The Estian Alliance

CHAPTER 15

3rd September - The City of Te’oull - Siatol

The mother of all battles was now in full swing. An army of majestic, fire breathing dragons had flown straight out of the Estian history books to appear over the besieged city, hoping to rescue the soldiers of the Alliance and wage war against the terrifying forces of evil threatening to destroy their new allies. Arriving just in the nick of time to stop the main aerial attack, the dragons engaged their enemy immediately and without warning. The element of surprise was on their side and it enabled them to kill several of the wizard’s beasts in the initial assault. But, many of their awesome foe still remained and the dragons were now battling fiercely with the revalkas and graxoth in the skies above Te’oull, which had now become the battleground for a fight every bit as fierce and important as the one taking place below. There, the massed ranks of King Vantrax’ mercenaries had reached the main wall and begun to scale their ladders. Thousands of ferocious warriors, of all creeds and origin, stood poised to take the city. Hundreds of their comrades were waiting inside the siege towers, about to lower the ramps and storm the ramparts. The Estian archers were firing their bows for all they were worth at the enemy trying to scale the wall, sending arrow after poison-coated arrow into the attacking throngs, from almost point blank range. However, the defenders of Te’oull had regained their defensive positions too late to inflict maximum damage upon the advancing troops and, despite their frantic and desperate efforts, they were unable to stem the advance.

Sawdon watched on from below as the first of his warriors stepped off a ladder and onto the wall. The great Gerada protected his own body from a hail of arrows being fired at him with the aid of a large Thargw shield, as he watched the fearless young warrior fall to a combination of Estian arrows and spears. The frustration and fury he felt within him was too much to bear and, despite his King’s explicit orders that he should remain far enough away from the fighting to retain effective control, something snapped inside. He was incensed and could contain his rage. Blood rushed through his body and clouded his judgement as his heart rate rocketed to an unbelievable pace. He raced to the nearest ladder and pulled the young Thargws waiting to ascend it away from the rungs. With his sword in one hand and his shield in the other, his huge claw-like fingers managing to hold onto the ladder at the same time, he raced up the rungs as fast as he could.

Arrow after arrow struck his shield as he held it aloft to protect his advance. When this failed to stop his incredible charge, several courageous Estian knights attacked him the moment he set foot on the ramparts. A spear thundered against his shield, but Sawdon simply snapped it off with a strike of his sword and continued forward, killing with impunity as he took the rampart single-handed in an unbelievable display of courage, power and skill. He dispatched the Estian swordsmen who confronted him with effortless ease and fought his way swiftly along the wall. He was soon joined by two of his compatriots, who slowly beat the rest of the Estian defenders backwards and worked their way in the other direction, protecting his rear. Together, the three mighty Thargws suddenly halted and held their positions, showing incredible discipline and presence of mind, and enabling more and more of their comrades to clamber over the ladder and onto the wall. The Thargw warriors appeared to be unstoppable. Thanks to their amazing and awe-inspiring leader, the foothold they needed to establish on the wall of Te’oull had been secured.

But, Sawdon was not done yet. With every one of his Thargw instincts now awakened and alive, he felt as if his whole body was on fire, and he pressed home the attack for all he was worth. His eyes gleamed with uncontrollable excitement and saliva flowed from his fang-filled mouth. He began roaring loudly as he sent warrior after warrior along the ramparts in both directions. Now Sawdon and his Thargws were at their magnificent best. They excelled at close quarter combat and they tore into the Estian ranks without mercy. Their great battleswords ripped the defenders to pieces. Bodies and limbs were flung from the wall as they made their way along it in both directions. They were joined by several of the Estians, who chose to jump at the last minute, rather than face the ferocious assault.

Lord Castrad was commanding this section of the wall, but along its entire length the story was the same. The enemy forces were overwhelming the Estian defenders. Isolated sections had already fallen and King Vantrax’ troops were pouring into the gaps which had been created in the Estian line. Everywhere the terrified defenders looked they could see the fearsome warriors beginning to spread out and fight their way along the wall. It soon became clear to all that the outer defences could not be held for much longer.

Lord Castrad could not see it however. The hero of Dassilliak had his eyes fixed firmly on a single warrior; Sawdon! Ignoring the screams and shouts of Queen Bressial, who was commanding the secondary line of defence just behind him and could see everything that was happening, Castrad fought his way valiantly through defenders and attackers alike, killing and wounding several Thargws before finally coming face to face with their renowned leader.

“A knight of Nadjan,” stated Sawdon, the moment he caught sight of Castrad’s tunic. Blood dripped from his sword and shield as he paused briefly amid the chaos of battle to savour the moment. “…A worthy adversary on such a day. Step forward, and I shall send you to the afterlife swiftly, with a warrior’s death.”

