Shadow of Hope (2 page)

     Aidan jumped, and turned at full attention along the path of Daeron’s gaze. “My apolo-”

     Daeron smacked Aidan in the arm. “Gotcha, brother.”

     Aidan let lose a yelp of mock frustration. “It is you who is to be had, brother! And I by no means intend to have you as pleasantly as I had Cecilia a fortnight ago!”

     Daeron saw it coming, but the elder brother was so fast he couldn’t avoid it. Aidan lunged, wrapping his arms around him and dragging him to the ground, careful to avoid the copse behind which Gaia had secreted the urn. The impact took the wind out of Daeron. Aidan started scrubbing Daeron’s now uncovered head with his knuckles. “Ow! Quarter, brother, I pray you! Quarter!”

     Aidan laughed a deep laugh, his belly rumbling. “The mighty son of Gaia screams for quarter! What manner of-”

     “
What fool’s fracas is this?
” The thunderous female voice stopped them dead in their tracks. Both men jumped to their feet and turned, dusting their robes off. Before them stood a full figured, stout woman with long dark hair.

     Aidan lowered his head. “Apologies, Mother. Sometimes the younger ones get restless on Watch-”  

     Gaia’s stern eyes moved from one to the other. Daeron flinched under her intense gaze. “Is this how my hand chosen warriors behave? War is
not
a game! Nor do ‘warriors’ frolic like adolescent women in fields of lilies! Even in mock combat there should
always
be fear of death!”

     Now Daeron lowered his head. “Mother, I am deeply sorry. As Aidan said-”

     He heard the sound of steel on leather. He looked over at Aidan, who now had dagger in hand, alarmed by his sudden action. “What is it, Aidan? Where is the enemy?”

     Aidan spat on the ground before Gaia. “Right in front of us. Watch yourself.
Whatever
this woman is, she is
no
mother.”

     Surprise flooded Daeron like a mighty hammer fell by a fearsome warrior. “Aidan, what do you mea-”

     Before he could give full utterance to his confusion, a sharp pain penetrated his throat. His eyes glanced down, his head refusing to follow. A slender shaft, feathered with ornate plume, extended from the base of his throat. He struggled to speak, but nothing more than wet gurgling sounds ensued. Daeron fell to the ground, his head turned to the side. He saw Aidan cry out, reversing the grip on his blade, cradling it along the inside of his forearm.

     The faux Gaia
laughed the tones deep and resonant. Much deeper than any female could manage, the sound far more coarse than Mother’s soothing tones. The fake Gaia looked straight at Aidan. “Well spotted, stout warrior. I should be proud to call you my son, but my warriors have already been chosen, and your knee seems less inclined to bend to a staff than to a pit. More’s the pity.”

     Daeron noticed a subtle shift of light, and the woman was no more, replaced instead by a tall man with jet black hair and dark eyes. A pale charger burst through the man, with seemingly no effect on him, mounted by a knight adorned in white plated armor and silver mail. The knight bore on his left arm a shield almost as big as a small child, and in his right hand an ornamental sword
made of steel, twice the length of his own arm.

     His battle implements
carried with almost effortless grace, his crest a large red cross.    

     Daeron watched as Aidan shifted his stance to meet the charging knight. The knight rushed him full on, raising his sword a few feet before he came on Aidan and launching it like a massive projectile. Daeron could tell Aidan never saw it coming. The tip of the sword entered Aidan’s skull, runn
ing almost cleanly through, stopping just shy of the cross guard. Blood sprayed the grass under Aidan as his body crumpled to the ground, lifeless. The exposed portion of blade dripped with brain matter.

     Several others joined the knight as they raided the copse in which the urn rested. They emerged holding it, hollering and whooping as though they found a horse’s weight in gold. They strapped it
to a drag behind one of their horses. They mounted and rode off, crying out praise to ‘the one true God’.

     Daeron struggled to raise a call, but he could find no voice. The darkness swam on his vision, closing in
, trying to suffocate him. Daeron attempted to fight it off. He was the Watch; he needed someone to know what happened here-

     His thoughts were interrupted by a slight rustling noise, and a cloaked figure emerged before him, long brown hair s
weeping freely past the man’s shoulders. His face was uncloaked.
Lucian. Thank Mother! He will know what to do.

     Lucian rushed to Daeron’s fallen body. He cradled his head in his lap, and cried for help. He looked down at Daeron as Daeron attempted to grasp his arms. “What is it, Daeron? You’re safe now. Gods, we had thought Aidan the stronger of you two, but
he went down without a fight. Yet here you are arrow in your throat and still you cling to life.”

     Daeron felt safe now. Lucian was strong, but cunning as well. He could interpret what happened and raise a cry. Daeron could pass on in peace.

     A slow smile crept along Lucian’s mouth. Daeron wondered if his brothers were coming. What other cause would Lucian have for such mirth? “Too bad for you, Daeron. You shouldn’t have fought so hard to live.”

     Lucian
took a hold of Daeron’s head. He was so weak that the muddled alarm entering his sluggish brain could not rouse his body to action. All he felt was confusion. Lucian gripped Daeron’s head tighter and wrenched. As blackness took him, Daeron caught the scent of sulfur and fire.   

****

     Gaia gazed into the clear pool, her reflection staring wearily back at her. She felt much older than the image appeared to be, that image being a tired one indeed. The smooth surface was suddenly broken by vigorous ripples. Gaia knew even before she heard the rushing footsteps that turmoil beset her peaceful home.

     “Mother! Aidan and Daeron are slain! Lucian has gone missing! And the urn has been stolen!”

     Her heart wept, yet she kept her voice level. “Have the attackers been identified?”

     The reporting Druid, a woman named Celice, hesitated before answering. “No, Mother. But the ground
is torn deeply by horse marks. We can track them.”

