A Vow of Glory

CHAPTER SEVEN

Erec sat on his horse, breathing hard, preparing himself to attack the two hundred soldiers facing him. He had fought valiantly and had managed to take down the first hundred—but now his shoulders were weak, his hands trembling. His mind was ready to fight forever—yet he did not know how long his body would follow. Still, he would fight with all he had, as he had done his whole life, and let the fates make the decision for him.

Erec screamed and kicked the unfamiliar horse which he had stolen from one of his opponents, and charged for the soldiers.

They charged back, matching his lone battle cry with theirs, fierce. Much blood had already been spilled on this field, and clearly no one was leaving without the other side dead.

As he charged, Erec removed a throwing knife from his belt, took aim, and threw it at the lead soldier before him. It was a perfect throw, lodging in his throat, and the soldier clutched his throat, dropping the reins, and fell from his horse. As Erec had hoped, he fell before the feet of the other horses, causing several to trip over him and sending them crashing to the ground.

Erec raised a javelin with one hand, a shield in the other, lowered his faceplate, and charged with all he had. He would charge this army as fast and hard as he could, take whatever blows he would, and cut a line right through it.

Erec screamed as he charged into the group. All his years of jousting had served him well, and he used the long javelin expertly to take out one soldier after the next, knocking them down like a row of dominoes. He tucked himself into a ball and with his other hand covered himself with the shield; he felt a rain of blows descend on him, on his shield, on his armor, from all directions. He was slammed by swords and axes and maces, a storm of metal, and Erec only prayed that his armor would hold. He clung to his javelin, taking out as many soldiers as he could as he charged, cutting a path through the huge group.

Erec didn’t slow, and after about a minute of riding, he finally broke out the other end, into the open, having cut a straight path of devastation right down the middle. He had taken out at least a dozen soldiers—but he had suffered for it. He breathed hard, his body aching, the clang of metal still ringing in his ears. He felt as if he had been put through a grinder. He looked down and saw he was covered in blood; luckily, he did not feel any major wounds. They seemed to be minor scratches and cuts.

Erec rode in a wide circle, looping back, preparing to face the army again. They, too, had turned around, preparing to charge him once more. Erec was proud of his victories thus far, but it was getting harder for him to catch his breath, and he knew that one more pass through this group might finish him off. Nonetheless, he readied himself to charge again, never willing to back away from a fight.

An unusual cry suddenly arose from the rear of the army, and Erec was at first confused to see a contingent of soldiers attacking the rear. But then he recognized the armor, and his heart soared: it was his close friend from the Silver, Brandt, along with the Duke and dozens of his men. Among them, Erec’s heart fell to see, was Alistair. He had asked her to stay in the safety of the castle, and she had not listened. For that, he loved her more than he could say.

The Duke’s men attacked the army from behind with a fierce battle cry, causing chaos. Half of the army turned to face them, and they met in a great clang of metal, Brandt leading the way with his two-handed ax. He swung at the lead soldier, chopping off his head, and swung his axe around in the same motion and lodged it another man’s chest.

Erec, inspired, got a second wind: he took advantage of the chaos and charged the other half of the army. As he galloped, he leaned over and snatched a spear protruding from the earth, leaned back and threw it with the force of ten men. The spear lodged through one soldier’s throat and continued going, lodging in the chest of another.

Erec then raised his sword high and brought it down on the first soldier he reached, chopping the shaft of his mace in half, then swinging around and chopping off the man’s head.

Erec continued fighting, throwing himself into the group of men with all of his remaining energy, thrusting, blocking, parrying, attacking all the soldiers who swarmed him from all sides. He alternately raised his shield, blocking blow after blow, and attacked; within moments, the soldiers were all converging around him, dozens of them, attacking him from every direction.

He killed more than he could count, but there were just too many of them, even with the Duke’s men preoccupying the rear flank. One of them slipped a blow of his mace past Erec, into his back, between his shoulder blades; Erec cried out in pain as the spiked metal ball landed on his spine. He fell from his horse, down to the ground, the impact winding him.

But he did not give up. His instincts kicked in and he had the presence of mind to roll immediately, raise his shield and block a blow descending for his head. Then he parried with his sword, severing the man’s arm.