His impressive array of teeth and fangs were exposed, enough to frighten any opponent. His eyes looked like they were on fire. The Thargw was having a wonderful day, a day as good as any he had enjoyed in a very long time, and it was just about to get even better. Each thick and rough hair of his fur seemed to stand on end increasing his already considerable frame, in an involuntary attempt to intimidate his much smaller adversary.

Lord Castrad though, was an experienced warrior in his own right and he had no fear of the terrible Thargw, despite his awesome reputation. “Save your words and threats for those who would listen. You have taken your last step forward. This is not your land, Thargw. You stain it with your presence. It all ends here for you! Remember me and my people when you reach the other side. Let it haunt your days and nights, how you failed in your attempt to defeat us!”

“Raarrrghh!!!”

Sawdon was enraged and he suddenly thrust his sword forward. Lord Castrad managed to parry the blow just in time and then launched several attacks of his own, all of which were repulsed easily by the mighty Thargw. They fought for several minutes whilst the battle raged all around them, watched anxiously from below by Queen Bressial and her contingent of Estians. The Nadjan monarch wanted to help but she was powerless to intervene, all she could do was collect and organise those fleeing the fighting at the wall, to try and build another line of defence against the relentless hoards.

The giant Thargw’s battlesword began to move even faster and it twirled and gleamed in the morning sun. Finally, one of the glints of sunlight caught Lord Castrad squarely in his eyes, distracting him for a vital fraction of a second… And a fraction of a second was all Sawdon needed. With astonishing speed he feigned an attack to the Nadjan’s right, but pulled his arm away when half way through the swing and switched direction, so that his sword now came from the left. The momentary loss in concentration caused by the sun’s rays undid the noble knight, he was too slow in countering the move and the battlesword cut heavily into his left hand side, inflicting a serious, mortal wound.

Castrad fell to his knees almost immediately. He looked up at the Thargw warrior just in time to see the final blow, as Sawdon plunged his blood-soaked weapon deep into his neck. Below them, Queen Bressial screamed out in horror at seeing the death of her beloved cousin. However, her cries were lost amid the tremendous noise of battle. The death of Lord Castrad devastated her, she was immediately consumed with grief and despair, but all she could do was glare helplessly at the great Thargw warrior and watch, as he merely stepped over the body to continue the fight. He was now advancing rapidly towards the steps which led down to the city itself, and he would soon be upon them. He was relentless, invincible. Sawdon and his Thargws had now virtually cleared this whole section of wall. Hardly any Estian defenders remained to oppose them. It looked as though nothing could halt their progress.

* * *

In the centre, things were also not going well for Princess Zephany. Just as elsewhere, her archers had fired so many arrows trying to bring down the graxoth and revalkas, that they had too few left with which to defend the wall. Most had already exhausted their supply and picked up a sword or axe, in order to fight on as ordinary footsoldiers. Two siege towers and several ladders had unloaded their rampaging warriors onto her section of the wall. A fierce fight had ensued as the Estians somehow managed to counterattack, led bravely by the incomparable Lord Caro. The defenders tried and tried to force the Falorians, Thargws and Retians back over the wall but to no avail. Princess Zephany was positioned a little towards the rear with the second line, itching to join the fight but knowing that she could not, aware of her command responsibilities. After a short while, she could see for herself that the wall was lost. With a heavy heart she instructed a hornblower to sound the recall and her warriors began to disengage from the fight.

The Estians fell back as quickly as they could. They converged on the outskirts of the city as planned, to establish their second line of defence. Along the length of wall they vacated, their places were taken quickly by enemy warriors. They climbed onto the ramparts and stood shoulder to shoulder with their comrades, staring down menacingly upon the ranks of beleaguered defenders, who now faced them across a relatively short distance. The flight of the Estians had actually been so rapid and unexpected, that a short and unplanned pause in the battle followed, as King Vantrax’ forces tried to stabilise the line and consolidate their positions.

Things were looking exceedingly bleak for Princess Zephany and her army. Seriously outnumbered and outclassed, without the Keeper, his wizard or his stones, they once again appeared to be in a hopeless position. They knew the enemy would resume the attack very soon and the battle would be over. Lord Caro fought his way through the ranks to find the Princess and stand by her side. He was breathing hard because of his exertions and he took a moment or two to speak. “I… I am sorry Princess, there were just too many of them. We could not hold the wall as you ordered.”

“I know, Caro. I could see. You fought bravely. None could have given more. All we can do now is sell our lives as dearly as we can,” replied Zephany.

