by Bill Smith
"Will you please be my wife?" Doronar asked.
Lily gasped, and tried not to show her shock to the whole crowd. "What?" she said in a strangled voice. The humans were just as surprised as she was, but the rest of the court was waiting expectantly for her answer.
Doronar was conferring quietly with Boldar. He looked at her and said, "I think it's in gratitude. There are marriage restrictions regarding royalty here in Draconia, but since Sorasa just promoted you to royalty, that doesn't stand in your way any more."
"What do I tell him?" Lily asked.
"Do you want to be his wife?" Boldar asked.
"Of course not!"
"Well whatever you say, you better come up with a damn good excuse," Gollren said from the corner of his mouth.
Sweat began to form on Lily's brow and she swallowed. "But-But what do I tell him?"
"I think he's getting suspicious," Sh'kara said. "Look at his tail twitch."
"Doronar!" Lily said. "Do something!"
"Maybe we can distract him," Boldar said.
"Yeah? How?"
"Make a diversion," Boldar suggested.
"You want me to start dancing around in circles?" Doronar demanded.
"That would only stall him," Sh'kara said. Then she cried, "Oh, I've got it!"
"What?" Lily said.
"Explain that you would love to but you-"
Suddenly Doronar grunted in pain and grabbed his head. He staggered to the side and Boldar caught him.
"Doronar, don't do this. We weren't serious!" Boldar exclaimed. "You're going to make a spectacle in front of the whole court!"
Doronar's eyes were wide open, staring into space. "Oh gods," he said.
"Doronar, don't do th-aaaah!" Boldar's face contorted in pain as Doronar's hand squeezed the Lienite's wrist.
Then Doronar fell over, dragging Boldar after him. They both fell in a boneless heap.
Lily ran to his side and said, "Thanks, Doronar."
Boldar stood up and brushed his robe. In an annoyed voice, he told Sorasa that something was wrong with Doronar.
Lily put her hand on his forehead and said, "Should I say that I need to take you away to care for you? I could-"
Doronar shook his head and he stumbled to his feet. Before Lily could say anything else, Doronar began spewing out a mixture of Draconian and Common, to the prince. Only a few words came out that Lily heard: "war", "Minion", and "Arraka's Flame."
Rinas and Sorasa looked horrified by the time Doronar had finished. The entire court was agape, and probably murmuring to themselves telepathically. Some spoke verbal Draconian, and they did not sound very happy. Rinas spoke to Sorasa, and the prince's face hardened. He turned to his father, who simply bobbed his head.
Sorasa roared at his Draconians, and as one, they leaped up, wings flapping. With a cry, Lily ducked. Air whooshed around the room for a few moments. The sky was darkened as the Draconians climbed to the sky. Then the dragons broke apart into the beginning of a formation and disappeared into the clouds.
Doronar started toward the door, but Lily grabbed his shoulder. "What did you say to them?" she demanded.
"The Legion and thousands of refugees are waiting outside of Arraka's Flame," Doronar said. "The Minion are only a few hours away, and if we don't help them then Arraka's Flame will be destroyed."
"Why did you say-" Then it dawned on Lily. He wasn't making it up. "Oh gods," she said. "What happened? What did you see?"
Doronar pulled her after him, toward Rinas, who was helping a servant afix another saddle to Tal, Rinas's dragon. "There are thousands and thousands of humans waiting outside Arraka's Flame. I saw King Borric there."
"What would he be doing there?"
When Rinas and the servant finished with the saddle, Doronar gestured to the seat. "What are we doing?" she asked.
"We're going up there," Doronar said.
"Up where?"
"To the temple."
Lily let Doronar put her in the saddle, then said, "But why?"
"We're going to kill the Minion."
Ghin and Borric stood on the king's dais, where he would be able to survey the final battle with the Minion. Far to the southwest, they could see faint hues of orange tinting the clouds. No sound could be heard, but Borric could imagine the snarls and inhuman howls of the Minion as they burned the village to the ground. Most likely the village was empty, because the Althorians had just come through there a few hours ago, and the villagers had consented to haul ass out of there.
The Minion weren't actually a few hours away as the crow flies, but the Minion would have to build a bridge across a river, about five miles from the temple. The Legion had destroyed the bridge after all the Althorians had crossed it.
"You might want to give the people a speech," Ghin said. "They're going to want some inspiration before your entire army is massacred."
"What?" Borric said. "You mean we're going to lose?"
"I didn't say that, I just said your army is going to be slaughtered."
Arraka's Flame was one of the most breath-taking sights in the Highlands. It was a huge pyramid, surrounded by four stone dragons (each one was about a hundred yards high, less than half the height of the pyramid) and the living quarters for the Arrakans. Atop the pyramid was a huge flame that had burned since the beginning of time, said the Dragon. It had burned for as long as recorded history, at least.
The Dragon wouldn't allow any of the Althorians inside the perimeter set up by the stone dragons, so hundreds of tents had been erected along the border, under the watchful eyes of the Dragon. Any person who tried to get inside the temple's perimeter was forcibly removed. So people stayed outside the temple and sat in uneasy bunches, murmuring to each other and trying to keep their spirits up.
Most of the people had continued on toward Arangrad, even though the Minion was chasing them and gaining. Those Althorians who didn't continue to Arangrad stayed on the north side of the temple.
South of the temple, the forest was being clearcut to make weapons before the Minion's arrival. According to Ghin, the Minion would be at the temple within hours. The Legion would spend those few hours learning open-field battle tactics and the Minion's open-field habits.
Ranon drew his hood up, hoping to shield out the oppressive night. Something was in the air, and it was definitely unpleasant. Just before dusk, the snow had stopped falling, and darker clouds had moved in to replace the snow clouds. The lanterns that hung from every street corner seemed to dim, casting their light only a few feet. The rest rest of the roads were shrouded in darkness.
After a few minutes of walking, Ranon felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. As he took each step, a feeling of unease began to creep up on him. Soon, his palms were sweaty and he had to physically resist the temptation to look behind him.
At one of the street corners, Ranon stopped with his hand on the wall. He looked down each street, but could only see the other barely-illuminated street corners fading into the distance. The sensations abated, but he could still feel the residual fear.
With a shake of his head, Ranon continued back to the hostel.
Alyssa's eyes opened. It was pitch black. The fire had gone out.
For a moment, Alyssa considered leaving it that way, but for some reason she felt an overwhelming desire for light. She threw off the covers and walked over to the fireplace. There were still a few embers.
