CheapLit: Free ebook sample of "Wings and Claws" by Dallas Releford

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WINGS AND CLAWS

Chapter 1

It was told, and it has been written that in the days before Yuman’s became a species to be reckoned with—long be­fore they presented a dominating presence to other creatures of the great forests that covered the world they lived in—that trolls and dwarves dwelled in a land called Tharvia.

Tharvia was a beautiful land bordered on the North by great lakes and on the East by Yuman, a land where peaceful tribes lived in small villages. To the South was the land of the Vorgos, a swamp place where lizard people dwelled. To the West was Batavia, a territory where evil existed in the form of bat-like creatures who were dangerous and warlike.

Tharvia was bustling with life of every vari­ety. Fairies flew about on warm summer nights avoiding mischievous elves and goblins that wished to capture them. Keeping a Fairy in captivity would surely bring luck to those who had captured them. Fairies were ordained to be magical creatures that could grant wishes at the whim of their captors and so they were exceptionally valued, prized possessions. It was not only fairies that dwelled in the land of Tharvia. Elves, Gnomes and Pixies lived here too. Tharvia was a warm and pleasant land, most of the time.

Peace existed between the giants to the South in a land called Spartica and the smaller people of the North. It was not so with the Batavians. They did not get along with any of their neighbors. Despite all the good and beautiful things in this world, there were bad and evil things here too. The most evil creatures of all were the Batavians, a cruel and brutal race of dark creatures that showed little piety toward anyone. These gruesome beings were human-like with bat-shaped featherless wings, penetrating yellow eyes and long-clawed hands and feet. Their skin was as dark as the night. They were intelligent with the ability to construct great villages and the power to command other less fortunate folks to do their bidding. They built their kingdom on a foundation of slavery of other races and the sweat off the brow of thou­sands who suffered and perished under their iron hands with long sharp claws.

Their warriors’ rode on great black, winged horses that carried them into battle. They were so fearsome that few enemies stood before them for very long. Even though they were winged creatures themselves, they had discovered long ago that riding strong winged horses gave them several ad­vantages over their enemies. The horses were stronger and faster, and they presented a fearsome image when they at­tacked their foes. A bat with a sword held high mounted on a flying horse in­stilled sheer terror into the hearts of everyone that saw them. The winged horses with fiery red eyes were so powerful and scary they drove the ene­mies of the Bata­vians before them like flies from a storm. The horses could fly higher and maneuver better than the bats could when they flew alone. The place where the Batavians lived was called Batavia. The Batavians were ruled by the most evil of all, a vicious warlord named Jaron Len. The mention of his name caused most creatures to shudder with fear. His cruelty toward others was legendary. There were many varied descriptions of Jaron Len floating around. What you heard de­pended on who was telling the story. To someone that had been terrorized by his evil, Jaron Len was an incredible monster with fiery red eyes, wicked sharp horns and fire erupting from his nostrils. Someone who had only seen him passing by on his mighty steed might offer a completely differ­ent description of him. Most of the forest creatures told the same story about his brutality and his in­cessant quest for fortune and power. Most of the creatures were ready to agree that Jaron Len was evil to the core. Everyone knew someone that had felt his whip or had suffered at the hands of his sol­diers.

The land of the Yumans extended from the borders of Tharvia to the land of the gargoyles in the North and to the great ocean to the East that some said went on forever. Yu­mans lived in huts and wooden houses. They were timid and were only interested in hunting, harvesting and raising food. They were rarely considered a threat to anyone. When they did go to war, it was in their own defense or to assist their friends.

To the north of Yuman and to the East was the land of the gargoyles, a race that few knew much about. Yuman faced the Great Barren Plains of the gargoyles on the East and to the North. Great mountains separated the Yumans from the gargoyles. As long as the gargoyles didn’t intrude on the Yumans, they wisely ignored them.

Great endless forests covered the land. Near the great mountain named Barbir was a small Yuman village called Darmin where Tara Keene lived with her family. Tara was the oldest daughter of Marta and Juon Keene. She had two sisters, both of them almost as beautiful as she was. Their names were Lita and Serona. Tara was the most beautiful woman in the land, and the most feared.

The magic of the forest and of the great world on which she lived flowed through her veins. Tara was a sor­ceress. Some Yumans called her a witch. She was known throughout the land as a kind and gentle sorceress who was willing to help those in trouble. Still, many feared the pow­erful magic that she claimed as her own. Fearing her wrath, they accepted her and went about their business knowing that when they needed help, she was willing to provide it. Most of the Yumans, dwarfs and trolls were quite willing to overlook her strange, but welcome magic.

Tara had seen her twentieth year a couple of months ago. Her long silky, golden hair, the color of wheat, rested gently on her creamy white shoulders and her sky blue eyes sparkled in the early morning sun as she helped her sisters drive goats into a meadow where tall grass would keep them occupied for most of the day. Living outside the village of Darmin, they were grateful that they were free from the prying eyes of their neighbors. With the reputation of a witch—albeit a good one—Tara knew she had to be ex­tremely careful about what she said and did. The last thing she needed was a disgruntled enemy. Doing the wrong thing might turn her people against her. Even though most people in the village and the surrounding area loved and respected her, there were those who feared her. They who possessed fear were the most dangerous of all. Fear, she knew, caused good people to do many bad things.

