Something felt wrong to Pony as she came ashore that midsummer day. All of this desperate plan didn't seem to fit well in her designs for the kingdom of Honce-the-Bear. She had gone out spiritually with the soul stone even as Saudi Jacintha had rounded the peninsula's tip, and everything she had been able to discern had seemed confirmation of the conclusions of Juraviel's scouts.
And yet, something just didn't feel right to her. It was more than her remorse at not being able to run right off to free Roger Lockless, she knew, and she was not the only one feeling this unease. Even Symphony, freed at last from his confinement aboard Saudi ]acintha, snorted and shook his head nervously, and seemed to jump at every touch.
"The great stallion fears this move," Pony remarked to Bradwarden. "I feel it as well, a sense of dread."
"I'm not for arguin' with ye, girl," the centaur replied. "But I'd be thinkin' ye were daft if ye weren't feeling that way. We're taking a mighty gamble here and puttin' all our money on the table."
Pony listened and absorbed the truth of his words. This sortie was different, and more dangerous than anything they had previously attempted. When they had struck at Pireth Tulme and at St. Gwendolyn, even when they had gone to Jacintha to oppose Abbot Olin, they had never moved inland more than a couple of hours' march from their ships and the safety of the Mirianic. Now, though, they were soon to be hard-marching away from the coast for three long days, opening more than fifty miles of ground between themselves and their boats.
"And now we're to face him," Bradwarden remarked a moment later, drawing the woman from her thoughts. "Yer son. Ye're to go against him directly for the first time since he chased ye from Ursal. That's got ye afraid, and rightly so."
"So you believe that we must simply trust in Juraviel's scouts?" Pony asked.
"I'm thinking that if they're right, we've got ourselfs a better chance now than we might ever be seein' again. If yer son's grown too confident and has made a mistake, then we'd be fools not to charge in now." The centaur gave a little chuckle, looking down at her from his full height, and finished, "How dark's the world to be if St.-Mere-Abelle falls to him and to De'Unnero?"
His words were true enough, Pony knew, so she simply nodded and swallowed her uneasiness.
Soon after, she was right beside Prince Midalis, Bruinhelde, and Andacanavar, leading the march across the peninsula.
They charged up the coast with a single purpose: to find the place where Prince Midalis had come ashore. Led by Sir Blaxson of the Allhearts, this splinter group of three thousand warriors knew that they would not be a part of the glorious battle that would soon occur at St.-Mere-Abelle. But they knew, too, and to a man, that their mission here was vital to their king's success.
There must be no escape! Sir Blaxson understood the great risks involved - his force was in many ways in more peril than Aydrian's own army. Duke Kalas has explained the plans to him, and Sir Blaxson was a seasoned enough warrior to understand that in good part the strategy pivoted on timing and a guess.
Would Prince Midalis really take the bait King Aydrian had offered? Would the prince come ashore as predicted, and in the time period predicted? For if that was not the case, Sir Blaxson and his soldiers might find themselves face-to-face with Midalis himself, along with an army larger than Blaxson's own, and one that included Jilseponie Wyndon! Sir Blaxson had warned his men of the potential battle they faced, and his pride had only multiplied ten times over and more when the warriors under his command had taken up the call of King Aydrian and had pressed on more urgently, double-timing their march throughout the day, from long before the dawn until long after the sunset.
They found their reward on the second day after they had splintered from Duke Kalas, their fifth day away from St.-Mere-Abelle. In a sheltered cove only a short distance up the western shore of the All Saints Peninsula, they found the fleet of Prince Midalis.
Alpinadoran longboats had been drawn up onto the shore, while the greater sailing vessels sat at anchor in the distance.
Nearly three hundred men, hardy Alpinadoran warriors all, guarded the beached boats.
When his scouts returned to report the sighting, Sir Blaxson didn't hesitate, forming his line.
"Our duty is here and now before us," he told his men, riding his To-gai pony up and down the length of that line. "The former prince has brought an invader to our fair shores: an Alpinadoran foreigner. A barbaric invader! These northmen know no quarter, no mercy, and no decency. They will kill our people indiscriminately; they will take our women back to their cold wasteland to serve as bed warmers! "We must turn them now!" Sir Blaxson cried. "We must kill the barbarians and destroy their vessels. Damnation awaits Prince Midalis for bringing these murderers to the fair shores of Honce-the-Bear! And King Aydrian will deliver him to that damnation, alongside all the traitorous rabble who have joined him!"
The warriors cheered his every word, their excitement building, the sense of righteousness overflowing.
"Death to the barbarians who dare come south to spoil our lands, our women, our children!" Sir Blaxson cried, and he turned his pony to the north, drew forth his sword, and pointed the way.
The charge of three thousand warriors flowed over the high bluffs just south of the sheltered cove, descending fast upon the surprised Alpinadoran guards. Kingsmen archers filled the air with deadly missiles.
Sir Blaxson sent his infantry down first, the soldiers breaking left and right as they neared the barbarian line, for through the center came the cavalry charge.
To their credit, the Alpinadorans did not break ranks and flee. In concert with their proud heritage, in agreement with the tenets that guided their warrior existence, they took up their weapons and joined in a song to Dane Thorrson, their god of battle. Side by side, they met the attack with a wave of thrown hammers, then with their own muscle.
Against the infantry, the great warriors of the northern lands killed two Bearmen for their every loss, but strong as they were, the Alpinadorans had no answer for the heavy Kingsman and Allheart cavalry. Even to the sides of the devastating cavalry charge, the Alpinadorans were swarmed and brought down, for the army of Sir Blaxson outnumbered them ten to one.
Few of the Alpinadorans fell wounded, for they fought until all life had left their tall, muscular frames. Those wounded few were shown no mercy by Sir Blaxson, nor did a single Alpinadoran ask for such.
They were put to the sword, joining the dead on the blood-soaked beach.
The task was not finished, however, and Sir Blaxson ordered his men to destroy half of the forty longboats. The other half were dragged back into the surf, manned by Bearmen warriors.
Out they went for the anchored, and barely crewed, warships.
A couple, including Saudi Jaantha, raised their sails and headed out. One even managed to begin firing its catapult at the approaching armada, though to no effect.
One by one, the great ships of Honce-the-Bear were reclaimed in the name of King Aydrian.
Watching from the beach, Sir Blaxson puffed his old chest out in pride every time the flag of Ursal was brought down and the bear and tiger of King Aydrian was run up. Those two or three that managed to get away would be of no consequence, he understood. He had served his king and his duke to perfection.
Now Prince Midalis had no retreat.
"Just as Juraviel informed us," Prince Midalis remarked to the others when they came in sight of the high ground north of St.-Mere-Abelle.
There in the distance loomed the unmistakable forms of catapults, and even as they watched, the massive war engines were being turned about.
"It would seem that they have noted our approach," Pony said.
"They'll not turn them in time," Prince Midalis assured her, and he lifted his arm into the air. "Ride on and run on, my warriors!" he cried.
"Now is the hour of my ascent!"
Beside him, Bradwarden took up a rousing tune on his pipes. Behind him, Bruinhelde and Andacanavar led the Alpinadorans in a song to Dane Thorrson.
But then they all paused in awe, for before them, a great winged shape loomed up over the distant cliffs and rushed at the artillery emplacement. Bearing Brynn and Pagonel, the dragon soared past the terrified Bearmen, his fiery breath igniting one catapult, his great claws overturning a second.
Bradwarden resumed his song; Bruinhelde began to sing.
On came the prince's charge.
Few of Aydrian's men remained to oppose them, with most fleeing to the south and west. A second pass by Agradeleous set yet another catapult ablaze, and this time, with the prince's army closing fast, Brynn and Pagonel leaped down amidst the terrified and scattering soldiers.
Symphony and Pony were the first to join them, the erstwhile queen wasting no time in flashing off a devastating lightning stroke that splintered the wood of the one remaining catapult. The concussion of the blast dropped a dozen men to the ground; and as one, as they recovered their wits, they threw aside their weapons and begged for mercy.
Pony linked with Brynn and Pagonel, and Agradeleous set down beside them.
The devastating group overwhelmed another pocket of defense.
And then Midalis and the hordes were there, tearing through the meager force. The high ground was theirs! From that vantage point, they could clearly see the northern walls of St.-Mere-Abelle. From that vantage point, they could see the dark swarm of Aydrian's army, west of the main, western gate. The path to Aydrian was at hand.
But then a very shaken Belli'mar Juraviel stepped as if from nowhere into the midst of the leaders, wagging his head in distress. "We have been deceived," the elf wailed. "Duke Kalas has turned!"