As Alyssa built up the fire, the room seemed to darken, instead of brighten. Out of the corners of her eyes, she saw little flashes of movement, but when she turned to look, nothing was there. It took her longer than usual, because her hands seemed clumsy. She fumbled with the tinder box as she pulled it off the mantle, but soon had the initial birch shavings lit. When the fire was blazing and when its light was dancing across the walls, Alyssa felt a little more secure, but she was still unsettled.
Alyssa sat by the fireplace for an hour before returning to the bed.
Garen strode confidently through the streets of Mogehal, ignoring the stares drawn from the Minion around him. It was a dark city now. The perpetual gloom that dominated the Darklands had now infected Allanon, or Mogehal as it had been named, the newest city of Tir's empire.
Though this next day would be one of the most monumental in the history of this dimension, Garen could not interfere or be part of that history. And it was better that way. Up until now, Garen had been working in the background, preparing for the Gate, and his time was finally here. Regardless of the outcome of Kra's battle with Aleya, and regardless of the outcome of the battle in the Highlands, Garen would build the Gate, and Tir's wrath would finally be released into Tirn Aill.
Borim grabbed Lia's shoulder. "Where have you been!" he cried. "I've been searching for you two for a week, dammit!"
Lia turned to face him. "Sorry, Borim. We've been a little busy."
"Listen, where's Aleya?" he asked. "Where did she go?"
"She's still fighting with Kra," Lia said. "And I suspect she will be until this is over with."
"Until what's over with?"
Bolthorn looked over their heads at the tents sprawling in every direction. It looked as though every person in Althoria had come here. But most had elected to move on to Arangrad, hoping that the Minion would not hunt them down and slaughter them. There were no more than ten or twenty thousand that had remained at the temple, but very few intended on helping in the upcoming battle.
The cowards.
"Until the war is over with," Lia said. "You should quit worrying about her, because she can take care of herself."
"But I need to-"
"Gods, you're stupid," Lia said. "Can't you grasp the concept that Aleya is fighting with a god? A god. Kra could annihilate you with less than a thought, if he chose to. In fact, it's probably better he doesn't know you exist. If he did, then he would use you against Aleya, and she would probably die because you went charging in to help her."
Borim was silent for a moment, then said, "Where is she?"
Lia gestured to the clouds above them, which were still in turmoil.
"Can I see her?"
"Can you see her?"
"Yes. I want to see what's going on. Can you show me?"
"Why would you think she could do that?" Bolthorn asked. He knew very well that Lia had the power, but how could-
"Because the Oracle could if he tried, and Lia is a lot stronger than the Oracle."
Lia raised an eyebrow, then sighed, "I suppose so. Come with me." She led them to a sort of empty spot in the field and sat down. Bolthorn and Borim sat next to her, and she waved her hand over the ground. A reflective pool of water seeped out of the grass, and began coagulating into a circle.
The clouds were a violent mass of gray shades; they would occasionally leap hundreds of feet into the air, as if reaching for the stars. Rifts and other anomalies would fold into existence and then disappear. Lightning tore through the battlefield constantly, and only occasionally did it look as though it aimed for something. Thousands of creatures battled on both sides, oblivious to the pandemonium around them.
Aleya floated in a sphere of calm, about a hundred feet in diameter. She threw bolts of fire, lightning, and energy at Kra, who met them with his own. That was her only attack, though. Kra was attacking more often, with more creatures, and with more ferocity. It seemed only a matter of time before he defeated her. Again.
Then the pool disappeared.
Lia put her hands over her face and took a deep breath.
"Do you see why she doesn't need you any more?" Bolthorn said.
Borim stared at the grass for a few moments, then said, "What do I do now, then?"
"What?" Bolthorn asked.
"I have no purpose in life," Borim said, getting up. "I was supposed to protect Aleya. She's my life, and now that she's a goddess, or whatever, I can do nothing."
"All I can say is help protect Althoria," Bolthorn said.
"What? You mean fight?" Borim asked.
Bolthorn nodded.
Then Borim looked into the sky, as if his vision could penetrate the roiling clouds and see Aleya. Borim clenched and unclenched his hands a few times, then said, "Excuse me. I need to go for a walk."
The boy strode off into the Althorians. When he was gone, Bolthorn looked at Lia. Dark circles surrounded her eyes, and dirt covered her face. She was exhausted.
Bolthorn patted her shoulder and stood up. "I, uh, think I'll go find your friend Jonas."
The bathing caverns were huge. Over thirty baths were strewn throughout this room, each of them creating enough steam to give the air a semblence of thick soup.
Though extravagant, with many types of soaps and oils, the bathing caverns were gender-neutral. Laurel and Janisa weren't terribly modest, but the Draconians were scary, and neither girl wanted to be naked in a room full of dragons. So they came a couple hours past midnight, when everyone else was asleep or gone. Tonight, their chances of encountering another dragon were slim. Not only was it past midnight, but for some reason, nearly half of the dragons in the castle had disappeared.
"Gods, this water is hot," Laurel said when she resurfaced. She pulled her hair back behind her head and wiped her eyes.
Janisa sat on the edge of the tub with just her feet dangling in the water. "I don't know if I should get in then."
Laurel grinned at her friend and said, "Your position right there is just perfect." She slipped across the water and put her hands on the inside of Janisa's knees. Laurel gently pushed apart her friend's legs and grinned up at her. "Been a while, huh?"
Janisa closed her eyes when she felt Laurel's tongue touching her lower lips. A sigh escaped her mouth as the half-elf skillfully probed her nether regions. Laurel's hands slipped to Janisa's buttocks, and she began kneading the soft skin.
Just as Janisa was beginning to lose herself in the pleasure, she heard footsteps. Her eyes flew open and she hissed, "Laurel, somebody's coming!"
Laurel pulled away and said, "Quick, get into the water!" Then she pulled on Janisa.
With a startled squawk, Janisa tumbled forward and landed on top of Laurel. Both girls splashed into the water and flailed around for a few moments. When Janisa surfaced again, her ears met the sound of laughter.
She wiped her eyes and looked to the source. Sh'kara, Gollren's prostitute, was standing above the pool, holding her stomach she was laughing so hard. Laurel surfaced a few feet over and looked up at Sh'kara.
"What are you doing here?" Laurel asked.
