Revelyn: 1st Chronicles - When the last arrow falls (80 page)

They stood in surprise for a short time before Rema once more gave directions.

‘There is a rocky shelf toward the end of the open grassland. It seems to have a wall at one end which will offer protection from behind. We will make for that and see what injuries need tending. Let us make haste. We do not know how close behind is our enemy.’

And so they climbed down the slope through large trees and small and then walked more easily through long grass toward the elevated rock platform at the far end of the enclosed field. All about, the towering walls of the encircling
Vaudim
mountain looked down in sombre majesty.

‘What is this,’ cursed Ofeigr as he stumbled suddenly and fell. He rose holding a rusty sword. Clarynda to his left also picked up a broken helm and soon it became clear that all about were discarded weapons and tools of war, half buried, long since lost and forgotten.

‘The beauty of this place hides a dreadful story,’ whispered Scion with a shiver.

‘Many stories; and all speak of death,’ Clarynda said quietly, and suddenly the vile smell of death was all about them once more.

Soon after they all gained the safety of the rocky shelf and Reigin laid Sylvion down against a solid wall of stone which higher up had an overhang which offered some shelter from the weather. Rema surveyed their small island of rock standing in the deceptively beautiful sea of waving grassland.

It was near enough twenty paces long and over half this wide. At the front it stood as high as Reigin’s head above the grass, but was easily scaled for it was formed of tumbled rock and not the hand of men. The wall under which Sylvion now lay would offer protection to a dozen at best, but ran the width of the shelf and so might allow any attack from the rear to be repulsed. Rema knew however that it was open and exposed and so an approaching enemy would know their foe. It was not ideal but perhaps better than trying to fight amongst the grass and trees. At the least those who approached would have to use great daring in coming through the grasses, for there was little cover and surely many had died trying just that in times past.

He called the group together and they counted the cost of their daring morning charge through the enemy’s camp. It was worse than Rema had first thought.

All save himself and the two
Edenwhood
, Rhynos and Cordia, had suffered some new wound and so were less able to stand and fight the battle which Rema knew must come upon them soon. Reigin’s shoulder wound, whilst not great still bled freely, and was only roughly bandaged. Goodman Cantor and Clarynda had been only scratched by passing arrows but the other highlander had more serious wounds and two were hardly able to stand for long. Ofeigr and Scion had wounds to their backs but their thick leather tunics had prevented the arrows from doing much harm.

Rema quietly surveyed his small brave force.

‘We will soon come under attack,’ he said as they listened in the warm sun which streamed down upon them. ‘I do not understand the magic of this place, but the history of its working is all about us. We will face
Wolvers
and the
Shadow Hunters
and who knows what else. If Sylvion does not recover we will be lost for we cannot in the end win without her
Shadow Blade.
If we fall, Revelyn falls and a great evil will blanket the land. You have ridden bravely this morning my friends and by nightfall we will know the end of it. I will place you where I think best. All I can ask is that you fight until death as I will. Perhaps some will live to tell the tale.’ And with these fine words he bid them rest and eat and take what comfort with friends as they were able.

He went and knelt by Sylvion who seemed peaceful enough. Reigin had cleaned and bandaged her head but the rock had left a nasty wound and she was pale from loss of blood. He held her hand and stroked her brow.

‘Sylvion,’ he whispered gently, and only the ever vigilant Reigin heard his words, ‘we need you soon. You are the only hope we have. You alone can wield the Shadow Blade and the evil beasts which stalk us fear only this. We can perhaps slay the others with what skills we posses, but these
Shadow Hunters
are beyond us. Rest now and gather your strength for we ...’

Suddenly Sylvion gave a start and opened her eyes. To Rema it seemed she was far off. She grasped his hand and spoke most fearfully.

‘Rema they are coming, you must stand against them all.’ He griped her hand and smiled.

‘I will fight Sylvion,’ he whispered, ‘but you must...’ but she cut him off once more.

‘You have your bow...your arrows.. you need them now Rema, do you have them?’ She demanded so fiercely that Rema knew she was greatly distressed.

