The Cavalier (8 page)

Braal looked down at Marsk’s twitching body. He knew that there was nothing he could do for him. Marsk was not a great man, but he had ended his life with dignity and he deserved a better death. Braal turned around to face his enemies, prepared to die with the rest of his friends.

Suddenly a huge explosion shook the ground around him, sending him flying through the air to land heavily on his back. As he slowly arose, he noticed that the forty or so remaining boargs had retreated to the log wall. They all stood, surrounding a huge smoking hole. A ten foot section of the wall was blown inward, the large logs shattered and smoking on the ground.

The remaining fifty men retreated back to Braal. Tired and covered in blood, they glanced around, unsure of what to do. Suddenly all was still. All they could hear was their hearts pounding as a black mist slowly drifted through the hole.
 

Braal suddenly wanted to flee, to get away from the evil that was stealing his resolve. His men felt it too. But they were frozen with fear, on the verge of running away from the darkness, but they could do nothing but stare at the dark shape slowly emerging through the hole in the wall.

A massive black horse carrying a shrouded rider appeared from the darkness like a wraith. Braal’s hands began to shake. His axe dropped to the ground. A dark cape draped the rider’s deathly form. Beneath it, he wore fearsome spiked armor as black as night and etched with intricate carvings of demons and other creatures of the dark. Ram-like horns curved down around his ominous looking helm, barely concealing the specter’s glowing red eyes which radiated hatred and malice, sucking everything of light into its dark aura that surrounded it.

***

The boargs continued to swarm over the gate like cockroaches. Airos had long ago put away his bow but not before he had killed a score of them as they tried to scale the log wall. Suatha moved up and down the lines allowing Airos to cut a line of death as they went. Suatha would sense the boarg’s movement and position Airos for the kill every time, his magic blade easily cutting into the boarg’s tough hides.

The men and women around him were not faring as well. The front line was almost decimated, and the reserve line was moving in to fill any slots that opened as the boargs tore someone to pieces.

Airos was quickly surveying the scene when a huge boarg leaped from the top of the wall. Airos sensed the attack and turned just in time to take the full impact of the beast right in the chest, sending them both flying backwards onto the snow covered ground. Airos hit the ground hard rolling backwards to absorb some of the impact. He quickly got his feet underneath him and leaped up with his sword held in a defensive position.

The boarg, now standing, swung its powerful arm with impossible speed. This boarg was huge, two heads taller than Airos, and its fur was more silver than gray. Airos realized he was fighting the leader of the pack. He ducked underneath the swing, launching a series of offensive attacks. The beast was fast, very fast, and it was able to avoid the strikes by dodging them and using the flats of its tough large palms to smack the blade away when it got too close.

Airos drew his razor sharp hunting knife, thinking he may need his skill with two blades to defeat this opponent. He looked to his left quickly to see that Suatha was busy keeping two hungry boargs away from her flanks. A cavalier’s steed was no ordinary animal, they were able to think, reason, and use magic of their own. Even riderless they were still formidable in a fight. Suatha’s powerful body and hooves were as deadly as any warrior’s sword.

Airos was on his own for this fight. He could kill the boarg with magic but he knew that he might need all the strength he could muster when the Banthra arrived. The use of magic always taxed him physically and mentally and therefore Airos had to be judicious with its use.

The huge boarg moved in quickly, both arms reaching to grab him in its iron-like grip. Airos spun the two weapons in a defensive blur, repeatedly slicing into its flesh and narrowly escaping those deadly arms.
 

The boarg quickly changed its tactics and tried to ram Airos. The huge powerful head charged at him like a blacksmith’s hammer, the two horns, both as thick as a man’s arm, leading the way. Airos could strike the boarg’s head but he knew that their skulls were thick and that it would do little damage. The two horns would impale him before he could kill the beast.

But the boarg had never fought a human as quick and agile as Airos. Instead of retreating, Airos dove forward underneath the massive head and between the legs of the charging animal, his sharp hunting knife slashing across the beast’s inner thigh. He continued his roll, rising quickly to his feet to engage the next boarg, not even looking back at the doomed animal as it bled out.