"I was coming to take a bath," Sh'kara said. "I don't like the idea of a hundred dragons ogling me while I wash myself."
Laurel and Janisa glanced at each other and Laurel said, "Neither do we."
"No surprise," Sh'kara said. "These dragons are pretty unnerving." She removed her skimpy shirt and shorts, then slipped into the water with the girls. With a sigh, the redhead leaned against the opposite wall of the pool and said, "I heard you two will be staying here."
Laurel nodded and swallowed. "Prince Sorasa liked us, so we'll be his personal concubines from now on."
"He's royalty, girl. Feel proud."
Laurel shook her head emphatically. "You said you're even scared of these dragons! I don't-"
Sh'kara held up a hand. "No I didn't. I said I didn't like them ogling me. They don't scare me. They did at first, but now I see they're perfectly normal creatures. Just with strange customs."
"With scales and claws," Janisa said.
"Exactly."
Laurel said, "I don't like them."
"You'll get used to it. But at least you've got a while before they get back. It'll give you time to prepare yourself, mentally."
"Get back?" Janisa said.
"They've gone to the Highlands to save Arraka's Flame."
"What's that?"
"Beats me," Sh'kara shrugged. "But they should be gone for a few weeks, at least. You can prepare yourself for fucking a dragon by the time he gets back. Unless some of the other dragons of the house want you. I'm not sure what their rules are, though."
Janisa gave a strangled cry.
"Don't worry about it," Sh'kara said. "You saw him. He's got a body shape pretty much like a human."
"Except that he's got scales and claws and wings," Laurel said.
"My point is that I don't think he's much bigger than a human."
"How do you know?" Janisa asked. "His proportions might be different from humans."
"Doubt it," said Sh'kara. "Judging from the size of all the other dragons' cocks I've seen, I'd have to say they're as similar in proportion to their bodies as humans' are."
"Interesting," Janisa said.
"I guess so," Sh'kara said, then submerged herself beneath the water. She popped back up and shook her hair. "It's no wonder Shain paid so much for you two," Sh'kara said with an appraising look at the two of them. "I still think Gollren should've asked for money."
Laurel and Janisa said nothing.
Sh'kara looked at the two for a moment and said, "You two should feel good about this. You'll be among the first humans to live in this country for thousands of years. It's pretty monumental if you think about it."
Laurel and Janisa looked at each other.
A mile-thick ring of grassland surrounded Arraka's Flame, and then became the dense forest that characterized the Highlands. The Eternal Flame, burning from atop the pyramid, shed light all the way across the fields, and beyond.
The Althorians were crowded around the north end of the temple's perimeter, in hastily-built tents and shelters. The Althorian Legion, much smaller than the number of Althorian citizens, was camped along the temple's south perimeter, and were listening to Borric's final speech of inspiration. Most of them would not come out alive, but their sacrifice here could very well save the rest of the Highlands.
Olrick had hoped that his trap had killed most of the remaining Minion, but Ghin had informed him that another 60,000 were still alive in other parts of the Highlands and Althoria. They were the ones that had gathered north of Althorien and begun following them. But then, there were still more Minion in the Mistlands.
Now, though, everyone's concern was the immediate threat. The Althorian Legion numbered about half of the Minion army, which already meant they were outmatched. If the Minion were composed entirely of orcs or goblins, then the humans might stand a chance, but there were Shadows, trolls, ogres, Darknesses, and numerous other creatures of evil. In a fair fight, the humans didn't stand a chance.
Ghin projected that one human was killed for every three or four orcs, which was decent on an open battlefield. But trolls killed about six humans for every loss of their own. Ogres doubled that number. Shadows were about as skillful as humans, but their nightswords were poisonous; anyone wounded with a sword died within an hour unless they were healed, so the Shadows ended up slaying four humans for every one of their own losses. And Darknesses weren't worth calculating. They were one of the highest ranking Minion, and the most deadly.
All things considered, the human army would have to be five times as large as the Minion army if they were to win an open battlefield conflict. The number of humans at the temple was nearly that large, but that included the citizens of Althoria. Women, children, and everyone not enlisted in the Legion. Most of the Althorians had fled to Arangrad, but some had stayed behind with the army.
Daren sat on the dais with his father, and looked up at Arraka's Flame. He had already prayed to the Dragon God, but no answer was forthcoming.
As he had expected.
Daren heard people speaking behind him, and he turned around. They were pointing to the south end of the field.
A knot formed in Daren's stomach, and he stood up. By the time he had walked to the south end of the dais, sweat had coated his palms. At the south end of the battlefield, about a mile away, the last Minion army was building up.
Lia rubbed her shoulder as she looked out at the Minion. They gathered at the south end of the field, preparing their troops for battle. Torches moved back and forth like little stars. It wasn't easy to distinguish individual forms, but from experience, Lia would say there were about 50,000. She hadn't bothered to count magically, because using magic lately made her ill. Especially after casting that "distraction" at Althorien.
"Gods," Lia murmured, turning from the sight. "I feel sick."
Bolthorn rechecked all his armor straps and said, "How many do you think there are?"
"62,439," Jonas said, walking from behind a group of chattering women. He stopped next to Bolthorn and examined the mercenary's armor. There was remarkable difference between the two warriors; both were massive and tall, but where Bolthorn was like a tree, Jonas was like a mountain. Jonas's armor gleamed darkly in the torchlight, practically as reflective as a mirror. There were no chinks or scratches in its surface. Obviously he was meticulous about its care. That and the armor was magical. Bolthorn's armor was dirty, scratched, and unpolished.
Lia could tell Bolthorn expected a criticism from Jonas, but Jonas said, "Looks like you're ready to fight. Let's go."
"Where's Borim?" Bolthorn asked.
Lia shrugged. "I don't know, but don't worry about him. He's not going to make much of a difference."
"You don't like him much, do you?" Jonas asked.
Lia shook her head. "He's too obsessed with Aleya. She's gone now, and he still doesn't realize-" Then she saw him walking toward them.
Borim stopped in front of them and said, "Sir Nimat has assigned me to the western division. I'll be in the thirtieth unit, under Sergeant Baron. Third rank."
"You'll die!" Lia cried. "They'll cut you down in less than five minutes!"
Borim shrugged. "Doesn't matter, anyway. I've outlived my purpose, and Aleya doesn't need me anymore. Never really did," he chuckled bitterly. "Gods, what a pointless life I've led. See you guys in Paradise."
Then he walked off.