‘I have my arrows. I have my bow.’

At this Sylvion seemed to be reassured and she let go his hand and once more slipped into unconsciousness.

Reigin spoke then, indicating Rema’s quiver with a gentle thrust of his chin.

‘How many arrows do you have Rema Bowman that you can defeat those who come against us?’

Rema did not need to look for he knew the answer.

‘As you can see Reigin my friend, I have but five remaining.’ He frowned, for to speak of it made the reality seem far worse.

‘Five against so many. We are not well placed Rema Bowman.’ Reigin spoke to the air rather than to Rema, as though weighing the situation and finding it greatly wanting.

Rema looked at the giant soldier.

‘I thank you Reigin for all you have done; for Sylvion and for this cause. We may die today, together in this strange place, but none can undo the good which you have done.’

These words sat well in Reigin’s heart, for to talk of doing good for the sake of it, was also new, and gave a feeling which he liked immensely.

‘I have learnt much from this Lady Sylvion, Rema Bowman,’ he replied with immpressive honesty, ‘and I have watched you closely. You are a man of great talent and few vices. If I die today in your service it will be an honour.’

‘It will be an honour to fight alongside one such as you my friend,’ said Rema and he lent across and the two grasped hands firmly and enjoyed the bond which stood between them.

‘And now to prepare as best we can,’ said Rema as he stood. ‘Let me know if she returns to us, for I will need to speak to her when she understands once more.’

‘Go Rema and I will watch over her. I will die before any harm her further.’

*

Commander Leander staunched the steady flow of blood from the wound in his left arm with a piece of hastily torn canvas from one of the fallen tents close by. He felt the pain of it not near as much as the anger which possessed him, for he felt the humiliation of one who had been shown up before his men.

‘Six thousand we had, and they ride straight through us as though we are nothing!’ He hissed and cursed as he tied off the rough bandage. The King and Zelfos were coming to their senses and he growled at them too.

‘We will follow immediately!’ There was no room for argument, and even Zelfos now saw the deadly anger consuming the giant wounded soldier.

‘I agree Commander,’ he said shrewdly, ‘they are weakening. The
Shadow Blade
did not burn brightly at the end and we were able to respond far better than last night. I believe we wounded some.’

The King too was highly agitated and ordered his war horse brought quickly, only to be told that it had been hit by an arrow and lay dead nearby. He swore loudly, cuffed the hapless bearer of the news about the head and demanded another steed.

Aaraghant the first Underlourde rode up with his new steward, a tough and experienced soldier who lacked a thumb on his sword hand. It was a recently healed wound of which he would not speak.

‘Let us give chase my Lords,’ Aaraghant cried and reared his magnificent black steed whilst pointing his sword in the direction of their enemy. His armour glistened in the sun and even his horse was a sight to behold, all leather highly polished and with an immaculately groomed mane and tail.

King Petros almost screamed in frustration that this man of all men should appear before him and seem so well prepared when he was not.

‘We will give chase when I give the order Aaraghant.’ He yelled at no one in particular as he looked around wildly. ‘Where is a horse for the king? Does no one listen to my demands?’

Zelfos mounted his own horse and was ready. He could hardly contain his excitement, for he had seen them all. Sylvion the heir, Rema Bowman the archer and Reigin the tall one. They would be trapped by their mad scheme to charge as they had done. The forest held his Shadow Hunters and the Shadow Blade seemed to be failing.

‘Come sire,’ he called and then saw the dark look of thunder upon the king’s face and called out in support. ‘Is there no horse for the King?’

Confusion reigned for a time before a large party of armed men surged forth into the forest in pursuit. Behind them more and more soldiers gathered and followed on foot. Before long there were hundreds, riding and running up the rocky path which Rema and his small party had swept almost clean of vegetation only a span before. At their front rode King Petros and his Commander Leander, for now seemingly untroubled by his wound. Zelfos was behind with Aaraghant and his steward. Several mounted
Wolvers
had managed to ride to the front and joined them, and unseen by all were the three
Shadow Hunters
which moved silently as death through the forest, easily keeping pace with the eager pursuers.

