The Keeper of the Stones

Chapter 26



Morning of 15th August – Battle of Erriard Forest – Part 3



King Artrex and Ben were galloping out of the forest on the King’s horse as fast as they possibly could, with the battle raging on either side of them. Knesh Corian and his small band of brave volunteers were facing an army of fast approaching Falorians and Thargws, all of them intent on gaining revenge on the rebels who had killed so many of their comrades. The situation was looking bleak for the soldiers of the Ruddite Rebellion.

But elsewhere, a small group of six rebels were inching their way along a natural depression on the battlefield which housed a small, shallow stream. It ran from the southern edge of Erriard forest, all the way across the Astelli Plains, to within a hundred yards of the ridge on which Vantrax and Strymos now stood. The group had been assembled and despatched in complete secrecy in the early hours of that morning by Knesh Corian. He had spotted the culvert and determined to make use of it, summoning to him one of his most able soldiers, a trusted and respected warrior called Sebron, whom he’d tasked to immediately seek volunteers for the most dangerous of missions – the assassination of King Vantrax!

Sebron had volunteered himself to lead the mission immediately and without hesitation. He’d also stated that he knew of five others who could be trusted and would gladly undertake the task. Sebron was born into a Rhuaddan noble family whose properties and lands had included the extremely profitable mine at Dingarth. But his title and all of his lands had been ‘lost’ when they were forfeited some years later to King Vantrax, in a will supposedly left by his late father. The young Sebron had vigorously disputed the will at that time, knowing it to be false, he’d fought for years against corrupt officials to get it annulled, but it was finally upheld in favour of Vantrax and Sebron lost everything that he and his family owned. He’d sworn to take revenge upon the wizard King from that day and he had waited patiently for any chance to get close enough to him, but Vantrax had retreated into his great fortress at Heron Getracht, and Sebron had feared that he would never be able to fulfil his vow.

Sebron was now in his early thirties. He was tall and lean and ruggedly handsome. He had served for years with distinction in the rebel army and become a great favourite of both Knesh and Artrex. The five soldiers who now accompanied him on the perilous mission they’d volunteered for were all former servants in his household, or farmed his lands. He trusted them all completely, every one of them was fiercely loyal to him and all had good reason to hate Vantrax and his soldiers, who d deprived them of their dwellings and livelihood.

The small group of soldiers had crept silently away from the rebel lines just before dawn using the cover of darkness. They had crawled the fifty feet or so to the stream without being seen and inched their way quietly along the small embankment to the closest point to the ridge that they could reach, all the time remaining obscured from view by the undulation of the land. All six soldiers carried longswords but three of them, including Sebron himself, also carried bows. On nearing the ridge, they were frustrated at first to find that their view of Vantrax had been obscured by the soldiers of his Personal Guard, who were positioned between them and their royal target. They’d waited patiently for the situation to change and Sebron had personally maintained a constant vigil on the embankment, having become obsessed with completing his task regardless of the consequences to him and his men.

Sebron now wiped away the sweat from his brow and looked again at the ridge. He could just make out a hand, it was raised in the air and it appeared above the heads of the soldiers on the plain, obviously belonging to someone on the ridge above. The hand fell suddenly and then disappeared from Sebron’s sight. He watched in awe as all of the soldiers on the Astelli Plain below the ridge began to move in unison, as the second wave of Northern Army soldiers began their attack on the rebels in the forest.

The soldiers of Vantrax’ Personal Guard suddenly began to part, they all moved closer to the edge of the ridge to gain a better view of the spectacle unfolding on the fields below. Sebron found himself with a clear view of Vantrax and his Gerada, both of them now visible from the waist upwards as the contour of the land between them obscured the lower halves of their bodies. Sebron reached for his bow, but Strymos suddenly disappeared from sight and he foolishly hesitated, as his curiosity overcame him. More Personal Guard soldiers then quickly marched past their position. The crowd that developed obscured his view again and he was dismayed to find that his clear shot had gone, although he could still make out bits and pieces of the King between the bodies of the soldiers in front of him.

He saw Strymos return swiftly to Vantrax’ side. He was carrying what looked like a small bowl. Sebron was struggling to find a clear view of his enemies, then they both disappeared from sight altogether for a while as they knelt down to look into the bowl, re-emerging minutes later when both of them leapt to their feet. Sebron couldn’t believe what he was seeing; the King and his Gerada appeared to be arguing. His view cleared a little as the Guard soldiers began to disperse on the edge of the ridge. He found himself now looking directly at King Vantrax, across a relatively short distance.

This was the chance he’d been waiting for! Years and years of hurt and suffering came flooding back into his mind as he immediately and silently summoned his five companions. The soldiers responded quickly. All three archers took up positions on the embankment, drew back their bows and took aim, all of them firing at the same target on Sebron’s orders - King Vantrax!

