It was a dark day at Furlong keep as Tora looked over maps of the island, trying to decide if it was best to fight from within the walls or in the open field. Both seemed like terrible ideas, and worst of all they had just received news from Fortress Dana.
“What do you mean ‘We cannot expect them to lend aid?’ Is that not their very purpose for existing?! What we have been paying our yearly tithes to expect!? For heaven’s sake there are darklings in their midst! Tell that crawly little spineless whelp of a fortress commander that I expect him and his forces to depart immediately or my dying command shall be a bounty on his head, dead or alive as a traitor!”
“Uhm… are you-”
“AT ONCE!” she snapped at the servant, who recoiled under her ire.
“Yes my lady, at once. Who shall we send?”
“My name is Tora. I am not your Lady yet. Should the gods see fit to let us survive this disaster then perhaps… Send Ilaril… With instructions not to return lest it is with a sizable force. If it cannot be managed, she is to go to Bartelion and stay there… carry on the line.”
“But Tora… She’s 13!” Shiva protested. Shiva was Tora’s sister and the keep’s smith. They were the same age, but Tora had always been destined for the high chair. Groomed for years to lead. And so she would. It didn’t help that Shiva was now missing much of a leg and had her wing in a splint. Tora had carried her much of the way home, an effort that had damn near killed them both.
“And unwounded!... Unlike you, Harkur, and Toliar. Jackalope and River are far too young to go. If our line is to carry on she shall have to show that we are worthy of it… Make sure to impress upon her the seriousness of her mission. Give her what supplies can be spared and what equipment she wants, but she must travel light, do you understand?”
“Yes my Lady, I shall inform her at once,” the servant went, bowing and moving to leave.
“Yes… and send a copy of the message to Fortress Dana to Baretelion at once as well.”
The servant stopped, looking back at her with a hesitant expression. She was about to demand his reply when he spoke up meekly.
“We don’t have any Bartelion birds left, we have sent them all.”
“No, not by bird, use the rings you halfwit!” Tora snapped again, feeling the end of her rope approaching.
“We sold the rings my lady...”
“Oh for crying out loud…” Tora broke out, head sinking as she felt Shiva’s hand on her shoulder. “Empty threats, is that what it has come to then? A Furlong unable to stand by their words… Disgraceful.”
They had been peering over maps for hours trying to deduce just what was to be done. They were coming, her scouts had done well. Rashan had made camp but an hour's flight west on the island and showed no sign of knowing he had been discovered. “Be off with you, send the threat. If anything, maybe we will get someone to arrest me for my insolence who can hold a blade. In fact, add that if they intend on arresting me they best bring an army.”
“Yes of course my- Tora,” the servant replied, finally running off to see her will carried out.
“What of Naxima? How far out is she?” Shiva questioned, simply and coldly.
“We don’t know… We do not even know if she accepted the contract. And we cannot afford to extend the offer to anyone else. No one believes we have the funds, so payment was needed in advance.”
“What if she simply took the money? We do not know her well.”
“Then we may curse her from the depths of hell or the reaches of heaven… Wherever we may go.” Tora replied darkly. There was not much real hope to be had. Certainly not after the loss of Tarin and Kalbida.
Tora cast her mind back to that dark day. They had done battle with Rashan and his band many times during the summer, both in defence of fellow keeps and during the attempted siege of Lochen keep. A siege which proved to be their undoing.
Either it had been a trap or the gods had been against them that day. They believed Rashan had been driven off following injuries sustained at the battle of Yandar keep. A valiant defense that nevertheless ended with the keep but a smoldering ruin and what remained of the Yandars’ fighting strength flying alongside the Furlongs’ and the Travdas’ to Lochen for revenge.
They had laid siege, not willing to destroy another keep with the Yandar family now homeless. They would take it by force instead. They had the red dragon Tarin on their side, who had served alongside them for many years at Furlong keep. And despite the dragon suffering wounds in the previous battles, they were certain of victory.
