The Misadventures of Ka-Ron the Knight (55 page)

The
Argo
had made itself known.

Upon seeing the familiar wooden ship, both Rohan and Dorian jumped up and down, cheering. Again, that wonderful wizard of theirs had managed to pull off a miracle.

With several clanks and jitters, the bow of the ship shook and stopped within twenty sticks of the king.

"What in hell is that thing?" Rakamore asked, pointing wildly at the ship.

"That is my backup, sire," Rohan stated, grabbing a true bow and bolt of arrows. He felt whole again, now that he was fully and traditionally armed.

"There is nothing you can do," Rakamore shouted, making sure all around him could hear clearly, "that will make me surrender my crown."

Both Dorian and Rohan looked at each other.

"Keeth!" Dorian shouted upward.

There was a moment of silence.

"Yes?" came a voice from the
Argo
.

"Bring out the surprise package," the dwarf directed.

The entire bow of the ship filled with the sound of escaping air.

"What?" Rolmore asked, pointing at the
Argo.

Rohan held up a comforting hand, calming his brother.

"The wizard is an old student of the noble arts," the elf stated to the captain. "Do not worry so. He is a worthy ally."

Once enough pressure was obtained in the belly of the ship, two square doors big enough for a horse to walk through slid open. Again, two huge sections of the hull pulled back and folded upon the other, adding to the ship's combative strength.

That is not what caused concern in the Imperial Guards' resolve.

The two long-barreled guns, which slowly poked out and focused their attention upon the king, did cause concern.

"I am within my rights to warn you, sir," Keeth stated, "that I am fully qualified to fire these devices."

With that said, each gun zeroed in upon the king, making him their target.

Falling into a rage, Rakamore screamed at the top of his lungs. He spotted a young boy, who was just staring at him - doing nothing - and made him the victim of his wrath.

"The blazes with all of you!" he screamed.

Withdrawing his sword, Rakamore decapitated the innocent elf and cut the remainder of his body to pieces. As each elf tried to stop the king, they too had a hand, arm, or leg severed as well. After a while, the crazed ruler was allowed to ensconce himself and his loyal guardsmen upon the landing of the Great Hall's staircase. With each advance of the group, Keeth maneuvered his ship's guns to follow the man.

There was no escape.

There was no way out of the toppling of this government.

But, in the end, who can convince a madman?

"I loved you!" Rakamore cried, almost pleading to his people. "I took care of you! And, now, you do this to me?"

The crowd had started to stir.

Nowhere in known memory had an elf king been treated so. No one, honestly, knew what to do next.

There was a moment of pause.

That was all the guardsmen needed.

The Imperial Guardsmen of the Royal Court were the best elves of the military. Some had seen more combat than entire nations. Ka-Ron had fought alongside some of these men, and quite tragically, could identify most of them. They were all loyal to the core. They would not surrender.

"Jatel, prepare your bow!" the woman yelled, quickly picking up hers.

Ka-Ron saw the advance before anyone had a chance to react. She cursed herself for not having foreseen the tactic.

She would have done it, if given the chance.

Several guardsmen reached behind their backs, upon seeing the hesitation in the eyes of their fellow countrymen, and pulled out crossbow-like devices containing rope ladders. Half fired up at the Grand Hall. Half fired upon the
Argo.
They were planning a simple task of divide and escape.

"Molly! En-Don!" Ka-Ron yelled. "Get ready for trouble."

Both were too busy to respond. Molly stood loading up her rock slings. En-Don was seen pulling out his sword. The young man turned the weapon about in the air, warming up his arms for battle.

The knight let out a worried exhalation.

This was not going to be a good battle, Ka-Ron calculated, simply by the odds. They were outnumbered by at least fifteen to one.

"He will do well, Ka-Ron."

Jatel looked over at his master and flashed her a gentle smile. He was well aware of her worry. He sensed it as well. En-Don was not a tested soldier, as were both of his parents, but, the squire reminded himself of the fact, that, long ago, both he and Ka-Ron were once "new" to the arts of war.

The knight simply nodded, and aimed her weapon.

