[Vfw-times] MK Counter strike part 8

[COkane8116 at aol.com]

   "Pater noster, qui es in caelis, sanctificetur nomen tuum," Edmund prayed 
softly. It had been a long and trying day. The passage through that ruins of 
destroyed Sueliman town had been long and trying. Edmund could understand why 
the Keepers avoided the place. It would un-nerve the most hardened warrior.

   He was glad to finally find the time for his prayers. He truly enjoyed 
them. Concentrating his heart and soul into the words let him forget all the 
worries of the world. It let him think of what really mattered his faith.

   "Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra."

   He didn't see it at first but he felt it with some instinct built of long 
years of fighting and travel.

   "Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie, et dimitte nobis debita nostra 
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris."

   It was merely the feeling of being watched, that he knew he was no longer 
alone.

   "Et ne nos inducas in tentationem, sed libera nos a malo."

   He also knew that it was the shadow.

   "Amen."

   Turning slowly he caught sight of a black mass pooled near a tall oak 
tree. The figure vaguely visible in the thin moonlight was roughly shaped 
like a human but it was hard to tell where the shadows ended and the figure 
began. If the two were separate.

   "My name is Sir Edmond Delacot. Protector of the innocent and defender of 
the faithful and a Knight of the Order of the Protectors," he said and bowed 
deeply in greeting to the shadowy form. "Be you spirit, or living creature, 
if you seek to do evil this night. It may be dearly bought." With those words 
he placed his right hand upon the hilt of his sword.

   The creature didn't answer but simply stood there watching the paladin 
with eyes as red as flames. After a moment it stood up and moved slowly in a 
circle around the man. It just seemed to flow over the ground making not a 
sound as it did so.

   Edmund never took his eyes off of it but turned slowly around as it 
circled him. He was sure it was gauging him, looking for a weakness.

   The paladin didn't show any weakness. He refused to panic and flee but he 
wasn't so stupid as to draw his sword and attack. Instead he crossed his arms 
and simply looked at the creature.

   "Nul Tulo," Edmund said calmly giving the old Sueliman greeting used when 
meeting a person who was your social equal.

   The shadow stopped in its tracks and seemed to be shocked. A very long 
silence fell over the pair. It was a long time before it spoke.

   "Flituro gi," the shadow answered giving the traditional reply in a voice 
as soft as a whisper.

   "Mekolatu sull le trant. Nataluno ba fernu shlitan verturn." 'It is my 
honor to meet such an esteemed person' the paladin said in Sueliman.

   "I apologize if my men and I have intruded onto your land," he continued 
slowly in the same language. Speaking the old tongue was never easy. It had 
long ago faded from common use. Remembered only by a few antiquarians and 
clerks who kept it alive for their own obscure uses.

   "Why have you invaded this land?" came the shadows question.

   "Nasoj is the true invader here," the warrior answered. "We are merely 
passing through as we seek to destroy his evil."

   "The trivial affairs of barbarians is of no concern to me."

   Edmund was surprised to be called a barbarian and his pride got the better 
of him. "My family has been a great noble house for over thousand years," he 
replied with more anger then he had intended. "My founding ancestor was 
Marsus Decolious who led the army that defeated the barbarian hordes at the 
Glade of the three Stones." He was proud of his genealogy even if some of it 
felt more like a fairy tale then truth. Marsus was supposed to have changed 
into a giant wolf and single handedly slaughtered a score of warriors. That 
part of the story had always been hard to believe until he had arrived at 
Metamor. Now it seemed almost mundane.

   "When the empire fell my ancestors stood their ground and fought to 
protect the innocent. Even with his home destroyed and all other places taken 
his castle alone withstood the barbarians. It was untaken despite a dozen 
attacks. My ancestor Sir Tormus died defending the great church of Dartuth. 
He gave his life so that all inside could flee to safety." 

   The shadow just looked at him for a moment and he could feel those red 
eyes boring into him. "If you are of his house why do you not wear the emblem 
of the empire?"

   "The empire is gone for many centuries," the paladin said shaking his 
head. "Long have we struggled to regain the peace and prosperity that we lost 
with its downfall."

   There was a long silence before it spoke again. "Where do you hail from?" 
the Shadow asked.

   "From Murigund. The land the Sueliman call Pintia."

   "Then you are a long way from home. Why do you come here to fight? Do you 
not have wars closer to your own land? Why invade mine?"