All heads swung farther to the west, and soon enough they saw the cloud of dust rising into the air, the approach of a great army.
"How is this possible?" Prince Midalis asked the elf. "Why did your scouts not detect..."
"Aydrian," came the elf's simple answer. "Aydrian and his gemstones. We have been deceived."
"We cannot fight them all," Pony remarked.
"If we turn now, St.-Mere-Abelle is doomed," the prince replied.
"St.-Mere-Abelle is doomed in any case," Juraviel noted. "Duke Kalas' army is huge."
Prince Midalis looked all around, searching for answers. He seemed to grow more desperate by the moment, but then Pony put her hand on his arm, forcing him to calm himself and to look at her.
"We have nowhere to run," the woman told him.
Prince Midalis nodded his agreement. "Then let us fight," he replied, his voice full of determination.
"So it begins," Aydrian announced, sitting astride his horse before the gates of St.-Mere-Abelle. He turned to a young monk standing beside him.
"You have brought the items as I instructed?"
"Yes, my lord," the man sheepishly replied, and he handed Aydrian a quiver of arrows.
Smiling widely, Aydrian calmly told Marcalo De'Unnero to order the catapults to pound at the door, and to begin the charge for the main gates. Then the young king drew one of the arrows from the quiver and held it up before his eyes, marveling at the small ruby that had been secured to its shaft, just below the arrowhead.
He was still staring at it when De'Unnero returned to his side. "You cannot think to..." the monk began, but Aydrian merely laughed, stopping him.
The young king took out a soul stone and pulled his great bow, the bow of his father, from the side of his saddle, and, with a fluid movement, strung Hawkwing.
"I have not practiced my archery as much as I should have," he lamented, as the catapults fired and his warriors took up the charge. With a shrug, Aydrian set the ruby-imbued arrow to the bowstring. "Still, I expect that I can place the arrow close enough to the gate towers to cause a bit of discomfort."
Inside the uppermost open rooms in the gate towers flanking the main door of the great monastery, the brothers of St.-Mere-Abelle responded to the assault with blasts of magical lightning, like blue-white arms reaching down to sting and slam the front ranks of the charging warriors.
In the left-hand tower room, flanking Father Abbot Fio Bou-raiy, Bishop Braumin cheered his brothers on, imploring them to throw every ounce of energy they could muster into their initial blasts. Braumin had seen Aydrian quiet the magical response in Palmaris, after all, and he could only assume that the young king would similarly cover his attackers here.
Father Abbot Bou-raiy also implored the brothers, yelling out to them, reminding them that St.-Mere-Abelle had never fallen and telling them that it would not do so now! From both towers and all along the walls at the front of the monastery came a thunderous response. With gemstones and crossbows, with boiling oil and heavy stones, the brothers and the peasant army fought hard against the crush.
Bishop Braumin did notice the group of figures across the field, watching it all, and he knew that Aydrian and De'Unnero were among them. He took little interest in them, however, for they seemed far out of his magical reach; and so he didn't even see the young king, still sitting astride his horse, lift his great feather-tipped elven bow and let fly a solitary arrow.
The missile, to any who noticed, seemed like nothing at all, a minor bolt amidst a swarm of carnage. It arced perfectly through the morning sky, descending to the open tower top room on the right-hand side of the battered gate. Nor did any of the monks notice the presence that accompanied that missile, the spirit of Aydrian, moving out of body, retaining his connection with the ruby set in the arrow's shaft.
The arrow clicked down against the stone, shattering as it hit the ledge of the great open window in the tower.
And then it exploded, a tremendous fireball blasting through the tower room, silencing the magical defenses of the monks in a burst of sudden and terrifying flame.
"By God," Braumin Herde muttered, stunned by the magical display. The man's knees went weak beneath him as he heard the screams from across the way, as he saw one man and then another leap out of the tower, flames clinging to every part of their bodies. "By God."
"Sunstone shields!" Fio Bou-raiy cried desperately, for when he looked across the field, he could see Aydrian lifting his bow yet again. The monks scrambled to produce the proper stones, but they were not in time.
A second arrow came down from on high, arcing into the courtyard behind the gate itself. The ensuing fireball had the peasant force gathered there in defense of the gate screaming and running, many of them with flames leaping from their clothing, their hair, their skin. Even worse for the integrity of the defense, the flames caught on the great beams holding the door, as well.
"Get some serpentine down there!" Fio Bou-raiy cried. "Get some water down there!"
Braumin Herde, his body glowing blue-white now from a serpentine shield he had enacted, fell over Fio Bou-raiy, and worked feverishly to include the man within the shield, even as the third magical fireball went off, this one blasting through the room that contained the leader.
Braumin flew back from the force of the blow, but held stubbornly on to Bou-raiy, even when they crashed against the back wall. Still holding tight, the bishop climbed to his feet and pulled the Father Abbot up with him, then ushered the man from the burning room, down the tower's spiral staircase, and out of the structure altogether.
"Hold as long as you can, then organize a retreat to the cellars," he instructed Master Machuso out in the courtyard. "We must make them fight for every inch of ground. We must make them climb over the bodies of their dead comrades every step of the way!"
The old master nodded his agreement and ran off, rallying the brothers and the peasants against the unexpected devastation, making sure that the sunstone shields were being emblazed all across the battle zone. And indeed, the next ruby-set arrow that soared in from across the way crossed into an area of antimagic, where Aydrian's spirit was repulsed.
The fireball did not explode.
"A conventional battle, then," Master Machuso remarked, and he nodded grimly, certain that he and his brethren could give this enemy all that they could handle with or without magic.
His determination turned to great hope soon after, when cries echoed down from the northern stretches of the monastery wall, heralding the arrival of a second force, led by Prince Midalis.
Aydrian and De'Unnero soon heard the rumors, as well, and soon after that, saw the force of Prince Midalis, charging hard from the north.
"We'll pivot and move them out from the wall," De'Unnero reasoned.
"Then Midalis will flee inside the monastery," Aydrian reasoned. "And that, we do not want."
De'Unnero started away, but Aydrian reached down and stopped him, grabbing him by the shoulder. "Look there," the young king explained, motioning toward the west. "Duke Kalas will see to the army of Prince Midalis."
De'Unnero settled immediately as yet another army made its appearance on the field, charging in hard from the west. Duke Kalas had returned, with a force three times the size of the one Midalis had brought. A quick glance to the north and then back to the west showed the young king and the fierce monk the truth of it. Prince Midalis would not make the gate before Duke Kalas.
"Duke Kalas will have the fight without well in hand," Aydrian assured the monk. "Come, let us go to the gate and see to the fight within."
Aydrian had to walk his horse in a zigzag course to avoid the carnage before the gate and walls of St.-Mere-Abelle. He figured that more than a third of his force of five thousand were down, but he didn't care - for the gate had been weakened, and the defenses were tiring. Connected through his hematite, he could tell that there was some sunstone antimagic about, but it was nothing substantial out here, beyond the gate, and certainly nothing that would inhibit the power of King Aydrian.
Like a wave, his men parted before him, opening a line to the great portal.
Aydrian drew out Tempest and leveled the blade, then sent every bit of his strength into the graphite set within the sword, and a tremendous white bolt of lightning shot forth.
The doors shuddered inward; the great locking beams - weakened by the fires and the press - snapped apart.
The swarm flowed into the courtyard of St.-Mere-Abelle.
"Kill all who will not yield," Aydrian told his men and, flanked by Sadye and Marcalo De'Unnero, the young king walked his horse into the monastery's courtyard.
"We're too late," Prince Midalis lamented when he saw the approach of the huge army, angling to intercept him.
"Flee or fight?" Bradwarden asked.
Prince Midalis turned a steely eyed gaze the centaur's way.
"Fight well and die well!" Bradwarden roared, and he took up his pipes.
The men from Vanguard and Alpinador formed into a defensive square about Midalis and Bruinhelde and the other leaders, setting themselves against Kalas' charge.
An arm of the duke's army swung around to the north to seal off any retreat, but the prince's warriors had no intention of fleeing.
As one, the prince and his forces ducked low, as Agradeleous soared above him, Brynn and Pagonel taking the dragon out in a sudden charge. They got near to the opposing army, with Agradeleous even managing to spew forth his breath at one leading group of soldiers, but then such a hail of arrows reached up at them that Brynn was forced to turned her beast about and fly fast away.
"Well disciplined," Pony remarked to Midalis. "Let us see how they deal with me." She reached forth her arm and jolted the nearest group of infantry with a blast of lightning, all of the men falling to the ground and jerking about wildly.