The Imperial Guardsmen did as Ka-Ron had predicted. Over half of them grabbed hold of Rakamore and headed to a more secure footing upon the roof of the Great Hall. The other half focused upon the
Argo.

"Attack the invaders!" one of the Guardsmen yelled. "Save the king!"

As each Guardsman scaled the side and landed upon the main deck of the ship, he pulled out a sword and baton. It was their desire, while injuring an opponent with their swords, that the elves would finally disable that opponent with the baton. It was a useful and tasteless tactic of assault, time-proven in the arts of elfish war.

"Oh, shit!" Jatel yelled, spotting an elf popping up in front of him while scaling the side of the ship. Out of arrows, the man turned the butt of his weapon around and smashed the unfortunate elf's nose. The squire was sprayed with bluish blood. "That's one down." he joked.

Ka-Ron was shooting arrows as fast as she could load them. Although quite skilled with the bow, she preferred the sword. En-Don had taken the burden of the weapon, and she missed it - a lot. Three soldiers fell to their deaths, having realized that invasion of the
Argo
from Ka-Ron's post would not be an easy task.

The elf townspeople were just as divided as their armies. Loyal citizens towards the king ran with great panic upon the doors of the Great Hall. Some were even fortunate enough to find safety within the ancient elfin walls. However, most loyal subjects were surprised and horrified to hear Rakamore order the closing of the doors. If siege were to come, the king needed to guarantee the safety of The Council of the Twelve. At least, that would become the "official" story after all this was over.

The remaining townsfolk joined the forces of Rolmore.

"Attack the hall!" the elf captain charged.

A wave of hungry soldiers, with swords extended, gave out a furious yell as they ran up the marble stairs of their capital. Several generals upon fiery horses led those men, hoping to finish successfully. But, the ancient builders' skills were too good.

The doors held.

Upon the Great Hall's roof, the Guardsmen poured hot oils and dangerous acids down upon the unsuspecting horde. Screams of agony and curses of death rained upon those who dared to question the viability of the crown. The once beautiful gardens of the Royal Palace were now reduced to the bitter vocation of a graveyard.

All knew this was not going well.

"We are losing!" Keeth yelled.

"Shut up, wizard, and fire the cannons!" Molly shouted, knocking an elf out upon the deck. The redhead had an ugly cut across the bridge of her nose. Although no longer a vampire, she still retained some of her vampiric powers. She still had the strength of ten men, and even she was running out of ways to stop the guardsmen from invading the
Argo
.

"Keeth!" Jatel yelled, his voice sounding fearful. "Shoot!"

The wizard grabbed at his levers.

The
Argo's
guns moaned themselves to life.

The two huge pillars of iron slowly moved, focused, and aimed their destructive power upon the huge copper doors of the Great Hall.

The Guardsmen saw their chance and took it.

Three elves, grabbing explosives thrown to them from the soldiers guarding the king, rushed up to the ship's approaching guns. With calm hands, each placed fuses, set timers, and threw their weapons into the mouths of each gun.

Before Keeth could react, the
Argo's
bow exploded into a cascade of fire, smoke, and a rain of wooden splinters.

Ka-Ron and Jatel were knocked from their posts.

The
Argo
had lost her teeth.

We are winning the day!

Rakamore watched in horror as the bow of the
Argo
exploded. The ship herself remained mostly intact. However, if she were to ever threaten anyone ever again, the wizard in charge of her would soon have to replace his guns. The shrapnel from those guns, however, was most destructive.

Elves littered the grounds.

"How could I have let such a thing happen?" the king asked himself.

The Lurker heard the comment, and attacked.

Rakamore grabbed at his head, screaming. The pain was fantastic, causing the elf to teeter and fall to the floor. Several guardsmen tried to help the ailing king, only to be forced back to their grim duties by his commanding hands.

You do not comment! You do not think! You just
&
are.

The king, who had lost all emotion, rose.

"Continue with your attack," Rakamore ordered. "Upon completing it, bring me any and all survivors. After today's executions, I'm sure none will ever again question the position of the crown."

