Return of
Dark Dragon
by PJ
Chapter 5
It was
several hours after noon when Rodger and Victoria stopped by a vendor
to buy
sandwiches and a flask of cool ale. The
couple took their lunch and
walked to
the southern edge of the tent city to eat in relative privacy. The
raider and
the Elf woman ate in silence for some time, sharing the ale without
comment. Victoria cleaned her red lips with a cloth
napkin, then turned to
Rodger.
"What
are we going to do next?" asked the Elf woman curiously.
"I
hadn't really thought about it. After I
pay the men off, I suppose that
the two of
us could take a vacation somewhere. How
about taking a ship to the
southeast
islands? The weather's nice and warm,
and the women are very
friendly,"
replied Rodger with a lecherous grin.
"I
swear. All you think about is
sex," muttered Victoria with a shake of her
raven hair.
"Oh,
like you don't," retorted the raider.
"Well? What's your great
idea?"
"Couldn't
we go to the capital, or to New Hope?
I've never been to those
cities
before," suggested Victoria.
"Are
you nuts? With our records?"
exclaimed Rodger. "The Royal Army
would
have us in
chains in a day!"
"We'd
be disguised, stupid!" retorted Victoria with a frown. "We have enough
money to buy
some rich clothes and pretend to be nobles.
The Royal Army
wouldn't
dare to mess with nobility."
"Umm,
you got a point there," replied Rodger thoughtfully. "I'll have to
sleep on
it."
"You do
that," said Victoria sharply as she turned away from her lover and
gazed at the
southern horizon. The two companions
had laid indolently upon the
soft grass
all afternoon, and now the sun had begun to set in the west. As the
fiery orb
descended behind the western mountains, Victoria could just make out
a band of
armored men approaching the tent camp.
"Rodger,
do you see those soldiers?" asked the Elf woman tightly.
"No, I
don't see anything," replied the raider as he gazed intently to the
south.
"Well,
I do. I think that we better go round
up the boys," said Victoria as
she rose
quickly to her feet.
"That
might be hard to do. The men are spread
out all over the place, I only
saw two or
three in the last few days that we've been here," replied Rodger as
he stood up
slowly.
Suddenly,
screams emerged from the west, where tall columns of smoke began to
appear. Watching closely, the two raiders saw
several flaming arrows fall out
of the sky
and strike tents on the edge of the encampment. The dry canvas lit
up quickly,
and soon a dozen tents were engulfed in flames. Rodger and
Victoria hid
inside a dwelling near their lunch spot, and watched quietly as
the soldiers
from the south drew their weapons and entered the makeshift town,
cutting down
anyone who got in their way. Two
soldiers dressed in spiked,
black
platemail pushed their way into the companions' tent, searching for prey.
Rodger slammed
his right knee into one man's stomach, then pushed him into the
dirt. Victoria drew a slim dirk from her left
sleeve and stabbed her target in
the neck
several times with quick thrusts. Blood
spurted from the soldier's
severed
artery as he clutched his neck weakly, then fell to the ground. Rodger
kicked his
fallen adversary in the ribs, then smashed his boot into the fallen
man's
face. As the soldier grunted with pain,
Rodger drew his long sword and
stabbed the
man in the stomach until he stopped moving.
The companions quickly
returned to
the tent flap and watched as the black-armored soldiers killed the
inhabitants
of the black market camp.
A darkly,
handsome officer rode into the camp wearing black armor and a
sheathed
sword at his hip. He had long, brown
hair tied into a ponytail that
hung down
his back. The officer's gleaming hazel
eyes looked upon the
destruction
of the tent city dispassionately. A
foot soldier rushed up to the
officer and
spoke quickly to him, then led the way to the slave square, where
several
prisoners had been detained.
"What
do we do?" whispered Victoria into Rodger's ear.
"We
wait," replied the raider quietly.
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"The
target has been secured, sir," replied a young captain proudly.
"Good
work, captain," replied General Jordan as he gazed coldly at the huddled
group of
whores and slaves standing before him.
"Send a team throughout the
camp to
recover anything of value. I especially
want to recover as many horses
as
possible."
"I'll
see to it," said the captain as he quickly saluted, then strode away to
collect his
subordinates.
General
Jordan sat patiently on his horse as his men quickly stripped the camp
of
valuables, including several chests of gold crowns, jewels, weapons, and
over a score
of mounts. The soldiers each claimed a
steed of their own, then
proceeded to
load saddlebags with their newfound wealth.
