The Horse Lord

Chapter One:

The Calling of a New Horde

‘When inky darkness envelopes you there is a choice; allow its black tendrils to wrap tightly around you as you sink or reach out for the coloured threads of life to pull you back up.’

Teo sat on the window seat and considered this advice that his sister had once given him, it seemed so appropriate now, she had an old head on her young shoulders. He had had a sense of foreboding for some time now, and was dreading what was to come, yet he knew he couldn’t allow fear to get the upper hand. The view across the valley at sunset was stunning – amber, gold, dappled green and red, all served to lift his spirits. The landscape of the North being a joyous mix of mountains, rolling hills, beautiful valleys with meandering rivers, lush and fertile land spreading out and then dissipating into vast barren lands, buffers between the neighbouring territories.

Tonight, there would be a gathering of the men and women of the North to mark his coming of age, and to hear where Teo would pledge his allegiance. He knew it was time; he loved being with them so much, but he knew he had to tell them tonight – and tomorrow he would go.

“Come on, lad, drink up, drink up, it’s your night!” roared his father’s deep, reverberating voice over the hubbub and chatter around them. Teo smiled back at him and accepted the overflowing horn of ale pressed into his chest.

“To victory, to honour and to the North!” Alan Lionsmayne, Lord of Valrock, roared with gusto over the assembled heads of the packed hall.

“To victory, to honour and to the North!” the assembled Northerners roared back.

Teo loved the feasts and festivities of his people and the land of the far north. A land where, in the winter, the snow could make it almost impossible to travel, yet in the summer the heat would bake the earth hard, it was a land of contrasts and a place he loved.

“Look at them!” Teo turned at the voice of his mother to see her small round face, framed by her golden hair. “You would think the end of the world is coming, the way this lot go at it!” she said. He smiled at his mother’s typically restrained comment.

“Who knows, it might be!” Jai quipped. “Don’t you agree, brother?” Jai turned to Teo for his agreement, which he gave.

“I’m sorry, mother; I have to agree with Jai. It is our custom, is it not, to drink and be merry for tomorrow may not come?” Teo laughed as his mother gave him a soft punch on the arm.

“It is,” Lady Sophia cut across him, “but, as your mother, I must exude some level of decorum, and modesty.” He laughed as his mother winked, draining her goblet of wine in one. “Only some, though!” she added.

“So then, lad!” Teo turned back to the weatherbeaten face of his father. With his white hair, groomed white moustache and short beard, his father did look every inch the unflappable battle-hardened commander that everyone respected so much. “Who are you going to join, now that you have come of age?” he asked. Teo realised the crowd of revellers, drinkers and food gobblers had stopped and in an instant the eyes and ears of the whole horde were on him.

"Father," Teo replied, bowing slightly as he took to his feet; he could feel the weight of the large bearskin coat he was wearing drag down on his shoulders.

“I’m laying no bond to any horde in this great nation of ours.” Teo felt the moisture in his mouth vanish as the incredulous silence seemed to deepen. “No horde?” Teo heard his father’s words behind him. “Shush, Alan,” Sophia hissed. “After my exploits on the barren plains,” Teo continued “and observing, for the last few years, the growing danger from that direction I, first son of Alan Lionsmayne, descendant of the first Riders of the North, and befitting my rank, will form my own horde.”

There was silence; all waited for another to speak. Teo stood in the silence then realised he had said all he had to say and sat down. The movement broke the moment and silence was replaced by cheers, exclamations and an outburst of comments from all sides, some positive, some less so. Teo took hold of the mug of dark ale in front of him and took a swig to steady his nerves.

“That’s a bold move, my son, a bold move.” His father spoke directly to him. Teo nodded but said nothing. Yes, bold, thought Teo as he nodded to his father. He knew it had surprised many; a new horde hadn’t been called for over two thousand years. The four ancient hordes of their people had always survived without the need to increase the number, and calling was one thing ¬– whether anyone would come was another.

The following morning Teo walked through the grand hall, where the mess from the previous night was still clear to see, as were a few motionless bodies, most down to men drinking themselves unconscious, a few the result of fighting. The large bruise on one man’s face, which Teo noticed as he walked past him, was witness to that.

We can’t have a load of Northerners together without a good fight, Teo thought, and smiled to himself. He knew his people were very different to the people of the South; they were definitely different to those in Thulandria, the Imperial capital. Teo laughed out loud, picturing the reaction of the Southerners if they saw this aftermath, as he stepped across an overturned cart.

“It always looks like a scene after a battle, doesn’t it?” laughed Aron, the tall imposing commander of the high king’s bodyguard. With his large beard and incredible size, it was no wonder Aron was thought to be the greatest warrior alive. Aron’s usually kind face was serious as he looked at Teo.

“Walk with me, young lord. You have made quite a bold claim and we need to talk.” Teo smiled at him and replied, “Excellent, I need to talk to you too.”

Aron fell in step alongside Teo and continued, “Teo, I am honoured and proud you were awarded the rank of Horse Lord.” Teo looked to his old master and friend. “Thank you. I am humbled by it,” he replied. Aron nodded, deep in thought. “I pondered for a long time whether you were ready for such a position.” Teo felt himself tensing slightly at Aron’s tone; the mantle of command was still light upon him and could easily be removed by the men and women around him.

“Don't worry, lad. I'm not here with bad news,” Aron chortled next to him. Teo smiled at how easy it was to sometimes read things that were not there. “No... No, what you did out there was incredible. It is said that if a North man or woman can call upon the ancient Great Hounds of the North themselves then great honour and recognition must be laid at their feet.”

Teo noticed the wink Aron gave him as he continued to share his thoughts with him. “But enough of that, I was there and I saw you take on the Commander of the Dark Ones in single combat. I know your calibre, all of us who rode with you that day do. If any man is capable of forming a new horde, under a new banner, it will be you, my friend.”

Aron stopped abruptly, and Teo turned to see his face change from being serious to one carrying a big smile. The smile was followed by an outstretched hand.

“Go lad, do what you must. I'll be here to back you up!” said Aron with conviction. “Thank you, Aron. You have been a great friend and teacher and I'll always remember that,” Teo replied, his face cracking into an all-consuming smile as he embraced the big Northerner in a tight bear hug. “Go on now, lad before you make an old man cry,” muttered Aron. Teo gently punched Aron’s solid shoulder and turned back to face the road down towards the main gate, where people were lining up on each side.

So many familiar faces there. Teo hardened his own features, checking the pack on his back was fixed tightly, along with the bow in its case between his shoulder blades. This could be the last time he walked and laughed in the halls of his ancestors and along the streets of his people. “It is now or never,” he muttered to himself, forcing his feet forward as he walked the long gauntlet past his people, in the tradition of ancient times.

The lining of the road out of the hold, the impressive safekeep of the northern empire, was a usual occurrence when the banner and its warriors rolled out, but the calling of a new horde was something which hadn't happened for thousands of years, so today all were out to witness it and there was a carnival air to the morning.

He could feel the anticipation of the people around him as he reached the gate, where his father, brother and mother stood, proud but yet sombre. His father stepped forward.