Airos killed four more boargs before he felt it, the evil presence hitting him like an oppressive wave. Suatha felt it too, moving back behind the lines to wait for him. He jumped over dead bodies, many of them women and children, and leaped onto her back, sword held in hand. He looked toward the south wall and saw fifty or so people running towards them. It must be their reserve line thought Airos. There was a young boy carrying a bloody spear running towards him panting with exertion and fright.

“Sir…Braal sent his reserves back to regroup with you! He and Marsk stayed with the front line to keep the boargs back!
 
He told me to tell you this!” Fil yelled through panting breaths.

“Good work, boy,” Airos replied.

Just then Airos caught site of Gorum the baker battling a boarg that had breached the front lines. Airos sheathed his sword, drawing his bow and nocking an arrow from a quiver on Suatha’s side. In one smooth motion Airos drew back the powerful bow, sighted in the target, and released the shaft. The arrow slammed into the beast’s side, burying itself to the feathers. The boarg stumbled to the ground, wheezing for air as its lungs filled with blood. Airos returned the bow to its sheath at Suatha’s side as Gorum stumbled backwards; his legs and arms exhausted from constant fighting.

“To me, Gorum!” yelled Airos.

Gorum, seeing safety in Airos, moved quickly towards him carrying his large heavy sword at his side. “Thank you, cavalier,” Gorum blurted, his words coming through labored breaths.

“I have to leave you; the Banthra is here, at the south wall. If I do not return I want you to organize a retreat and get as many people out of the town as possible. If you’re lucky, the boargs will stay here and feed rather than follow you. I cannot promise you anything, just do the best you can to get as many survivors to safety as possible. If I can kill the Banthra then we may have a chance. If not, then you need to get far away from this town for a while, until they have fed.”

“I will do my best, sir,” replied Gorum.

“I wish you luck, baker. Now be off and may Ulren guide you,” replied Airos as he flicked the reins. Gorum was already running towards the line as Suatha leaped into the night.

***

Braal and his men were paralyzed with fear as the boargs slowly crept towards them, saliva dripping from their open mouths. They could sense their paralysis, and they wanted to tease them, like a cat plays with its prey. Braal’s heart began to beat faster and he willed his body to move, to pick up his axe and die fighting, but his body would not obey.

The black rider slowly advanced, his huge horse stepping forward, its massive hooves covered in mangy blood soaked fur, pushing deep into the trampled snow. The horse’s cave-like nostrils flared open as steam hissed from them, splattering mucous into the air. The dark steed curled up its frothy lips, exposing large fangs covered with saliva and blood. Red eyes scanned the men before it, hatred spearing every man who looked upon the deadly animal. This horse was no ordinary horse, but a nightmare, a demon, just like its rider. But it was the Banthra’s gaze that froze them all and they could do nothing to stop the boargs approach.

“Feed my children, kill them all,” hissed the Banthra, his voice sending a paralyzing chill down Braal’s spine.

The boargs moved in slowly, continuing to play with the immobilized men. Their jaws clicked open and shut, exposing fearsome teeth.

Braal was not afraid to die, but to die like this was terrifying.
Give me my axe
, thought Braal,
and let me take several of you demons with me
.

A brilliant white light suddenly bathed them all, awakening them and freeing them from the Banthra’s spell. Suatha and Airos thundered to the center of the line, white light erupting from them like a star. The men hastily moved back behind Airos, their weapons held before them. The boargs did the same, moving quickly behind the Banthra who had backed away from the light.

The Banthra’s scream sent a chill through everyone, and the men looked around nervously, retreating slowly backwards. Airos lifted his sword high, the white light flaring even brighter. As the light bathed the men in its magical warmth, they became invigorated, their muscles no longer tired, their fear erased, new energy and purpose coursing through their veins. They held out their weapons and set their feet firmly in the ground with new resolve. The powerful light slowly dissipated, but it did not totally go away. It was as if Airos and Suatha were outlined in it, a white light that glowed steadily.

