PALE REIGN OVER GESHEM - CHAPTER 34 By Abyss DISCLAIMER applies. FEEDBACK appreciated. Any questions? ------------------------------------------------ Screams echoed throughout the city. Alex ran from alley to alley, dodging preyers and bandits and their pitched battles with the thieves and resistance. Alex couldn't tell, but it seemed every time he saw a group of allies, they were being driven back, or regrouping. The supernatural ferocity of the preyers and the slight magically enhanced strength of the bandits was giving them an edge... but the resistance was fighting for their Queen and their land... and they were selling their lives dearly. The entire flight to the main gate was a blur of terror and death, tempered only by his need to see to his family. When the main gate finally came into sight, his heart sank and swelled all at once. The portcullis was down, the enemy restrained to the city for the moment... but no archers stood on the ramparts. Whatever had happened, it was only a matter of time before the Pale Man's forces were amongst the refugees... and his family. Short sword clutched in one hand, cloth bundle in the other, Alex ran for the guardhouse that enclosed the staircase up to the battlement. He nearly tripped on the body of a bandit with an arrow through one eye. Nearby, a woman, presumably a resistance fighter, lay leaning against a wall. Her eyes were closed as if she were sleeping, but the pool of red around her was far too big to be from a minor wound. Alex ran on, his steps hurried but sure. The lever to raise the iron gate was stiff and heavy, and it required all his weight to budge it, but finally he had, and the ring of winding chains signalled the rise of the portcullis. The city was now open to the outside... the refugees were now vulnerable to the Pale Man's forces. Alex raced up the steps. * * * Flanked by the two knights, Douglas spurred his mount through the city streets and towards the main road to the castle. A misshapen figure leapt from a low window, all claws and teeth. Richard's mallet knocked it to the ground with enough force to shatter the thing to wet red pulp. Four bandits blocked their route, crossbows raised to send a hail of bolts at them. Alexander Summerisle had rode to the fore, waves of black and white energy bursts shattering the attack with a sweep of his sword. The bandits had tried to retreat, but with the Prince-Consort in the lead, they had rode them down, Douglas beheading two as they passed, Richard and Alexander seeing to the others. Another twist in streets and they were on the main road... the castle looming ahead, its gates open smoke rising form within its walls... just as the main body of bandits moved en masse down the street in the preyers wake. The Maurauders, Javelin and Crawler, had been in the forefront. Javelin recognized the Prince-Consort even as the Prince and the two knights had charged the bandits. The bandits were startled to be attacked, moreso by mounted warriors after nearly a month of dealing with defenseless townpeople. The rush threw them off guard. Richard leaned from his saddle, his mallet striking the ground. A wave of earth scattered the bandits, except for Crawler. With a burst of sulphur, he vanished from Javelin's side and reappeared in the air above Richard, kicking him face first from the saddle. Douglas saw the knight fall. He hurried to his side, holding out a hand to pull him up behind him, when a group of bandits charged them and there was no more time. Richard hefted his Mallet to disperse the bandits, and Crawler teleported again, landing atop him and carrying him to the ground. Douglas couldn't help him, as bandits surrounded him, trying to pull him from his horse. His sword flashed down, driving them back, but more of them closed in. Alexander spun the short, wide Chaos Blade in his hands. Waves of churning power tore bandits to pieces as they closed with sword reach. Even a glancing cut was fatal. Any weapon that parried the Blade was shattered. Alexander cut his way towards his embattled prince, until something struck his horse from afar, sending a wave of pain into Alexander's legs, even as the animal reared up, throwing him to the ground. He recovered quickly, rolling away from a downthrust spear, the Chaos Blade clearing away the enemy, until a weapon that glowed as brightly as his own parried a strike, and didn't shatter. Javelin and Alexander's eyes met for an instant, and then began the battle in earnest. * * * At the battlements, he looked down. The refugees were milling about. Some huddled in groups about the hovels and tents. Many could be seen rushing away from the camp, dragging children and hastily loaded carts. Something stung at Alex's shoulder. In pain, he whirled to see three bandits rushing along the wall at him. One held a bow, and was nocking an arrow even as the other two moved forward, sword and spear at the ready. Wrong place to be, boy.' Red eyes glowed beneath their hoods. One of them grinned, and his white teeth stood out. Alex could see every detail perfectly as he raised his short sword and prepared to die. Everything slowed, including the thin arm that extended from the shadows at the base of the battlement wall to plant a long knife in the first bandits side. The man had enough time to gasp, red eyes widening in surprise, before he pitched sideways to the city below. Katherine, thief of