Chapter Ten

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“Sir?” When no answer is forthcoming, Devin pokes his head in the tent and finds James lying there on his cot sound asleep. “Sir?” he says again, this time a little louder hoping to wake him without startling him. It’s said that to startle a mage out of sleep is fraught with perils.

When he still doesn’t respond, Devin moves inside and comes over next to his cot. Placing his hand on James’ chest, he says softly while giving a small shake, “James, wake up.”

James sits up abruptly and Devin jumps backward in shock at the unexpected movement.

Bloodshot eyes opening, he glances around the tent and sees Devin off to one side, staring at him. “What?” he asks in a voice still sluggish from sleep.

“Illan says sunrise is approaching,” he tells him.

Groaning, James lies back down on his cot and places an arm across his face. “Go away,” he says. It feels like he just closed his eyes after he returned from the meeting with Lord Pytherian.

“Yes, sir,” Devin says and backs out of the tent.

He lies there in silence for several minutes and is about ready to slip back to sleep when the tent flap opens again. “Go away Devin,” he says, arm still over his face.

When Devin doesn’t answer he turns his head toward the tent flap and opens an eye just in time to see a bucket’s worth of water come flying through the air toward him. Eyes flying open, he freezes in startlement as the cold water hits him.

“Ahhh!” he cries as he sits up, drenched with water.

“Time to wake up sleepyhead,” Jiron says with a chuckle.

James glances toward the flap and sees him there with an empty bucket in his hand. “What did you do that for?” he says accusingly.

“You did tell me to make sure everyone was up by dawn,” he explains.

“I did not!” he replies.

“Yes, you did. Now get changed,” he insists before leaving the tent.

Clothes soaked and beginning to shiver from the cold water, he gets up and changes into a dry set of clothes. Once he’s changed, he takes out his shaving kit and removes what stubble has grown since the last time he shaved. Leaving the old wet clothes on the floor of the tent, he makes his way outside.

The plaza is a flurry of activity as everyone hurries to make ready for the upcoming battle. Food is being prepared, swords sharpened and armor is mended as best it can. Devin comes to him with a bowl of food and a mug of water.

“Thanks,” he says with a yawn as he takes it.

“You’re welcome,” he replies. Off to one side he sees Illan in his full Black Hawk regalia talking to Henri. Eating his food while he walks, James makes his way over.

“…as if they’re fortifying their position,” Henri is saying.

Illan turns at his approach and says, “The enemy is digging in. Scouts report that more troops have arrived during the night.”

“Possibly another couple thousand,” Henri interjects. “Lord Pytherian thinks they may have already been on the way before your attack last night and not a response to it.”

He looks to Illan and asks, “Will this change our plans any?”

Shaking his head, he replies, “I doubt it. Just make things more interesting.”

Henri glances to James and says, “Hope you can pull this off.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “How far away is dawn?”

“An hour or so,” he replies.

“Have Delia meet me over by the baggage once everyone’s done eating,” he says.

“Very well,” replies Illan. Then to Henri he says, “Tell Lord Pytherian we’ll be ready at the appointed time.”

“Yes, sir, Black Hawk,” Henri replies. Giving Illan a salute, he turns and makes his way from the plaza back toward the castle.

James runs through in his mind the various preparations he’s done in anticipation of the upcoming battle. He fervently hopes the items he brought from The Ranch will work the way he anticipates.

After everyone’s finished eating, he meets with the slingers by the tent where his ‘special’ baggage is being stored during their stay. Usually there’s a guard standing out front to keep everyone away, it wouldn’t do to have someone meddle in an area that could kill everyone. Today Terrance has that duty.

He steps inside and leaves with a large sack, the contents bulging the sides. Reaching in, he pulls out a small pouch and begins handing one to each. “Don’t open it now,” he tells them. Each pouch is bound closed with a red twine, all the various pouches and sacks containing his magically imbued crystals are color coated in this manner for easy identification.

When each is holding their pouch, he says, “This will be your initial ammunition. Inside each pouch are three balls of hardened clay. Inside the clay is something, that once it leaves the confines of the sack it is currently within, becomes activated. Once it does, you haven’t much time before it goes off.”

Caleb holds up his pouch and gives it an apprehensive look. The others’ expressions range from worry to excitement.

“So remove one at a time, get it launched toward the enemy, then remove the next and so forth.” He returns within the tent. When he exits again, he hands a long bundle to Devin. “Hold onto this until we get out there. I’ll need you and Moyil to give me a hand setting it up. It’s imperative we get this in position before the enemy launches their attack.”