Lia's jaw hung open until he had disappeared into the crowd. She felt tears stinging her eyes, for some reason, and wiped them away.
Jonas watched her carefully, then said, "Lia-"
"Don't you think I've known people who died?" she said harshly, bending to pick something invisible from her backpack.
Jonas nudged Bolthorn and they headed toward the Legion, which was also massing for the coming battle.
Alinor and Ghin stood atop the southern dragon's head, watching the two armies prepare for battle. By now, time had stopped moving. The clouds above were still thrashing about from Kra and Aleya's battle in the skies, and lightning still flashed, but other than that, the world seemed to stand still. Since the previous eve, darkness had been draped over Tirn Aill. No sun had shone, anywhere on the planet, since morning. Tir's hold on this world would be determined by the outcome of this battle.
"You think we'll win?" Ghin asked.
"I couldn't say," Alinor answered. "This battle here? I hope so. If they can hold out for just a few hours, then we'll have hope. But as for the battle above..." he glanced at the sky and sighed. "It is entirely in Aleya's hands until Doronar arrives. If either battle is lost, then Tirn Aill is lost. We must not lose hope."
"Sound like a fuckin' priest," Ghin muttered. He flexed his fingers, and a sword appeared in his grasp. "While you sit up here and muse over the intricacies of life, I'm going down to kick some Minion ass."
Alinor glanced at the sword.
"I'm a grand master," Ghin said. "Didn't you know?"
"As long as you're going down there to fight," Alinor said. "I've got a request of you."
Borim stared across the uneven ground, all the way to the Minion. Nearly ten minutes had passed since he had found Sergeant Baron, but neither army had made a move. Both armies just stared at each other and stirred about restlessly.
"Hey kid," a hand grabbed his shoulder and Borim looked up. A slightly thin man stood next to him, with brown hair, graying at the temples. It took Borim a moment to recognize him, but then he growled and his hand shot out.
Ghin's eyes widened for a moment, then he remembered why the kid was trying to kill him. Borim's fist smashed into Ghin's face three times before Ghin managed to disentangle himself and pin the kid down.
The soldiers around them made a circle and began watching nervously.
"You bastard!" Borim said, half of his face in the mud. "What the fuck are-"
"Quiet down, kid," Ghin said, wiping the blood from his face. "I'm here to fight with you, not against you."
"You kidnapped Aleya!" Borim spat, struggling uselessly.
"Yeah, but I needed to to get my powers back. I knew you guys would come in time to save her."
"Motherfucker!"
Ghin glanced at the soldiers around them, and wanted to end this before someone important took notice. He put his mouth close to Borim's ear and said, "Listen, kid. I made a small mistake, but a person as wimpy as me can't keep someone like Aleya in danger for long, if you get my drift. I knew you would come and save her, and you did. Listen to what I'm saying: I'm here now to help you, so shut up and lay off."
Ghin stood up just as Sergeant Baron arrived. "What's going on?" Baron demanded.
"Nothing," Ghin said, dusting off his tabard. "My friend and I were just playing around." He offered his hand and Borim took it disdainfully.
"Well, fucking quit it," Baron said. "The Minion have begun their march and we will begin ours in a few moments." Then he addressed his whole unit. "Troops, fall in line!"
Everyone lined up evenly and held out their spears, if they had any.
Bolthorn and Jonas pushed their way to the front line and found general Garak sitting on his horse amidst his infantry. Two polebearers flanked Garak's horse and two drummers stood behind them.
Garak shot a glance at Jonas, then signaled the drummers. They pounded his orders into the drums, which were echoed by two more pairs of drums, one pair for each division. Central, east, and west.
A moment later, the entire Althorian Legion began marching forward to the beats of the drums. The first few lines bristled with pikes, and looked impossible to penetrate.
But the Minion had also begun marching, and they would stop for nothing. Their first line was generally composed of trolls, who held huge halberds and battle axes. They would have the most success in tearing through the Legion's pike line.
"Who the fuck are you two?" Garak snapped to Jonas. "If you want to fight, get to the-"
"We're the ones Ghin told you about," Jonas said. "Or he should have."
Garak's eyes flickered recognition, then said, "Oh. Well, you two get up ahead of me and prepare to get slaughtered. I'm moving back there," he gestured into the center of this division.
Jonas nodded and he and Bolthorn took their places at the head of the center division. The polebearers and drummers followed Garak back to the middle of the soldiers.
As they topped the next hill, Bolthorn saw the bulk of the Minion; he saw their true numbers, and felt a number of physiological responses to the sight. "Jonas, I know I don't know you very well," Bolthorn said, wiping the sweat from his brow, "but you're probably as old as Lia."
"Older."
"Have you ever fought in a battle like this?"
Jonas nodded. "This is probably one of the larger battles I've seen on Tirn Aill, but I've fought in bigger ones than this."
"How many battles?"
"Countless."
"R-Really?"
"Don't worry," Jonas said. "Everything you're feeling is completely normal. I just hope you had sense enough to piss before you came out here."
"I haven't eaten for hours."
"Good enough. Your adrenaline will keep you kicking until you die."
Bolthorn swallowed when he saw how fast they were approaching the Minion. Now he could see their eyes, and the glint of their steel.
"Remember," Jonas said. "Wait until I draw my sword before drawing yours."
Bolthorn nodded. "You think we'll live through this?"
"Don't fear death, just avoid it," Jonas said.
Bolthorn nodded again.
"Hey you!" bellowed someone behind them. "You might want to get behind the pike line! You'll end up in two hundred pieces before you have a chance to touch them."
Bolthorn looked behind them. The first three ranks held pikes, which would probably skewer the front lines of the Minion, then become useless. After that, the swords would be drawn and the true fighting would begin.
"No," Jonas said.
"You're gonna die!" shouted another soldier. A chorus of agreements followed, but Jonas ignored them.
"You can get back there if you want," Jonas said.
Bolthorn saw the Minion pick up speed, and realized that he and Jonas were going to get squashed like bugs between the pikes and the charging Minion. Sweat ran into his eyes, and Bolthorn wiped it away. His mind went totally blank as the fear overtook him.
When he was about to scramble backwards, returning to the safety of the Legion, something stopped him. A warmth filled him inside, and he sensed Lia's essence comforting him.
"No," Bolthorn's hand grabbed Krenash's handle.
"Not yet," Jonas cautioned.