They climbed up steadily along the worn white road and soon arrived at the place where the mighty
Equin
lay dead. They stopped in awe.

‘These are mighty beasts indeed’ said Leander, walking around Thunder whose magnificent body even in death commanded great respect.

‘Come,’ said Zelfos with barely a glance at the fallen enemy. He was hardly able to contain himself. ‘They are not far ahead, we can corner them surely.’

At that moment the three Shadow Hunters appeared from the forest, and a sudden fear came upon those present. No one spoke. They were huge and desperately evil, and to look upon one gave a sense that some fell door to a nether world stood open in lustful wait. The largest creature, which had had been trampled underfoot by Thunder’s first charge, sniffed the ground, and went up to the fallen stallion, the mightiest of the
Equin,
and vengefully raked his awful talons across the now lifeless flank; it was still warm and opened easily to such a senseless attack. The blood ran deep upon the earth and sizzled strangely around the Shadow Hunter’s claws. It gave a high pitched scream which sprang not from fear but more from the thrill of what was spilt. All who heard shivered involuntarily.

Zelfos suddenly spoke to them in a strange unearthly tongue and they instantly followed him toward the mist filled cleft which boiled and churned in magical expectation.

The King was irritated that Zelfos led the way, but he was helpless to protest for the Shadow Hunters filled the cleft from wall to wall and the stink of some foul mess was almost overpowering.

A great force now arrived to enter and do battle with an enemy which had so thoroughly defeated them five times in hardly more than a day, but the
Vaudim
was ruled by deeper laws which could not be set aside no matter what plans of men came against it.

A single score had first passed through, and those that came in pursuit would be allowed the same. As El-Arathor had spoken, so it was to be.

As that number entered the misty cleft, when the final living thing which made the score complete had crossed beyond some mark set down in ages past, the
Vaudim
sealed itself with such power that all heard it close, and trembled.

A mighty pulse of energy exploded high into the sky and a shimmering  wave  of pure light raced fast down the mountain and out over the plains below, almost all the way to
Fellonshead
where Anderlorn and the
Edenwhood
waited. As it faded away, the vast remnant of King Petros’ wounded army seemed to lose the will to fight and looked to other things to occupy their time, for word quickly spread that the King and a chosen few had entered into some final battle alone.

Leander gathered his small force together when after a span they stumbled out of the strange mist filled cleft and fetid smell into the vast amphitheatre which was the
Vaudim
of old.

Zelfos was unnerved by the obvious magic which had limited their numbers so, but his three Shadow hunters were unperturbed and melted quietly into the dark places by the towering caldera wall, where forest and rock met in a sudden abruptness.

Aaraghant had made it through, as had his one thumbed steward. The king and Zelfos and the three fell creature made it eight and Leander noted with satisfaction that the rest were
Wolvers
, twelve in all, and these the best of the breed; each eager to wield their swords and have done with such a slippery foe.

The wounded commander surveyed the
Vaudim
as one expert in judging how best the shape of the land could be used to go to war.

‘They are waiting for us,’ he said quietly, and pointed to where the figure of Rema stood alone at the front of the distant rock shelf. ‘They are well placed but have not our speed. The woman lies as though wounded, and she has the weapon of light. It has failed her before and perhaps if we make haste together we can overpower them before she can wield it again.’

His men listened impassively, except for Aaraghant, who seemed to puff himself up and he swept his sword back and forward as though to encourage himself. His bow was slung across his broad shoulders and his quiver was full of silver tipped arrows, a detail which did not escape Leander’s notice.

At that moment the King stepped forward and spoke.

‘Men you will take no prisoners. There will be no mercy. I will personally reward the man who slays the woman or the archer. This threat to Revelyn has come to this. A score against a score. None shall leave until it is settled. Fight well.’ The Wolvers saluted, fisted hand to breast. Zelfos scowled.