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Chapter 15, Chronicle III - It Starts By William Black Will woke up strangely refreshed. The night before brought whispers of the dark urgings from the demon's blood that still flowed within his veins. Today brought only resolution to what must be done. Morion's people, her very self, depending on the actions he and others were about to take. And for once in his life, he wondered if he'd thought the whole thing through well enough. So many variables existed. And he had never won a chess match against his old mentor. Then again, they'd never played with pieces that were flesh and blood...at least he hadn't. The sun had not yet risen when Morion's troops gathered on the plain. Row upon row of archers stood ready. The Calvary units were preparing their horses and equipment. Will stood was among them, already having his mount ready. It helped his nerves to be busy, keeping his mind of other things. He glanced back at the ridge Morion, Sir Robert, and Morgan would direct the battle from. Normally a leader, like Sir Robert, would be in the heart of the battle, but this wasn't a normal war, and the players didn't fully realise the risks. It wasn't just death and enslavement that awaited them. Will could feel the demon's blood whispering the truth to him. If Morion's troops failed, her and her people would be little better off than those creatures across the valley. Their minds and bodies unrecognisable to their former selves. Their souls twisted and used by Morlyn's own Masters. The true enemy lay behind Morlyn's defection from Truth. Will thought of the young artesian and his Lady. He could still see her blush and giggle back to the man as she watched Will come into the tent, and how the artesian responded. Such promise should be allowed to flower. Such love needed time to grow. "I'm such a fool to believe in love," he told himself only half-jokingly. Shaking his head, he went out to meet Godfrey. ~~~~~ Sir Robert had his men ready an hour before dawn. He had left Morgan and Morion to add the finishing touches to their disguises; wanting instead to clear his mind and heart from all distractions. Yet for some reason he couldn't. Oddly enough, it wasn't his beloved that occupied his thoughts. It was Will. What did the Druid have up his sleeve? Magic? No, Will was too honourable to go against his own word. What then? Another stunt like he and Morgan had pulled off in their assassination of Lord Banon? More than likely. Robert guessed correctly that Will was planning on taking out the Druid Morlyn himself. "Always having to be the damn bloody hero," he said with a sigh. Sir Robert let his musings fall away as he looked across the dimly lit valley. He could sense the enemy more than see the vast horde. He knew they were there; waiting. He spoke quietly to Captain Tactus, giving orders and receiving updates. Then Captain informed him that Sir Will was down among the Calvary troops, preparing himself for battle. Sir Robert instinctively turned to see if he could spot his friend. But all the soldiers were wearing the same type of clothing. In reality, Robert admitted to himself, nothing really distinguished Will from any of the other men under his leadership. Yet there was something in the Druid's heart. Robert couldn't put his finger on it, but it was this that attracted Morgan and now Morion to Will. Sir Robert pulled his attention back to the moment. The battle would begin soon. The sounds of preparations were muted. He'd given orders that his men were to be as quite as possible. There was a hush over the camp with just the occasional clink of armour, a neigh of a horse, or the squeak of leather straps being tightened. It was rather eerie. So much so that Robert jumped at the sound of female voices weaving their way up to him through the early morning silence. Morgan and Morion came riding up to the ridge, and Morgan stopped to give her love a tender kiss. He looked at her for only for a moment, then moved off to take his position. She let her beloved go, but silently nursed a hurt that he hadn't commented on the 'new' look. He was pre-occupied, she told herself. But she didn't like being taken for granted, even in such a dire time as this. They may not ever have a chance to be together again. At least he could have made a comment, even if just to giver her a bit of encouragement. Morion nudged her mount forward past Robert and Morgan. She too could sense the enemy. But her mind was reaching out to someone else; someone unseen in the crowd of soldiers below. The day would bring many deaths. She fervently prayed it wouldn't bring her forces defeat as well. "God speed, my beloved." Morion whispered to the breeze. ~~~~~ As the first rays of light touched the tops of the mountains, a messenger came riding up to where Sir Robert stood with the Ladies Morion and Morgan at his side. The messenger jumped off his horse, and bowed to his commander. "Well, what is it?" Robert snapped. "My Lord, I've been sent by Dr. Ambros. He says to tell you that Sir David is gone. Escaped!" The messenger's eyes reflected fear. Robert's face went pale, then blood red . He calmed himself, but his voice was shaky, "How?" "I don't know, my Lord. Apparently, someone help him escape. The restraining straps were cut with a very sharp knife." Sir Robert considered this news while the soldier continued. It meant, of course, there was a traitor in their midst's. A traitor who obviously had free run of the camp. What else would they find missing, damaged, or ready to break when it was needed most? The messenger interrupted his thoughts, "Captain Tactus sent out a few trackers, but doesn't want to spare any more men before the battle." "Tell the good Captain to pull the trackers back in. The battle will begin soon." "Yes, my Lord." The messenger bowed again, then mounted and rode quickly away. "Well, I hope Will keeps a sharp eye out. It isn't just Morlyn hunting his hide now." Robert looked at the Ladies with him and understood only too well the look he saw reflected in their eyes. Morgan glared at her beloved. "Is that all you have to say? Sir