Somewhere South of Thunder Hill
“What is it, Mistress?" One of her Handmaidens asked, concerned when the Enchantress stopped, and went suddenly pale. She waved her Lady in Waiting into silence.
"I know not yet...but I shall."
She glanced behind her briefly, and drew strength from the ragged band of refugees she was leading away from the Southlands.
Something....some form of magic had briefly lit up her senses. It was known that the Nilroggi understood not the Eldritch Ways, which meant.... She dared not hope.
Could it be that there were others of the Art close at hand?
The power they wielded was immense, and yet they were clumsy with it. It mystified her. Slowly, Lady Dierdranna held up her moon crystal and willed a portion of its essence into the night sky.
"Go, little one." She whispered. "Show me what awaits us northward."
She closed her eyes as the tiny firefly of golden light shot off into the night. It would serve as her eyes over the long distances she needed to survey.
The ground fell away in a rush, and she was made dizzy by the suddenness of it. Two of her Handmaidens reached out and steadied her and she watched the world unfold from hundreds of feet in the air.
For nearly ten minutes and twenty she saw nothing out of the ordinary, and then....wagons. In a column. The band of refugees easily dwarfed her own small train. They must have been traveling quite some time to have picked up such a host. And they were hurrying. She could tell that much even at this great distance and altitude. Tell it in the frantic way the drovers moved about...the skittish way they looked Eastward.
She didn't blame them. The Nilroggi must be close, but that they seemed so concerned over it must be a sign that they were closer than she feared. Brow furrowed, she willed the tiny globe of light past them and eastward. Marking their position so she could return instantly to that spot once she was done with her scouting.
It did not take long to locate the source of their fear. Nilroggi. And if not the whole host of them, then very nearly so. Her heart shuddered. The way north was blocked then. She was about to leave them and return to the refugees when something about the bearing of the Nilroggi host drew her attention. They were not making for the refugees, so they obviously knew not where they were.
It spoke of a deeper mystery to her. Whatever held their attention drew them due west and slightly northward, not west and south. Perhaps the leader of this large band would know more, and at that moment, she made up her mind to go to them and find out.
Letting the sight fall away, she turned to her followers, casting out the Incantation of the Whispering Wind as she spoke so that her voice would carry to all with her.
"Companions....the way to the North is blocked....Nilroggi approach from that direction. We must turn westward now and make for the Harradis, in hopes that we are far enough north to satisfy the Governor of Goroda."
"But Mistress, the Governor as much as said that if we..."
"I am well aware of the Governor's threat, Lady Ashlynn....but with such a horde of Nilroggi as I have seen fast approaching, we dare not risk traveling further north. We must strike a new course away from them, and continue toward the Harradis. Given my rank and station, they will surely let us pass, and we will at last find safety."
The crowd nodded. Satisfied, and trusting their Lady. "We shall camp here this night, and make westward at dawn. I go now to meet with the leader of a much larger band of refugees that my sight revealed to me, in hopes of gathering more information to improve our chances."
As always, she added. "If I am not back by dawn, you will begin the day's journey without me." Without waiting for a response from them, and knowing they would abide by her wishes, she willed a new spell forth from her, and in a flash of light, she was gone.
~~Ж§Ж~~
Thunder Hill
"There's something you said earlier that I've been meaning to ask you about, Master Armando....you said one of your wives?" McDougil asked, amazed.
Armando nodded. "It is so, McDougil....our ways are quite different from yours, in that and many other things."
"How many....how many wives have you then?" He asked in a mixture of amazement and curiosity.
"Five, though only three are with me at present. Two are leading another band of Free-Folk somewhere north of here."
"Five...." McDougil whispered, with a curious grin on his face, as he continued to shred blankets and linens with his hunting knife, making them into longish strips with which to wrap their arms when their time came to ride. "Five...."
~~Ж§Ж~~
Somewhere north and east of Thunder Hill
The sound was unmistakable. That curious scrabbling noise that the Nilroggi made as they scuttled over the earth. Greatly magnified by both the proximity to those curious hills, and by the sheer number of approaching creatures.
"Steady men....steady." Duncan whispered, having no fear that his words would not be clearly heard by his small company.