   Edmund ignored the implied threat. "I have dedicated my sword to the Great 
One who created us all. I fight evil wherever it may be. Borders matter 
little to me. Where there is evil I destroy it."

   "Even evil like me?" it asked.

   "You are not evil," he countered flatly. "I do not know what your truly 
are but you are not evil. The only evil here is that which has trapped the 
lost souls who haunt these woods."

   The shadow didn't speak for a very long time. "I failed to save them in 
life and now in death I still fail them," it said in a voice full of pain. 
"They walk and haunt these woods still. And I cannot give them the rest they 
deserve. All I can do is watch and weep at their entrapment." There was a 
great sadness in the fox's words that seemed to come from its very soul. 
Those eyes stared into his own but they didn't seem so hateful. Instead they 
seemed full of pain and anguish.

   "To all things come rest and release," the paladin said softly. "It is 
just a matter of patience."

   "I have waited six hundred years. Watched their tortured souls repeat 
their deaths each night."

   Edmund stepped closer and laid his right hand onto the shadow's shoulder. 
It felt cool to the touch - like water fresh from a mountain stream. "I 
promise you this. I will find a way to free them. With the Great One as my 
witness I so swear."

   The figure shivered a bit and looked at him. And the pain drifted away 
from it's eyes for a moment. Then there was doubt and anger.

   Edmund laid his hands on the shadows head. "Be at ease."

   Calm filled the air and the figure relaxed.

   "I know in my heart that the Great One meant for us to meet this night," 
the paladin explained. "It is my destiny and honor to be allowed to help put 
these people to rest." He was telling the truth. He could never explain how 
he knew it but he did. The knowledge was there. As if whispered to him by an 
angel.

   "The night is young, I wish to see these souls. I must if I am to help 
them."

   Without a word the Shadowfox stood up and moved back into the forest. The 
Paladin followed.


**********************


   It was almost dawn when the paladin finally returned to the camp which was 
in turmoil. He just walked out of the woods as easily as if he'd simply gone 
for a walk. Sir Terrant, Misha and a dozen knights and soldiers swarmed 
around him.

   "Sir, are you all right?" Terrant asked. "We thought that the shadow or a 
ghost had taken you."

   "I am well and unharmed," the paladin answered calmly. "I went off to pray 
alone and lost my bearings. It took me a while to find the path back."

   Misha gave a laugh and a shake of his head, "After all the warnings to 
your own people you yourself got lost."

   "Back to your tasks," Terrant ordered. "We are leaving within the hour."

   The crowd dispersed as quickly as it had gathered. Misha, Terrant, and 
Edmund stood silent until they were alone.

   "You've seen it," Misha stated simply.

   "Yes. It came to the camp before midnight, while I was in prayer."

   "And?"

   "We spoke."

   "You spoke to it?" Terrant asked. "It didn't try and kill you?"

   "I think it was more curious then hostile."

   Misha nodded. "It took you to the fortress." That was a statement of fact 
not a question.

   The paladin hung his head in sadness. "So many lost souls. Trapped between 
life and death."

 "Worry about our war," Misha suggested. "Theirs is over."

   "Their war IS our war," Edmund answered enigmatically. "They are one and 
the same." 

   "We both fight the same enemy," Sir Terrant commented. "It's been the same 
enemy for a thousand years."


**********************


   "So exactly how large is the army arrayed against us?" Bidwell asked Misha 
and the other people standing around him. The group was standing under the 
bare branches of an old elm tree. The snow underneath it had been trampled 
down and a small table set up.

   "This is the Baron's main army," the vulpine answered pointing to a spot 
on the map. "So far we've found three thousand Lutins from some ten tribes. 
Also he has two hundred and fifty humans all heavy cavalry, thirty-five ogres 
and four giants. Plus another two hundred and fifty Lutins and fifty human 
infantry who are from Nasoj's Druzhina - his personal guard."

   "They're about even with our own forces," the nobleman commented. "How 
accurate is that guess?"

   "That's from a visual head count, but what we need to worry about is what 
we don't see."

   "Meaning?" Bidwell asked.

   "Nothing certain," Misha answered. "But a lot of little clues scattered 
about point to the fact that they're hiding something. And there is 
definitely powerful magic being used."

   "Makes sense that Nasoj would send magic to back up his arm," Rickkter 
commented quietly.

