The Exodus Sagas: Book III - Of Ghosts And Mountains (67 page)

The three on the east slope over the pass crept carefully along the ridge. James looked across to Shinayne, she had noticed and was doing the same. They watched the Mogi talking to one another, guttural shouts between shamans, pointing at the gray minotaur, but still no charge.

Saberrak saw his friends moving slowly north, he did not flinch. He stood. He waited. There was no city, no words, no trap or army that could break his focus. He smelled smoke, burning stone and rock, he did not care. These Mogi had chased him and his friends for too long, they needed to die. It was the arena, a stone valley with no spectators, but to Saberrak he was home in Unlinn. Outnumbered, outmatched in size, but his enemies always fell. Each one of their many horned heads started to look like Chalas Kalaza. Saberrak growled from deep within, and then he took a step and roared with both axes over his head. He wanted them to come. Just thirty feet away, forty on one, he did not care anymore. He got their attention.

“What is he doing? Stupid minotaur! Run!” Seeing the Mogi break their stillness and charge, Gwenneth ran, then hovered down at an angle to more even ground, staff in hand.

Saberrak paced back and forth in small steps until he saw the throws, the spears from half the Mogi went airborn at him. They were too close, and Saberrak sprinted toward the right and dove, rolling up to his feet as the bone spears cracked the stone floor behind him. He paced more, waiting for them to fall.

The first of the Mogi ran at Saberrak, followed by seven other hunters. The rock surface cracked and all eight dropped. Their momentum smashed them together, faces hit stone, knees buckled, spears broke, and ankles twisted as they now looked up from the pit in pain, face to face with a suddenly very menacing gray minotaur. Greataxes cleaved into raising faces from terrible downward chops, Saberrak stepped down the line, around the pit, leaping over arms meant to grab him and spears meant to skewer. Head by ugly horned head, skull by splitting gray skull, he took his first eight victims quickly.

The Mogi were confused, in disorder, and through the slopes they charged as their shamans seemed to try and stop them. Six fell into the unseen pit on the west side, nine on the east where James should have been. A dozen more came around the now obvious hole that Saberrak had filled with their dead and dying tribesmen.

The minotaur looked up, storms to the south heading this way. Mogi moving to surround him, Shinayne gone from the right slope, the others not to his left. He ran. Something snapped him back to a conscious thought beyond killing, and he turned and sprinted north after his friends, horns lowered. Saberrak realized he could not take them all alone. He saw Shinayne sliding down into the pass, then Gwenneth floating to meet her. James and Zen were running at an angle toward a crossroads. Saberrak ran past them, turned to the right following the pass, and saw a twenty foot tall wall of flames blocking his path north from slope to slope. He slowed, nowehere to go but through, or back into the horde that chased. They were trapped.

“
Ugithrix ustrax uhhmm ix arith sslexiri!”
The voice of Rynnth echoed in loud hisses from beyond the flame.

Saberrak saw something black, immense and dark raise from behind the wall of fire. The voice had come from there. He ran back the other way toward his friends, knowing their odds were better with the Mogi than what he suspected was waiting beyond the flame.

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Udmalyr Sun-born struggled with the throne. He did not know how to use it, but focused on following Kimtor anyway as his hands gripped the diamonds and stones on the arms. It had been working so far, he just hoped it was not too late. His father, King Arytor the Spear, was resting, asleep, maybe from one he would not awaken. Death would come soon.

The middle son of the king was angry, he had been watching his brothers leave to take the hunt, the only one that had not gone in to drink and boast like the others of Auf Alach. They began betting and wagering who would be king, who would slay the dragon, he wanted to hear none of it. They passed him by as if he did not exist, as he would not be king, he had not lasted the trial of the storm as Eybrol and Kimtor had. Udmalyr had suspicions of his younger brother, when he had asked for his dagger. He said he might need it to take fangs, but he had a feeling, a warning went off in his stomach, so he watched.

