Where Darkness Treads: Book Two—Of Tears & Darkness

Chapter Nine: Close calls

Most of the men were now crouched behind rotting logs, trees, boulders, and anything else which could be used for cover. Thus far, everything was going well, yet Morgan was gravely concerned for the last of the men, who were now making their way to the top. It was going to be much too close.

"Light the fires!" Prince Everin commanded. Immediately, men gathered around three piles of dried tinder, grass and branches. Sparks began to fly, as men patiently worked at starting a fire at each of the piles.

Prince Everin knelt with two men, beside a fourth pile. He began using a flint and steel, creating a shower of sparks, just above a small pile of shavings. In the darkness, a spark landed upon the dry slivers of wood. Bending down, the Chand Prince gently blew upon the tiniest of coals, to coax it into life. His effort was rewarded by a small flickering flame, which he planted beneath a small pile of dry grass and tinder. With a few more gentle breaths, a small fire began to grow.

"Nicely done, Prince Everin," Morgan commented. She was careful, to not look towards the fire. For, if she did so, the light would spoil her ability to see anything in the shadows gathered around them. So far, there was no sign of danger below them.

"Thank you, I am relieved we have managed to get the fires going as fast as we did. The light from them will aid us immensely in the upcoming battle. Something tells me, this will be no trivial affair," Prince Everin whispered to her.

Gradually, the men assigned to the task, continued to add larger branches to the fires. The combined light from the growing fires was beginning to be noticeable. Morgan found herself mentally urging them to burn brighter still. They desperately needed more light.

In the ruddy red glow of the rapidly growing fires, Morgan sat waiting for the first wave of attackers to arrive. In the distance, she could hear the approaching enemy's cries. She knew it would not be long before the night's activities began.

Remembering the fight in the courtyard in Kandalare, the markswoman searched the shadows for an enemy she knew would approach silently. Not for the first time, did she find herself longing for the nighttime vision of Changa and the rest of the Centaurs. The princess found herself attempting to stare holes in the darkness gathered around them, to see anything at all.

From behind a tree, a shadow crept and slipped behind a boulder. Three shadows raced towards it and attacked as one. Morgan found her attention riveted upon the area, watching the drama play itself out. Within a nearby clearing, three Dreena battled what Morgan was sure, was one of the Meer. Roaring and shouting, they attacked again and again, pressuring their quarry. One high-pitched whine echoed through the air and suddenly the fight was over.

In the dim light, a vague shadow lay still, with what Morgan assumed was a dead Dreena in wolf-form. The other two Dreena checked on their fallen comrade, who slowly rose, although he appeared to be limping. In moments, they vanished into the darkness.

"The Dreena are giving a good account of themselves," Changa said as he changed position in the shadows. He had been quiet, and Morgan had forgotten he was present. His voice had given her a start and made her pulse race for a moment.

"I can only imagine how we would be faring right now, without their assistance. They are, once again, proving to be invaluable allies," Donovan said, from where he was crouched down beside her. He was holding his bow, with an arrow upon the string.

"Yes, they are," Morgan said in lowered voice.

Scattered throughout the forest on both sides, the silence was broken by frequent periods of savage growling, shouts, and screaming. Despite the efforts made by the Dreena, their adversaries were now steadily advancing towards them. The enemy crested the ridges on both sides, sweeping towards them with a rush. "One group of them, noted the last of the men who were desperately attempting to make their way to the top. They are not going to make it," Morgan sadly thought.

One stocky individual on horseback, was the first to present a shot, while closing in on the men working their way to the top of the hill. Morgan drew back her bow's string, pausing for but a moment, before she released the arrow. With a great cry, the Nyen toppled backwards off his horse.

"Remind me to never get you angry again," Donovan muttered.

Morgan responded with a grin, while reaching for another arrow.

Then the enemy opened fire on the last of the men who had nearly made it to the top. One man suddenly slumped in the saddle with a cry. Another took an arrow in the back, toppled off from his horse and fell to ground below, where he had started from. Three others never had a chance, for they were the last in line. The men and their mounts fell and landed heavily, convulsing on the ground below.

The sight of the dead men and their horses below, made Morgan grow hot inside with anger. "Nobody should have to die in this manner," she thought. "It was time to make them pay dearly for each life the enemy had taken."

"Everyone make each and every shot count. Kill all of them you possibly can. It is time to make them pay," Donovan shouted out loud.

