They retired to their tents for some rest. All accept some of the Elves that had stayed up for most of the night.
They did not get to the land of Kealhal until the fourth day. The sky was clear but the land was shady. They all knew that it was the shadow of Salith, for only it was strong enough to dull the beautiful rays of the sun itself, which had just begun to set in front of them. What little light had broken through was fading fast. It was then that they had got their first view of the Macshelc Mountains, but because of the sun, it looked more like a shadow itself.
Delsani took a long look at the land before them and remembered the last time he was there. There were fond memories of that once beautiful land, which then was rich with all sorts of life. The grass and wild trees and rare plants were the finest and brightest of any land that he had ever seen, but no more, for now there was nothing but darkness. And all of the things that Delsani had seen were now dry, shrivelled, and dead. He could swear that the stench of death was all around them in that dead place. They rode on for a little longer and then set up camp behind Veuguil forest at least two miles away from any enemy patrol.
“We should get whatever we need for the assault on the fortress ready.” said John.
“We’ll have to make our plan of attack,” said Delsani.
He turned to the young Wizard that was standing next to John.
“Euol, please inform the leaders of the other races that we will be holding a meeting.” Suddenly he stopped. “Where will we hold the meeting, John?” he asked.
“Begging your pardon, sir, but what about the tent the men are setting up?” said Euol.
“Tent,” said Delsani, surprised. He turned round and there it was a large white tent almost ready to be raised.
“Those fools! What in the name of hell do they think they’re doing?” said the old Wizard angrily. They ran over to the area of the not quite finished tent.
“Where is Prince Bacnil?” asked Delsani of one of the men holding a rope, as they started to raise the tent.
“The Prince left orders that he was not to be disturbed,” said the man fearfully. “Is there anything I can do for you?”
“Yes,” said Delsani, ‘there’s something you can do. You can tell me where to find the Prince. Or I could always make you tell me. It’s your choice.”
The man hesitated, but then Delsani reached into his pocket and swiftly took out his wand.
“He’s round the back seeing to the work being done there,” said the man, his voice shaking. The Wizards could hear the pure fear as the poor man spoke.
John was surprised at his old friend; it was unlike the Wizard to threaten anyone in that way.
They went around the side of the tent. There were many men, but Delsani recognized Prince Bacnil. The seventeen-year-old boy was the third and youngest son of Leroih, the King of the men of the eastern plains, commonly known as the Morden.
The young prince stood watching the progress; he had a baby face, wavy long black hair, and was as thin as a rake. John actually thought he looked anorexic. And in the opinion of most of the Wizards, Elves, and Dwarves, he looked much too young and green to be leading anyone into battle. Yet the men seemed to have faith in him and his abilities, or perhaps they had no choice. After all he was their Prince.
“I’m not sure that putting up this tent is a good idea,” said Delsani to the young man, “as it may be seen.”
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“I think we’re a safe distance away from any danger,” said the Prince in his childlike voice.
“Is that so?” said the Wizard. Delsani then walked forward until he was at the edge of the forest. “Well. Then, I would ask you to draw your attention to the cleft yonder.” the Wizard was now pointing far across the extensive field before him. When Bacnil followed the Wizard’s steps and looked, he could see a dark cliff standing tall and proud.
“Well, can you see it?” asked Delsani.
“Yes, I can see it,” replied Bacnil.
“And would you say that if the tent was up and you were standing on that cliff, you might be able to see the very top of it?”
For a few seconds the Prince stood there staring at the cliff. He turned and looked at the tent, which was almost fully up. “Take the tent down,” he said to the closest man to him.
It was at this time John noticed that the clear sky had gone and a black cloud was hovering overhead. His eyes turned green again, and he walked until he was clear of the trees and then looked toward the fortress. He zoomed in on it and could see that one of the doors high up on the left tower was open, but only because he could see a very dim light coming from inside. He zoomed in further on the door and could see a balcony, and on it he could see two dark figures standing there. He could see that they, too, had Dragon eyes. He could also see the colour of their eyes, which shone like four beacons in the darkness of that forsaken land. The eyes of the figure to John’s right were purple, and the other set of eyes of the figure to his left were yellow. John knew that the purple eyes belonged to Ulicoth, and that the yellow eyes belonged to Kilamen, for this he had read in the scrolls of Thoucil, which she had written after her first encounter with them.
John became aware of a very faint pounding noise. He thought that it sounded like marching, as though whatever it was coming his way. He also noticed that he could feel a slight tremble in the ground. He zoomed out, but he could see nothing in front of him.
Delsani then came over to him. “What’s wrong, Jastark?” he asked.
“They know we’re here,” replied the King, “and there’s something else, I can hear what sounds like an army marching this way, but there’s nothing there.”
“This land has been claimed by Ulicoth and is completely covered by the shadow of Salith,” said Delsani. “Use the Light of Yeluilat.”
“What about it?” John asked.
“It will penetrate the shadow and show us what is hiding behind it.”
The marching drew ever closer. The tremble in the ground was now heavier, louder, and worse, nearer.
John took the sword from its sheath he held it out in front of him and shouted, “YELUILAT!” A blinding light burst from its blade. John was the only one that was not affected by its light. No one else could see a thing, for the light was so strong.
The King could see the marcher now. “BETWEENS (former Men turned by the Dark Lord Salith), LORES, AND GOBLINS!” he shouted. And they were very close to them and getting closer with every passing second.
The blade slowly dimmed, and the others got their first look at Ulicoth’s army. To them it looked as though his army was the same or perhaps a little smaller than their own, and that filled their hearts with hope.
Prince Bacnil threw on his helmet. “To arms,” he shouted as he jumped onto his horse. If not for the seriousness of the situation it would have looked and sounded ridiculous, a skinny, fresh-faced, inexperienced young man with the voice of a fourteen year old expecting an army to trust him with their very lives. Most, but not all of the men stayed with their prince. The rest of the army ran to John and Delsani.
“Archers, take your places and ready your bows,” shouted Delsani. The Morden archers formed two lines. The front line got down onto their right knee. Both lines of archers fixed their arrows to their bow strings, which they drew back ready to go at the first command. The Elven archers who stood only ten feet from the men did the same.
Suddenly, a long bright yellow light appeared. When it faded, they saw Kilamen standing not far ahead of Ulicoth’s army. They knew that it was her, as they could see her bright yellow Dragon eyes glaring at them.
“Go now, Jastark,” said Delsani. “We will fight this battle. You have your own battle to fight. Go now before they draw to near.”
“I should stay and help,” said John.
“No,” said Delsani, “Ulicoth has seen you, and now knows that there are other Wizard-Elves. He has most likely guessed that you have come to kill him. And in his weakened state, he is probably no match for you. That’s why he has sent Kilamen to find you before you can get close enough to harm him. Run into the forest and then Phaze up to the fortress and bring the Second Prophecy to light.”
John nodded. ‘Okay,” he said. “Be careful my friend.”
“And you watch your head. Be extra careful,” said Delsani. “Good luck, your majesty.”
John smiled when he heard his true title.
“Now go before it’s too late,” said Delsani. “We’ll try and keep Kilamen busy as long as we can.”