"Hold the line and ride hard on my command....stay together, and hit them as a solid mass....a wall of man and horseflesh, burying your lances deep into the ones in front, and then come about fast as I showed you."
It was the first time many of them had seen combat, both the men and the horses. He feared for them, but he also trusted himself and his abilities to lead them. If they listened, many would survive this first charge. If not....well, he preferred not to think too long on that.
A full minute passed in tense silence.
"Ride!" He snarled suddenly, his voice booming across the plains like thunder.
The men, as he had instructed, let loose a ragged, lusty war cry, and as one, the tiny company of men and horse shot forward, crested a small rise, and then barreled down into the jaws of the Nilroggi horde.
For half a second, their surprising appearance over the crest of the small hill brought the entire host up short, but when they saw how pathetically small the band approaching them was, they surged forward, eager for blood. To their credit, the men riding with him did not waver, though he imagined that many wet themselves as the Nilrog advanced.
He didn't blame them if they did.
Whipping his horse faster, he urged them on. "Ride hard men....ride hard and strike!" He screamed as the company impacted with the endless horde with a sickening crunch, almost immediately followed by bellows of pain from injured and dying Nilrog.
"Come about! Come about now, damn you!" He urged them, wheeling his Roan around smoothly and leading the men away as quickly as they had come.
Ghosts.
That is what they must seek to become. Appearing to strike suddenly, and then vanishing before the Nilrog could gather their wits about them enough to return their sudden blow.
And it was working.
"So far, so good." He said under his breath, noting that on the first surprise hit, not a single man had been lost, and he counted some thirty Nilroggi down, no doubt trampled to death by their companions who continued forward. He led the men away, mentally preparing to do it again as soon as they re-applied what scant protection their strips of blankets afforded.
~~Ж§Ж~~
Twenty Minutes Later
"All men accounted for and ready to move out again!" His Lieutenant reported.
"Excellent....and men....you did well, but remember, we took them by surprise that time....now that they know we're out here to spill blood, they'll be better prepared. You must be faster...smoother in your execution. I saw many of you fumbling to free your lances....forget them. If they break...if they stick, drop them and run...we can fashion new in a matter of minutes from any tree branch convenient....it is you we cannot replace."
The men nodded. Now that they had tasted combat and taken no losses, they were eager to give battle again.
"Are we cavalrymen?" He shouted the question.
"Aye!" Came the fierce reply.
"Then ride!"
And they did.
~~Ж§Ж~~
The second charge was cleaner than the first in terms of execution, but two of his men were not quite quick enough.
They were flanked and dragged off their mounts. It pained Duncan to see it, but he knew it would happen. They would be slowly chipped away.
Each charge they made, slightly fewer of them would remain to make the next. And yet, they continued.
"Sixty to two so far, you Godless bastards." Duncan whispered bitterly. "Let's see how many more we can litter the ground with before you take the last of us."
Duncan and his men continued their raids all through the night, dancing in unexpectedly, ramming lance and flesh into the bulk of the horde, and then skimming away.
Sometimes without losing a man, sometimes without injury altogether, but the blankets that served as their armor were scant protection indeed, and with each charge, a few more of his men showed unmistakable signs of having been affected by the acid. Arms were chaffed and bleeding. Hands raw from the friction of the lance. And yet they rode.
~~Ж§Ж~~
Perrin
The land was empty, and with good reason.
Every creature in, on, or above the earth could sense the presence of the onrushing Horde of Nilroggi, and had fled before them, which was exactly what the refugees were trying to do, but Perrin had his doubts that they would succeed.
The Witchery had done them in, he was certain of it. Too much ground had been lost…the Horde was too near now, and what warriors they had were out sacrificing themselves in a last ditch effort to get the bulk of the refugees out of harm’s way, but what then?
Even if they succeeded in escaping from this calamity, who was to say they wouldn’t be beset by some other, and then what? If they lost the few warriors they could muster to escape from this crisis, how could they hope to survive the next?
It was hopeless.
He shook his head bitterly and slowly allowed himself to fall further and further behind the fleeing column of humanity so he could be alone for a little while.
