Once We Were Kings (Young Adult Fantasy) (The Sojourner Saga) (39 page)

From the ranks of resurrected Sojourner troops, a tall and formidable man with flowing white hair, a silver breastplate and shield—upon which was emblazoned a royal blue dragon—turned and approached Render and Ahndien and pulled them to their feet.

At first glance, from the wizened face and sagacious eyes, the man seemed hundreds of years old.  But from the powerful arms, sturdy posture and chest, he could well be a young man, but a few years older than Render.  He inclined his head.

"Hail, Great Deliverer!  Mikahl, High Commander of the Sojourners reporting.  I await your command."

Even then, the demon horde fell upon the front lines.  A furious battle ensued.  Beasts of light wrestled, twisting and writhing against the dark shadow hordes.  Mikahl did not so much as blink.

Render looked to Ahndien and nodded to the hapless Tianese and Torians.  Understanding, she agreed.  "Yes."

"Very well then, Commander," said Render.  "Assemble a battalion to protect the Tianese and Torians.  If they become ready to fight, employ your best judgment."

"Sire."  Mikahl turned, put two fingers in the corners of his mouth and blew a loud whistle.  Right away, a flock of seagulls—much larger than usual—formed a line before all the human troops.

Had he blinked, Render might not have witnessed them transform into a solid wall of mail-clad warriors, swords and crossbows at the ready.

Gently placing a hand on the back of Ahndien's head, he pulled her in close and kissed her.  "You should stay here."

"I am charged by Valahandra to protect you.  I will not leave your side."

"You could die.  Did He consider that?"

She turned her eyes downward.  For a moment it seemed she might change her mind.  But then lifted her face and with the same blazing glare as when they first met she said, "I only know what He told me.  And I will obey."

He knew better than to argue with her.

"Then we'll die together."  Render took her by the hand, but to his surprise, she began to lift off the ground by her own power.

"You shall surely not die," Ahndien said, as he flew up and joined her.  "You've a kingdom to deliver and establish."

Aloft, with Ahndien by his side, Render drew his sword, gave Ahndien a grave nod, then to Mikahl—who also raised his sword, indicating to the remaining Sojourner troops they were to join the battle.

"And now," Render said, all Sojourner eyes fixed upon him and ready to engage, "For Valhandra!"

A mixture voice both of human and beast, the Sojourner battle cry shook the air.  "For Valhandra!"

CHAPTER NINETY-ONE

Flying directly into the battle, Render took heart.  The glowing Sojourner warriors, resurrected from ages past must have been spirit creatures because only they could effectively combat the demon horde.  No human mortal seemed able to stop them as they passed through solid matter.  Mikahl, however, led the charge and repelled the first wave.

By Valhandra's wisdom, the help had come.

But could they stop Mooregaard and the unending stream of demon warriors pouring out of the black whirlwind?  As they hovered over the battlefield, swords held out, both Ahndein's and Render's blades touched, his crackling with bridled azure lightning and hers ablaze like a long golden torch.

"They're coming!" Ahndien said, her voice taut with dread.

The next wave of smoke spewed out of the whirlwind, past the ground battle, and straight at Render and Ahndien.  The dark smoke snaked out at them, then dispersed into countless bats the size of hawks.  All round them Render could see nothing but blackness.  All he heard was the shrill shrieking, the relentless flapping, as they engulfed them.

He could barely breathe.

The rancid stench of decay and of blood choked him.  Even before he could swing his sword, Ahndien began slashing into the swarm.  Every few seconds the fire from her sword sliced an opening in the flying pitch, affording a ray of sunlight to come through.  But it never lasted more than a moment.  Even more bats filled the space.

Render shouted in pain as one of them bit into his shoulder, piercing his shirt and skin with its fangs.  With his left hand charged with power, he grabbed it.  Instantly, it turned to ash.  But the wound from its bite still burned with pain.

He continued to slash at the bats, each time cutting open a swath of sunlight, each time watching the blackness fill it again.  They could continue this for a while, but it kept them from the real battle below.

Ahndien strained and shouted as she struck dozens with each stroke.  "I can't stop them, Render!"

From the corner of his eye, through the opening in the swarm, he saw the vulture.  Mooregaard, ominous and massive in size, slowly hovering towards the Tianese and Torians.  "We've got to get out!"