“Teo Lionsmayne, first Lord of the Horse, you are here today and claim no banner, no allegiance to any horde, and so you must walk as a nobody with no allegiance in the North. You are hereby stripped from my horde, stripped from my keep, and no person here or anywhere in the North will admit you entrance until you find a banner to ride under once more.” Teo felt his mouth drying as the final words boomed out, in a crescendo down the long street. He looked at his father.

“I understand; by the ancient laws of our creed, and by my honour I vow not to sully my own name or the name of my people,” he responded.

“Teo, don't go!” A small, light voice pricked the stillness and seriousness of the occasion. Teo turned to his right, connecting his sharp blue eyes with the brilliant light blue eyes and beautiful features of his younger sister.

“Scarlet,” he smiled, striding over to her with as much levity as he could muster. “My sister, look at you,” He felt his heart warm. He hadn't been sure he would be able to see his sister before he left.

“How does your training go?” he asked, trying to lighten the dark mood of the event around them.

Scarlet smiled a broad beaming smile and roughly hugged Teo around his chest, her thick black hair smelling of jasmine underneath his nose.

“Don't go!” she pleaded. Her muffled voice reached out and pierced, like a dagger, through the thick folds of his coat.

“I have to, Scarlet, trust me, there are things and creatures and horrors that you can't even imagine, and I have to do this.” Scarlet’s bright eyes shone up from the folds of his coat, making Teo’s heart clench.

The knowledge that he may never see either of his siblings again was a painful thought. “Trust me, I will be back.” Teo smiled down at her as he slowly untangled the young girl from him, pushing her back gently to her tutor behind. He turned back to his father and mother, acutely aware of the muffled sobs of his sister behind him, to see his brother Jai smiling a wicked smile only a brother could understand.

Teo reached out, gripping his brother’s outreached arm in a tight warrior’s grip, as they always had.

“Don't get yourself killed out there,” said Jai. “And I don’t want to hear that the first Horse Lord we’ve had for millennia died of thirst.” Jai’s laugh helped to alleviate the dark mood as a few of the warriors around chuckled at his remark too.

“I shall try not to, for your sake, brother!” Teo smiled back, closing his younger brother into a tight hug.

“I would ride to your banner as soon as you unfurl it, you know that,” Jai whispered. “I know, Jai, I know. I wish you were older, I would gladly accept you as the first sword to my call – but, brother,” Teo paused as he extricated himself from his brother's grasp.

“You will ride under your own banner. You may even command this horde one day. I would rather have you at my side as an equal.” Tears were visible in the corners of his young brother's eyes.

Teo looked around; he could see the same glisten of tears replicated in Lady Sophia’s eyes. His mother reached out and hugged Teo tight.

“Look after yourself, my child, you do us proud,” she whispered. Teo forced himself to hold a neutral face, in spite of the feeling that his heart was to be pulled out from him. Will I ever see my family again? he thought, as he questioned his judgment in doing this.

“My son, my eldest, you've already displayed so much honour to make a father truly proud,” added his father. Teo stepped back, a little ashen in the face, as his father turned back to face the assembled crowd.

“It is a great day today that one of our sons, one of our people, has gained such standing and brings so much honour and respect to our shields. The golden lion that stands proud on our banner rejoices!” Teo looked up and beyond his father to the huge banner hanging down with the golden lion emblazoned on it, up on his hind legs, roaring at the gods above, his front legs outstretched with claws of gold. “Whatever you do, wherever you go, whatever happens in your journey, we will always be here and wish your speedy return under your own banner,” concluded his father.

He willingly took the warrior’s grip that his father extended out to him as the people of the North, the warriors, blacksmiths, farmers, everyone in the hold shouted out their support and congratulations.

Teo waved at them all before taking a deep breath and plunging out through the small chink in the door left open between the two huge wooden gates of the hold.

Almost instantaneously the sound from the crowds behind died away to nothingness. It took Teo a few seconds to refocus his mind and disentangle his thoughts from the emotions that descended upon him.

He knew that the message would have gone out; riders would be conveying what had happened at the hold to the four corners of the North, to every village hold and to every man, woman and child in the North. By the end of the week all would know that a new banner had been called, and the people would flock to see the spectacle for themselves and, maybe, even join with him. He suddenly felt all the expectations on him weigh heavily, like one of the many anvils he had watched craftsmen and women use to turn metal into blades when he was a boy.

One week to tame a horse, find a banner and reach the ancient circle, where the people of his birth would gather to meet him. “One week!” he reminded himself through gritted his teeth, rearranging the pack on his back.

“Best get on with it, then,” he said out loud and without a backward look he set off down the rutted roadway leading away from the hold and towards the open plains.

"Damn this weather!" Teo yelled out to the incessant rain as it stung like hornets attacking his skin. Four days had passed, four days where the rain had not stopped falling, four days where Teo had doubted, on numerous occasions, whether he was going to be able to complete the required task in the allotted time.

The people of the North would already be travelling up with their many mounts. Even the rough weather would not stop them, and most would converge on the most northern town of the territories within the next day. Then people would set off for the meeting place to await his arrival. Yet, here he was, underneath a gooseberry bush, wrapped up tightly in his cloak, sitting in the remains of a badger sett that he had found, quite by chance, when being pursued by two of the large wolves that stalked the North.

Luckily for him, the rain and the shallow stream he had waded through had disguised his scent sufficiently to deter the wolves. "Damn, damn!" Teo muttered into his cold hands that he held in front of his face. The gods of his people had not sent a sign of what the new banner would be and Teo reminded himself that he could devise from his own imagination something elegant enough to place on a banner; it had to inspire troops and strike fear into enemies, but there were the other tasks that would not so easily be resolved.

“I can’t stay here,” he finally managed to persuade himself. Taking a chunk of dried beef from his knapsack and pressing it into the inside of his cheek to soften, he scrambled up from underneath the thick, spiny bush. The rain that had plagued him was still falling, but not as heavily as it had been. “Oh, well, at least that is something,” Teo said to himself, pulling the hood on his jacket up over his head and folding the thick cloak he had been using as a blanket into his pack.

He looked towards the herd of wild horses he had been tracking for the past three days. He could see them in the distance, about twelve strands away. “That’s going to take me a long time to cover,” he mused, taking a quick drink from his water skin. He noticed the state of his hands as the clean, fresh liquid descended from its container into his mouth. Both hands were covered with small cuts and had dirt encrusted all over them from the scrabbling and climbing that he had done during the past few days. He shrugged his shoulders, smiling to himself; at least it was nice to be back outdoors, with nature, once more.

He set off at an easy jog towards the herd in the distance, making his way through the lush, long, green grass of the plains.

By midday Teo could feel the sweat collecting down his back, running across his face, mixing with the grime and blood on him, and yet, even with the searing heat, he felt jubilation in his heart. The distance was disappearing a lot faster than he had first imagined and, walking through the lush, mainly flat grasslands, away from the small outcrop where he had been sheltering for the last couple of days, he felt at peace. He savoured the sights and smells as he walked past the numerous wildflowers and lone trees that somehow managed to thrive out here.

