PART IV – THE DEMON
Chapter 39
The view from the King’s balcony was
the best in Lorm. As a boy, Tolian had
spent many hours staring out over the fields, forests and villages that
stretched along the horizon. She loved
the balcony in the warmer months, but not in the colder times of the year
because the wind tended to blow with chilly ferocity at such a height, forcing
her to stay inside. She could not remember if she had ever seen the village in
its frozen glory, such as she saw it now.
They where not there, however, to
enjoy the expansive vista that rolled below them. Their eyes peered at the distant shapes that
neared the Palace from just above the Northeast horizon. Tolris handed Tolian the sight glass. She raised the glass to her eyes and scanned
the sky for a few moments before finding one of the approaching shapes. The glass magnified the object sufficiently
for her to make out the scaly wings and reptilian head of the dragon. It cut through the air with an ease that
seemed to belie the creature’s vast size.
She watched it draw closer, fascinated with its ancient and alien form.
At last she turned the glass lower
towards the far grounds beneath the flying lizards (there were five together) and she
could just see the dust and smoke from the enemy army that neared as well. It was impossible to determine the size of
the invading force yet, but she felt certain the Lormians out numbered the
terrestrial attackers. She also knew,
however, that they were not going to be the problem. She took one more gaze at the dragons and
passed the sight glass to Findelbres, who handed it immediately to Brythia.
“I see them quite clearly, without
assistance, thank you,” he said. His
face showed a grimness which was most uncanny given the faerie’s usual mirth.
Tolian breathed out heavily. She was worried. How could even the warrior capital of Lorm
withstand the fiery wrath of the dragons?
Tolris heard Tolian’s sigh of dread.
“Fear not, my son,” the king
said. “We shall make this fight an
interesting one, I assure you. Since the
Messenger’s arrival we have been making preparations against such forms of
attack.”
Tolian was caught off guard by her
father’s confidence.
“How do you prepare for that?” asked
Brythia as she stared through the sight glass at their monstrous assailants.
A self-assured smile came over
Tolris’s face, “You shall see, my dear.
You shall see. We have some
surprises for this Demon, haven’t we, good Rwiordes?”
There was no reply. The Messenger was not upon the balcony with
them.
“Now that’s odd,” said King
Tolris. “I wonder where’s he gotten to?”
“Perhaps he went inside to escape the
chill,” offered Findelbres.
“Perhaps,” agreed the King.
“I have a feeling the chill is the
last thing we’re going to feel out here soon,” Tolian said.
“How long would you estimate it will
take them to get here?” asked King
Tolris.
“The dragons could get here in a half
an hour if they wanted to,” answered Brythia.
“However, it appears that they are holding back, presumably pacing
themselves with the ground troops. I’d say
we have about two hours.”
Tolris nodded, “Two hours should be
ample time.”
He turned to his page, “Fetch the
Chief Bannerman and my Trumpeter.”
The lad departed in haste.
“What I don’t understand,” stated
Brythia, “is how the prophecy could be wrong regarding this Demon’s plan of
attack. He should still be concentrating
on the Northern Kingdoms.”
That’s right, thought Tolian. She remembered, `He shall be lord of the
North by the Winter Solstice’. Instead,
he had decided to invade Lorm.
“Ah, I think I understand what has
happened,” said the King.
“Indeed?” asked Brythia, surprised.
“The Messenger could explain it
better, but, as he has stepped away for a moment, I think I can enlighten you.”
Tolris said.
“If I understood Rwiordes correctly,”
he explained, “Apparently the Demon had initially possessed only Rwiordes’
friend, Perelisk. Once he had become
aware of Tolian, he also took possession of another chap, Hertrid, I
believe. He now has two bodies and
commands two separate armies. No doubt
his conquest of the North shall be complete within the three days leading up to
the Solstice, in accordance with your prophecy.
Luckily for us, your prophecy does not mention the fall of Lorm, so perhaps
we have a chance.”
Brythia was as clearly surprised by
Tolris’s words as Tolian was. And both
felt empowered by his optimism.
