The Estian Alliance

CHAPTER 19

3rd September - Outside Te’oull - Siatol

King Vantrax thrust his sword forward once again with real purpose, aiming for his brother’s heart. The weapon was parried for the umpteenth time by a last ditch intervention from the rebel King with his own blade. Artrex could barely stand at this point, and yet he was somehow managing to hold his own against his unwounded sibling, using every ounce of skill and energy he possessed. As the frustration and anger within him increased, beads of sweat trickled down the evil wizard’s brow. He began blowing hard and he was tiring badly. King Vantrax was not used to swordfighting, he had others to do that for him. He did not solve his problems this way and it showed. He could scarcely believe that Artrex had lasted this long, that he had not been able to complete the kill, for his brother’s wounds appeared too severe. Despite the intense hatred he felt for him, one which had been forged over many years of rivalry and conflict, Vantrax could not help but be impressed by this showing of resilience and pride, though he refused outright to show it. The fight should have ended quickly. He was far stronger at this present time than his injured and weak opponent, but it was already several minutes old and he showed no signs of capitulating.

It had been a largely one-sided affair, the fit and able wizard moving more freely and dominating his rival. King Artrex, the once great warrior who had won many battles, refused to concede defeat however. He blocked, parried, thrust, swung and jabbed for all he was worth, trying desperately to find some way of defeating his adversary, his nemesis. But, there appeared to be no way through Vantrax’ guard. The wounded King’s few attacks were painfully slow due to his wounds, and soon he found that he had to use all of his considerable experience and skill just to stay alive.

Before long, his wounded arm throbbed with agonising pain and his chest felt like it was on fire. The roars, cries and shouts from the warriors of the Personal Guard around them rang in his ears, sapping his morale, like the baying for blood of an execution mob waiting impatiently for the axe to fall. They urged their evil master on to victory with untold passion, encouraging him, cheering for him, desperate for him to complete the kill. In fact, the warriors were so engrossed in the fight before them that they ignored everything else on the battlefield. The fight for the city no longer mattered to them at this moment in time, for their hearts were now filled with an incredible lust for vengeance. This was the rebel King they had hunted for so many years with no success. Artrex was the ruler responsible for the deaths of so many of their warriors and comrades. He was the Ruddite Rebellion. Without him to lead it, it would fall as swiftly as a Dzorag’s axe, collapse into nothing in a very short space of time, and bring about the long awaited victory they all sought. This fight marked the end of the long war and the beginning of a new dawn. It would usher in a time of evil, where the Personal Guard and all who served King Vantrax would thrive.

Just beyond their position, in the field of long grass that lay just beneath the hill, a white light shone brightly for no more than a fraction of a second, coming and going so fast that it went completely unobserved by all those watching the fight. Three generations of the West family emerged from the brightness. They were thrown into the grass at tremendous speed, though their falls came to a rapid halt just short of the ground, and they landed completely unharmed. The parting grass curiously made no sound at all and their arrival went unnoticed.

Jake somehow managed to maintain his grip on his father’s hand. Together, they crawled silently over to Harry, being careful to remain as low as possible so that they would not be seen. “Granddad, are you okay?” Jake hissed. “How you feelin’?”

“Hmmn… I’ve had better days, that’s for sure,” replied Harry. “…Still, we’re here now, and it shouldn’t take long for the stones to work. Take out the box and open it.”

Jake did as he was told. The box opened very slowly and the centre reolite stone began to glow, to Harry’s delight. “…Good. I was hoping as much. There is still a little power left in Knesh’ stone. Nittrii-Hebul, eh? I learned of her but I never had the pleasure myself. It would seem that she has done far more than she promised, Jake. You must have impressed her greatly. Now, if we can just… Ah, yes, I can feel it, my strength is returning to me. Ooh, that’s good.”

“Great! Let’s go then? We have to help King Artrex!” cried Jake.

“No, wait. I am sorry me’ boy, but I need a few moments longer,” Harry replied. “We have to be at full strength if we are to do this, all of us. We must wield all our force and power to defeat this wizard.”

Graham was feeling a little left out, as if he’d tagged along to a party he had not been invited to, and was just waiting to be rumbled. But now, he decided to speak. Despite Jake’s understandable impatience, his father knew that Harry was right and he needed to say so. “Please, Jake? Listen to him? I know you want to go but he knows what is best?”