Only Tara knew the extent of her powers although she did not thoroughly understand them. She was aware that she had to be constantly on guard not only for herself, but for her family as well.

The world was as beautiful as it was violent and she knew there were those who would love to get their hands on her, and in doing so, control the only obstacle between them and enslavement of the Yuman’s of which she was a mem­ber. It was fear of her magic that had kept the bats from invading her land until now. She often wondered how long it would be until the bats summoned up enough courage to invade and kill.

The Yuman’s were not an organized people, at least not yet anyway. They lived in small, but comfortable vil­lages where they raised cattle, sheep and hogs for food and clothes. Gardens and crops provided them with food in the summer. Some of it was processed and stored where it would be used during bitter cold winters. They hunted little preferring to leave the animals alone as much as possible. They were content and happy although life sometimes was rough, especially when bitter cold winters threatened their existence or howling winds carried their villages away. Still, they managed to survive and to thrive in a beautiful land they were happy to inhabit.

Erin Cla was the most handsome warrior in the village of Darmin. Darmin was located in Yu­man close to the Thar­vian border. Even the village council looked to him when danger threatened. The women of the village adored him and many beautiful maidens went to bed every night dreaming of his long dark hair, deep gray eyes and his muscular body. Erin’s heart longed for one maiden only except Tara Keene had seemed disinterested in him lately. Perhaps she was simply playing her girlish games. Still, he knew he would never give up until she finally belonged to him. He could see the spark of love in her eyes every time he looked at her. It was up to him to extract that spark and encourage her to nurture it until she loved him as much as he loved her. He knew Tara loved him. She had said as much and had never denied it.

Tara lived on a small farm only a few miles from where Erin dwelled with his mother, a younger brother, much younger than he was, and two beautiful sisters. He was content with his life as a farmer. Nonetheless, he knew that he would be happier with Tara by his side, except his people expected so much of him. He’d been busy lately taking care of matters for the village elders and hadn’t seen Tara for several weeks. Maybe when his work for the day was over, he’d wander over to her farm and have a talk with her. He’d explain how things were and she would understand. Kissing her inviting soft lips and caressing her in the right places had always worked. If words failed, he would surely have a chance to explain things to her with his hands and lips, if not with words from his heart and mouth.

He thought about the Yuman situation trying to get Tara off his mind for a little while, a feat that he’d found almost impossible lately. Scouts had been warning him that something was up to the west. Bats were seen more fre­quently now flying over Yuman and they’d even been seen in the high mountains to the east. One thought disturbed him greatly. Even with all the Yuman war­riors gathered in one place, an event that was rare, they were almost defenseless against the Bata­vians.

So far, Batavian raids had been sporadic. They would appear in a village, capture a few Yumans and then they were gone on their great black horses before Yuman warri­ors could give chase. Their black poisoned tipped arrows usually left many dead and wounded. Thinking about the raids caused rage to build up in him and he wanted to do something about it, but what?

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That was the way her world was on that beautiful spring day as she and her sisters sat in the shade of a giant oak watching the goats and sheep graze. Lita and Serona spoke softly as a warm breeze ca­ressed their lovely faces and birds nearly sang them to sleep. Tara picked wildflowers to take home to her mother. Her mother loved beautiful things, especially flowers, as much as Tara. As she searched for the most beautiful flowers, she occa­sionally glanced at her sisters feeling grateful to have them as sisters although they some­times an­gered her with their antics. Lita had red hair, beauti­ful green eyes and a temper that was as fiery as her hair. She often argued with Serona and sometimes with Tara. Tara tried to remember if she had been as rebellious as Lita when she was sixteen years old. Tara understood her problem. Lita needed a good man to give her the direction and love that would make her a woman. Except, Lita still had not taken the first step to find some­one who would love her. Tara shook her head in disappointment and continued collecting flowers. Serona was the youngest and the quietest. There was always conflict between the two sisters, Tara realized as she found a bunch of beautiful purple flowers with yellow centers. Her mother would be pleased. Serona’s hair was almost the color of the yellow flower and her eyes were as blue as an au­tumn sky. Despite their differences, Tara knew she loved her sisters and would do anything for them. They were family.

Lita walked over to where Tara was engaged in a conver­sation with a small fairy that was sitting on a flower Tara wanted to add to her collec­tion. The fairy would not budge so Tara decided that the flower wasn’t worth the argument. After all, there were thousands of flowers in the meadow, let the fairy have it. They all looked pretty much the same, didn’t they?

Lita was silent for a moment and then she spoke softly as if her words might anger her older sister. “You don’t speak much of Erin. Don’t you like him as you used to? Do you not trust him?”

“Trust has little to do with it.” Tara was slightly an­noyed with Lita for bringing up the subject. “I have respon­sibilities to our people and to my family. Only I know the source of my power. I cannot risk falling in love and jeopardizing our safety, not even when that lover is as handsome as Erin Cla.”

“So, you think that love will distract you and you might give your secret away, is that what you are thinking, sister?”