Camp had been made, and work commenced to whittle away at the defenses. Rocks were dropped on roofs, and doors were rammed through. It was slow work, but progress was steady. They would slaughter the traitors in their homes and take it for themselves so the Yandars could be repaid for what they had lost.
But it was not to be. Rashan had returned during the dead of night on the third day. And in the darkness they had struck. Darklings and Lochen keep dwellers alike descended upon the siege camp, the sentries barely managing a warning of the impending disaster.
In the chaos that followed Kalbida had fallen to some sneaky slimy traitorous bastard. THE Kalbida Furlong, slain by a knife in the night. The armor which might have saved her was locked away in a collection somewhere in the capital to help fund the fighting after the long years of struggle. It was a disgrace.
A disgrace that left Tora in command. A position she had long envied and prayed to receive, but not like this. Not in the hour of disaster and shame. She had given the only order she could. Fall back to the keep. Fall back and regroup… but not everyone. They could not outfly a dragon in the night. Rashan must not follow them to their halls.
Tora did not know if her mother would have despised her or lauded her for what she asked next. But Tarin was to be commended. The dragon stood his ground and in his fury, wounded the traitor Rashan once more, this time grounding the traitor and setting Lochen keep ablaze, even if he paid the ultimate price.
The inferno drew away the distraught dragonettes watching their home burn to the ground, and the darklings swarmed to protect their master. No chase was given as those left worthy of the white slipped away into the night, making for what keeps still stood. Soon they had all consolidated in Furlong keep. It was smaller and easier to defend, and most importantly built tougher than most. So here they stood. Those who remained, aiming to fight against the night, a battle they were bound to lose.
They did not know how long they would have. Rashan would come for them, but the coward would not seek battle until he was healed and possibly reinforced even further. They were hoping for a month and they had nearly gotten it. The brazen arrogance of the traitor, that he did not believe aid would come to the Furlongs.
And what infuriated Tora most of all was that he had been proven right… no one had come. Nothing. They had sent for more mercenaries and most importantly a dragon able and willing to fight. They should have been here by now.
The price had been steep but it was the last hope they could muster and the last coin in their coffers. They would not flee their home. The Saga of the Furlongs would not end with cowardice. They would do as their mother had taught them. They would fight to the last, and they would die well. And if necessary, alone.
“Open the armory, we have preparations to make.”
__________________________________________________________________________________
“A well fought battle, Lady Bizmati. Was this your first?”
“No Major, I have served on many occasions. But it was the first fight under banners for my son Fanto,” Nunuk replied to the major, glancing towards her son who was busy recounting the events of the battle, though it could hardly be called a battle.
“I see, I did not see him fight, did he acquit himself well?”
“Better than the opposition. What a farce this was.”
“Yes, quite,” the major replied, glancing about the surrendered garrison. Nunuk was not privy to how it had been uncovered that something was rotten at Fortress Dana, but they had nevertheless set out expecting a full-fledged siege against a royal guard fortress, a daunting challenge for any force.
But upon their arrival, they were not met with much opposition at all, only confusion and hastily opened gates. It had taken some time to discover what had transpired. Orders changed or ignored, falsified information relayed, and reports hidden. Only one person had the authority to orchestrate such a thing, and he could not have been alone.
They had found the fortress commander barricaded inside his offices. A quick council was held to determin what to do about him, ideally the traitor should be taken alive, for questioning. And so they elected to smoke them out.
The last charge of the commander and his entourage had been the only true excitement of the day. Nunuk had fought alongside Fanto and Kokashi in the corridors. They had managed to capture a lieutenant who had sought to flee the scene, and only with a mild dismemberment. He would be fit for questioning even without an arm.
“I have been led to believe that you brought a mage, is this true?”
“Yes, my husband Apuma, not much of a fighter but capable nonetheless. He is the lore keeper of our keep.”
“Ahr, very good. Fetch him, would you? Who knows what magical secrets might be hidden in that office. We shall have to comb through it. Let me know if you find anything of interest.”
“Of course, major, right away. If there are any traps or hidden compartments we shall find them.”