"Ride with us!"
Pagonel shouted to Prince Midalis as Brynn brought the dragon down beside him. "We cannot fight our way through the whole of King Aydrian's army with any hope of stopping him!"
Prince Midalis looked around at the other leaders.
"Go!" Andacanavar shouted at him.
"Be quick!" Bruinhelde agreed. "We'll give these attackers second thoughts!" The barbarian leader turned to his men, then, and shouted, "Fight well and die well!" And that cry was echoed enthusiastically all along the Alpinadoran line.
Prince Midalis scrambled up behind Pagonel. "Find Aydrian," he bade the mystic and Brynn.
"I can smell him," came the growling response from Agradeleous, and the dragon leaped away.
"Neither is our place here," Belli'mar Juraviel said to Pony and Bradwarden. Even as he spoke, they heard Aydrian's thunder, and the cries from inside the monastery's walls. "He has found his way in!" Juraviel shouted. "We must stop him!"
Pony on Symphony and Bradwarden moved close to the elf, who lifted his open hand, showing the emerald of Andur'Blough Inninness. "You are ranger first," he said to Andacanavar.
The big man hesitated and looked nervously to Bruinhelde.
"Go and kill him in battle!" Bruinhelde said without the slightest hesitation. "I'll die singing your name, mighty Andaeanavar!"
A moment later, Belli'mar Juraviel and his four companions took a gigantic step, right past the southern edge of Duke Kalas' approaching forces, to appear near the broken gate of St.-Mere-Abelle.
They charged immediately for that gate, striking hard at the stragglers of Aydrian's force. Behind them, they heard the concussion as Duke Kalas' force collided with the warriors of Vanguard and Alpinador.
Pony tried hard not to hear those cries.
Braumin Herde left Father Abbot Bou-raiy and the others in the great hall of the main keep. The former bishop of Palmaris rushed up the wide stairway and ran along the balcony, then went up again, using a circular stair that would take him to the keep's highest level, and up again along the same stairs to the flat and defended roof of the structure.
From there, he could see the sweep of Duke Kalas' forces, locked in ferocious battle with Prince Midalis' men outside the monastery's walls.
From there, he could see the great dragon, three figures atop it, soaring about the battlefield, apparently battling on Prince Midalis' side.
Braumin Herde had no idea what the fire-breathing beast was all about, or where it had come from, or why it might be allied with the prince, but he was surely thrilled to discern that it was an ally and not an enemy! Any hope the dragon inspired could not hold for long, though, for Braumin's gaze was inevitably drawn back within the abbey, where pockets of fighting had erupted in every building and all along the wall. Men were dying by the score, Braumin knew, and there was nothing he could do.
He continued his scan, then froze in place, his gaze settling on a group making its way across the courtyard from the broken gate.
"Who is that?" one younger brother asked of him, following his lead.
Braumin Herde couldn't get the names of King Aydrian and Marcalo De'Unnero out of his mouth. "Our worst nightmare," he did manage to whisper.
"What are we to do, master?" the young monk asked, and Braumin glanced over at him, to see several others staring at him for some guidance here.
"Pray, brothers," he said. "Shoot straight and pray loudly."
With a deep breath, Braumin steadied his feet under him and headed back for the stairway and back into the keep.
"The rat has retreated to his hole, it would seem," Aydrian remarked, motioning toward the solid keep across the courtyard and overlooking All Saints Bay.
"Then let us go and kill the creature," De'Unnero agreed.
Aydrian and Sadye paused then, hearing the pop of bone from their companion. De'Unnero was wearing his monk robe, and so they couldn't see the details of the transformation. Under the folds of that robe, they did see the movement of his limbs, though, as his legs transformed into those of a mighty tiger.
"I will join with you inside," De'Unnero explained, and he leaped gracefully away, sprinting across the rest of the courtyard to the base of the keep's solid wall. With hardly an effort, it seemed, the weretiger leaped straight up, landing lightly on the sill of a second-story window.
With a glance back at Aydrian, De'Unnero slipped inside onto the balcony in the great hall. He moved across to the solid railing and peeked over, looking down upon Fio Bou-raiy, who was seated on the single throne and flanked by several of St.-Mere-Abelle's masters.
De'Unnero glanced about, noting the statues set in alcoves at the back of the balcony. The railing was high and solid, providing good cover, and the monk figured that he could get to the stairs easily enough without being seen.
Looking at the stairs, or more particularly, at the huge circular window set in the wall above them, did give him pause, though. The morning light streamed through that window, that image of Avelyn's upraised arm.
Before De'Unnero moved again, he heard the door in the room below crash open, and he knew that King Aydrian had arrived.
It pained Prince Midalis to leave his men. He wanted to stay, with the dragon and the mystic, and the woman with her devastating bow.
And Brynn was nothing short of amazing, up there on Agradeleous, flying cover for the soldiers battling below.
"I smell him!" Agradeleous cried over and over again.
"Then find him!" Pagonel demanded.
With a flap of his leathery wings, Agradeleous lifted higher into the air, then slowly turned about and fell into a dive past the northern edge of the monastery and down over the cliff facing, gathering speed as he went.
Prince Midalis watched the battle until the dragon dove low, the cliffs shutting him off from his warriors, from Liam O'Blythe and Bruinhelde and all the others.
He could still hear their battle cries, however.
He knew that he had to trust.
They plowed through the confusion at the broken gate. If two warriors trained in bi'nelle dasada weren't enough to scatter Aydrian's forces clustered there, the sheer strength of Bradwarden and the well-placed arrows of Belli'mar Juraviel surely were.
Pony rolled down from Symphony, falling into place beside the Alpinadoran ranger. As soon as they engaged a group of opponents together, it became apparent that she and Andacanavar couldn't quite find the level of harmony that the woman had once enjoyed with Elbryan. For the barbarian's sword dance had been adapted to fit his physical size and strength. When a soldier charged at him, he parried with a horizontal blade and quick- stepped back, typical of the dance. But then Andacanavar slid his back foot to the side and stepped out wide. Halting his progress, he reversed momentum, coming across with a devastating slash of his elven greatsword that laid low his foolishly pursuing opponent.
Andacanavar's sidelong step left Pony out alone for a moment against two other warriors, but the woman worked her sword quickly and accurately, turning thrust after thrust with apparent ease.
Then Bradwarden stepped up to fill the void left by the Alpinadoran ranger. The centaur stabbed his huge bow out as if it were a spear, just as one of Pony's opponents broke from her and charged at him. The tip of the bow caught the man just below his breastplate and the centaur drove ahead and up, lifting him right from the ground. Arms and legs flailing, he went tumbling back, and when he finally caught himself and tried to come back in, the centaur had that bow leveled his way, an arrow that seemed more like a heavy spear set on its bowstring! The man screamed and turned and scrambled past a comrade who was charging in to join the fight.
A slight shift put the arrow in line with this newcomer, and the centaur's arrow blasted through his metal breastplate, lifting him from his feet and throwing him back and to the ground.
Off to the side, Pony parried and retreated, then came back suddenly as her opponent lifted his sword above his shoulder. Her reversed movement, a brilliant execution of the sword dance, was too quick for her opponent even to register it. His eyes wide with sudden horror, the man could not hope to bring his sword down to deflect the thrust.
Pony struck true, her sword sliding into the Kingsman's belly, and he fell away, howling and clutching at the wound.
Another man came in fast for Pony's side, but she turned in time to parry.
He never got that close, though, stopping suddenly and grasping at the small arrow that found his throat.
Pony glanced back over her shoulder and then up, to see Juraviel perched atop one of the huge open doors, bow in hand. The elf offered a wink and a nod.
Even as Pony lowered her gaze somewhat, she saw another man fall away, creased by Andacanavar's slashing sword; then another fell to the great ranger as he came out of the slash and right into a devastating long thrust.
The four could stand there and defeat any who came against them, Pony understood. But that was hardly the point, and killing soldiers unwittingly serving Aydrian brought her no joy, and no hope.
Glancing across the courtyard, she saw a robed figure rise up in a great leap, as if magically, along the wall of the great keep, and she knew beyond any doubt that it could be only one man.
"Get me there!" the woman cried to Bradwarden and Andacanavar, and when they looked her way, she indicated the base of the wall across the way.
"Elf!" Bradwarden called, but when he looked at the open door, Juraviel was not to be found. "The hard way then!" the centaur roared, and he and Andacanavar flanked Pony and started across. Few of the soldiers wanted to face them, obviously, but in the chaos that was the courtyard of St.- Mere-Abelle, some did indeed find themselves caught before the charge of the trio.
