The Elf King (56 page)

Ern Dwull squeezed the
pommel of his broadsword as tight as he could. He was nervous. He
could see the enemy almost a hundred yards away. It was hard to
calm his nerves, but once he was able to swing his sword, things
would be better. “Let their blood fall like rain to flood the
Shyl!”

“
Let it be so now!” Terill
turned back to face the army behind him. “Fire!”

Instantly the groaning of
dozens of catapults launching filled the silence in a thunderous
wave. Their volleys sped overhead, lost in the darkness of the
pitch clouds, their roar shooting out across the vast Plains out of
sight. A second volley launched just as quick, unseen to even the
army standing twenty yards away. Men and Elves stood looking across
the span of the grassy field, anxious to see the first set reach
their mark. Seconds later, the dark horizon erupted in giant
explosions. One after another, massive fireballs shattered the
midst of the unaware, sending lighted shockwaves spreading across
the Plains. Holes disintegrated into the earth several feet deep
and several acres wide, shredding through the night killing
everything in a wide arch. The
Takers
in the front were wiped clean
of existence. Hundreds turned to ash instantly. Terror shrieked and
screamed in agonizing wails then as
Takers
realized what was happening.
The sounds were frightening, deafening.

A roar swept into the night
then, matching that of the demons, as Men and Elves rejoiced. Men
scrambled around the catapults, quickly loading another volley,
setting the burst charges in place, waiting for Ern’s
command.

“
Again!” Ern screamed,
raising his sword skyward into the dark.

Takers
were running then, charging ahead with madness beyond reason,
searching for anything living. They were close enough now to sense
the magic. Aware as well of the whistling of the incoming burst
charges raining down to destroy them. They pressed on harder then,
pushing to breech the gap, to close the distance of the attack, to
escape the blasts as the air above them began streaking with that
familiar whistling. Suddenly the earth exploded in their midst
again. Hundreds pressed on without looking back. The rest found
paths around the deep impressions in the ground, running
frantically.

“
They’re coming!” Ankar Rie
shouted, preparing himself for the attack.

Ern Dwull stood next to
him, his sword raised, his breathing already ragged. “I have
something for them, from the King!”

Far to the east and west
bright flickers of light sparked in quick eruptions as the Elves on
the flanks unleashed their assault. Tremors raced back all the way
to Terill, as the edges of the horizon became a war zone. Hundreds
of lights flickered and died quickly, the screams spilling into the
air across the Plains in terrible waves. The
Takers
were under attack from all
sides now, and those closest to the Lyyn Forest raced frantically
for it, to destroy the Elves hiding within its cover.

“
Steady yourselves!”
Dornawee called out. “They cannot see you yet!”

“
Wait for our signal!”
Terill yelled to Dornawee.

They stood motionless,
watching the first wave of
Takers
charge towards them, listening to the nightmarish
sounds spewing from their forsaken mouths. The
Takers
moved in fast, angry and
blood-thirsty. Growling and hissing they came in a frenzied
rage.

Then they slowed, and
stopped altogether.

The
Takers
stood at the edge of the
illusion. As they found themselves on the verge of entering the
Lyyn Forest, they could feel the magic all around them. They could
sense it in use. They could smell its sources close at hand. Though
they saw only trees in the darkness, they could sense that
something was wrong. Cautiously, they entered the forest, sniffing
out the traces of magic.

Ankar Rie swallowed hard
standing next to Terill Estrial, both standing ahead of their
armies. It took all he had not to act on his instincts and invoke
his magic. Then, as the fleet of demons arrived, several
Takers
stood beside him,
passing by him slowly, some of them brushing into him, others
hissing as they looked at him and around him, growling as they
found no one. Ankar held firm and drew no unwanted attention. He
thought for sure that they would be able to see his heart beating,
or hear his blood pumping. He breathed slowly through his slightly
opened mouth, forcing himself to remain calm as
Takers
passed by, stalking through
the forest as hunters moving to flush out their prey. Ankar did not
make any eye contact with them, though several stood within a
breath-length away. He turned his head carefully, looking off to
his right, waiting for the signal from Dornawee.

Dornawee stood motionless
with a mass of
Takers
circling him slowly. They knew something was there, but they
could not tell what. He held his breath. He had cast the last of
his magic into the sky above the army seconds before the
Takers
had reached them,
and now stood waiting for the illusion to fade. It would be a few
moments, he knew. He had sent enough energy with it to ensure that
it would remain long enough for the
Takers
to reach the swordsmen. But
he questioned himself once the demons began sniffing alongside him.
He second-guessed himself to the point where he almost acted
impulsively. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and strike
them before the mirage was up, before they had the chance to find
him. His mind screamed to attack, his blood pumped so quickly that
he was sure they could see his veins throbbing. Act, his senses
told him. Now, they begged. But then the catapults began firing
once again, drawing their attention away from him. A series of
burst charges was sent out into the sea of shifting blackness,
exploding in blue and white fire rings, destroying everything in
their reach.

Takers
howled in pursuit, pushing quickly through the forest they
saw, trying to locate the Elves. Once the catapults fired, they
knew they were close. They moved around the trees and bushes in
vain. High-pitched gasps and moans emitted from beneath their cowls
as they searched. But they found nothing.

The catapults fired
again.

As the last round of
explosions shook the Plains, the
Takers
were close enough now to
notice the movements within the forest. They scrambled around,
racing towards what they saw moving. A hundred of them now were in
the forest, closing in on the catapults, seeing massive wood-framed
carts launching just beyond some trees. They would be on them in
seconds. They would rip to shreds anyone found.

