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Chapter 17, Chronicle III - Knight and Pawn By William Black Will moved quickly towards where his one-time Master stood directing his demon hoards. At least his mind told him he was moving quickly. Everything seemed to be so confused. But his prey was in sight, and nothing would now stand in his way of achieving his purpose. Small groves of scrub oak among outcroppings of stone covered his movements. Moving forward, his thoughts kept drifting back to Morion. It took considerable effort to dismiss the thoughts with out so much as a real acknowledgement. He didn't want to put Morion at more risk than she already was because his heart and thoughts were straying in her direction. Morlyn would detect such feelings easily. Then the game would be up. Though his heart did long for her. It seemed like ages since he last talked to her, and his desire for her was growing. Damn! His heart betrayed him again. Suddenly Will ducked behind a large boulder and stopped. Holding his breath he cleared his mind. There was nothing but the dusty ground, and the rock pressing hard into his back, and the sounds of battle. Only instinct remained. He was the rock. He was the dust of the ground. He allowed himself to breath again.... He was the very air he breathed. For an instant, the merest sliver of time, he opened his mind and reached out. Morlyn was still directing the battle from where Will had last seen him. This he could sense clearly. But something was different. No, two things. Someone or some thing had joined Morlyn. And a shadowy voice had entered Will's mind. "I'm coming for you, damn Druid." Will smiled sadly. What or who had joined his old mentor? A variable he had not expected had entered the game. For he, like his Master, had come to believe that this was all that mattered in this battle. The Game. Awful in its carnage, but played with all the determination of two chess Grand Masters. For Will, it was to save those he loved. And to save those lives he had to hurry and destroy the one that taught him most of what he knew of life, science, and magic. Will started out again, continuing his clockwise course. Periodically he risked reaching out to touch the perimeters of Morlyn's aura. Whoever it was that had joined his old master was moving off. Will reminded himself that he was using natural cunning and intuition to feel his way. His magic long put behind him. He increased his pace. He had to reach Morlyn quickly. Too many were dying on both sides, so the sooner he destroyed Morlyn the better. He forced doubts away. He would succeed. Yet whatever followed him grew closer too. It appeared to be a race of sorts. Who would reach who first. Again the shadowy voice, but this time nearer, "I'm coming for you, damn Druid. I will destroy you." Will kept moving. The sounds of battle in the valley below seemed muted and surrealist. Like the wailing of ghosts; unseen yet trapped in an eternal struggle between the pages of life and death. He finally reached a stone outcropping right behind where Morlyn stood higher up on the hill. Will looked at his old master, the druid's robes bellowing out like the wings of a giant bat. Recognition flooded Will's mind, but he did not acknowledge the thought. He kept his mind quiet. More now then ever, he had to be one with his surroundings. Confirmation of his skill came from a whispered voice..."Where?" It seemed confused and disoriented. Will took a deep breath and calmed himself further. He focused on each member of his body, making sure his whole being was ready for what was to come. It was time. ~~~~~ Morion spurred her horse down the hill; the Royal Guard following. Morgan, Sir Robert, and the Standard Bearer were close by her side. Those nearest to where Morion led the charge down the hill sounded their war horns. Those who could, turned to see what was happening. Both foot and mounted soldiers started shouting at the top of their lungs, "Morion! Morion!". The cry rolled like a mighty wave across the battlefield. The shout engendering new strength and courage in Morion's forces. The effect was immediate and explosive. "Morion! Morion!" Renewed hope surged through the battle field like lightening. "Morion! Morion!" The battle cry sounded louder, until the entire valley echoed with the sound of her name. For the first time in the throws of battle, it appeared the demon hoards were on the defensive. They stumbled back from the onslaught; hacking madly at anything in their way. Smaller demons were trampled without thought or pity by larger lumbering monster spawn. And still the forces of Morion pushed forward. Morion herself spearheaded the charge through a large contingent of demons, trying to split the legion in two. Morgan and Robert protected their Lady's flank from the demon surge. Screams of hatred and pain filled the air. The stench of death was thick, but nothing detracted from the killing. Morion and Morgan were like two furies; their hair and robes flowing wildly behind them. With a cry of satisfaction, Morion charged into another rank of demons, her sword a deadly blur. It rang like a tuning fork as she deflected strikes against her. One demon after another fell to her steel. Those she only wounded were dispatched by Morgan, who was just behind her. And Morgan found her own marks, hacking her way through a thicket of demon blades. The enemy could not comprehend the attack, nor stem death's tide. The legion splintered into smaller groups. Sir Robert led a small command into one; his men's swords stained black with blood. Demons fell before them. The battle cry of "Morion, Morion" grew steadily louder. ~~~~~ The day was growing late and cold as Morlyn stood with his staff raised, insane with raged that the battle had turned. It wasn't the distant sound of thunder that, just for an instant, made him shudder with doubt. The rumbling battle-cry of Morion's troops was unnerving him. "Run, will they! Cowards all!" He shouted malevolently, sending magical fire