A hill, rising from the plain some distance away on his left, was the only real draw for his eyes. A narrow pathway climbed up to what looked like a cave entrance, halfway up the hill where a jagged overhang loomed out over the undercutting pathway. It must be some sort of hunters’ retreat, Teo presumed, looking at the well-worn pathway. The overhang would give commanding views of the plain below for the hunting of deer and elk as well as boars – the game that made the higher grass their thoroughfare, between the isolated islands of trees that sprouted up in randomly placed clumps. Teo could see one such tree group in the far distance to his right, huge oaks.

The hard beef that he had placed into his mouth at the start of the walk had softened nicely, making it easy to chew at the saltiness. The dryness of the meat made most of the moisture in his mouth dissipate and gave him something to focus on other than the distant herd, which was a much needed distraction in this sea of grass.

He stumbled to a stop and looked up. In the distance, gliding across like an airborne demon, he saw the unmistakable black clouds of a harsher storm moving towards him. Teo had grown up on the plains; he knew how harsh and sudden the storms out in these reaches could be. He observed the speed at which they rolled across, from the dark shadow cascading along the ground towards him.

“I don't have time!” he muttered to no-one but himself, glancing back at the outcrop he had left behind all those hours ago. The storm would be upon him within minutes and he felt panic starting to rise in his chest as the first lashings of the pre-storm struck his exposed face. He was out in the open with no shelter.

The cave! Teo suddenly remembered and turned to look at the rugged hill to his left. It was quite a distance away but without further thought and with what felt like wings on his feet he sprinted straight for the safety of that bolt hole in the hillside. He had covered only about half the distance as the first phase of the storm rushed in behind him, sending him crashing to the ground with its ferocity. The howling wind whipped around in a crescendo, down and across the plain, instantly making him deaf and mute to everything around him.

He managed to pull himself up, hunching over in a ball, grounding himself against the storm’s incredible power, and then sprinted off again, to the base of the hill. He got there just as the black clouds released their cargo of spiteful, freezing water. The splatter of rain turned into a torrent. Teo tried to keep his hood up over his exposed head but the ripping wind just tore it down again. Through gritted teeth, and in desperation, he pulled himself up, embedding his encrusted fingers into the rock to keep himself on his feet. His anger began to build, as nature seemed to turn into his enemy.

“IS…THAT…ALL…YOU…GOT?” he roared into the wind around him, which lost its ferocity as he gained cover.

He rounded a bend in the rough path and climbed towards the overhang, reaching the jagged rocks just as the boom and hiss of lightning appeared from the heavens, lightning which snapped and crashed with a force greater than anything man could wield and exploded into the plain below.

Hunched over, he looked down in amazement at the sheer power of nature as a second burst of lightning illuminated the plains for hundreds of miles in all directions.

For the first time in days he could even see the outline of Valrock in the distance. A third boom illuminated the huge herd below, like a dramatic painting, as the shards of light showed the terrified movements of thousands of horses, just for a heartbeat, before they were gone, no longer visible as the land went back into darkness. A huge crash of rock close by on the summit of the hill reminded Teo of his perilous situation, making him quickly retreat into the deep cave behind him.

The static electricity in the air around him had made all of the hair on his arms and neck stand up on end, and the strange tingling sensation running through his joints reminded him how close the last bolts had been. He shook his head. “Such power!” he said to himself, gazing out of the entrance of his shelter, as the massive storm rolled over, engulfing the hill.

Teo found the darkness somewhat soothing. He sat a fair distance from the entrance to the cave so the buffeting wind, accompanied by the freezing rain, couldn’t reach him. The cool hard rock against his back was somehow comforting, solid and reliable for him to focus on, securing him against the storm raging outside. However strong the gods are, nature is always on top, he thought as the deep sound of rumbling rippled along the length of the cave. Although, he noted, it was strangely coming from not from his right, where the entrance to the cave was, but from his left. He found himself peering into the darkness beyond, wondering if some other creature had taken shelter in the cave with him, but even with his sharp, acute ears, so used to picking out the sounds of the North, Teo couldn't pinpoint what that deep-set rumble was that trembled back towards him.

“It must be the cave, an echo,” he muttered, not really convincing himself. Peering cautiously into the darkness, and pulling from his back the reverse composite bow, with which all Northerners were trained in from childhood, he notched a long black-clad arrow onto the taut string, just as a precaution.

“So, then! What do we have here?” he muttered to himself as he raised his bow up to a firing position and began to advance into the darkness. In doing so he realised, immediately, the impracticality of using a bow in such a dark environment. “A split-second shot may save me, it’s worth the risk, better the split-second shot with all its impetus than a second later slash with my blade,” Teo announced to himself.

Keeping the arrow taut in his right hand, he stepped further in. He noted the slight tremor in his hand. “Come on, man,” he urged himself.

“It’s not the first wild animal you have come across and it won't be the last, get a grip of yourself!”

He could feel all his senses tingling as the lack of vision forced his other senses to the fore. The sound of his leather boots scraping across the loose floor echoed around the enclosed chamber almost as loudly as the storm behind. Teo could feel his chest tighten, his breathing restricted with trepidation; each breath came a little more laboured with every single step. The deep rumbling had now become constant, steadier and louder, each rumble tumbling down on his ears more quickly than the last. He realised it was something breathing but he could not pinpoint the source. It was big, he knew that much. He knew the sound of the wolves that called the North their home, but the breathing was far too deep for a wolf, not one that Teo had ever seen and heard.

It was possibly a bear but the bears in this area wouldn’t be solitary, especially at this time of year when they usually moved around with their cubs. “I don’t know,” he whispered to himself, conscious of the fear in his voice.

He rounded a corner as he followed the wall of the cave and found himself in a large antechamber with one shaft of light from a gap in the rock above piercing the blackness, illuminating a raised stone slab. The slab itself seemed unearthly, its straightened edges unnatural, the thickness and smooth quality of the rock giving it an unholy glimmer that for some reason, Teo found unnerving. The deep rumbling stopped, as suddenly as it started. Teo looked around, into the gloom; around the platform that looked like a strange altar of stone. “Is anyone here?” Teo heard a higher pitch in his voice as he turned to move his weight onto his lead foot, and ready himself behind the crossbar of his bow.

He slowly edged across the cavern, pivoting from side to side, trying to gain some sense of what was hidden in the murkiness that surrounded him.

“What is this?” He peered down, cautiously, at the strange ruins and symbols etched into the top of the blocks beneath his feet when a deep-set growl from behind him almost caused him to release the still taut bow in his grasp.

He twisted around to face back towards the dim outline of the entrance that he had just walked through. In the murkiness stirred an outline of something large.

“Come out!” Teo found himself yelling at the strange apparition. He closed his left eye to try and focus the limited light through his right iris. A large silhouetted creature stalked into the cavern, circling along the wall to Teo’s right. Teo was amazed by the sheer size of the creature.

Tracking its movements with the tip of his razor-sharp arrow, he carefully aimed at what he guessed was the creature’s neck.

From the way it walked Teo realised, with a start, that it was without doubt a large predator. The raised shoulder blades and lowered head signified this as the creature’s menacing eyes focused, looking out forwards. Teo slowly backed around the strange stone, away from the creature, which was now tracking around the base of the cave and heading towards him. Teo stopped on the opposite side of the altar, just as the strange animal did. The murky darkness that had shrouded it paled slightly and the glimmer of light revealed the body of a huge cat, with a thick mane of pure white hair flowing down round the unmistakable features of a full-grown lion. Startling blue eyes stared at Teo, eyes which were cool and distant as they observed the man in front of them. Below those impressive eyes was a nose of black and red, striking against the dazzling white fur. Underneath the nose was a gaping jaw with four huge canines bared and a large, thick pink tongue, the tools that the lion would use to rip Teo's flesh from his bones.

