R. Salvatore - Bastion of Darkness

He thought that one of those fights had indeed come to him when he was awakened from his sleep sometime later. He didn’t immediately move, other than to slip his hand over the hilt of Pouilla Camby. He kept his eyes half closed, shifting his gaze from side to side, and listened intently for any sounds, or any stirring of the alert pegasus.

Nothing was apparent, and Belexus understood that it was his sixth sense, his warrior alertness, that had put him on his guard. That sense railed him now; someone, or something, was in the area.

A snort from Calamus sent him into motion, rolling to his side, then to his knees, sword drawn and ready, eyes scanning the area. He caught some movement to the side, by a large tree, and hopped into a crouch, still glancing all about. Then, satisfied that the other areas of the camp were clear, he focused on that tree, trying to get some measure of his enemy.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” a familiar voice came, and the ranger relaxed and lowered his blade. Jeffrey DelGiudice floated into view, drifting right through the tree. “I meant to let you sleep the night,” the spirit explained. “And to watch over you.” He regarded the ranger’s alert stance, the drawn sword. “But I see that you need little watching over,” he added with a chuckle.

“Why’ve ye come?” Belexus asked.

“For Brielle,” Del answered immediately.

Belexus quickly fought down the jealous feelings that stirred within him, biting them back fully, determined not to let his pride get in the way of this all-important mission. Rescuing Rhiannon was paramount; however it was accomplished, and by whom, was not really important.

“Together we’ll get to Talas-dun, then,” the ranger reasoned.

“No,” Del replied. “I mean, that’s why Brielle bade me to come and get you.”

“What news?” the ranger asked urgently. “Is her girl safe then?”

“No,” Del answered, and then, seeing the ranger’s crestfallen expression, quickly added, “Not yet.”

Belexus breathed a sigh of relief.

“But Bryan of Corning is in Talas-dun, so Brielle says,” Del explained. “And the witch is with him, in spirit if not in body.”

“Then we should be making all haste to join the lad,” Belexus reasoned, and started for Calamus.

“No,” the spirit replied, stopping the ranger short. “Brielle has foreseen another danger, one more immediate. Arien is marching west.”

“I’ve seen as much.”

“And Benador comes from the southeast with a huge force,” Del went on.

“Ayuh,” the ranger agreed. “And they’ll be finding each other in the foothills, so’s me guess.”

“But before they get there, they’ll be fighting,” Del explained, “for Thalasi’s army is massing in those foothills. And Brielle fears that each force will be hit hard before they can join together, to the sorrow of the not-so-numerous elves, no doubt. She wants us to prevent that.”

Belexus didn’t know how to take the request. Certainly he understood the valuable role he could play in the forthcoming battle, flying high above the battlefield on Calamus, marking enemy positions and strength, but his heart was for Brielle, and for Rhiannon, and he didn’t know how he could leave the young witch in the dungeons of Talas-dun, no matter the callings of duty.

“Brielle has placed her confidence in Bryan,” Del said, as if reading his thoughts. “She would not have asked you-asked us-to detour from the course to Talas-dun if she didn’t believe honestly that Bryan would get Rhiannon out of there.”

Again, the ranger was not so sure of that. For all her love for her daughter, Brielle was an altruistic one, who always, always, placed the greater good first. Belexus understood that her choice in detouring him was based more in her fears for the coming battle than in her hopes for Rhiannon’s salvation.

“Yerself can be the scout for the armies,” the ranger reasoned.

“What do I know of tactics?” Del asked. “And what do I know of Benador and Arien? How will they-and more important, how will their soldiers-react when a ghost shows up in their midst? A ghost, they might believe, sent by Thalasi to deter them.”

The ranger glanced all around, feeling suddenly like his options were running thin. Above the pain in his heart, the mere fact that Brielle had asked him to turn away from Rhiannon revealed how important she thought his role in the coming battle must be. And in considering the scenario, Belexus could not disagree. With the pegasus, and his present position, he could get a fair measure of Thalasi’s force and inform both Arien and Benador long before they neared the battlefield. With a bit of luck, any ambush that Thalasi had planned for the coming armies might be turned back on the talons.

“Get yer rest,” Belexus said. “We’ll be up high in the morning.”

“I don’t need any,” Del replied.

“Then go and play with yer tree,” the ranger said, managing a bit of a smile.

He came in wildly, swinging and hacking with apparent abandon. But Bryan was in complete control, his every strike strengthened by rage but tempered by his warrior sensibilities. He saw Rhiannon hanging in shackles, badly beaten, but he did not let the sight truly register, did not let it bring him to despair.

He only let it cause him rage, and in the first few seconds of that charge through the door, Bryan had both the zombie guards hacked down to the floor and had put the talon jailor, the largest and ugliest talon he had ever seen, back on its heels, waving its chain and huge dagger frantically in a desperate defense.

The creature was no match for the outraged warrior, and Bryan’s powerful swings kept it backing and scrambling. It tried to retreat in an angle that would give it clear flight out the door, but Bryan would have none of that, dragging his back foot whenever he advanced, so he could change to any direction immediately in perfect balance.

In thrust his sword; the talon leaped back and whipped the chain across, and the metal links wound about Bryan’s weapon. Before the talon’s smile could ever widen on its ugly face, though, Bryan turned his shoulder and rushed in, slamming the creature hard with his shield, pinning its dagger hand in close to its side.

The talon dropped one foot back, expecting Bryan to continue his press, but the half-elf, recognizing that the talon was the stronger, did not want to play this close in combat. Instead of advancing, the half-elf dropped his sword shoulder and pivoted back across and under his turning shield, twisting the chain free of the talon’s grasp. Before the ugly creature could counter the move, before it could slip through the sudden opening for a clear slash at Bryan’s side, the half-elf snapped his blade out to the side, launching the chain across the room, then put the sword back in line with the talon.

The creature had only one recourse remaining; it darted to the side and back, nearing Rhiannon. “Yous come on and she gets sticked!” the wretched brute cried.

Hardly thinking of the movement, Bryan tossed his sword in the air, caught it in a reverse grip, and hurled it across the span. He started a rush right behind the flying blade, but no need, for the lightning-spewing weapon had done its work, driving hard through the talon’s chest, dropping it to lean against the back wall, where it slid down to the floor, down to death.

Bryan was beside Rhiannon in an instant, not even slowing to retrieve his sword.

“Ye should’no’ve come,” the woman whispered.

In response, the half-elf laughed. Not a mocking laugh, but one of the greatest relief that he had found the woman alive. He considered Rhiannon’s chains then, and looked first to the jailor, wondering if he might find keys in its pockets. That didn’t seem likely, not for so valuable a prisoner as this. He found another answer, though, and went to gather his sword, the weapon Brielle had so strongly enchanted.