Shades of the Past: The Morcyth Saga Book Six (20 page)

Concentrating now on just one of the encased
creatures, he decreases the temperature of the shield, which is
possible now with the heat of but one creature to contend with.
Also, he begins shrinking the shield in around the creature until
it is barely able to move. The outer shell of the barrier begins to
frost from the coldness within, he can feel the creature struggle
mightily to escape and increases the strength and integrity of the
shield as he continues collapsing it.

Spots begin to dance in front of his eyes
from the struggle to maintain one shield while collapsing the
other. His throat dries up and his breathing becomes labored.
Behind him, he hears a cry as one of the brothers falls in the
battle with the warrior priest, the sound of birds still fills the
air.

Now down to the size of a basketball, the
shrinking shield finally collapses completely and disappears as the
creature dies and vanishes. Turning to the remaining creature, he
begins shrinking its confining shield same as the other. This time,
with but one shield to maintain, the draw of magic isn’t nearly as
bad. Still, his inner reserves are all but depleted and the effects
upon him are becoming more pronounced.

Headaches and dizziness begin to plague him
as the remaining shield continues to implode upon itself, stealing
away the life from the creature it contains. Before it disappears,
James’ legs give out and he drops to the ground, barely catching
himself before hitting hard. Almost losing concentration, he lies
there on the ground, sending forth the last bits of magic from his
reserves as the shield shrinks to the size of a softball and then
implodes completely when the life of the creature contained within
goes out.

Panting hard, he tries to get to his feet but
simply hasn’t the strength and passes out.

Leaving James to deal with the creatures,
Brother Willim and the rest of the Hand of Asran face off with the
warrior priest. Above, the birds have answered their call and are
even now diving to distract the crossbowmen on the palisade. In the
coming fight with the warrior priest, they can’t have their
concentration divided with bolts flying at them.

As the warrior priest reaches the edge of the
flames, he glances from where James is battling the two remaining
creatures and then to Brother Willim and the Hand. Seeing them as
the most immediate threat, he turns to face them. From the flames
to his right, a veritable meteor shower of fire flies toward the
brothers.

In response, the Hand throws seeds in the air
and with the power of their god, causes them to grow exponentially.
When the meteor shower encounters the tendrils of life, their heat
is absorbed by them and few make it as far as where the brothers
stand. The few that do are easily avoided.

Ash from the burnt tendrils of life float
upon the breeze as vines erupt from the ground under the warrior
priest’s feet. Twining and twisting, they quickly bind him in a
tangle of thick vegetation.

Another brother throws a dark resin which
expands greatly into a three foot wide viscous mass which strikes
the warrior priest and encases him from the chest up in a sticky,
gooey substance.

Taking up their staves, they begin moving
toward the entrapped warrior priest.

Bam!

An explosion knocks them backward as the
vines and gooey substance is blasted away from him. At the same
time, a black miasmic cloud forms before the warrior priest and
flows toward them.

Brother Willim raises his hand and a breeze
develops to blow the dark cloud away but has no effect. The brother
next to him throws a batch of seeds at the black cloud. On their
way, the seeds blossom into bright yellow flowers and when they
encounter the black cloud, absorb the darkness into them. Turning
black, the flowers drop to the ground where they wither and
die.

Two brothers have closed with the warrior
priest and are laying upon him with their staves. His sword is out
and easily blocks their attacks. A swarm of gnats appear in summons
to one of the brothers and immediately moves to the warrior priest.
They cloud his face and begin working their way into his armor.

Deflecting the staves, the warrior priest
seems unaffected by the insects swarming him and crawling within
his armor. Suddenly the ground again sprouts vines which work to
entangle his legs. Between blows to deflect the staves, his sword
strikes down and cuts away the vines holding him.

“Too long has your kind walked the earth,”
Brother Willim says. “Death is your hallmark.”

