Authors: Jason McWhirter
The magical blade easily sank through the steed’s armor, slicing through the animals shoulder muscle. The horse reared up, stumbling backwards before it pitched side long to the ground.
Arg’on jumped off the horse and landed hard on his side, but he was a tough warrior who had survived many battles. Few men could match his strength. He rolled backwards and came up quickly to face the horseman with the axe.
Graggis quickly dismounted from his horse and stood in front of the tribesman. He couldn’t help but think what a great specimen of a man this tribesman was. He was tall and heavy, with iron hard muscle. The warrior wore a metal-laced skirt that was cinched tightly around his narrow waist. His legs and arms were so corded with muscles that he almost looked deformed. He held his huge blade easily with one hand, his face a picture of confidence.
“I wouldn’t want anyone to think that I had an unfair advantage in killing you,” Graggis said as he attacked the tribesman with fury.
The fight was intense. Both warriors were skilled and strong. They traded blow for blow for several minutes, the power of each strike echoing across the battlefield. They had similar styles, both used to crushing their opponents with strength and speed, but after several minutes of hard fighting, Graggis noted a difference.
The tribesman was undisciplined in his fighting, accustomed to using his strength and power to destroy anyone who stood against him. Graggis, however, had been trained as a Finarthian Knight, trained by Master Borum, the greatest weapons master around, and they had learned not only discipline, but tactics that were beyond most common warriors.
Graggis noticed that Arg’on held his sword with his right hand only, making him a bit slow in defending his left flank. Graggis swung his axe left and right and looked for an opening. But the man was fast and strong as an ox. When their weapons met the earth around them shook. Graggis had never met a man whose strength equaled his own, until now. But Graggis now knew the tribesman’s weakness and he worked to exploit it. Arg’on swung his huge sword down, Graggis brought his axe up to block the attack. Just as the warrior retracted his blade, Graggis tossed his axe to his left hand and attacked the tribesman’s left flank with lightning speed.
Arg’on recovered quickly, and frantically deflected the axe blade. But Graggis’s attack had been a ruse. As he attacked the tribesman’s left flank with his axe, he swung his gauntlet covered right hand into the side of the powerful warrior. His fist struck the tribesman solidly in the kidney.
Normally such a blow would cause little damage, for the tribesman’s waist was protected by thick muscle. But he had never before encountered a man with such strength.
The blow crushed his kidney and he keeled over from the pain, bracing his fall with his sword arm. He gritted his teeth through the pain and looked up to fend off the deadly axe man. But all he saw was the razor sharp edge of Graggis’s axe as it split his astonished expression in two.
The huge tribesman fell heavily to the ground. “I’ll take a pint of Annurien mead when you see me next,” Graggis said as he yanked his blade clear of the grisly mess.
Back at the infantry’s center, Kiln had become the point of a wedge of the small group of Finarthian infantry that had followed him into the enemy ranks. He let the undisciplined tribesmen break themselves on the wedge point, forcing them to the sides of the formation where more Finarthian warriors were there to meet them.
He stopped advancing and held the point as he fought one enemy after another. He knew that if he advanced too far the enemy would surround them and crush them. He put some faith in the Finarthian commanders and hoped that they would see the wedge and move in to support them.
Kiln spun and pivoted as his blades cut into the enemy warriors. No one could touch him as he moved effortlessly, killing any tribesman that neared him. Rorum and the others fought furiously next to him. Kiln’s very presence seemed to give the men new hope, and they fought on, well past the point where their sword arms and lungs should have given out.
Prince Baylin had never been more afraid. He couldn’t move as the deadly trio moved closer to him. The lead warrior spurred his black horse forward and the prince shifted his gaze to the horrible animal.
It was huge, a full pace bigger than any warhorse Baylin had ever seen, with a coat that was thick and covered with sweat. Its long black mane was tangled with knots, but it was the animal’s eyes and mouth that made Prince Baylin realize that this was no ordinary horse. Glowing red eyes, like those of its master, peered out over a mouth that opened to expose long razor sharp teeth embedded in gums the color of congealed blood.
