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Chapter 16, Chronicle III - Morion's Battle By William Black Godfrey and his men charged up the middle between Morlyn's small contingent and the main body of enemy soldiers. Angling left into the enemy, with lances down, the fury of their charge causing the small band of demons to race forward away from the mounted soldiers, only to hesitate as they saw the Baron's bearing down on them. Trapped, they turned again and made their own charge at Godfrey's men. The clash of sword against shield was deafening. Cries of anger and hatred filled the morning air. Godfrey's men and Will circled back to regroup and make for another charge, but their numbers were badly reduced. Small as the demon contingent was, they had inflected heavy casualties on the young Calvary unit. A small band of equestrians from the Baron's forces raced in to replace the fallen. Instinctively they placed themselves under Godfrey's lead. And again, the unit turned and made for another charge. Their lances held study and swords flashing like torches in the Sun. Will made for the edge of the battle, but felt the threat behind him. He doubted he'd be able to get away. Self-doubt; not a good thing in the thick of war. He would not abandon Godfrey yet. The demons made a counter charge. Their spears and pikes marking out both horse and rider. Both sides came together with crashing steel and splintering lances. Godfrey himself, having lost his lance, hacked and chopped at the nearest of the demons as they tried to drag him from his horse. His sword flashed back and forth, striking the creatures as they lunged at him. Fighting not only the enemy, he made desperate attempts to control his hysterical horse; its eyes wide with panic. Suddenly a small demon jumped onto the horse's neck, driving a hunting dagger deep, cutting the jugular vein. Godfrey fell hard, rolling forward off the stricken animal. The demons were at him all at once, tearing and ripping with sword and claws. The young commander took a nasty gash across his right brow. The blood quickly blinded his eye so that he had trouble seeing what was going on. Frantically he counter attacked; feeling his way in the battle. A large demon bore in on the commander. His battle-axe swinging down to finish the man. But a shadow flew into the midst if the fray, seemingly out of nowhere, sword in hand, blocking the blow. The shadow whirled and twisted. Not only was the demon that attacked Godfrey destroyed, but the others close by were sliced down as so much dried kindling. Yet the shadowy creature didn't stop. After butchering the demons that threatened Godfrey, it went off apparently to find fresh victims for its blade. Godfrey tried to see what it was that saved him, though the blood in his right eye and the dirt in the other made focusing nearly impossible. But he could hear the demonics screaming in rage. He wondered if one of the demon's had gone berserk and turned on his fellows. Whatever it was, it had the form of a man, but the energy and madness of a demon. The Baron's men came to the aid of the now un-mounted Calvary unit. Foot soldiers, young and old, drove hard into Morlyn's troops. The few remaining enemy troops gave way; retreating back to the main battle force. Will shook his head, trying to clear what seemed to be a dense fog that had settled just behind his eyes. He noticed Godfrey had been unhorsed, so he quickly brought his own mount to the young commander, urging him to take it. Godfrey was still dazed and tried to object, but the Druid would have none of it. He helped the commander up, then set off to join the foot soldiers. That was his intent, of course. But instinct seemed to take over. Will felt himself loosing touch with reality as he staggered away from, not towards, Godfrey's battle group. ~~~~~ The watcher watched, not wanting to believe what he saw. The battle raged below. He had almost been detected by the forward troops of the Baron of Saint Yves, yet was too clever for them. Slipping off to the side from their advance, he lay close to the earth, concealed by scrub oak and tall dried grasses. He felt secure, strong, and deadly. Still, he was worried by what he had just witnessed. How could he, even with his skill, withstand such fury. Most likely the shadowy creature wasn't even hunting for a particular victim. It was just out for the joy of killing. Yes, that was it. Whatever it was must have been drawn to the battlefield by the smell of the dead and dying. And what of that young officer? The watcher should know that man's name. But his mind wasn't working as it should. Something.he was supposed to remember something. Oh yes, kill the Druid. Kill the one who had taken the most precious thing in the world from him. Kill the druid.yes, it was like a mantra to him. Kill the druid. The druid had caused nothing but pain, doubt, and suffering. "Remember.you were tied down; tethered like an animal. The shadowed one.." The watcher felt a stab of guilt. For a moment his mind cleared; only for a moment. It was stupid. Shadows aren't real. That thing butchered its own kind. But it wasn't a shadow.it was.it was. The watcher couldn't remember. Only one task remained. Kill the druid. In all this confusion, it should be easy. "Will, I'm coming for you." Sir David rose from his concealment and slipped northward. ~~~~~ Morion watched the slaughter, attempting to keep her own emotions in check. She saw her valiant Knights and Calvary making charge after charge, their numbers dwindling with each assault. She watched as the archers loosed their arrows, cutting great swaths through the enemy line. And watched as the enemy fell in droves to her troops, only to be replaced by others larger and stronger than their fallen comrades. Though Morlyn's soldiers were taking a beating, it could not compare to the devastation her own people were enduring. Even her foot shoulders were taking severe losses. And she noticed her troops were falling back; being pushed by the sheer number of the enemy's forces. She stood beside Sir Robert as he directed the battle from the small hill they stood on. She could see the determination that flowed from him like a river, and knew he wanted to be in the thick of battle. Even Morgan looked like she was about to lose control and rush into the fray with little thought to her own personal safety. The slaughter could not continue, but it would until her own forces were totally decimated. Her mind was made up. She signalled to one of her bodyguards. At once he was at her side. She whispered in his ear, and though he gave her a look of doubt and wonder, he only hesitated a moment before he ran down the hill to where her and the guard's horses were kept. Morgan noticed the exchange and came over to her Lady. "My Lady, I know what you're thinking. It is suicide and will only end in the defeat of Morion and the Realm of the Dark Crystal. You can't do this." "I can and I will." Morion's tone invited no argument. "Then I'm coming with you." Morgan too left no room for discussion. The guard was back with Morion's horse and the full contingent of the Royal Guard. A man with the Royal Standard was with him. "I thought you'd want to let it be known that the Lady herself had entered the fight." He pointed to some extra mounts, having anticipated Morgan's participation in this little escapade. As the women were mounting their horses, Sir Robert screamed at them, "Where do you think you're going?! What of Sir William's plan?" Morion didn't hesitate, "To hell with the plan, my people are dying down there, and should I not suffer the same fate?" With that, she spurred her horse down the hill with her guard following. Morgan, digging her heels into her horse's flanks, plunged after her. Sir Robert stared in wonder, then mounted his own horse and rode after them. ~~~~~ Will felt sick and his skin was clammy. Something happened he could not explain. Though the possibilities nauseated him. And there was a change in the air. The tide of battle had just somehow switched, but which way, he had no clue. He wondered if it was the demon's blood that was affecting him so. He felt woozy. Though he had little time to ponder this. He had to get to Morlyn and soon. The sense of urgency was all too plain to him. He edged away from the foot soldiers to the outer parameter of the battle. The combat now raged behind him, and his only concern was what lay before. Cautiously, he moved towards the hill where Morlyn directed his forces. Skirting left, he made his way clock-wise towards his enemy; hoping to come up behind the druid undetected. William Black © Continues... Chronicle III, Main page |