Bradwarden simply ran one down, trampling him to the ground.
Andacanavar leaped past the centaur and felled two others with a great sidelong slash.
And Pony fell in behind the centaur, intercepted the thrusting sword of a man thinking to stab at the creature's exposed flank. The woman rolled her sword over the attacker's, then drove it down. Sensing a second attacker coming in at her back, she turned and stepped forward, releasing the sword and snapping her pommel up into the first man's face, staggering him. Then she called for Bradwarden, and the centaur glanced back, shifted his weight to his front hooves, and double-kicked with his rear legs just as the second man went rushing by.
By the time the centaur's back legs touched down, Pony had finished the stunned man off and was already moving past him.
Their swath of devastation got them to the wall in short order.
"Help me," the woman bade them, motioning to the second-story window - the same window through which she had seen Marcalo De'Unnero disappear.
Andacanavar hoisted her atop Bradwarden's back, then spun about to join battle with stubborn pursuers.
"Ye ready?" the centaur asked.
"Go!" came the reply, Pony fishing in her pouch for her gemstones.
Bradwarden's buck lifted her into the air, and she caught herself with the magic of the malachite, activating its levitation so that she continued up, up until she had gained the ledge.
She went inside as Juraviel reappeared, fluttering to the ledge to replace her. The elf started to follow her in, but then stopped and turned his attention back to the scene below, where a host of enemies had come suddenly against Bradwarden and Andacanavar.
"Good to have ye back, elf!" the centaur cried as one man, against whom the already-engaged Bradwarden could offer no defense, staggered backward instead of charging in, an arrow sticking out from his forehead.
"Someone has to keep you out of trouble, fool centaur!" Juraviel called back.
* * * "How dare you desecrate this holy place!" Fio Bou-raiy screamed at Aydrian, and the Father Abbot came out of his throne to boldly face the approaching young king even as his fellow Abellicans fell back before the spectacle of the magnificent man.
"Desecrate?" Aydrian echoed. "I am returning St.-Mere-Abelle to its former glory!" He hadn't even drawn Tempest from its sheath, but had slipped a lodestone into one hand. Rather than targeting any metal on Bou-raiy directly, Aydrian focused instead on a plate set at the top of the throne behind the man.
"How dare you?" Bou-raiy yelled again, and he lifted his hand toward Aydrian, revealing his own lodestone.
Sadye cried out, but she needn't have worried, for both men let fly their magical stones at the same time.
Despite his anger, which led him to throw more energy into the stone than he had ever before managed, Bou-raiy's missile clanged against Aydrian's brilliant breastplate, making little more than a loud ring.
Aydrian's stone, though, smashed through Bou-raiy's extended hand, shattering bones and even removing two of his fingers. Then it, too, rang loudly as it smacked against the metal plate on the chair - after blowing a hole through the Father Abbot's head.
"You cannot defeat me, you cannot deny me," Aydrian told the stunned masters as Fio Bou-raiy's lifeless body dropped to the floor.
"Then we shall die, but die in the hopes of salvation!" one of the men cried, and he lifted a stone Aydrian's way.
"And damnation to you and to the cursed De'Unnero!" another yelled.
"Indeed!" came a shout from the balcony overlooking the room, and all turned to see Marcalo De'Unnero, standing at the rail and smiling widely.
Sadye took up a song to the glory of King Aydrian. De'Unnero started along the rail for the stairs.
And Aydrian snapped Tempest from its sheath, and melted one of the masters with a lightning bolt that shook the ground and stunned them all.
Crouched in the shadows behind one of the statues along the backside of the balcony, Braumin Herde, dagger in hand, came out fast right behind the distracted De'Unnero.
Even as he went to strike, even as Aydrian moved to destroy another of the masters and even as that man and his fellows moved to return the attack upon Aydrian, the great circular window, the image of St. Avelyn's arm, exploded inward. Black metal twisted and folded, and shards of multicolored glass showered the room, and the image of the upraised arm was replaced by that of a great dragon, wings outstretched! Despite the explosion and the appearance of the beast, Braumin held his concentration and followed through with his attack, for to him there was no greater monster in all the world than Marcalo De'Unnero. He thought he had his opening, thought he had his kill, the blade stabbing fast for the fierce monk's kidney, but then De'Unnero's hand snapped around so suddenly! The superb warrior caught Braumin's thrusting arm by the wrist and stopped the attack as surely as would a stone wall.
Braumin Herde cried out but pressed on, diving above that block and aiming his free hand for De'Unnero's head.
But De'Unnero's free hand came about as the fierce monk pivoted to face Braumin squarely, and he easily turned the punch aside.
Braumin's thoughts were whirling, for he knew that he was badly overmatched here. Before he could even recognize what was happening, he found himself free of the clench and the press, as De'Unnero fell back.
His first instincts told him to pursue, but Braumin caught himself and tried to retreat instead.
But too late, for De'Unnero had pulled back only that he could set and leap into a spinning circle kick. His tiger's foot came around behind Braumin's upraised, blocking arms, and caught the bishop across the face, knocking out more than a few teeth and sending Braumin flying to the side, to crash hard against the wall.
Dazed and stumbling, Braumin would have fallen to the floor, but De'Unnero caught him and held him there with a series of vicious and devastating blows that shattered his ribs and cracked his cheekbone.
All the world rushed away from the bishop as blackness leaped up to swallow him.
A scream from a voice that he knew so well tore De'Unnero from his murderous frenzy. There ran Sadye, up the stairs, bleeding from many cuts, her face locked in an expression of terror.
She cried out for help.
She cried out for Aydrian to save her.
She did not call out for De'Unnero, and that realization froze the monk in place. He watched as a lithe, black-haired woman dropped down from the dragon, followed by a man whom De'Unnero recognized as Prince Midalis himself! Neither paid much heed to Sadye, though, as they charged down the debris-covered stairs.
A third figure remained on the great wurm, holding the beast steady - until there came an explosion that eclipsed even the thunder of the dragon's unexpected arrival. A bolt of the purest white light reached up at the beast, blinding everyone in the room. Arcs of energy crackled all about the dragon, and the force of the blast blew dragon and rider right back out the shattered window.
De'Unnero recovered his sensibilities and glanced back to ensure that Braumin wasn't going to be getting up anytime soon. He understood that Aydrian was facing formidable enemies, but still, he would have gone to Sadye and not Aydrian.
If only she had been calling his name! The monk growled and ran to the railing, taking in the scene. He moved to leap right over, to drop the thirty feet to the floor and rush to Aydrian's side, but again he was stopped, by yet another familiar voice.
"Brighter would all the world be if Marcalo De'Unnero had died that day in Palmaris," said Pony.
De'Unnero fell back behind the railing and slowly turned to face his most-hated adversary.
Agradeleous fell from the monastery, twirling weirdly as one wing or another unfolded and caught the updrafts rising along the steep cliff face.
"Agradeleous!" Pagonel screamed in the dragon's ear. "I need you!"
The dark stones of the cliff rushed past; the dark waters of All Saints Bay reached up at them.
"Awaken!" the mystic ordered. "I need you! The whole world needs you! Too many rocks loomed below them, Pagonel knew, and he had no hope that either he or Agradeleous would survive the fall. That was to say if the dragon wasn't already dead. For the blast of lightning from young Aydrian had been the greatest show of magic, the greatest show of sheer power, Pagonel had ever witnessed.
"Agradeleous!" he cried one last time before they both would have smashed into the surf and the rocks.
The dragon's leathery wings extended suddenly and the beast arched its back, changing the angle. Pagonel nearly fell as the creature's plummet became a sudden swoop, Agradeleous soaring out fast across the waters.
"I need you!" Pagonel cried into the wind, but Agradeleous seemed not to hear him.
"My mortal enemy!" the dragon roared. "From time uncounted! The demon awakens!"
Those words surely put the mystic back in his seat. "What do you mean?"
he shouted.
"As it was eons ago, when dragon and demon shared the world!" the dragon roared on, still seeming not to hear him.
Pagonel continued to scream at him, and finally, the dragon took note and stopped his bellowing long enough to listen.
"What do you mean?" the mystic demanded. "This young King Aydrian, trained by the Touel'alfar, the human son of Elbryan and Jilseponie - "
"Is more than that!" the dragon interrupted. "He is not man, this young King Aydrian! Not wholly so. It is the beast, the mortal bane of dragonkind!"
