CHAPTER 15

CHAOS

It was three days later and Grusus was a bad memory now and Bron had fought his way up the ranks to become the new Zaran leader. It had been three long days of battle for power among the winged leadership before Bron and his forces had captured victory and consolidated leadership of the mighty horde.

Bron was a huge red-eyed winged creature who sat upon the gem-studded throne formerly occupied by Grusus, eyeing a prisoner being brought before him. He sat like a great gargoyle, ugly and dark, leather wings flapping with joy and delight at the helplessness of the green prisoner. Wine drooled down his thick beard as the terrified unfortunate was dragged forward to him in chains. Many of these green people were citizens of newly captured cities brought to the camp in the last couple of days. Others were from Tarcos itself, who in escaping the city thought they would be free of the Winged-men. They were not. It was said they had jumped from the boiling pot into the boiling kettle. This lone man was none of those however, he was a scout named Tam.

Along with Bron sat a dozen other winged creatures, these were the officers in his army and the nobles of his court, but there was also one mysterious man with blue hued skin whose gold collar denoted him as a nobleman and Vognar agent. He was the only such Blue to have escaped the attack on the camp by Jon Kirk and his Black Dragons three nights before. While Bron ruled now, he had not yet set the time of attack on Tarcos. So Jon Kirk’s actions had held off the attack for the time that was needed.

“Drag that green animal closer, Trul,” Bron shouted to his officer. “Let me get a good look at the savage.”

Quickly and with extreme roughness the prisoner was released from his chains and under heavy guard brought before Bron.

“Why do you stupid cattle refuse to surrender to us? You think you can stop us by murdering our leaders? That will not stop us, we will always have a new leader. We have held you green scum in thrall for a thousand years, since we first came to your stinking world, but now you have become belligerent and defiant. Tell me why?” Bron growled in rage.

“Jon Kirk shall beat you all in the end, then Ares shall be free of you winged monsters!” the green man shouted defiantly.

Bron shouted back, “Monsters! It is you who are the monsters, the vermin! And this bandit, Jon Kirk, he shall get what is due him shortly. He can not hold out against us, we have superior numbers, fresh troops under my command who have just come into the war from our home world of Zar. Very soon now our blue-skinned allies from the land across the Serpent Water—the Blues from the eastern continent called Vognar—shall arrive in great airships with a massive army to level your city and its stupid people with it. It will not be long now, and the Greens will be gone forever.”

Tam, the green Tarcos scout just stood his ground bravely, a contemptuous look upon his face for the bloody winged murderer before him. This is not what the winged leader expected. He wanted to see fear and terror. Not bravery and defiance. Patience and mercy were other qualities the Zarans neither possessed, nor understood.

“Speak!” Bron demanded in rage. He was one used to showing insolence but not one used to receiving it. Especially not from a mere green man.

The warrior prisoner remained silent, but his eyes burned with an intense hatred and fire for revenge. Tam was a scout and a proud warrior, and such a man never gave up any information to the enemy. He was ready to die. He knew what was to come. He welcomed death knowing that his mission had not been compromised. “Answer the leader, slave!” a winged officer barked at the green prisoner as he struck the man across the face drawing blood. At that point Tam boldly spit full into the face of the astonished Bron, then he laughed boldly. Now all there could see and hear his insult to their leader. It was something that must be answered and dealt with immediately.

The winged officer holding Tam turned pale at this dire affront to his much feared leader and master. However, it was Bron himself who flew into an insane and bloody rage. Instantly the winged leader drew his dagger and grasping the green man by the hair pulled his head back and promptly slit his throat. Then Bron sat back down upon his throne and looked upon the rest of his warriors with deadly malice.

“Remove this trash from my site!” Bron barked to his guards. Once Tam’s body had been taken away, Bron looked upon the winged officer who had allowed this terrible insult by the prisoner to his royal person. Bron was still burning with rage. He quickly drew his sword and lopped off that officer’s head and wings. It was three quick, clean blows and the officer’s head rolled away on the tent floor, the eyes looking with sad surprise at what had just happened.

“Remove this fool’s body from my presence!” Bron ordered another nervous Zaran officer. “Then put his head on a pike at the entrance to my tent to discourage other fools in my service from allowing their master such insult from any Green ever again.”