Tara listened at the sounds of the forest, the little gur­gling brook nearby, the chattering of the squirrels and the songs of birds and wondered what life would be like without them. She knew that eyes were always watching them from the forest and ears were always listening. Somewhere, not too far away she could hear the high-pitched voices of fairies and the growling of agitated trolls. Weren’t they always an­gry about something? Thinking she had enough flowers, at least for now, she sat down on a log and sighed. Bare­foot, she moved her toes through cool blades of grass under her feet. The little fairy had moved on to another flower, a larger one that she seemed to adore. “Love is a distracting thing.” She had to admit that Erin Cla was the most wonderful man she had met. That had been somewhat distracting to her. She was constantly thinking about him, even now. “That isn’t the only reason for my hesitation, though. The council wants Erin to become King Cla and rule over Darmin. Some day he’ll be ruler over all the villages. I would be his queen, should I choose to do so. That arrangement would put an end to my freedom that I enjoy so much. I love the forest, being with my family and protecting everyone. If I were Queen Tara Keene my freedom might be forced away from me. No, I enjoy my freedom too much to make such a choice.”

Lita shook her head in disagreement. Couldn’t Tara see the real truth? “I don’t think so.” She paused and studied Tara’s beautiful face. The little fairy was hovering near them fussing at them, perhaps hoping they’d go away and leave her flowers alone. “Your powers depend on a stone that fell from the sky. You told me so and swore me to se­crecy. How could that be true if you possess the stone? Only you know where it is. Right?”

“Love is powerful.” Tara expressed herself with a straight face and her head held high. “What would happen if I told Erin about the whereabouts of the stone while under the spell of love?”

“You talk as if he has magic too.” Lita had heard ru­mors that Erin Cla had magic almost as powerful as Tara, except she had never seen him make dragons appear or make mountains belch fire.

“Oh, yes.” Tara said the words with pride with­out sounding like she was boasting of her knowledge. “Haven’t you felt it when he looks at you with those wonderful eyes?”

“Maybe so,” Lita admitted. “I’m two years younger than you, Tara. I know you have first choice with Erin. You will be twenty-one next fall so do not tarry too long. Many other hearts long for the one you are willing to let suffer and float away from you like smoke from a chimney. Don’t wait too long to make up your mind.”

Most of what Lita said was true and Tara knew it. Most of the girls in the village and sur­rounding areas were married by the time they’d seen their sixteenth year. Serona was al­ready six­teen and had a young suitor wanting her to marry him. Lita was waiting for the right one to come along. Tara had already found the one she loved. She was waiting for him to carry her away on a white horse except her responsi­bilities to her peo­ple had kept her from telling him why she didn’t want to marry him. She knew the terrible truth was that she would soon have to forget about other people and think of her own future. If she didn’t marry Erin Cla soon someone else would take him away from her. “You speak well and truthful, little sister. Perhaps I should give the mat­ter more thought.” Tara made the confession knowing that showing any sign of weakness or indifference on her part would leave the door wide open for Lita and others to con­verge on Erin Cla like bees after clover blossoms.

“Perhaps you should, consider it some more.” Lita gave her advice willingly because she truly loved her sister. No man would ever come between them. “Some other fair maidens aren’t as honest as I. Perhaps you should take action as quickly as possible.”

Before Tara could respond she felt a cold chill drift down her spine and her blood felt chilled as well. They were more than five miles from the village, alone, except for the sheep and the animals in the forest. Something was terribly wrong. Her senses could detect that the character of the for­est had changed suddenly. The friendliness it usually offered was now gone. Creatures of vary­ing sizes and shapes were now as quiet as the stones beneath her feet. Tara had noticed the si­lence in the woods earlier. She had been so con­sumed with thoughts and stimulating images of Erin Cla that she had ignored the warning. Now, she wished she had been more attentive.

Lita grabbed her arm. Two sisters stared at each other wondering what was causing them such duress. Sensing danger, Tara dropped the bouquet of flowers. Grabbing Lita’s arm she pulled her toward the shade of the oak tree where Serona sat watching them, wondering why they seemed alarmed.

They heard something, or somebody rustling bushes nearby. They were alarmed and afraid that an evil warlock was near them. Evil spirits visited the forest all the time looking for fair maidens to capture. Many said the spirits belonged to the warlocks who sold the girls to the bats. They could not smell it and that further caused them concern. Normally a warlock could be detected by its pungent odor. When they turned their attention in the direction of the noise, they were relieved to see a dwarf staring at them.

“Eminus Vokal.” Tara hadn’t seen the dwarf for a long time. Why was he here now? “What are you doing here? Why are you breathing so hard? Are you ill?”

“I r-ran a l-long way.” He was almost whis­pering. His voice was hoarse and his breathing was labored. “The Bata­vians are coming. They plan to a-attack . . . your village and take hostages. They are looking for you, Tara. You must hide, and very quickly.”

Vokal was less than four feet tall with long peaked ears, large blue eyes and a long nose. Any other time, Tara would have told him how cute he was, except his words had sunk deep into her heart and mind. “They have never at­tacked our village. Never. Why now?”

“They seek your magic. The Emperor Jaron Len has sent an entire army to find you and to bring you back to his palace.”

“We must hide, but where?” Sarona looked at Tara and then at Vokal. “They must be everywhere by now.”

“I will not hide while my family is in danger because of me. I will stand and—”

“Look.” Lita screamed before Vokal could slap his hand over her mouth. She pointed to the sky as a dark cloud blotted out the sun. “Clouds and they’re moving fast.”