David is going to track down Will and murder him, and that's all you are going to say? By God, why didn't you let those trackers do their job?" "My Lady, this is neither the time nor place to question my decisions or authority! We need every man to stand ready." Robert paused, calming his voice, "Besides, Will knew the risks. He'll not be easily surprised." Morgan's eyes flashed dangerously at her lover. But there was nothing to be done. She had to remain where she was. They all did. And they all knew the risks. Morion's heart ached. Her cherished First Knight gone mad, And her enigmatic Druid going into the battle having enemies both before him and behind. Which would bring him down? Morlyn? Sir David? One of those foul creatures across the valley? Or some other horror that always seemed to be lurking in the dark recesses of these lands she called home. Just her luck to fall in love with a guy crazy enough to care about Life and Nature to the point of risking his own fool life on it. God but she loved him. She didn't realise until now just how deeply the feelings went. And the knowledge. For love is both. Soon such thoughts would be thrust to the background. Only the devastation of the battle would remain. For now, her whole being ached to be with him one more time. ~~~~~ Morlyn's troops, eager for the assault, readied themselves forming a battle line. Morion's forces looked out across the valley. What they saw triggered the emotion intended: blood-chilling fear. The enemy stood as a single dense mass of grotesque monsters and demons stretching out across the width of the valley floor; like a gigantic living landslide ready to rumble across the plain towards its victims. Morlyn designed this show for the very purpose of producing terror in those who beheld the spectacle. It was a weapon of epic proportions. It was Mind Magic. Robert nodded to Sir Alan, who in turn raised his hand in signal to the Falconers. Each equipped their charges with the necessary packages. It all seemed too easy. Release the birds, have Arrow direct them to their intended targets, drop the payloads, and then fly out again. And though the sun wasn't yet up, the sky was bright enough for Arrow to lead the battle of the birds without using the owls. They'd be used as all the others; to carrying the poisons to their targets. Alan dropped his arm and the birds were off into the early morning sky; Arrow leading the charge. The hills rang with the screeches of the raptors. Eagles, Hawks, Falcons, and Owls all heading towards the seething mass of enemy flesh. They flew in formation, wing-to-wing. But as they neared the enemy, Alan had them break off into groups of fours and fives each with a hundred feet between them. It would spread the potions sparingly, but with good affect. Alan hoped it would trigger confusion and infighting among those that where hit. The birds made a low pass, but did not release their bundles. Arrow picked up on Alan's thoughts amazingly well; finding in them the familiarity like that of his own Master's. The enemy soldiers lifted their heads in curiosity to see the cloud of birds passing overhead. If Arrow had been human, he'd have shouted with laughter. He immediately did a 180, followed by the other raptors. Their bundles released as they sped their way back to friendly lines, spreading their dusty contents on the hapless creatures below. For an instant, it appeared that those contacted by the raining powder were unaffected. Then slowly some started itching. Others dropped their weapons with screams of agony, clenching their fists to their eyes. Still others started striking out blindly, eyes wide open but unseeing. Confusion ruled in the foremost ranks. Those further back rushed up thinking Morion's troops had somehow staged a surprise attack. They were right, but didn't expect to find their fellows lashing out at their own comrades. To Morlyn's beasts, it didn't matter. Those not in contact with the potions, just hacked away at their fellows, groping forward over the bleeding and dying. But they didn't advance. They stood their ground, waiting for the orders they knew would come. On a hill, not unlike the one Sir Robert stood, a shadow stirred. At first, it appeared to be nothing more than a bear rising from the ground as if awakened by the first rays of the sun. The shadow continued to rise, straightening itself out to its full height. The wind caught the creature's robe, sending it bellowing out in majestic waves of cloth. The robe belonged to a Druid. Morlyn raised his staff high into the early morning air and then brought the end crashing onto the earth at his feet. Smoke rose as the staff burned the vegetation around it. The sign was given. ~~~~~ Morlyn's troops started forward. The ground shook with their advance and the bone-jarring thumps of the battle drums only increased the anxiety of Morion's forces. They had never seen anything like this before. Most of the men hadn't even been in true battle before. Jousting and sword play, that was what they knew. They were novices; amateurs at war and greatly outnumbered. Will stood by Godfrey. Both watched as the black mass across the valley advanced towards them. And both knew that all too soon the call to battle would be given. They mounted their horses. Will turned his mount and headed to the back of the Calvary unit. Turning once again to face forward, he looked over his shoulder towards the hill where Lady Morion, Sir Robert, and Morgan stood. The breeze caught his robe that Morgan wore. He had to admit, she really looked the part of a Druid. And Morion? He wished he could see her once more before facing his old mentor. But the Fates would not allow it. So he waited for the signal, and prayed for the young Godfrey and his first command. His unit was stationed to the south end of the line. Morlyn was for all practical purposes, situated directly across the valley from him. Will figured he would be able to break free of the main battle and head straight towards his old mentor. He prayed fervently that whatever enemy contingent caught up with him would be dealt with by his comrades-in-arms, leaving him to