Author's Note: Please see disclaimer in Chapter 5. Umm, well at least it's longer? I will have more Talen/Aphrael action in the next chapter, which I started before this one, but it got confusing so I decided to finish this one first, so stay tuned for the next one. I am about half-way through it so it should be up this week.
I absolutely love reviews and suggestions so please keep them coming!!
Chapter 6: Surrounded (continued)
"Prince Sparhawk we have a problem."
Sparhawk woke up to a rough hand shaking his shoulder. He rolled over to see one of his captains leaning over him with a lantern and an incredulous expression. The Pandion Champion slowly rubbed his eyes and sat up from his small cot.
"What is it Hendle?" Sparhawk asked his captain.
"We were hoping perhaps you could tell us. None of us can really make any sense out of it," Hendle answered. Sparhawk rolled out of his cot and reached for his armor. Dirkeim beat him to it. Appearing out of nowhere his squire handed him his breastplate, followed by gleaming gauntlets and Sparhawk swiftly suited up.
"Do you know what's going on Dirkeim?" Sparhawk asked.
His squire shook his head his expression bemused. "There are lights in the sky…strange ones, they don't look natural. I've never seen anything like it milord," Dirkeim frowned meeting Sparhawk's eyes. Sparhawk laid a reassuring hand on the young man's shoulder as he stood to see what caused his captain and squire such concern.
It was apparent as soon as the grim Pandion stepped out the tent. The few soldiers that were awake at the early hour had their eyes fastened on the sky, riveted to the sight. Sparhawk looked up following the sentries' line of vision and suppressed a gasp at what he saw. The stars glistened in their usual diamond-like appearance, but the normally ebony sky was streaked with lavender and indigo sheets that pulsated and shimmered with vibrant color. The hues ebbed and flowed across the sky like the rocking waves of the ocean.
With difficulty Sparhawk tore his gaze away from the entrancing expanse and frowned pondering the strangely shifting sky. He turned to his squire who was still staring up in wonder.
"Dirkeim go wake up Ulath quickly!"
With a curt nod Dirkeim set off in the direction of the Genidian camp. A few minutes later he returned rubbing his jaw with a disgruntled looking Ulath close behind. Sparhawk raised an eyebrow at the scowling blonde knight. His hair was unbound from its usual braids and the pale locks rivaled Ehlana's in length.
"I really hope whatever you want was important enough to wake me. I was having a really nice dream…" he growled.
"Perhaps about a certain dressmaker?" Dirkeim said coolly, continuing to rub at his jaw.
Ulath's scowl deepened as he turned a shade of red so bright it could be seen in the darkness.
"I think, sir Dirkeim…" he said very slowly, menace dripping from every word, "…that it would be best if you refrained from talking to my niece so often. Otherwise your continuing health might be in danger… not to mention the use of a working jaw."
Sparhawk chose to clear his throat at that moment, heading off a potential argument. Finally obtaining the slightly hostile Genidian's attention, Sparhawk pointed at the sky.
"Ulath, does that look anything like the lights you get up in Thalesia?" he asked.
The tall knight looked up, whistling lightly before answering. "Somewhat," he finally said. "But the ones in Thalesia are green and they streak the sky; they don't blanket it," he continued, turning back to Sparhawk. "How long has this been going on?" he asked.
"The sentries noticed it an hour into fifth watch," Dirkeim said, returning to his observation of the sky. Sparhawk frowned. He had hoped Ulath would be able to shed some insight on the odd spectacle. With a battle that would be starting up in a matter of hours, Sparhawk had to know whether or not he should be concerned about the strange phenomena. Coming to a decision he didn't particularly like, he began making the gestures to summon Aphrael.
"Make it quick, Sparhawk, I'm busy."
"Sorry Flute," Sparhawk thought silently, "But I have this small problem of an army advancing, remember?" The goddess gave a long-suffering sigh.
"Nothing major," Sparhawk continued, "But the sky looks strange. Wavering and shimmering in bright colors. It's so ostentatious that it practically screams Styric," he added.
"Be nice Sparhawk," said a huffy voice next to him. Where one moment there was only air, a beautiful Styric girl stood next to him, pipes in her hand as she looked up at the sky.
She frowned biting distractedly on a lock of hair. Finally she shook her head, coming to some sort of conclusion.
"It's not an illusion, but it's not natural either. I'll be back; Setras knows more about these things than I do."
The child-goddess abruptly vanished leaving Sparhawk groaning. If there was any Styric god more frustrating to deal with besides Flute it was her cousin, Setras. Several minutes later she arrived with the perpetually befuddled god in tow. She was speaking to him rapidly in an unfamiliar language and gesturing expansively at the sky. Setras looked up and bit his lip as his eyebrows contracted in thought. That action appeared to be painful for the handsome god. Finally he nodded and looked down at Flute.