“It’s not a cloud.” Tara warned them knowing exactly what they were seeing. She had seen the ominous clouds before. “Batavians, thousands of them are coming for me.”

The situation seemed hopeless. There were too many of them, even for her powerful magic.

1

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Chapter 2

Tara shivered as she watched the dark horde ap­proach them. They were still under the giant oak. She was sure they hadn’t been spotted yet although such a thing wasn’t entirely im­possible. These creatures were able to send out some kind of wave that bounced back letting them know what was in their path. Their eyesight was such that they could see a mouse in a meadow from half-a-mile high.

She never understood why they rode horses when they themselves could fly. Was it because they loved being able to control the monstrous beasts? Or was it because the horses could move faster and quicker than the bats could?

Reacting quickly would save lives, except everything had happened so suddenly Tara barely had time to think, yet she knew she had to come up with something, and very soon. Should she try to warn the villagers or should she at­tempt to use her powers—which didn’t seem to work right all of the time—to save her sisters and the others?

Eminus stood looking at the advancing multitude know­ing death was descending upon them. “Better do magic soon.” His voice quivered from fear that came with the knowledge of how treach­erous and vile the Batavians were. Their cruelties were known far and wide. He wondered if even the great sorceress, Tara Keene would be able to pro­tect him from them. “Better do magic soon.” His second declaration was a desperate one. “Anytime now will do, Tara.” Eminus Vokal knew she had the magic, except he wasn’t certain Tara knew how to use its full power. His words were meant to encourage her, nonetheless, he felt as if he had failed in that endeavor.

“Of course,” Tara said. “Eminus, you go warn the villag­ers and my family. They will know what to do. I doubt if I can stop all of the bats. Nevertheless, I shall try.”

“You are not alone.” Eminus spoke slowly so she would know that his words were the truth and she would not have any trouble understanding his babbling. “I have over five hundred dwarves and trolls here. More will come when they hear of this deceitful invasion. We fight and so will other creatures of the forest.”

Tara felt relieved because she would have help against the Batavians. As Eminus rushed away to warn the villagers, Tara closed her mind and focused on the large meadow in front of her. In her mind, the only thing she saw were large blades of grass. Concentrating, she transformed the blades of grass into long green arrows that erupted from the ground by the thousands. The arrows, now as solid as any arrow, flew through the air toward the dark figures high above.

Tara didn’t wait for the arrows to find their targets, instead she ran to the small stream where boulders protruded out of shallow, green water and rocks littered the banks of the creek.

Using her hands, as well as her mind, she focused on the large boulders. Previously, she had been able to move smaller stones and propel them through the air, except these stones were much larger than the ones she had moved be­fore. Confident she could do it, she began focusing on one boulder at a time until they were catapulted toward the bats. The evil bats were now falling from the sky like flies.

The boulders and small stones moved upward with the speed of a hawk. As many of the Batavians fell from the sky on their huge mounts, a few managed to free themselves from their dead horses as they plummeted and flapping their wings, some of them remained airborne.

From the shadows of the forest dwarfs, trolls and other creatures emerged shooting small, but effective arrows at the winged invaders. The trolls and dwarves worked like a trained army. They appeared from the cover of the forest only long enough to fire a volley of death at the enemy and then disappeared into the shadows again.

As more winged creatures fell to the ground, some in­jured, some dead, hundreds of trolls materialized from tall grass with sharp knives and slashed their throats. They came from old rotten, hollow logs, from trees above and from bushes, did their grisly jobs and vanished as if they had never been there at all.

Now hiding behind the oak tree, Lita and Serona watched spellbound as Tara performed her magic with great effort and expertise. Even though her magic arrows and stones had brought hundreds of the enemy to the ground, the sky was still darkened with them.

Tara sighed and wondered what she could do next. She had to find a safe place where she could hide her sisters. The Batavians must never capture them. Their fate would be worse than the darkness of death. She didn’t have the slight­est idea where that hiding place would be. The bats were now everywhere. The meadow and surrounding forest was full of dead and dying creatures. Finding a safe place would be difficult. They were almost surrounded and her life had never been this perilous before. Where was Erin Cla? Was he okay?

Tara had heard tales about the bats since she was a kid. Everyone knew of their evil and their disregard for others, however, she was about to learn something else about them, a secret that had only been whispered in the quietist of ways for a long time. It was something parents had used to scare their children into obedience. How many times had her mother, or father warned her that if she didn’t go to bed and go to sleep that the bats would come for her and suck all her blood? Too many times, she remembered. The terror of the scene around her catapulted her thoughts from Erin Cla to two bats in particular. They were on the edge of the meadow near the woods. Three trolls were parrying with them, slashing at their legs and arms with small swords while try­ing to bring them down where they could kill them. The bats were much taller and unquestionably superior to the trolls. However, the trolls didn’t have any choice in the matter, they had to kill the bats, or die trying. While Tara watched, the bats lunged forward and the battle was over. Tara was sure that they would move on to other trolls and dwarves, or maybe even come her way. The death of the trolls caused sadness and pain in her heart. It was becoming a familiar feeling. The bats knelt beside the trolls and one of them reached down and pulled the dead troll up in front of its face. Opening its mouth wide, exposing its sharp teeth, it sunk its fangs into the neck of the dead troll. Tara gasped as it be­came difficult to breathe. With a lump in her throat, she knew that everything she had heard about them was true. They did suck blood from their victim’s. Was that why they were so deadly? Were the forest creatures a source of food for them? Tara could hardly believe what she was seeing. Attempting to summon up more courage, she turned away from the scene knowing she could do nothing to help the trolls. They were be­yond help. Turning her attention to the battle go­ing on all around her, she wanted to scream, except the knot in her throat would not allow it.