attend to Morlyn. Will also hoped that Morion would be able to keep her mind on her job and not seek him out. Had he been using his magic, he would have realised other eyes were doing that just now. Eyes belonging to one with every intention of killing the Druid given half a chance. Unaware, Will now kept his eyes on Godfrey, waiting the signal. For his part, Godfrey fidgeted in the saddle. His lance ready and his eyes darting from Morlyn's troops to his Commander on the hill. He noticed all the other Calvary units were ready and waiting just as his was. Then he saw a signal. But it wasn't for an advance. The catapults launched their payloads high into the early morning air with a loud 'ballunk' sound. The packages were tie with fuse; timed to burn away and deliver the contents in large swaths across the advancing enemy line. The bombs flew high, fast, and with surprising accuracy. Once again the troops hit by the contents of the packages went wild; striking out at their own. Howls of rage filled the air. Confusion reigned. Morlyn's troops were momentarily in disarray. Not knowing where to turn or really caring. Sir Alan took the opportunity to send the birds back into action, while the catapults were reloaded. They'd received fresh bundles from the Falconers and heading back into the battle. This time they released their contents further back into the enemy lines. Sir Alan hoped to but the whole enemy army into confusion. The more damage Morlyn's troops inflected on themselves, so much the better. Wave after wave, the birds released their bundles, then flew off to each end of the valley to start their return journey back to Morion's side. Sir Robert ordered the catapults to let go another volley. Success! There was mayhem on the valley floor. Morlyn's troops fought hard amongst themselves; monsters and demons with axes and swords hacking away at their fellows. Their black blood running freely, staining the dirt and making a slippery paste. Morlyn could be seen raising his staff as if to warn his troops. But nothing seem to bring them to order. Even the commanders on the field could do little with their soldiers. Sir Robert ordered the catapults once again reloaded. This time with multiple packages containing a mixture of grease and other explosive ingredients. Again the thunderous sound of catapults being loosed was heard. The packages seem to spread out as they neared their targets. Each having a fuse to ignite the contents when they hit home. Some of the packages hit the ground, spreading fire around the enemy's feet. Others hit some of the larger creatures, creating living torches that ran wildly into their comrades setting everything they touched ablaze. Smoke rose thick and black amongst the enemy forces. Screams of pain and horror rang in the morning air. So hideous the sound that Morion's troops recoiled at the cry. Some of the men lost their stomachs...retching uncontrollably; more from fear than from the sights they were witnessed to. Captain Tactus had his arrow launchers ready. He waited for Roberts signal. Once given, the launchers sprang to life. The horses near the war machines bucked wildly and fight their bits, as the sound of the arrow launchers echoed across the valley. Fast moving clouds of darts slammed into the already bewildered enemy. The death toll was mounting quickly. The first few moments of Morion's campaign were an amazing success. The enemy were in disarray. Morlyn's commanders were without control over their own troops, and Morlyn himself seemed helpless to make his soldiers comply. Then fire laced out from Morlyn's staff. Blue, cold, and unforgiving. It hammered into those closest to him. Within seconds there was nothing left by blackened bones and the rancid smell of smouldering flesh. His troops took the warning; the word of what just happened spreading down the lines like an arrow shot. His troops realigned themselves for the charge. And once again they advanced; holding their spears and pikes steady before them. It was time. Sir Robert was about to give the command to his Calvary when a new sound was heard. At first he would not believe his ears. But the sound came again. Louder; more persistent. Morion's troops chanced a glance in the direction from which the sound came. Even Will looked to his left. Trumpets! Will saw what appeared to be purple banners and flags coming over a small rise to the south. The insignias on the banners where those of the Baron of Saint Yves. He had come. But would his appearance turn out to be a disaster or a blessing. Will chose to believe it would be a blessing. Even the enemy hesitated at the sound, as Morlyn gazed in annoyance at the new interruption. No time to think. Sir Robert gave the signal and the Calvary charged. Lances lowered, each unit formed a fast moving wedge to drive into the enemy; attempting to split them into smaller chunks for ease of attack. At first the enemy held their ground, thrusting the Calvary back; hacking away at horse and rider. Morion's horsemen were the best in the land. They quickly turned and were away before too much damage was inflicted. Each unit quickly turned again, the mounted soldiers lowering their lances for a second strike. This time shouts of fury and rage escaped their throats. Morion's men lunged like madmen into the enemy. Lances splintering on thick demon hide. Those soldiers who lost their lances, used their swords. Cutting deep into the enemy, Morlyn's forces flattered. The middle of the advance halted as Morion's Calvary pushed hard into the centre. Again, Morion's forces disengaged, racing back to regroup. A small contingent of demons had broken off to attend to the new threat that the sudden appearance of the Baron posed. Godfrey's unit took the opportunity to race up the middle between Morlyn's main force and the small unit that went after the Baron. The plan was simple, catch the unit between Morion's Calvary and the Baron's troops. Then turn and attack as a unit into the side of Morlyn's invasion army. Simple. Will knew his time had come. So did the bloodshot eyes that watched. William Black © Continues... Chronicle III, Main page |