The Fallen Guardian (The Guardian Chronicles 2) (10 page)

It
did not take long for him to find Lady Hilzarie because she was floating over a
large group of creatures that Neb did not immediately recognize. He had seen
them in the beginning, but they had been altered or had evolved into a form
that he did not readily identify. His fellow Elemental turned to face him as he
approached. She had a bored look on her beautiful face as she looked around at
her comrade. She did not need to say anything because he had already seen for
himself that these vast lands posed no threat to the situation in Tuwa. Neb
smiled understandably at Hilzarie to show that he understood her disposition.

“You
need not say anything, little sister. I know that these primitive creatures
pose no threat. Have you completed the task that was given to you?” he asked
smoothly.

“Yes,
I have verified that these southlanders are not interested in the war in Tuwa
and the beasts are only interested in killing one another or finding a suitable
meal. None of the inhabitants have even approached the north land during my
visit,” she replied.

“Well,
let us leave this dismal place and report back to Khalida. She will be
expecting us.”  He knew that Hilzarie’s task was needed, but that did not
mitigate the fact that it was a dubious one.

“I
agree with your assessment of my assignment.”  Hilzarie gave Neb a quick and
infectious smile. She could always tell what Neb was thinking. He had always
trusted her and treated her like a sister. As a result of this, he did not
protect his thoughts or feelings from her when they were alone together.

Neb
did not say anything in return; he merely smiled at her. As they began their
journey back to the north land, clouds surrounded them and a strong wind blew
from the south, driving them at an incredible speed. They had to meet with
Mistress Khalida that evening in Landen and report their findings. They looked
forward to the meeting and knew that Lady Necia would probably be there to
report on her visit to the icy north lands. They both hoped that the guardian
would surprise them by being present, but they knew that their great leader had
many places to go and many allies to procure. He had a daunting yet vital task.
His success alone would likely save them all.

General
Verandos had already changed into his bear form and was helping the giants
defend the rear as the armies of elves and giants made a full retreat. They
were heading due east toward the Blaine River where some of the soldiers had
already arrived at one of the bridges. They had crossed the river and set up
defensive positions to cover those who had not crossed the bridge yet. The
people would then continue along the southern end of the cliffs to eventually
gain entry into Landen. Some of the giant soldiers had joined the elves in
their positioning on the eastern bank in order to provide some serious
artillery support. The armies moved at a steady pace and did not show any signs
of panic. Lord Neb had made it clear that this was a strategic move and that
they could have fended off the orcs and high elves if they had stayed where
they were. However, the only way to save all of the good races in Tuwa was to
unify their armies in a strong defensive posture. Landen was the perfect place
to do just that.

The
druid general had placed a magical barrier between their defensive positions
and the approaching orcs and high elves. Lord Marcello had reinforced this
shield and was posturing himself for a massive attack on their pursuers. He was
waiting for the command from General Verandos and General Lang to begin the
offensive. The army of elves had made it to the river by this point, and the
elven citizens had already crossed the blustering Blaine River. They were
heading for the southeastern entrance to Landen surrounded by the entire elven
army. The giants that were left to aid the crossing of the elves took complete
control of the defenses. The elves that had been helping them joined their army
on their trek to the southern gate. The bridge that had been used was no more
because the giants could wade across the river with little difficulty, so the
giants had destroyed it as they waded across the Blaine. This would make it
slow going for the orcs and high elves in the attempt to cross the river.

“Lord
Marcello, please welcome our uninvited guests,” ordered General Lang
sardonically.

“Be
sure to give the high elves the warmest of greetings,” added General Verandos
snidely.

Lord
Marcello raised the massive oak tree staff high into the air and began to twirl
it around over his head. He muttered under his breath, and the staff began to
glow an icy blue color with a hint of green color to it. A mist of the same
colors appeared as he continued to twirl the staff faster and faster. Finally
Marcello pointed his staff at his foes, and the bluish green mist shot like a
bolt of lightning at the orcs and high elves. The mist froze everything in its
path, and the greenish mist poisoned the troops affected by the freezing spell.
About one-third of their front lines were affected by this ingenious attack.
The poison killed about half of those that were infected. Those who did not die
from the attack ended up making slow, painful recoveries. This surprise attack
stopped the axis armies in their tracks and gave the giants the chance to
retreat back to the other side of the river before the orcs and high elves
resumed their march.