Caro looked a little stunned, and confused. “This is it then? But, Jake? Where is Jake? I saw him land. What has happened to the Keeper?”

“He has gone. He attempts to secure the final stone we seek. We have run out of time. We need the stones and we need them now. Jake has left with our blessing and he has taken Tien with him, in the hope that he can restore them without delay. For us however, I do not think he will achieve it in time.”

Lord Caro breathed in more deeply than he had ever done. He let the air out slowly, deliberately. Then he turned to face the enemy. “I have never feared death, Princess. I will face it now with you and look it straight in the eye, proud beyond measure to serve you, and be your champion. Promise me though if you will, that should the chance arise, if fortune favours us and I survive long enough, their leader, Sawdon, is mine?”

Princess Zephany raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Such a strange request, given our plight? But yes, gallant knight, I believe I can grant you that, should it fall into my hands to be able to do so. Though, I fail to see why it is of any importance to you who does the killing?”

“It is quite simple; he is their best. I am a professional soldier, have been all my life. There are few challenges left to one such as I.”

“Challenge?” said Zephany. “This is war Caro, not sport!”

“It is sport to me, Princess. Some may consider mine a filthy, murderous occupation, but I do not, and it is all I have.”

Princess Zephany glanced up and the terrifying hoards of warriors massing on the wall for the final attack. “We are an odd pair you and I, of that there is no doubt. Out of place in parts of this world some would say, among the more civilised sections of our society. And yet, we seem to have stumbled upon the very time and place when our kind are needed most? Farmers and tailors do not wield a sword like you and I, and they do not win wars, not without us to guide them? Yaar… We are here now, let us see it done! I… I cannot see the Thargw among their number?” she said, pointing along the wall. “…I am sorry, Caro, it does not look as though you will get your wish today. I do not see Ben or Verastus in our ranks either?” she added, now searching her own lines.

“No, neither do I. Perhaps they are…?” began Lord Caro.

“Do not think it! Do not say it,” ordered Zephany, cutting him off in mid sentence, deliberately. “Jake left to greet them briefly before he departed, he may have taken them with him. Or we may just be unable to see them. Either way, we must look to ourselves and our people. As soon as they have formed their lines, the enemy will resume the attack. Make ready!” she cried, at the top of her voice. “…No more retreats from here! Make them pay dearly for every inch of Estian soil they take! Axes, arrows and spears to the front! Wait for my command… When it is given, send this army of beasts back to the fires of Zsorcraum from whence they came!”

* * *

Some time earlier, King Artrex and the spirit of Gerada Knesh Corian had observed from a distance as the armies of King Vantrax advanced on Te’oull. When the revalkas and graxoth began their attack and were engaged by the dragons, the two old soldiers were amazed and elated to see that the evil wizard was left standing on the small hill, guarded only by his manservant and ten of his warriors. Their delight was tempered somewhat however by the fact that all ten sentries were members of his elite Personal Guard. The two friends looked at each other immediately, both convinced that their time had come, and that they would never have a better opportunity of getting to King Vantrax.

“This is it!” hissed Artrex, with a gleam in his eye. “This is what you meant by my destiny, is it not? We were never meant to reach Te’oull. I have to kill my own brother. I must take his stone.”

Knesh Corian nodded. “Yes. I did warn you. I told you that you had a part to play yet. We have no time to waste. The land between us offers good cover, we should be able to approach unseen and move to within striking distance. From there, I will draw off his Guard, leaving you free to tackle your brother. Can you do it, given your wounds? Are you up to it, sire?”

King Artrex looked down upon his injured arm. He was still very weak and it was his sword arm. However, he knew he had no other option open to him but to try, for the good of his people, and the future of his world. “I will not lie to you Knesh, my friend. I would choose another time and place if I could. But, Vantrax was never good with a sword. If I can get to him quickly, before he uses his stone, his magic? Yes, I can do it. I will take that reolite of his and end his life, for that is what has to be. I will do it, or I will die in the attempt!”

Knesh Corian’s face was beaming with pride as he looked at his lifelong friend. “You know, in this land which breeds heroes in abundance, I can honestly say that I know of no braver soul than you, my King. I would follow no other… Save for your daughter. If anyone can do this thing, it is you.”

King Artrex smiled and thanked his loyal Gerada, almost forgetting that he was addressing a spirit, and not a living being. “Then let us go and steal this day. Time waits for no one. It is a day of reckoning, and it has already had its dawn.”