“I thought we were to attack them?” Terrance asks.

James glances at him and replies, “When they see us march out of the gates, I doubt if they’ll simply allow us all the time in the world to get ready.”

“Yeah, Terry,” Jace says as he elbows him in the ribs.

“Alright, sorry,” Terrance says.

Holding up her pouch to James Delia asks, “Will these be enough to destroy the enemy?”

“Let’s hope so,” he says. “I have a few other surprises as well, but I’ll be in charge of those.” He glances around the assembled group. “When you’ve exhausted the contents of your pouch, start using the slugs. I trust you’ve given each an extra supply?”

Delia nods her head and says, “After this they’ll each be given three score slugs.”

“Good.” He glances over to where Illan and the men-at-arms are gathering and sees that they have already mounted and are waiting for them. “Time to go. Get your slugs and let’s be on our way.”

“Yes, sir,” Delia says and then takes her slingers over to another area where the slugs are stored and gives each their supply.

As they leave, James turns back to the tent and goes inside. Many sacks are still contained within, both magical and non. He removes a crystal from one of the sacks and places it on the floor just inside the entrance. Stepping back out of the tent, he says, “Shield.” A shimmering barrier springs up around the tent, effectively preventing anyone from gaining access to the items contained within. It will last half a day and unless the battle rages longer than that, they should be back in time to post a guard before it fails.

Satisfied, he turns toward where Devin is waiting with his horse. On Devin’s belt, he sees the pouch he gave him already secured there. Slung across his back is a pack, bulging at the bottom from the weight of the slugs Delia gave him.

Taking the reins, James mounts and turns to gaze over the assembled force. Illan’s Black Hawk Raiders all but fill the courtyard. Jiron and his fighters are close, as are Delia and her slingers. Errin and Aleya have been assigned to Hedry and his archers for the duration of the battle.

Miko rides forward and comes to a stop next to him.

“Stay close,” James tells him. Miko nods in reply.

Glancing at his companion since the beginning of this whole adventure, he can’t believe the changes he’s gone through. First, losing his youth to the Fire, and now his demeanor is changing yet again. The Star he carries appears to be mellowing him, he’s become more serious and confident. His playfulness resurfaces every now and then, but those occurrences are growing less frequent.

“Ready?” he asks Miko.

He gives James a grin and says, “Like you always say, ‘No, but I never will be for something like this.’”

James returns his grin and then nods to Illan.

“Move out!” Illan hollers and with James next to him, they leave the plaza. Just behind them comes the rider bearing the flag with the Black Hawk insignia. The sight of the flag gives the men a sense of pride and esprit de corps.

Word must have spread through the night despite their best attempts at secrecy that something was planned for this morning. The streets are lined with people, both soldiers and civilians. Cheers follow them as they progress toward the western gate.

They find the courtyard before the gate crammed with men, the walls are packed tightly with archers. Lord Pytherian stands in the only clear area among the sea of men. Next to him are five men, all five are dressed in matching brown jerkins and pants, each holding a wooden staff. Upon the breast of each is a symbol of a plant encircled by a ring of interwoven leaves superimposed over a gnarled staff.

“Priests of Asran,” Illan says.

James nods his head and remembers the slain priests they came across in Asran’s temple during their foray into Saragon. “Wonder what they are doing here?”

“We’ll soon see,” he says.

They bring their force to a stop before Lord Pytherian who gestures to the priest next to him. “Black Hawk, James, I’d like you to meet Brother Willim.”

The priest steps forward, nods and says, “Glad to make your acquaintance.”

“He and his brothers have come to join the fight against the Empire,” Lord Pytherian explains.

“Many of our brethren have died at the hands of the Empire,” Brother Willim states. “Asran has sent us to aid in whatever way we may.” He indicates his brothers and adds, “We are the Hand of Asran.”

Illan clears his throat and then says, “I thought the priests of Asran were nonviolent.”

“For the most part that is true,” replies Brother Willim. “I and the others you see here are part of an order that fights when necessary to preserve Asran’s name. Sometimes a weed must be pulled or a diseased branch removed.”

James grins at the symbology he uses in describing the Empire. Druids, that’s what they are. “We are more than happy to have those of Asran beside us this day,” he says. “A great battle lies before us, the first of many before we see the lands of Madoc free again.”

The first rays of the morning sun crest the horizon and strike the upper battlements. He dismounts and motions for the other leaders to gather round. Taking out his mirror, he says, “Let’s see the layout of their camp before we begin.”