slamming into those running from the devastation. Their bodies instantly becoming living torches. Gasps of dread and anguish barely escaped their months before they fell, smoking heaps of scorched flesh, to the ground. Those running behind them looked to where the flames had come from. They immediately hesitated in their retreat; stumbling blindly into one another. Morlyn unleashed more Druid flame into the confused creatures below him. Hundreds fell charred and ruined. Those who saw what happened thought better of their own retreat and turned en masse, renewing their struggle against Morion's forces. Morlyn smiled, without humour or joy. His eyes narrowed. He sensed something wasn't right. Just then an arrow sliced past his left arm. He whipped around sending flame at his unseen attacker. But his assailant wasn't there. Morlyn looked to his right, then left; Demon's fire following his gaze. Suddenly, inexplicably, he laughed. A hearty, almost friendly laugh. "My dear, dear boy. Where are you? Oh, but it does you no honour to shoot an old man in the back. And the aim. By the Three Rays, what's happened to your legendary warrior's skill?" A calm cool voice replied, "It is not in my nature to shoot a man in the back. Had I wanted you dead, we'd not be having this little chat." "Come now," Morlyn chortled, "You are no longer that noble boy who left my tutelage so many years ago. Nor are you without sin. I know you. I know WHAT you are!" "Look," and here Morlyn pointed to the battle below, "You've led your beloved into her last moments of life. Oh, and so unfortunate, for I wanted her. Now she'll be too broken even for that." Will didn't look. Nor was he ready to reveal himself just yet. Doubts assailed him. It had been so clear up to this point. But now that it came to it, he's plan faltered. He had no idea how he was going to kill his old mentor without magic or getting himself killed. Morlyn had the high ground. One false move and Druid flame would be all over him. A fractional misstep would reveal his hiding place. Still, his bow was strung. He closed his eyes and mouthed a silent prayer. Even with eyes closed he saw the lightning's brightness. He counted down the seconds, and then heard the rumble of thunder. Four miles...the storm was approaching quickly. He was running out of time. The demons would have great advantage on the wet battlefield. Will steadied himself; no more doubt. No more thinking. He took a deep breath, and with a shout, "Morion, Morion!", he launched himself at his old enemy. He took aim, but dodged at the last moment. Morlyn's magic erupted wickedly from his staff . Will tumbled backwards, slipping while trying to regain his footing. Morlyn answered with more demon's fire. "Morion, Morion!" he mocked in a sing-songy voice. Will rolled, took a knee, and loosed an arrow. The shot went wild. "And to think, you were once renowned as a great archer. You have become weak through your tree hugging philosophies. You've remembered nothing of what I taught you. It would be impossible for me to despise anything more than what you have become." Morlyn let loose more flame; hotter than before. Will dodged again. And readied another arrow as he rolled behind the outcropping of stone. Will knew Morlyn was trying to force him into answering with magic. But Will would not give into the temptation. Fire smashed into the boulders, shattering the rock. Will smiled. His mentor was spending himself. Risking yet another attack, Will leapt out from under cover, twisted in mid-air letting another arrow fly. The dart creased his Master's cheek, sending Morlyn into an insane rage. Will barely reached another outcropping of stone before the whole mound burst into flame. The acrid smell of singed hair and clothing filled his nostrils. He felt his skin blister with the intense heat. "Come now, you putrid fool. Stand and meet death as bravely as your Lady." screamed Morlyn. Will remained hidden behind the smouldering boulders; his eyes tightly shut against the pain. "My Lady has not met death, but when she does, she'll be bravery itself." "So," choked Morlyn angrily, "You are disposed to death, are you?" You make me vomit. I'll not waste more time on you!" With that Morlyn let out a horrid screeching call. To Will's surprise, the call was answered immediately by a throaty grunt. He might have missed the sound all together for the rumble of the thunder now coming in rapid succession, but he recognised the sound. He had once before faced a creature like the one he just heard. It had infected him. Will knew what to expect. The beast was naked and had thick leather-like skin. Its claws extended from powerful paws, yet it walked like a man. Its mouth gaped open showing double rows of dagger like teeth. So, this is what had been with Morlyn earlier. It was a kind of body guard should the battle not go as Morlyn predicted. This meant that Morlyn himself had doubts. A shot of pain burst across Will's scorched face as a slight smile creased his lips. He felt, more than knew, all was in place. Leaving his bow, but with dagger in hand, he leapt from his hiding place. Morlyn unleashed bolts of flame at Will. The monolithic creature also charged at the Knight, claws slashing wildly in a frantic attempt to reach his prey. Will dodged flame and claw, sweeping his dagger up against one of the creature's arms. Tar-like blood oozed out of the wound, but the beast countered, knocking Will sideways to the ground. Dizzying lights danced in Will's head as he struggled back to his feet fighting against the pain. He clumsily sidestepped another attack from the demon, only to stumble against the smoking outcropping he had just been hiding behind. Another ball of flame blasted away at the rocks, barely missing the demon who had launched himself at the Druid. The creature itself was forced to dodge yet another fire-ball as Morlyn laughed maniacally, continuing to hurl spheres of flame at Will just for sport. William Black © Continues... Chronicle III, Main page |