Pagonel nearly swooned. He remembered the encounter at the Entel house, when Aydrian and Agradeleous had first seen each other, when both had launched into a primal fury at the mere sight of the other! Could it be true? "Then back to wage battle!" Pagonel cried.
The dragon roared in protest and replied, "Not I!"
"This beast must be defeated!" the mystic argued.
"I cannot help you," the dragon admitted. "He is beyond me. He will dominate my thoughts and turn me against you! I cannot resist him!"
Pagonel absorbed the words and tried to find some answer. He heard the continuing battle up and behind him, within the monastery's wall and without. Men were dying by the dozen, by the score. "Then we must trust in our friends, great Agradeleous," he finally decided. "Then we find our place in saving the lives of men! Take me now, I beg you, to the north and the battle joined! I need your voice, great wurm!"
The dragon banked hard to the left, soaring around back toward shore, aiming for the sounds of battle echoing along the northern stretches of the great and ancient abbey.
The glass seemed not to have touched Aydrian, as if he were somehow proof against it. Brynn and Prince Midalis sprinted down the stairs to stand before their nemesis, while those few remaining masters cowered and crawled away, bleeding and terrified.
"So much for the word of Brynn Dharielle," Aydrian said dryly in the elven tongue. "To-gai will not go to war against me?"
"To-gai does not, and will not," Brynn stated.
"Says their leader as she stands before me, sword drawn!"
"I do not lead To-gai any longer. I have come here in response to your attacks on my other homeland, Aydrian."
The young king laughed at her. "Do not be a fool," he said. "Dasslerond is gone, and good riddance to the witch! The world is ours, yours and mine, to rule as we see fit. You would surrender all of that?"
Brynn leveled Flamedancer his way, and, seeing the motion, Prince Midalis drew out his sword as well. "I will stop you," Brynn promised.
"Yield now and be spared!" Prince Midalis demanded, and Aydrian laughed at him.
Brynn started it with a sudden thrust, stepping forward with all the speed and balance of bi'nelle dasada, her sword going for Aydrian's armored belly. His parry was easy enough, but Brynn had expected that, and so she retracted and came ahead aggressively yet again, this time stabbing for his face, and this time setting her magical blade aflame.
But Aydrian was thinking far ahead as well, and he ducked and back- stepped, slapping her blade out to the side. He left an apparent opening on his left, one that he knew Midalis would waste no time in exploiting.
But the prince did not understand the enchantment of the lodestones set in Aydrian's shining breastplate. His sword slashed in for Aydrian's shoulder, but a wave of magnetism turned it and Midalis hit nothing but air.
Aydrian's sword arm snapped across, cutting at the prince's forearm, and only Midalis' fine training allowed him to keep his moving arm far enough ahead of that blade to prevent a deep and debilitating cut.
Aydrian didn't follow through anyway, for Brynn remained on the offensive. The young king started bringing his sword back to face her, but turned it tip down and fired off a lightning bolt into the floor that staggered them all for a second and allowed him a breather.
Only then did Aydrian realize how greatly his attack on the dragon had taxed him. He had thrown every bit of himself into that lightning bolt, even beyond a rational level. His hatred of the beast had come from somewhere deeper, somewhere more primal.
He was not too concerned, though, for he knew that his magical energy would soon return, and he held all confidence that he could defeat these two even without the aid of the gemstones.
He parried Brynn's next attack, rolling his blade over hers expertly, and was about to counter when he sensed that stubborn Midalis coming in again at his side.
A quick turn and a riposte had the prince staggering backward.
Aydrian couldn't suppress a smile, for he could already feel his magical energies replenishing, could already feel the tug of the graphite and the ruby set in Tempest's hilt.
Time worked on his side.
Men screamed and died all about it, but the creature didn't notice.
Singular in purpose, it walked across the field outside of St.-Mere- Abelle, oblivious to the vicious battle raging, oblivious to the war cries and charge of the Alpinadorans, stubbornly pushing back Duke Kalas' flank. Oblivious to the charge of the Allheart Brigade, which cut prince Midalis' force into two separate groups.
The zombie moved to the gates, to the call of its master.
Nothing else mattered.
Not the arguing below, nor the first sounds of battle, not even the arrival and ejection of the great dragon, could turn Pony's attention from this man standing before her, this man who had killed her beloved Elbryan, this man who had ever been her most hated enemy. She could see De'Unnero's arm transforming into a tiger's paw as he calmly stalked toward her, seeming as focused as she in their mutual hatred.
She lifted her left hand. "Go sleep with the demons," she said.
De'Unnero didn't leap aside, didn't turn away, didn't move to respond.
Pony hit him with a blast of magical lightning, one that burned a hole in his robe and staggered him back several steps. But on he came again, stubbornly, too full of hatred even to care.
She hit him with another blast, but a lesser one, and then they were into it, claw against sword, bi'nelle dasada against the man's years of training in the Abellican fighting arts. He was quicker than she, and stronger than she, but the woman managed to keep him at bay with her longer weapon.
She saw an opening and stabbed ahead, but De'Unnero was gone. Simply gone, propelled away by a twitch of his powerful feline legs.
Pony spun and slashed, and when her sword again hit nothing, she sent out a stunning wave of lightning magic, emanating in all directions from her form. She heard a gasp and whirled about, meeting De'Unnero's charge with a slash of her sword that scored a hit on his forearm even as his claw painfully tore at her wrist above the pommel.
The monk retreated, as did Pony, and then De'Unnero leaped ahead suddenly.
Pony fended with a series of sudden and vicious cuts, but again she was forced to retreat, and then again as De'Unnero stubbornly rushed right back at her.
He wasn't trying to score a hit on that next attack, she understood, but rather, was backing her up dangerously close to the wide stairway.
Mobility was her advantage against the ferocity of the monk, and he was trying to take that away.
Pony hit him with another lightning bolt, and this one seemed to catch him off guard and stagger him just a bit.
But as much as she wanted to, Pony couldn't exploit that moment of opportunity, for another form appeared at her side, rushing up the stairs and brandishing a sword that she knew all too well.
"Good fortune is mine," the woman muttered under her breath and she swung about to deflect Sadye's awkward attack. She stepped right past the turned blades, right up before the bard, and backhandedly slapped her across the face, and then hit her again. She grabbed the woman's extended arm and turned under it, spinning about and dragging Sadye before her as a shield.
That movement stopped the stubborn De'Unnero in his tracks, and put an expression on his face that Pony hardly recognized. Sadness? Confusion? Surely it was nothing she had ever before seen on the face of the fierce and unrepentant monk.
Pony pushed aside her own surprise and tugged down hard on Sadye's pinned sword arm, twisting it so that she could pull Defender free of the woman's weakened grasp. Even as she executed the transfer, Pony raised one foot to the small of the woman's back and kicked ahead, sending her flying for the floor at De'Unnero's feet. Sadye gave a cry as De'Unnero caught her, and started to reach out as if to embrace him. But with a half twist, the monk callously sent the bard sliding away behind him.
On came De'Unnero again, but now Pony possessed a much finer blade. Her riposte came quicker, and she even scored a slight hit as she backed the monk away several steps.
"By God, what hellish enemies have come against us?" one of the brothers of St.-Mere-Abelle cried when he ran along the courtyard beside some of his brethren, a group led by Master Viscenti.
They all paused and looked to the base of the keep, where Bradwarden and Andacanavar were battling mightily against a host of attackers.
"No enemies!" a jubilant Viscenti cried. "Get to them, my friends! Behold, hope has arrived within our walls!" He looked up from the battling duo and saw another familiar form, crouched in the window, his small bow raining arrows on those who opposed Bradwarden and the great Alpinadoran.
And as they made their way to join the warrior, Viscenti saw yet another familiar figure, a magnificent horse trotting about the grounds, riderless. The last time he had seen Symphony, King Aydrian had been riding the steed. Was it possible that Aydrian had been taken down? "Well met, little one!" Bradwarden cried when the monks finally got there, adding crossbows and a bit of magic to the effectiveness of the already-devastating duo. "We'll chase them all back, we will!"
"Good Bradwarden..." Viscenti started to reply, but the words were lost in the din of a tremendous cry, a voice greater than anything any of them had ever before heard.
"STAY YOUR WEAPON HANDS!" Agradeleous roared as Pagonel took him soaring across the breadth of the courtyard. "WHAT WORTH DYING FOR AYDRIAN OR FOR MIDALIS, WHEN THEY ALONE WILL DETERMINE WHICH LEAVES AS KING? THEY ARE JOINED NOW IN MORTAL COMBAT, AND ONLY ONE WILL EMERGE. STAY YOUR WEAPON HANDS, GOOD PEOPLE. ALLOW THOSE TWO TO DETERMINE WHICH IS KING!"
