Chapter Nineteen

Epona, Maere, Avalon, Celestia

On the Plains of Epona

The siege of Hall Mead has raged for many long weeks in the tunnels and aquifers threading through the sprawling maze of courtyards and cobbled streets. Thin spires of smoke rise over the roofs during the day and the walls of the Hall of the Queen echo to the ring of steel blades while the stench of dead Naxen fills the air. At night, sparks rise high into the sky as Naxen raiders set homes ablaze. Few sleep in the city now and where the Silver Ribbon and the Quagmyre rivers merge into one, the water has churned and turned to run the deep rust red of bloodshed, pouring into the ocean as though from an open wound.

Out on the grass plains, Lore urges his brown mare, Castan, into a canter as he carefully sweeps up the flank of the herd, aware the horses can sense what lies before them. Lore leaps nimbly onto the back of his horse and scouts the ground ahead, picking out a path down to the river. The view before him, of the Silver Ribbon rushing its way across the valley floor fills him with a sense of foreboding. Once crossed, they are nearer the city than plains of the Kin and it feels like a point of no return. The river is still shallow enough for the herd to cross easily at this point and, despite the dread he feels, he turns back to the rest of horse herders ranged out around the perimeters and signals to the river. Slowly the herd moves forward towards the fast flowing waters and for a while, Lore can think of nothing but making sure the great horse herd of Epona makes it safely to the other side.

Two nights ago, an exhausted messenger with dire news from the city, reached the valley where Lore's herd was grazing. The battle was almost done, many Horse Chiefs were dead or injured, the Valkyr all but vanquished and the fall of the city imminent. The messenger was spreading the word for the Kin to disperse deep into the forests and hills, as far from the Naxenlands as they could get. To save themselves from the impending disaster about to befall Hall Mead when the shadowing falls and the Gate of the Twins opens for the Dragon King.

To run and hide. The words had stuck in Lore's chest as sharp as a dagger, run and hide leaving the city and his twin, Kyna to fall to the Naxen? Lore had roughly pushed his way through the gathering crowd of herders and, standing on an upturned water bucket, started to speak out against the messenger.

'No! I will not leave our Kin to be slaughtered in the city by the scourge of Naxen nor will I run and hide like a scared child but fight like a Horse Chief, I will not let Hall Mead fall!'

'And how are you going to fight the hordes of Naxen little Lore? I can barely see you over the shoulders of our fellow herders! It is madness to return to the city, we should flee as the messenger is telling us too.' A ripple of nervous laughter spreads through the group at the reply to Lore's outburst.

'My sister is fighting in the city with the Valkyr, I will not leave her to her death!'

'She is probably dead already, Lore. We must protect the herd. We should move the horses north tomorrow.' Another voice calls out.

'And when Hall Mead falls, what then? When the gate opens and the Naxen call upon Nixor, the Dragon King to return. What then? Do you think a forest or a hill is going to save you? The Kin of Epona do not run from battle, do not leave their people to be slaughtered...'

'But we are not trained fighters Lore and we have few weapons, how can we repel an army of Naxen with just our horses?' The question hangs in the air as the herders all digest Lore's words.

'The horses! The horses are our weapon. We will run the horses.' Lore excitedly jumps up, forgetting he is balanced on a bucket and nearly toppling over.

'Run the horses?'

'Yes, we will run the horses through the city, they will crush the Naxen for us!'

A murmur of approval runs through the herders and soon there is no more talk of running away, only talk of a great stampede to wipe the Naxen from the face of Epona once and for all.

In the Nightmaere Realms of Maere

A hunger crawls through the Morrigna wraiths on Maere. Once in the thrall of Nixor the Dragon King, they became lost, turning to shadows and ghosts, while he passed the centuries imprisoned on Celestia. But now, after long centuries in torment, the two suns are turning away and when the moonshadow falls and the Infernus Gate opens, he will return and they will sate their hunger across the four worlds and once again, the Army of the Dragon King will fly.

Deep in the Nightmaere Realms, in the carved caverns and lava tubes of the old volcanoes ringing the planet, the Morrigna gather, a murmuring flock of half-lights and hunger. The Infernus Gate lies in the largest volcanic crater on Maere, long ago emptied of its magma and filled with ink-blue waters reflecting the glassy volcanic rock and deep sky overhead. As the suns set on the eve of the moonshadow, the wraiths start their journey through the mountains to the gate, to wait for their king.

The Sands of Time on Avalon

The equinox alignment of the four worlds is a time for a rebalancing of the celestial mechanisms controlling the flux of time itself. The Sands of Time, the mystical flowing current the Magi have used to prolong their lives in the pursuit of knowledge, is in high flood, whirling at the very edge of the stargate pool, strange ripples and waves running across its surface, searching for the Magus to reset the clock, reclaim the years taken and rebalance the magik of Avalon.

At the Stargate on Celestia

Ninian dreams he can feel the flow of the Sands of Time deep in his bones, calling him back. 'Not yet, not yet!' he cries as his ancient flesh finally dissolves to dust. 'Too soon! It is not done yet! The Dragon still breathes!' He awakes with a jolt as though falling and is relieved to find he is still in one piece, chilled to the core but still whole. A mist rises from the Stargate pool and, through the trees, the thin dawn is breaking, the day of the Equinox has arrived. Ninian coughs loudly to wake Aelix, then rolls over and pretends to sleep. If it is to be his last day in the realm of the living, he will not waste it on mundane chores, someone else can cook the breakfast for him today.