Two dwarves were running from body to body killing any of the bats that might still be alive. Tara let her eyes wander taking in the sick­ening sight and the smell of death. A few of the Batavians had fallen into trees where they were caught in the limbs. Brave trolls climbed trees with sharp knives clenched between their teeth. They had learned the lesson well that Tara had taught them, kill every Batavian until none of them are left. It was a harsh, cruel lesson ex­cept Tara knew they would see no mercy from the Bata­vians.

She closed her eyes hoping things would be as they had been when she opened them again ex­cept the sounds of the living nightmare did not go away. She opened her eyes and knew she had work to do.

Tara stood alone in the open meadow. The sunlight was finally finding its way through the exodus of evil as many of them fell to the ground and perished. With rays of sunlight striking her fair skin Tara appeared to be the magi­cal creature that she was. Her blonde hair was radiant and her eyes glimmered. Many dwarves and elves stopped what they were doing and were awed by her beauty. She was truly a goddess.

Surveying the battleground Tara knew she could not fight them all. In the distance where the forest was the thick­est, she heard the sounds of battle and knew her village was under attack.

Many of the Batavians had discovered the large meadow and were diving down from the sky like maggots falling from a rotting carcass. A battle line was slowly forming at the other side of the forest. In less time than it would take for her to think about it, they would attack. Al­ready, close to a hundred dark winged warriors sat astride gigantic, well-muscled black horses with their long broad­swords raised above their heads. The fright­ening sight al­most paralyzed Tara’s mind. That long line of muscled death would come for her at any time.

Wondering what to do, a thought, a vague memory trickled through her mind. Once, her mother had warned her about building a fire around certain kinds of stones because they would explode. The idea that stones might explode seemed ridiculous then, until it actually happened.

As horror continued to sweep down from the sky above bringing with it fear and death, Tara realized that the creek was full of such stones.

As more Batavians formed a battle line that was begin­ning to look ominous and threatening, Tara ran toward the creek barely avoiding capture twice as two dark warriors appeared from tall grass with gleaming swords in their hands.

Stooping, she grabbed a stone and hurled it at the head of the first creature. He attempted to step aside. The rock hit the side of his head and sent him reeling like a willow tree in the wind. Stumbling backwards, he screamed his war cry one last time. Dropping his sword, the Batavian shrieked in pain and blindly fell to the ground, dead. Tara leaped toward the sword knowing death was rushing to her. Quickly, she grasped it in both hands and assured herself that she could do it, that the magic would help her when she truly needed it as it had done many times before. The other war­rior, as big and as repulsive as the one she had killed, looked at her with a snarl on his dark lips. The bat was clearly angry with her because she had killed his companion. Hearing his breathing and his grunts of anger—typical behavior of bats when they were about to attack—she retrieved the heavy sword, jumped to her feet and stood facing him.

This was the first time she had seen one of the crea­tures so close to her and for a moment, she was frozen in fear. A metal helmet covered his head. His long peaked ears extended out openings in the helmet. One of them flopped in the wind like an old rag. A face shield covered everything except his yellow eyes and his mouth where sharp teeth showed. A few of the bats had gray eyes while most of them were yellow like the strange fox-like creatures that roamed the forests and relentlessly attacked the trolls and other small crea­tures. This bat was much more dangerous than a hyana.

Tara knew she could not match the strength of a crea­ture six feet tall. It was said that the Batavians were three times as strong as Yuman’s. She was a Yuman. He raised his sword and stepped forward. She hoisted the heavy weapon as best as she could and took a couple steps backward. It was all she could do to lift the sword much less swing it in com­bat. Magic was out of the question. She needed time to think and to conjure up some­thing that would be able to defeat these creatures.

“Surrender and be my slave.” The creature stood before her demanding her complete submission as he inched closer step-by-step. “I might let you live a long life.” He leaned forward and thrust the blade at her. When she grimaced, he threw his head back and laughed knowing that she was as helpless as she looked. The sound of his laughter echoed across the glade and then from the forest. Taunting her, he thought he could draw her close enough to capture her. She knew that if she were captured, her life would be one of ser­vitude to their emperor, Jaron Len. That did not appeal to her at all.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that the battle lines were almost solid all the way from one end of the glade to the other end where it joined the forest. This was the typi­cal scheme of the Batavians and she knew it. She had heard from some of those who had experienced it that the ground force would slowly move forward destroying eve­rything in their path while other warriors flew overhead swooping down to support the ground forces when something ham­pered their progres­sion. Attacked from air and from the ground, most victims were helpless. She had to free herself be­fore the invaders could begin their advance. Once begun, it would spread out until every village in the area was de­stroyed and the inhabitants killed or enslaved. The trolls and dwarves were putting up a good fight, nonetheless, they were being mowed down like wheat in a field. Her heart sank as she thought about all her friends that were dy­ing and she was helpless to save them.