“You are not wanted here demon spawn! Your very presence blights this land! Come, and let me send you back to the dark pits from which you were created!” Airos roared.

The Banthra made a rasping, hissing noise, as if it were laughing. “A cavalier; it has been a thousand years since I’ve had the pleasure of killing one.” The Banthra drew a massive sword from its back and held the blade out to the side. The blade erupted with orange and red flames. “Prepare to meet your precious god, cavalier, for you are about to die.”

Like a rock flung from a sling, the Banthra bolted towards Airos with its sword held high. Airos and Suatha shot forward to meet the charge. The boargs followed their master and flung themselves forward, pouncing upon the sturdy men of Manson.

The glowing blades of the mighty warriors clashed over and over again, sending sparks and magical energy into the air. The Banthra’s devil steed broke through Suatha’s defenses and sunk its teeth deeply into the side of her neck. Airos saw the move, kicking the horse in the face hoping to dislodge the dangerous fangs. The Banthra, taking advantage of the sudden opening, swung its sword down and across Airos’s exposed leg. The blade glanced across his cuisse that protected his upper thigh and made a shallow cut just above the kneecap. Suatha used her powerful head and smashed it against the demon horse until its jaws tore away flesh and they both pulled apart, circling each other.

The shallow cut on Airos’s leg burned with pain. Even a shallow cut from a Banthra’s weapon can kill, for the blades and armor of the black knights are cursed.
 
But Airos was a cavalier, and the pain began to subside as he closed the wound with his magic.
 

“Do you feel it, cavalier, your life nearing its end?” The Banthra hissed mockingly.

Airos laughed loudly. “That is your folly fallen one. I have no fear of death, but you are already dead. You are nothing without the twisted magic that makes you what you are! You are empty!”
 
Airos yelled as he and Suatha leaped forward again. This time Suatha led the charge with her front hooves, and Airos, faster than the eye could see, flung his sword to his left hand.

Suatha’s hooves pounded into the Banthra and it was forced backwards, his sword held to the side. Airos, his blade now on the near side of the Banthra, swung it down on top of the neck of the demon horse. The black steed tried to turn its head away from the deadly blade but all that did was expose the side of its neck even more. Eight inches of Airos’s blade sunk in just to the right of the vertebrae, slicing all the way through the side of the neck. The devilish horse screamed, staggering backwards, black blood pulsing from the long gash on its neck. As the steed stumbled to the ground, the Banthra jumped from its back to land squarely on his feet.

***

Jonas was not sure how much longer he could stay in his hiding place. It was pitch black and he could hear the screams of the fighting outside. The sounds were all muffled but he could tell that horrible things were happening as he hid away in the safe confines of his hole. He felt like a coward and that did not bode well with him.
But what can I do
, he thought.
I would just get in the way
.
 

Suddenly a loud noise erupted from inside Gorum’s home. Jonas strained to hear what was happening and to recognize the source of the noise.

Lorna stood just to the left of the door of Gorum’s home. She was so frightened, more frightened than she could ever imagine, but she was not scared for herself, she was terrified for her son. She could not imagine the deadly teeth of the boargs tearing into her helpless son’s body. She would not let that happen. She would die trying to stop it.

In her hand she held a razor sharp bread knife as long as her forearm. She heard the
 
boargs outside ransacking the homes, and she knew it was only a matter of time before they entered Gorum’s home.

Suddenly a fist pounded on the locked door. The loud noise brought her out of her reverie. She gripped her knife harder, her heart pounding in her head.

“Lorna, it’s me, Gorum, open up the door!”

Lorna let out her held breath, quickly lifting up the heavy oak beam and opening the door. Gorum rushed in and shut the door while Lorna replaced the beam. He was covered in blood and he had a huge claw mark from ear to collar bone, his iron sword was dripping crimson on the wood floor.