Jake was being torn apart inside and it was almost more than he could bear. Every instinct he possessed was telling him that they were right and that they had to wait, that he could not intervene no matter how much he wanted to. However, every fibre of his being also wanted desperately to go and help his friend, to save his life.

Meanwhile, on the ledge, an incredibly weary King Vantrax pushed his sword forcibly towards his brother one more time. Artrex attempted to block the blow, but his tired and aching muscles did not respond as they should have done. They were fractionally slower than normal and his sword arm did not react in time. The bladed weapon plunged deep into his stomach and he fell to his knees, mortally wounded. The King of Rhuaddan and leader of the Ruddite Rebellion was done for, dying. His death would be a devastating blow for the entire continent. But, though he had no way of knowing it, his extraordinary resistance in the face of such opposition had given the young Keeper the time he needed to complete his journey to Earth, and return with the help he needed.

Artrex looked up in pain at his younger brother. King Vantrax was absolutely shattered. He was struggling to breathe and trying hard to stay on his feet. The warriors of the Personal Guard were roaring their approval, cheering loudly for their King and urging the evil wizard to finish him. King Vantrax raised one of his hands as he approached the stricken warrior and they immediately fell silent. “You see? You could not best me when it mattered, could you brother?” he asked, teasing and mocking Artrex in his hour of glory.

He reached forward and pulled out his sword. The rebel King gasped in pain and clutched his hands to the open wound. Blood began seeping through his fingers and a trickle of it fell from his lips. “Oth… Others will come to avenge me. Mark my words, my daughter will see you defeated. You have won a fight here today, but you have not won the war.”

“You fool, you utter fool!” raged Vantrax. “Have you no eyes in your head? It is over! I have won! Your pathetic rebellion is crushed. The dragons are no match for my creatures. Soon, they will join you in the afterlife, never to curse these lands again. Your army is being destroyed en mass. The city is taken, and your little Keeper has deserted you!”

“No!” Artrex responded, fighting hard to say what he had to say, with his very last breath. He could feel his life fading fast and he spoke his final words as quickly as he could. “…He will come, it is written…”

The rebel King fell to the floor the moment the words left his lips, dead. As the last remnants of air were expelled from his lungs, the metal chain around King Vantrax’ neck, the necklace on which the Lichtus stone hung, suddenly snapped. One of the links had broken in two for no apparent reason. The chain and pendant fell into his shirt and King Vantrax instinctively dropped his sword as he rushed to grab it.

Jake reached the top of the small hill at that precise moment. He saw the wide circle of warriors from King Vantrax’ Personal Guard. In the centre of them all, was King Artrex. The King of Rhuaddan was dead. His body was lying lifeless at the feet of his evil brother. “No..!” the young Keeper screamed, as soon as he saw that he was too late to save his friend, unable to contain himself.

It was an involuntary, stupid reaction, and it alerted everyone there to his presence!

The warriors of the Guard drew their weapons immediately and began to run towards him, determined to kill their young enemy. King Vantrax began frantically trying to retrieve the Lichtus stone in order to use it against him. Jake reached for and lifted the box of stones. Remarkably, the centre stone was still alight, though even Jake was astonished by its lasting power. Graham and Harry suddenly appeared on either side of the ridge. As soon as they were standing upright, Jake shouted out as loud as he could.

“Traxualaet enon uufflaal acrath!”

A triangular beam of light was emitted instantly from the reolite stone. It connected all three Keepers in a fraction of a second, and they immediately knew what they had to do. As the elite warriors switched direction to attack the nearest of them, the Keepers threw their arms up and aimed their palms at the closest soldier’s. Bolts of bright light shot out of their hands and hit the warriors in turn, turning them instantly into black piles of ash, which fell to the ground or blew away in the gentle breeze.

King Vantrax had by now retrieved his stone. He was surprised and alarmed to find that he was now faced by not one, but three Keepers, with only his servant, Nytig, for company. His elite warriors were gone and his manservant was cowering behind him for protection.

Jake, Harry and Graham turned their attention towards the evil wizard. Before he could use the Lichtus in anger, they each fired a bolt of light. The beams of death raced towards him so fast they were barely visible.

“Zsabrutt!”

The Lichtus stone once again threw a shield of impenetrable light around King Vantrax at his command. Only, this time it covered his servant also. The three Keeper’s rays of light hit the indestructible barrier and had no effect, bouncing off the wall and vanishing into thin air. Jake was aghast, mortified to find that their primary weapons had not worked. Their powers were clearly not strong enough to kill him!

