Destruction of a God Page 8

  Gwena lay back and closed her eyes; she snored once and then sat up quickly, her eyes wide with surprise. She stood up and peered at Primero, before asking, “What did you do?”

  Primero grinned toothily and replied, “It was merely a spell that enabled your body to get a full night’s sleep in the blink of an eye.”

  Gwena smiled and replied, “You’ll have to teach me that one.”

  Primero nodded and answered, “When we have the time daughter of Bray.” He then turned to watch his parents allow Tal to float gently to the floor.

  As the dark skinned Duke of Sarn felt the warm earth beneath him, he opened his eyes and sat up. Wiping them groggily, he glanced around and murmured, “It feels like I’ve been sleeping for a month.”

  Swarim bobbed his head once and then in his deep rumbling voice said, “It is good to see that you’re well, but we must fly to Velumia. You and Lady Gwena may ride upon Ratora. Sgt Benib and Sect Commander Benib shall fly with me. Primero is larger than the two of us, so he will take the remainder of your troops.”

  Tal glanced up at the black-scaled head of Swarim uncertainly, but sensing the truth in his words, moved across to Gwena who was standing next to Ratora. The gigantic golden Dragon lowered herself so that her knees were bent, allowing the two warriors to use her thigh as a step to get onto her long lithe back. Gwena clambered up first and slid along Ratora’s back until her legs dangled either side of the Dragon’s sinewy neck. She then spun around to watch Tal climb up next to her. Once the two of them were comfortable, Ratora glanced across at Swarim.

  As Ben and Maerk were sitting astride Swarim, the last of the troops from Sarn clambered onto Primero’s massive shoulders. When they had a tight enough grip so that they would not fall, Swarim bobbed his head to the two Nunnupi Generals, who were preparing to ride back to Tamlin and said, “Thank you for your help my friends. We must go now; King Bazil and Queen Kayla need our help.”

  Tavin bobbed his head in a half bow and replied, “Go with our blessings Swarim,” he then grinned and continued, “If you see our great and illustrious leader, King LilPeg, can you tell him we are travelling to Url to get Queen Kerril and his child.” He then glanced at Tal and said, “We’ll look after your horses, it seems as if they need the rest. With this, he climbed into his saddle and led the Nunnupi back into Tamlin. As he rode onto the stony track, which led to the city gates, he turned and called to Swarim, “Save Bazil and bring peace back to our land.”

  Swarim nodded once and then without further comment bunched his mighty muscles and leapt into the air. Without looking down, he sped towards a distant cloudbank, with Primero and Ratora streaking behind him. As they soared high into the sky, the warriors from Sarn clung to their unorthodox steeds with all their might, terror keeping them flat against the mighty Dragons’ backs.

  As they approached the thick, cotton like clouds, the mounted warriors began to shiver against the biting cold, as the air froze on their clothes. After a while, Swarim spoke out in a strange echoing voice. “Fenelum,” he called.

  Suddenly, the cloud in front of them began shifting to form a rectangle. The air inside the shape darkened and formed a swirling pool inside the cloud frame, which Gwena immediately recognised as a gateway. As the hurtling Dragons neared the rectangle, the light inside began to brighten. Suddenly the air inside the gateway cleared and Tal could see blue sky on the other side.

  He held onto Ratora tighter with his knees and pulled his arms around himself trying in a vain attempt to warm himself. He watched as Swarim disappeared through the rectangular frame of cloud and braced himself against the fear he felt as Ratora careered after him. Sensing his unease, Gwena glanced back at Tal, sending a comforting smile to him, trying to instil him with a confidence that she did not feel.

  The Dragons blasted through the frame of cloud and were through it before Tal could blink. Gwena glanced back and watched as Primero sped through the rectangular gate. As soon, as he had cleared it, the clouds spun quickly and then reformed into a thick carpet, which gave no hint that seconds before it had been a gateway. Tal risked a glance below and sat back reeling at the huge drop.

  Gwena chuckled gently and then she also had a look. Being more used to such strange events, the drop did not have the same effect on her. She held on tightly to Ratora’s beautiful, golden neck and peered through the thick clouds below.