"Echelessa." He said.
Sparhawk had never seen that reaction in the child-goddess. First she gasped, and then she went very pale, opening her mouth twice before any words came out. The things that did come out of her mouth were barely comprehensible even though she spoke in Styric. She was shaking Setras by the shoulder as he shook his head adamantly, eyes tinged with fright.
"I'm sure Aphrael," Setras said, his voice quivering. "She's the only one who could do it…that type of thing is completely beyond me, when protons get to that energy state it takes incredible precision to get them to react properly," he rambled on nervously.
"Flute!" Sparhawk ordered crisply to get her attention, "What is Echelessa?" he asked.
Flute looked up at Sparhawk silently, her eyes wide with a look that resembled fear, and shook her head violently refusing to answer his question. The Pandion knight folded his arms and glared at her.
"I want an answer now Flute," he pressed implacably.
An inhuman shriek pierced the air jerking Sparhawk from his impatient wait. He looked up to the violet hued sky following the path of the sound.
A large creature filled the purple sky, its visage as black as ebony. It had a solid form, but its outlines were blurred with clouds of greasy black smoke. It had a long snake-like head and appendages protruding from its back that might have once been wings. A thin line of pulsating red cracked along the head, then opened wider as the thing shrieked again.
"What in god's name is that?" asked Dirkeim.
"That's Echelessa's pet Onyx," Flute supplied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll take care of it," she continued nodding resolutely. With that she lifted her pipes to her mouth and started playing a complicated melody that modulated between major and minor keys.
The beast in the sky seemed to take notice of the sound and began to twitch back and forth. Suddenly, several bright lights appeared in the sky. They stretched to form bright rents in the indigo sky, bleeding with pale light.
Sparhawk rubbed his eyes as forms emerged from the tears. They were various familiar- looking animals, sharing the single distinguishing characteristic of incandescent white coloring. He immediately recognized the doe and with a start realized that other creatures from Aphrael's reality had also appeared.
A hulking white tiger emerged from one of the light tears. His coat gleaming with otherworldly brilliance, the pale tiger bounded for the Onyx. Easily closing the distance the black-striped tiger inclined running through air as if it were a solid surface. With an earth-shattering roar the tiger barreled straight into the raging monster. The tiger's formidable weight caused the Onyx to recoil, while at the same time a pure white eagle with gold tipped wings dove down into the top of the Onyx's back, opening a gash in the creature. The wound sprouted strange scarlet clouds instead of normal blood.
The fight that ensued was ugly. Aphrael's creatures outnumbered the Onyx, but Echelessa's pet was enormous and easily batted away the attacking animals. All the while Flute's pipes played in the background, and even as her attacking animals were injured, the dire looking wounds would close up and the creatures would rise to attack again.
The strange battle finally ended when the tiger ripped open the throat of Onyx, the creature's inhuman scream cut off. The black shape wavered and fell apart, dissipating into the air. The blankets covering the sky rolled back and the stillness of night returned.
Flute continued to play for a few minutes as her animals returned back to the light tears and vanished. Finally the light itself began to pulsate and shrink until it too was gone. The child-goddess lifted her pipes from her mouth as she finished playing and sighed deeply.
"It starts." she said sadly. Grabbing Setras around the arm she vanished without another word.
The sun crested the horizon an hour later without any sign of the approaching army. Sparhawk remained awake, unwilling to sleep after the previous battle. Flute's final words echoed around his mind, putting the Pandion Champion on edge. Sparhawk was certain he could handle something as simple as a normal army, but supernatural elements made him wish he still had Sephrenia around. Bereft of Bhelliom Sparhawk was at a disadvantage around these things even if he had the cumbersome title of Anakha.
Sparhawk spent the morning inspecting the trenchworks. Ulath had worked the diggers late into the night to finish, and the Genidian knight had added quite a few surprises for the approaching enemies. Trenches cutting through the middle of the field, there was plenty of room for the mounted knights to charge and flank the enemy cutting off any room to maneuver. The trenches provided the covering needed for the Pandion and Genidian archers to pick off the front lines and then retreat to the next line.
After the first line of trenches was complete Ulath had grinned evilly and suggested that the diggers fill them back in with loosely packed soil and grass. After that the whole surface was carefully disguised to look like the rest of the ground. The archers were all given stakes to leave within the trenches in addition to the ones set up in front.
It was far from perfect, but it was defensible enough. According to the Genidian scouts, the numbers of the approaching force was larger than initial estimated; Sparhawk's force was outnumbered roughly five to three. It shouldn't be a major problem as the scouts reported only a third of the force was mounted while the rest were infantry. Sparhawk's jaw flexed. He hated fighting on so much open ground. The lack of cover made the Pandion slightly apprehensive.