* * *

At the same time, Jake had just bid farewell to Resus, the elder of the dragons. He watched him soar upwards into the sky and rejoin the battle, before rushing with Tien to find Princess Zephany. Their brief conversation had been short and to the point, given the dire situation and the need for haste. Jake now had four of the five stones he needed to restore the box. The powers concealed therein he still did not understand fully, but he believed them to be sufficient to turn the tide of this crucial battle, and he hoped for all he was worth that he would know how to use them when the time came, in order to fulfil his destiny and defeat the vast armies of King Vantrax… Maybe even to kill the evil wizard himself.

Zephany stated that he should seek the final stone without delay, to try to use them and end the war before the Estians were overrun. But, Jake hesitated a little. He wanted Ben by his side. “I know the urgency, Princess, but please don’t challenge me on this? It has to be this way. Don’t ask me why, but he has to be there,” he’d insisted. “…Besides, I’ve already lost him twice now. I want him where I can see him, and protect him!”

Princess Zephany relented and informed Jake where he could find his friend. Not wishing to delay him even further, she said nothing about Jean. Tien sensed that something was amiss, that there was more to be said, but he went happily along with Jake as they searched through the carnage of Te’oull for their friends. Eventually, they found the teenager standing beside the stricken Verastus, who was clutching his huge hand over an open wound in his stomach. An old lady stood next to them. She was ridiculously out of place in the midst of a battle, but Jake scarcely noticed her as his heart suddenly leapt for joy and he raced to hug his friend. Like Ben, he was grinning from ear to ear, and crying joyous tears of relief.

“Alright, alright mate,” said Jake, when they had both calmed down a little. “No qualms about hugging me now then, eh?” he asked, remembering something Ben had said previously when he had to ride behind him on a horse. He pushed him away gently and looked him in the eye. Ben shook his head, realising that the comment had been juvenile. “…‘Bin some journey, hasn’t it? You don’t get all this in Lichfield. And it ain’t over yet. We’ve got to go and do battle with King Vantrax now. We have to steal his stone.”

“What?! Jake, are you certain that you know what you are doing? His powers are too strong, he will kill you!” Verastus objected.

“Nah, not really. To be honest with ya, I’m not sure of anything anymore,” answered Jake, truthfully. He stared down with concern at the Falorian’s wound. “…But then, I’ve been winging it from the very beginning, so that’s nothing new. Err… You’re wounded, and it looks bad? Shouldn’t you be resting, or getting help?”

“It is nothing.”

“Liar!” cried Ben instantly, with far more force, far more emotion than he meant to show.

“Frah! You need not worry about me, I will recover. You have far more important concerns, both of you. I promise that I will seek assistance as soon as the fighting is over. Does that satisfy you?” asked the gentle giant.

“It may satisfy them, but it does not satisfy me. Here, let me look at it,” Tien stated, moving forward to inspect the deep gash.

But to everyone’s surprise, Verastus objected once again, this time far more strongly. “Leave me be! There is no time. You have to get that stone. It is a thousand times more important than me. I will be fine I tell you. Now go!”

“But…” began the wizard.

“He’s right, Tien. We must leave now!” rasped Jake, interrupting just as vigorously. His face had hardened all of a sudden and he was overcome by a cold hearted look of determination. “Come on Ben, you’re coming with me this time.”

Ben tried to argue the point, but it was a half hearted attempt and the words petered out pathetically, as the youngster realised that he really didn’t know what to do for the best. Jake’s sudden and forceful resolve told him that it was not a request this time, it was an order. He had to go, no matter how much he did not want to leave Verastus behind. Deep inside, even though no one seemed willing or able to explain, he knew somehow that there would be a good reason why. “Okay then, if that’s the way you want it, Keeper… But, before we go, this is…”

Ben tried his best to introduce Jean to her grandson. She had remained in Verastus’ shadow all the time, patiently waiting for her turn to speak and seemingly invisible to Jake. Tears were in her eyes as she stepped forward slightly, sensing that her time had come.

However, the teenage Keeper was now in determined mood and nothing was going to distract him from the task in hand, or stop him from doing what he had to do. “Sorry, time’s up. We really have to go!”

Before anyone else could speak, the two winged horses reappeared from out of nowhere and landed before them, having been summoned by the Keeper moments before using the power of his mind. Jake ushered Ben quickly to the first stallion and mounted it, helping his friend to climb up behind him and ignoring all his protests.

“…I don’t mean to be rude mate, but this thing can’t wait. Now, no more talking and hold on to your hat Ben, me boy… This is gonna be short and swift. We’ve got a date to keep you and I and it won’t do to miss it. There’s one more battle to fight and my name’s written all over it, has been since the beginning of time apparently. Let’s do this thing… And then, maybe, we can finally go home!”