The Minion broke into a run, and drew their weapons. Most of those behind the trolls held spears to throw at the pikemen. The gap closed faster. They broke a hundred yards.
Then seventy yards.
Then forty yards.
Then thirty yards.
"Now!"
Both men drew their swords at exactly the same time. Ten spears flew straight at them, and despite Lia's help, Bolthorn nearly buckled with fear again.
Before the fear could overcome him again, purple fire erupted from his sword.
Then Jonas swept his sword forward, and a wall of white fire blasted into the oncoming Minion. The five spears disintigrated, along with the first score of Minion. Their corpses disintegrated and fell to the ground in piles of ash and charred armor.
Bolthorn took a step back, as did most of the nearby Minion. The chargers not hit by Jonas's attack skidded to a stop or tried to and slipped in the grass. They fell to the mercy of the Legion. Beyond this small area, though, the Minion and Legion crashed together.
Human and Minion screams were mingled with the sound of clashing metal and gurgles of death. After the initial surprise of Jonas's attack, the Minion closed in like predators.
Instead of feeling fear again, Bolthorn felt the rush of adrenaline. He leaped forward, slashing the first Minion attackers. Krenash cut through them like butter, and consumed most of their corpses in purple flames. All that hit the ground were blackened bones with chunks of crispy flesh. Their armor was melted.
In the western division, Borim and Ghin were also in the thick of battle, but they didn't have Gren or Krenash at their disposal. If Borim remembered correctly, Ghin was a wizard, but he didn't appear to be using any of his magic.
But he was fighting like a master.
Ghin held a detached expression on his face as he cut through the orcs that threw themselves forward. He almost appeared calm, until one orc's blade slipped in and lightly chinked his armor. Ghin raised his sword up, then threw his left palm forward angrily.
A blast of invisible energy slammed into the orc and all the Minion around him. They all hit the ground heavily, and didn't get up.
But then Borim had to stop paying attention to Ghin. More of the Minion poured onto them and Borim just fought. Unlike most of the other soldiers, he didn't feel the fear commonly associated with battle.
His whole world was Aleya, and now that she didn't need him, he didn't really care about life. He didn't even care if they won this battle or not.
Then Borim stopped thinking about Aleya, and just started killing. His world was quickly transformed into methodic sword strokes and death. Humans and Minion dropped around him with fountains of blood and horrible screams, but as the time passed, Borim cared less and less. He became as detached as Ghin, and almost looked at it as a game.
Aleya bit her lip as over a hundred lightning bolts collapsed her outermost defenses. She tried to rebuild it, but Kra was already lathering her next shield with his purple flames. Cursing, Aleya concentrated on maintaining her current defenses and neutralizing his other attacks. She barely managed to fold out his next five dimensional rifts before seeing his next attack.
With a laugh, Kra pointed his arm at the clouds below.
Aleya's eyes widened. "NO!" she screamed.
A purple pillar of fire reached from the sky, punched into the ground, and raked through the Legion's ranks, incinerating over two hundred soldiers. When the smoke cleared and the debris had landed back on the ground, Garak jerked his eyes away from the image and snapped at Hathor, "What the fuck was that?"
Hathor wiped his face with his robe. "Kra."
"What do you mean, 'Kra'?"
"The God of Destruction. He just roasted a couple hundred of the Legion."
Garak swore for ten seconds. "Can't you stop him?"
"He's a god!" Hathor whined. "I might as well kill all the Minion myself!"
"Fuck fuck fuck!" Garak threw his waterskin into the fray up ahead. "Get me some support for Sir Perron," Garak said. "Blow a hole in that ogre and kill those Shadows right there," Garak pointed.
Hathor closed his eyes. A few hundred yards away, three balls of fire exploded into the Minion attacking Perron's unit. Nearby, flashes of light reduced the Shadows to smoke, and an ogre's head spontaneously exploded.
Borric was horrified by Kra's attack. He spun around and glared at the High Priest, just inside the temple's perimeter. More than fifty Dragon flanked him on either side. "What the fuck are you doing just standing there?" Borric demanded. "You have over a thousand Dragon standing uselessly behind you while we sit here and die! Help us, dammit!"
The High Priest shook his head. "Not yet."
"Fucker!" Borric whirled back around and faced the battlefield. He looked out just in time to see a ball of fire arch from the Minion mages into the Legion's archers.
"Look!" Daren pointed.
Borric followed his son's arm and gaped. To the east side of the Legion, a group of ten-foot tall demons had just materialized. "Tell them!" Borric snapped at a nearby mage.
Hathor's eyes flew open. "Oh crap," he said.
Garak shouted an order at one of the nearby commanders, then looked at Hathor. "What is it?"
"About twenty Morreks just appeared to the east of us."
"What are Morreks?"
"Demons that I have a hard time killing."
Garak looked east and thought he could make out black shapes moving toward his eastern flank. "Get your mages on them, stupid!" He ordered the drummers to relay an order, and after the drummers complied, about fifty archers detached from the eastern division, preceded by a group of spearmen. With the spearmen in front, the archers set down and prepared to fire.
Then Alinor materialized between the Morreks and the soldiers. He faced the Morreks and raised his arms to the side. The Morreks snarled and began charging him. A few bolts of fire flew at him. But before they reached Alinor, another figure appeared between him and the demons. The fire bolts disappeared.
The Morreks stumbled over each other, trying to stop in time, but Manjinar had already blasted them into oblivion. Manjinar turned to Alinor and said, "Even though you threatened me for it, you fail to call for my help when you need it."
"Wh-Why did you come?" Alinor asked, startled by the Overlord's sudden presence.
"A whisper," Manjinar said.
Alinor bowed his head in thanks and said, "I don't suppose there's anything else you could do to aid us?"
Manjinar glanced up at the sky. "I'm a little nervous about being so close to Kra, but as long as Aleya's got him locked in battle, I'm safe."
"But she's not entirely stopping him, you know. That's where these demons came from."
Manjinar hesitated, then said, "I will protect you from his stray attacks, but it's very risky. If he defeats her then I'm dead. I'll leave if she shows signs of losing."
Alinor nodded. "It's only a few more hours before Doronar arrives."
"Hope it's not over before then."
"Something is very wrong," Jafrin said out the window.
Alyssa walked next to him and looked into the courtyard. "What is it?"
"Look at the sky," Jafrin said. "And can't you feel that energy? It's like...It's like oil and water."
"Oil and water?" Alyssa asked.