“Do you know what I am?” hissed the Banthra. The Banthra’s voice drifted towards the prince and danced around in his mind as he struggled against the magic that was paralyzing him.
Prince Baylin redirected his gaze to the warrior and used every ounce of inner strength to answer the demon. “You are a Banthra, a fallen cavalier corrupted by magic,” replied the prince as he swallowed the knot growing in his throat.
The Banthra hissed again and the big black horse shifted uneasily beneath him. “And you are Prince Baylin, next in line for the throne of Finarth, a position that you will not be filling.”
At that moment a dazzling white light burst forth from the fighting men behind the prince. Two huge horses parted the milling mass of warriors, completely washing the area with a light that shone with the brilliance of the sun. The warhorses carried magnificent warriors wearing gleaming silver plate mail and glittering steel helms that hid their identity.
The Banthra hissed loudly as it shifted in the saddle. The demon’s horse growled menacingly and pranced backwards a few steps. The riders that flanked him also moved uneasily in their saddles, retreating several steps away from the light. These riders were dark clerics of the Forsworn and each wore similar armor and spiked helms, both cursed by the dark magic of the three evil gods.
Jonas and Taleen urged their horses forward as their light flared even brighter, sending rays of hope into the fighting men around them. Enemy warriors moved away, the light from the cavaliers frightening them into a panic. Finarthian soldiers around them looked up in awe as they gazed at the cavaliers. As the light washed over them, all fear and fatigue evaporated. They stood taller, gripping their weapons with new strength and confidence.
Jonas drew forth his second saber, not needing his hands to control his magnificent mount. Tulari took him directly towards the Banthra.
Taleen pulled back the string of her powerful bow and sighted the arrow as her horse approached the evil warriors without the slightest bounce. The ability to fire a bow from a riding horse was a skill reached by few, and even amongst cavaliers it was rare.
“Cavaliers!” hissed the Banthra.
The two priests gripped their long lances angling their sharp tips toward the approaching threat. The shafts of the lances were smooth and black and the steel points were as long as a short sword, dark in color with a sharp edge that sparkled like silver in contrast to the black metal. Just as they brought their weapons to bear, two arrows slammed into one of the priests, both hitting him in the chest. The magical bolts sunk in deep and the priest’s enchanted armor could not protect him against Taleen’s blessed arrows. He fell from his horse, landing heavily on the ground.
As the cavaliers galloped past the prince, their white light blanketed the area, evaporating the oppressive fear that had immobilized him. In control of his body again, the prince quickly moved his horse away from the Banthra as Jonas flew at the demon, both sabers held before him.
The Banthra hissed angrily as the God Light washed over him. He drew forth a deadly looking battle axe that was bladed on one end, opposed by a long spike on the other.
Jonas’s heart pounded in his chest as he drew near the black knight. He screamed Shyann’s name, pushing away his fear and urging Tulari forward. Jonas did not have much combat experience, and facing a Banthra as an untried cavalier had filled him with fear. But he remembered his training with Kiln, and he thought of his connection with Shyann, forcing the uneasy thoughts away.
Taleen expertly sheathed her bow on Kormac’s side and drew forth her sword as she closed the distance to the second priest. He lifted his lance and whispered several words of power. The lance head glowed red shooting forth a stream of red orange flames toward her.
Her horse pivoted at the last minute, the flames shooting by her, but cinging the side of her horse and her right leg. Taleen grimaced, her God Light shining brightly as she brought her sword down towards the evil priest. He backed away from the light, lifting his magical lance to block the blow. Taleen swung her sword expertly, attacking the retreating priest left and right, trying to score a killing blow.
As Tulari rammed into the demon horse, Jonas didn’t waste any time in attacking. His twin sabers worked independently as Tulari guided him perfectly around the Banthra. Jonas had never been on a horse such as Tulari and he had no idea what the horse was capable of. Luckily he didn’t have to know. Tulari needed no guidance as he positioned Jonas perfectly as the two combatants traded blow for blow.