Sebron wanted to take no chances. He wanted to ensure that the King would die. He let his own arrow fly as soon as he was able, anxious not to miss the opportunity that had presented itself. A split second later, it was joined by the arrows of the other two archers as it sped straight and true, through the morning air, and towards the evil King.

Vantrax was standing next to Strymos with his hand still firmly grasping the Lichtus, he was just about to place it back around his neck. But sudly, it began to glow, warning the King that he was in imminent danger of attack!

The wizard spotted the light and reacted quickly. He turned sharply around and shouted out loudly as the lead arrow neared him.

“Zsabrutt!”



A great shield of bright light shone out of the Lichtus and covered Vantrax from head to toe. Sebron’s arrow hit the wall of light almost immediately and shattered into several pieces, as if it had hit a brick-built wall. It was followed closely by the second and third arrows, which suffered the same fate, both of them smashing against the light and dropping into broken pieces on the ground.

The immediate danger to Vantrax had passed. The stone suddenly stopped shining, the shield of light vanished and Vantrax and Strymos immediately began searching the area with their eyes, trying frantically to identify the point of origin for the attack.

Suddenly, their gaze and attention was drawn to several soldiers moving rapidly from a position on the fields below the ridge. They turned slightly to see the six rebels running toward them at speed, with swords in their hands and ferocious looks upon their faces, screaming out fiercely as they charged towards their intended victims with pure hatred in their eyes.

The soldiers of the Personal Guard who were close enough to the King began to respond to the threat as they saw it. It was clear that they’d easily intercept the slowest rebels, but the lead three, led by Sebron himself, were already too close to the King to be stopped. Strymos reached for his sword as they approached. Vantrax still held the Lichtus in his left hand, he raised it quickly and pointed the stone and his right hand at the first three attackers, shouting out angrily.

“Delak Tostederud!”



Three bright bolts of lightning shot out of the ends of the fingers on his right hand. They hit the three soldiers in turn, instantly vaporising them and turning them into piles of smoking ash, which fell to the ground where they were hit. The last three rebels were caught and hacked to death violently and enthusiastically by soldiers of the Guard.

The attacker’s ashes were blowing away gently in the breeze. The wizard King fell to the floor in a heap. Strymos did his best to help his stricken master stand up. Vantrax had survived the attempt on his life. But, he was now severely weakened from the effects of having to unexpectedly use the Lichtus once again. For the moment at least, he was powerless to prevent the retreating rebels escaping from Erriard forest!

He couldn’t use the Lichtus as he had hoped and planned to do. He was exhausted and utterly drained.

* * *



Artrex and Ben followed the last of their horsemen out of Erriard forest. They had narrowly escaped from the very real threat of encirclement and they were just in the nick of time!

The rebel ‘corridor’ of defenders succumbed to the enemy onslaught almost immediatelynd the Northern Army soldiers broke through on both sides. The remnants of the Rebel Army were now cut off and surrounded, still fighting bravely in several isolated pockets of resistance, but they now knew for sure that they faced certain annihilation.

Knesh and his group of rebels were locked in a bitter hand to hand fight against the ferocious Thargws and Falorians who now overwhelmed their position. The Falorians in particular were proving a deadly foe, using their long spears to good effect and taking a terrible toll on the defenders. The Thargws were in their element and thoroughly enjoying their day, despite their losses. They excelled at close quarter combat and it wasn’t long before Knesh found himself and his ever dwindling group of men retreating on all sides, until they eventually formed a small defensive circle which continued diminishing in size, as rebel after rebel was killed.

Only a handful remained with Knesh to the end, the bravest and fittest among them. But it was no use. The far superior forces they faced were too skilful and too numerous. Knesh was totally exhausted now, he was bloodied all over from scores of minor wounds and the blood of the countless enemies he’d killed or wounded covered him. He was physically shattered and his body ached all over, his throat was so dry he could hardly swallow, sweat, blood and dirt covered his face and stung his eyes. He knew that the end was near, the enemy just kept on coming, no matter what they did! There was no respite, there was no way out of the battle this time, and Knesh knew it. All the enemy had to do now, was end it.

And then they stopped!

They stopped. ‘Why had they stopped?’

All of the enemy soldiers in front of him and on both sides had suddenly disengaged from the fight! They had all taken a few deliberate steps backwards, encircling the pathetic remnants of the Rebel Army and bearing down on them, poised to strike. Knesh couldn’t understand what was happening.

Then, the ranks of enemy soldiers ahead of him began to disperse, starting from the rear and moving forwards, until the front rank parted and through them all walked the mighty figure of Sawdon, his sword, mouth and whole body strewn with the blood of his victims and his eyes wide, his nostrils flared and all of his razor sharp teeth showing, as he smiled broadly.

