The Fallen Guardian (The Guardian Chronicles 2) (5 page)

The
black clouds that hung over the city of Tarisdell did not seem to show any
signs of breaking up. They had been there since the surprise attack by the black
dragon and its unidentified rider. The rain that had started after the hail of
fire had continued uninterrupted every day since then. Three days had passed,
and the battle for the capital city of the elves raged hotter than ever before.
The giants had arrived at a crucial point for the elven guard who had been
defending the northern wall. Commander Yves Silinadiel had organized his
archers into a formation that provided his foot soldiers with maximum
protection while still being able to inflict serious damage on the high elves.
Despite this brilliant strategy, they were outnumbered and were falling fast
before their attackers. The coming of the giants had turned the tide of the
bloody struggle at the northern outer wall and saved many lives.

While
Commander Yves held off the assailants in the north, King Ciel had called a
meeting of the high council and invited the two druids who lived with the elves
to attend the special session. Everyone who had showed up for the king’s
impromptu meeting fidgeted nervously while the storm overhead raged on with
such ferocity that it was almost possible to not hear the sounds of battle
taking place in the south and the north. The two druids stood stoically in the
open while the rain soaked them all the way through their cloaks. They seemed
to be lost in thought as they waited for the king’s guard to screen everyone
who was planning on entering the
Eáránë Minyatur.
The crowd outside the
main entrance could see the king approaching from the backside of the building
surrounded by his guard, who were acting as his shield against an attack.

After
a few minutes of standing in the deluge, everyone entered the hall and stood by
their seats waiting for the king to signal for them to sit down. One of the
druids, Verandos Tenowernal, flicked his hand at the cauldron in the middle of
the room, and a nice, warm fire burst into life. Immediately the room became
much more comfortable, and the atmosphere eased slightly at the welcomed
warmth. The king smiled slightly at his impatient druid friend and winked his
approval. Chairman Áerasrril then motioned for everyone to take their seats. He
then promptly took his seat, and the council turned their attention to the
king. They were waiting to hear from their leader and were becoming anxious once
again as the sounds of battle became clearer over the booming thunder and
pounding rain.

“We
are under attack by the treacherous villains who seceded from the body of our
great nation several months ago. They have laid siege to the northern outer
wall and have a force that numbers some forty-five thousand strong,” explained
the king dejectedly. He was not even standing as he said this because he had
not slept since the attack by the orcs at the southern gates.

“King
Ciel, are you all right?” asked Lady Bernadine Trylendorbri, the other druid
sitting next to Verandos.

“I
am just tired; that is all,” replied the king. “As I was saying, the force in
the north is large and well organized. They would have taken the wall already
if it were not for my friend, Chief Angus of the giants. They have surrounded
the high elves, as they like to be called now, and have drawn them back a short
distance from the northern gates.”  There was a collective sigh heard around
the table at this news.

“What
of the attack at the southern gates?  Who was that on the dragon, and what is
going on now down there?” asked one of the council members anxiously.

“Excellent
questions. We do not know who was riding the dragon, but it was clear that she
was trying to get our attention. She wanted our eyes turned toward the north
where the high elves were preparing to assault us. We obliged them and did not
notice the enormous army of orcs in the south. There are about three hundred to
three hundred and fifty thousand orcs either attacking or getting into position
at the southern end of Tarisdell,” explained the king with a hint of disgust.
“We need an army, and we need one now.”

“I
will lead them, King Ciel,” said Verandos in reply to this last statement. “I
will round up all those who can and are willing to fight.”

“Thank
you, my friend. Will you lead the army you gather to defend the southern
walls?” asked the king without much enthusiasm. He was looking worse with each
passing moment, like his health was declining right before their eyes.

“I
want Anlon Marowael to be my first commander,” said the new general. “Do you
accept?”  He turned toward the sturdy elf as he spoke to the proven warrior.

“Of
course, General Verandos,” replied Anlon with a salute to his new superior.
“What are your orders?”

“Gather
up a considerable force, and head to the north to help the beleaguered
Commander Yven’s archers,” ordered the general.

Without
another word being said, Commander Anlon did an about-face and left the council
chambers. “I would ask that Lady Bernadine come with me to the southern gates.”

“No
problem, Verandos,” replied the quiet druid. She viewed the general as an
equal, so she did not use his new title when she spoke to him.

“King
Ciel!” shouted as voice from the double door entryway. The person had thrown
the doors open and stood there covered in mud and blood trying to catch his
breath. Before he could say anything, five unbelievably tall creatures entered
the council room. They had to bend over quite a ways to enter the low-slung
entryway. The five giant leaders then stood tall and looked imperiously down at
the little elves sitting around a small fire burning in a cauldron. Lord
Marcello raised his staff into the air and sent a blue flame crashing into the
little fire. Violent flames erupted high into the air and burned a bright blue
color. Every bit of moisture in the room evaporated instantly.

“We
are here to assist you in your time of need,” said King Angus in a booming
voice that drowned the sounds of war and weather out completely.

“Welcome,
my old friend,” answered the elven king as he stood up from his throne and
bowed low to their larger than life guests. “What assistance can you offer us?”

“We
have noticed that you are under attack in the south by an innumerable army of
orcs. We can send three-fifths of our forces down there to help with the
defenses,” offered General Lang in a gruff voice.

“I
almost forgot to introduce ourselves,” began King Angus. “I am King Angus
Vokias, ruler of the combined tribes of the giants.”

“I
am Lord Marcello Zomiria,” said the massive magician in a deep rumbling voice.
“I am the commander of the king’s guard and our siege warriors.”

“I
am Commander Boaz Drelius, leader of the artillery forces,” said the gargantuan
warrior with a slight bow.