Even as he said this, he was already drawing his bow string back. Morgan looked, but at first could not locate his intended target. Then she spotted a shadow partially hidden behind a tree, which moved just a tad bit. Just after she spotted it, Donovan's arrow struck its now exposed chest, causing it to spin to the ground.

Their first salvo of arrows and crossbow bolts took the enemy completely by surprise. Prince Everin's men were well-trained, and many of the enemy fell to their feathered shafts and bolts. By the combined might of all their archers, they were able to maintain a withering fire upon the enemy.

An enemy charge, aimed towards the rocky ledge, which led to the top, was decimated and stopped cold. Their foes tried to advance all around their position, only to be met with arrows and crossbow bolts. The combination of a height advantage and available cover was working heavily in their favor. Below them, the enemy was now shooting at them from behind cover themselves. Here and there, savage fighting still raged in the dark. It served to inform all on top of the hill, the Dreena were still hard at work, stalking the enemy attackers. 

Morgan spotted a shadow snaking its way through an area of brush. In the faint light, a figure slowly raised to a sitting position, to fire his crossbow. She began to draw back her bow, although she doubted, she could make the shot, due to an unfavorable angle. Changa responded, by shooting an arrow which slammed into their foe, just below the chin. The enemy archer dropped his weapon and fell clutching at his throat. The brush within which he fell, shook for a moment or two and then stood still.

"Showoff," Morgan said with a smile, glancing at Changa.

"It was nothing," The barrel-chested Centaur said, while smiling.

"Nothing, if you can see in the dark," Morgan countered back.

"Well, it does certainly have its advantages," Changa commented.

A minute later, both were picking targets out of another group trying to force their way to the top. Despite the best efforts of the Dreena, the enemy was continuing to close in on then.

A short distance away, Morgan saw a cluster of crossbowmen and arbalestors and overheard them wagering on the enemy. "Is it possible to get in on this wager?"

Her comment brought a round of laughter, from all who could hear the archer's comments and Morgan's question. 

Morgan heard Changa gasp in surprise and turned to see if he was alright. All she could see was movement in the shadows. It looked as if he was hit, for he had stepped backwards and was looking at something glistening on the palm of his hand.

Donovan, slowly rose to take another shot and released his bowstring. Morgan heard a cry, from somewhere about halfway up a tree, maybe thirty yards away, at the base of the nearest ridge. She watched a dark form fall, crashing into two or three limbs, before it slammed into the ground below.

"I was wondering where this arrow came from. Changa was hit, as I saw him flinch backward. The arrow stuck in a tree, right beside my head. It was then, when I spotted a shadow moving in a gap in the leaves and branches.

Morgan crouched down and crept towards Changa. She needed to make sure he was alright. He stood before her, sheltered behind a couple of large trees. He was attempting to place a crude dressing upon his left shoulder.

"Are you going to be alright?" Morgan asked. She took the clean dressing from his hands and inspected the wound in the light from the fires. It was not deep but was bleeding steadily. She applied pressure to the dressing and began to tie it in place.

"It just grazed me. I had just turned to see how well you and Donovan were faring, when it struck me. If I had not turned, it would have killed me," Changa whispered, while looking at her.

Morgan looked at him, thankful her friend had not been seriously hurt. It was clear, this was a critical point in Changa's life. One, which he would reflect on, from time to time. Tonight, death had ventured too close. Yet, by the grace of Elliana, he had been spared.

"You are truly blessed, my friend, and I am greatly relieved to find you alive and well. However, now is not the time to dwell on what might have been. This is the time to make the enemy pay dearly for the attempt," Morgan said in lowered voice. She then turned to go back to her chosen post.

"Of that, you can be sure. Thank you for being my friend and helping out, Morgan," Changa said earnestly.

"You are welcome," Morgan said in a lowered voice.

Another figure crept towards them and materialized into Donovan. He moved quickly towards them and his face loomed in the shadows. "How is he doing? Is he going to be alright?" Donovan asked, with a voice filled with concern.

"This Centaur is going to be fine. You killed the culprit, before he could attempt another shot. You saved my life," Changa said. He then gave Donovan a hearty handshake and warm smile.

Less than five minutes later and all three of them returned to the task of defending the hill. The incident with Changa, had brought back to the forefront her primary concern, which was the possibility of losing Donovan. She pushed the thought to the back of her mind, for, now was not the time to think of such things.

Morgan once more looked for another target. It was going to be a long night, Morgan thought, while drawing her bowstring back. Moments later, she smoothly released it and another shadow fell to the side with an arrow in his chest.