With a brisk nod she excused herself to go fetch her kin. She knew that bringing the old coot along was a clever idea. Even with the lack of battle to gain favor, there were often other ways to make oneself stand out when banners were called. She just hoped the major would be generous enough to make mention of her, and more importantly, the name Bizmati.
“Listen up you three, work to do. Apuma, we will need your spellbook. We are going through the office.”
“Oh right, of course sweetheart. Anything specific?”
“Not in the field, Apuma,” she replied, trying not to chuckle. “Anything a traitor could think of. Traps, hidden compartments, messages and the like. Do your best.”
“Of course, anything for you sweety… Oh I mean Nunuk… Lady Bizmati?” the old man tried, clearly probing the waters of whatever she approved of.
At that she could no longer help but let out the chuckle and shake her head. “Just move your claws, come on now.” And so she led the way through the fortress courtyard towards the administration wing. As they walked she called over her shoulder. “So Fanto, what do you think?”
“Honestly?... Bit disappointed, I mean all we did was tie up a fleeing coward,” the young man replied with a shrug. He had been hoping for more, she knew that.
“Yes, I suppose so. Then again one should hardly wish for blood. All in all I think this has gone as well as it could thus far. We did our job, and possibly we even acquitted ourselves well enough to to be credited for our part. And not a scratch to be seen on any of us.”
“Yes mum. Sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. I know what you were wishing for. Plenty of dark skies around, you shall have it one day.”
“Could we make it after I have retired?” Kokashi questioned with mirth in his voice.
“Looking at our mothers I shall end up retiring after you, old man,” Fanto said with a snicker, giving the slightly older guard a soft punch to the pauldron.
“Old man, pah. I am the old man here, 65. Whatever I am doing out here is a mystery,” Apuma added heartily.
“Oh please, I am 78 you know, and I do not plan on putting down this blade till I make 100,” Nunuk added, shaking her head. ‘65 old? Let me be free of such nonsense.’
“Oh I don’t know mum, my back is starting to feel a little stiff you know? Maybe I’ll call it at 30.”
“If so it will be under a different name than Bizmati,” Nunuk replied, feigning seriousness as she led them up the stairs. “But until then, you shall continue to do me proud.”
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“What is the plan then, Tora? He shall take a run on the keep if he is given one,” Chenglu questioned as the two of kept an eye on what equipment they had and who received what.
“Exactly. Lances, up high. Hide in the clouds and dive upon the red flare. With the master dead darklings become a far less dangerous threat,” Tora replied, the freshly appointed captain of the guard nodding his assent.
“All or nothing aye? I suppose there isn’t much else to do.”
“Even if the keep is lost the battle is not yet over.”
“What if he does not appear today? He may be waiting for weather or scouts?”
“Or nightfall… We cannot let him know we are above him. Give Tanaruk a flare and send him out to the northern treeline, once he sees Rashan approaching he shall signal and we make for the clouds. Anyone who can hold a lance must be on the roof from now on ready to fly. Have some hot soup brought up, it may be our last meal.”
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“Yes ma’am. I shall see to it, but won’t the flare give away that we know he is coming?”
“It will. But we have no alternative. See that it is done, hopefully he shall believe we intend to fight from within the walls.”
“Right away, I shall see you up top.”
“Indeed, I shall be but a moment,” she replied, glancing about the armory, wondering if there could be anything she might have missed. Some edge they could use. Her eyes landed on the small wooden crate, straw sticking out the sides of the lid reminding her of the contents, grabbing a satchel from the wall she opened the lid.
“Live with honor… die with glory.”
Tora and all who could still fly worth a damn had made it to the roof once their kit had been sorted. The servants had brought up the soup for them. It was not a filling meal, it felt wrong that this may be the last thing that was eaten before a final battle. But it was warm and they would need that part to stave off the night.
She had made it very clear that alcohol would not be allowed tonight. They could drink if they survived, but various snacks and dried meats were brought up from the stores. They would not need it for winter after all.