“If he has divided himself up,”
offered Brythia, “then his power should be equally divided.”
“Meaning?” asked Tolian.
“That the Demon we shall face today
is only half as strong as he was initially,” answered the druidess.
“Another dose of hope,” suggested an
almost jolly Tolris.
“Let us not get drunk upon too many
doses,” chided a grim Findelbres. “Many will die today, make no mistake.”
Of course Findelbres could not
understand the king. Tolian knew that
much. Where Findelbres thought that
Tolris’ hopeful enthusiasm was a sign of foolish confidence, Tolian understood
the warrior king better. Tolris had no
illusions about the coming battle. He
was not blind to the odds staggered against them. But, Lormians did not fear a fight, even one
in which there was no hope of victory.
Lormians loved a good battle, especially if they felt they had a few
secret stratagems that the enemy might not be expecting. The King of Lorm was not afraid of death, or
even the destruction of his palace or his entire kingdom. They would do their best against the Demon,
and it would be more than the Demon was anticipating. That much was sure.
The Chief Bannerman and the rest of
the King’s command staff came out on to the balcony just as a stiff wind gust
brought fresh shivers to gathered there. They bowed as they drew close to
Tolris. He waved them quickly to their
feet.
First the king addressed old Urno,
the Chief Bannerman. “Have the Bannermen
received the new banners?”
“They have, Majesty.”
“And our troops understand their
instructions properly?”
“They do, Majesty.”
“Right,” said Tolris, “Let us begin
the preliminary drills.”
Tolian was intrigued by the
references to the new banners. In Lorm
they had been using a banner system for military signalling for hundreds of
years. In those years they had developed
seven banners for use in field campaigns, six additional banners for siege
situations. Never in all that time had
there been a need for extra banners beyond that.
Urno raised the orange banner high
above his head and waved it twice. As he
did so the trumpeter sounded his horn. All
over the fortifications the bannermen raised their own orange flags. Tolian knew that the orange banner first
raised was the signal to make certain the bannermen were in their correct
places, could make visual contact with Urno, and respond accurately. Urno leaned down and scanned the palace to
make a count of the visible banners, then looked back to the relay bannermen
who directed his signals to the sections of the palace where he could not be
seen. The Relay men signalled that everyone
was in place and ready.
The next banner, the blue, always
followed, in the preliminary drills, to test the troops’ comprehension and
awareness of the system. Urno brought
his blue banner high over his head and immediately the orange banners were
replaced by blue throughout the palace.
The Bowman drew back their bows, Spears were raised along the walls, and
the shouts of the men-of-war echoed up the turrets.
The drills were a common place
occurrence for Tolian. Her mind drifted
from the banners to her companions.
Brythia watched the preparations with interest and a measure of respect,
clearly impressed with Lormian military organization. Tolian noticed that Kilfrie slipped back into
the palace in an almost furtive fashion.
It was Findelfres’ activities, however, that attracted the bulk of
Tolian’s interest.
Findelbres had removed his backpack
and set it out on the balcony’s stone floor.
In the time they had traveled together, Tolian realized, she had never
seen the faerie open the pack for any reason.
He did so now. He carefully
removed a bundle that appeared to be sticks and some sort of odd cloth wrapped
together. The cloth material was
brightly colored and possessed a rich sheen in the cold sunshine. He unwrapped the bundle with great
concentration as though the sticks and material were of an extremely delicate
nature. Tolian had no idea what
Findelbres was doing, or what the mysterious contents of the pack were for that
matter.
Tolris’ voice rang out “The Brown
banner!”
Tolian’s brain snapped back to the
defensive preparations. A brown
banner? What could a brown banner
possibly signal? She watched with curiosity
as Urno raised a banner colored a mud brown hue. Brown banners went up over in response. Tolian leaned over the balcony to get a
better view. From all over the palace,
buckets of a brown liquid were dumped out over the palaces’ walls and
fortifications. Men climbed out on the
roofs and emptied pails of the substance over nearly every portion of the palace. A strong sweet aroma came to Tolian,
reminding her of tree sap.
“What are they doing?” asked Tolian.