A soldier aimed to trample Erec’s head, and Erec spun out of the way, swung around and chopped off the horse’s legs, sending its rider to the ground; Erec then rolled over and stabbed the man in the chest.

More and more men converged on Erec, and he rolled to his knees and blocked blow after blow, countering when he could as he was swarmed. His shoulders were weakening. A particularly large knight with a straight, long beard stepped forward and raised an axe high. Erec raised his shield to block it, but another soldier kicked it from his hand, and before he could react, a third soldier stepped on his chest, pinning him down. There were just too many of them, and Erec was too weary. There was nothing left he could do but watch as the huge knight began to swing down his axe.

Suddenly there came a great commotion, and Erec looked up to see Brandt arrive, raising his sword high with a fierce cry, swinging with all he had, and in a single blow chopping the shaft of the axe in half, and also chopping off the huge knight’s head.

There followed the Duke and several others, attacking all the soldiers around Erec, clearing a path to him. Erec spun, grabbed the soldier’s leg who was stepping on his chest, and yanked him down to the ground; he then rolled over and snapped the man’s neck with his bare hands.

Erec grabbed a dagger from the dead man’s waist, spun around, and stabbed another attacker in the side of the throat who had been swinging for him. He then gained his feet, grabbed his sword from the bloody battlefield, and got his third wind.

Erec swung in every direction, invigorated to fight with his friend Brandt at his side again, as they were reinforced by more of the Duke’s men. They soon cleared a path, together, killing the dozen men converging on them.

Erec found a horse and remounted, and was soon up there along with the others. He took stock of the situation: he had been joined by several dozen of the Duke’s men, and together, they faced what remained of the lord’s army, about a hundred men. He immediately searched for Alistair, and found her mounted on her Warkfin on the edge of the battlefield, watching over everything. She was safe from the battle, and Erec was relieved.

Erec breathed hard, Brandt beside him breathing just as hard, also covered in blood.

“I knew I would fight by your side again,” Brandt said. “I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”

Erec smiled.

“It seems I owe you my life once again,” he said.

“No you don’t,” Brandt said. “Remember Artania, ten years ago? Now we’re even.”

As they all prepared to charge against the hundred remaining men, suddenly, another cry arose from the rear of the group, and Erec turned in confusion, trying to process what was happening. He narrowed his eyes and in the distance, he thought he saw a battle occurring at the rear of the lines. He could not understand what was happening. Were the lord’s men fighting each other?

“More of your men?” Erec asked the Duke.

But the Duke shook his head, puzzled, too.

“My men are all with me. I do not know who attacks them.”

Erec was baffled as the army facing them broke out into chaos, and as the men began to turn and flee from the battlefield.

As the turmoil neared, Erec finally saw what it was. He was breathless at the site.

The lord’s army was being attacked from the rear by a huge group of creatures. They were twice as tall as any man, twice as broad, their skin a glowing yellow, each with two heads, and arms eight feet long. Erec recognized them at once. Covenies. They were fabled creatures, known to bear a superhuman strength that could tear a man in half with a single hand. They didn’t carry any weapons—they didn’t need to.

Despite himself, Erec’s heart flooded with fear.

“It’s not possible,” Brandt said. “Covenies only live on the far side of the Canyon. What are they doing here?”

“The only way they could be here is if they found a breach in the Canyon,” the Duke said.

“Or if the Shield is down,” Erec said gravely.

As Erec uttered the words he suddenly felt them to be true, and his heart flooded with true fear. The shield down. The Ring open for attack. It was more than he could process. He did not worry for himself, but for the fate of the Ring. If the shield was down here, it could be down all over the entire Ring. They could be overrun. And worse, the Empire could invade.

The army before Erec disbanded, fleeing for their lives as more and more Covenies appeared, attacking them from behind, picking them up with a single hand and biting off their heads.

“Retreat to Silesia!” the Duke commanded. “We must seal the gates at once!”

As one they all turned and charged from the battlefield; Erec stopped only long enough to ride up beside Alistair, mount Warkfin behind her, and take off with her. He felt her soft hands clutching him tightly from behind, and feeling her hands on him, knowing that they were together, that she was safe, made everything right in the world.

“I owe you my life,” Erec said to her, as they rode with the others.

“And I owe you mine,” she answered.