They had watched from the rooftops for hours and hours, and darkness was starting to fall. ‘Come on you bastard, show yourself, do you need the night behind you as well? Damn darklings, this better make it into the history books,’ she cursed to herself as she kept staring into the darkening night sky. The cloud cover was thick yet dry. Ideal for concealing high-flyers.
She knew full well their chances were much lower at night against darklings. But it would seem Rashan wasn’t overconfident enough to give them that advantage. Hopefully his thralls would find navigating the darkness difficult. One could only hope it would force them below the clouds to stay in formation and on course. ‘If they don’t the plan will not work. They may even slip past Tanaruk.’
__________________________________________________________________________________
“So what is this Furlong place?” Fanto questioned as they jogged to the northern hangar. They would investigate these strange reports.
“I don’t know, but we best check up on all this. It sounds like a feud which has escalated to baseless accusations, but they are very serious accusations nonetheless,” Nunuk answered as she glanced around, trying to discern just who were being sent and how many.
“I wouldn’t be so sure, if my memory serves these Furlongs have fought well in many battles for the crown. They are, however, well known for being troublesome, you see. But I do not ever think I have heard of them using subterfuge or acting cowardly. In fact, I remember this one tale of a young huntress of theirs who once challenged a black dragon to single combat for insulting her fashion sense… she didn’t win, of course, but still.”
“I see. Well, I suppose we shall soon learn if these darklings are imaginary or not,” Fanto added, sounding just a touch excited.
“That we shall Fanto. That we shall. I believe we intend on flying through the night. We may then spend the morn either listening to their apologies or being celebrated for coming to their aid. Either way should be a fine day.”
“Quite the plan you got there mum. Sounds good.”
__________________________________________________________________________________
As the night wore on the sounds of snores had started to echo from the cold windy rooftop. The fires were tended for warmth, but the post could not be abandoned, not on Tora’s watch.
But as the hours wore on she too had succumbed to sleep. It was no kind sleep. Tormented with visions, of battles fought, and battles to come. Rashan the red prominent throughout. There could be no mistake. The dragon was coming. And by the gods they would give him a fine welcome.
Tora could almost feel a smile forming on her face as she thought of the look of horror on that wyrm's face. If this was the end, she would be taking that overgrown waste of scales with her. And she had just the tool for the job, her mother’s lance and her satchel.
Her reverie was broken by shouts and a pair of hands shaking her awake, coming to in confusion she glanced around as Captain Chenglu shouted at her. “He is here! Quickly, quickly!”
She scrambled to her feet peering into the darkness. To the north a bright red light was glowing in the night sky, and in front of it a black silhouette was getting nearer.
“He has made it past the treeline, there is still time. Douse the fires!” Chenglu commanded as Tora got to her senses. The dragonettes on the roof were already jumping off the sides into the air and beating skywards. Tora grabbed her lance and scrambled for the edge, checking her satchel one last time before she leaped into the fray. ‘All still there. Very good.’ Glancing to Chenglu, he too had three flares strapped across his chest. If darklings could go blind, they would find out tonight.
They had all headed for the clouds as quickly as they could, and with mighty beats of effort Tora pushed herself into the lead of the formation. She was an excellent flier. As a gilded huntress and first in line to the Lady, nothing less was acceptable. Once at the head she bellowed back. “Form on leader,” the order echoed back through the climbing rabble. They did not have time for their original plan. There would be no proper formations or waves of attack.
Looking down at her army, the far off red flare made it all but glow in the night even this far away. ‘Why did we not have some dim ones?’ she cursed, knowing full well it was a blessing that they even had flares that worked. A gratuitous luxury in these times. In the end, it would not matter. They all knew their mission; kill the dragon, then retreat to the keep for now. It must be done, element of surprise or not.
As they climbed she anxiously watched the dragon as it carried on towards the keep, flying straight towards the hilltop. He was perfectly open. ‘You think you will get your one run at us. I say different,’ Tora cursed to herself, heart pounding as she leveled out the formation, pushing on forwards into a perfect position for a diving attack. They had no more time for altitude, they would not reach the clouds. It would not matter.