“Of course!” exclaimed Brythia.
“Tylous sap, brilliant!”
Tolris smiled proudly.
“Tylous sap?”
“The sap of the tylous tree has a
great many properties, including resistance to flame,” offered Brythia. “I did not realize that such knowledge was
widely known, however.”
“The druids do not hold natural
knowledge exclusively, my dear,” said the King.
“I would say that it is a happy thing
that we do not, Your Majesty,” replied the druidess.
“I just hope it works against the
dragonfire,” said Tolris.
“It should help some,” said
Findelbres.
Tolian turned her attention back to
the faerie. He had finished his task and
was standing up. Upon his back were strapped
a gigantic pair of wings, constructed of the sticks and cloth from his
back. They resembled the wings of a
butterfly in their general shape, though their color was more vivid and wildly
distributed. The fabric was thinner than
the finest silk, and possessed a mysterious gleam in the grey winter’s
daylight.
“Wings?”
“Aye, every faerie warrior knows to
keep his wings with him at all times,” replied Findelbres.
“Do they work?” asked Tolian.
“You’ll see,” said Findelbres.
With that, a silence fell over them
as they turned their attentions again to the skies. The dragons were now visible to the naked
eye, as were the sizeable columns of the approaching army. The enemy calvary rode over the cold, long
harvested fields. Behind them ran the
foot soldiers with swords already brandished.
The shadows cast by the dragons played over the Demon’s troops,
obscuring several columns to Tolian’s gaze.
Even so, she could just discern a large shape moving on the ground just
behind the running army.
Tolian watched, as if in a trance,
removed from the sight she was seeing.
She felt no attachment to her surroundings. The menace of the reptilian monsters meant
nothing. The thousands of warriors
storming the palace meant nothing. She
watched numbly and waited. She was
focused on one thing only, the knowledge that somewhere, the Demon was down
there.
“I have an idea,” said Brythia. “It might help.”
“Yes?” asked Tolris, eagerly.
“I’m going to need a cup of water,”
said the druidess. “Quickly.”
“A cup of water?” repeated Tolian
questioningly. “You’re thirsty at a time
like this?”
“As Findelbres said, `you’ll see’.”
Tolian raised an eyebrow, but ran off
instantly to fetch the water. She was
back in the blink of an eye. Tolris,
Miderick and Urno gaped in amazement.
“How’s this?” asked Tolian, offering
a bronze goblet filled with water to Brythia.
“Perfect,” she answered unfazed by
Tolian’s speed. “Thank you,” she added.
“You’re welcome.”
“It’s not possible,” muttered Urno,
the Chief Bannerman.
“Amazing,” said the king
appreciatively. “This Demon fellow is
going to be in for more than he bargained for.”
“If my plan works,” said Brythia, “we
might hold the advantage in this battle, but I have to work fast.”
The golden haired druidess walked to
the corner of the balcony and sat cross-legged on the cold stone floor. She carefully set the goblet down before
her. She reached into the small pouch
that hung always around her waist, bringing out a white crystal. Holding the crystal over the goblet, Brythia
closed her eyes and began to hum a soft melody. Her countenance expressed a
deep quietness. Peace. It seemed impossible to Tolian that anyone
could look so at peace at a time such as that.
Tolris looked at Tolian
curiously. She shrugged her
shoulders. “She knows what she’s doing.”
“You’re friends are interesting, my
son,” noted King Tolris.
“Daughter.”
Tolian had corrected him. It astounded them both. It felt right to do, and Tolian was proud of
herself. Findelbres smiled. Brythia did
not hear it. She sat there for some time
totally absorbed in her magickal working, as the Demon’s forces drew ever
closer to the palace. Suddenly, she
surprised everyone by quickly standing and throwing the water from the bronze
goblet into the air. At once the
droplets crystallized and drifted down as a few dozen snowflakes.
“Krious!” shouted Brythia.
The flakes stopped their lazy
descent, held impossibly still in the air, and then rose upwards to the grey
sky.
“Now,” said Brythia. “We wait and see what happens.”
Copyright 2002, 2015 Diana Hignutt
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