  Gwena raised herself into a sitting position and turned to Tal, who was lying flat against Ratora’s back; frantically whispering as many prayers as he could remember. She smiled and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder as she said, “Velumia is below. In less than a minute, the Dragons have travelled the same distance as it would take for a horse to cover in four weeks.”

  In a terrified voice Tal called, over the roaring wind, “That’s fantastic, but tell me when my feet are on the floor.”

  Gwena chuckled and went silent, thoroughly enjoying the magical flight, as Tal continued to mutter panic-stricken chants behind her. As Gwena took in the view, Ratora dropped in an arcing swoop after Swarim, who was almost at the gates of the city. Gwena kept her eyes wide, as Ratora’s dive sped up, revelling in the excitement of the moment. Ratora dropped like a stone for a thousand feet, before coming to a sudden halt four feet from the ground, forcing an involuntary scream of terror from Tal’s lips. Glancing across at Swarim, Ratora landed lightly on the moor to the east of the River Vel, which surrounded Velumia with the grace of a ballet dancer. The two mighty Dragons glanced at the city, as their larger and much heavier son thudded to the floor, causing the ground to shake; such was his weight.

  A lone rider moved from the city towards them, as the soldiers from Sarn clambered off the huge Dragons. The fancily dressed messenger in his blue livery pulled up short of the two Dragons and swept his feathered helmet from his head, as he grandly announced, “Hello honoured guests, King Bazil extends his heartiest welcome.”

  Swarim dropped his head and asked, “Is the King well then.”

  At this, the messenger became slightly flustered and replied, “Uh no my Lord Dragon, he still lies abed. However, since Duke Ramilo and Colonel Avery locked the Prince in his room, his Captain Posendre rules as regent.”

  At the sound of Posendre’s name, Tal perked up. He stepped forward and growled, “Stop flapping your gums and show us in.”

  The messenger stared flatly at Tal for a second and then he recognised the Duke of Sarn. “Sorry my Lord, of course, follow me.” With this, the rider turned his horse and after making sure that his guests were following, trotted back towards the city.

  Tal nodded to Ben and followed the flamboyant messenger. As they neared the gates, the three Dragons rose into the air and flew over the north wall. The portcullis immediately rose and Tal and his troops followed the messenger into the city. As they passed the thick walled guardroom, and on into the courtyard beyond, Tal saw that Posendre was already in conversation with the Dragons. “Why did you not just land in the city?” he heard her say.

  Ratora lowered her head and replied, “We had to be sure of the situation.”

  Posendre was about to answer, but she saw the bedraggled figure of Tal march into the courtyard. With a squeal of delight, which she would later regret, she sprinted towards him and grabbed him in a loving embrace, before planting a passionate kiss on his lips. After Tal had managed to untangle himself from his lover’s strong embrace and shot an embarrassed but warning look at Ben not to say anything, he said, “So you’re in charge here my darling.”

  Posendre shook her head and then sarcastically replied, “No my dear, if you have not noticed I’m a mere Captain, you’re a Duke of the realm and with the Royal family being indisposed that makes you the highest rank in the capital city.” She then winked at Ben and continued, “So temporarily you rule Anlam.” She then bowed extravagantly and in a tone dripping with honeyed sarcasm added, “My liege.”

  This last comment even drew a chuckle from the honour bound Swarim. Tal narrowed his eyes at Posendre
as she stuck out her tongue in his direction. He ignored her, trying to shut his ears to the loud guffaws coming from Ben, and looked up at the tower. He then glanced across at Primero and asked, “How are you going to fit inside the palace?”

  The young Dragon winked and replied, “Just you wait.”

  At this Ratora, lumbered forward and asked, “Posendre, can you spare me some clothes?”

  Posendre stared at the huge Dragon in surprise and replied, “Of course I can Ratora, but what would you want with my clothes?”

  In her gentle voice, Ratora replied, “Please get them my Dear.”

  As Posendre raced to the palace to get her pack, Swarim asked the same question of Ben. The Sect Commander pulled his rucksack from his back without question and dug out his spare tunic and trousers. He tossed them at the huge black Dragon, who caught the clothes in his mouth. Posendre came sprinting from the alley, which led to the palace, as Tal asked Primero, “Do you not want any clothes?”

  With a mischievous glint in his eye, Primero replied, “Nobody here is big enough to give me their clothes.”