Letting silence reign for but a moment, she drew her breath and shrieked as she rolled over onto her back, lance couched as she pulled up into her dive, the others following the sounds and acting in kind. She knew the maneuver by feel, she let herself plummet, wings tucked as she gained speed, streaking silently through the night. A dozen fliers behind her coming down as a cloud rather than a line and one target in front of her. ‘Come on you stupid girl. Hit. Hit the bastard!’ Rashan flew onwards, either unbothered or unaware of the dragonettes hurtling towards him.
Something was off, he was no idiot. He knew they saw him coming, he had to know they would not let him reach the keep. Perhaps he thought them a beaten force? They had fled their last battle without any true opposition.
Behind her flares were fired to either flank, lighting up the dark silhouette bright as day, the massive beast of 40 tonnes at least, did nothing. Then without a sound the dragon simply vanished, as if nothing had ever been there. Only the ground beyond. ‘Did he turn invisible?!’ Then Tora’s heart sank at the sound of the massive, familiar roar. Behind them.
__________________________________________________________________________________
The final number setting out from fortress Dana had come to a mere 3 dragons, two young greens and a middling red at the lead. Less than Nunuk would have liked to see considering the reports from the island, but still a force which should see off a darkling raiding force with little trouble. They were traveling with one of the greens, a charming young lad by the name of Quera.
He was a keep-dweller himself from further in near the city, so they had plenty to talk about to while away the hours. Nunuk had taken a few stints flying by herself of course, it would not do to have Apuma give up the comfortable spot after all. He would need to stay on his wings in case battle was joined after all so the dragon may do his job.
As morning broke, the light shining from the horizon behind them lit up the majestic flying island ahead of them. It was far above them too however, its craggy grey underside clearly visible in the morning sun, dew making it glint and shine back at them.
There was some cursing as all realized the long climb needed to match heights. But the ocean below was an excellent motivator, and it was an awe-inspiring sight. Two hours of steady advance and climb later, the winds carried them over the edge of the island as if to welcome them to the green paradise contrasting against the receding blue hell behind them. Landmarks were found and maps were studied as they turned for the nearest keep on the island, which just so happened to be this troublesome Furlong place. It would be interesting to hear what they had to say for themselves to be sure.
As hills and trees slid away beneath them, Nunuk took the time to appreciate the landscape. It wasn’t every day you got to see a new island, and it was always said that every last one was truly unique. This far north, there were even a few needle trees to be seen here and there, something they would never find at home.
“Smoke ahead!” Quera called out. Looking ahead the dragon was indeed right. They must have found their target. A very successful journey all things considered. “There is an awful lot of it isn’t there?”
Attention sharpened, looking at the rising column of smoke in the distance. On closer inspection, it seemed to be much further away than might first have been guessed. Which would make it a truly calamitous amount of smoke.
“The Furlongs aren’t miners or something like that, right Apuma!?” Fanto shouted, flying in close to the green dragon.
“No no, warriors and hunters, I am certain of it!”
“Quera, what speed you can manage,” Nunuk decreed, putting on her helmet. She had no command over the dragon, but it had been very clear she knew more about the matter of war than he did. And he obeyed well enough. His surely already tired wings redoubled their efforts towards the pillar of smoke. Any keep-dweller knew what those often meant.
__________________________________________________________________________________
“The fire is burning down through the stories. We do not have long here,” Shiva noted with resignation.
It was over. She was only walking with the help of a crutch. Tora and nearly all those still able had been lost to the deception. Rashan had gotten his reinforcements. Or perhaps they had been here all along. A witch. Maybe even more than one. It was the only explanation for the illusion spell.
It also meant that their friends, her very own sister, would likely soon be coming back to fight them. And darklings remembered their past. Tora knew their tactics, she knew the corridors. All the hiding holes and secret traps. It was over.
