Ritual of the Stones (Ballad of Frindoth) (39 page)

BOOK: Ritual of the Stones (Ballad of Frindoth)
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“Why
don’t you go for the bloody neck, we can’t even reach it,” Ryio replied.

It
was the last words he ever uttered as the Gloom knocked him to the ground and
clamped his teeth on the Laughing Knight’s body. The Gloom swung his head back
and forth almost playing with the body before crunching it in half and sending
it hurtling in two different directions.

Suddenly
a woman’s shrill scream filled the air. The blond woman flew off of the table
and onto the Gloom’s back. She stabbed down furiously with her own sword. The
Gloom bucked like a donkey in an effort to shake her off and although the woman
lost control of her sword, she stubbornly stayed on its back by holding on to
its horns.

Taking
encouragement from the woman’s bravery, Cody laid into the creature with
everything he had, hacking away at any part of the body he could get close to.
The Gloom continued to try and shake the woman off, kicking its legs out behind
him.

The
blow connected with Longshaw’s chest causing him to fold over and collapse.
King Jacquard immediately rushed to Longshaw’s fallen body and pulled the
knight to safety before he was trampled.

Mansuri
took advantage of the Gloom’s anger and darted in and out of the creatures’
legs, stabbing upwards and opening up deep wounds in its belly. The offense
caused blood to fall copiously, so that soon both Mansuri and Cody were covered
in the viscous substance.

Kristan
unleashed a steady stream of arrows that pierced the Gloom’s body, each one
finding its mark and infuriating the creature even more.

In a
final effort to rid itself of the nuisance on its back, the Gloom reared onto
its hind legs and let out a savage cry. More snow fell from the mountain top,
the icy flakes a welcome relief on Cody’s face. The Gloom’s manoeuvre was a
success. The woman fell with a startled cry. A look of panic was replaced by
surprise as she landed on her back, the wind knocked out of her.

As
the Gloom fell back down on all fours, Mondorlous took three quick strides and
positioned his sword under the Gloom’s throat. The creature impaled itself on
the blade up to the hilt as Mondorlous deftly rolled out of the way of the
thrashing beast’s paw.

The
Gloom released a high-pitched scream and fell to the ground trying to shake the
blade from its neck. The creature tried to reach the sword with its front legs
but was unable to get even close. Cody and Mansuri fell back to help the winded
woman to safety and watched as the Gloom struggled to take its final breaths.

The
Gloom struggled on for a few more minutes, whining in agony and trying to find
a way to free itself. It circled a few times, its legs giving out every now and
then. Eventually it slumped to the floor on its side, its legs twitching and
its breathing becoming more and more laboured.

“Fools,
you have no idea.”

The
words sounded in Cody’s head again and sent chills down his spine even if he
did not understand them. Finally the Gloom took a long intake of air before
exhaling for the last time. The body relaxed and the head flopped to the
ground.

*
* *

Marybeth
stared at the fallen beast. It was over. After centuries of enduring its evil,
they had rid Frindoth of oppression. For a moment all she could do was stare at
the creature as the magnitude of what they had achieved hit her.

In
the final minutes of its life, the Gloom had almost seemed animal like. She had
almost felt a pang of sympathy on hearin the whimpering noise the Gloom had
made. The destruction it had caused, the sheer volume of lives it had taken and
the immeasurable misery it had inflicted, forgotten for a brief moment.

The
other survivors also stared at the Gloom’s corpse in a state of shock. They had
defeated the Gloom! The destructive force that had caused Frindoth to live in
fear for years was no more. The entity that was apparently impervious to pain
and their small party had slaughtered it! It wasn’t easy, but it certainly had
been achievable.

Before
she could bask in the elation of victory, however, she noticed the fallen
bodies of the slain knights. Her ears burned as anger swept over her. She
thought of all the other lives wasted, the thousands of people that had
suffered and for what? For nothing.