     Gaia rose slowly, fighting to keep her anguish from showing. “Summon the rest of the Guardians. Leave a small Watch over the glade. Assemble all others to the clearing.

      We prepare for war, should it come to that. Once you are all fully assembled, and donned for combat, summon for me. We’ll leave by the eighteenth hour.”

****

     They came upon the attacker’s camp three hours after they left. The fires were out, and no watch was visible. They were cloaked in the very night itself, the moon hidden safely away, obscured by the earth’s angle to the sun. Gaia had girded herself with simple battle adornment of her heavenly children’s fashion; leather under armor, a simple bronze cuirass, light helmet, small bronze shield and a short sword. Other than a dark trim of bronze, her armor and weapons bore no ornamentation.

     “My children,” she whispered to them as they gathered around her, keeping low on the small hill from which they oversaw the entire camp.

     “Two of you shall scout. Learn the whereabouts of the urn-”

     A blinding flash ensued, and a deep voice sounded from behind them. “Such craven manners from the much heralded ‘Guardians’ of Gaia.”

     Gaia turned around, pinning Aries with her gaze. “You incite others to do your bidding and you call my men and women craven? Small wonder the other gods consider you delusional.”

     Aries threw back his head and barked out a laugh. “A band of misfits judging one of their own for similar conduct? No, dearest Gaia, I believe it is
you
who are delusional.”

     Aries placed his fingers to his lips and let out a shrill whistle. In less than a heartbeat, Gaia and her Guardians were surrounded by the knights with the blood red cross emblazoned on their armor. The men carried torches which cast the Druids in half shadows. It also had the effect of highlighting their bright white arm
or. They would be easy targets in the half light.

     But given the Druids
’ current lack of key numbers, Gaia knew if they attacked, it would be a massacre. They were outnumbered by almost four to one, including Gaia herself. “Sadly however, my dearest Gaia, your legacy ends here tonight. My Templars, I order you to-”

     Before Aries
could issue the attack command, Gaia held up her hand. “Wait! I challenge you to one-on-one combat. If I win, my Guardians are free to go. If you win, we all die.”

     Aries hesitated for the briefest of seconds. Gaia knew he didn’t suspect any treachery on her part; he was far too conceited for that. But she also knew the thought of seeing the ‘pacifist goddess’ engage in the barbaric act of warfare, an act which she personally detested with every fiber of her being, held some small appeal to his more sadistic nature. He spread his hands in a condescending gesture. “And why would I do that? You are all dead as we speak anyways. If I accept your terms, you put me in the position of staking what is sure against a certain margin of failure. The concept is moronic in nature.”

     One of the knights near Gaia fidgeted. “Commander, what are your orders regarding the prisoners?”

    
So they don’t know Aries’ identity. He must seem as one of them through their eyes.
She felt the smile spread on her face unbidden. “You will accept the stakes because you want to see me soil my hands with that which I despise. You want me to fight. You
need
me to fight. Because of the sadistic nature that flows through your veins, you want to see someone who knows nothing of war struggle through battle with the greatest warrior of the ages.

     Because at your core, you want to defy all the gods and nothing would bring you more pleasure than to conquer each and every one of us with your own bare hands.”

    Aries’ lips curved upwards in perhaps the first genuine show of pleasure Gaia had ever seen from him. And that sent frost down her spine.

     “Very well, m’lady,” he said with a mocking salute. “I accept your terms.”

     Aries raised his right arm and called for his knights to step back from the field’s perimeter. Gaia raised her short sword high and motioned likewise to her Druids. Aries unsheathed a long, curved blade, its razor edge glinting in the torchlight.

     “I will give you no quarter, you wanton whore,” he spat, his tone vicious.

     “Nor would I expect quarter from a coward who hires mercenaries to fight his battles,” she returned, her voice dripping with distaste.

     She’d expected to touch on his ‘warrior’s pride’ and goad him into making a preemptive attack. She was not ready for his reaction to her barb, however. His chest rumbled as he let out another low rolling laugh. “Is that not what you do, dear ‘mother’? Oh, I mean besides approaching under cover of darkness and hoping to take a life by deception as opposed to looking a man in the eye and burying your dagger in his chest yourself. Who hides behind whom now, little mother?”

     Gaia fought another smile from caressing her full lips. His arrogance would
always
be his undoing, and now he left his flesh open to a far more tender barb. “We just came to see how your men trained, for by training we would know their method of fight.”

     The laughter die
d in Aries’ throat and he looked at her, brows raised in suspicion. He seemed as though he expected some odd trick, and Gaia hoped not to disappoint.

     “I see,” he murmured. “And did you come to find what you expected?”

     “Oh much more than that, m’lord,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “We found your warriors slipping dull swords into the satin sheathes of your consorts.”

     Aries’ features g
rew still, and the look he shot at her spoke volumes of cruel and deadly promise. “You should not have stepped foot on so treacherous ground, little mother. You will pay quite dearly for that.”

     One of the
Templars, incited by Gaia’s taunt rushed forward, his sword raised to strike. His head tumbled onto the ground as Aries’ own blade tasted the first blood of the day.
How apropos,
she thought.

     Aries leveled his sword and swept it in a wide path, the tip pointing out each rank of his soldiers. “No man interferes, or I’ll have
more
than his head on my roasting spit tonight. This bitch is
mine!
”

     His other arm swept in a wide arc with a furious roar, and flames jumped from the torches into a stream of blazing force, its path directed at Gaia. She raised her sword arm and the earth beckoned to her call, a large tsunami of ground burst forth in front of her,
and the wall deflected the brunt of the blast. She barely had enough time to react to Aries’ attack, for such speed as a gazelle in the fields did he manifest in his fury. The heat washed her skin with its unforgiving intensity.