The Estian Alliance

CHAPTER 24

3rd September - The Main Square - Te’oull City - Siatol

The exhausted and desperate groups of retreating Estian warriors converged on the main square where they ran straight into the waiting arms of Lord Caro and his captains. On Princess Zephany’s orders, they were halted immediately and sent to plug the many gaps that still existed in their new defensive lines. Before long, thousands of determined defenders were packed tightly into the small area and a strong pocket of resistance had been established, the last line of defence for the Alliance. Due to the large numbers contained therein, the Estian square spilled out on all sides with fighters who were forced to spread into the surrounding streets, creating a solid and immoveable wedge, a final barrier to the fast approaching enemy. It was one which could be easily defended, would be held at all costs, and hopefully prove very hard to take. The Estians were under no illusions that the battle was as good as lost, and that this was their last stand. If it wasn’t a fight to the death before, it certainly was now, for they had finally run out of ground to which they could retreat. Their fighting withdrawal had been swift and orderly for the most part and, just as Zephany had ordered, the enemy legions had been made to pay a high price for each yard of ground they had taken. They had also been slow to predict the Estian’s actions, failing to pursue them in time to prevent their escape, and stop those fleeing the battle from organising effective defences around the square. It was a mistake borne of overconfidence and one they would live to regret. In fact, only small sections of isolated Thargws had spotted the opportunity that had arisen to hasten the end of the battle, and tried to intervene. Though, their actions had been motivated more by a sudden lust for blood, rather than an appreciation of the military tactics required.

It all meant that, for the moment at least, until her enemy advanced again and closed the gap that had developed, there was a lull in the battle and Princess Zephany found that she had time to check on her prisoner, Melissa. She wanted to ensure that her dangerous adversary was still held captive, bound and guarded. The young royal had no idea what she should do with her, she had thought it over several times but had still not made up her mind. She only knew that she did not want such an awesome warrior running loose in the midst of battle. ‘…Even a badly wounded trexonn still has teeth and claws.’

“Kah! You are still with us I see?” Zephany stated as she approached the statue in the centre of the square where Melissa’s guard had sat her down. “…You have not managed to run off and join your murderous comrades?” The Sebantan warrior looked up at her royal captor with venomous eyes that seemed to burn right through the Princess, and immediately sent an icy shiver running down her spine. “Ra! If looks could only kill… Have I upset you in some way? You may have murdered half my people, but that was not my intent. Forgive me?”

Melissa looked around her slowly, before reaching the inevitable conclusion once again that escape was impossible. “You have me bound, so I am your prisoner, it is therefore your right to mock me. I should have died in this battle. I would rather have my throat slit by a Dzorag, than live to bring such shame down upon my Sebantan sisters. This is no way for a warrior such as I to be treated, no matter what you are accusing me of. Give me a sword, and I swear I will do the job for you? No? This wound,” she said, indicating with her head towards her blood-drenched arm, “it may finish me yet, but seeing as you are all surrounded and soon to die anyway, why not release me now, and you and I can fight to the death, right here? Come on, Zephany! You hold all the advantages. I am certain to die, and you can then bathe in the glory of my defeat, for however long you have left in this life. You can use such a victory to inspire your people in their last action? At the very least, I will go down fighting, as I deserve. Yargh! I am pleading with you to show some mercy to a fellow warrior, to behave with honour?”

Princess Zephany was moved a little by the impassioned appeal, but not in the way that Melissa had hoped. “Frah! You really are full of your own importance! Your days have come and gone. You have served King Vantrax and done his bidding, you sell your sword to the highest bidder, you have no honour! So, do not presume to ask it of me! You and your King, my uncle, have sought to destroy this land, to tear apart everything we have built, everything we love. You may very well succeed in your efforts, for our numbers continue to dwindle and we are nearing the end. But, before you do, you will be forced to watch the bravery of the Estian people from up close. They stand before you now in their thousands and they will not yield, even though they know this battle, this war, is lost. And do you know why? They fight for a cause you will never understand, but after today neither will you forget. It will be the last thing you do in this life, to sit there helplessly and watch us die, to see what freedom really means to those who have had it taken away. Honour? Frah! You do not know the meaning of the word! You would not recognise it if it…!”

