Revelyn: 1st Chronicles - When the last arrow falls (79 page)

Cordia and Rhynos were mounted on two great Scythercats and would ride on the flanks whilst the two mighty
Equin
at the centre would lead the charge. The others would follow in their wake. Reigin rode a fine fresh steed as did Scion and Ofeigr. Goodman Cantor and Clarynda were to lead a handpicked group of highlanders. Rema rode behind the
Equin
to guide the charge and find the way through to the path into the
Vaudim.
Sylvion was to ride at the rear and use the Shadow Blade so that all before would fall back and let them pass. Each horse carried a little water and some meagre supplies.

In all, just a score to brave the might of the many thousands waiting thirstily on the plains like some wounded beast hungry for revenge.

Anderlorn called down the eagles and they and their riders were instructed to remain within
Fellonshead
, for no creature would be safe in the air once the Shadow Blade gave forth its deadly light.

In the early morning after Reigin had put forward his bold plan, Rema had spoken desperately with Sylvion and convinced her that the blade must work once more, so that a path through to the
Vaudim
could be secured. She had agreed, but now worried that her will to anger and dark thoughts would not be sufficient to wield the
Shadow Blade
as it was required. She sat, pale and diminished upon a stout black horse, well chosen for its name was Hope, and waited for Rema’s command to charge. Reigin was to stay with her, riding just in front, keeping his back to the fearsome light.

And finally they were ready.

As the Elder Anderlorn and his remaining
Edenwhood
watched from the ruins of
Fellonshead
, the small group rode slowly out onto the plains before the army of the King, keeping their tight formation in place. They were watched by thousands of hungry and desperately thirsty soldiers, many of whom were in shock from the strange attack the previous night. At first it was thought that such a small force which rode toward them must be coming to organise some sort of truce or negotiations.

But they kept coming, and no flag was flown .

With the mighty
Equin
leading, and the hooves of Thunder and Sadeye beginning to pound the earth in a manner which brought fearful memories of those awesome charging steeds, a ripple of fear ran through the enemy camp. Lancers readied their spears and archers hurriedly prepared their arrows and bows and stood waiting orders.

The
Equin
began to gallop flanked by the Scythercats who bounded easily with them. The highlander’s horses were gallant in their efforts to hold position. Suddenly a great cry went up from the enemy but as they did Sylvion unleashed her
Shadow Blade
and with a deafening crack the lightning surged up into the heavens. Even in the bright sunlight it was overwhelming and all those who looked upon it were once more in its thrall.

Like a mighty battering ram they crashed through the lancers who fell beneath the hooves without resistance. On up the slope they charged. From far out on the flanks some archers less in thrall than those close in, were able to fire off an arrow now and then, but these posed no threat.

As the
Shadow Blade’s
stupefaction swept through the enemy it seemed that their gaol would be achieved without great difficulty, and then by some incalculable fate a large rock thrown by Thunder’s huge and pounding hooves caught Sylvion on the forehead and she almost fell unconscious to the earth. Only by a mighty act of will did she hold her saddle and wipe away the pouring blood and continue to wield her blade; but now its light was suddenly dimmed and the enemy had their chance.

It was the archers who were at once a deadly threat. A volley of arrows cut through the air and several found their mark. Three horses took a hit but kept gamely on.  Several of the highlanders were wounded, but they too held their saddles and bending low across their steeds did not fall.

A spear and a lance cut the scythercats glancing blows. The bright red blood which flowed from their wounds quickly stained the earth behind them. Rema began to shoot at any he saw able to threaten their progress, and he was an awesome sight, standing in his stirrups and firing arrow after arrow with little pause between. He soon used up all the shafts he had gathered and realised he must now use his own, and these he had desperately wanted kept back for whatever battle might ensue once the
Vaudim
was reached.

Sylvion was encouraged continually by Reigin whose voice she focused upon and so stayed conscious and able to wield her blade, although the light it now gave was much weaker and once or twice flashed off and on with an incredible crack which made all close by jump in fear, and hold their hands over their aching ears.

