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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