“Princess Zephany!”

An excited cry suddenly rang out from a soldier on the western edge of the square, interrupting the Princess as she was just about to vent her full fury at her enemy. “Yes? What is it?” she snapped, annoyed a little by the interruption.

“It is the wizard!”

The young leader’s mood changed in an instant. She smiled and turned back to face Melissa. “Ra… Funny thing, fate. As dire as our situation may seem, things may yet be undecided here? I would not count on victory until you see your Thargws marching into this square. We may still surprise you. I must go… I may not see you again, but know this, Sebantan; you were a child once, just like any other. You were innocent, untroubled by the ways of this world, or any other. The woman who brought you into this life loved you more than anything, more than life itself. She gave you a mother’s unconditional love for years, and it protected you from harm in the most horrendous conditions you could ever imagine. The child you were somehow survived the dungeons of Heron Getracht, and it made you the warrior you are today. But, you survived only because of her! Never forget that fact. It was King Vantrax who stole you away, and it was he who took your childhood from you. He ripped you from the arms of your mother and he… He stole your memories too, it seems? I cannot believe you have no recollection of this? That you feel nothing for what he has done to you? The wizard you call your master destroyed everything you had. And he did it for one reason alone; profit! You were sold to the highest bidder in a slave auction. It is as simple as that. It was only by chance that you became a Sebantan Princess and returned to Estia alive… To serve him! He has no loyalty towards you. He uses you, just like he uses all of you who do his killing for him. He is a…!”

“No! You are wrong!” barked Melissa, her blood now boiling and her temper rising with every word. “He saved me. He brought me back from the dead!”

“Farak! That may be so. But, who else was going to lead your Sebantans for him?” replied Princess Zephany. “I really have to go, but think on this while I am fighting with my loyal subjects; if you did not command legions of warriors who do his bidding, without question, do you think he would have given your death a second thought? You are nothing to him, nothing but the hired help, a slave to his will. Look inside your soul. I tell you, your loyalty is misplaced.”

* * *

Tien, Harry, Jean and Graham made their way wearily through the Estian ranks until they reached the main square. The old wizard was holding the box of stones out in front of him for all to see, like a jubilant cup-winning captain at Wembley. The Estian warriors began clapping and cheering as soon as they saw it. The spirits and morale of the defenders were lifted immediately. Word spread like wildfire in their ranks. Each and every warrior determined to fight even harder than before, if that were possible, as they all dared to believe once again that they actually might survive this fight, and somehow prevail. They were clinging once more to the faintest of hopes; that the newly restored stones and the Keeper would save them. The enemy’s final assault would surely come very soon, but the Estians were going to meet it now head on, steeled by fresh resolve.

Princess Zephany rejoined the others, just as Tien walked through the lines. “Kah, welcome! Welcome to our little party, wizard. Tell me, is that box of yours restored at last? Will it work?” she asked as the old wizard reached her, with more than a hint of exhaustion and desperation in her voice.

Tien bowed his head to her respectfully. “Yes, I believe it will, Princess. Though, in truth, I think it only fair to warn you that only the Keeper will know for certain… And even Jake will only know for sure, once it is tested in battle.”

“Well, on that subject, where is he?” interrupted Graham, with some urgency. “Have you heard anything?”

Princess Zephany was a little taken aback to be interrupted in such a fashion. She looked the bizarrely attired strangers who were accompanying Tien and Jean up and down very quickly. Her eyes had been so firmly fixed upon the box and that alone, that she had not even noticed them. Now that she did however, their modern clothes and unmistakeable resemblance to Jake told her everything she needed to know. “Srr, you are… Jake’s father, I take it?” she asked of Graham. He nodded a firm and instant reply, behaving like a schoolboy who had just been scolded for speaking out of turn. “Then, I understand your concern. And you must be Harry, my father’s friend and the last Keeper, the one who helped my people so many times in years gone by, when they needed it?”