Slowly the procession of winged warriors filed out of Bron’s presence until the tent was empty, but for one other. All was quiet now as Bron sat in confidence with the blue skinned Vognar ambassador. They spoke in whispers about the coming attack on the city the next morning. Perhaps. The Blue was anxious and pressing Bron to attack right away, even today, but Bron wanted to bide his time. He was in no rush and wanted to consolidate his power as the new ruler. He also wanted the Blue air fleet to arrive so they could do most of the work for him to level the city.

* * * *

I knew our killing Grusus and his various lackeys would spread terror through the besieging horde surrounding the city of Tarcos. It gave hope to the green people and terror to the winged horde of invaders. The pressure upon Tarcos now was temporarily relieved to the point where Zaor and I could begin an even bolder attack on the invader’s camp. This would be the battle we had waited for. All I needed was to hear from Shamar and Aron with news that their flying ships had met and destroyed the Vognar airship fleet. That was the plan, but Zaor and I did not feel too confident of it. Nevertheless, the green people of Tarcos and every one of my Black Dragons were ready and out for blood and revenge. When the time came we would attack the unsuspecting enemy surrounding our city with a rage and anger that would put the enemy host into utter chaos.

I knew that even though the enemy had a new leader in the creature called Bron, it now appeared to me that my greatest fear had come true, the winged demons had been newly reinforced from their home world of Zar. This was terrible news. It was one reason why the enemy seemed so bold and over confident now. They not only had reinforcements, they had powerful allies from their home world, and even more allies in the Blues from Vognar. The way they saw the situation they could not lose this war, and they might be correct.

Perhaps I could make that confidence work to our advantage one more time? I knew the enemy now would never expect another attack from the Greens. I also new that sometimes the best strategy was to do exactly what your opponent never suspects. So I gave the order and our forces hit them hard in the early dawn, just as the red sun of Ares rose in the sky. It was apropos, for the blazing red sun would augment the blood drenched plains where the battle was to take place.

Our horde, lead by Zaor and myself, with a thousand Black Dragons cavalry in the vanguard hit the Zaran lines just before the Ares sun rose. It was begun in the eerie half-light before morning, when vision is suspect and shadows abound. It is a superstitious and unnerving time to be attacked. We hit them hard in the center of their line behind the city—but left the rest of their line intact— while my cavalry concentrated on running down the Zarans across their own line. Those that fought died. Those that took to flight were immediately taken down with arrows by our archers. The rest of their warriors around the city remained in position waiting for orders, while we massacred their brothers behind the city. Then we rode across the line to the front of the city as the enemy fled. Behind us were thousands of our auxiliary troops from Tarcos. They were angry and full of revenge and took it out on the enemy with devastating effect. The archers continued to inflict massive damage on any Winged-man who took to flight.

The Zaran line was quickly overwhelmed by the suddenness of our attack. They were torn apart by the ferocious cavalry charge led by Zaor and myself. They were surprised, and found themselves squeezed by our powerful mounted force. We cut them down wholesale. Our fine archers shot thousands of deadly arrows at any Zaran who tried to fly away by taking to wing to gain flight, or to fight us above from the air. This day their ability to fly did not help them in battle against our deadly arrows. Our arrows forced them to stay and fight on the ground, which is just where I wanted them to be.

Now our foot soldiers moved in to cut the enemy down, even as my mounted cavalry decimated their ranks. Eventually I could see that the military cohesion and purpose of the Zaran host seemed to melt away. Panic set in. They were the masters of Zar, they were not to be beaten in battle by mere Greens—but we were tearing them to pieces now.

Now I rode at the head of a small band of Black Dragons giving chase to a group of Zaran Winged-men trying to make a break for freedom. They were smart enough not to take to wing, where our archers would shoot them out of the sky, so they ran away to the west. I knew that the creature at their head had to be their new leader, Bron. I called him out.

“Bron, you coward! Come and face me in battle!” I barked as I spurred my mount closer to catch up to him and his group. My small contingent of Black Dragons bodyguard following quickly in my wake.

I reached Bron and he suddenly stopped and turned to face me in battle. We squared off against each other. Around us his warriors fought against my Black Dragons in a brutal and bloody melee. Bron and I moved in closer, swords ready, thirsty for blood.

Bron came at me with a powerful attack but I knocked aside his sword with my blade. He was shocked I had thwarted his bold advance. I then came at him and he moved off, but I stopped him and my sword blade cut his leg, so he could no longer get away from me.

“Now you have to stay and fight!” I barked full of the fury and rage of battle.

“I will feast upon your heart, Jon Kirk!”