The beast flew overhead and continued its cry, but pointedly banked away from the tower and flew out to the north, where the fighting raged.
The fighting did calm somewhat, though whether that had anything to do with the actual words of Agradeleous, or simply because so many had dived aside and cowered at the mere sight of the great beast, none could tell.
Aydrian continued the rhythm of the battle quite easily, and felt his magical energies rejuvenating. He parried Brynn's next thrust and brought his sword flashing across to intercept Midalis' slash, and even managed to stab back the other way, piercing the side of an Abellican master who was trying to slip away. The man fell with a groan, and Aydrian spun right back, to parry once and then again, as Brynn pressed the attack.
Aydrian wondered which of his opponents he should destroy with his lightning. Midalis, he supposed, for he held hope that Brynn could be brought over to his side. He started to reach into the graphite set in Tempest's pommel.
But a distraction came to him, a sensation, a call from the netherworld that he could not ignore. Initial surprise and even fear fast gave way to an almost giddy sense of superiority as he recognized the source of that call, as he turned toward the door to see his latest creation of magic walk into the room.
"You have come in with rangers at your side, Prince Midalis," he said. "I salute you in your wisdom of acquiring both my mother and Brynn Dharielle!"
"And Andacanavar, fool Aydrian," Midalis retorted. "Surely you have heard the name!"
"Then all the rangers of all the world are gathered here!" Aydrian replied excitedly. "What a wondrous sight! Three for Midalis, for I offer my mother that title, and two for Aydrian!"
"Two?" Brynn asked, and she paused in her attacks and skittered back.
Aydrian spun aside, moving around the back of the blood-and brain- spattered throne, thus changing the angle of battle so that all three turned sidelong to the door, so positioned that all could witness the entrance of the zombie Elbryan.
"What have you done?" Brynn gasped.
Aydrian held up a soul stone and fell into it, bringing forth the energies of the netherworld, and all the room was bathed in shadow, a blackish blue glow that emanated from his hand. That nether energy reached out from Aydrian to the ragged zombie, and the creature stood straighter suddenly, and moved less stiffly, and its wounds seemed to heal, as if the body had begun recomposing itself.
A moment later, the creature seemed not a rotting zombie, but Elbryan again, except that his features were all gray and dark.
"Behold Elbryan, the Nightbird!" Aydrian cried. "Welcome, my father," he said to the specter, and he casually tossed Tempest to his ally and motioned at Brynn, as he ordered, "Destroy her."
Before Brynn or Midalis could begin to ask, the specter of Elbryan launched himself in perfect balance across the way, attacking Brynn with such ferocity and cunning strikes that she had to fall back in full defense.
Aydrian turned on Midalis. "King to king, then," he said, and he pulled Hawkwing from off his back and held the unstrung bow before him as a staff. "Honce-the-Bear is mine, fool Ursal. The time of your line is at its end."
Prince Midalis gave a desperate cry and came on hard.
Those bluish black shadows reached up to the balcony as well, bathing Pony and De'Unnero in their strange and unearthly haze.
Then came the declaration of Aydrian, and both combatants worked toward the balcony, then broke off from combat long enough to view the specter of Elbryan.
"Aydrian," De'Unnero muttered beneath his breath, hardly believing the recklessness of the young king.
But when the worried monk turned back to regard Pony, he understood. All along, Aydrian had insisted that Jilseponie was no real threat to him, and that he knew how to take the strength from her. Now, looking at her bloodless face, her mouth hanging open as if she had forcibly to gasp simply to draw breath, the monk surely understood.
De'Unnero laughed at the woman. "He has the power over death itself." he said, and he began a cautious stalk at the horrified and paralyzed Pony.
She seemed so old to De'Unnero suddenly, so weak and even pitiful.
"Perhaps one day your magnificent son will retrieve your rotting corpse from the cold ground to do his bidding."
De'Unnero stalked in, and Pony just fell back against the wall - Defender's tip pointing down - not even assuming any semblance of defense.
To De'Unnero, it was almost disappointingly easy.
Agradeleous' cry for a halt in the fighting had less obvious effect on the battle raging outside of St.-Mere-Abelle's wall. Outnumbered, but full of their battle lust, the Alpinadorans brought fire into the hearts of Prince Midalis' forces. And Duke Kalas and his Allhearts were not to be outdone! The skilled Kingsmen archers did not run and cower, but turned their great bows skyward and sent stinging volleys at the dragon and its rider.
Pagonel, an arrow in his shoulder and another in his thigh, knew that he had to take a different tack. He guided Agradeleous down fast for the center of the fighting, where Duke Kalas and the Allhearts had joined in battle with Bruinhelde and the Alpinadorans. Roaring all the way, Agradeleous skidded down, tearing up the field.
Pagonel jumped from the dragon's shoulder, falling into a roll and then coming out of it in a great leap at Duke Kalas himself. The Allheart couldn't begin to get his sword in line to intercept the unexpected human missile, and could only grab on as Pagonel impacted, the momentum taking them both off the back of the horse to crash to the ground.
"Dragon!" the mystic yelled, and Agradeleous roared out the call for a cessation of battle yet again.
Pagonel had Kalas dead, and Kalas knew it, but the mystic leaped back up, and pulled the stunned nobleman up beside him. "There is no need to continue," he explained. "One will emerge, and he will rule the land!"
"They come to our shore unbidden!" the duke protested, pointing across at Bruinhelde and his companions, but even as he spoke the words, it was obvious that Duke Kalas did not really believe them.
"There is no need!" Pagonel shouted, spinning about to face Bruinhelde, and then Liam O'Blythe, who led the Vanguardsmen. "Put up your weapons, I beg. Let no more blood be spilled this day."
Beyond the immediate area, the fighting continued, of course, and even about the dragon and the mystic, the truce, if it was one, seemed a tenuous thing at best. But the battle had indeed diminished somewhat - both without and within the monastery's walls - and that brought a sense of gratitude and calm to Pagonel, that he had done some good, at least.
She had heard many stories of the great Nightbird in her time with the Touel'alfar, of course, but Brynn could hardly believe the creature's proficiency with the blade. He countered her every attempted thrust easily and efficiently, either gliding back just barely out of reach or shifting Tempest ever so slightly to slide Flamedancer harmlessly wide.
Similarly, his own attacks came fast and precise, forcing from Brynn every bit of her energy and expertise. Even then, even righting as well as she knew that she possibly could, she understood at once that she was no match for this legendary ranger. He was too fast and too skilled - as good with the blade as Aydrian, if not better.
But she fought on anyway, with all her heart and all her skill, and tried not to consider the possibility that even if she somehow managed to get her blade past the seemingly impregnable defenses, it might not harm the otherworldly being! Across the one-step dais that held the throne, Aydrian was similarly overmatching Prince Midalis. He changed his fighting style now to accommodate a staff instead of a sword: feet wide and balanced and hands set wide on the hard silverel-enhanced wood of Hawkwing, Aydrian's movements became more animated, with broader sweeps and sudden turns that sent the staff into an over-and-under spin, side to side and back and forth.
In light of that continual dizzying display, Midalis was backing before he began any offensive move, and found himself ducking in anticipation of strikes that never came forth.
He thought he saw an opening at last, and gave a cry and charged ahead, but Aydrian laughed at him, easily sidestepped him, and cracked Hawkwing hard across his back as he lumbered past.
Two against two, Midalis and Brynn had no chance.
But then, suddenly, it became four against two, as a roaring Andacanavar and a charging Bradwarden entered the fray! It was the moment of his greatest satisfaction, the moment in which he would at last be rid of the witch, Jilseponie.
De'Unnero hardly felt the first sting in the back of his neck, but as he reached up instinctively with the hand that was still human, a second arrow stabbed him hard. Furious, the monk whirled, to see a diminutive figure perched on the window ledge, launching yet another stinging bolt his way.
Tiger legs vaulted De'Unnero forward in a sudden rush, and Juraviel simply threw his bow at the wild creature. The elf knew that he couldn't get back outside quickly enough, knew that De'Unnero had him caught side to side, as well. So he took the only possible route open to him by leaping straight ahead and to the floor instead, even as De'Unnero's tiger paw swept furiously at the ledge.
Through the monk's legs went the elf, scrambling and crawling furiously for the frozen Jilseponie.
"Pony!" he cried. "Pony! Now is not the time for weakness! Now is not the time for frailty! Pony!"