Harry bowed his head and took a step forward. “Yes, your majesty. I had that honour. King Artrex was the greatest man I ever knew. I am really sorry to have to inform you now that he has fallen in battle. He gave his life for his people, for all those on Rhuaddan and Estia. He met his end bravely and with honour, to bring them hope.”

Princess Zephany was half expecting to hear the news given her father’s injuries and predicament. She knew that his wounds were severe and that he was trapped within the walls of Dassilliak, surrounded by merciless Thargws with no realistic hope of escape. But still, the news shocked her and tears formed in her eyes as she was stunned into a temporary silence.

It lasted only a few seconds. She wanted to be able to grieve for him, to cry her heart out in fact. She wanted desperately to be able to react like any other child might respond at hearing such devastating news. But, Zephany wiped away her tears and looked around her at the faces of her friends, at all those who were depending on her to lead them. They needed their leader to stay strong and see them through this terrible ordeal. ‘I cannot deal with this right now. I cannot let it affect me,’ she realised. ‘I have to put it to the back of my mind and focus. I am in command and my people need me.’

She shook her head slightly to clear her mind. “No one must hear of this!” she ordered, her voice suddenly strong and resolute. “Do you all hear me? Not until the battle is won or lost. If we are to die here today, it will not matter, for we will all be joining my father shortly. However, if by some miracle we survive, we will mourn him in a manner befitting his sacrifice at a later date. And then, I promise you all, that we will honour his memory, his status, and his deeds.”

“Yes, we will abide by your wishes and tell no one, Queen Zephany,” answered Tien, speaking for them all.

Zephany was a little taken aback by the wizard’s deliberate choice of words. Strangely perhaps, it had not even occurred to her that she was now the Queen of Rhuaddan. It should have done she thought, but it hadn’t, and she now wore a mild look of surprise. “Queen..? Yes, thank you, Tien. This… This battle is far from over, and I am resolved to fight on. Nothing has changed in that regard, except for the fact that I may just be about to become the shortest living monarch in Estian history. Take shelter by the statue in the centre of the square and prepare for the attack, all of you. Srr… Jean?”

“Yes, your majesty?”

“There is someone held captive over there, someone I think you should all meet. You may not have much time with her, so I suggest you go immediately, without delay. Only, take my advice and do not get too close. She has claws.”

Everyone looked over at the prisoner who was seated on the ground. They could see only that it was a female warrior, but Jean’s heart began to beat faster and she looked up at Zephany as soon as she realised who it might be.

“Yes,” Zephany said, as soon as their eyes met, “the warrior you see before you is Princess Melissa of the Sebantah. She is a servant of King Vantrax, and she is your daughter.”

* * *

Jean, Harry and Graham approached Melissa cautiously, leaving Tien to discuss the box of stones and the Keeper’s chances of success with Princess Zephany. The Sebantan warrior immediately raised her head as she heard them approach, and her eyes were drawn instantly to the old lady in the centre of the small group. A thousand years of pain and suffering seemed to be etched into every wrinkle on her tanned and worn out face. And yet, she appeared gentle and kind to the seasoned warrior, loving almost?

Melissa felt certain that they had never met before. She had an excellent memory and she could not remember her face. But, Zephany’s words resonated within her like an echo that just would not fade, pricking her conscience and her memories at the same time, trying their hardest to unlock them both. Melissa’s gaze did not stray from the old woman and the captive warrior barely noticed the two males walking beside her, even when they halted their approach not two feet away.

“You, I suppose, are the one who claims to be my mother?” Melissa snarled. Her hostile reaction was a typical response for any Sebantan meeting a stranger for the first time. She was still refusing to entertain or believe the fantastic story she had been told, in spite of the strange and unfamiliar sensation she was feeling inside all of a sudden. Her heart was aching and she did not know why. All she knew for certain was that she felt a very real pain inside, one that would not go away.

“I do not claim to be your mother, child. I am,” said Jean, who was now shaking like a leaf on a tree. Her voice was soft and tender, even though it was trembling and full of nerves. Her next words were laced throughout with pure emotion. “I… I’m sorry but I hardly know what to say to you. I have dreamt of this day over and over, for many years, though inside I never thought I would live to see it. It was all that kept me alive. I had nothing and no one else. Now that it’s here and I have found you, I can’t believe that I am actually lost for words… I… I thought I would never see you again. I had given up all hope.”

