|
For nearly an hour nothing happened. Then a mist began to descend upon the city, thin at first then growing denser and denser as the minutes passed. Soon it was impossible to make out the city through the fog. "Well?" asked Arieadnie. "Aren't you going to cast a spell to make me fly too?" asked the Trankor sarcastically. "You can do that yourself you lazy lizard!" said Arieadne, "Now get up there and clear those walls. We have to take this misserable city." "Yes, oh mistress of darkness. Your wish is my command. Shall I pick you up a dozen roses while I'm at it?" "Yes," replied Arieadne her eyes like fire. The Trankor gave a start and then grumbling magically floated up towards the city. Arieadne watched as the Trankor disappeared into the fog. How I wish I didn't need that lizard. As soon as I have enough men I'll put him off in some cave somewhere, he's not worth the bother of killing. Not yet anyway. The Trankor floated silently through the thick fog Arieadne's magic had created. He could hear echoes of whispered words from the men guarding the city's walls. None of them concerned him. For once in his life he wished he possessed the fire breathing of dragons. Their scaley hides would be nice too. Despite Arieadne's calling him lizard he was far from it. He had a thick hardened skin that covered his body much like armor and a long tail that he used for balance and as a weapon. He floated above the walls of the city and looked for the perfect place to land and attack. He found a spot well away from the gates that would attract enough of the men, without overwhelming him, at the south corner. He floated out of the mist and killed the two guards stationed there before they knew what was on them. Damn! I was supposed to have drawn the guards here. Stupid guards couldn't even put up a fight. "HEY YOU SLIMEBALLS! YOU'RE FREAKIN' WALLS BEEN BREACHED!" The sound of his voice boomed through the fog startling the soldiers. Then they charged. The Trankor crouched down and prepared for the assault. The first soldier to reach him died quickly as he reached out and snapped his neck with a quickness that belied his size. The bloodlust of battle raced through veins, he was no longer thinking of providing a distraction for Arieadne and her army but only of killing and survival. The men rushed him with swords drawn. The Trankor used his claws and tail to rip and club. The sounds of screams echoed through the air.
Franslith slid through barracks of the army of Scythe. His head was beaded with sweat and he looked over his shoulder often. Damn that witch for making me do this. I had better not get any blood on this robe. I hate the sight of blood. He saw two guards standing at the gathouse through the fog. He let two beams of magical energy go at the guards, who immediately dropped to the grown dead. He ran into the gatehouse and locked the doors. So far so good, and no blood to boot.
Arieadnne watched as her men moved into position closer to the wall. Their armor had all been padded to move silently through the dense fog. She knew the Trankor would be doing its job of distracting the guards on the walls. She was less sure of Franslith but there was little she could do about that now. She had asked him to open the gates but if he couldn't do the job she was sure someone else would. Silently she waited for the signal. She sat straight upon her horse, surrounded by only a handful of select guards. Watching and waiting for the signal from the wizard.
A figure clothed in all black entered the hallway of the palace first. The shouts from the men behind the doors could be heard even here. The room behind that door was guarded heavily. Not surprising seeing as every important person of note was behind those doors. The man in black smiled. Lambs at the slaughter. "I don't give two damns about the fog or this supposed pet of hers. I'm not giving up the city!" said a voice. "Nobody's asking you to! But at least hear her out! We need more time!" replied another. "Speak for yourself Rodberry! I for one do not need any more time! All this bloody fighting on the borders means we won't be getting any help from the king's army any time soon. Save the blood shed man! Surrender!" A loud commotion shouting down the surrender drowned out any other voices. The man in black chose that time to strike. The first kill was his by right and by honor. The other four would follow quickly behind he knew but battle would not be joined until an enemy lay dead. Or he did. There were ten guards to his one, not counting the four that followed behind. The man in black moved like lightening. The first strike going to him as did the second and third. One man lay clutching his arm before any of the other guards were able to swing to attack. He parried the one blow, ducked another and turning blocked a third. They sought to trap him and bring him down. Good strategy, if they could get around him. He made sure they wouldn't have the chance. He struck out and stabbed his sword through the throat of a guard who had not even been in the first attack. The startled man was dead before he even knew he was a target. The man in black's four companions appeared and soon the guards all lay dead on the halls floor. First kill had been his again. "It doesn't matter what she has. She still has to get inside the walls!" The doors banged open causing all heads to turn. Then the arrows flew in from five bows. The whizz of flying arrows was followed by the crys of dying men. The room seemed to fill with arrows, surely there had to be more than five bowmen and what of the guards? Shocked thoughts sped through the mind of the men assembled in the room to plan the defense of the city. Who are these men? Why are they attacking us? What's going on? My wife, my children, my god! Arrows stuck into the flesh of the men causing pain and seeking blood. Her!!!!! Shocked recognition came as a dying thought. She's gotten inside the walls!
Franslith looked at the mechanism for raising the gate, a simple lever attatched to heavy cogs with moved the thick wood and iron gates. He pulled the lever and could hear the gates slowly creak up. Satisfied that they were moving he set off a small fire within the gatehouse. That should stop anyone from trying to lower the gate before Arieadnne and her army gets in. Quickly he stepped out of the gatehouse and ran from the gatehouse.
The Trankor stood amongst a pile of dead and dying men and armor. A pause in the fighting gave him a short time to catch his breath and access the situation. He flexed his claws as he watched the men gather outside of his reach. He knew they were planning to charge or else to send arrows in at him at any moment. The situation was turning bad and it was time for him to get out. He dived off of the battlement into the fog filled courtyard. He could hear a few arrows buzz by as he landed in the courtyard in a pile of hay. Where the hell is Arieadnne and that damn army of hers? He spun looking for a place to defend himself from the assault that was sure to come.
Arieadnne sat on her horse waiting for the signal. She could hear the sound of the gates rising echoing through the fog, yet still she had not recieved the magical signal from the wizard. If he's gotten himself killed I'll find him in hell and make him pay. She sat fuming on her horse, there was too much that could go wrong. That cursed, slimey slug of a wizard. He'll pay oh he'll pay. The army grew restless around her. They too knew things could go wrong. They, unlike Arieaddne were closer to the wall and were more likely to suffer with their lives if something did go wrong. Finally Arieadnne recieved heard the mage in her head. "The gates are open!" He sounded winded. Probably running from his own shadow, Ariadnne sneered.
Click here to read the next part. |