Jafrin rubbed the back of his neck, then shook his hands in frustration. "Gods I can't stand this! I have to get out of here!" He hurried from the room.
The owner of the manor watched Jafrin go. "Is-Is something wrong?"
Kamin shook his head. "No, my brother's just having a conniption. He'll be fine. Keep going."
The owner led them up the stairs and said, "These are the main stairs. They get creaky during hot days, but they're made of the finest Highland redwood." He gestured down the hall. "At that end of the hall we have the servants' wing."
Kamin said, "They don't use these stairs, I hope."
"No," the man shook his head. "There's a servant stairwell through that door and down the hall there. And there's an outdoor stairway covered by a canopy. You'll have to be careful of those stairs though. Sometimes the snow can blow in under the canopy and get them a little icy. I just use the servant stairs during the coldest days anyway."
Alyssa stopped listening and walked to the window. She saw a servant chopping firewood outside. A guard lounged against the wall, smoking a pipe. Jafrin appeared near the southern end of the garden, and began walking around in circles, talking to himself. He stopped at a leafless tree and inspected it carefully.
"Alyssa," Kamin said. "Come on. This is your decision too."
"What about Jafrin?" she asked.
Jafrin looked up at the sky and said something.
"He'll go with whatever we choose," Kamin walked over to her. "Come on."
He tugged on her arm and she followed him into the next room.
"All right, gentlemen, we are here to determine your prowess in battle. We will go over previous qualifications later. Right now, all that matters is your ability to kick the shit out of each other, because we don't want to hire any wusses."
Another man spoke up. "Your task is to subdue your opponent without killing them or breaking any bones. If you're hired you can do whatever you want, but you're all only potential hirees. Got it?"
The first man walked down the line and began pairing off the prospective employees of the Bloody Saint Company. Before he reached Ranon, though, the second man called him over.
Fear fluttered in Ranon's stomach, but then he knew that no one could recognize him. Not now, especially. His hair was cut and dyed, and he wasn't wearing his sword.
Ranon approached the man and the man looked down at him. "What's your name?"
"Nonar," Ranon said.
The man looked at his list and then back at Ranon. "You're awfully young to be applying as a guard."
"You never mentioned an age restriction. Besides, I'm as good as any of the candidates here."
The man cocked an eyebrow. "Some of these men have trained for ten years or more. They have experience as mercenaries, bodyguards, caravan guards, and some of them were soldiers. What have you got?"
"I was a bodyguard for a year."
"You?" laughed another man.
Ranon frowned at him. "You want me to show you?"
"Listen kid, why don't you just go home to your mommy and daddy?"
"I need money, and you're paying good. Please, let me at least try."
To Ranon's surprise, he agreed, "All right kid. But we're not liable if your head gets broken. You can be paired with Scarface over there."
Ranon turned and winced. He walked into the circle with his opponent, who gaped down at him. Hopefully Ranon's advantage would lie with his opponent's overconfidence.
"All right gentlemen," said the interviewer. "Kick the shit out of each other."
Everyone in the empty lot attacked each other. Grunts and thuds and bloody splats rose up into the cold air.
But Ranon's opponent didn't move, and neither did Ranon.
The man scratched the huge scar on his cheek and raised his hand. The recruiter walked over and said, "What is it?"
"I can't fight him," said Scarface. "I'll kill him." His voice was unusually deep.
"Sure you can," said the recruiter. "You won't be held for any permanent damage you do to him. I've already talked to him about this."
"He's nothing but a kid! Why did you let him in here?" Scarface said.
"It should be an easy takedown then," said the recruiter.
"I won't hurt him."
"Then you hurt him," the recruiter said to Ranon. "I have fights to evaluate." He walked off to another ring.
"Kid, I think you'd better walk away," Scarface said. "This isn't a place for babies like you. You-"
Ranon stopped paying attention and evaluated his opponent. More than six feet tall, easily 250 pounds, most of which appeared to be muscle. Thick fingers, plenty of scars on his forearms, worn swordbelt...
Ranon lunged forward in the middle of Scarface's sentence, and slammed his knee into the man's groin. Hard.
Scarface stopped talking and left his mouth open. A wheeze escaped through his lips.
Ranon stepped back and let the man fall to his knees.
"You..." said the man in a high voice, "asshole!" The man's fist flashed forward and squished Ranon's stomach like a pillow.
Ranon flew backwards and toppled out of the ring. He and Scarface hit the ground at the same time. Both were swearing breathlessly when the recruiter arrived. "I missed it," said the man, "but my friend over there saw it. According to her, the fight wasn't good enough to evaluate your skills, so I'm pitting you both against different opponents."
When Ranon regained his senses, he staggered into the designated ring and faced another man, who had a bruise on his cheekbone. "Gods, kid, what are you doing in a place like this?" said the man. "Get out of here before I hurt you."
Ranon shook his head.
The man sighed and reached for Ranon's shoulder. Ranon punched the inside of the man's elbow, buckling his arm, then elbowed the man's neck. With a choking sound, the man staggered backwards.
Ranon snapped a quick kick to the inside of the man's knee, then casually stepped on his neck when he hit the ground.
This time the recruiter was watching, and he said to Ranon, "How old are you?"
"Seventeen," Ranon lied.
"Assuming you're not a master in all levels, we could train you and use you later on," the recruiter said thoughtfully. "All right, kid, you're in. Go stand over there with the others."
Ranon joined a group of candidates, most of whom were wiping blood off their faces or rubbing sore wrists. Ranon stood at the end of the line and caught sight of a girl in the midst of the recruiters. It took him only a second to recognize her.
It was Alyssa.
Fuck.
Ranon quickly looked somewhere else in time to see Scarface pick up his opponent and throw him into an open stable door.
The recruiter pointed to Ranon's group and Scarface walked over. "Hello again," he said to Ranon.
"Ah, hi," Ranon said nervously.
Sensing Ranon's mood, the man rumbled, "Don't worry about earlier. No hard feelings. We're just here for a job, right?" White teeth flashed beneath his beard.
Ranon nodded, feeling only a little more at ease.
The other recruiters walked over to Ranon's group and began surveying them. As Alyssa approached, he looked away and began swearing softly. Of all places. Of all people. Why the fuck was she here?
Why hadn't he suspected that it was Alyssa's smuggling group that was hiring him? They were probably setting up a legitimate business now, and needed some mercenaries to keep it safe.