But the dark warrior’s horse was no ordinary animal. The beast used its massive head to bash Tulari in his flanks, trying to get him off balance so its master could destroy the cavalier. But Tulari’s size and strength allowed him to shake off the blows, hammering his own head and shoulders into the beast. The Banthra wielded its axe to fend off the attacks as both animals danced left and right, tearing up grass and dirt, trying to gain an advantage.
Prince Baylin was an experienced warrior and he didn’t waste his good fortune. He rejoined the fight, fighting off any enemy cavalry that neared the battling cavaliers. It wasn’t long before Dagrinal galloped up to the prince on his tired warhorse, his sword wet with enemy blood. “Lord, I tried to get near you when the Banthra approached, but I was surrounded by enemies,” the weary warrior said as the chaos of battle whirled around them.
“Thankfully the cavaliers intervened. I could not even move against that abomination,” the prince replied as he scanned the battle field.
Both men pivoted their warhorses back and forth as they spoke, ready to attack their foes and hoping the cavaliers had changed the tide of battle in their favor.
Things were looking better. The center was holding, although the prince was not sure how. The cavaliers had given the men a jolt of hope and the fighting seemed to be swinging in their favor.
“Is that Jonas?” asked Dagrinal in astonishment.
“I don’t know. I can’t tell under that horned helm he is wearing. I don’t recognize the female cavalier either,” replied the prince as four boargs leaped over the heads of several nearby fighting men and ran towards the two warriors. The animals moved with lighting speed and Dagrinal and Prince Baylin lifted their weapons to defend themselves as their horses positioned them to face the charge.
Jonas and the Bantrha maneuvered their huge horses side by side, exchanging blow for blow, their magical weapons meeting in a shower of sparks.
In one close exchange, the Banrtha was able to reach down and grasp Jonas’s leg with its gauntleted hand, and at the same time deflect one of Jonas’s swords. The Banthra’s fist glowed red, sending a burst of burning energy into the cavalier.
Jonas screamed and Tulari bolted backwards away from the demon. His leg was badly burned but he didn’t have time to heal himself for the Banthra quickly attacked again. The demon came in with its axe raised, ready for a killing blow.
Jonas saw the blow coming and instinctively used his IshMian powers, stopping the blade in mid-swing, immobilizing the demon’s entire arm in energy that only he could see. Jonas worried about using the power so early in the fight, as the toll in doing so could be too great, causing him severe headaches, and in some cases debilitating him. But the blow came so quick that Jonas had no choice.
The puzzled Banthra had little time to try and figure out why his axe wouldn’t move. Jonas took advantage of the brief pause and lunged with his right saber, driving his blade deep into the shoulder of the Banthra.
The demon hissed and dropped the axe to the ground as its steed jumped back from the attack. The Banthra then lifted both hands and screamed several words of power that Jonas did not recognize. Jonas sensed what was coming and used his mental powers to quickly create a swirling shield of energy in front of him. An observer would have seen an iridescent wall of bluish magic swirling before him.
The Banthra’s flames shot forth from his hands, hitting the wall with an explosion. The power was immense and it was all Jonas could do to maintain the mental shield. His head pounded from the pain of using his powers to hold back the burning flames conjured by something as powerful as a Banthra. But he clenched his teeth and willed the energy wall to hold. He could feel the heat of the magical fire through the shield, but none of the deadly flames struck him.
Taleen was struggling against the dark priest. The evil priest used his lance perfectly, deflecting every blow that Taleen sent his way, but he was tiring. Taleen kept at it furiously, her God Light gradually draining the energy from the dark warrior.
Then the priest used his warhorse to give him some time, forcing the animal to rear up and attempting to bring its front hooves down on top of Taleen. Her steed reacted quickly, perfectly maneuvering away just in time. The deadly hooves didn’t find their mark, but it gave the priest a few precious moments to cast his spell.