Out of the corner of
his eye,
Jordan saw a man and woman silently leave a tent and attempt to escape
to the
south.
"Get
those two! They're escaping
south!" shouted Jordan as he pointed his
sword
towards the escapees.
Four
soldiers on horseback quickly spurred their horses south in pursuit of
the fleeing
couple. Jordan rode his own steed after
his men as they surrounded
the two
companions and readied their weapons.
The woman threw a knife in one
quick flash,
impaling one trooper in the throat. As
the dead man fell limply
off of his
steed, the male advanced on another soldier and began to trade sword
blows with
him. The chainmail-garbed warrior
stabbed the soldier in the
stomach,
then slashed upwards across the rider's chest, spewing blood in a
glittering
arc. The woman drew her own short
sword, then slashed open the
chest of a
nearby rider's steed, which promptly fell onto its knees, discarding
its rider
upon the ground. The woman moved in a
blur towards the fallen
trooper,
then grabbed him by the hair, allowing her to slash open his exposed
throat with
one pass of her blade. The male warrior
was engaged with the
remaining
horseman when Jordan drew close to the battle, his own long sword
bare in his
right hand. The woman, who Jordan now
recognized as an Elf,
noticed the
approach of the officer, and smiled viciously at her new prey.
Jordan
saluted with sword upraised as Victoria charged his horse and jumped
high into
the air. The general waited until her
fall placed her in range of
his blade,
then he swung his weapon at her exposed legs.
The Elf woman parried
his blow
quickly as she landed on his saddle, then she pushed him off of his
mount
towards the hard earth. Jordan slammed
into the grass with a grunt, but
managed to
block several descending blows from Victoria as she moved off the
horse and
loomed above her prone victim. Jordan
swung his left leg, knocking
the Elf
woman off of her feet. The general
jumped on top of Victoria, then
smashed the
hilt of his sword into her temple. With
the woman unconscious,
Jordan
staggered to his feet just in time to see Rodger slash open the stomach
of the last
horseman, his greasy intestines flopping wetly onto the ground.
Jordan
charged the swordsman, holding his sword high in both hands. Rodger
turned to
meet the attack, and the two men slammed their blades together with a
metallic
chime. Jordan slashed and stabbed with
his sword in rapid strokes,
never giving
his opponent a chance to counter-attack.
Rodger frantically
parried his
foe's strikes, backing away slowly in an effort to get some
breathing
room. Two soldiers snuck up behind
Rodger and leapt at his legs,
forcing him
to slam into the earth and drop his sword.
Jordan wasted no time
in smashing
his booted foot into Rodger's face, then kicked him in the side of
the head for
good measure.
"Disarm
these two, then bind them and place them with the other prisoners,"
gasped
Jordan as he leaned heavily on his sword.
"Are
you alright, sir?" asked an infantryman.
"Yes,
just a little winded. I haven't
encountered such a pair of able
swordsman in
quite a while," replied Jordan breathlessly.
With Rodger
and Victoria captured, the remainder of the looting was
uneventful. Then, as Jordan led the remnant of his squad
south, one soldier
stayed
behind long enough to torch the remaining tents and leave the black
market camp
as a smoldering ruin.
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"Prepare
the men for another charge," ordered General Dyth as he watched the
last catapult
rounds smash into the smoking battlements of Sentinel Keep.
"Yes,
sir!" replied the messenger before he began running towards the catapult
emplacements.
"Two
days of continual bombardment should have taken the fight out of the
little
bitch," muttered Dyth as he returned to his tent to retrieve his
swordbelt
and horse. The silver-haired soldier
belted on his weapon, then
climbed
stiffly onto his mount. Dyth rode
slowly east to where his men sat
patiently,
awaiting another chance to take the enemy stronghold. Nodding
encouragement
to his troops, Dyth halted his steed, and gazed speculatively at
the damaged
walls of the fortress.
"Attennnntion!"
shouted General Dyth with a reverberating roar. Over eight
hundred men
rose and stood as stiffly as statues.
"Charrrge
weapons!" ordered Dyth. Swords,
spears, and bows were made ready.
"Marrrch!"
commanded the general with a downward slash from his sword. The
Army of
Night began its second advance towards Sentinel as the sun began its
ascent into
the clear, blue-tinged sky.
The invading
army made steady progress towards the fortress until they entered
arrow
range. As the soldiers marched
relentlessly, war arrows and large
ballista
bolts rained upon them, piercing armor and rending flesh with
impartial
intent. Dozens died in the charge, but
the bulk of the army reached
the walls
and began to erect ladders and throw up ropes.
