“Well,” he said. “I appreciate—”
But his words were cut short by a low drone that rang out somewhere above them. All three looked up at the ceiling, with nothing more than those strange angles to glaring down at them.
“What was that?” said Farris, right before the noise rang out again, longer, and louder than before.
Nicole’s eyes went wide. “No, not now. We’re not ready yet, we’ve only just arrived.” She gave Farris a worried look. “The enemy has been sighted. She’s here.”
Chapter 8:
The Light Fades
The journey west was difficult. With each passing day, the Grey Plague followed, threatening to catch us if we slowed. By boat, we crossed a sea to reach the land He had promised us. We named it Alabach and arrived on the southern coast.
But our welcome was not warm. The natives fought back with great ferocity and might. Intelligent creatures, they had mastered the art of metallurgy in ways we could only dream. Had we waged conventional warfare against them, we surely would have been cast back into the sea.
But with the Lord’s magic on our side, we crushed their early skirmishes. We settled in the region known as the Kinglands today, and claimed the south of Alabach for ourselves.
But Seletoth still lay somewhere further north, and our journey would not be over until we found Him.
The Truth, by King Móráin I, AC 55.
***
Chaos erupted all over the camp as the horn’s blast rang through the air. The boots of soldiers running into position thundered against the ground, drowning out cries of their superiors.
“Aislinn!” called out Fionn as he saw her mounting. “What am I do to?”
“Plackart!” she shouted back at him. She donned her helm and climbed on an armoured horse. “He’s leading the vanguard.”
Fionn sprinted through the camp. Soldiers scrambled from tents among cries and shouts, others frantically donned armour and tended to their weapons. Towards the edge of the camp, a large host of infantry was assembling. General-Commander Plackart walked through their ranks in gilded armour.
“Firemaster!” he roared. “Our enemy is here. We will meet her in open battle and end this once and for all.” He handed Fionn a Simian-made spyglass and pointed eastwards.
Fionn looked through the eyeglass. It took a moment for his vision to focus, but once it did, a dark figure appeared at the edge of the clearing.
Unarmed and alone, Morrígan wore a feathered black cloak, just like before.
“She brought no army.” said Plackart. “There’s nothing but empty landscape between us and her. We end this now.”
“Plackart!” came a voice. He and Fionn turned to see Farris and Nicole running towards them.
“Farris Silvertongue,” sneered Plackart. “What brings you here?”
“It’s a trap,” said Farris, panting for breath. “It must be a trap. Why else wait until we have all arrived before revealing herself? Why even give us the chance to muster our strength? You need to call off the vanguard, you—”
“You will not give me orders!” growled Plackart. “After our last meeting, you should grateful you’re not being charged with desertion.”
“Plackart, please!” said Farris. “Just listen.”
“Archers, take aim!” roared the commander, turning back towards his men. A row of marksmen standing behind him raised their bows. “Fire!”
A hundred arrows shot up to the sky, then landed about the clearing. Plackart grabbed the spyglass from Fionn’s hands and looked through it.
“She’s unharmed,” he muttered. “And still coming towards us.”
“There’s no way she’d let herself be exposed like this,” said Farris. “We need to reconsider.”
“Infantry!” cried Plackart. He raised his greatsword in one hand over his head. “Today we repay the debt this Godslayer left us with in Penance. For every Human and Simian life she took from us. With me!”
A barrage of battle cries rose up, and the infantry charged, with Plackart at their head. Human and Simian alike, they sprinted into the clearing with spears lowered. Fionn braced himself as the rest of the soldiers ran past him. His eyes met Farris’s.
“You believe me, right?” said Farris. “Surely you can see that this is a trap.”
“I do,” said Fionn. He clicked his flint rings together to create a spark, which quickly turned to a burning ball of fire in his hands. “But they need me, and I don’t have much of a choice.”
With that he turned to face the clearing, now filled with charging soldiers, and followed.
***
“Damn idiots,” said Farris, kicking at the trodden grass. “It’s as if they want to be killed.”
“The cavalry,” said Nicole. “They’re just mounting now. We still have time.”
With this, Farris and Nicole ran into the camp. One contingent of elk cavalry charged past into the battlefield, some twenty or so riders among them. Farris waved his hands and called out to them, but they did not slow.
“Bastards,” grunted Farris.
“Captain Tuathil is over there,” said Nicole, pointing. Indeed, at the southern end of the camp, Padraig was addressed another group of riders from atop a destrier.