The sheer size of the creature was hard to believe. Teo had seen lions before, especially in this area of the North where the lion was so sacred. He had seen how large they could grow, up to 500lb, twice the weight of some of the largest men in the North and all muscle. But this, this was something else, this lion was enormous. Its head reached up to almost eye level with Teo himself, who stood at just over six foot, the stature of the beast was remarkable, double the size and weight of any lion Teo had ever seen. From the sheer size of the shoulders and legs Teo could see the power this rarest of creatures possessed.

Bizarrely Teo found himself lowering his bow in awe at its beauty and latent strength.

“You are indeed the king of all you see!” he murmured to the massive creature. The awe and respect in his voice surprised even him. He smiled in wonderment as the lion slowly moved onto the strange plinth and positioned himself so he was basking in the thin light that now illuminated his whole body. The light picked out the huge head with its mane of hair flowing over the shoulders, the long back rippling with muscles that almost seemed carved from rock, the long tail tipped in black, which flicked back and forth, swatting at nothing. The size of the beast’s paws was immeasurable, his huge claws clicking against the rock beneath them as he looked calmly down at Teo. The man sensed some sort of bond, of comradeship, with this great creature in front of him and his natural fear began to disappear. The lion seemed satisfied with this and lay down fully, with a deep-throated growl, onto the cool rock beneath.

Teo stood in amazement, too shocked to even think of breathing, shocked at how close he was to something so deadly; yet some voice in his mind was telling him the lion was safe. It was like the urge he got sometimes when he stood on top of a high canyon or a tree; the small insane voice in the back of his head that would tell him to jump or dive was now telling him to approach the lion basking before him. He had often been tempted by that voice, though common sense would normally prevail but, on this occasion, he felt the need to respond.

He was aware of how dry his mouth was as he took his first, tentative step towards the awesome power in front of him. “I mean you no harm,” Teo whispered, more for himself than to reassure the lion, who looked very much as if he needed no reassurance. Teo approached the lion slowly and as he did so the lion’s large blue eyes stayed focused on him, further unnerving him as he edged closer and closer.

Chapter Two: The Gathering

“Do you think he will make it?” Jai looked across hopefully at his father standing next to him, their horses grazing a few feet from them as they stood on the top of the ancient meeting circle of their people. The huge rise emerged from the broad, sweeping plains with a strange bowl-shaped dip in the centre of a circle that was continuous except for one gap which fell away, down through the lush grassy sides of the mount and back onto the plain below. “I don’t know,” his father replied, without shifting his gaze from the myriad of colours in the attire of the mass of people below. “It looks like the whole of the North has come,” Jai heard his father sigh, almost with relief although tinged with a flicker of nervousness.

“Your Lordship, the other lords and high king are all here and they ask permission to enter the sacred spot.” Alan bowed his head in response to the thick-set messenger who was sitting astride a shaggy mare. Jai flicked an appreciative eye over the large eagle resting at ease on the man’s right arm. The messenger, with a nod of the head and a flurry of dust, dashed off down towards the entrance to the meeting place, where the lords and the sacred banners of the North would be waiting.

“Father,” Jai found himself asking, “why are they asking for your permission? “ Jai’s existence to date had been but fourteen winters and, as yet, he didn’t have a full grip on the ceremonial and symbolic side of life. He was keenly aware of that and wanted to learn. He smiled as his father’s weather beaten and wrinkled face turned to inspect him.

“I forget how young you are sometimes, because of your height!” Lord Lionsmayne laughed, patting the young lad’s shoulder. Jai knew he was tall for his age; he was already as tall as his brother and looking like he was to grow a lot more.

“They ask my permission because I’m holding this area – we were the first here, to this meeting place we have used for centuries, and our warriors show that as they take position around the rim of the bowl.”

Jai cast a curious eye over the assembled warriors all around them, hardy men and women of the North in their long brown and grey coats, with fur erupting from the tops, their long sabres and axes dangling with menace from backs and sides, reminding him of the warring tradition of his people, warriors since time immemorial.

Every person in the dip and on the rim was armed in some way; almost everyone of adult age had a bow strung across their chest or in their grip.

“The weapon of our people,” Jai sighed, running his hand along the top of the composite bow that was strapped to his back. Lord Lionsmayne noticed this and laughed “So, an enemy would attack us here, whereas a friend must ask to sit at our fire.” Lionsmayne spread his thick arms wide, encompassing the whole area.

“Here they come, boy, see!” Jai spun his head round, looking down into the bastion below him, to the entrance road, where, at a slow trot, the lead elements of the other three provinces were processing.

“Come on, Jai, let’s ride down!” Jai noticed the wicked smile across his father’s face as the big man was easily into his saddle and careering down the slope before Jai had even reached his mare.

“Ahaa ha!” Jai exploded, allowing his mare to pick her own line at full tilt down the slope, following his father towards the thick maple wood flagpole embedded into the large stone altar that dominated the centre of the circle. A white flag, with the golden lion standing on his back feet, the standard of the House of Caedmon, fluttered in the light breeze. Jai reined in behind his father's horse. The big man had already taken his place in front of the standard, and sat with his hand on the hilt of his gilded sword, his cleaned and polished white breastplate, with the large golden lion in the centre, catching the light directly upon it, forcing Jai to squint slightly.

His own brown, bland breastplate seemed so mundane in contrast. Jai noticed the warriors of his father’s horde unfastening their worn riding cloaks, revealing their bright white breastplates with the golden lion as the people of the North descended into the circle in a mass. Lords rode in alongside old women, farmers and artisans. Jai loved this about his people. He had heard about the class systems in the South, a bizarre system that enslaved people mentally, which in his book was as bad as enslaving them physically. The whole notion seemed to lack any sense, Jai mused as he watched the parade of free people heading towards him.

The different houses were denoted by their banners. The green breastplates with the charging brown boar of Valran, the province to the south, bobbed up and down.

On the extreme right of the parade were their banners and a large bare-chested warrior, covered in intricate blue tattoos, carried the black pole with the huge standard on top it. Next to the standard of Valran rode a tall and sturdy-looking woman, with intricate plaited hair down her back and shaved on the sides.

The purple horse of Amroth was clear, easy to pick out as it reared impressively against the shimmering metal grey background, metal grey to represent their forges. Amroth, the capital province and home to the high king of the North.

The third standard was the red stag of Grove, the province to their east. Their banner bobbed up and down in the firm hands of a thick set, broad-chested man, with the large forearms of a craftsman. His huge black beard and thick hair reinforced the impression of a woodsman, as did the mighty hatchet fastened in his belt. The man sat proudly on his mount, the banner securely in his hand, the final banner of the three visiting standards of the North. All now slowly made their way, almost silently, except for a single drum beat from a lone drummer that Jai couldn’t see until the three standards were placed with reverence next to the large golden lion standard.