Jean knelt down in front of her and tried to touch her face, but Melissa turned her head sharply away. “Raar! Do not touch me! I am not the person you seek. You are mistaken, old woman. I am a Sebantan Princess. A warrior!”

Jean was not deterred by Melissa’s reaction. Realising that she may have only a few moments to try to get through to her long lost daughter, she was determined to have her say. She reached out and turned the warrior’s face to hers, forcing her to look her in the eye. “You are the child who was taken from my arms in Heron Getracht. Regardless of what you think of us, or what you might say, you are my daughter. I gave you life and brought you into the world, I loved you as much as any mother could, and I tried to protect you… But, you are hurt. Here…”

She ripped off her sleeve and began bandaging the wound. Melissa was shocked by her actions but she did not object. As Jean continued to work, she stared up at the two weirdly dressed males before her. “And who might you two be?” she asked, her voice still full of contempt. It was though, no longer full of hatred. There was a very subtle change in tone, which was not lost upon Jean. The old lady gave a little smile, which went completely unnoticed as Harry replied.

“I am your father, your real father. Long ago, I was a Keeper. Jake is my grandson, so I guess that makes us…?”

“You?! You are King Vantrax’ sworn enemy? Seriously? You are the one he sent Sawdon to kill, the one who defeated his armies and saved King Artrex? But, you are…!” began Melissa.

“An old man?” asked Harry, guessing correctly at her meaning. He immediately began to laugh, much to Melissa’s anger and frustration, and she rose slightly to challenge him.

“Raar! Why do you mock me now? Be very careful, I will cut out your tongue!”

“Hey! Steady on! Calm down, please? No, you misunderstand. I do not mock you as you suggest. Not in the way you believe anyway,” explained Harry. “I am sorry if I offended you. I was just thinking that your reaction was so similar to one I would have expected from somebody else, that’s all. I was surprised by it, and it tickled me. I apologise, okay?”

Melissa relaxed a little and sat back down. “Yes… I will take your apology, given the circumstances. But, we are still enemies you and I,” answered Melissa. “Even if all you say is true, I am not your daughter now. I was raised on Mynae and I am Sebantan. I am proud of that fact and I love my people. I am not from your world. You cannot undo all that I have been taught, just as I cannot deny all that I am. No matter what you say here, you cannot change my beliefs.”

“No, you’re right. We know,” replied Harry. “However, seeing as you are held captive right now and cannot kill us, for however long it may last, we can at least try to explain what happened? We owe you that much. After all, you have no choice but to listen to our words, do you?”

Melissa looked up at her guard. She knew Harry was right about the last part, but the smile on his lips as he said it, upset her further. Harry sat down in front of her and seemed to be preparing to deliver an intense lecture. The hardened warrior looked quickly at Jean, who was still tending to her wound. She was smiling happily, as if she hadn’t a care in the world. Melissa was confused, she could not think straight. The situation was so surreal that she felt like she was being ripped apart inside. ‘Everything I stand for, everything I have fought for, is a lie! The only thing I have in my life which is not, are my Sebantans. They would all die for me I know, as I would gladly sacrifice my life for them. I must do what is right for my warriors.’

“He’s right you know,” Graham stated, all of a sudden breaking the silence, before Harry could begin his tale. He sat down next to his father. “…I can’t imagine what you’re thinking right now. It’s a topsy-turvy world we’ve entered and no mistake. I’m Graham by the way, I’m your brother. That won’t mean anything to you I know but, as hard as it is for you to take in right now, we are your true family. You were snatched from us. We were the ones who were wronged in all of this. You may see us as the enemy, but in reality we are the victims here. You won’t like it but it is true; you are on the wrong side in this war. You fight against your own nephew. And now, you wage war against your entire family!”