Alone.
Something that had been all but unheard of during their entire journey. Always the crush of thousands of refugees pressing in on him from all sides.
No…‘alone’ was something hard to come by in the here and now, which was why he was suddenly so desperate for it.
If I’m going to die today, he told himself grimly, then I’d like to spend a little time admiring the world that the HighFather created for us before I am taken from it, and I’d like to do that in peace!
He stopped walking altogether now, his hands on his hips, watching the caravan continue away as quickly as they could manage.
In their haste to escape the Horde, no one turned to look back. No one even noticed he was missing.
He smiled at that and took a deep breath.
Solitude.
If he closed his eyes and concentrated on blocking out the sound, he could almost forget that the Nilroggi were close at hand.
The thought was just forming in his head that he could get used to the peace and quiet, when it was shattered by a voice that seemed to come from every direction at once.
“Perrin?”
“Go away.” He said without opening his eyes. “I’ll catch up easily enough.”
“Perrin?” The voice came again. Firmer and more insistent this time.
He opened one eye, and then gasped in wonder as he beheld the low hanging clouds parting, and a pillar of the purest white light descending from the sky. Upon it, he saw a creature of indescribable grace and beauty. There was only one thing it could be, as unlikely as such a creature was to appear to the likes of him.
It was an Angel of the HighFather.
He stumbled backward and fell roughly to the ground, cursing himself at his own lack of grace in the presence of such a being.
As hurriedly as he was able, he picked himself up and knelt before the creature as it approached.
“It’s Arliss Castillar you want, not me!” He blurted out. “I am but a humble student…he is both learned and wise!”
“Even so,” The Angel told him, “My message is intended for you. Will you keep the HighFather’s commandments this day?”
“Yes!” Perrin said weeping into the sleeves of his threadbare tunic. “This and every day…with my dying breath I will keep them!”
“Then listen well, and know that these words are for you and you alone. They must not be written down or spoken of to anyone. It is your burden to pass on the information without speaking of it direct, or writing it down so that others may happen upon it.”
“But….I don’t understand…if what you’re about to tell me is important, why can’t I….”
The Angel silenced him with a gesture. “There are risks and dangers unseen and unknowable by you, but do not burden yourself with these…just know that this is the will of the HighFather for you…that in later years, long after your passing, hints may be gleaned indirect so that the whole may be pieced together, but in no way must anyone, save you, hear or read these words from our Father. You are their keeper. It is you who must find a way to abide by our Father’s commandments to you, and make sure that the story is told when the time is right for the telling.”
Perrin tried to speak, but found that words had failed him entirely. He nodded his assent firmly, and the Angel spoke the words of the HighFather:
“And lo, the day shall come when the Empire of the Faithful will be drawn astray, and J’honsa shall call upon his Son to corrupt the cleverness of man, turning it against him and sending forth a plague as a reminder so that man can begin anew and reaffirm his belief in the ways of faith in remembrance of Him.
On seeing the devastation wrought by the hand of Ollux, J’honsa’s beloved Kaylarr shall hear the cries of the faithless and take pity on them. Drawing enough numbers to fashion one tribe, She will press these to Her bosom when they call out for aid against His wrath, and from Her act of kindness, a new Kingdom shall be born, and at its heart, a lie will be told by men of faith. A lie that will be as a festering wound on the soul of the nation that will doom its every good act and intention to corruption.
The turning away of the faithful and the lie at the center of the newly made Kingdom will tear at the heart of the HighFather, and forge a deep rift between He and his People. A rift made real by the sundering of the land itself…the opening of a chasm to be known for its sorrows.
So enraged and hurt by the faithlessness of his People, J’honsa will curse them, binding them and their descendants for generations, and delaying the day of reckoning.
It shall be the vanity of Ollux…Polluter and Polluted, that leads to the rise of a false prophet who speaks words of darkness and ushers in the time of reckoning. The new Kingdom shall be bathed in a sea of blood and the Line of Kings shall be brought low.
A new god of darkness will be born, and will walk the earth to ravage the races of man, but in this hour will J’honsa’s anger be overshadowed by love for his children, and he will again send a sign.