Geshem, flowed out of the shadows and onto the narrow battlement. The second bandit cursed and raised his sword, rushing forward. She caught his down-swinging wrists on her blade, the force of his own attack slashing them badly. An upthrust knee sent the man sprawling to the floor, but the third bandit had an arrow ready. Katherine knew she couldn't leap into the shadows and leave the boy, and the man was too far to attack. Her hand drew back to throw the fighting knife, an unreliable attack at best, when something whistled over her shoulder and struck the bow and the hand holding it. The bandit swore as the arrow was knocked aside. Katherine rolled forward and came up with her blade outstretched, thrusting under the ribs and into the heart. The bandit fell. She turned to see Alex staring wide eyed, his hand still held before him from throwing his knife. His short sword dangled forgotten from his other hand. Nice throw kid. Any reason why you're up here, instead of with your family below?' Her voice snapped Alex out of his daze. He pulled a tattered cloth from his belt and knelt down, reaching for the dead bandit's spear. A moment's work and he was ready. He stood on the battlement, above the refugee camp below... and raised the flag. For the first time in a month, the Wolf's Head banner flew over the city walls. The boy shouted, and all across the refugee camp, his voice rang out. For the Queen... for Queen Rain and Geshem, FOR THE QUEEN AND GESHEM!' Hopeless eyes raised... hearts that had gone cold suddenly leapt. The people of Geshem saw the flag that had symbolized so many years of good times, and victory over the bad times... and they remembered. The first cry was a woman's voice. A child's echoed it. All across the camp, the cry was picked up... in one voice, then two, the a score and then a hundred hoarse and hungry voices, letting loose a hope that had been put down for far to long. For the Queen!' Queen Rain!' For the Queen and Geshem!' And in one mad rush, hundreds of hands grabbed sticks, tent poles, axes and stones, and a thousand refugees rushed through the open gates and into the city they had been driven from. On the wall, Alex propped the flag up with a dead bandits body, and picked up his short sword. Katherine put her hand on his shoulder. That's some power you have there kid.' * * * One advantage to having a metal arm, Douglas had found, was that it never tired. That was usefull, when to stop swinging your sword meant death. He had lost track of Richard in the fight after the goblin had teleported them both away. He knew Alexander was nearbye from the flashes of energy as the Chaos Blade rang against the Maruader's enchanted weapon, but the bandits were fearful of getting close to that struggle, and so they concentrated on him. Their numbers worked against them. He was one man, and could strike freely, while they had to avoid striking each other. Long hours of training with the best warriors of the realm and an exceptional talent for predicting opponents moves had forged Douglas into an exceptional swordsman, but even a master of the blade with a metal arm could only hold out so long. Already, he was bleeding from shoulder and thigh. Another bandit thrust a spear. Dougls knocked it aside with his metal arm and followed through with the blade, stabbing the man through the throat. He pulled the blade back quickly and whirled in time to drive back an attack at his back. The bandits closed in again, and Douglas sent a silent prayer to the Land to protect his Queen, and readied himself for one final attempt to break free, when a roar of voices carried over the curse and screams of the bandits... FOR RAIN AND GESHEM.' The mob descended on the bandits like the wrath of a vengeful god. Alexander had been hard pressed to keep deflecting the flickering spear. Javelin was a formidable opponent, using both ends of the weapon to attack. Alexander's side burned where the Maruader had struck a glancing blow. When the crowd arrived, the man hadn't even been distracted. He pressed the attack anew, and Alexander was hard put to defend himself... then the blunt end of the spera had snaked around the Chaos Blade, forcing it down... the sharp point had reached for Alexander's throat, and the knight had lost control. The roiling forces of the Blade seized him for an instant, and his arm had come up. The threatening weapon had been knocked aside with force beyond mere human strength could muster, and the blade had sunk itself deep in the maruader's chest. The man had only time to register surprise, and then the forces within the blade had torn him to pieces. Alexander stood still for a moment, breathing deeply, regaining control. The rush of people around him almost set off a fury he might never have recovered from, but he was a knight of the Land, and he ruled his weapon... not the other way around... this time. His brother, the late Lord Summerisle's words tore at him. *Either you control the magic, or it controls you.* His brother was dead. _He_ was Lord Summerisle now. A nearbye building suddenly collapsed. There was a burst of rubble, and Richard, beaten and bleeding, stumbled towards him. Not a bad little battle, is it?' Alexander forced a grin, and they joined the Prince-Consort as in leading the resistance to the castle, sweeping bandits and preyers before them. END CHAPTER 34 NEXT; CHAPTER 35:FINALE, and CHAPTER 36:EPILOGUE