She
turned to Iskandar as the rage engulfed her. Before she could do anything,
though, it appeared the king had reached the same conclusion. He stomped up to
the leader of the Order and swung at him. Iskandar did not make any effort to
intercept the punch and surprisingly neither did Mondorlous. The blow rocked
Iskandar back on his heels but he did not go down.

“You
knew how to defeat that?” Jacquard screamed, pointing at the fallen carcass of
the Gloom. As he spoke, spittle fell upon Iskandar’s face. The others looked
on, a mixture of unease and conviction on their faces. “You knew and still you
let all
those
people die. It took a dozen of us to defeat that thing. Less, actually, as you
did nothing, I noticed.”

Jacquard
struck him again, and then a third and fourth time, before Iskandar propelled
the king backwards, unleashing an invisible volley of force from the palm of
his hand.

The
show of power surprised Marybeth. She had never seen Iskandar yield magic before.
He moved with complete confidence. The king was knocked to the ground. Iskandar
stood over him, his back to Marybeth.

The
king looked shocked; the remaining knights drew their swords. Again Mondorlous
made no move to intercede, his usual passive face looked pained as if for the
first time he was unsure of his leader.

“How
dare you,” Jacquard began.

“You
do not understand,” Iskandar said.

Marybeth
had heard enough. Years of bottled up anger came to the surface. She did not
want to hear anymore of his lies. She did not want to hear any kind of
explanation and watch as he wormed his way out of trouble. Whatever his
reasons, he had killed her father and committed such an atrocity against
Frindoth he deserved to be slain.

She
retrieved her sword and in a few quick steps fell upon Iskandar, plunging the
sword into his back. The blade penetrated his entire body and emerged through
Iskandar’s chest. He looked down at the bloody tip protruding from his rib cage
and frowned, as if he couldn’t figure out how it got there.

Marybeth
did not take any chances and twisted the blade. The action evoked a short cry
from him.

“We
do not need to hear your pathetic explanations,” she said and then whispered so
only he could hear her, “That was for my father.”

She
withdrew the sword and watched as he fell to his knees before her. The others
looked at her in shock. The king got to his feet and seemed unsure how to
handle the latest developments. Only Mondorlous reacted, rushing to Iskandar’s
side. The giant man closed his eyes and placed his palms on the wound,
whispering softly.

“No,
my friend,” Iskandar said as he tenderly lifted Mondorlous’s hands from the
wound. “It is my time.”

Marybeth
had heard the bards tell of stories where a wronged man sought to avenge the
death of a family member. The bards sang of the moment the man exacted his
revenge but instead of feeling relief and a sense of closure, they felt nothing
at all. In the tales, death did not bring satisfaction. This was not the case
with her.

She
felt light-headed, elated even. For years, she had waited for this moment and
the revenge felt every bit as sweet as she had imagined. She relished the pain
etched all over Iskandar’s face. A weight that had been suffocating her for
years had now lifted. She felt free of its burden at long last.

“What
is that?” It was one of the knights that had spoken. The one the Gloom had
donkey kicked to the ground. His face blanched as he looked at the table behind
Marybeth. She whirled around and frowned at what she saw.

The
three stones she and Janna had struggled to insert in the slots were now
levitating above the table. They were shooting towards each other, missing and
then arcing back. Each time the distance between them grew shorter and their
speed increased. A high-pitched screeching sound filled the air.

“You
must flee,” Iskandar said. His voice was considerably weaker now.

 “What
is happening?” Jacquard asked. Iskandar closed his eyes and swallowed. A look
of resignation on his face, as if he had done all he could but it still was not
enough.

“As
loathsome as the Gloom was, it was our protector,” he began, his voice
straining.

Protector? What does he mean protector? How can something so
harmful be our protector?
she thought angrily.
She was annoyed they were even entertaining Iskandar’s drivel. Still she
refrained from interrupting him.