Thinking about the curious stone that gave her and anyone else that touched it strange powers, she wondered if it were truly safe from the invaders. If the stone fell into the wrong hands her en­tire race would be wiped out, or en­slaved. Its powers had never failed her except she’d never been challenged to use the powers of the stone on such a large scale. Could she figure out how to use those powers now when she needed them the most?

The bat lunged forward and Tara stepped aside quickly. Amazed at her agility he stood staring at her and his brief hesitation was all she needed.

She knew that the small creatures of the for­est, elves, dwarfs and trolls were defending their lands and homes with an embittered enthusiasm that was showing remarkable re­sults. She must do her share too. Tara saw the opportunity to get rid of the beast that was getting ready to attack her again. The grounds around her were littered with hundreds of dead and dying bodies. Focusing on a bat lying behind the invader Tara sent mental commands to its dying brain. Slowly, it stood erect as lifeless as it had ever been. Feeling a powerful force flowing through her—the force that every living thing was part of—she knew it was time to act. With little effort Tara directed the force into the Batavian zombie. He hap­hazardly leaned forward and retrieved a discarded sword. Stepping over dead bodies he came toward Tara and the menacing warrior standing in front of her.

Tara lowered her sword hoping to distract the warrior.

The warrior, interpreting her action as one of surrender, raised his sword high above his head casting it toward the heavens as a symbol of victory over an enemy. When his eyes rested on her, she smiled and pointed toward the zom­bie moving toward him with lifeless eyes and death held in its hand.

Not fully trusting Tara, confused, the creature turned its head around enough to see danger approaching. Control­ling the zombie with her mind, Tara saw her chance and took it. When the bat raised his sword to defend himself with his back to her, she used all her strength to swing the mighty sword in a wide arc. She wanted to scream when his head fell at her feet. Tiny cubes of ice trickled down her spine. Tara had killed and the feeling mesmerized her. It was a feeling she would never forget and one she would repeat many times in her life.

Stunned, yet happy she had been victorious, Tara turned her head toward the trees where she had left her two sisters in the care of the trolls. Her sisters stood in the shade of the giant oaks with dozens of armed trolls protecting them. A great cheer went up from hundreds of forest dwell­ers. Wondering what it was all about, she recalled that they saw her as their protector. She was fighting for them as well as herself.

Tara quickly regained control of her emo­tions. Piety and remorse could be confronted later. Right now, she had a war to win. The battle had begun, now she had to end it and send these in­vaders to the dark place where they couldn’t harm anyone again.

As she ran toward the creek with a plan in mind she wondered if Erin Cla would be able to rally enough of the villagers and little people to drive the invaders away. If not, they all would perish at the hands of the Batavians.

Standing on the bank of the creek as the sounds of death and destruction erupted all around her, she looked at the round stones her mother had warned her to avoid. Drawing the force into her body until she felt it was strong enough, Tara focused it on the stones in the cool, rushing water.

The water began to bubble and steam arose into the air as the stones heated. When she thought they were hot enough, she watched as they obeyed her command and floated in the air like small balls. The stones, or most of them, were as huge as a Yuman’s head. As they moved across the sky like a flock of birds she willed them to be hotter until they glowed.

Villard Kan, one of the trolls, a self proclaimed leader of his people had done an excellent job of organizing the little people into an army. With small bows and arrows, spears and clubs they stood in a long line ready to resist the ad­vancing horde.

Above, the sky was still filled with thousands of bats riding devilish black horses with fiery red eyes.

Tara felt great sorrow for the forest people and her own people as well. The bravery and fierceness of the trolls and dwarves was legendary. Even so, they would not have much of a chance against the Batavians, unless she could conjure up a miracle with her magic

As the stones arose into the air and gained momentum, she concentrated on making them hotter. She knew her tim­ing had to be just right or nothing worthwhile would happen. When the stones were over the long lines of mounted warriors, she dispersed them into their midst. Some of the stones exploded near the invaders knocking them from their horses while others exploded on contact with the ground sending up giant clouds of dirt and rocks that came down on the bats with a ferocity unseen in their time.

Seizing the opportunity and taking advantage of the element of surprise, Villard Kan led his warriors forward facing certain death with a smile. Tara gasped and wondered if any of them would live to see the sun set.

2

* * * * *

Chapter 3

Daref Mone soared high above Tharvia in his cloud ship that was pulled swiftly by two enormous eagles. The ship, constructed of strong wood and deerskin resembled a huge white bird. Teth­ered to two eagles by long leather straps, the ship sailed across the skies as if it went under its own power. Some people claimed it did so and that it was a magic ship. Only he knew the real truth about how the ship was able to fly. Daref Mone always laughed at them.

Daref knew the truth of the matter was that without the birds, he would still be sitting on the ground wishing he could fly. The beautiful land of Tharvia was spread out be­fore him. To the west was Batavia, the home of the ferocious Bat-People, as his kin called them. He was a troll and his people had many names for the Batavians and most of them were not good. If he turned the great eagles to the right and flew over Tharvia far enough, he would fly south over the land of the giants. He had little desire to bicker with them today. Keeping his present course, he would soon reach the land of the Yumans that stretched from Tharvia to the great body of water to the east.