Around the warrior priest, dozens of dark
spheres appear. They begin zooming in and around him as they fly
toward the brothers. Each one emits a small burst of energy when
they draw near his enemies causing a red welt.

Brother Willim calls out in the language of
his god and butterflies fill the air. Giant red and green
butterflies begin targeting the black spheres. As each comes into
contact with one of the spheres, both the sphere and the butterfly
disappear until only a couple butterflies are left.

“Long have we been training to take down one
such as you,” Brother Willim says. “Our brethren have fallen to
yours for far too long. No longer!” He raises his hands to the sky
and says, “Now, feel the wrath of the Hand of Asran!”

The staffers fighting him begin to glow with
a greenish light as the power of their god infuses them. Striking
out, the warrior priest gets inside the guard of one and runs him
through, eliciting a cry as the man falls away only to be replaced
by another.

Again, the ground beneath the warrior priest
opens up. This time however, instead of the minor vines from
before, these are likened to roots of an old oak tree. Thick,
strong and massive, these grasp him in a vice-like grip that
quickly immobilizes him. Striking down with his sword, the blade
does little more than knick the outer bark.

Legs encased and immobile, his defensive
capability is now drastically reduced. Blows from the two staffers
land upon him more frequently and with increasing force.

Bam!

An outward explosion attempts to remove the
vines from him but only succeeds in loosening them for a brief
moment before they tighten once more.

A bright light is suddenly among them as Miko
comes with the Star of Morcyth ablaze in his hand. Kneeling down
beside the fallen priest of Asran, he begins healing his wound.

Whack!

The end of a staff strikes the warrior priest
in the forehead and knocks the helm from his head.

Whack!

A strike to his hand causes his sword to fly
through the air.

Whack!

Blood begins to flow from his nose as a staff
takes him across the face.

“Now, we finish it!” cries Brother
Willim.

The staffers back away from the warrior
priest as Brother Willim calls upon his god. The roots holding the
warrior priest begin writhing as a cry escapes the man’s throat.
With a rip and a tear, the roots pull the warrior priest apart as
arms and legs come away from the body. One long root wraps itself
around the neck and with a quick pull, the head comes away.

As the roots drag the dismembered body of the
warrior priest into the ground, a malignant presence can be felt as
if some evil spirit walks the battlefield, then is gone. When the
last of the warrior priest has been dragged beneath the surface,
Brother Willim and the others relax. The flock of birds which had
come to their aid begins to disperse as well and men are once again
upon the walls.

Coming to his fallen brother, he asks Miko,
“Will he live?”

Looking up at him, Miko nods. “Yes. He will
need rest for a day or two but he should be alright.”

“Praise Asran,” one of the brothers says.

Over where James passed out, Jiron has
already appeared and is removing him to a place of safety.

A crossbow bolt strikes the ground nearby and
Miko who says, “We better get out of here. The battle isn’t over
yet.”

Just then, the gates to the palisade open and
the army issues forth with a roar.

Miko mounts his horse and they hand the
injured brother up to him. “Get back behind the line of staffs,” he
tells them. Turning his horse toward Lythylla, he bolts into a
gallop holding tightly onto the injured brother before him.

Brother Willim and the others begin running
toward where Illan and the rest are preparing to meet the onslaught
of the enemy. As the Hand reaches their lines, Illan says, “Good
work there.” Brother Willim simply nods his head as he and the
other brothers follow Miko on into Lythylla to see about their
comrade.

Jiron, leading the horse bearing James, moves
through the defenders as they part for him. He soon passes the
Brothers and crosses over the bridge into the city. Off to one side
of the gates, a soldier waves to him and indicates a nearby
guardhouse beside which Miko’s horse stands tied to a post. Henri
is there and takes his reins as he pulls up alongside Miko’s
horse.

“Is he alive?” Henri asks, referring to the
unconscious James.

“Yes,” replies Jiron. “He gets like this
every time he does too much magic.”

