The Ranger (Book 1) (35 page)

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Authors: E.A. Whitehead

BOOK: The Ranger (Book 1)
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“But it gets worse,” Silva continued, “Abbot Markov’s condition continues to worsen. The barrier has already begun to diminish. It covers barely half the area it once did. If his condition continues to decay, the Grand Abbey will no longer be a safe haven for us.”

“I see,” Trent said sullenly as he put down the paper Silva had given him. “It is much worse than I thought.”

“It is,” Silva agreed. “We need to move quickly. When the barrier falls, the Grand Abbey will be completely undefended. It is imperative that we are there before that happens.”

“How many of the Rangers are here?” Trent asked.

“Just over five hundred,” Silva replied. “There are still many unaccounted for, but even if we had our full strength, I’m not sure it would be enough to fend off the Eresian Army.”

“It will have to be,” Trent said, slamming a fist down onto the table, toppling several piles of paper. “It’s the only hope we’ve got.”

“Very well,” Silva sighed, “gather the Rangers. I will speak to them before we leave.”

Trent nodded and rose from his seat. He left Silva’s cabin followed by Weston, David and Lauren. Vincent remained seated a moment before he too rose to his feet, and headed for the door.

“Wait a moment,” Silva called, “don’t leave yet. I have something for you, something that I value highly.”

“What is it?” Vincent stopped. He turned to Silva with a curious look. What could Silva possibly have for him?

Silva went to the chest at the foot of his bed and kicked it open. He started rummaging through it, throwing things out of it as he went. Some of the things looked as though they belonged to another age.

“Here it is,” Silva exclaimed happily. He pulled out a gold mask from the chest and handed it to Vincent. Vincent turned to over in his hands, it looked just like the other Ranger masks, except that it was gold.

“What is it?” he asked.

“That was your father’s mask,” Silva explained. “He entrusted it to me when he left the Rangers.”

“But what’s so special about it?”

“It is a unique item,” Silva explained in a hushed voice. “That mask may only be worn by the Guardian. It was given to Breen, the first Pallàdrim, by the Goddess herself. The Elemental Lords will recognize the wearer as the leader of Pallà’s armies. It is indestructible. You must keep it safe. My time is nearing its end. It is up to you now to defend the Royal Family. You are not yet a Pallàdrim, but you must be the Guardian. Keep Lauren safe, whatever it takes.”

Vincent held the mask, staring at it. Not even a scratch marked its perfectly polished surface. It all seemed surreal.

“What do you mean,” Vincent asked at length, “that your time is nearing its end? I thought the Pallàdrim were untouched by age.”

“We are Vincent,” Silva smiled, a great sadness seemed hidden in the smile. “I don’t think that I will survive the battle to come.”

“No,” Vincent said firmly. “No, they can’t kill you.”

“If only that were so,” Silva said, shaking his head. “But don’t worry; I have lived long enough. I have grown tired of running. It is up to you to carry on. You are our hope. Please don’t let us down.”

Vincent looked at the mask once more. He tightened his grip on it and nodded.

“Good,” Silva said, sounding relieved, “go now. I wish to be alone.”

Vincent left the cabin, still looking at the mask. The camp seemed to be in chaos now as the Rangers rushed to pull down tents and prepare their things for the march to the abbey. Trent was the only one who seemed calm, standing in the center of the training field, shouting orders to the Rangers who ran past him.

 

* * * * * * * * *

 

The Rangers were gathering on the training field. Silva was already standing there, with Trent at his side. Organized ranks were forming. It was the most structured gathering of Rangers Vincent had ever seen.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the Rangers to join the gathering. Vincent and Lauren were standing in the front row, next to David and Weston. A hush fell over the group as Silva stepped forward.

“Rangers,” Silva began, “for many years now, we have been preparing for the day when the Eresian Empire would move against us. That time has come, and we must stand together. As we speak, the Magi are preparing to march against the Grand Abbey, to destroy everything that it stands for. We cannot stand idly by and let that happen. Unfortunately, I doubt that we will succeed. There are thousands of soldiers at their disposal, and we number a meager five hundred. So, the time has come when we must decide where our loyalties truly lie. Do we run from certain death, or do we stand and meet it head on? I cannot make this choice for you. I will not order you to die against your will. So now is your chance. If you do not wish to stand with us, to die by our sides, then go now. I will not think any less of a man who leaves.”