The prince of his sky giant home did not see how it happened, but he saw his younger princely brother far ahead of Kimtor. He saw that Kimtor left a trail of blood and was limping in the distance. He knew, but no one listened. Even his father would not wake. He decided to bring the floating castle home closer, no one had noticed, nor would they as they all splept from days of feasting, drinking, and humping their women. Udmalyr had not been given a wife yet, had not the urge to celebrate as his brothers went to kill for the crown, so he at least wanted to see what had happened. He saw Kimtor Seven-teeth in the valley through the open window beside the throne and kept his course.

Kimtor felt weak, two days of taking the hunt had tired him with the pain in his thigh. The bleeding had stopped, the bandage smelled of sickness, and yet he was not far behind his younger brother by sheer will alone. The giant had pushed himself, climbing peaks, running down valleys, taking shortcuts to make up for his lost speed. It was not the loss of blood, nor the trek, but the pain shooting in his leg that had tired him.

With the first rays of the western sun, he saw Eybrol Raven-hair, not more than a mile ahead. He pushed on, like a gallop or a skip to save the agony of putting pressure on his injured leg. The eldest son and prince of Auf Alach thought of taking off his armor, dropping his shield, anything to give him a fair chance at the crown. He knew better, this dragon was nothing to take lightly. He saw many dead of the lesser cannibal tribes that polluted the mountains of the Misathi these last few days. They had not been killed by the dragon or his brother’s greatblade either, something else hunted in the pass but he knew not what it was.

He drew his broadsword, he smelled more of the Mogi, saw the smoke, he knew he was close. For some reason, Auf Alach followed them, it was not custom, nor was it allowed to be this close to a human city. Kimtor kept running ahead. But, Eybrol would be there first. Kimtor pushed on, gritting his teeth with every step, trying to catch his treacherous brother before he got the kill.

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“
Rrrraaarreeeeaaaahhh!”
Rynnth roared and charged through her fire as the cowards that killed her children turned and ran back south. Veuric felt no pain atop her back as they breached the flames, the blood he drank protected him. He patted out his smoldering robes with his free hand as the wyrm clawed and scrambled into the valley. Katrina and Faldrune the red ran into the pass with their scaled mistress, weapons drawn and ready, for days uncounted they had waited.

Saberrak and Shinayne protected the rear as they charged south toward the Mogi horde. They all heard the roar, felt it shake the stone and pierce their ears. They rounded the turn to the south on a dead run, a dead run with the Mogi as well. The giants, shamans and hunters alike, had heard the warning cry of the dragon and were fleeing even faster than they had hunted their prey.

The Mogi had smelled what they thought was the female wyrm, smelled her fires, and now they ran as the dragon smashed into the Misathi. They scattered into the mountains, fearful of what gave chase, then one of their shamans was cut in two before their eyes. A giant of the sky castles, a trueblooded descendant of their race, rounded the turn from the south and swung his greatblade through another Mogi, splitting him from waist to shoulder. The bronze two handed sword was as tall as the Mogi hunters were. They scattered more, knowing not to dare fight the ones from the clouds.

Saberrak and Shinayne stopped and stared for just a moment. The being was nearly four times the height of the minotaur, black haired, sandstone skin, and cutting Mogi warriors in half as they fled. He was coming right for them, right for his friends scattered ahead in the chaos. The ground shook with every step, his blade was running with black blood, the giant was smiling and looking past them with radiant blue eyes. Zen and Gwenneth were fifty feet ahead of them, about to be crushed. James stared from the slope.

“To the slopes, up!” Shinayne yelled, shoving the minotaur to run to the left before they were trampled. The dragon was right behind them.

“Alden have mercy!”
James looked, wide eyed then looked next to him for Gwenneth, she was not there, neither was the dwarf.

Zen was right next to her, near the pit, right in the valley. He looked as she just stared, likely in shock. He dove, knocking her into the pit and saving her from being smashed underfoot. The giant sandaled feet crushed into the pass inches from the dwarf, and kept on north.

A crash of charging giant and stampeding dragon knocked all of them to their knees. Dust flew as the massive creatures collided into the eastern slope. Rock flew, red sand exploded over the valley, and the battle began.