He looked immediately over at Harry in desperation. “What’s wrong? Why isn’t it working?!” he yelled, hoping his grandfather would have the answers.

But Harry was equally as stunned as his grandson. “I… I do not know, Jake. The stone perhaps?” he offered in reply.

Graham looked at them both. He was horrified, but a swift reaction from their enemy prevented him from saying anything. Inside his protective shield, King Vantrax suddenly began to laugh, an evil roar of delight. “Ha ha ha! Three of you now? Three Keepers? And still you cannot defeat me!”

King Vantrax looked as though he was going to launch a strike of his own, to use his powerful stone against all three Keepers at once, to kill them all. However, all of a sudden, everything on the battlefield froze, and time once again stood still. Nobody moved on the whole of Estia, not even Jake.

‘The wizard speaks the truth, Keeper. You will not be able to destroy him on this hill, not now. Not until you restore the box.’

The gentle but firm voice inside Jake’s head was loud and clear, but only he could hear it. ‘Nittrii-Hebul! Then, why? Why send me back?’ he asked, his frustration and anger almost boiling over. He felt like screaming, punching a wall or something, even though he knew that neither would help the situation even if he could.

‘Jake… Now may not be the time, but I believe you will still prevail. I have broken my vows. I have broken my solemn promise not to interfere, time and time again. We are all in the hands of fate now, Keeper. Nothing is as it was, as it has been since the beginning of time. It is all my fault. I have sided with you and shown you favour. It is unforgiveable, and it will have repercussions, I assure you. I will not come to you again, Jake. The stone’s power is almost gone. It has little left to give, but it will take you and your family away from here, as it must, back to Te’oull. Ben and Tien, your friends, are close by. The power of three Keepers will help you to take them with you. There is no option now, believe me. If you do not go, the wizard will destroy you all.’

‘Retreat?! No. There has to be another way? We have him trapped!’

Jake’s stubborn refusal to accept what he was being told was met with complete silence. No reply was spoken and it became immediately apparent to him that Nittrii-Hebul had disappeared. The teenager was now caught in a terrible dilemma. King Vantrax was untouchable inside his wall of light and as soon as the spell was lifted and everything returned to normal, he would realise that he could attack. Jake had only seconds to decide what to do. If the stone lost its power now, before they escaped, they would all be left alone to face the wizard’s magic, certain in the knowledge that they were not strong enough to defeat it, to defeat him.

Before he had made up his mind completely, time suddenly reverted to normal and Jake felt a gentle breeze caress his cheek. The teenager made a snap decision and screamed out loud, before King Vantrax knew what was happening.

“Agh! Craasthudd velemme!”

Everyone except for King Vantrax and Nytig suddenly disappeared from the hill and surrounding areas. The evil wizard was left stunned and amazed. He lowered his shield and roared in anger.

After his initial response was over and he had a brief moment of further deliberation, he was still not sure what to think. He did not know whether he should be relieved at having survived the attack, or furious at the loss of his warriors and the chance to destroy the Keepers once and for all? It took him several minutes to decide on the latter.

Jake and the others appeared in the city of Te’oull almost immediately. They were standing on a relatively quiet backstreet, situated behind the Estian Alliance lines. Jake was also furious, despite his relief at having saved the others from what appeared to be certain death. He had come so close to ending this epic struggle, to winning the war and going home, with his mission accomplished. But, in the end, he had failed yet again. He was however, happy to be staring at the smiling face of his best friend.

* * *

The great defensive wall at Te’oull had fallen. The enemy forces had stabilised their lines and were now once again ready to advance, to continue their attack. Facing Princess Zephany and Lord Caro were masses of beasts and warriors from a host of different countries, across both continents. At the very last minute, their ranks slowly parted and through them all strode the Sebantan Princess, Melissa. She was flanked by several of her warriors, with the entire contingent of Sebantans not far behind her. Melissa identified Princess Zephany immediately.

“Warriors of King Vantrax!”

The entire city seemed to fall silent upon hearing her words, even in the midst of battle. “…What is left of our enemy is before you. Give them no quarter, show no mercy, the day is ours… Advance!”

King Vantrax’ mercenaries threw themselves down from the ramparts or headed for the nearby steps and resumed the attack. Some were killed or wounded by the axes, spears and knives thrown desperately by the defenders, but before long the entire force was crashing into the Estian lines and a fierce, bloody close-quarter fight began.