Alyssa stopped in front of him, and he felt Scarface nudge him.
Ranon finally got the nerve to look at her, and she started visibly when she saw him.
"What are you doing here?" she hissed. Then she glanced at another recruiter, the one who had tackled Ranon in the street. "Shit." Alyssa looked in Ranon's eyes once more, then continued down the line, looking at the other candidates.
Ranon didn't know his name, but the man who'd assaulted him in the street last week stopped and said, "What's your name?"
"Nonar," Ranon said.
The man drew his eyebrows together suspiciously and said, "Have we met?"
Ranon shook his head.
"Nonar here's my friend," Scarface put a huge hand on Ranon's shoulder. "We're from the east."
The man looked up and down at Scarface. "And who are you?"
"Bear."
"Bear?"
"I forgot my real name," Bear said.
"Uh-huh," the recruiter almost laughed. "You're almost guaranteed a spot, my friend. Providing you're not a homicidal maniac or anything."
"Not lately," Bear said.
The man moved on and Bear looked at Ranon. "What was that all about?"
"Ah, nothing."
"All right ladies!" shouted one of the other recruiters. "You may now get in line to sign up for a one-on-one interview later in the day. I will be interviewing you one at a time."
As the men shuffled into a single-file line, Bear said, "You wanna get a drink while we wait?"
"Who, me?" Ranon asked.
Bear nodded. "Sure."
"I don't have any money."
"I'll pay."
Ranon agreed, and wondered if it was a good thing or a bad thing that Alyssa had recognized him.
Lily woke up to Doronar's shouting. She didn't catch what he said, but Rinas turned around in the saddle and shouted something in Draconian. They started talking back and forth, and Lily looked around them.
Hundreds of dragons were flying above the clouds, to the northeast. All stayed in perfect configurations, flying in four separate V formations. The dragons were about ten feet apart, judging by the distance to the dragon ahead of Tal.
"Hang on," Doronar called next to her ear. Communication was difficult because of the wind's roar, so they had to shout or talk right into each other's ears.
Tal dove sharply, and Lily cried out, gripping Rinas's waist tightly. Her stomach inverted as they dropped down. The white clouds surrounded them, and Lily saw water begin beading up along the surface of her riding suit.
The riding suit kept out most of the wind chill, and Rinas's heat shield kept out the rest. His shield also kept enough "thick air" for them to breathe; otherwise they would suffocate.
Tal plunged out of the clouds, leveled off, and Lily looked around. They were above a lake, being fed by a waterfall. It must be the Highlands Cliff. Tal stayed a few yards below the clouds, and let Doronar assess their position.
"Where the fuck are we?" he yelled at Lily.
"I don't know!" she shouted back. "It looks familiar, but we're so high..." then she broke off. There was an island near the bottom of the waterfall, with a flag sticking out of it. It was impossible to make out the shapes on the flag, but she could see the colors easily enough.
It was the Althorian flag. And the rest of the scene slowly registered. She recognized the trade roads coming in from the Highlands, converging on the river. And she recognized the worn dirt road on the second level of the cliff.
Doronar must have seen it too, because he shouted something in Draconian at Rinas, who nodded. Tal folded up his wings and aimed for the island. Their speed began picking up rapidly, until they were plummeting faster than a rock.
Lily closed her eyes and fought back the nausea.
Tal made a surprisingly smooth transition to the landing, and before she knew it Tal's claws were scraping along the rocky island.
Doronar unbuckled the straps that held him in place, and he dropped onto the island. Lily opened her eyes and looked around. Rinas unbuckled himself as well, and dropped next to Doronar. Lily fumbled with her belt and fell down a few moments later.
"Oh gods," Doronar breathed, digging through the rubble with his gloved hands. "I don't believe this. Oh gods oh gods oh-"
"How did this happen?" Lily asked, fighting back more nausea. "We...we..." she covered her eyes, then pushed her hair back. "We weren't gone for long."
Rinas sniffed and said something.
Doronar smelled the air as well and nodded. "It smells bad."
"People have died here, that's why," Lily said. "Oh gods," she bent over and dry heaved. She hadn't eaten for hours, ever since they'd left the mountains, and her stomach was empty.
When she finished, Doronar said, "Some people must have survived, though, if the vision I saw is right. What happened here?"
Lily pointed to the base of the steep island. "Look down there. That building is still pretty intact."
Doronar nodded, and they picked their way down the cliff, until they reached the edge of the island. The roof was half-gone, and most of the building was underneath the water, but they could see bodies floating inside. At least, those parts of bodies that weren't devoured by fish.
"Can you see who's in there?" Doronar asked.
Rinas squinted his yellow eyes and nodded. He said something, and Lily could tell that it was a negative. They weren't humans.
"Gods," Lily said, gripping the corner of the building for balance. She didn't want to go sliding into the water. She looked back up the island, where Tal was digging through the rocky remains of the city. "This place is just swimming with disease."
"What?"
"When things die, they are terrible carriers for disease," Lily said. "Humans won't be able to come back here for a long time."
"Can we burn it?" Doronar asked.
"Burn the whole island?" Lily looked out across the newly formed lake, at the treetops sticking out of the water, and the sparse debris floating on the surface. The lake would probably continue to grow in size. "How?"
"I'm sure the dragons could do it," Doronar said.
Rinas said something, and Doronar nodded. "Come on, Lily, we have to hurry up to the temple. We can come back here later."
The troll's warhammer smashed full into Borim's breastplate. The troll tilted away from him and his back collided with the ground and he was staring at the sky. Stars flashed into his vision, and he dimly noticed the troll lifting its weapon to strike.
Someone leaped over him and stabbed the troll once, then twice, three, four, five times before the troll shoved him off. But by then the troll was too far gone. It fell to the side and landed on a pair of orcs.
Borim struggled up to his elbows in time to see a goblin rushing at him. Borim groped for his sword, but it was gone. He quickly ripped the hand mace from its place on his right arm, and tried to get up. The goblin jumped on Borim's chest and raised its dirk.
"Fucker!" Borim drove his knee into the goblin's kidney, throwing it off balance, then used the mace to splatter the goblin's nose across its face. Four more swift blows caved in the creature's skull, and it fell on top of his legs. Borim pushed the thing away, then staggered to his feet.
Ghin appeared next to him, constantly watching for another enemy. "You all right, kid?"