  Posendre handed the clothes she was holding up to Ratora, who took them in her mouth and gently pulled them from her. The two Dragons then glanced around the courtyard.

  Their eyes alighted on the exercise yard at the back of the guardroom and they moved towards it. The blue armoured Palace Guard standing by the gate, unlocked it for them and they moved inside. The guard continued to watch them as they moved out of sight and then his eyes grew wide in shock, as a bright light began shining from the yard. Within seconds, the light had dimmed and Tal was left waiting impatiently to see what had happened. Suddenly, two tall warriors strode from the yard; both were beautiful, almost supernaturally so. The woman was blonde with the most athletic body Tal had ever seen, but her eyes were yellow, oddly alien in appearance. Posendre slapped him gently and murmured, “Stop ogling her, you will burn a hole through her.”

  Tal was about to protest his innocence, but remained silent as he saw the smile on Posendre’s face. He turned back to face the beautiful woman and noticed that her partner was even taller than she; he was as tall as Tal, but broader, with skin as dark as polished oak; this, and the fact that Tal’s clothes were far too small, showed off every rippling muscle in his body.

  Tal was surprised slightly, as he heard Ratora’s voice coming from the beautiful blonde woman’s mouth. “Let’s go and save the King and Queen of Anlam,” she said.

  The Last Fight of our Time

  Suddenly the gigantic enemy Cavalry Captain held up his hand and shouted, “Halt!” He then leant forward and asked, “Colonel Avery of the Anlam Cavalry, why do you prepare for battle? It is I, Itchito. Have we not been allies for this long year?”

  Avery paused briefly and then spotting an opportunity, loudly declared, “Stand down, it’s just our friends from Prince Artir’s army!”

  Ramilo glanced curiously at Avery, not sure what he was playing at. Avery winked and whispered, “We‘re outnumbered. This way, we can think of a way to defeat them without killing too many of our troops.”

  At this, Ramilo relaxed his grip on his sword and placed it back in its scabbard. The remainder of the Royal guard watched him carry out this simple drill and followed suit. As Ramilo’s troops put away their weapons, the enemy Captain slid from his horse and moved towards Avery. He halted when he saw Ramilo and asked Avery, “Who is your friend?”

  Thinking quickly, Avery gestured towards Ramilo and replied, “His name is Garit; he’s a mercenary from the north. Knowing that his kinfolk served Prince Artir as the Royal guard, he travelled to Velumia to pledge his sword.”

  The huge Captain drew a deep breath, which echoed inside his silver helmet and said, “It is good that the humans realise the futility of fighting us.”

  Ramilo bristled at this comment, but remained silent as Avery asked, “Where were you heading Itchito?”

  The large silver-armoured warrior sighed and pulled his helmet from his head, exposing his bulbous misshapen face. He glared at Ramilo, narrowing his snake-like eyes as he did and said, “We were on our way to the north of this forsaken land. Half-sized devils that you call Dwarves keep killing our patrols.”

  Pausing briefly, he shook his leathery head and continued, “We stopped to enjoy the hunt.” With regret in his yellow eyes he said, “The villagers we appointed as prey managed to get away, because one of our scouts found us and told us to make haste towards Antia. An army of humans and others are attacking our fine forces. This is where we were going.”

  Manil growled lowly, as he heard the enemy warrior talking so freely about hunting humans, but Muru placed a hand gently on his arm. The tattooed warrior shook his head slowly and whispered, “Not yet.”

  Manil stopped growling but kept watching the enemy soldiers in the woods as they set up camp, looking for any sign of weakness. The troll glanced at the sky and saw that evening was drawing in, so moved across to where Lin-Te and Te-Che were lighting a fire. Sitting down, he bobbed his head towards the enemy and asked, “What we’s gonna do bout dem?”

  Ramilo moved across to them, as the enemy Captain re-joined his troops in the trees and murmured, “Keep watching. We’ll get our opportunity.”

  As the night grew darker, the companions kept watching the enemy. Towards midnight, Muru crept towards their camp; he could hear them discussing something. They seemed to be arguing. Settling himself in a copse of trees a little way from the enemy’s camp, he heard one of the enemy say, “Let’s just kill them now. They are of no use to us and we can enjoy a few of them over a barbeque.”