They gather round, including Brother Willim, as the image shifts and a bird’s eye view of the enemy’s camp appears. Crossbowmen line the palisade and the area behind is filled with men. Currently it doesn’t look as if they’re preparing for battle, they must think none is forthcoming after the night’s events.

“That’s a lot of men,” Jiron says from over his shoulder.

“Yes,” agrees Brother Willim.

Once they have a good idea of the composition of their troops, he scrolls the view further away from the camp. As he moves it along the road leading south, they see another force of foot soldiers marching to reinforce the men outside their walls.

“How far away do you think they are?” James asks.

Lord Pytherian says, “Couple hours at the most. If they ran maybe an hour.”

After another brief scan in the other directions, they find that the men coming from the south are the only other force on the way. Putting away the mirror, James glances around at the others and says, “We better get this over with before they arrive.”

Mounting back upon his horse, he glances around at the sea of faces surrounding him. Hard to believe a year ago all I was worried about was whether or not I studied hard enough to pass the next test. Now I’m leading an army to battle. Dave would have loved this.

To Brother Willim he says, “You and your brothers stay near me.”

Brother Willim nods and falls in behind. Miko comes to ride next to him as does Illan.

“Let’s go,” he says and they move to the gates. A clattering of metal announces the locking mechanism has been released and the gates begin to swing open. Off to the side are four small catapults which a crew of Madoc soldiers will bring forth and line up behind them on the far side of the river. During the meeting last night, Lord Pytherian suggested using them to batter down their palisade. Said it would save lives if James’ forces could gain the other side quickly.

“We need to quickly get the catapults within range of the palisade and be ready should they launch an assault,” he says as he rides through the gates. Moving fast, he breaks his horse into a trot and is soon crossing over the bridge to the far side of the river. The Hand of Asran runs with ease and keeps pace with him.

They make it just past the bridge before the enemy takes notice of them. A flurry of activity is seen on top of the palisade as enemy crossbowmen move into position. The palisade gate swings shut.

“I don’t think they’re planning on coming forth,” Illan says as they reach the point where the catapult’s volley will strike the palisade.

James glances to the enemy fortification, shut tight and daunting. “Let’s get set up first,” he tells him as he dismounts. “Then we’ll see what we can do to draw them out.”

Illan starts organizing their troops while James takes Devin and Moyil, along with the package Devin’s carrying, to an area a dozen yards further toward the palisade. Glancing at the crossbowmen on the walls he hopes they stay put for a few minutes until all is in readiness.

He takes the package and unrolls it on the ground. Within are three six foot staves, each are sharpened on one end. Attached by a leather thong to the other end is a crystal, glowing a deep crimson. One of the staves has a red chord tied to it just beneath the crystal.

Handing Devin and Moyil each a staff, he takes the one with the red chord and moves to center himself before his men. Raising it high, he plunges it into the ground. When he has it secured and not likely to fall over, he says to the other two, “Do the same with yours, ten yards in either direction.

They nod their heads as Devin moves to the right and Moyil moves to the left. Once they reach approximately the specified distance, they turn back and glance to James. When they receive his nod, they drive their staves into the ground. After they’re securely within the ground, he and the boys return to where the others are waiting. Some look at him questioningly about the staves but he gives no explanation.

By this time the catapults are in position, a wagon of large stones stands ready by each. He has Jiron and the fighters from The Ranch station themselves just behind the line of staves. Delia and her slingers are placed just behind them. Brother Willim with his brethren move to stand near James. The Black Hawk banner bearer moves to the fore and stands just past the line of staves. At that a cheer erupts from the Black Hawk Raiders who are arrayed to either side at the rear.

James glances back to the walls of Lythylla. The gate stands open and he knows Lord Pytherian has riders and fighters ready to come to their aid should he require it.

“Cowards!” he hears Stig exclaim when the enemy remains behind their palisade.

“It’s not cowardice to remain behind a fortification,” Illan says loudly. “Why should they meet us in battle when they can defend from a point of strength? It’s obvious we’re going to attack.”

All of the strategies James worked on had one element in common, the enemy was to attack. He’s not sure if what he plans will be as effective going up against a foe that is entrenched behind a protective wall.

An idea comes to him and he has Devin ride back into Lythylla. When Illan raises an eyebrow in question he just grins and shrugs. Shortly after he enters the gates, Devin reappears again followed by several wagons full of barrels.

The wagons roll forward and come to a stop by the catapults. “Oil and pitch,” James finally says to Illan.

“Going to burn the palisade down?” he asks.