* * *

As the rest of the West family tried their hardest to explain their history and convince Melissa that they were telling the truth, the youngest and most powerful amongst them was seriously wounded. He was being carried through the streets of Te’oull by his Falorian friend, Verastus. The gentle giant’s strength was failing him rapidly but he refused to give up, or relax the incredible pace he had set. And it was an astonishing, remarkable pace, given his own severe injury.

Ben was leading the way, clearing a path through all the retreating Estian warriors, in his own inimitable style. “Oi! Out of the way you lot! Look out, will ya? Make a hole! World saviour coming through!”

Eventually, they reached the square and ran straight into the section commanded by Lord Caro. “Jake!” the Perosyan Champion shouted, as soon as he caught sight of them. Jake’s complexion was now worryingly white. He looked awful, as if he might die at any second. “What happened?!” asked Caro.

“He ran straight into a Thargw… Sawdon,” replied Ben.

Caro’s eyes lit up when he heard the great warrior’s name. “Sawdon? Where was he when you saw him last?”

“Don’t worry about it, I got him,” Ben answered proudly, as they continued to push their way through to the square.

Caro grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. “What do you mean? You actually killed Sawdon?”

“Yes, I did… That is, I think so. I didn’t actually see him fall, but I hit him in the chest with an axe, and that’s enough to kill anyone. It was the throw of the century actually, you should’ve seen it.”

“No! No. It is not enough, not for Sawdon!” interrupted Caro. “I say again, where were you? Exactly!”

Ben tried to explain their whereabouts as best he could while they continued to walk. “Excellent,” said the Perosyan knight, as soon the youngster had finished. “Thank you Ben, you have been a great help. Now, please inform the Princess where I have gone.”

“What?! Don’t be silly!” Ben pleaded, realising with shock Caro’s intent. “He’s a monster. He’s probably dead anyway. And there are thousands of ‘em out there!”

Lord Caro began to laugh at Ben’s response. “Ha ha ha… I know all of that. I have not lost my senses, Ben. I will not venture out alone. But, I am a warrior, a leader. I will command from the front, for it is my way, and I believe it to be correct. Our warriors need to know that we share their hardship, their pain and suffering. And, if I do by some miracle come across Sawdon, I promise you that I shall finish what you have begun.”

* * *

A short while later, Verastus staggered into the main square carrying a half dead Jake in his arms. He tried his hardest to reach the spot where Princess Zephany was standing waiting for them, but he fell exhausted onto the ground before he was even half way there, dropping Jake awkwardly onto the cobbled stones.

“Verastus! Jake!” screamed Ben, as he watched on helplessly from behind, having not quite managed to catch up. Oddly, he rushed to the Falorian first.

“No Ben, not me, see to Jake,” Verastus protested, struggling to speak in a very weak voice. His head fell backwards onto the ground almost immediately and Ben realised with great distress that his friend was unconscious. He scampered desperately around to Jake. The young Keeper opened his eyes, he was also very weak, but he managed a little smile.

“Hey, Ace, he made it then? Looks like the tables have turned, eh? It makes a change for me to be the one who is hurt.”

“Yeah mate, but we’ll be fine, won’t we?” answered Ben, his voice shaky as tears fell from his eyes.

“You want it straight? I’m not sure this time,” replied Jake. “I’m feeling really dodgy, pal. My back’s killing me.”

“No… No it bloody well is not!” stated Ben, emotionally. “It’s a scratch, that’s all. A pathetic little attention seeker. Tien’ll fix it for ya, you’ll see.” He looked up and was relieved to see the old wizard making his way towards them, along with the others. “Oi, Tien! Come on! Get your ass over here now!” he yelled.

“Hey!” gasped Jake. “Ben, leave it out, will ya? That’s no way to talk to a three hundred year old wizard you know, not after all he’s done.”

“Eh?” replied Ben, who was now seriously concerned for the health of his best friend. He had never seen anyone looking so ill, literally like death warmed up, as if he was about to meet his maker. “…Yeah well, that’s just me, innit? If he don’t like it, he can lump it, can’t he?”

Ben stopped talking. His face lost all colour and he looked up helplessly at his friends, as he realised with immense shock and horror that Jake had just stopped breathing!