Silva turned his back on the ranks of Rangers. An uneasy murmur spread through the group as most whispered about what Silva had said. The murmur grew in intensity, but not one man broke ranks. After what seemed like an eternity, Silva turned back to the Rangers. The look on his face showed that he had expected at least some of the men to have left. He smiled.

“Rangers,” he continued, “I am honoured by your bravery. Some might wish that we had more men, but not I. I would not take one more man above those that are gathered here. We may be small in numbers, but we are large in heart, and that cannot be destroyed. I will miss standing with you, my brothers.” Silva broke off speaking and Trent stepped forward.

“The mission on which we are about to embark will be one of legend,” Trent shouted. “Our black class mission is to reach the Grand Abbey and defend it, to the last man. We have received reports that the abbey at Spacco has already fallen, and the Sanctuary of Senno has been corrupted. There is no hope of receiving reinforcements from either location. We stand alone. Therefore, we must…”

A thunderous boom cut him off. Everyone turned to the source of the sound at the back wall of the encampment. It sounded again. A few people took a tentative step toward the noise.

The third boom sent a large chunk of the wall tumbling down, revealing two giants swinging their clubs at the wall. As the section of wall crumbled, a horde of creatures came gushing through: trolls, minotaurs, gnolls, ogres and goblins.

“Run,” Silva commanded as three Magi walked through the hole in the wall. “Head for the abbey. Go now!”

Vincent grabbed Lauren’s arm and started to run, but Silva caught his shoulder.

“Here, take this,” Silva said, shoving his sword into Vincent’s free hand. “Remember, protect her at all costs.” Silva turned, embracing his token as he went, forming a sword of flames and charged at the coming horde.

“Come on,” Trent called grabbing Vincent’s other shoulder. “We haven’t got much time. We need to hurry.”

Vincent took one last look at the man who had been his mentor and then turned and ran with the others.

Most of the others had already forced their way through the small gate, so Vincent and Lauren didn’t have trouble getting through. Outside the wall was chaos. Most of the Rangers were running in the direction of the Grand Abbey, but a few remained behind to fight the monsters that were quickly rushing around the outside of the wall from the back.

Arrows were whistling between the trees. Vincent had to duck more than once to avoid being hit. Grabbing Lauren’s arm again, Vincent ran for the road. She struggled, trying to get him to let her go, trying to make him let her stay behind; but Vincent’s grip held firm. They broke from the forest onto the road just as an arrow found its mark in Vincent’s right shoulder. Lauren broke the shaft before encouraging him onward.

A steady stream of Rangers was running down the main road to the Grand Abbey, however, several were having difficulty due to deep wounds in their arms and legs. Trent led the pack, carrying a wounded Ranger on his back and supporting another.

Lauren finally broke free, drawing her short sword and turning toward the forest.

“We can’t just leave them here,” Lauren said, pointing at the injured Rangers, who were slowly staggering along. “We have to help them.”

Vincent couldn’t disagree with her on this one. He drew his blade and stood next to Lauren, encouraging the wounded men to keep moving. David and Weston rushed by not long after, leading another small group.

“You two had best get a move on,” Weston called as he hurried past. “The main force from the back wall has made its way around, they’ll reach you soon.”

They could hear the approaching hoard through the trees. Suddenly, the white blade in Vincent’s hand, the one given to him by Silva just minutes before, started to heat up. Looking toward the sky, Vincent could see flames soar above the trees, and they were expanding rapidly and coming straight for them. The sword in Vincent’s hand suddenly turned black and icy cold.

“We need to go,” Vincent shouted to Lauren. “Now!”

“But we can’t leave them,” she protested.

“There’s no time,” Vincent shouted back, grabbing her arm and running.

The screeches from the monsters in the forest grew more frantic, but Vincent ignored them and kept running. Glancing behind him, he saw the trees at the edge of the road burst into flames as the unstoppable wall of fire marking Silva’s death advanced.

Lauren, who was still fighting to be free of Vincent’s grip, looked back at the same instant. She stopped fighting against him and started to pull him to go faster.

