PALE REIGN OVER GESHEM - CHAPTER 29
by Abyss
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     Rayle and Victor had joined Marik's
bandits long before they swore loyalty to the
Pale Man.  They were hard, bullying men who
enjoyed a fight, provided they were going to
win.  They had been warned the preyers were to
be released, and so they had sought shelter
until the foul things had passed by, before
joining in the fun.  Preyers usually wouldn't
attack soulsworn bandits, but it was better to
let them lead an attack, especially one on
helpless townspeople and refugees.
     Rayle noticed the winery and made a
suggestion to his partner.  They might be of
more use guarding some fine vintage during the
crisis.  Victor agreed readily and they moved
quickly to the door.  One swift kick opened it
and they walked in... and the biggest man they
had ever seen looked at them, idly tapping a
huge hammer into the palm of his hand.
     The door was slammed shut behind them, and
the two drew their weapons.
     Amon just grinned.
          *         *         *
     Alex found himself with a small group of
thieves charged with removing archers from the
higher rooftops in the town.  A spear and dagger
had been pressed upon him, and a mail shirt that
had hung below his knees.
     He had already seen two men and a women,
thieves he had met and laughed with, die.  He
had also seen a number of bandits die, one of
them kicking and screaming on the end of his
spear.  He wasn't sure what bothered him more.
     *Less thinking, more staying alive Alex.*,
he chided himself, as they approached another of
the hidden entrances to the passages that run
all over the city like rat tunnels in a mansion. 
The lead thief triggered the door and then burst
out into to hall and up a staircase leading to
the rooftop, only to fall back with a crossbow
bolt in his throat.  The two remaining thieves
charged up, stepping over the body.  Alex
followed them, his heart in his mouth, his
knuckles white on the haft of the spear.  He
stumbled over the body, caught his balance, and
ran up after the others.
     The rooftops  were a deadly place to be. 
All about the city, small battles were raging,
thief against bandit.  The thieves were holding
their own, but striking from hiding and
disappearing again.  There weren't enough of
them to stand against the bandits... and that
wasn't why they were there.
     The first thief with Alex's group, Lucas,
was lying on the ground.  A crossbow bolt was
through his shoulder, and a bandit, red eyes
glowing, was gripping it and twisting.  Lucas'
hands struggled against the man ineffectually,
pain weakening his grip.  The man's hood was
thrown back, and for the first time, Alex saw a
soulsworn without his hood.  The features were
normal, only the red eyes glittering set the man
aside from anyone else.  They seemed like demons
from Hades itself when their faces were hidden.
     Behind them, the other thief struggled
with another bandit, both of them gripping a
loaded crossbow, each trying to aim it at the
other.
     Alex tightened his grip on the spear and
prepared to lunge at the bandit pinning Lucas,
when an unearthly howl ran through the castle. 
All eyes were drawn to the castle, but that was
only where the terror was beginning.  Creatures,
monsters, *Preyers,*, his mind cried out... and
they were charging out, across the bridge... and
down towards the city below with its inhabitants
hiding in their houses, and the refugees camped
outside...
     *Mother... Julie, Katie...*
     Alex lunged.  The spear, aimed for the
throat, cut a bloody furrow across the bandit's
face.  The man released his grip on the bolt and
cried out, and Lucas thrust a knife into his
throat.  The theif nodded his thanks at Alex and
rushed to help his companion.  Alex stood for a
moment, then turned and ran for the nearest
steps.  He stepped on something and sprawled
headlong to the cobblestones.
     *Some rescuer.*, he thought, cursing his
clumsiness.  Springing to his feet, he looked to
see what had tripped him, and felt his heart
jump into his mouth.  Sparing one precious
moment, Alex grabbed the ragged piece of cloth
from the roof, and ran for the stairs.
          *         *         *
     Hooves thundered across the forest road. 
At the lead, Douglas, the Prince-Consort, urged
his horse to greater effort.  They had changed
mounts some twenty leagues earlier, and now were
on the final stretch to the castle.  He prayed
they weren't too late, he prayed for the Land,
and most of all, he prayed for his queen.  To
either side of him, the knights, Richard and
Alexander, were just a grim.  The cavalry had
made good speed, but all wondered if they were
fast enough.
     Ahead on the road, the trees seemed to
stretch on forever.  Two trees in particular
leaned inward on the road, but not enough to
impede their race.  Ducking slightly lower, the
three leaders spurred their mounts on... and
suddenly they disappeared from sight.   
     The remaining cavalry pulled up short...
confused, instantly alert to attack.  The riders
in the lead, hardened soldiers all, were even
more confused when a slim, beautiful woman, with
long green tresses of hair that reached her
ankles, wearing only a barely modest arrangement
of leaves, stepped out into the road before
them.  Swords were bared, lances lowered. 
      What sorcery is this... where is the
Prince-Consort... are you a witch, to have
spelled him away?' the captain demanded.
     The dryad smiled, her hands open by her
sides.  Her voice was the whisper of wind in
trees.
      Not hardly... but they were late... I've
merely moved them along a bit faster.  You shall
have to make your own way though.  Tree-portals
are so very taxing.  Do hurry.'
     And with a swirl of leaves and wind, she
was gone.
     The captain looked at his second-in-command for an instant, confusion 
evident on
both their faces.  The warrior then kicked his
horse into a hard gallop, the rest of the
cavalry following, on to the Castle.
          *         *         *
END CHAPTER 29