Their mad charge kept on despite their wounds and an enemy which was increasingly able to mount some resistance. Rema managed to guide them towards the place where he hoped to find some break in the tangled trees which now rapidly rose before them. The king’s pavilion was suddenly only a hundred paces away off to their left, and there he saw, standing groggily, were the figures of Lord Petros himself, and Zelfos too, his bald head reflecting the crackling light of Sylvion’s pulsating blade.  Standing by them was a giant soldier who seemed less affected for he was shielding his eyes and trying to muster his men to a better response. Rema rose up from his saddle once more and as they passed by, quickly fired two arrows; one tore a deep wound through this man’s left arm, then continued on briefly before bouncing off a tent pole and ending up embedded in the flank of a tethered war horse. The poor creature in an agony reared up and fell, kicking and screaming, its failingly hooves breaking bones and bringing down two tents before it lay still.

The other arrow flew true at Zelfos, and hit him in the heart.

Rema had no time to mark its damage but for an instant he saw it burst into a sudden flame and fall harmlessly as black ash to the ground. Across the short space which separated them he saw Zelfos give an evil leer and then he was gone, lost in the confusion of panicked men and horses, screams and bellowed oaths. And fear.

At this very moment when they passed the King’s pavilion pitched at the very rear of the encampment high up above the battlefield, and having charged right through their enthralled enemy, their rear was exposed; and Sylvion was last. Her blade still issued forth its searing light, but far weaker still for her wound and loss of blood was grave. By a miracle she was not touched for the
Shadow Blade
gave her a magical protection which allowed no weapon of man to cause her injury. Five arrows seemed to find their mark upon her, but each turned to instant ash and she did not notice.

The others however were not so protected, and blood fell from many wounds and stained the ground and marked their passing.

As they entered the tangled forest of the
Vaudim
Mountain still climbing up, Rema saw that they had come upon the overgrown path which Rhyander and Estreedian the shining eagle had spied out. The rocks beneath their hooves were white and hard and in places seemed almost carefully laid, but trees and bushes grew in and through this ragged road and these whipped painfully past them despite the path trampled out by the
Equin
and the Scythercats.

Now in the trees and safe for a time from further attack Rema called for the pace to slow and so the weary and wounded group caught their breath a little. Sylvion still held her blade high and wielded it as best she could for  Rema’s words now rang in her ears.

‘Once we reach the forest Sylvion we face the greatest danger for there lurks within the shadows those fell creatures which we cannot best, save for your Shadow Blade. Above all else do not fail us then, or else they will fall upon us and all is lost.’

He had held her face gently in his hands and with a fierce intensity looked deep into her eyes, and she had understood and now remembered when it counted. These were the last words he had spoken to her except for a final whisper.

‘I love you,’ and then a gentle kiss and they had parted.

A hundred paces into the forest the Shadow Hunters waited. They sensed the presence of some foe and shivered in evil anticipation. Bigger than the
Equin
and more powerful than two Scythercats they had no fear. In the dim forest gloom their shape seemed to change and flow whilst their powerful talons on each limb unconsciously clawed the ground and left great scours in their wake.

But suddenly, bright shafts of searing light reached through the tress and illuminated the darkness which shrouded them. In pain and fear they recoiled with screams which travelled far out across the plains. Zelfos heard and swore darkly, whilst mortal men shivered at the sound.

‘The
Shadow Hunters
are close by!’ Rema cried at the evil sounds of their distress.

‘Keep your blade high Sylvion,’  Reigin called back to her in encouragement, and so with all her remaining strength she did so, and they passed by and ever higher up the road once marched by others, to do strange battle in a place unknown.

From far below the shafts of her deadly light came intermittently through the forest canopy and the whole wounded army of the mad king watched its passing.

And so they came to the
Vaudim.
The mountain was not high, but great magic still lingered in its rough and rocky ramparts. Without further resistance the bloodied group travelled on up the ancient white road until they came upon a mighty cleft which cut right through the steep caldera walls. The horses were reined back and halted. They stood covered in bloody foam and snorting loudly, for they had travelled far and fast, and through great danger and many obstacles.  Sylvion finally sheathed her blade and the light of it crackled and disappeared.