His last call came out as a gasp as the tiger's paw swept across, smashing him on the side of the head, sending him spinning across the floor to slam hard into the base of the balcony, where he lay very still.
If the words had not gotten through to the horrified Pony, the sight of her friend being knocked away surely did. Even as De'Unnero rose over her once more, she struck hard with her graphite, lifting him backward with a lightning bolt.
She hit him with another one as she stood straight. Growling ferally, the woman hit him yet again, staggering him.
Defender came up in a flash and Pony threw off all the bonds of fear and uncertainty. She led her charge with yet another lightning bolt, though its intensity was somewhat diminished.
And then she was in close to De'Unnero, stabbing, stabbing and slashing furiously, driving him back, anticipating his every move and beating him to the point.
For De'Unnero, the stunning reversal had him back on his paws. This was not Queen Jilseponie, the aging and weakening widow of dead King Danube.
This was not the broken woman who had crawled out of Ursal.
No, this was Pony, the wife of Elbryan, the same Pony who had defeated De'Unnero in Palmaris' square those many years ago, the same young and strong Pony trained and adept in the gemstones and in the elven sword dance.
The appearance of Elbryan had done this to her, had transformed her into a creature of pure outrage.
De'Unnero understood at once how badly young Aydrian had miscalculated.
Even when Andacanavar joined in beside Midalis, the two of them coordinating their attacks brilliantly and in perfect harmony, Aydrian found that he could more than hold his own. Something inside of him surfaced, some primordial, instinctual response that had him flashing Hawkwing all about magnificently, that had him turning and dodging, ducking a great slash of Andacanavar's huge sword and skipping back deftly from Midalis' sudden thrust.
And all the while, he countered with Hawkwing, sliding his hands down low on one end to swing it like a club, or moving the lead hand up suddenly and thrusting forward.
On one such thrust, Aydrian stopped suddenly, slid his hand back, and pivoted about, launching a wide and strong swing that had Midalis caught flat-footed. The prince gave a cry and fell away, but got clipped on the shoulder and had to tumble down, his sword skidding from his grasp.
Aydrian didn't pursue, but turned fast on Andacanavar.
"Your time is past, old man," he said, and he went in hard.
The barbarian started a sidelong slash, but stopped cunningly and reversed his strength, stabbing straight ahead instead.
But Aydrian was already gone, spinning to the side around the blade. He brought Hawkwing across hard, smashing the man's elbows, then retracted and slid his hands apart, stabbing the man hard in the side.
The barbarian ranger's backhand slash almost had Aydrian then, but he went down low and moved across under the slashing blade. Hawkwing took Andacanavar on the inside of the knee, driving his leg out wide and stealing his balance.
Aydrian reversed and stabbed up with the staff, catching the ranger in the groin and lifting him up on his toes. Andacanavar roared and punched down hard, but Aydrian was already moving, diving forward between his legs.
As soon as the young king got his feet under him, he cut back the other way, rushing back behind Andacanavar as the barbarian turned about, his great sword leading.
Now one clean step ahead of his opponent, Aydrian brought Hawkwing across with all his strength, and heard the crunch of bone as the hard wood connected on Andacanavar's skull.
The barbarian spun, and continued spinning, all the way to the floor, blood spilling from his ears.
Figuring the man already dead, Aydrian went in anyway, but had to pull up short and spin back at the attacking Midalis. The prince, off-balance, his sword not even securely back in his grasp, stumbled by and took a solid hit.
Midalis tried to turn as he hit the floor, but Aydrian was there, his leg solidly placed to hold the prince awkwardly, and helpless.
Prince Midalis looked up to realize his doom, the specter of Aydrian, Hawkwing high before him.
And so it ends, Midalis thought.
Across the way, Elbryan's swordplay with Brynn took on a new dimension as Bradwarden joined the fray, the ferocious and powerful centaur sweeping his heavy club to and fro with wild abandon.
"We'll get this one, lassie!" the centaur promised. His club went past the retreating specter, who then reversed his footing and charged in through the opening.
But then Brynn was there, intercepting Elbryan's sword and forcing him to back away quickly as Bradwarden's backhand nearly caught up to him.
"Ah, but we're a fine team!" the centaur roared, although Brynn, of course, couldn't understand a word of what he was saying.
With his typical lack of finesse, Bradwarden leaped ahead and gave a roar, and Elbryan came forward as well, spinning to the side.
Bradwarden tried to turn to keep up with the quick ranger, but his hooves skidded on the blood-slicked floor. He tried to scramble to hold his balance, but futilely, and his back legs went out from under him and down he went.
"I breaked me leg!" he howled soon after the snap of bone echoed through the room, and then another equine form came charging through, inadvertently clipping the centaur and sending him skidding and spinning away.
That charging horse staggered Elbryan and Brynn back, as well, cutting directly between them. The reprieve didn't last for long for the Dragon of To-gai, though, for the specter of Nightbird was right back at her, pressing his attack even more furiously.
Determined to face death boldly, Prince Midalis glared up at young Aydrian. "Never will you be king," he said.
Aydrian brought Hawkwing down.
Or started to, until Symphony charged into him, knocking him to the floor.
Prince Midalis recovered his wits quickly and went for his sword.
Aydrian, too, rolled right back to his feet. He held his hematite out toward the great stallion even as Symphony started to turn to charge again, and sent a wave of dominating willpower at the horse, filtering it through the magical turquoise set in Symphony's breast.
Aydrian found that he couldn't so easily dominate Symphony as he once had, but he had the beast stalled, at least, kicking and bucking and throwing its head in protest.
Aydrian was ready for Midalis as the man stubbornly came at him again. He blocked a pair of weak attacks, and thrust his staff hard into the prince's belly, taking his breath and sending him stumbling backward, clutching at his midsection.
"It would have been so much easier and cleaner if the horse hadn't come in," Aydrian remarked, and he stalked in for the kill.
In her rage, it was as if the energy of her youth had returned in full.
Pony fought with fury, stabbing Defender all about De'Unnero to keep him off-balance and constantly backing. Every time the monk tried to counter, Defender was there, stabbing hard and forcing him aside, and, every so often, Pony hit him with a lightning bolt, a minor sting to be sure. But these nicks and stings were starting to take their toll on the battered De'Unnero.
And so he gathered up his strength and came at her hard and desperately, knowing that time was not on his side.
But Pony knew that, too, so she was not taken by surprise as De'Unnero leaped forward over her extended sword, pouncing for her head.
She smashed him with a lightning bolt, the force of it catching him in his descent and holding him aloft for just a moment - long enough for the woman to bring her sword above her! Defender slid in under the descending monk's ribs, up into a lung.
Pony spun out from under him, guiding him to the side with her blade. She pulled the sword free as De'Unnero tumbled down, and stabbed him again and again, gashing his arms, human hand and tiger paw, as he tried to fend her, stabbing his leg hard as he tried to scramble away.
He tried to come up, suddenly, reversing direction, but the infuriated woman was ready for him again, bringing Defender down in a hard slash that tore through skin and smashed the monk's collarbone. As his arm went weak under him, De'Unnero lost his balance and fell down flat on his back.
Gasping for breath, he stared up at the victorious Pony.
"And you think those wounds will heal," she said, and she batted his one blocking arm aside and fell over him, thrusting her hand right into the monk's deepest wound.
De'Unnero gasped again, his mouth twisting in a silent question.
"Do you feel it?" Pony asked him, and she drove her hand in harder. "Do you feel that stone, Marcalo De'Unnero?"
She sent her energy into the stone she held inside the monk's body.
A sunstone.
Pony felt the resistance of the healing magic that had sustained De'Unnero in health and youth for so many years, the magic that had allowed him to recover from the mortal wounds she had inflicted upon him in their fight in Palmaris those years before.
De'Unnero's one working arm, his human arm, snapped up and grabbed her by the wrist.
"This time you are dead, Marcalo De'Unnero," the woman promised, and she growled and drove on, the sunstone antimagic pushing through the monk's healing magical shield.
As if resigned to the truth of her words, De'Unnero let go of her and settled back.
As if somehow pleased by this final ending, the monk looked up at her, his face showing acceptance. He looked her in the eye, nodded, and slumped back.
Pony knew that she couldn't stop there. She spun about, to see Juraviel crumpled against the wall, and Braumin lying on the floor, weeping and curled, and clutching at his many wounds.
She heard the fighting down below, and knew that she had to press on. She moved to the stairs, past the sobbing Sadye, and looked down upon the spectacle - -down upon her lost husband, Elbryan, brought forth by the abomination that was her son.