“Doubt if it will do that,” he says. “But it will annoy them and give us a smoke screen.” He moves to the officer in charge of the catapults and asks, “Can you hit the wall with the barrels?”

The officer turns and gauges the distance to the palisade and replies, “Might. Not sure how they’ll fly once released.”

“If you can at least get close it will be worthwhile,” he tells him.

“Close for sure,” he says and then has his men begin loading one barrel at a time into each catapult’s cup.

“Fire when you’re ready,” James tells him.

Once all the catapults have a barrel in their cup, the officer yells, “Loose!”

The lever on each is pulled and the arm launches the barrels toward the palisade. Four fall short while one containing tar manages to hit the wall near the gate. A cheer goes up from the men as the arms of the catapults are once again pulled back in place. Another barrel is placed within the cup and let loose.

James watches the second volley fly overhead when all of a sudden he feels the familiar tingling of magic. Atop the palisade, he spies the warrior priest with arms upraised. When the tingling spikes, a fireball materializes as it flies toward the catapults. About to cast a counter spell, he feels another tingle, this one closer.

Brother Willim throws a small, green object into the air and says a few unintelligible words. The object begins to grow as it races toward the oncoming fireball. It grows at an astounding rate and when it encounters the fireball, engulfs it and drags it to the ground.

“Nice,” he hears Jiron say from his position in the front of the group.

The catapults continue their barrage of pitch and oil. James moves to Hedry and asks, “Can one of your archers send a flaming arrow out there?”

“Not a problem,” he replies. Turning to his men, he hollers, “Erik, Jorn, send them a present if you would.”

Having overheard what James had asked Hedry, they remove a piece of cloth. Tearing off four strips, they tie them tightly just behind the arrowheads of four arrows. With a third person bearing a lit torch, they move forward past the line of staves to get within arrow range.

Another fireball flies from the palisade wall, this time aimed at the archers moving forward, and again Brother Willim brings it down.

The archers finally reach the appropriate distance just as another volley of barrels sails over their heads. By this time the area before the palisade is covered in pitch and oil, some of the barrels having managed to strike the walls of the palisade. The torch bearer lights their arrows and they take aim.

Loosing their arrows, two flaming lines of fire streak through the air on a trajectory to land within the flammable material. Just before they close the distance an unnatural gust of wind knocks them awry and they land a dozen yards short. A tingling sensation ran through him just before the wind materialized, indicating the warrior priest was responsible.

“Damn!” curses James. He watches as they aim and loose the last of their modified arrows. As before, when they’re halfway to their target, another gust of wind skews their trajectory and they fall short. The two men and the torch bearer turn about and head back quickly to their lines. A cheer rises from the men manning the palisade.

As another volley of barrels flies overhead, the officer in charge of the catapults says to him, “That’s the last of them.”

“Start with the rocks then,” he tells him.

Nodding, the officer begins having his men fill the catapults with large boulders.

James moves back to where Illan, Ceadric and Jiron are conferring. Jiron looks to him at his approach and asks, “Now what? Looks like we’re stymied.”

“No, we’re not,” he replies. He moves to intercept the torchbearer as he rejoins the others. Before he has a chance to extinguish the torch, James takes it from him. Turning toward the enemy, his shimmering shield springs into being and he begins moving forward.

Brother Willim and his fellows fall into line behind him to follow. He glances back and sees them there. “Stay here with the others,” he tells them.

“No, we go with you,” Brother Willim replies.

Shrugging his shoulders, James continues marching toward the oil and pitch spread across the base of the palisade. A quick look to the palisade shows the warrior priest is no longer there. Where did he go?

As James reaches the range of the crossbowmen lining the walls, a volley of bolts flies forward only to be deflected by his shield. Brother Willim and the others are using their staves to knock the bolts from the air before they can reach them. Small bursts of tingling sensations tell James it’s not skill alone which is allowing the bolts to be deflected by the staves.

He comes to a stop ten feet from the edge of the oil and pitch. With all his might, he throws the torch forward. As the torch leaves his hand, the gates of the palisade open to reveal the warrior priest.

The torch hits the oil and pitch, igniting a raging inferno. The heat from the flames forces him to back away quickly. The Hand of Asran backs away as well. Suddenly from beside him, he hears Brother Willim gasp.

Returning his gaze to the inferno, he sees four creatures emerging from the flames. Half the size of a horse and looking like a large wolf, these creatures turn their red eyes on James and the priests of Asran. One raises its head and howls then all four spring forward.