“We cannot leave either, we would be cut down as deer at a hunt!” Naran broke out, evidently holding back tears as he clutched their young boy in his arms. Jacky was clinging to Shiva’s remaining leg in terror.
“Then what do you prefer, young man? Wait till the flames reach the basement, or follow my mother’s teachings one last time?”
“The flames… they cannot bring back a pile of ash. I will wait for the flames,” he responded after but a moment’s thought, clutching their boy even tighter. Shiva could feel Jacky tighten her grip as well, though she didn’t make a sound.
“Very well, then we wait. I doubt Rashan will let us all be lost to the flames anyway,” she sighed, looking to the door leading to the outside. They had a pair of such doors, one right after the other. thick oak with metal bracings. They would hold for some time should someone attempt to get inside. And they still had the vats of oil above ready to pour onto anyone attempting the door. Of course, Tora knew that.
“No! I will not sit here and wait for them to come for us.”
“Naran…” Shiva wanted to object, but what was there to object to? If he wanted to die on his own terms, she couldn’t blame him. “Right. I will stay at the door. If I am lucky they will be dumb enough to try it. Darklings don’t come back from the dead.”
“No don-”
“You go. I am not moving.”
It was evident he wanted to object, to plead with her to not be stupid, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned to the rest of those huddling away from the smoke. “If we stay the smoke will take us, the fire may never reach us. We only have one chance to not be turned! To make it to the gates… please. We have to go up.”
Shiva turned to look at everyone here. Servants, mothers, fathers, children. All either too wounded, too young, or too old to fight. He was right. She was the last living Furlong now able to hold a blade, and the others could not fight, there was no point in staying.
“He is right! Outside you will get the blade, here you will choke to death. Run into the flames. Keep a knife with you to cut it short. You will suffer less.”
There were tears in her eyes as she laid it bare for them all. No one moved, some stared at her or Naran, others huddled closer to each other. She couldn’t bear to look at them. The people she was responsible for, and what she had to ask of them. They wouldn’t go by themselves though.
“I order you! I-I I order you to do it. Go into the fire. It is the only chance left!” she shouted at them as the tears won out. Naran looking back at her, clutching Toril, their boy, their sweet baby boy. “I ORDER YOU TO GO. NOW! I will cut down any who delay. There is nothing for you here!”
On her crutch she hobbled over to the battle axe she had once swung with grace, picking it up and letting the crutch fall away as dragonettes started to get up, fear and horror in their eyes. “In the name of the great god Tula. I swear it.”
Jacky pushed her head into her leg as she to started to sob. “I won’t leave you, I won’t leave you! I won’t! I won’t! I won’t!”
People started to get up, the sound of crying and sobbing filling the room as one by one they made for the stairs. Naran crouched down in front of Jacky as Shiva stood firm. What else could she do? The tears were rolling down her face as she stared down friends and even family as they glanced back at her, filing out. Some gave her a nod of recognition, a final goodbye, others refused to even look at her.
“Heeey. Jacky. Come now, Mum has to do this. And we have to do something else. Okay?”
“I WON’T LEAVE HER!” Jacky screamed out the top of her lungs, refusing to let go, claws digging into her mother's leg. “I WILL NEVER LEAVE HER!”
“Listen now,” Naran went, Shiva’s husband, the man she had loved for over 30 years.
“I WON’T! WHY WON’T YOU GET IT!”
“Jacky list-”
“It is okay,” Shiva forced out through gritted teeth. “She can stay.”
“Are yo-”
“She can stay,” Shiva repeated, looking down at her crouching husband. “Go. We will be fine.”
He rose back up to his feet before giving her a nuzzle, his one free hand wrapping around the back of her head to hold her close one last time. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
__________________________________________________________________________________
“Interceptors coming up! Darklings, lancers with them!” Nunuk called out from her perch at the dragon's neck, peering down at the developing battle. “He is running!”
They were bringing their whole formation down on the back of the red dragon. They had caught him sitting pretty outside the keep, likely waiting for his minions to do his job for him. A red dragon next to a burning keep with darklings flying around could mean only one thing. And as they dived it became blindingly obvious just how real the Furlongs’ pleas had been.