Mute watchers on the plains far below saw a final searing shaft jump heavenward before being lost to view, and then a moment later the sound of it came to them, and the ground shook fearfully. And the spell upon them all was gone.

Sylvion almost fell in a faint from her steed, but Reigin caught her and gently laid her on the earth. Rema was quickly at her side and with a sudden sharp fear saw that she was greatly distressed.

‘You did so well Sylvion,’ he whispered, ‘against all that stood against us. We could not have got this far without you.’

He held her hand but she heard no words. She had lost all conscious grip upon the world. Her heart was coldly held by the magic of the blade, and her wound had finally taken its toll. She lay as though dead, just the gentle rise and fall of her breast gave any clue at all that she still clung to life.

‘Rema!’ Scion called out in alarm. ‘The
Equin
are fallen.’

All in the group turned and there by the entrance to the cleft, the two mighty horses were now lying on their sides, and breathing fast and shallow. It was clear that they were dying, and it was a sad sight to behold.

‘Quickly Reigin,’ Rema spoke with deep emotion, ‘bring Sylvion over to Thunder.’ And so the giant soldier effortlessly lifted Sylvion and placed her as Rema directed by Thunder’s side, her bloodied unconscious head resting upon the enormous heaving flank.

Rema spoke to the dying
Equin
in words which moved them all.

‘I do not know if you hear me mighty steed, but we are this day in great debt to you and all your kin. I know that you and Sylvion who lies wounded here with you, had some bond which no other shared. It is good perhaps that she should rest with you for this final time.’

At these words the dying stallion lifted his head weakly and snorted twice before setting it down upon the ground for the last time. In a moment his breathing slowed and with a final sigh gave up its strange life force, which was beyond all human understanding. There was no mark upon either Thunder or Sadeye, who had died only shortly before; they had defied the spell which ruled them and paid the price, but those few who gazed upon them in death all thought it was a peaceful passing, and one which had been welcomed in the end.

Rema took control and prompted an urgent return to what would happen next.

‘We leave the horses here. We travel now on foot. Bring food and water and all the weapons which you have. The Sycthercats must stay, they too are wounded, but not yet to death.’

 Cordia and Rhynos had tended their charges as best they could and these mighty beasts were very tough, and they hoped perhaps they would survive until their return. If in fact they did.

Rema realised quickly that they were greatly depleted. Although none had fallen, there were many wounds and bloodied bodies, but he had no time then to take account of it.

Within a few moments they were all ready to leave, and following Rema faced the mighty cleft, into which the dull white path disappeared.

As they drew near Ofeigr spoke.

‘It is changing. It was dark when first we arrived, but now a mist blocks our sight.’

It was truly said, for as they entered the narrow chasm with high and nearly vertical cliffs on either side, a bluish rolling mist swirled all about them, and were it not for the closeness of the walls it would have been hard to keep a straight path. They stumbled on. Reigin carried Sylvion. Rema led, with Cordia and Rhynos bringing up the rear. Of the highlanders, each helped the other, for none was without some wound or cut.

The air grew colder still, and a foul dank smell increased until it was impossible to breathe without a festering putridness accompanying every lungful.

‘It the smell of death,’ hissed Ofeigr, his words echoing endlessly off the walls which led them on. ‘What fell place is this that we are about to enter?’

No other word was spoken but all felt a shiver of fear; even Reigin, and this too was a new experience for the great man, but not something he now enjoyed.

They stumbled on for a span until suddenly the swirling mist cleared and there before them was a most awesome sight. The centre of the
Vaudim
was shaped like a great amphitheatre of rock and trees and a central grassy plain. For several hundred paces below them the trees and forest stretched down a steep slope until it opened out into a rolling open field  almost half a league across before the trees started again and sloped up to meet the far sheer walls of the old volcano once more. It was not quite circular in shape, for in the centre it was a little narrower then it was long but it was it clear to all that those who entered had no way out but for the cleft which had they just travelled.