Dreading another encounter with these creatures, James backs away quickly. Over the winter, he’s worked on various methods to deal with them should he ever encounter them again. He reaches into a small pouch on his belt and removes one of two glowing crystals contained within. Throwing it into the path of the charging creatures, he turns and races away.

Brother Willim and his men turn as well and break into a run.

When the lead creature reaches the crystal, James cries out, “Encase!”

A flash of blue light and the creature becomes encased in a block of ice. The red eyes within begin growing dim as the ice steals the heat, and thus its life, away. The other three bound around the encased creature and continue the pursuit. James tosses down the remaining crystal in their path and a moment later, another of the creatures is immobilized in ice.

“What in god’s name are those?” Ceadric cries out.

“James called them hell hounds,” replies Jiron. When Ceadric draws his sword and makes to go to his aid, Jiron stops him. “Swords won’t harm them,” he explains. “This is something James has to handle on his own.”

Gazing at the events unfolding before him, Ceadric slams his sword back in its scabbard with a curse.

The fire continues to rage, though it is starting to subside now that the fuel sustaining it is being used up. A portion of the palisade is on fire and they can see men working to put it out before it’s destroyed. Black, noxious fumes roll over the battlefield, most of it rolling back over the Empire’s forces.

James turns and faces the remaining creatures, the shield around him shimmers in the sunlight. Just as before, the creatures strike at the shield causing a jump in the amount of magic required to maintain the barrier. This time, however, he uses the knowledge gained from the last time he faced these creatures and the shimmer of the shield turns slightly blue. When one of the creatures again raises a paw to touch the barrier, it pulls it back with a yelp as the coldness of the shield burns it.

The creatures pace around the shield as they try to figure a way in. As they pace, the ground under them suddenly erupts as vines rise from the earth to ensnare them. Casting a look to Brother Willim, he sees the Hand standing several yards away, one of the brothers lost in concentration.

“The warrior priest!” another brother says as he points toward the now dying fire. The flames seem to roll back as a path is cleared through the fire. Making his way through the now cleared area walks the warrior priest.

“You take care of the creatures,” Brother Willim tells James. “We’ll deal with him!”

James nods his head just as the sun overhead is blotted out. Glancing to the sky, he sees a large dark mass approaching from the east. Then the dark mass abruptly descends from the heavens rapidly. At first afraid this may be some ploy of the warrior priest, he’s soon to learn it’s in fact a large flock of birds. Hundreds, thousands of birds consisting of dozens of species both large and small, dive toward the walls above the palisade and begin attacking the crossbowmen and soldiers lining the top. Pecking, scratching, tearing, they stop the hail of bolts that had begun again once the fire subsided enough for them to see.

Distracted by the sight of the birds, he fails to pay close enough attention to the circling creatures. Before he even realizes, they both simultaneously strike the shield. The abrupt spike in magic required to sustain it takes his breath away. The creatures howl in pain as the cold of the shield burns them, but do not relent. They begin pushing their way through, the acrid smoke coming from where the shield burns them fills the inner area of the shield.

Starting to cough, James is finding it more and more difficult to draw a breath without inhaling the nauseating smoke. He increases still further the amount of power to his shield as he drops its temperature. It drops to a certain point and then ceases to fall any further. Having two creatures of fire forcing their way through must inhibit its ability to become colder.

Each of the creatures has a foreleg inside the shield, their snouts now beginning to press through. James knows he can’t prevent them from coming through and when they do, he’s toast. Toast, he almost chuckles at the pun.

He does have one more ploy to attempt, but to do it he’ll have to drop his shield for the required amount of magic he’ll need. The problem there is that when he drops his shield, he’ll have but a split second before the creatures are upon him. Realizing he has no choice, he closes his eyes and prepares.

The sound of an explosion from outside the shield comes to him but he doesn’t allow it to break his concentration. When he’s ready, he turns to face one of the creatures, the other is behind him. As he drops his shield he leaps to the side just as two more shields, one around each of the creatures spring into being.

When his protective shield dropped, the creatures were propelled forward by the force they were exerting to breach the barrier. Then a fraction of a second before they struck each other in the middle where James used to be, the shields encasing each spring into life.

The battle between the warrior priest and the Hand of Asran wages behind him but he doesn’t let that distract him from the creatures before him. Snarling, biting, scratching, the creatures try to escape their confines. Unlike the shield they tried to breach that had surrounded him, these shields move with them sort of like a hamster in an exercise ball. The magic used to sustain them is much less than when they were trying to breach his protective shield.

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.