“There
are many Glooms,” Iskandar continued. “All as fearsome as the next. They thrive
on death and destruction. They devour the land around them, it gives them
power.” A coughing fit interrupted his speech. They had all drawn closer to
him, eager to hear what he had to say.

The
knights still maintained guard on their king, keeping their attention firmly on
the circling stones, but it was clear they too were listening to Iskandar.

“Centuries
ago, the Glooms found their way to Frindoth. The Order, far greater in number
back then, managed to intercept them as they came over the mountains, before
they ventured closer than the spot where we now stand. The Order defeated them
and closed the gateway to our realm.

“For
a while all was well. However, they soon grew hungry. They sought out Frindoth
again; somehow they found a way back. The first to emerge from the portal was a
creature known as Seter al Gul. He was far from the strongest Gloom but he was
the first through and by devouring the first humans he came across, he became
stronger than the starving others. The Order ...” Iskandar cried out as pain
lanced through his body. He arched his back as if another sword had pierced his
flesh.

Marybeth
looked at the stones; they fizzed against each other now, colliding in midair.
The high-pitched screeching sound began to grate on her ears. Iskandar motioned
for Mondorlous to help him sit up.

“The
Order struck a deal with Seter al Gul,” Iskandar began again. Every word was
spat out with great effort. “As long as the Order provided him with enough
human flesh to sustain himself, he promised to prevent the other Glooms from
entering Frindoth.”

“Hence
the Ritual,” Jacquard muttered. Iskandar nodded his assent.

“There
lies Seter al Gul,” Iskandar said.

Marybeth’s
mind raced. All this talk of other realms and the Gloom protecting them made
her head spin.
Could it be true?

“I
did not kill your father, Marybeth.” It took her a moment to realise Iskandar
was addressing her directly. “I was foolish enough to confide in him.
Unfortunately, he did not see the bigger picture and found the idea of the
Ritual intolerable. He wanted to slay Seter al Gul and then banish the other
Glooms from Frindoth forever. He could not see we were not powerful enough to
do such a thing. The Order was no longer the force it was centuries ago.”

“I
saw you two fighting. I saw you standing over his body.” Despite Iskandar’s
revelation, she refused to even contemplate her anger might have been misplaced
all of these years. Iskandar shook his head sadly.

“No,
he confronted me whilst drunk. I protected myself and tried to calm him down.
During the skirmish, he stumbled in his drunken state and fell on his own
knife. I tried to save him but it was beyond my power.”

A
tear rolled down her face. She wanted to refute the words, to find some way of
finding an inconsistency in them, but she knew they were true.
What have I
done?
As if reading her thoughts, Iskandar tried to comfort her.

“I
forgive you, child. You must lead the Order now. I have taught you well ... Mondorlous?”
The giant man answered his leader. “You must follow her. She may have been
misguided but she has the attributes.”

Marybeth
felt nothing but shame. Why had she been so blind? She had let her judgment be
clouded by the perfect image she had of her father. She recalled all the anger
she had been carrying around with her for so long, like some unborn demonic
child.

The
years of plotting against Iskandar, trying to earn his trust so she could get
close enough to destroy him. She needn’t have endured any of it, if she had
just stopped and asked Iskandar what had happened.

She
risked looking up, sure she would see the look of disgust on the faces of the
others. Instead they were all looking past her at the stones.

They
had now grouped together to form one big purple ball of rotating energy. With
no warning, the ball expanded, slowly spreading itself thin until it formed a
circular disc shape as tall as Mondorlous.

The
surface of the disc swirled and crackled, sparks flew off the edges. Marybeth
strained to see what lay inside, but the purple light swirled, it was like
looking at something whilst under murky water. From within, a hideous roar could
be heard. This was followed by another, and then another, until there was a
chorus of shrieks and wails. Sounds of dozens of hooves could be heard
galloping towards them. Despite the thunderous clamour, the ground did not
vibrate; the noise was clearly coming from another place.

BOOK: Ritual of the Stones (Ballad of Frindoth)
7.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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