A slight wind picked up, lifting and revealing the four standards that the men of the North had always followed since they came to these lands over eight thousand years ago, the standards that told the legend of old Ironsides, when he rode against the Elves in the Great War to free mankind. Jai felt great pride and a wave of emotion as the single drummer tailed off his drum beat, and a silence fell, unlike anything Jai had ever heard before, if a silence can be heard – even the animals were quiet; the horses, dogs and birds all seemed to be mesmerised by the four standards and the moment. Finally, the high king signalled a bugle to release them all from their trance. A shrill blare burst across the silence and, the men, women and children of his father’s horde let out a explosive yell of welcome and the half a million or so Northerners now standing, waiting in the meeting place, returned the greeting with a wild and boisterous shout of their own, producing a cacophony of noise that momentarily left Jai stunned.

The sudden resumption of so many people talking was a jolt as people smiled and laughed and hugged each other, all the four provinces mixing like a huge family that hadn’t seen each other since someone’s birthday.

“Lord Lionsmayne!” a voice called over, “I hope your son knows what he is doing!” Jai smiled at the familiar sound and sight of Aron, clad in his silver breastplate of the high king’s guards, the purple cloak showing everyone his position as Sentinel of the North, the highest military position that wasn’t a lord, Jai recalled as Aron winked at him.

“Aron, my lad, how are you? I saw you talking with Teo before he left. I’m sorry I couldn’t chat; as you would expect, I had to gather my warriors in to bring them here as soon as possible.” Jai smiled as his father and Aron exchanged knowing grins

“He’s a good lad, your Lordship, he’ll be fine, don’t worry.” Jai noticed his father’s furrow deepen a little at Aron’s kind words.

“You have great affection for my son, and I thank you for that, Aron,” he replied as Aron performed a neat bow, then accepted the warrior’s grip that Alan Lionsmayne offered him.

Jai found that he was slightly bemused as the mass of people moving past him shouted greetings to one another; the sea of colours and smells was slightly nauseating. He negotiated his way gently past an old lady with a large battle-axe hanging across her shoulder to view his father greeting the other lords of the North.The high king, a good foot shorter than his own father, and with a kinder face, smiled at his esteemed comrades; the tall elegant Lady Patel of Valran; the shorter, blond-haired Lady Stewart of Grove.

“It’s been a long time, my lord,” Lady Stewart began. “I’m glad to see you all. I hope your boy finds what he is looking for.” Jai watched as his father accepted the hand grasp of Lady Stewart.

“Have no fear, he will!” he replied. Lady Patel cut across: “Your son is our Horse Lord – an honour not given for a very long time. I’ve heard he is the finest blade ever, is he not, Aron?" Jai smiled at the slight discomfort in Aron's eyes as the three lords and the high king turned to face him. “What say you, Aron, is this true? Is he better even than you?”

The high king smiled at his bodyguard and friend.

“Lords, ladies,” Aron replied, “I’ve seen the boy fight and I can say with ease that he is!” Jai was slightly shocked by Aron’s sincere response. I mean I know he’s good, thought Jai, but the greatest ever? Better than Aron himself? The image of his older brother slicing three training dummies and melons with his sabre flashed into Jai’s mind. Maybe he is, Jai found himself silently agreeing.

“So then, how long you think he will be?” came the next question, and all began to hazard a guess; “I don’t know a day, two days, who knows?”

“Jai, JAI!” Jai suddenly found himself being tugged away from the conversation of his elders and through the mêlée around him. “Finally, we found you!” called out George. Jai smiled as he recognised his two best friends in the world, George and Will.

“I was wondering what was taking you so long,” said Jai as he smiled and hugged both around the neck. “Get off, you great Tumshie,” laughed George as he tried to duck out of the friendly neck hold.

“Well, do you think your brother will do it?” was the immediate question from Will.

“Not now,” Jai cut across. “Come on, let’s find some food, get out of this crowd and find some fun.”

Jai smiled a broad smile as his friends realised the implication of his words. Still gripping his friends around their necks, Jai set off with George and Will, away from the banners and from the middle of the sea of humanity to find a place to talk.

Jai rolled over on to his stomach. The thick, lush green grass of the mount was more comfortable then his bed back at the hall, but the strong, bright light was blinding as it radiated across the top of the grassy knoll straight into Jai’s eyes.

“I’m up, I’m up,” Jai yawned as the bright orb destroyed the darkness once more in its never-ending daily battle to chase it out.

“Uhh, that was a good night.” Jai smiled down at the prone figure of his friends. Will, with his large head lolling to one side, arms and legs crossed, seemed in an enviable blissful sleep whilst the skinnier, smaller George looked a little more ragged.

“The cold get to you then?” Jai smiled, nudging the semi-conscious form of his friend.

“Of course it did. It always does, doesn’t it?” George sulked in return, pulling the thick blanket tighter around his thin features. “What’re you so bloody chipper about anyway?” Jai looked away from his accusing friend and across the top of the hill, across the broad plains.

In the distance he could see a flock of geese taking to the air once more to avoid a large herd of one of the mammals that dominated the North.

“It’s the last day for my brother. I’m looking forward to seeing him.” Jai noticed the uncertain look in George eyes.

“Blast you, Teo will return. He always has before!” But silently Jai acknowledged that this was considerably different. Watch over him, Jai thought a quick prayer to the land around him.

“Come on, you two; let’s get something to eat before everyone else is back on their feet.” Jai had already spotted a few lone figures moving through the sunken groups, handing out fresh warm stew to the few that had already risen.

“He’s not going to make it.” Jai looked over his shoulder, trying to identify the distant voice in the crowds of people sitting around the grassy hill, from the centre of which the banners still fluttered aimlessly. Jai felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder, stopping him from getting up.

“Easy now, young lion.” They will be proved wrong in a minute. “Patience, young one!” Jai smiled at the familiar features of Stephan above him. “How are you, Stephan? I didn’t know you had come.” Jai beamed a smile at Stephan, pulling him into a tight warrior’s embrace.

“This is Stephan, lads, he’s an old friend of the family, especially Teo, and he was second to Aron, along with being his best friend.” Jai smiled at the still prone faces of George and Will.

“A pleasure!” Stephan smiled down at the two boys before continuing. “I had to think about it, to be honest,” he began. “I can't really ride since what happened on the plains with your brother and Aron, you know,” Jai felt himself colouring at the awkwardness in Stephan’s voice. His injuries still sat uneasily with the warrior.

“But then it’s not every day a new banner is called for, so the wife and I left the villa that His Majesty gave me after that battle, and we hitched a ride with some of the folks who help us with our fields – and here we are!”

“It’s good to see you.” Jai smiled at the older man. “Will you sit with us and share a jug of ale?” Jai pointed to the supplies the lads had begged, borrowed and stolen to occupy them, to while away the few hours until Teo returned.

“I would love to, lads,” Stephan smiled “but I’m sitting with Aron and a few of our old guards who use to ride with him. It’s kind of a reunion, I suppose.” Jai noted the warm affection spreading across the old warrior’s face at the mention of his comrades.