The red was a venerable beast, and who knew what tricks he may possess, allied with the dark as he was. They would take no chances with him.
“Slow down, Quera! We shall clear the way. Do not show quarter!” Nunuk shouted out, her final words of advice as she disembarked to join the diving dragonettes heading for the deck. They had the element of surprise, the darklings taking off from the field in front of the keep rising to meet them.
Glancing behind her, she saw Fanto and Kokashi forming a V behind her. She smiled back at them. She knew Fanto had dreamed of this. He loved all her stories from when she was younger. Finally, he would have his own. She just hoped it was not too late for the Furlongs and whoever else had sought refuge in the blazing keep.
‘Here we go then.’ She drew her blade and calmed her mind. Few expected a talon blade as it phased through their parry, especially in a split-second flyby. And her armor would see her through this day, like it had done so many times before.
A moment of stillness, of howling wind, then the pass. They picked their targets, she spied the glint of a golden crown and maneuvered to take them on. That one might be dangerous, best she handle them.
She juked to the side of the darkling, it was a beast of a woman who came by in a flash carrying a lance, a poor choice of weapon for fighting a dragonette. She was easily a head taller than Nunuk, if not two. But her bulk made her slow and her weapon even more so.
Nunuk dragged her blade along the darkling’s flank, drawing blood and eliciting a scream from the monster as it tried to pull away from the lady. Nunuk smiled, looking back ahead to check for more targets. Then there was an explosion, she snapped her head around to look behind her, seeing only Kokashi, staring in horror at the puff of smoke and crackle of lightning where Fanto had been but a moment before. “FANTO!”
__________________________________________________________________________________
Shiva sat on the bench she had dragged over in front of the door, head in her hands crying. Jacky trying her best to console her, blessed be her heart. The screams from above, the horror, then the silence. And now the smoke was growing thicker. Soon it would be too much to bear. She would have to use the fire bomb she had left. Jacky didn’t need to know. She had faced enough horror for a lifetime tonight.
Her ear twitched, was it a trick? Or had someone landed outside the doors? She snapped her head around to look at the sturdy oak and steel. Tears receding, grip on her axe tightening.
“What is it mum?” Jacky questioned, looking up, scared to the bone. Shiva listened intently, both ears front. There was someone out there.
“We are not alone.” With a grunt of effort she rose to her feet, rolling her shoulders one last time as she leaned on the axe, glancing to the rope which would see the intruder bathed in burning oil. All she need to do was cut it. She had to wait. She needed to get as many as possible.
Then a series of knocks. Shiva stiffened, staring at the door. Then a shout muted and muffled by the stone and wood.
“Anyone in there! I am Lady Bizmati, open at once!”
“NEVER! WE KNOW YOUR TRICKS!” Shiva roared back in defiance, Jacky hiding behind her.
“There are no tricks! Are there any more of those bastards in there! I wanna kill them myself!”
“All you will find here is Furlong steel!” Shiva retorted, not backing down, instead moving closer to the rope and readying her axe.
“THEY KILLED MY SON! I WANT EVERY LAST ONE LEFT, AND I WANT THEM NOW!” came the screaming reply. She sounded manic. A mother in grief. A sound Shiva knew all too well. She didn’t want to believe. She couldn’t believe. That would mean that. That they didn’t. The screams, the flames. Her baby boy. She had told them. Ordered them to do it. It could not be. “OPEN THIS DOOR AT ONCE OR I SHALL GAS YOU ALL OUT!”
Shiva hobbled over to the lever, and with a pull the stones swung free and the heavy doors parted open. She prayed it was a trick. That she would see a witch, or some other foul creature. As light peered into the smoky room she stood and watched in horror.
“About time where are-” Out of the smoke came a small-ish woman. Wearing fine shining armor. Covered in blood, and bits of black. Fire and fury in her eyes. And Shiva dropped the axe.
“No…”