Sawdon strode confidently and aggressively towards Knesh with his sword raised. But as he reached the Gerada, two of the rebels standing between them launched a sudden, surprise attack upon the Thargw, viciously thrusting at him with their swords in a valiant, if suicidal attempt, to protect their leader.

Sawdon reacted to the sudden frenzy with extraordinary skill and speed. He killed both of the attacking rebels quickly with two economic thrusts of his own battlesword as his body swayed to avoid their attacks. They fell dead on the floor at his feet. Sawdon then nonchalantly stepped over them to reach Knesh. He looked the Gerada up and down with contempt.

“Rarrr! Here we are at last! The ‘great’ Knesh Corian.” he growled mockingly, playing to the crowd of eager Thargws that had gathered around closely and now surrounded them. “Caught in the trap like a common rachtis. Ra! You have nowhere to run now, rebel. Nowhere to hide yourself away this time. Rrrr... I have longed for this day for too long. I have seen it in my dreams, the day that you and I would meet and fight. Now we will see who is the mightiest warrior, you or I. Now we will fight as we have never fought before. And we will show these soldiers once ar all who is the best!” he snarled menacingly.

But to Sawdon’s surprise, Knesh was smiling back at him.

“You need to get out more. Do what you will, Sawdon,” he replied, “the fact remains that my King has gone. You are too late. He lives to fight another day. Whatever ‘victory’ you have won here, it is incomplete. And you still...”

“Yes, Knesh. But, we will hunt him down!” interrupted Sawdon angrily. “You will have sold your life cheaply. And what will he do now, without you to guide him? We will capture him soon enough. Dead or alive, he will be brought before my King. And that little girl of his.”

Knesh’ eyes flinched at the mention of Zephany. Sawdon had provoked a small, involuntary reaction and Knesh was angry at himself for letting him see it.

“Ah, yes. The girl, Zephany. She will be enslaved and made to work in Lidzenstor. Or else she will be wed to a Dzorag, they know how to treat their women. Who knows, I may avail myself of her before....”

Sawdon didn’t have time to finish his sentence. Knesh suddenly launched himself at him with a flurry of violent attacks which the Thargw defended expertly, as if he was expecting them. It was a masterclass of swordsmanship and the Thargw warrior laughed out loud.

“Ha ha... Good! Very good!” he said, as they each paused for a moment to catch their breath. “I see your reputation is well earned. I am going to enjoy this!” he continued, as he paced slowly around Knesh searching for the best angle to attack him from.

Then, with lightning speed, Sawdon jumped onto the exhausted Knesh. Blow after blow reigned down upon the warrior’s sword, but once again they were expertly repulsed, Knesh even managing to find the strength to launch a few attacks of his own in retaliation.

It was the fight of fights! Two experts of their profession locked in a bitter and deadly duel to the death, neither of them giving, nor expecting, any quarter. And both of them fighting with speed, aggression and skill.

The amazed and enthralled Thargws and Falorians looked on excitedly as they fought. They began cheering and clapping wildly, whilst the doomed rebels watched the proceedings at the end of swordpoints, realising that they were about to die, but able to do nothing to save themselves.

The fight lasted a long, long time. Both warriors inflicted cuts and wounds on their opponent but none of them were serious and it seemed to the onlookers that the fight would never end. Finally, Sawdon’s superior strength began to prove decisive. Knesh was exhausted and he was a little too slow in parrying the final thrust of Sawdon’s sword. It plunged deep into his side, the Thargw ripping it out immediately but lifting it upwards as he did so with expertise, so that the blade would inflict maximum damage upon its victim.

It was a mortal wound and Knesh dropped his sword. He sank to his knees gasping for breath as the giant figure of Sawdon moved forward to tower over him. Sawdon kicked his sword away and then looked at the Thargws who surrounded them. He too was now exhausted, but he felt totally exhilarated and he shouted proudly to his countrymen.

“Behold. The best they have!”

The mighty warrior lifted his sword high in triumph as Knesh lay dying on the floor. The Thargws and Falorians cheered loudly and began to chant his ame. Sawdon let it continue for a while and then he held up his hand to stop the noise. Once the cheering had finally died down, all of the Northern Army soldiers looked expectantly at Sawdon.

The Thargw looked down upon the stricken Knesh. He lifted his head by placing his sword under the warrior’s chin and then, staring straight into his eyes, he leant down and spoke quietly to him.

“A good fight, soldier.” he whispered respectfully.

Then he swung his battlesword and cut off Knesh’ head in one foul swipe. It fell at Sawdon’s feet. He picked up the head by its hair and showed it to the rapturous crowd. The Thargws and Falorians were all overcome with joy and they celebrated their victory by mercilessly massacring the terrified rebels who had helplessly witnessed the events unfold, ripping them to pieces with sword, claws and teeth.

The Battle of Erriard Forest was over!