“Of course, don’t worry about it!” Jai smiled back as he watched Stephan set off again, heading across the hill side towards where a few horse mats and saddles had been thrown down on the centre of the hill for the lords and ladies of the North. Jai smiled as the old warrior easily found his way through the crowds, as warriors young and old gladly moved to one side out of respect for the rider who had fought on the plains and the ex-second in command of the King’s Guards.

Jai returned to sitting on the soft grass, accepting a slice of warm bread from Will, baked by the mobile bakers the North was famous for.

“Toss me some of that goats’ cheese, will you, George?” Jai smiled at his friends as the three boys gazed down into the centre of the grass bowl; like the rest of the North, waiting for Teo to appear. Jai was happily accepting a refill of his goblet when the three lads realised the ground underneath them had begun to shake, so lightly at first that no-one noticed it. Jai looked about him as more and more of the people around them began to realise that the ground was moving, and then the air was suddenly split by a defining thunder clap, like a great wave descending upon them. Jai noticed that the more experienced men and women around them snatched up their weapons, preparing themselves.

“Wait, is...” George was cut off, mid-sentence, as the first of a seemingly endless number of horses thundered in to the low ground below them, hundreds or thousands of the beasts charging into the bowl, to the amazement of everyone around them. Jai noticed through the dense crowds that even his father and the rest of the lords and the high king were on their feet in surprise, observing the strange situation in front of them as the open space filled with wild horses, whinnying and snorting as they stopped and milled about at the bottom of the hill on all sides. Not one of the beasts set foot on the elevated stone slab where the four standards were displayed, giving it an even more unusual appearance, like an island surround by water in the form of horses.

“By the gods…” Jai heard someone shout as an audible, collective intake of breath was immediately exhaled and a stunned gasp rippled around the crowds sitting on the hillside. Those that could not see craned their necks to identify what had caused the commotion. Jai looked in the direction that everyone else was looking and finally his eyes came to rest on the opening into the circle through which the people of the North had arrived. There, standing alone was the largest, whitest lion Jai had ever seen. The beast’s huge head was the size of a small man, its body easily twice the size of any lion or mountain tiger Jai had ever seen.

“By the winds, look at him!” Jai spoke softly to his friends next to him, all looking down like the rest of the northerners as the proud lion, with no sign of fear or trepidation, boldly stood poised at the entrance with the high beams of the midday sun dancing off his glorious coat. A stunned gasp sharpened Jai's attention once more and he realised why, for behind the glorious lion walked the dishevelled but unmistakable figure of his brother Teo, clutching something akin to a heavy spear in his right hand.

“And by the gods!” Jai muttered at the unexpected spectacle before him.

Teo couldn’t resist smiling at the stunned silence as he walked up behind the great lion; he moved to its side and said,

“Thank you, Anemoi," patting the broad back of his new ally and friend. Since the day in the cave when the lion had accepted Teo’s presence, and Teo had shared the small amount of food he had with him, the lion had helped Teo to hunt and then to round up the horses and bring them to the meeting place. The lion, which Teo had named Anemoi, was not tame, that was obvious, but a bond had grown between him and the big cat, something like the bond between brothers was how Teo thought of it. He could feel all the eyes of his people on him as he walked through the thick herd of horses until finally he reached the stone dais.

He nodded his head in respect to the four standards in the centre before stopping and examining the crowd of people encircling him, all standing on the banks, separated from him by the sea of horses. Teo noticed the wary distance to which the Northerners on each side of the entrance had moved, carefully, away from the lion who now sat unmoved in the centre of the entrance.

Teo felt the stark blue eyes, much like his own, fix on him. Anemoi had done his job, and now it was Teo’s turn. Without any theatrics or drama Teo turned over in his hand the staff of white wood that he had found and cut to measure, and rammed the wooden tip into a small gap in the stone.

“Here goes!” he muttered to himself, releasing the thick pole. It quivered slightly in the wind but mercifully didn’t fall.

Teo felt his heart jolt with delight as the first bad omen was averted. The stone had accepted the new standard and not dealt him the shame of it falling to the ground. Now the heritage began. Teo turned to face the assembled masses.

“Will someone lend me their saddle?” he roared as loudly as he could. The eerie silence that descended over the crowds around him was the most terrifying moment he had ever felt. It was far worse than any battle he had fought; this was an ‘all or nothing’ move, where the danger wasn’t death but probably worse, isolation, a fate worse than death, to never see one’s family or friends again.

“I will. Along with my sword and bow, my blood and my honour, I will stand with you!” Teo looked around the distant faces searching for the lone voice that had called out, just as the million other eyes did, all darting about looking for the voice of the person who stood first at Teo’s banner. A tall, black, muscular man with kind, deep eyes that couldn’t hide a flicker of some pain behind them stepped forward.

“Thank you. I am Teo...” “I know who you are, Teo Lionsmayne, son of Alan Lionsmayne, descendant of the First Riders...” Teo noted the smile which spread across the man’s face. "Horse Lord of the North, it’s my honour to be first to your side. I am Nicholas, from a small village outside Caedmon. When I heard what you were doing I knew where I wanted to be.”

Teo felt his mouth open but no words came out. The sheer surprise and delight at the simple but direct words of Nicholas left him momentarily speechless.

“I loan you my saddle.” With that, Nicholas, with no pomp, passed his thick brown saddle across to Teo. “Thank you, my friend!” smiled Teo, placing the saddle down against the standard to support it.

“Don’t thank me,” Nicholas smiled, accepting the warrior’s grip Teo offered. “We need to form a horde first, don’t we, or it will be just me and you, and I don’t want any thanks for that!” Teo laughed at the lightness in Nicholas’s voice, despite the seriousness of the occasion, as the big warrior walked past him to take up his station on Teo’s right hand side.

“Anyone else?” Teo called once more into the animated crowd around them. “I shall ride with you” called out a tall, thin, brown-skinned man with a very neat jet black moustache and beard as he emerged from the sea of horses and stepped up onto the dais.

“I am Abdul of Grove and I will ride at the side of the Lion of the North any day!” “Thank you,” Teo smiled, locking eyes with the man’s brilliant hazel eyes, slightly surprised by Abdul’s name for him. "Thank you, Abdul," Teo repeated, refocusing himself and accepting Abdul’s black saddle, passing it to Nicholas to add to his own at the base of the standard. Teo embraced his new comrade.

“Right ho, wait for me! I’ll be bloody next if you don’t mind!” Teo smiled at the reassuring and familiar booming voice of his oldest friend as the mighty form of Matas with his bald head and shocking red plaited beard pushed his way through the horses towards him.

“Aye lad, sorry about that, I would have been first but you know it’s not the done thing for friends to pledge themselves straight away, but hell, you got two riders who I know not, so here I am!”

Teo smiled as Matas embraced him in a bear hug of mammoth proportions

"Thank you, my old friend!” Teo gasped, freeing himself from the near seven foot giant’s grasp and punching his arm. “I understand I wouldn’t want you to throw your lot in with me too easily. I know we’ve been best friends and have ridden with each other since birth but it’s always good to think first!” Matas punched him back. “Me, think first? Never...” he replied.

“Aye, that sounds about right!” another familiar voice piped in as the considerably smaller, thinner Aled strolled on to the dais “Hello, old boys. I thought I had waited long enough too!” he quipped as he smiled at Teo and Matas. Aled was another of his oldest friends, a dark-blond rogue.