He had just crossed over the Arial Mountains that di­vided the land of the bats and Tharvia. He had been spying on the Batavians for three days and his urgency to reach Yuman and speak with Erin Cla was quite understandable and justified. Who knows, they could already be under at­tack, he figured with a worried look on his face. He wanted to push the eagles faster, except to do so might wear them out before they reached their destination. That would not be good.

As the great ship glided along passing through puffy white clouds, Daref settled down in his favorite chair with his elbow resting on the rail that surrounded the luxurious ship. From the Arial Mountains in the west to the country of Yuman, Tharvia spread out like a beautiful blanket.

The tall mountains of Arial had always protected them from invasion by the deadly Batavians. The mountains were so high and the range so wide the bats could not walk through nor could they fly over them. The oxygen at the top of the mountains was nearly nonexistent. Even the dark horses, as powerful as they were, could not stay aloft with­out fresh air for very long. The only other way the bats could access Tharvia was from the south where the mountain range disappeared into the country of Spartica. The giants in that country hated the bats. They killed every bat they could find, even the small ones.

A few weeks ago, the bats discovered a nar­row passage through the mountains. The existence of this passage had only been known to a few of the trolls and a couple of dwarf leaders. For hun­dreds of years, the trolls had used the pas­sage to spy on the bats. Alarmed when the bats became a major threat to them King Villard Kan, the troll king had sent Daref to scout the area and warn them when the bats crossed over the mountains.

He watched for several days soaring high above the clouds only landing long enough to gather food and take on water. It was during one of these excursions to the ground that he observed several hundred mounted bats exit from the pass and gather in the nearby forest. He didn’t know how many were already there in the forest, except he knew it wouldn’t be long until there were thousands. When they were strong enough they would attack. Some would sweep across the land killing everything in front of them while a mass of warri­ors supported the ground troops from the air.

Fearing for his life, he had sailed north for a while be­fore turning east again hoping to avoid them. He knew he had to beat them home so he could warn the king they were coming. Tharvia was a most beautiful place with long, green meadows, bountiful forests and many winding rivers. The Gracian River flowed all the way from the Great North through the mountains and passed through Tharvia and Yu­man on it way to the Great Ocean to the east of Yuman. That river was below him now and he followed it knowing it would lead him to Elmira, the mystical city of the Little People in the land of Tharvia.

Already he could see the distant, tall snow covered peak of Barbir Mountain. Elmira was located only a few miles southwest of the towering mountain that everyone loved.

With all the beauty in his wonderful land it was easy for him to understand why the Batavians wanted it. None­theless, it was difficult for him to figure out how anyone so bloodthirsty could appreciate beauty. Daref knew why they wanted all of the land including Spartica, Tharvia and Yuman. They would not appreciate the beauty of these great places. They wanted to kill everyone and enslave those they could find a use for. There was something else in Yuman they wanted, something shared and protected by the Little People and the Yumans. They wanted Tara Keene and the Golden Stone.

Daref shook his head and knew that the Batavians must never be allowed to carry out their plans. Not even the Little People had knowledge of where the stone was hidden. Tara knew and that was why he had to warn her that they were coming. She would be the first one they would capture and torture until she revealed the location of the stone.

Daref had heard much about the great stone and leg­ends were many about the young maiden who had seen it fall from the sky on a cold winter night. She had touched it. When she felt its power and marveled at its beauty, she took it to a faraway place and hid it. Daref had heard that Villard Kan knew where it was and that a select few of the dwarves and trolls guarded it day and night.

Tara had told one of the dwarfs that the precious stone was larger than a Yuman’s head and that it was of solid gold. He wondered if the Bata­vians knew where the stone was already. Were they invading because they knew or were they sure they could find Tara Keene and get answers from her.

He knew few answers to many questions and that both­ered him. The sun warmed his dark face and he grew tired. His large gray eyes felt heavy. The hair on his face and arms tingled when he thought of the power yielded by the Bata­vians. Watching the clouds roll by made him drowsy and high above the ground, secure in his chair he drifted off into slumber. When a noise woke him, he was surrounded by hundreds of mounted, fierce Batavian warriors.

3

* * * * *

Chapter 4

Villard Kan stood behind his first line of defense and hoped they could keep the invaders stalled in the woods where his warriors would kill them off a few dozen at a time. Dwarfs, trolls and gnomes stood in front of him firing poisoned ar­rows at the advancing bats. Nothing seemed to slow them down. The scene in front of him was mesmerizing and terri­fying. The bats had formed a long line at the edge of the forest facing the meadow. Hundreds of bats mounted on winged horses flew above the bats on the ground firing ra­zor sharp arrows down on the trolls and dwarves. Trolls and dwarves in those days stood almost four feet tall on average. Their small size made them more difficult targets. Regard­less, the bats managed to hit many of them. Villard Kan knew that traditional methods of warfare would not work in a campaign against the warlike bats. He had to come up with something else.

A mile behind him was two more lines of brave, fear­less warriors that would confront the enemy if the first line broke. Each line was seven miles long. He wondered if even that would be enough. He envisioned an army of trolls, dwarves, pixies and demons standing together against one of the most feared races on their world. Trolls and dwarves sometimes disagreed with each other, except they rarely fought over anything. The dwarves were just happy to have such a beautiful place to live. The demons were a different matter for they usually weren’t too bright and tended to pick a fight when they weren’t happy with themselves or some­one else. Now, they were a wel­come addition to the army that stood alone against the bats.