Once
on the other side of the Blaine River the giants entrenched themselves into
even stronger defensive positions. They rummaged for all sorts of projectiles
while they waited for the massive armies to approach. Lord Marcello took a position
in the back to regain his strength. He knew that if he kept on using magic at
such a powerful level that there would be a hefty price to pay. Like any magic
wielder, there was a cost associated with any use of magic. It felt like losing
blood with each use and would prove much more severe the greater the prolonged
usage. However, Marcello was also a giant, so his own blood fought the effects
of his magic. This drained the venerable wizard to deadly levels and required
much longer recovery times. He had killed several thousand orcs and high elves
in his attack, so he felt the sacrifice was worth the pain.

The
armies of the orcs and high elves did not approach the river for several hours,
which allowed Lord Marcello time to fully recover. Once the armies finally came
into view through the trees, the giant wizard sprang into action again. He
began to twirl his staff all around his body in fluid motions that caught
everyone’s attention. The axis armies stopped in their tracks to watch what the
enormous giant was doing. They thought that they were comfortably out of range,
so they stood there casually waiting for something to happen. As the motions of
the staff intensified, a dense silver mist appeared above the waters and over
the ruined bridge. Within a few minutes, the river was covered in the thick fog
for miles in either direction. The cost for this bit of magic was not that high
because of the simplicity of the spell. The silvery mist transformed anything
that came in contact with it into stone. The giants were encouraged by this
ingenious use of magic by their leader. They left their posts and marched at
top speed toward the southeastern gate to Landen.

The
elves reached the southeastern gate without incident or any signs of their
enemies giving chase. As they entered Landen, they received a warm welcome from
the sentries that were stationed there. They had orders from King Leroy to
welcome the armies of the giants and elves as if they were expected. The
soldiers did not know how the king knew about their arrival, but they did not
question his insight. They could tell that the elves had experienced some
pretty difficult times just from their attire and the looks on their faces. The
elven army was shown the defensive positions at once so that they could ready
themselves to use them. The elves explained that it was likely that the giant
army would be closely followed by an innumerable orc army and a high elven
army. They had to explain what high elves were at first because that
information had not been explained to the ranks of the Landen home guard.

The
general population of elves went to designated homesteads that had been vacated
for their occupation while the threat of war lasted. As the non-military people
made their way to their new homes, the elven army prepared the defenses for
immediate use. The entire southern cliff’s defenses were filled by their
soldiers. This enabled the knights of Landen to bolster their cavalry ranks.
This brought the number of horse riders to one hundred fifty thousand strong.
The size alone would enable them to take on the entire orc armies by
themselves, especially after Lord Marcello’s magical attacks that had seriously
reduced their ranks. A few hours after arriving at their new posts, the elven
army spotted the giants retreating along the base of the cliff at top speed. It
appeared to the defenders that they were being chased. After a few minutes, it
was clear that no one was giving pursuit just yet.

It
did not take long for the giants to traverse the desolate plain below the
southern cliffs. They barely stopped at the gate to give a greeting and
explanation of where they were going. They wanted to take up their posts along
the western cliff. They were still running because they felt that they might be
able to catch the orcs and high elves at the crossing. They thought they might
be able to take advantage of the stone mist by throwing projectiles through the
magical haze. Their missiles would turn into stone and bludgeon their
unsuspecting foes. The giants were almost giddy at this thought and picked up
the pace even more so because they believed they would be able to catch their
quarry unawares. General Lang was outpacing everyone as his mind raced over the
possibilities.
If we could get to that bluff in time to find those fools
still trapped behind the wall of Marcello’s mist, we could give them several
reasons to turn back!

As
the giant army reached the bluff of the western cliff and began to take their
defensive positions, there was a collective intake of breath. The armies below
were no longer shrouded in the silvery mist, and they were not nursing wounds.
They were building siege works. There was one figure who was standing at the
edge of the water who appeared to be staring right back at them. General Lang
began to shout orders and encouraged them to stick to their plan. After a few
more minutes of preparation, the giants were ready for the assault. The
soldiers waited patiently to begin the aerial attack on the little orcs and
wicked elves. After a few more tense moments, General Lang barked, “Fire!” 
Missiles of every kind flew through the air toward the defenseless armies
below. When the deadly objects reached the river, they literally stopped in
midair. It was as though they had hit an invisible barrier. The giants’ missiles
smashed into nothing as they continued to hit this apparent magical wall.