There were still pockets of fighting on the field, and some of it was ferocious, but at the center of the lines, where Bruinhelde and Liam faced off against Duke Kalas himself, all had gone quiet. The dragon stood between the forces, eyeing the Alpinadoran warriors and Vanguardsmen almost as hungrily as he regarded Duke Kalas and his Allhearts.
"There is no need of this," Pagonel continued to insist. "Prince Midalis has joined in battle with Aydrian even now. How many must die?"
"And of what intent are you, should Aydrian emerge from that conflict?"
Duke Kalas shouted at the opposing leaders, particularly at great Bruinhelde.
"My warriors have come as Prince Midalis' allies," the proud northman replied. "But if the battle is settled within, then our time here is ended."
"Tell them all to stop," Pagonel shouted to the leaders. "I beg of you to save as many brave men as you can this terrible day!"
Duke Kalas stared at him hard for a few moments, then turned to his leaders. "Tell them to stand down!"
"My lord!" came a protest, but Kalas cut the man short by turning away and holding up a hand.
"If you have deceived me, then know that none of Prince Midalis' followers will leave this field alive," he warned the mystic.
Pagonel more than matched that stare.
Right beside him, Agradeleous lowered his head and gave a low growl, smoke issuing forth from his nostrils.
She started down the staircase, but Pony knew that she could not get to Brynn in time. With Bradwarden out of the fighting, Elbryan was dominating the ranger of To-gai. Tempest slapped once, twice, thrice against Flame-dancer, pushing it out to the side, and when Brynn tried to bring it to bear, thinking the specter would take the opening and charge, Elbryan fooled her completely by stepping back instead.
As Flamedancer came across, Elbryan worked Tempest over, down, and then under and up, wrapping the blade and powerfully throwing it out to the side, right from Brynn's grasp.
The woman cried out and charged ahead, knowing that she had to get inside the specter's deadly blade. But Elbryan hardly hesitated, hitting her with a left hook that shattered her nose and sent her staggering to the side and to the floor.
"Elbryan!" Pony yelled, coming down more quickly.
The specter turned to regard her, and a light flared in its eyes as it came to recognize the woman. Abandoning the fallen Brynn, Elbryan stalked ahead for Pony, brandishing Tempest.
Pony knew that she couldn't possibly match this man, Nightbird, blade against blade. Even in life, those years ago, she was not his equal, but now... She went at him in a different manner, falling into her soul stone and sending her magical energy at his spirit with all her strength.
She closed her physical eyes, but watched the approach of his shadowy form, and she knew that she was slowing him, at least.
The woman plowed on, throwing all of her strength at the specter, denying his existence, damning him back to the netherworld. But on he came, and she knew that Aydrian had brought him forth too fully for any hope of dismissing him! She could not deny the strength of the creature, nor could she match it, physically or spiritually! On impulse, the desperate woman changed her tactics. Instead of fighting against Elbryan, she accepted him, with all of her heart. She searched that shadowy spirit, seeking a spark of light in the darkness.
She felt cold as he came over her, felt the hard stairs against her back, though she didn't even know that she had fallen.
Pony opened her eyes and looked up at the man, his face twisted in rage, Tempest's tip in close to her exposed throat.
"Elbryan," she said softly. "My love."
Tempest began to tremble; Pony sensed a struggle within the creature.
"Fight it," she implored him, and she fell deeper into the hematite and stepped from her body, as if to hug her lover spiritually. You must resist the call of Aydrian! she telepathically imparted. Elbryan, my love! Remember all that you were, all that we were. You know me.
Tempest began to edge away, and when Pony opened her physical eyes once more, she nearly swooned. For the specter's dark features lightened; its skin shed the gray hue and seemed to come alive! The light of life was coming back to him, undeniably so! Pony looked into Elbryan's eyes, those dazzling green eyes that had so enthralled her from the time she was old enough to appreciate the differences between men and women.
Elbryan pulled back his sword suddenly, instead extending his hand, and Pony took it gladly.
"We have to stop our son," she explained as Elbryan reached up and tenderly stroked her cheek.
"What have you done?" came a shout from below, and the pair turned to see Aydrian standing by the throne. Prince Midalis, battered and bloody, crawled on the floor behind him, seeming senseless.
"What have you done?" Pony shouted back.
Aydrian closed his eyes and reached out to Elbryan's hand through the lodestones set in his breastplate, and the ranger, still unsettled and confused, had Tempest torn from his grasp, the sword flying across the way, where Aydrian neatly caught it. "You see?" he boasted. "Nothing is beyond me!" He leveled the deadly sword their way.
Pony desperately reached for her pouch, for her sunstone, but realized that she had left it above, with De'Unnero.
"Now you die!" Aydrian promised, and he sent his great strength into the graphite.
But a naming sword flashed before him, smacking against his blade, turning it aside, and the tremendous lightning bolt split the marble of the floor and ricocheted about the room.
"The second shadow in the mirror!" Elbryan cried to Pony. "He is as Markwart once was!" He grabbed her hand, then, clutching the hematite with her, and together they went through the gemstone portal, throwing themselves at Aydrian in the realm of the spirit even as Brynn battled him physically.
But the duality that was Aydrian was more than up to the challenge, his sword parrying and countering Brynn's attacks even as the darkness within him fended the spiritual assault of both his parents. Pony went at him physically, then, as well, and the three blades rang so quickly and loudly that it seemed like one long toll of a bell.
Pony tried to stay with Elbryan as well, in that darker realm, but there was no break in the darkness that surrounded Aydrian, no opening for them to reach out to their lost son. Indeed, it was as Elbryan had said, so much like their battle with Markwart, but this time, the darkness seemed even more complete.
They made no headway, with sword or with spirit, and gradually, it was the trio who began to tire, and not Aydrian. Tempest rang out with fury - Aydrian even managed a lightning blast that sent Brynn flying backward and to the floor, though she recovered quickly and rushed back in before the young king could gain an edge on Pony.
Brynn pressed on with Flamedancer, Pony wielded Defender magnificently, and Elbryan, so familiar with that other shadow in the mirror, attacked the young king with all his spiritual sensibilities.
But they were battling a fortress that had no weaknesses, a foe who remained ahead of them every step of the way. A foe who did not tire.
They could not win.
Up on the balcony, the battered Sadye, sobbing and limping badly, slid past De'Unnero and Juraviel, struggling for the stairs. She looked down on the titanic battle and cried out to Aydrian.
"Win, my love!" she called. "Kill them all! Aydrian! Oh, my love!"
Behind her, Marcalo De'Unnero heard her words. Aydrian. Her love.
The monk's eyes snapped open.
Defender and Flamedancer came in side by side, angled so that Aydrian couldn't possibly parry both.
But he did, with a sudden snap and twist of Tempest, and he even managed a slight thrust that backed Pony a step. The young king spun out of the clench and went at Brynn, driving her sword up and to the side.
She turned a complete circuit in response, bringing Flamedancer back around, but Tempest was already there, ringing so hard against her blade that her arm went numb.
Pony came back in hard, just in time to save her, but again Aydrian had little trouble in pushing Defender aside and countering the woman's strikes.
And behind Pony, Elbryan's continuing efforts did little against the wall of darkness that encompassed Aydrian.
Then they all heard Sadye's call, and all but Elbryan glanced back at the stairs to see the battered woman stumbling down, to see a form rush up behind her.
To see Sadye stiffen and arch her back as a sword plunged through her body.
Sadye looked down, confused, her eyes wide with shock. And then she fell, faceflrst, tumbling down the stairs, the sword, Pony's discarded sword, still stuck through her.
Standing behind her, his life finally fleeing his corporeal coil, Marcalo De'Unnero tumbled after.
Despite himself, Aydrian could not suppress a cry. And in that moment of pain and shock, in that moment of very human loss, there shone a bright seam in the dark shroud that engulfed his spirit.
Elbryan rushed for the light; Pony felt her lover's spiritual tug and joined him, embracing the light, embracing their son. They called to him and pleaded with him. They offered him the love that only parents might know for their child.
They heard the sneer from within the monster, heard the denial all too clearly.
But they felt, too, the warmth that was within Aydrian, buried so far away by this demonic creature that had somehow found its way into his very being.
And so they grabbed at the light that was not the demon, the light that was the humanity of Aydrian.
Outside that spiritual realm, Brynn saw the young king freeze suddenly, his eyes wide in confusion.
She didn't hesitate, charging right up to him and plunging Flamedancer deep into his chest.