   "He needs to win this battle. Nasoj needs to show that he is still 
powerful," the scout commented. "Or he will loose what little control he has 
over the Lutins."


   Bidwell nodded in agreement. "It will be long after dark before the bulk 
of the army has arrived. So we must put off the battle till tomorrow morning. 
I doubt that he'll risk leaving such a powerful position and attack."

   "That will give me and my people time to maneuver behind his sentries and 
strike at the Baron himself," Misha stated.

   "You make it sound so simple," a nobleman said.

   "It isn't easy but we've been doing it for years," the fox explained. 
"Once darkness hits we can sneak through the sentry line with little problem. 
The difficultly will be getting to the Baron. He's sure to be surrounded by a 
lot of guards and mages.

   "He's a tricky bastard. He always manages to save his own skin," Finbar 
said, speaking for the first time.

   "I'm surprised he is fighting at all," Sir Edmund commented. "He has the 
character of one who would have fled long ago."

   Misha nodded. "Me too. It's possible that he HAS fled and that someone 
else is in command now. Some still loyal lackey."

   "Don't matter who it is," Finbar commented. "We'll kill him."

   "The main body of his army is deployed here," The Misha, said pointing to 
the map, "behind this stream but he has a line of pickets on this side along 
with some five hundred Lutins. The Barons tent is several hundred yards 
behind the river alongside the road." 

   "Is there a ford nearby?"

   "There was a bridge there once, but that stream has never been very deep," 
Misha explained. "The only place to cross is fifteen miles upstream at 
Denders crossing. But it's a foot bridge and barely able to handle one person 
at a time. There is a ford." He pointed at a point on the river in the dead 
center of the defenders army. There was a faint brown line, obviously it 
represented the ford. "The road itself runs straight across it. It's only 
about waist high but it's going to be VERY cold."

   The nobleman nodded and ran his finger along the blue line that 
represented the stream before stopping at the brown line that represented the 
ford. "All the Lutins on this side of the river are merely to slow us down 
and give warning to the rest. The real fighting will be at the ford. He'll 
put his best troops there."

   "Once things get dark," George commented. "I'll send my people out to stir 
things up a little. That should keep them off guard till dawn."

   "Why wait till dawn to attack? If we strike tonight we'll certainly catch 
them off guard. They wouldn't be expecting humans to attack in darkness," 
Rickkter said suddenly.

   The fox scout nodded in agreement. "The Lutins prefer darkness because 
they know most humans can't see. But that means little now as most of us can 
see in the darkness."

   "I don't need to see a lutin," Finbar added. "I can SMELL them a mile 
off."

   "We can also smell you a mile off," commented George sarcastically.

   "I'll place the infantry here on the left flank with the bulk of the 
cavalry," Bidwell said, cutting off any further exchange of insults. "The 
center and the rest of the line will be held by a screen of light cavalry and 
infantry."

   "George, I want your people to be on the right flank and stir up trouble. 
Make them think we'll attack there."

   The jackal nodded in response. "Done."

   "When we attack we'll sweep towards the river. Any Lutin we find will 
either be forced to choose between standing and being killed by us or 
drowning in the river. Once we have secured this side of the river we'll move 
on the ford. The hardest fighting will most certainly be there."

   No one doubted the man. Crossing a river against a determined enemy would 
difficult if not impossible.

   "I'd like to keep Sir Edmund and his people with me," Misha said. "I could 
use the extra support."

   "Of course," Bidwell answered. "What are you planning?"

   "A double stroke. My people and me will infiltrate the Barons camp while 
Sir Edmunds troops swing around the army and come at them from the northeast. 
Once we strike all shades of havoc will break out. Without Edmunds troops to 
come to our relief we could be overwhelmed."

   "How will you get across?"

   "We can cross at Denders crossing," the fox explained. We can ride as far 
as the river with sir Edmund. It will take Edmunds troops at least two hors 
to cross one at a time. That will allow my people to move ahead and take get 
to the camp first."

   "I think you should take Rickkter with you," George suggested.

   "Why?" Misha asked.

   "I think you might need his magic," was the canine's answer, which 
explained nothing.

   Rickkter smirked. "You said the baron would be protected by magic, didn't 
you? Besides, I can create some nasty havoc behind their lines, give them one 
more thing to worry about."

   "All right," Misha said. "Rickkter will come with us."


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