The greatblade slashed across the chest of Rynnth and spilled her blood as she roared. She bit into Eybrol’s shoulder as they rolled across the stone floor. Eybrol dropped his sword, shoving his arm inside her mouth to open her jaws and release her grip. His blood ran down his chest as her fangs dug through his flesh. He roared in pain, pushed to get to his feet, eyes open wide in fear and pain. Rynth whipped her neck slamming him into the ground, then again into the mountain, then she released as she whipped again. Eybrol rolled ahead, like doll thrown by an angry child. He staggered to his feet and reached for his sword. Rynnth flapped her wings that covered the valley from peak to peak, took to the air, and roared at the giant that dared interrupt her vengeance. Eybrol Raven-hair limped ahead. His smile of confidance was gone, his body torn and battered, as he bled from his shredded shoulder. The thought crossed his mind that he may have made a mistake. This wyrm was much larger than he had believed it to be. “
Kimtor!
”

Zen could only see dust and debris in the air, the dead Mogi in the pit, and Gwenneth. She looked up to him as tremor after tremor seemed to erupt all around them from the giant and the dragon. They heard wings flapping, a step, then another. Zen put his finger over his lips, Gwenne nodded, the giant was not five feet from them.

Shinayne looked to Saberrak, then to James who was running on the slanted ground to them and away from the colossal cloud of dust that massive spread black wings were now dissipating.

“Where is Zen, where is Gwenne?!” Shinayne yelled as James ran to them.

“I don’t know, in there, I hope not, I…
damn it!”
James turned to run back in, then he heard the voice, a woman’s voice from the ridge right above him.

“Knight of Chazzrynn, would you cross steel with the Queen of Willborne?!” Katrina marched toward the three that had killed her mistresses’ children. She challenged him, knowing Faldrune would take the gray minotaur. She did not care to challenge a smaller elven woman, she would take her down after.

“We meet again, little gray one.” Faldrune the red lifted his mace from the pass and stalked toward them, he had hoped to take the minotaur this time, a fight he was robbed of when they had lost them in the mountains weeks ago.

Shinayne thought quickly, she could not carry Gwenne or Zen if they were hurt, she could not heal them either. She turned to Saberrak and James as the woman in armor and the minotaur approached. She saw the dragon fly south and turn back, glaring at the giant that had tried to kill it, flames puffing out her nostrils. She knew her friends were in that battle, somewhere, and Saberrak had to get them out.

“James, kill her quickly. Saberrak, go save our friends,
now
.” Shinayne gave the gray minotaur a shove to break the stare between he and the red beast with the mace.

“
What
?” Both James and Saberrak said it. Saberrak wanted the minotaur and James thought Shinayne, not he, should fight another woman.

“
You
, I see an enemy of Chazzrynn, defend us, orders of your king.
You
, gray one, you know that rage you have?”

“Yes?”

“Use it, charge in there, and get our friends before they are crushed or burned alive.”

“What will
you
do?” Saberrak huffed as he looked to the titanic battle raging in a valley full of fire where he hoped to find Zen and Gwenneth still alive. He grinned, it looked insanely dangerous.

“I will kill the minotaur
of course
.” Shinayne drew her blades and stalked toward the horned red warrior as James and Saberrak went into motion.

Exodus III:XIII

Evermont, Shanador

“Sir, Sir, beg your pardons, Sirs, would you allow me a moment?” The watch sergeant of the southern gates pleasantly interrupted the knights that were dueling in the yard for sport, still in their shans and casual attire of morning.

“One moment if you would, I am near victory over the
Bear of Evermont
, good watchman.” Sir Jardayne of Highmont, knight general of Evermont under the Low King Symond the Fifth, twirled his wooden greatsword at his larger opponent.

“Sirs, please, if you---“

“That is what they all say, my good knight, right before they find themselves on the ground with their shan up and showing off their bits, all in a daze. I dare say, proceed and face thine end on this fine summer morning.” Sir Codaius of Norninne, just over six feet tall but with the weight and muscle of two men, held his wooden sword tight, waiting for another attack from last nights’ challenger at the dinner table.