Whilst Lord Caro was otherwise engaged, fighting numerous enemy warriors and leading the line, a curious pattern seemed to be developing. Amid the confusion and turmoil of battle, it soon became apparent to all that the attackers were doing their utmost to steer clear of Princess Zephany, to avoid her at all costs, as if ordered to do so. Only those warriors she moved to attack directly seemed to want to fight her. Finally, the reason became clear, as Melissa fought her way through to confront the young royal.

“Yaar! A glorious day. I did not believe I would get this chance to face you. I hoped, but I thought to find your corpse on the battlefield before I reached your position. So, the daughter of a King deposed. I am glad to have been mistaken. Let us fight to the death now, you and I. We are both of royal blood, both warriors and leaders, let us see which Princess is most worthy of survival?”

Before Zephany could respond, Melissa launched into a swift and lethal attack. Her sword moved so rapidly, and in all directions, that Zephany found it hard to predict its angle of attack. Somehow though, she managed to block its multiple strikes with several last moment interventions. She defended herself valiantly, but she did not seem able to move to the offensive, and it looked as though her end was only a matter of time.

Melissa then suddenly sensed immediate danger. Two Alliance warriors attacked her, one from either side, whilst she was distracted by their leader. With astonishing speed, the Sebantan warrior withdrew a little from the fight with Zephany and countered their attack by grabbing a throwing knife from the scabbard on her shoulder blade, with her free hand. She hurled it at one warrior before turning to the other and killing him with a rapid thrust of her sword to his throat. Then she turned swiftly back to face the astonished Princess Zephany, ready to continue the fight before the rebel Princess had chance to take advantage of the interruption.

“Forgive me, where were we?” she said, as she retook her position.

Despite her shock at having witnessed such astonishing skill, Zephany seized on the opportunity to delay her opponent and put her off guard. “You… You were mistaken before. You are no Princess… You are the daughter of a Keeper, your master’s worst enemy!”

The battle raged on around them, but Melissa was stunned by such an unbelievable and unusual accusation. She was certain it was a trick, a lie designed to distract her, the desperate act of a girl who knew she was outmatched and about to die. Still, it was such an odd thing to say? In spite of the circumstances, something inside of her did not want to dismiss it without hearing more. “You lie! You would say anything right now to save your skin!” she replied, her fingers tightening around the handle to her sword as she prepared to attack once again.

“And yet, you delay?” answered Zephany, smiling. “Could it be that you know it is true? Why do you think you have such a strange name? It is not Sebantan, is it? Where do you suppose it came from? I will tell you if you like? Think!”

Melissa was angered further by Zephany’s taunts. She flew into a wild rage and launched two more determined attacks, but Zephany somehow repulsed them. The Sebantan warrior then took another step backwards to catch her breath. She was trying her hardest now to block out what had been said, but the damage had been done. From out of nowhere, she suddenly saw a very brief image appear in her head. It was a memory, long since suppressed and forgotten, a shadow of her past which had been locked firmly inside the deepest recesses of her mind. She saw a dungeon, a chain binding her to a wall even as a child, and a woman. Her eyes widened and her face became a picture of surprise and amazement. ‘No. It’s all true!‘ she realised, horrified and stunned.

Princess Zephany noticed her reaction. “Yes, I see it in your face. You see, your whole life is a lie. Listen to me… You were four years old when they took you. Somehow, you have forgotten, erased it from your mind. King Vantrax stole you away from your mother. He sold you to the highest bidder. And now you fight for him. You kill for him!”

“No! It is not…!”

“Yes! It is true!” screamed Zephany. “However much you deny it, your mother is here to prove it to you. She is alive. She is here in Te’oull. You are one of us!”

Melissa was now in a state of complete confusion. A thousand different thoughts and emotions swamped her all at once. She could not think straight and she suddenly lost all focus. Zephany seized the advantage and raced forward at speed. Melissa weaved to avoid the attack but the Estian leader’s sword cut deeply into her arm. She dropped her own weapon and clutched her hand to the wound, immediately feeling a tremendous, burning pain, but refusing to scream.

Lord Caro and others rushed forward at that very moment, pushing the attackers backwards briefly as they tried to protect their leader. Melissa fell to her knees. In the tight space that had suddenly developed, she was completely at Princess Zephany’s mercy. The young royal stood over her now with sword in hand and contemptuous eyes, the power of life and death resting solely with her as she towered over her enemy, ready to take her life.