Defenders upon the
battlements
rained down arrows upon the attackers and pushed the flimsy ladders
from the
wall, but several died as archers on the ground shot up their own
shafts, and
a few skilled artillerymen launched solid shot projectiles at the
defenders,
destroying whole sections of defensive wall.
With a scream of
anger,
Governor Nightmane led a squad of reinforcements upon the wall, throwing
back the
attackers and organizing missile barrages at those upon the ground.
Skilled
throwers were armed with fire bombs, fragile flasks filled with
alcohol, and
ordered to lob their projectiles at the milling infantry. Fiery
death rained
down on the attackers, and men ran screaming in full retreat as
their flesh
burned away from the assault. The
invaders began to lose morale as
scores of
men died from lethal arrows and immolating bombs.
With whole
squads running away to the west, Nightmane opened the western gates
and led
another charge into the confused Army of Night. The raven-haired woman
rode a white
and brown mare into hostile groups of infantry, cutting them to
pieces with
her shining long sword. The jewels
embedded within the hilt of her
blade glowed
brightly with an inner light as she slashed and beheaded any enemy
within her
reach. The Royal Army garrison followed
their beautiful leader,
breaking up
enemy formations and forcing the attackers into a complete rout.
General Dyth
grinded his teeth together, then led a company of his men in a
direct
charge towards Nightmane. The two
groups slammed into each other,
swinging and
stabbing with their blades in a raucous cacophony. Dyth cut
several
soldiers down as they charged his horse, then he forced his way in
front of
Governor Nightmane, who was skillfully killing his soldiers with cool
efficiency.
"This
ends now, bitch!" spit out Dyth as he slashed open the neck of
Nightmane's
mare. The horse cried out piteously as
it fell, disgorging the
female
warrior in a tangle of limbs. As Dyth
attempted to ride down his hated
foe,
Nightmane ducked under his steed and cut the saddle girths. General Dyth
slid off of
his horse with a loud wail, then slammed roughly into the ground.
Nightmane
waited until the old soldier had regained his feet, then she advanced
with her
bright sword swinging. Dyth parried her
initial blows, then
counter-attacked
with several quick slashes and lunges.
Nightmane evaded his
assault,
then lashed out at her foe's armored legs.
Sparks flew as the woman's
sword cut
deep furrows in Dyth's black platemail, then with a flick of her
wrist,
Nightmane slashed across the old man's torso, scoring a deep wound in
his right
arm. Dyth grunted with pain and nearly
dropped his sword, but he
quickly
switched his weapon to his left hand and attacked Nightmane, ripping
her white
surcoat and cutting into her left shoulder.
The governor winced, but
kept her
guard up as the general rained a serious of blows upon her. With
fatigue and
loss of blood sapping her strength, Nightmane quickly ducked
forward and
kicked the back of Dyth's left knee with her boot. The
silver-haired
officer attempted to stay on his feet, but failed, slamming
loudly into
the ground. The governor stabbed
forward with her blade, impaling
the prone
general in the stomach. Dyth screamed
in agony, then slashed forward
with his own
sword, cutting deeply into Nightmane's left ankle. As the
raven-locked
woman fell, Dyth climbed unsteadily to his feet and loomed over
his enemy.
"Fucking
slut!" screamed General Dyth as he slammed his boot into her stomach.
"I'm
going to cut your fucking throat out!" The bleeding soldier kicked
Nightmane
repeatedly in the stomach and ribs, then raised his bloody sword
unsteadily
with both hands.
"I'll
see you in Hell, bitch," spat out Dyth as he plunged his sword
downwards. The panting woman on the ground rolled out
of the sword's path,
then jumped
forward as the general tried to pry his sword out of the ground.
"You
talk too much, windbag," muttered Nightmane as she skewered Dyth on her
blade, the
weapon's tip emerging from the armored man's back.
"Noo..oo,"
groaned General Dyth as he slid off of the woman's sword and fell
bonelessly
to the earth.
Nightmane
stood slowly erect as her soldiers formed a screen around her and
fought off
the remaining attackers. With their
leader dead, the Army of Night
lost all
cohesion and retreated chaotically to the west.
"Shall
we pursue, my lady?" asked a blood-smeared officer.
"No. Secure the area around Sentinel, then return
to man the walls. Get some
repair crews
to start work on the battlements, we may need them soon," replied
Nightmane
softly before she began limping towards the open gates.
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