The mirage began to fade
then. Within seconds, it was gone.

Takers
froze with confused uncertainty.

The attack
began.

Instantly the Shyl Plains
roared with dying screams as swords and knives swept through the
closest
Takers
,
catching them by surprise, striking them with blows that sliced
through cloak and bone alike. Terill Estrial threw his hands
skyward, sending dozens of the blackest nightmares ripping from
their hosts, spirits burning to ash, bodies falling in smoking
husks. Ankar Rie and Dornawee shot their magic in lightning bolts
and fire rings, evaporating
Takers
that were within arm’s reach, moving so fast that
the
Takers
had
not time to use their own magic. Other Elves with magic used it to
burst through their enemy in sweeping motions, mowing down the
demons as though they were paper figures. Swords sweeping down to
strike were shining with the glow of the magic splurging around
them. Arrows rained down in a flaming hailstorm. Within in a few
moments, Men and Elves were the only ones standing, as ash rained
down upon them.

“
Launch!” a man yelled
seconds before the men stationed at the catapults were releasing
the triggers, firing another volley.

Arrows were sent skyward
with burst charges as tips. Arrows struck and the explosion of the
charges swept through in wide circular patterns, decimating
everything. More arrows shot skyward, hundreds more, shooting
further back into the depths of their enemies.
Takers
scattered frantically. The
horizon blew apart in blinding lights, one after another, shaking
the ground and forever changing the landscape. Arrows rained down
for several minutes, until
Takers
were no longer seen through the smoke and ash, no
longer heard through the booming eruptions.

The Elves stopped firing.
Men stood waiting. As the air settled, a sheet of darkness remained
motionless a few hundred yards away, hissing with
hatred.

“
They are staying out of
range,” Ern Dwull stated to Ankar Rie. His sword was smeared with a
black liquid, his face speckled with it.

“
They are smart to do so,”
smiled Ankar Rie.

“
If they are smart enough
not to continue their attack, then they may be smart enough to
figure out a plan of assault.” Ern spit, wiping his face across his
shoulder sleeve. “I would rather they be ignorant and run
themselves into my blade.”

Terill Estrial made his way
over to stand with them. His face was angry. His fingers were still
emitting a slight glow from his magic’s use. “If they will not come
to us, then we will go to them. Push them back to the hole they
crawled out of. We will close in on all sides and strangle any
route for escape.”

“
Their sheer number would
make that nearly impossible,” Ern frowned.

Ankar Rie patted Ern on the
shoulder. “Far too early to be counting us out.”

Ern grunted his response
far too low for them to hear. He sighed, looking away to the enemy
lost in the dark.

Dornawee hobbled his way
over to them. His left foot was in obvious pain; his face wincing
with each step. “We will not have another chance to use a mirage.
They know we’re here now. They know what to expect and what to look
for.”

Terill looked down to
Dorn’s foot. “You need a medic.”

Dornawee smiled in spite of
him. “I’ll be fine.”

“
Those burst charges you
gave us worked well.” Ern Dwull sent a nod of gratitude to the old
elf. “What else do you have in store?”

“
Once the burst charges are
gone, we have none. Even while attempting to create our talismans,
the Dark Elves were stealing them, or the necessary ingredients
used to make them. Now the only talisman we have travels
north.”

“
What do you mean?” Ern
Dwull felt like an outsider, watching the others nod as he stood
oblivious.

Dornawee looked out into
the blackness as he began to answer. “We were able to create a
talisman for the elf that travels to the
Mrenx Ku
. He will use it to destroy
the origin of the demons. If the spirit is destroyed, if it can be
as we hope, then the links from it will cease to exist. The horde
will fall.”

“
So, there is hope after
all.” Ern Dwull’s head began to nod as he smiled. The impossible
did not seem so distant now. He felt as if a weight had been
shifted; he felt comforted.

“
There is
still the Issilix Delsoue.” Terill spoke, breaking the silence
between them, as they each stared out across the blackness of the
Shyl Plains. Small fires were scattered everywhere, but the real
burning he knew lay in the monsters out of sight. “Shadox went to
retrieve it. And its wielder. I’ve not heard from him since. But if
the
Ku
was
in search for it, if the Dark Elves knew of its
existence...”

“
I don’t think it’s been
found.” Ankar Rie looked to each of them. “If the spirit came here
for it, then there’s still hope that we can discover it before the
enemy does.”

“
It was here?” Lord
Estrial’s face fixed with wonder. “It was the one who removed the
shield then.”

Ankar nodded. “I believe it
came here thinking that we had the sword in our possession. It
heads back to Cillitran now to keep searching. But I have people
searching for it as well.”

Ern Dwull turned his head
away from the group, staring out across the open plain, losing
thought in the darkness that threatened to swallow them all. As the
warm wind blew gently across his sweaty face, his thoughts drifted
to the Queen, as she was during their brief encounter in the
castle’s tunnel, where she was searching for the sword.
The demon
, he corrected
himself. The Queen had died sometime earlier. How and when, no one
would know. Her dead corpse had been taken over by the spirit,
posing as her, fooling them all. Even those close to her failed to
see the monster beneath the skin.

Beneath Lon’s
skin.

Ern’s stomach turned in a
knot then. He wondered what had become of his friend.
Had Lon called for help and no one came? Or did
help come too late, and the change was not noticed?
The thought made him sick. He ached in a way that
he had never before hurt. Cold chills danced across his skin from
his neck to his feet.
Lon, I am
sorry!