As though in response, the swarm closed in even tighter.  Bats fluttered in his nose, ears, hair.  They bit into his neck, arms and legs, faster than he could burn them off.   But he kept his eyes on Ahndien.

She fought them off well with her sword until a dozen of them knocked or pried it from her hands.  It fell silently into the black stream which swallowed it into the whirlwind.

Render sheathed his sword, flew straight at Ahndien and wrapped her in his arms.  "Shield yourself."

"You'll burn!"

"Just for a moment."

"No!"

// AHNDIEN, PLEASE.  IT'S OUR ONLY WAY OUT! //

The swarm became like a solid wall, closing in on all sides, biting, pulling on hair and clothes with sharp teeth.  They would tear the flesh from their bones if this continued.

"Trust me," Render said.  "Just one quick burst."

She agreed, then hid her head in his chest.

The swarm was so tight around them he could hardly breathe.  Each time he tried, it constricted even more.

// ONE BURST, AHNDIEN.  READY? //

He felt her nod tightly.

// NOW! //

In a flash of blue and gold light, a deep thunderclap that deafened Render's ears momentarily, Ahndien's fire melded with his lighting.  The collision of forces detonated.  Heat, lightning and fire shot out in all directions.  The energy sphere exploded, incinerating the swarm in an instant.

It also sent Render and Ahndien flying back in opposite directions.  Render remained aloft, but Ahndien seemed to have lost consciousness and plummeted into the melee below.

Eyes still stinging from the smoke and smell of burnt hair and bat flesh, he fought the backwards momentum.  Tried to fly over and catch her.  But he was too far.  She would be dashed against the rocks or killed in the midst of the swords, spears and arrows.  "Ahndien!" 

Then, out from behind the rocks, along the outskirts of the valley, a singular body came bounding at incredible heights and speed.  It was Branson!

Bouncing off the heads and shoulders of the unsuspecting demon warriors, he knocked them to the ground before they even knew what hit them.  He gave a loud whoop and caught Ahndien in his arms just yards above the fighting.

"Follow me!" He said and pointed his chin to the eastern edge of the valley. "Mooregaard's over there!"

Fully recovered, though tiny needles prickled every inch of his body, Render flew after Branson and Ahndien, who was now awake and able to fly on her own.

It was difficult to discern if the Sojourners or the forces of Malakandor were winning.  Thousands of both had fallen.  The Tianese and Torian troops, now released from their enchanted frozen state, cheered and rattled their armaments behind a fiery line of Sojourner spirits.  "Let us fight!" they shouted.  But their natural weapons would have no effect on the mist-like demon troops, no matter how real they appeared.

"Hurry, Render!"  Branson led them to a rock ledge which overlooked a secluded area below.  As Render alighted, he touched Ahndien's face tenderly.  Her hair was singed and dark burn marks covered the edges of her clothes, but she was otherwise unharmed.  He turned to Branson.

"Why, you're like some kind of..."

"Don't even say it.  All my life, I knew there was something special about me.  I just never expected to manifest the spirit potential of a blasted frog!"

Ahndien kissed his cheek.  "Frog spirit or not, I'm grateful."

He wiped the moisture off as though it were poison.  "There'll be none of that, now!"

"Where's Mooregaard?" Render whispered.

"Down there."

He glanced down but saw nothing but sand.  But from beneath them, under the space over which the precipice hung, a whooshing sound caught his attention.  All he could see below was a flash of light.  Then came the smell of sulfur and smoke.

"What's he doing down there?" Render asked, unwilling to fly out before knowing.

 "It's..." Branson's eyes lit up in a mixture of joy and fear.  He leaned over to take a look over the edge.  "Why, it's..."

"What, Branson?  What is it?" Ahndien said.

"He's fighting Mooregaard, but something's wrong.  We've got to help."  Branson stretched his neck again and almost fell over the edge. 

Render caught him by the collar and pulled him back. "Once and for all, who or what is fighting Mooregaard?"

Branson's lip quivered.  "My father!"

CHAPTER NINETY-TWO

“Traitor!" cried the tall and imposing knight as Render, Branson and Ahndien descended quietly to the ground and hid behind a rock.  Clad in shining silver armour, a crimson shield in hand, he thrust his sword forward at Lord Mooregaard, who stood in human form.