Apparently he wasn't the only one who was tense. Komier was busy bellowing last minute orders to his soldiers as his men darted around trying to please their irritated preceptor.
"Good morning, Komier." Sparhawk greeted the shouting Genidian.
"Prince Sparhawk," Komier nodded a quick greeting, then promptly went back to shouting.
Accepting that he wasn't likely to receive much conversation from him, Sparhawk set off to find Ulath. The blonde knight was standing over several of the trenches, his arms crossed as he studied them for last minute adjustments.
"I think your enjoy this more than you let on," Sparhawk observed.
"It's the novelty of it…pretty difficult digging a trench when the ground is frozen solid," Ulath answered shrugging.
Sparhawk nodded. "They look like they'll slow the…"
The Pandion was cut off as several knights raced toward him. The enemies had arrived.
--
Whoever had romanticized war as a poetic field full of invincible knights beating down monstrous enemies had obviously never been in a real battle. The fighting was far from glorious. The knights were well trained and formidable, but their number would be fewer when the battle was over. Most would carry fresh scars to compliment old ones, not to mention the inner lacerations. Their enemies were men, and men had faces, men had regrets and those faces and those regrets haunted those whose stern duty was to snuff out the light of the living.
Death was administered in a messy cacophony of chopping and thrusting and severing of vital limbs. Thanatos came not with a scythe, but with swords and lances and stakes.
The trenches, along with its hidden surprises, were a major success. The front lines of the attacking mercenaries fell completely for the trap. The soldiers following tumbled over their comrades, bringing the advance to a minor standstill. This left the archers to pick off the exposed enemies at their leisure.
What Sparhawk had not anticipated, however, was the experience of the approaching force. It sorted itself out in short order, continuing to advance, and never falling for the same trick twice. The archers and other knights on infantry duty had pulled back to the third line of the trenches. As midday approached, half the approaching forces were down, but the reserves hadn't been sent in, meaning they still had two thirds to clear.
The men were tiring. If the battle wasn't complete tonight there would be a problem. Supplies were low and the defensive lines were continuing to retreat. However, the approaching force had time on their side; they had been slowly and meticulously pushing the Pandion defense back without sacrificing their numbers. Sparhawk looked around. He had to find a way to get the enemy to commit their reserves now.
He thought for a moment and came up with it, but he would need help. Sephrenia had done something like it a few times before but she had better concentration than he did. Spotting his squire further down, he called to the young man.
"Milord?" asked Dirkeim as he galloped over.
"I need at least five Pandions advanced in the Secrets. Get three for me and tell them to meet me due east beside the eleventh line." Sparhawk instructed quickly. With that Sparhawk rode east picking up the other Pandions on the way over.
Dirkeim and the three others joined him shortly.
"Alright, we are going to create an illusion of three more Pandion contingents. They will be split into two groups on flanking either side of our trenches," Sparhawk pointed, indicating the trenches where men where fighting.
"I'll start the illusion, all you have to do is hold it until the enemy commits his reserves. Got it?" he asked. The men nodded and Sparhawk set to work weaving his fingers in the intricate gestures to create the illusion. Soon the other Pandions picked it up spreading the illusion to create more men and more noise.
Only a few of the other knights looked up in confusion. Apparently, Dirkeim was quickly spreading the word about the plan. Absently, Sparhawk noticed his squire had left when he started the illusion, but couldn't afford to divert his focus from what he was doing. The illusion was held for three quarters of an hour before the enemy committed the reserves.
Signaling business as usual, the Pandions and Genidians did what church knights do best; hacking, slashing and chopping. However, for some reason, Sparhawk felt ill at ease even as he broke through line after line of well-trained mercenaries. Then he looked up and saw something that nearly made his heart stop.
Dirkeim was surrounded.
Dirkeim had been severely wounded with a concussion and several broken ribs. He was on a cot in a pavilion set up for the wounded. No matter how many times Sparhawk had tried to summon Aphrael, the child goddess would not respond, leaving the Pandion Champion deeply troubled.
So he sat, head in his hands, wondering once again this week whether or not he would lose one of Kurik's son. Ulath sat quietly nearby, content to offer company without forced conversation. Suddenly a loud commotion outside and sound of galloping hoof beats caught Sparhawk attention.
Rising swiftly he ran down to the end of the tent, Ulath right on his heels. Outside several Pandions surrounded a rider who Sparhawk recognized as Rhamik, Kurik's second eldest. As soon as the rider saw Sparhawk, he dismounted and ran over.
The young man bore several cuts and bruises and the dark circles under his eyes indicated that he had been riding non-stop for several hours.
"Milord…the…chapterhouse…" he began breathing heavily and swaying.
Sparhawk grabbed the young man by the shoulders to steady him. "Rhamik what's wrong? What's going on?"
The young knight looked up, his eyes bright and slightly feverish.
"Milord, the chapterhouse is under siege."