  The captain stood up and growled, “We may still need them. There are enemy troops all over this forsaken land and unfortunately, we are outnumbered. Let us keep them on side until we have won and then we can set our barbeque. Be patient my friends and keep in mind the feast we will have when we are triumphant.”

  Muru felt a shiver of revulsion trace its way down his spine as he heard the dreadful words come from the enemy Captain. Just then, he noticed a movement to his right. Turning towards it, he saw a number of shadowy figures moving through the trees. He turned to make his way back to his companions, but a strong arm grabbed him from behind. He was about to call out but a hand pressed itself over his mouth. He struggled briefly, his immense strength quickly freeing him from the restraining grip. He grabbed the arm and pulled its owner over his shoulder. Drawing back his arm to punch his assailant, he stopped when he saw that it was Omni.

  The Dwarf grinned and then placed a finger across his lips and nodded towards the enemy camp. Muru stepped back, allowing Omni to get to his feet. Without warning, the dark Dwarven figures leapt from the shadows and attacked the silver-armoured enemy soldiers. Muru growled, “Yes,” as the flickering firelight revealed Obli and a large force of Dwarves cutting a swathe through the enemy camp, before charging into the fray.

  The Dwarven second in command rushed forward and leapt at the enemy Captain, as he rose to his feet. Obli drew back his axe and as he flew through the air hacked savagely at the enemy leader. The axe bit cleanly, severing the silver-armoured warrior’s bulbous head from his shoulders.

  Omni tapped Muru on the shoulder and bobbed his head towards the trees on the other side of the track, on which the Royal guard were camping. Muru glanced across and smiled when he saw Peg lead a combined force of Dwarves and Nunnupi into the other enemy camp. The battle was fast but furious; the enemy did not stand a chance.

  As the sound of battle echoed around the forest, the Royal guard and Anlam Cavalry leapt to their feet, drawing their weapons. After a quick discussion, Avery took his cavalry to help Obli, and Ramilo led the Royal guard across to the Nunnupi.

  As he charged through the trees, Te-Che ducked under an enemy sword and rolled to his right. Bringing his own blade to bare, he flicked it towards his opponent in a fake and then, as the enemy warrior moved to the left, sent a vicious right cross into his throat. The large warrior clasped his throat, unable to breath
and tumbled forward, as Te-Che stabbed him through the chest.

  Ramilo raced towards Peg, who was standing back to back with Hilum. He leapt high, sending his right leg in a deadly arc, which caught an enemy soldier under his chin. The silver-armoured warrior’s head snapped back under the force of the blow and his body followed, sending him somersaulting backwards. Ramilo landed lightly and quickly slashed his blade left then right. His sword sliced through two enemy warriors, killing them instantly.

  He spun to his left and saw Manil holding two silver-armoured soldiers, one in each hand. He heaved his mighty shoulders and smashed the two enemy soldier’s heads together, crushing their helmeted heads.

  Pulling his war hammer from his back, he swung it around and with a fearsome roar sent it thundering into three warriors, who were trying to surround Peg. The heavy weapon crushed the three men, driving their last breaths from them in a loud sigh.

  As the three enemy soldiers crashed to the floor, it was obvious to everyone that the fight was over; every enemy soldier was dead and Peg was moving towards Ramilo with a huge grin on his face. The short, pot-bellied Nunnupi held out his hand and clasped Ramilo’s in it. He then pumped it vigorously as he said, “It is great to see you my friend.”

  Ramilo recovered his composure and asked, “How did you find us?”

  Peg nodded to the other side of the track, making Ramilo look in the same direction. Comprehension dawned on Ramilo’s face, as Muru and Omni strolled from the forest’s shadows with the remainder of the Dwarven Company behind them.

  Obli pulled a hunting horn from his belt and blew on it; he then placed the instrument away and joined Omni, as Hilum rushed to join them. The Dwarven third in command threw up a hasty salute and then looked slightly alarmed, as Omni grabbed him in a fierce hug. The Dwarven leader released Hilum and growled, “You did well boy.”

  Peg looked a little taken aback by the show of affection and was about to speak, but was silenced as Obli leant across to him and whispered, “Hilum is his son.”