From the sword, a stream of fire blasted straight at the black knight but he simply waved his hand and snuffed it out with a mighty wind.  It threw his opponent back two steps.  "Ah, Lord Agon," Mooregaard said, with alarming calm and an unnerving smile.  "Thou shewest thy true colors.  I have always suspected you to be a Sojourner."

Render looked to Branson and whispered, "You're the son of a Sojourner."

Agon pointed his sword at Mooregaard and glared.  "You know nothing but treachery!  You've betrayed your people, blamed every atrocity on the last of our people.  But it was you and Volfoncé behind it all!" He sent forth another fireblast.

Unimpressed, Mooregaard held up a hand and deflected it back.

Agon held up his shield.

"Where is Volfoncé, anyway?" Mooregaard asked himself pensively gazing past Agon.

"No doubt reaping the rewards of her betrayal, if there is any justice!" Another blast of fire.  This one came a bit closer to its target before Mooregaard once again extinguished it.

"Out of my way, fool!  Cease your annoying ranting and I will make your death quick."

Branson almost leapt out.  Render caught his arm and prevented him.  "Spring too soon, and you'll lose the element of surprise."

"We have to help him!"

"And so we shall, but at the precise moment, when Mooregaard is vulnerable."  Render loosened his grip when Branson seemed to understand.  Ahndien put her arm around the boy's shoulders.

"Just as Mooregaard transforms, we'll strike," Render said.

Mooregaard stepped forward, annoyed at being cornered in the rockface.  With a wave of his hand, he threw a blast of wind at Branson's father and knocked him off his feet.  He dropped and landed with his knee pressed into Agon's breastplate.  From Mooregaard's sleeve, a dagger slipped out and fell into his hand.  He pressed the point into Lord Agon's throat.

Branson hissed.  "He's not going to transform."

"Wait!"

But Render was too late to stop him.

Branson leapt into the air and shouted with more ferocity than anyone could have imagined. 

At the sound of it, Mooregaard turned and glanced around.  "What was that?"

From about fifty feet in the air, Branson crashed down onto his shoulders with all his might.  This knocked him to the ground and off of Lord Agon's chest.  The dagger tumbled and sunk tip-down into the sand.

Branson sat on the ground kicking Mooregaard repeatedly in the head.

"Branson!" His father cried.

"I've got him, father!"  He continued to kick with such rapid force, Mooregaard could not even get to his feet.  Every time he tried, Branson kicked him down.  In vain, the black knight groped for the dagger, but each time he did, Branson kicked him, pushing him just out of reach.

Though it seemed to weaken him significantly, Mooregaard, prideful to the end, only laughed with each blow.

Render and Ahndien flew forward calling for Branson.  Even his father shouted for him to stop and escape.  But Branson refused.  The frenzied state that besieged him would not permit him.  He punctuated each kick with a word:

"You vile!...Piece!...Of!...Dung!"

Mooregaard stopped struggling.  Even as his fingers wrapped around the dagger's handle, his body went limp.

"Die...traitor!"

And finally, Mooregaard ceased moving altogether.

Branson stopped kicking and looked at Mooregaard's still body, his head turned to the side revealing open, lifeless eyes.

"Ha!"  Momentarily, Branson's own eyes glowed a venomous green hue.  "Ha-ha!"

Render took a step forward.  "Branson, come away from him.  Carefully."

"You're dead, Mooregaard!  Dead, dead, dead!"

"Son..."  Agon approached cautiously.  He seemed disturbed by the display of unmitigated hatred from his child.

But the anger in Branson's eyes soon became tears.  "Father...I obeyed your command...went to the mountains...I never knew we were—"

"Son, look out!"  Agon rushed forward, threw his son behind him.

Sooner than Render, Ahndien or Lord Agon could react, Mooregaard grasped the dagger which lit up in a deadly green glow, and hurled it straight into Agon's chest.  With a sickening clank, it penetrated the silver plating and sunk straight into his heart.

Still reaching forward with his sword, Agon fell to his knees.  A fiery blast flew from his weapon, but as soon as it dropped from his hand, the fire died.

"Father, no!"  Branson shouted and tried to leap into the air.  But Mooregaard caught him by the foot, stood up and threw him aside like a cover-worn book.   He grunted as he landed in the sand and skidded to a halt.