“What my old friend Matas and I are trying to say, Teo, is that it’s all well and fun riding in your father’s horde but we need change, we need excitement. It is time to ride together and strike out in this new era!” Teo found himself introducing Abdul and Nicholas to Aled and Matas and explaining that Aled and Matas were the closest of friends. “But you wouldn’t think it if you didn’t know them,” Teo explained as the memories of Matas and Aled’s fights and arguments danced across his mind’s eye.

He turned to the crowd.

“I have four commanders now, so let’s get this banner flying!”

Without further ceremony he turned around, and bounding up onto the top of the saddles that he had placed at the flagpole’s base, took out his knife and, with a neat flick, cut the rope containing the banner.

It unfurled and fell lightly like a feather, revealing the Northern provinces’ newest standard for its newest horde, the Lion’s Pride.

The fabric Teo had found in the cave was a dense black, darker than he had ever seen, and in the centre of the blackness, as bold as Anemoi at the entrance, stood a white lion roaring in defiance. As if on cue Anemoi himself released an earth-shaking roar, stunning the already silent crowd further. Teo strode forward.

“People of the North! I, Teo Lionsmayne, Horse Lord, have today raised my banner, the banner of my horde, The Lion’s Pride. As decreed I have my banner, I have brought horses to ride and commanders to follow. It now falls to you to prove yourself. I have a thousand horses for a thousand warriors noble enough to join my horde. If you can, ride one of these wild beasts I have brought here today and win your place,” he paused to look around the sea of faces.

“Be warned, if you join I will ride you into the ground. You will not be a normal horde; you will not live in one of our established towns. We are going to the Keep of Malrock, where we will finally bring it to the control of man, and then it shall be known as the Lion’s Keep, whence my lions will ride from with fire and steel to protect the North from all that mean us harm.”

With that, a great roar like the sea crashing against a headland erupted around Teo and his friends as all the North accepted the new banner as one of their own. A few in the crowd began trying to take on a wild horse in the ring while the rest of the North settled back into a party atmosphere. The band began playing joyful tunes and people started to sing.

Teo smiled with some relief at the people around him. The brave or the foolish would try for the rest of the day and night to find a mount that accepted them and the rest of the North would sing and dance and drink to the good health of the men and women that would ride under the new banner.

“Bloody marvellous! Well then, lads, let’s have a sit down and some meat and, more importantly, a drink. If we’re going to be his new commanders we best get to know each other!” Matas laughed, slapping the wide-smiling Abdul on the back.

“I think we should!” Abdul laughed in reply, pulling a few saddles up from the ground in front of the dais for the five men to sit on. “Come, Teo,” said Nicholas. “We have to wait here any way until tomorrow so we may as well wait in style!”

Teo laughed and nodded his agreement “Right, thank you Nicholas, you’re a good man.” He accepted a horn of ale as the five men sat about in a semi-circle, watching the party around them.

The people danced and sang in groups from all four of the provinces. Teo knew already that his horde would be different. It wouldn’t be a horde of a province. It wouldn’t be a horde you rode with to protect your land. The Lion’s Pride would actively go searching for its enemies to protect all, not only the North. Teo had known this from the start. He needed to give the North its teeth again. Ever since the battle on the plains, where Teo had won the honour and the title of the Horse Lord, he had known that times were changing and that he needed to seek out the men that would help him to build a new horde; to train them, then hunt and destroy the evil Teo had seen for himself, out on the plains.

“Soon,” Teo muttered to himself, as the first bonfires erupted with sparkling flames, waving their destructive dances across the evening sky, illuminating the celebrations as they went into the night.

“It's good to see you, father.” Teo smiled, clasping hands tightly with him.

“You have done us proud, lad,” responded his father

“I am sorry to see you leave my horde, my hall and my banner – but this decision is the right one. We can’t have our Horse Lord riding under someone else’s banner and I’ve always said you’re a difficult bugger, Teo, but by the gods, I’m pleased you’ve stuck to your true self and not given up – Lord Lionsmayne!” Teo smiled at this use of his rank, the same rank as his father’s.

“Thank you, Father.” He felt the hot prickle of tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, which he suppressed as another voice chimed in.

“Well, young man, there isn’t a finer person to lead a new banner to battle for the North. I’ve been watching you ever since the events out on the barren plains and this feels like the appropriate step on what I trust will be your long and honourable career.” Teo smiled down at the high king of the North, accepting the light yet firm hand shake he offered him.

“Remember, Teo, the North will always need its champions and heroes,” the high king whispered before stepping back to allow the other Lords of the North to congratulate him. Teo smiled and nodded, feeling his usual discomfort with social events.

Aron sought him out. “Keep yourself out of trouble, and don't forget that you have friends spread out around the North. You know where I am!” he beamed at him. A new voice spoke up: “I wish I could ride with you,” said Stephan as he limped into view from behind Aron’s bulk.

“Stephan!” Teo smiled, embracing the old warrior in a hug of brothers in arms. “It’s good to see you - it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“Uhhh, what I would give to ride with you under your banner!” Stephan repeated.

Teo noticed the sadness flicker across Aron’s face as he looked on.

“So why don’t you, Stephan, maybe not with these new cubs here –” Teo lifted his arm to identify the faces of all the riders who had managed to tame a wild horse in one night. “But why don’t you come later with the baggage train?” Teo could see the hope starting to flicker in the depths of Stephan’s dull eyes.

“Look, Stephan, I need someone to run my hold, my keep, and what better man than you? Be a warrior again, and I will make you my Marshal of the Lion’s Keep, for you to run and stock yourself. Me and Nicholas over there will run the raids and scouts from the keep – I will be the commander, you and Nicholas my seconds.” Teo could see the uncertainty across Stephan’s face.

“Stephan, look, you commanded Tremens, you have fought in more battles then I will have heard about. I’m not doing this out of pity, you know me, I have no room for that, but I need experience. Hang it, one half of these riders here probably won’t make it, and they are the best the North has to offer, but you, Stephan, have been there time and time again.

“You know everyone, you can gather the best blacksmiths, the best healers, the best farmers, the best everything, so the Keep is in order, to complement the warriors I will find. Together we can man the keep and ensure it can last for a thousand years without outside help. I need this, Stephan, The Lion’s Pride needs you, so join me, join my horde and ride once more, under my banner!” Teo spoke with passion and with sincerity.

“My old son, you have become quite the leader, how could I refuse, of course I will!” replied Stephan. Teo felt the slight tension that had been running through him disappear as he heartily embraced his old comrade.

“Stephan, you know where the Black Mountains meet the gateway to the barrens?” continued Teo. Stephan nodded grimly; no person would ever forget such a place.

“The keep is there, and I want it back, so meet me there in eleven days with the people I require. We have work to do, my friend!” Teo boomed as he hauled himself up on to the back of the jet black stallion that he had claimed for himself before running the wilds into the meeting place. He leant down to accept a horn and the new Lion’s Pride banner from Jai.

“Thank you, brother, take care.” Teo leaned over to him. “One day I may need you to ride with me at my side, so keep up with your training!” He squeezed his brother’s shoulder.