Borim nodded, but found he had trouble breathing. When he looked down, he saw that his breast plate was indented a few inches. "Fuck," he muttered. "I have to get this thing off."
"No, no. No time," Ghin said. He wiggled his fingers at the metal, and it popped back into place. A trio of orcs rushed at them, and Ghin raised his hands. Out of nowhere, it seemed, a half dozen goblins leaped into the three orcs, slashing and stabbing. All of them fell to the ground as one mass of bodies.
"What are they doing?" Borim asked, holding his sword out.
"If you see a goblin with white stars on their cheeks, like those, then they belong to me, so don't kill them. Understand?"
Borim nodded.
The goblins got up off the dead orcs and scampered back into the Minion army, before any of the Minion realized what had happened.
Ghin spotted another group of orcs and said, "Let's go kill, kid."
Bolthorn's sword was alive in his hands. He never even thought before he attacked; his body moved of its own accord, diving through the Minion and slicing them apart as though they were paper. He had to actively work to stay with the Legion, instead of cutting a swath through the Minion.
Every so often he would catch sight of Jonas, tearing through the Minion in the same manner. Unlike Bolthorn's armor, Jonas's armor had no blood or scratches in it. Bolthorn was sure that it was magic, because very few blows landed on Jonas's armor, and those that did barely even impacted.
Just as Bolthorn's sword clove through a goblin's skull, Bolthorn was struck in the back and hurled into a group of trolls. They all hit the ground, and Bolthorn scrambled to his feet. Before the trolls were even to their feet, Krenash had decapitated them all.
Bolthorn spun around to face the enemy that had struck him, and his jaw dropped. A winged demon, easily seven feet tall, with horns and fuckin' nasty claws, stood amidst the Legion. It swept its arm out and scattered a group of humans, then looked at Bolthorn. The demon roared, and Bolthorn felt Lia with him again, protecting him from some kind of magical attack.
But then Jonas leaped from behind Bolthorn, soared across the gap and planted his feet on the demon's chest. The demon dropped the two soldiers it was holding, but Jonas pushed out with his feet. The demon slammed into the ground, and Jonas flipped backwards, landing neatly on his feet.
Bolthorn sensed movement behind him and he twirled, sword out. He decapitated two orcs, and chopped off another's arm. Bolthorn sliced the last orc in half, impaled a troll, then looked back toward Jonas.
Jonas was standing on the demon, and just as Bolthorn focused on him, Jonas brought his sword down. There was a thunderous roar of agony, and the demon burst into flames.
Then three more appeared above him.
Hathor closed his eyes, and two bolts of white fire struck one of the descending demons. Its chest burst into flames, and it stopped flapping. It landed in the middle of the Legion, crushing two and grabbing two more.
Garak pulled his battle axe from its saddle sheath and said, "Fuck! Hathor, do something else!"
Hathor wiped his forehead and raised his hand. A lightning bolt shot from the sky and struck the damaged demon, but didn't kill it. The demon's left side was burnt to the muscle, but it continued shredding the humans. A volley of arrows impaled the burnt portion of the demon's body, but bounced off the skin on its right half.
Garak swore and kicked his horse forward. The Legion melted away from his charging horse.
When he reached the demon, axe raised, it lashed its arm out. Garak and his horse were thrown sideways, but the horse was the less fortunate of the two. Its head landed a few yards away from its body.
Pain shot through Garak's left side when he landed. His axe lay a few feet away. When he looked up, he saw about four trolls converging on his position. Garak grabbed a dagger from a nearby corpse's hand, and threw it at one of the trolls. It dropped to the ground with the dagger in its eye.
The rest of the trolls ignored their dead kinsman and moved in for the kill.
Garak pushed the ground with his feet, angling away from them, and found the butt of a broken spear in his grasp. He grabbed it and rolled into a standing position.
An arrow whizzed past Garak's head and ripped through the closest troll's throat. Garak sidestepped and let the troll fall. A pair of Legion soldiers leaped to Garak's defense and managed to kill one of the trolls, but the other one smashed their heads in with its warhammer.
As soon as the second soldier hit the ground, Garak was leaping forward, arm raised. He slammed the spearhead into the troll's throat, down into its chest. Blood gushed over his hand and arm. The troll gargled something and tried to grab for Garak, but Garak saw another Legionnaire stagger aside, and an orc close in on the soldier.
Garak pushed the troll away and tackled the orc. The orc hit the ground with its head, and blood coated its eyeballs almost immediately.
A thunderous roar cut through the battle around Garak, and he remembered the demon. With a curse, Garak cast about for his axe. When he saw the double-bladed weapon, he grabbed it and ran back toward the demon, which was still killing the humans. They stood about the creature in a circle, trying to fend it off with spears and pikes. Archers continued to pelt it, but those arrows that did manage to penetrate the demon's hide had no effect other than pissing it off.
Garak charged forward with a yell, straight through the ring of Legionnaires.
The demon saw him and swung out with its fist, but Garak ducked the swing and jumped up, axe raised over his head. He brought the axe down in one beautiful arch, splitting the demon's head straight down the middle.
The hellspawn toppled backwards and crashed like a tree. Soldiers jumped all over it and began shredding it.
Garak turned to look for the other two demons.
Instead, he saw a ten-foot tall lizard-dog, with a barbed tail and ridges along its back. A leg dangled from its mouth.
Borric puked all over the dais.
He wiped his mouth and stood up, then turned around to face the High Priest. This would be the tenth time in the past half hour that he had cussed out the man, but he didn't care.
"Father!" Daren grabbed Borric's arm.
"What?" Borric snapped. The battle was not going the way he wanted.
Manjinar was sweating. "He's killing her," he said. "He's dividing his attacks between her and us, trying to throw her off. And it's working. Aleya doens't know who to defend, herself or us."
Alinor swore and threw his hood back, so he could see better. He extended his arm, and the demon lizard's back snapped. It floundered on the ground for a moment, then the soldiers swarmed all over it.
"I have to get Jareso," Alinor said, closing his eyes.
"He couldn't help you," Manjinar said.
Then Kra summoned another fifty Morreks.
Borric looked where Daren was looking, and saw a hole in the black clouds. It was a few thousand feet to the south: a circle of calm that had suddenly opened the tremulous clouds. They could see clearly up to the second cloud layer, and he could see lightning flashing.
"Gods, what now?" Borric breathed.
END OF SHADOWS 04
©1997 by Bill Smith (micro@oz.net)