"Sire!" several elves responded. Most flung off the roof and headed straight into battle. A few stayed to protect the king.

The odds are certainly in our favor. Once this battle is done, we shall send others to awaken more Lurkers. Then, our mission can begin. Finally! A purpose!

The elfin king's eyes widened with horror and revelation.

"This is only the beginning," Rakamore whispered.

The tiny Lurker read the king's mind, and it allowed him "that" thought.

No one seemed to notice the tears falling upon the king's cheeks.

The crew of the
Argo
had their hands full.

At least twenty of the Imperial Guard had attacked the members of the tiny ship's crew. Even Keeth was doing his part to help protect the vessel. Ka-Ron and Jatel both were impressed with the old man's knowledge of hand-to-hand combat. The wizard had personally thrown two elves overboard, once they had invaded his bridge. One unfortunate elf, upon entering the hut covering the wheelhouse, earned the wrath of the wizard and became the victim of a sleep curse. Given enough time, the elf would wake and recover - in twenty seasons.

"Well done, wizard!" En-Don stated, pulling his sword from his last victim. "Now, let me have at them."

The young man had been a wonder. His skills had improved vastly since the last time he had been needed to help protect anyone. Both Ka-Ron and Jatel believed that his knowledge was given to him by the same spell which conceived him. So, in a small part, En-Don's fighting skill was due to Kai's evil. Had it been the first time that evil had been used in such a positive way?

"Sire!" Jatel stated, after punching the teeth out of an elf. "En-Don is
shadow swording
!"

Ka-Ron's eyes turn inquisitive. "I have never heard of the term."

"It is an ancient form of war, taught only to the knights of Illium," Jatel marveled. "He got that from me. He is fighting the way my father's fathers had fought."

Five elves surrounded En-Don.

The young man did not seem fazed by his grim surroundings. Instead, he stood in the middle of the circle of enemy combatants and closed his eyes. If he were to succeed, his eyes could no longer serve his purpose. They would betray him. If he continued to gaze upon five men surrounding his body, his brain would ultimately provoke him to lose. How could one outfight five?

So, En-Don escaped the outside world, surrendering to the mist in his own mind. There all he had to do was face the challenge of one - himself.

"Molly!" Jatel warned. "Back away."

Molly, having spotted the situation into which her lover had fallen, broke the necks of the two elves she was holding, and decided to offer her aid. Her face was covered with blood, and one of her eyes had swollen shut, via a nasty cut. She was certain the scar was permanent, and would require a patch, once it healed.

"He is not aware!" the squire stated.

Shadow Swording
was indeed a lost art. In fact, En-Don didn't even know the name of the tactic. He only knew that he knew it. Listening to his inner voice, it was the only option left open to him, if he were to succeed.

The elves readied their batons.

"Hold!" En-Don yelled, his right hand extended in an open-hand gesture.

The elves paused.

It was all the opportunity En-Don needed.

Spinning his sword with his left hand, he constantly kept the weapon in flight. Two of the elves, amazed by his swordsmanship, were caught off guard and did not recover until it was far too late.

Blood splashed and heads bounced upon the deck.

En-Don moved a half-circle. His eyes never opened.

"Molly," Jatel stated, pulling the woman to safety, "he is not himself. He is only attacking what his sword senses, now."

Molly looked to Ka-Ron for answers.

"I have no idea," was all the knight could say, looking at both Jatel and her son with a sense of mystery. "It appears, Molly, that there is more to our men than we were first led to believe."

"Indeed?" Molly's face was all surprise.

The remaining elves tried their best to fool En-Don's senses by creating false noises and movements. Some did work. And En-Don's sword sliced through more air than it did flesh. But still, the young man continued with his fight.

Shifting from tactics devised in ancient Illium, En-Don flew straight into the arena of Idoshian glory. Upon opening his eyes, the man switched hands, spinning his sword in a way kindred to that of his mother's.

One more unfortunate elfish head bounced to the deck.

"Climb its sides!" a voice had shouted.

Curious, both Ka-Ron and Jatel inspected the sides of the hull.