“Lord
Marcello!” boomed General Lang’s voice. “Come here at once!”

The
massive magician moved swiftly to stand beside the enraged general. “What is
it, Lang?” he queried calmly.

“Kill
that little wicked elf that has created this magical barrier,” he ordered,
pointing at the now-infamous Lord Dükker.

“I
will see what I can do,” replied Marcello simply. He had a look of intense
concentration on his face as he sized up his opponent.
This is a formidable
foe if he could have removed my silver mist so easily. This invisible barrier
is difficult to create and even more laborious to maintain. How has he managed
this?

“Are
you going to attack him or just stand there thinking?” blasted the impatient
general. Lord Marcello did not pay him the slightest bit of attention as he
raised his arms to the sky. He began to mutter a series of spells under his
breath as he arched his staff toward a point in the sky high above them. Clouds
did not form, but the sky became full of lightning as though a massive storm
was about to be unleashed. Marcello knew that his first attack would do very
little, but he wanted to get the warlock’s attention.

Lord
Marcello closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them abruptly. They had
turned bright yellow and were making odd crackling noises. He angled his staff
toward the high elf below him, and several bolts of yellow lightning struck him
where he stood. The blackened figure staggered slightly at the repeated attacks
on his person. Then he seemed to right himself and threw up a personal
protective barrier. This was exactly what Marcello was hoping for. He knew that
the little warlock could not keep a massive barrier up at the same time
protecting himself with a smaller more intense version for himself. The
gigantic magical wall dissipated with a faint pop. Marcello slammed his staff
down to the ground and bellowed, “Fire at will!”  Missiles filled the air once
more, and this time they struck several of their targets. The wicked elves did
not have time to finish their additional siege weapons, so they began to move
the ones they had toward a makeshift bridge.

When
several of the giants turned their attention toward the bridge that had been
crudely made by the orcs, they came under attack from the dark elf below them.
He sent up balls of fire that ripped through their defensive weapons like
kindling. Marcello rushed to their aid by throwing up walls of ice for the
flames to hit. As the giant wizard reached the troops who were being attacked,
he heard screams of pain from behind him somewhere. He wheeled about to see
that the wicked warlock was now systematically destroying all of the defensive
weapons that he had just saved. Several giants were sent tumbling over the
hundred-foot cliff to their deaths. Some actually survived the fall, and it was
their screams that ripped through the air. General Lang sprang into action.

“Commander
Boaz, take your artillery units and station yourselves a few paces back from
the edge of the cliff. Boaz, have runners coordinate your attacks for you,”
ordered the general decisively. The commander and his soldiers fell back to a
more secure distance from the attacks of the warlock. Runners appeared at once,
and the artillery of the giants began to rip through the air in a more
definitive pattern.

“Commander
Gerodi, have your troops fall back behind the artillery units. We will have
need of you and your soldiers if those vile betrayers and filthy orcs enter
this land. Leave a few thousand here to defend Commander Boaz’s ranks, and take
the rest to fortify the southeastern gate,” Lang ordered. The commander saluted
and carried out the orders he had just been given.

“Lord
Marcello, I need your ranks to divide up now,” Lang began. “I want your
catapults to line up just behind Boaz’s artillery. I want them to use a magical
fire so that it cannot be quenched. I want your trebuchets along the southern
wall to hammer any orc or high elf that attempts to take the southern route. I
have received word that the cliff to the north of us is being defended by
General Yukio and his army. The army of Landen is defending the portion of the
western cliff that we are not. I have also heard that there are over one
hundred fifty thousand horse riders, so our job is to delay and kill as many as
you can. The horsemen will do the rest,” explained Lang to his good friend
Marcello.

“Your
strategy sounds like the best possible plan. I will divide up my siege ranks as
you have commanded. What of the king’s guard?” asked the giant wizard.

“Ask
them to accompany King Angus to the capital city of Landen. King Leroy is
awaiting him there. They may be used to help shore up the northern defense, or
they may be asked to watch the eastern sea,” replied General Lang.