Prophecy Of Kings: Volume 1 ✔️

Chapter 11 - A Fight to the Death

The roar of war coming from the forest vanished as Athelstan and his party neared Dunalastair Castle and a new sound began to dominate the air. A metallic clatter interspersed with the fierce howls and hissing of fighting clansmen could be heard booming from the open windows of the towers like a demonic choir. Firmin gestured for the soldiers to split as they lined the castle wall on either side of the towering doorway. The soldiers drew their weapons and steeled their nerves in anxious anticipation. Suddenly the sound of distant hooves began to draw closer to the door, accompanied by the anguished yelps of an injured beast. Firmin set his ear to the cold wood.

Louder.

Louder still, until the noise resembled the thunderous charge of an advancing army.

An enormous figure burst through the door like a berserk Carlsyle bull, sending fragments of wood and steel out into the night. Tormod, the Great Stag had emerged, violently whipping his head to remove the pulverised remains of the wolf he had used as a battering ram. He did not even notice the soldiers pinned to the wall behind him as he bound into the deep forest. Not a moment had passed when the two Kerr Chieftains leapt through the scar left in the door by the stag in blind pursuit.

"HALT!" Athelstan screamed at the wolves. Consumed by the thrill of the hunt, Bocan continued the chase without hesitation. Droch stopped in his tracks and snarled at the King disapprovingly.

"Grr...the stag carries the wife and child of Duncan," he said through slobbering jaws. "We must feast on their flesh... grr."

"My Commander will go with you... the heir of Clan Donnachaidh cannot be allowed to escape." He looked in Firmin's direction, "Go with the wolf immediately... and bring me the head of his wife and child... the wolves can have the rest."

"NO," snapped the wolf. "Grr... he will only slow me down." Droch's eyes conveyed his hatred for Firmin, and his tone, the desperation to set off after the stag.

"THAT IS AN ORDER!" commanded Athelstan.

"Grr... So be it," said Droch impatiently.

Firmin jumped on the back of the wolf, grabbing onto its thick coat. Droch growled from the weight of the Knight, before springing into action. A trail of dust lingered in the air as the pair dissolved into the darkness quicker than an arrow piercing flesh.

The wolf relentlessly dashed through the trees, the scent of the stag painted an odorous misty trail through the forest for it to follow. Firmin despaired as they flashed by his soldiers, disarrayed and in desperate need of help. It was too late for many, the Lynx feasting on their warm corpses. He knew there was nothing he could do, gritting his teeth in an attempt to suppress his urge to protect the men he lead into battle.

A Donnachaidh Lynx sprung forth from the darkness to ambush the wolf without warning. Droch athletically jumped and twisted in the air, ejecting Firmin into the path of the oncoming attacker. They collided and rumbled to the root-infested ground, the Lynx quickly recovered and slashed maliciously at Firmin who was unresponsive.

Droch turned briefly and grinned revealing his maniacal fangs, "Grr... We'll be seeing you... Commander." He slipped away deeper into the woods, leaving Firmin to his fate.

*****

Athelstan and the Knights surged through the hole in the entranceway, following the noise to the great hall. Godwin, as Knight enforcer, leads the way in Firmin's absence. He held out his hand to halt the men as they drew close to the doors of the great hall.

Everything went silent.

The ringing of steel, the howling of wolves, the hissing of Lynx, nothing. Godwin pointed ahead with a trembling hand towards the three Kerr Clansmen hunched over and impaled in the oak door by an array of swords and spears. Blood poured from their wounds and flooded the floor below them. They cautiously entered the room to find the wolf Chieftan, Sgreuch and the Clan Chief of Donnachaidh, Duncan locked in a face-off. Brutalised Wolves and Lynx filled the spaces between the overturned tables, benches and ruined feast. Nothing was left unturned. No one was left alive.