They ran as fast as they could, passing some of the slower Rangers as they went. They didn’t look back, didn’t dare slow down, fearing the consequences. They were catching up with David and Weston. To Vincent’s shock and amazement, David had a large smile on his face. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

Vincent’s shock turned to horror as Weston tripped over a tree root sticking out of the road, and fell flat on the ground. The smile dropped from David’s face as he watched his partner fall. He stopped and quickly went back for his friend. Vincent wanted to stop, wanted to go back and help; but he had to keep going. He had to make sure Lauren made it safely to the abbey.

The wall was steadily gaining on them. The Rangers ahead of them started to run faster as well, but it seemed to make little difference, it was still gaining on them. David and Weston were back on their feet, but the wall was licking at their backs as they ran. Then, as abruptly as it had appeared, the fire was gone.

 

Chapter 20: The Gathering Storm

 

 

 

Vincent and Lauren stood, panting, as they looked behind them. The forest on both sides of the road was gone; burnt to flat ground. There was nothing left.

Vincent turned, still in shock, and started walking once again toward the abbey. Lauren quickly followed. Many of the Rangers were still staring behind them, still disbelieving what had happened.

There was silence through the woods as the stricken group of Rangers plodded onward. They walked for hours, oblivious to everything.

It was nearing dawn when the abbey came into view. A wave of relief came over Vincent as he grabbed Lauren’s arm and pulled her toward the gates of the abbey. She was barely conscious as Vincent started pounding on the large wooden doors.

The booming knocks echoed across the empty grounds. Very few people would be awake at this hour, but at least a few guards should be posted on the walls.

One of the doors creaked open just enough for one of the Knights to peek through.

“Who is it?” the Knight asked, sounding very disgruntled. “The gates don’t open for travelers until daybreak. You’ll have to wait. There is another two hours till sunrise.”

“We are not travelers,” Vincent said, so tired he could barely speak. “We are Rangers; and we are all that are left.”

The door swung open. The Knight stood in the opening, holding his lamp high above his head. The group of Rangers around Vincent was a sorry sight. Their cloaks were dirty and torn. Ash smeared their masks, most of which were hanging around their necks. Some looked as though they wouldn’t last another step. Kai, whose shirt had been completely burned off, but was otherwise unhurt, was carrying four Rangers in his arms and one on his back, Trent was almost carrying two others, while David was helping Weston, who had been severely burned. Barely a hundred had survived.

Vincent took a step forward and his legs finally gave out. The knight at the gate rushed to help, motioning for the others on the wall to come and help. Before long the abbey was stirring as priests and monks rushed about, trying to rejuvenate the battered Rangers.

It was near midday when they finished working on the last of the Rangers. Vincent had been placed in his old room in the academy dormitories. It felt good to be back in his old room; although, it was different without Thomas and his competitive nature sharing it with him.

Instead, Lauren sat on Thomas’ old bed. She had needed little healing and had slept most of the morning. She sat silently, staring blindly into space. A single tear ran down her cheek.

Vincent’s shoulder had healed well, and he now felt much better. Yet, there was still an empty feeling at the loss of Master Silva. It was a loss that Lauren no doubt was feeling as well, probably even more than he was. Silva had been like a father to her, had taken her in, and now he was gone. Vincent wanted to say something to comfort her, but the words wouldn’t come.

A loud knock on the door startled them both. The visitor didn’t wait for an answer, but opened the door and walked in. Master Auna stood in the doorway, accompanied by Trent.

“Good,” Auna said as he walked in, “you’re both awake.” Auna swept into the room, wearing his red robes, Trent quickly followed before Auna hastily shut the door. “Do you have the mask?”

“Yes,” Vincent replied hesitantly, going to his pack and pulling it out. Auna seemed noticeably relieved.

“And the stone,” Auna asked, becoming anxious once again. Vincent pulled the glowing gem from under his shirt. “Good,” Auna sighed, “then all is not lost.” Auna looked noticeably relieved at this news.

“For the time being you must both remain here,” Trent added, allowing Auna time to compose himself. “However, Abbot Markov has not decided what is to be done with you yet. We cannot simply hand you over to the Eresians as they demand, but if you remain here it will draw the Magi, and we are not in a state where we could repel them.”

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