horrid creature, narrowly avoiding striking his friend as the weapon came out the other side of its body.

The mortally wounded sraine took a moment or two to die. When it had ceased moving, Verastus cast it aside with one great, monumental effort and yelled again as the incredible pain returned. He tried to stand but he couldn’t. Ben was overcome by a feeling of complete and utter terror as he realised how close his friend had come to death, and seeing the terrible nature of his wound.

“Oh my God! How bad is it, big man?” he yelled.

Fireballs continued to reign down around them. People were dying everywhere, buildings were ablaze and crumbling, but Ben Brooker scarcely noticed any of that now. He just stared with extreme concern at the pained expression of his Falorian friend. Jean raced forward and took hold of his hand, sensing that he needed her support.

“It is bad enough, Ben,” answered Verastus. “You must help me. You must pull the weapon out. I cannot fight on like this.”

“What?! Fight on? What you on about? Don’t talk so daft. You can’t…!”

“I can do nothing else!” interrupted the giant. “I fight, or I die. It is as simple as that. Quickly now, there is no time to waste.”

Jean squeezed Ben’s hand and then let go of it to help turn Verastus over onto his side. “Go on, do it, Ben. He is your friend and you have to be strong for him. It is what he wants,” she said, looking deep into the young boy’s eyes.

Ben gulped hard. His mind was in turmoil and his throat was parched. This was the last thing he wanted to be doing, and he suddenly felt very, very queasy. But, he shook it off, took hold of the sword, and breathed in hard. “Okay mate, if you insist… Right… Ready? This is gonna hurt you a lot more than it’ll hurt me.”

* * *

Back at the main wall, things had rapidly gone from disastrous to catastrophic for the Estian Alliance. No warriors were left manning the ramparts now, as everyone was sheltering from the fireballs and graxoth, leaving the advancing enemy footsoldiers free to take the wall unchallenged, completely unopposed.

Princess Zephany was incensed and dismayed by the way the battle was going, but she could do nothing to alter the situation and she decided against ordering her followers out needlessly, to face certain death. She gathered as many as she could around her and they waited under the stairs, ready to jump upon the first of the enemy to breach the wall. She could hear them approaching. The noise of their march grew louder and louder, until it seemed as though they were almost right on top of her.

Then, all of a sudden, a mighty roar echoed across the battlefield. It was different somehow from the shrieks and cries of King Vantrax’ beasts and, unbelievably, it gained the enemy’s full and immediate attention. The advancing hoards stopped!

Princess Zephany decided quickly that she had to see for herself what it meant. “Caro! Come with me. Whatever that was, it holds their concentration, and we have the chance to regain our positions!”

Lord Caro responded in typical fashion. “I am with you Princess, to the bitter end. Lead on.”

They broke cover and the warriors around them followed. As they reached the ramparts and looked out over the battlefield, they were greeted by an awesome, incredible sight. The entire army of King Vantrax, thousands and thousands of warriors, had halted only twenty feet or so from the wall. Their heads and eyes were all turned upwards to the sky. Zephany could see their features clearly and a surge of adrenalin shot through her body. She instinctively reached for her bow. Lord Caro’s hand stopped her however, by grabbing her arm firmly.

“Let go of me!” she screamed. “That’s…!”

“Look!” cried Caro, pointing upwards. “Look at why they stopped!”

The Princess lifted her head just in time to see an entire army of dragons launching attack after attack upon the unsuspecting revalkas. Fire flew in every direction and beams of deadly light crossed the sky. Suddenly, there were scores of magnificent, lethal aerial dogfights of all descriptions raging over Te’oull.

The evil wizard’s land forces recovered themselves almost immediately and resumed their attack, roaring with renewed rage and passion, as they realised that they were too committed to halt their advance now. The Battle of Te’oull was destined to enter into Estian folklore, whatever its outcome. This was the first conflict in hundreds of years where Estians and dragons would fight side by side. A resounding cheer suddenly arose from the defenders of the city as they emerged from their hiding places and retook their positions on the wall, just in the nick of time. With the revalkas and graxoth now otherwise engaged, they were left more or less free to engage the Thargws and their allies on the ground. The first of the ferocious beasts began placing the ladders and siege towers in position, as a solitary dragon flew swiftly down into the main square and unloaded its two passengers.

Princess Zephany witnessed this and cried out to Lord Caro. “Ra! Now Caro! Now they will see for themselves how we fight! The time has come to make good on all promises, to fulfil the vows we made as warriors, and show our worth. Stand by me and watch me work. This is what I was born to. It is all I have known. I am better at nothing else. I confess to you right now that whilst I value peace above all, I am at home here, fighting, and waging war!”

She looked up at the small rise at the end of the valley, where King Vantrax was standing, watching the battle unfold. “…Never, ever, kick me when I am down, uncle! You underestimate me at your peril. I am my father’s daughter and always will be. When I rise, for you may be certain that I will, I shall take my revenge upon you! You will not live to rue the day you betrayed the true King, I swear it!”