Henri helps him remove James from the horse
and together they bring him into the guardhouse. The injured
brother is already laid out upon blankets on the floor, a pack has
been placed under his head for comfort.

Madoc healers are there and have already
begun examining the brother. They place James on a blanket next to
him. Jiron takes Miko by the arm and says, “We have to get back to
the others.”

“Yes, you’re right,” he says. Then to one of
the healers he adds, “Take care of them.”

“They’ll be fine,” the grey haired healer
says. “You go do what you have to.”

As Jiron and Miko leave the guardhouse,
Brother Willim and the rest of the Hand arrive and pass them on
their way into the guardhouse. “I think they are in good hands,”
says Jiron.

“Me too,” agrees Miko.

They mount their horses and turn them toward
the gate. Jiron pauses but a moment when Lord Pytherian catches his
eye from where he’s keeping watch on the battle from atop the gate.
Nodding to Jiron, he then turns back to the battlefield. The
courtyard is filled with every available man, as are the streets
leading deeper into the city. The whole Alliance army is waiting
for the word to go. It was decided to keep the bulk of their forces
within the walls in the hopes of fooling the enemy into launching
an attack. If they but knew how many awaited them, they would never
leave the relative safety of the palisade.

Returning through the gate at a gallop, they
head back to their comrades who are about to face the brunt of the
Empire army. Jiron sees the soldiers of the Empire are forming
ranks this side of the palisade as more and more stream through the
gate.
Guess they’re not going to wait for us to attack.

Out in front of their force, the crossbowmen
take position as they prepare to rain down a volley of death upon
them. Jiron recognizes the army commander that was with the warrior
priest when he and James had gone for the initial meeting before
all the hostilities erupted. The man must think now would be his
best chance at success seeing as how James has collapsed and one of
the priests of Asran is down.

“Delia,” Illan says. “Are your people
ready?”

“As ready as they’re ever going to be,” she
says. To her slingers she says, “Wait for my signal before you
remove anything from your pouch!”

“Yes ma’am,” Orrin’s voice answers from his
position down the line.

Illan turns to Ceadric and says, “They’ll
want to take out the catapults first. Be prepared.”

“Aye sir,” he says.

A hush falls over the battlefield as the
final men make their way through the palisade and take position.
They are outnumbered seven to one, Black Hawk’s Raiders number
somewhere near a thousand while the Empire’s force appears to be at
least seven or eight thousand strong. The initial numbers they had
of the enemy may have been off.

None of the enemy cavalry has yet taken the
field. Illan nods to Jiron as he retakes his position at the head
of his men. “Cavalry not coming?” Jiron asks.

Illan nods to the two ends of the palisade
far in the distance. “My guess would be for them to make an end run
around the far side of the wall once the battle begins.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says.

Illan turns to the officer in charge of the
catapults. “Give them a volley.”

“Yes, sir,” he replies. Turning to his men he
hollers, “Let em go boys!”

As one, the five catapults are loosed and
their deadly projectiles are thrown toward the massed men before
them. The five boulders fly through the air and come to land in the
midst of the soldiers. Most are able to dodge out of the way but
two are struck by the rocks after they hit the ground and begin to
roll.

“Not very effective against ground troops,”
comments Ceadric. “Need grapeshot.”

Just then, they hear a command shouted by the
enemy commander and horns begin to sound.

“True,” replies Illan. “Hadn’t planned on
using them against troops, just the walls.”

The enemy crossbowmen move forward and raise
their crossbows. At another command, hundreds of bolts are loosed
and fly toward them. “Raise the shields,” cries Jiron as he and the
others raise shields to protect themselves as well as Delia and her
slingers from the barrage.

As the bolts reach the apex of their arc and
begin descending down toward them, the three crystals atop the
staves James had planted in the ground flare. A shimmering field
springs to life between them and extends above the staves at least
thirty feet. Most of the bolts are deflected away. Some soar high
enough to go over the top of the field but are easily brushed aside
with shields.