“I
am Commander Gerodi Ramunus, leader of our warriors,” said the giant plainly.

“And
I am General Lang Emasar, leader of King Angus’s armies,” said the general
imperiously as he folded his massive arms over his overly large chest.

“We
are overjoyed to have you with us,” replied King Ciel with a little more color
in his cheeks. The appearance of the giants seemed to give him back a measure
of his health.

“As
I was saying, we will send Lord Marcello and his siege warriors to the south to
strengthen your defenses at the southern walls,” continued King Angus. “We will
send Commander Boaz and his artillery units to the eastern wall to ensure the
orcs do not try to enter from that direction. Commander Gerodi will protect the
western wall and the central part of the city. I will remain here while General
Lang returns to the northern wall to continue building up defenses while
launching periodic offensive attacks.”

“Excellent,
we have a plan now, so let us put it into action right away,” said the elven
king decisively. “General Lang, this is General Verandos. He will be commanding
the southern troops while you command the northern. Do either of you have any
questions?”

“No,”
replied General Verandos with a smile.

“I
have no questions either. I will say that you have chosen wisely, King Ciel.
General Verandos is an old friend and a brilliant military strategist,” said
General Lang with a humble bow.

“It
is good to see you again, Lang. Keep safe and remember, through patience comes
true victory,” the druid said with a satisfied smile.

“We
will use my messenger owl to carry messages to the various leaders who will be
engaged in battle. She will be able to fly undetected by our enemies and can
use different methods of making her presence known to you. Got it?” asked King
Ciel. The entire room nodded to show the king that they understood.

The
council members were dismissed, and everyone who had orders or needed to get to
the battle areas departed immediately. The king was the only one who stayed
behind sitting in his chair. He countenance seemed to fall again as dread and
fear gripped his heart. He simply did not understand why his daughter was
attacking him. What was even more troubling was the idea that Kishi had allied
herself with the vile orcs of Mount Tarin.
Why are you working with the very
beasts that helped destroy the Eldar?
  He looked down at his hands and
stared at nothing in particular for nearly an hour. He felt as though his soul
was being ripped in two, and there was simply nothing he could do about it. War
was never the answer, and it would not mend his broken heart or his shattered
nation.
This could very well be the end of the elves…just like the Eldar of
old.

***

As
Lord Marcello approached the southern outer wall, his eyes were met with a sea
of orcs swarming toward the city. He immediately sprang into action by taking
off into a dead run toward the gates. He skipped the entryway and jumped up on
the wall above the doors. He stretched his arms out with his staff in his hands
high above his head. He muttered a series of spells under his breath, which
caused several things to happen all at once. The clouds overhead turned an
ominous purple color as they began to swirl. Twisters sprang up at various
locations and began to sweep would-be attackers into the air. Hail the size of
a giant’s head began to pound those that did not get swept away. Unnatural lightning
strikes began to occur with increasing frequency. Instead of white and purple
flashes of discharge, the color was golden. None of the orcs were hit, and they
seemed to take heart because of this fact.

As
the orcs regrouped and pressed forward, they were taken by complete surprise by
Marcello’s true purpose of his lightning strikes. Snakes had sprung up from the
scorched holes in the ground. These reptiles were not like any other in the
lands and appeared to be an extinct breed. These were the same creatures that
poisoned thousands of orcs during the battle they fought with the peoples of
Tuwa a thousand years ago. The Eldar had created the slithering beasts and had
used them to drive the orcs back from their forest. The snakes had a camouflage
pattern on their scales that made it impossible to see them until you had
accidentally stepped on one. They were able to mimic their changing environment
like chameleons. They averaged sixteen feet in length and could deliver their
poison in one of two ways. First, they had enormous fangs that carried enough
venom in one bite to kill five full-grown orcs. Second, they could spit their
venom at their prey, which would eat through their skin or hide within seconds
while poisoning them at the same time. There was another secret to these vile
apparitions, and that was their eyes caused a person to go temporarily insane
if they should meet its hypnotic gaze.

Several
howls of anguish and fear ripped through the already noise-filled air. Chaos
erupted as a result of this deadly attack by the giant wizard. Marcello used
the extra time created by his attack to position his siege warriors for an
offensive. They were so well positioned that they would be able to utilize the
same spots for defensive purposes. It was clear to the magician that they would
need these protected areas in the very near future. His assaults had been
nothing more than an irritant and a delay tactic. However, his actions were
very effective and provided the giants time to integrate with the battered home
guard that was still trying to defend the outer wall against an army whose
numbers were unfathomable. Spears the size of trees were released into the sea
of orcs by the giant defenders. These attacks eliminated several dozen orcs with
each throw. The orc armies were becoming highly agitated because they were
still out of their archers’ range and their siege weapons were still en route.

Lord
Marcello focused his attention on setting up a magical barrier as far out from
the outer wall as possible so that the armies’ approach would be even further
delayed. After he had finished with this task, he used his powers to enhance
the integrity of the walls and all entryways. He then jumped down from the
bulwark that was barely taller than he was and made his way back into the heart
of the city. He had used a great deal of magic within a relatively short space
of time once again and needed to rest.
I hope that my efforts will be enough
to delay those vile beasts from attacking long enough for me to regain my
strength.
He sat down in the king’s courtyard and leaned back against the
fountain and began to sleep. It was an amazing sight to behold…a massive giant
asleep in the midst of a full on battle. He had done his part; now it was up to
the home guard and his siege warriors to fend off the seething mass of orcs
while he regained his strength. He knew that doing so many complex spells so
close together could kill him, so he was truly spent after his valiant efforts.