As his Wrath descends, a Champion will appear, and thus will the future of man hang in the balance.
Three shall be chosen. One by the hand of J’honsa himself, and the other two, by his appointed Champion.
These will go to the hall of the newly made god and make their stand on behalf of all mankind.
If they go alone, then they will surely fail, and the day of reckoning will be at hand and undo the races of man entire, but if they go with the whole of mankind with them, then the rift shall be healed, forgiveness breathed into the land, and a new covenant forged with the People.
Then will there be a reckoning of another sort.”
With the last of these words still hanging in the air, the Angel of the HighFather reached down and touched Perrin’s shoulders, whispered a few words that he more felt than understood, and then vanished.
Perrin stayed where he was for more than an hour, shivering…sobbing uncontrollably.
Never before had he imagined what an awful burden it was to know the truth.
To know the future.
Later, the truth of that thought would haunt him in ways he couldn’t even fathom as he lay there on the cold hard ground.
~~Ж§Ж~~
Arliss Castillar's Refugee Column
She appeared before them in a flash of brilliant, white light which brought a surprised gasp from the refugees, and left Arliss Castillar with his mouth hung open in surprise. The moment she saw the head-man's Clerical Vestments, she knew she'd made a mistake appearing so, but time was short, so perhaps....
She strode forward with confidence and extended a hand. "I am the Lady Dierdranna, of Newburn....come by..."
"I know how ye have come, Witch." Arliss said acidly. "Take this woman into custody at once!" He barked to some drovers near him.
Her eyes narrowed and she held her staff high, and then brought it to the ground resolutely. Thunder boomed before her as she did so, and the men who were making toward her stopped, eyes wide with fear.
"I am no pawn for you to mishandle, Priest. I come to give you warning about what lies south, and to gather information that might help save the band I lead."
A tense moment of silence followed, and Arliss finally grimaced and cleared his throat. "If it were not for the troubles we currently faced, woman, this would be far from over."
"Well then, Father, you can have me stoned to death if we survive the Nilroggi, but for now, what say you to the notion that we cooperate and pool our intelligences. It seems we have greater concerns than ideology at present, yes?"
"True enough." Arliss conceded grudgingly. "What news of the south then?"
"The way is blocked to us and our kind. No refugees are to be allowed anywhere near the coast. What remains of the Emperor's armies are massing there for one final stand. We were instructed to turn back at once, or face death."
"Aye...." Arliss whispered. "And how many troops has the Emperor?"
"Some fifteen thousand when we passed that way, with more streaming in each day....perhaps twenty thousand by now."
The Priest shook his head sadly. "Not enough." He whispered.
"This is so...for I have seen the host with my own eyes."
He turned to the drovers at the head of the column. "Men....strike a new course eastward. The way south is blocked, and we can risk traveling no further in that direction.....we turn once more toward the lands of the Harradis."
"That is where we are bound for as well." Lady Dierdranna told him. "I shall instruct my people to travel north easterly and link them up with your column if you'd not mind traveling in the company of a Witch for a while yet."
"I mind greatly, if you must know the truth of it....but your witching ways may help us gain passage into the Lands of the Harradis, and I must see to the survival of my people above all else, so I accept your group into my own."
The Lady was about to say something in reply when Arliss held up a hand. "But as for you....stay well clear of my flock....I'll not have them corrupted by the likes of you and your kind. Bad enough that we've eight others traveling with us as it is."
Dierdranna nodded. "I sensed them....they wield a vast power, but they do so clumsily...in an almost child-like fashion. I should very much like to find out more about them, and inquire as to why the Nilrog seem unaware of your presence here."
"Then as to the first, be off with you as soon as we're finished talking of matters of survival. One of my men will show you the way. And as to the second, if they do not pursue us direct it is because of the brave sacrifice that many of our men are making as we stand about talking."
"A diversion?"
"Aye....they buy us time with their blood."
The Lady nodded in understanding. "Then let us make the most of that time, shall we?"
Without waiting for a reply, she strode away from Arliss, and made unerringly toward the magic she felt emanating from one of the wagons in the column.
~~Ж§Ж~~