The creature from Zar screamed bloody murder and then came at me again with his sword swinging, just missing me. I sidestepped his mighty blow and gave him another cut, this time on his sword arm. He was done and he knew it. It was only a matter of time.

Then he surprised me, he flapped his massive wings and suddenly took to the air. That was unusual and unexpected now because our archers had pretty much kept the enemy from taking to flight—and when they did fly they were quickly shot down dead. But I was surprised when I did not see any of our arrows hit Bron.

Where were the archers?

Bron now flew above me unheeded, he flew overhead around and high up, then he dived down upon me with his sword extended from his arm like some mighty spear he would use to impale me. I stood awaiting his attack. There seemed to be none of our archers here now to help me. It did not matter. I waited for Bron’s attack with the stoic patience of the fighting man. I knew he could take me with this move, but I had my own plan to bring him down. While he was still in the air high above me I waited for the proper moment and then I suddenly threw my sword up at him. I flung the heavy weapon upwards with all the power my great Earthly muscles could give it. The power of my arm shocked Bron, but it shocked him still further when my blade impaled itself deeply into his chest and he suddenly over-ended in flight and then crumpled up to crash down to the ground at my feet. I walked over to the last leader of the Zaran Winged-men.

“It is not over, Jon Kirk,” Brom gasped with his last words of life. “We are not of Ares—we are of Zar—and we shall come back to claim from you what is ours.”

“Then more Winged-men shall die,” I said simply, determination in my voice and etched into my face.

“Then so be it,” Bron gasped these last words as he died. “Then so be it!” I repeated in a grim whisper, but the determination in his own words troubled me greatly. This battle was won but the war was not yet over.

I withdrew my sword from his body and wiped his blood off my blade using his regal clothing. The last leader of the Winged-men on Ares was dead and their army was done for now. Defeated totally. It was only left for my men to clean up the battlefield of stragglers and take prisoners.

The Winged-man horde was now leaderless and fleeing in a desperate route, the last remaining enemy were heading northbound in terror to get away from my hosts and away from Tarcos. Tarcos was safe now and that was the main matter on my mind. My beloved Empress Sirah was in the city and she was safe. She had been under guard by Sahn Jor and his men in the palace. I sighed in relief that she remained safe, her safety was what mattered to me most in the world.

Zaor and I leading my elite Black Dragons mounted bodyguard then cut off the remains of the fleeing enemy force in a bold stroke that blocked their escape route northward. They were trapped and they knew it. Meanwhile thousands of arrows took down all the Winged-men who took to the air. They were doomed and realized it as well. Panic set in among the remainder of the horde. Nevertheless, our warriors were determined to keep the fleeing winged invaders running for their lives. Thousands of the enemy host found themselves trapped and were cut down by our troops with swords, or by our deadly archers. Those of the enemy that turned and still fought us were few and outnumbered, and these were dispatched quickly and without pity. Those that remained ran away in frantic flight. Any of the enemy who tried to use their wings to fly away and escape—were quickly taken down by our arrows.

“We have won a great victory today,” I stated with joy and relief to my friend, Zaor.

“This is a great day for the Greens all over Ares,” Zaor told me, his face flushed with the sweet taste of victory. “It is all because of you, My Emperor. It was a lucky day for Ares when first you came to our world.”

I smiled, thinking of my beloved Sirah, “It was a luckier day for me, my friend.”

The assembled Green warriors cheered both of us with chants of victory. For now the battle was done and won. The city and people of Tarcos were saved.

* * * *

Aron The Elder rose from his seat to stand in a majestic stance exuding firm timeless power. He spoke with conviction, “Everything has been completed now. Shamar will leave immediately for the city of Lanar where he will help Konor lead the revolt there against the Vognars. In the meantime, we shall aid them from here with our mental powers, blurring the enemy reactions, making them unable to fight or respond to his attacks. More importantly, Lord Mentep’s massive fleet of airships and army must be stopped, and now they will be.”

Shamar immediately left Keva using another stolen Vognar air vessel on his mission toward the city of Lanar on the western continent where he was to find Konor and help lead the revolt of that province against the hated Vognars. Lanar had once been a free nation, now it would be so once more, the people of the city were already set to revolt because of Aron and his companions’ work upon the minds of the leaders there. It was not a difficult thing for the Kevan Old Ones to accomplish this since the people of the city were already predisposed to revolt against their hated Vognar masters.