He’d sent messengers to all the larger villages in Yu­man warning Yuman’s that his army were under attack and desperately needed help. So far, they stood alone against creatures twice their size and three times as strong. Despite their size, the trolls and the dwarfs were vicious fighters us­ing combat techniques they had used hundreds of years ago, against each other.

Trolls dropped from high up in trees with sharp knives clutched in their hands. Landing on the backs of the mighty horses they slashed the bat’s throats before they could react and then jumped to another horse and rider only to repeat the process again. It normally took two trolls to defeat one bat warrior. The technique was to somehow get the Batavians off their horses and onto the ground where they could use the strategy more effectively. While one troll went in with his sword aimed high, the second troll rushed at the legs of the enemy cutting and slashing until the bat was down where they joined forces to cut the bats throat. The attack under those circumstances was usually successful.

The battle lines were set. Drums rattled up and down the line as Villard shouted orders for his second line of war­riors to stand ready to fight. Fighting was occurring all around them as the little people fought wherever they could. It was the clash between the two main forces that would de­termine who the victor would be and Villard knew it.

One of his aides brought his small pony so Villard could dash to wherever he was needed. With an entourage of officers following him he rode up and down the line shout­ing orders. There was but one remedy for the disease that faced him and he only knew one cure. At the top of his voice he gave the order to charge.

All along the line, the little people advanced cau­tiously. First one line and then the other moved forward to face certain death and torturous pain. A great roar, a com­munion of voices echoed from the forest as the little people yelled out their battle cries.

Villard sat on his pony watching events un­fold around him hoping that a miracle would hap­pen. As the two armies clashed, the sounds of bat­tle—of death and dying—sur­rounded him.

Vor Yez, his troll assistant, pulled his mount up beside Villard. “We’ll never hold them for long.” He yelled the words so Villard could hear him over the never ending noise of thousands of screaming voices. “They confront us from the ground and drop down on us from their horses while we stand on the ground. They have all the advantages.”

“Tactics.” Villard yelled at the young officer. His booming voice was almost lost in the noise of the dead and dying. “It’s all about tactics. That first line there will delay them while our archers in the trees slay as many of them as possible. We will drop stones from the trees. See, it’s all happening now as we speak.” Villard pointed a hairy finger toward the battle.

“Have you heard anything from the Yumans? Has Erin Cla sent you a message?” Young Vor Yez was worried. Without support, it would be a short battle.

“Not a word.” General Villard Kan yelled loudly hop­ing Yez could hear him. “I sent out messengers. None of them have returned. Who knows what is going on between here and where the Yuman’s live.”

“That worries me,” Vor Yez replied. “We are extended in both directions almost eight miles. If Cla did raise an army, he may have engaged the enemy somewhere else along that line.” He pointed north where the line ended.

“I’m quite concerned about our center and both our flanks.” Villard Kan screamed over the battle sounds. As more officers joined them, Vor Yez looked at the general and pondered his statement. “What do you mean, General Kan?”

“Our center and flanks are vital areas. The enemy sol­diers extend far beyond our troops on both ends of our lines. They are stronger there. I believe the enemy will attempt to hold us here while they drive us back at each end of our lines, on our flanks, until we close on ourselves, like a circle. Once our flanks are contacting each other we’ll be com­pletely surrounded. They push at both ends of our flanks until we move back on both ends and close into a circle. It’s as simple as that.”

Another officer, Ro Dines spoke softly barely audible above the terrifying turmoil. “Can’t we do the same thing to them, sir?”

Villard Kan looked at the young troll officer with piety. He was always tolerant with his officers especially the ones who had not been battle hardened. Dines was clearly one who had not studied the situation, as he should have done. He was young experiencing war for the first time and he was to be commended for his valiant sugges­tion, except it would not work. “We’re not strong enough to drive them back. If we had enough sol­diers we could bring up a couple brigades and push their center back before they could attack our flanks. Then, we could split the bats into two sepa­rate units. We might destroy them then. However, we’ll be lucky if we can hold out much longer.”

“Maybe we can hold out.” Dines replied with a candor General Villard Kan appreciated in his officers. “I just came from behind our reserve forces. The Vorgos are willing to help. Commander Vion says he has twenty-eight thousand troops. They stretch out from end to end in a line eight miles long. He said to tell you that the bats extend even further than his own lines. Their numbers are overwhelming and fearsome.”

“Those Vorgos are excellent fighters,” young Vor Yez yelled, filled with excitement. “We need them up here right now.” Vor Yez had seen the Vorgo’s in action before during a campaign in the swamps when he was with General Kli a few years ago. The Vorgo’s were lizard-like people who lived in the swamplands to the southeast of Tharvia. General Kli had led fifty thousand trolls in an effort to drive the bats from the land of the Vorgos. The Vorgos had not forgotten the effort even though they had not completely succeeded in their endeavor. There were still a few bats in the swamp.

General Kan smiled and tried not to appear excited about the possibility of having more troops. Give him ten thousand Vorgos and he’d win the war, damned if he wouldn’t. “Great, go tell Commander Lias Vion to concen­trate his troops at both ends and don’t let them close our flanks on us.” General Kan had known Commander Lias Vion for several years and was proud to have known some­one with his intelligence and bravery. They had beome acquainted during the battle against the bats known as the Swamp War.

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