“You cubs!” Teo roared over the mass of people around him all wishing their sons and daughter farewell, “I am Teo Lionsmayne, Horse Lord of the North, descendant of the First Riders of the North, Commander of the Pride – and today we ride to WAR!” Teo punched the black banner in his left hand high above the crowd of his people. The North itself seemed to shout its support as, in the distance, thunder boomed across the plains in response.

“Are the men ready?” Teo turned the mighty black stallion neatly about to face his commanders.

“They are, Commander.” Nicholas bowed, the social friendliness gone in an instant as the demeanour of a true warrior fell across his features.

“Good. We ride hard. If one of you drops out or falls behind, or injures your horse, then you share the same fate as everyone else, understood?” Teo held eye contact with the four men first to his banner until each faltered under his icy blue stare.

“Sound the horns!” he barked and, without looking back, with his banner aloft, he charged out of the meeting place of their people, leaving behind his family and his previous life.

He knew that he now stood apart from his friends and fellow warriors. He had taken on the mantle of the Horse Lord, a heroic role that his people had been trying to lay on him to ever since the battle in the barren lands, and for the first time ever he felt at ease with the weight of this heavy responsibility. He knew his purpose and accepted it. The huge white lion, Anemoi, roared his approval from the top of a small outcrop of rocks.

Teo raised the horn he had accepted from his brother and returned the greeting with a single piercing blare, dropping the horn to tumble against his chest. His sword slapped against his side as he rode. There was a myriad of noises; the horses’ tack, the numerous saddle bags and bits of equipment clattered along. The only thing that seemed eerily silent was the banner in his left grip. It fluttered calmly and resolutely.

“Onwards, Shadow,” Teo whispered into his horse’s ear.

“Onwards, follow Anemoi. He will lead us to the keep.” He released his hands from the horse’s rein and let the horse follow the progress of the great lion in the distance, leading the way. Teo cast a curious glance behind him at the staggering sight of a thousand warriors astride a thousand horses, clad in a rainbow spread of colours, riding in no discernible formation across the plain. His four commanders; Nicholas, Abdul, Matas and Aled, were close on station riding alongside him.

The rest of his new command still stretched back to the meeting place where families, friends, warriors, lords and ladies would be packing up and saying their goodbyes to each other as the great circle once more was returned to the land, as it should be. The four standards would be returned to the grateful grips of their bearers, the long journey back to their resting places in the four halls of the North would begin.

He smiled at the image. Jai, Aron, his father and mother, Scarlet, everyone would be heading home, whereas he was riding to something entirely new, which thrilled him more than he had ever thought possible.

“Ten days to sort out this mob then a harsh battle to retake the keep. If they can do that,” Teo muttered to himself, “then they can do anything.” He pulled a small strip of dried beef from his pack, the same as he had shared with the great lion all those nights before. Life is strange; the future is always so unclear, it has a path of its own – all we can do is choose to follow, or not, he mused, biting in to the tangy, salty hard meat as Shadow ran on under him.

Chapter Three: The Keep

Ten days later, Teo pushed the small sycamore bush to one side. The deep-sided valley ran from the tree line that he now sat in, up to the start of the Black Mountains, the mountains reached so high that he couldn’t see the top for the clouds. The rock that gave the mountain range its name was startling to witness, it was almost entirely black except for small outcrops and indents where sparse life, in dark brown or grey, popped out from the inhospitable slopes, clinging to existence on the impressively sheer face. He scanned the topography of the valley until his gaze fell on what he and his warriors had been travelling towards for so many days; the Keep of Malrock, one of the ancient keeps of the Elves, or something even before them; Teo did not know its true origins. All he really knew about Malrock was that the keep had long been given a wide berth by all that passed this way.

He spotted a lone figure stumbling, as if on cue, along one of the high outer walls built into the stout mountain at the rear of the keep. Teo watched as the figure shuffled slowly towards a crack in the wall, where it appeared to be hit by a boulder from above; or maybe something more sinister. The shambolic figure with its torn clothes didn’t stop.

Teo watched aghast as it plummeted through the gap and down a thirty-foot drop, exploding at the bottom like a sack of unripened tomatoes. He watched in morbid fascination as the figure, which he could still make out across the valley, seemed to regroup itself. It suddenly looked up, almost directly at him, and then miraculously started to drag himself, entrails, shattered legs and all, down from the moss-covered walls of the keep, down the harsh slope and towards the small, algae-riddled stream running across the valley.

Teo allowed the sycamore to spring back into place as he hunched over and made his way back along the small grove he had crawled up just before daybreak, down to the broken moss-covered wall that marked the only sign of habitation he had seen since entering the wood. He moved along the thin road that still ran alongside a large area of woodland, towards the barrens beyond. Suddenly, what looked like a tall cloak-covered rider mounted on a sabre-toothed beast seemed to be at the end of the dark, unnaturally straight road. Teo froze: he squinted in the dusk and the apparition was gone.

He knew what it was; the Dark Ones were never far away from him, always creeping out from the corners of his mind. He shook his head. “No,” he muttered out loud to himself, “It’s just your imagination overworking from tiredness, that’s all it is.”

He rubbed his eyes, straightened his back, and felt the well-used muscles and joints in his shoulders click satisfyingly. The miles done in just ten days had almost killed him and Shadow; indeed, it had killed a few warriors whose weariness had led to their untimely deaths. He shook his head again to rid his thoughts from the sober images of the handful of corpses that lay in the grove with the rest of the warriors still breathing. We will burn them with honour after we take back the keep. I don’t want my brothers and sisters lingering on this earth, they rode with us and they will be burned with any more of our dead after the battle, Teo concluded as he stifled a yawn. The lone figure had confirmed his worry that the keep was in the hands of an enemy to be reckoned with, and they were not all going to survive.

“So?” Matas growled as Teo strolled back into the large clearing that the Lion’s Pride had made their home since arriving the previous night.

“It’s as I feared.” Teo sensed the many eyes of his warriors on him. Nicholas prompted him on, nudging Teo in the ribs “I only saw one fhoran but you know where one is, there will be more.”

Aled cut across: “But if that’s it then, just fhoran’s, it shouldn’t be too bad, we just need to lure them out. They are slow and stupid and easy to destroy with all our archers.” Aled smiled at the company around him.

“It’s not that simple, Aled,” replied Teo. “I don’t know what it is, but there’s something hanging over that place, there is a reason our ancestors avoided it when they came north, and there's a reason why the old wives’ tales and fables are passed down about this place. There is something lurking within the keep, but I don’t know what. The fact that I only saw one fhoran worries me: I would expect there to be more. It’s as if they’re biding their time, waiting. The lack of nature around here concerns me too.”

“What?” Matas blustered, “What are you on about?” Teo turned to face his large friend. “Listen!” He watched as his four commanders listened to the surrounding noises. There was the odd scrape of a weapon, and light conversation but no other sound.

“Strange,” Nicholas agreed, turning back to face them. “The wildlife has gone, not even a bird.”

“Indeed,” Teo interjected, “and I’ve never known a castle keep or hall where birds have not found a space to make a home.”

He turned to point to the white, steep, spiral tower they could all just see over the top of the dark brown trees.

“That place, our keep, has nothing; no sound, no life. It isn’t right. Tomorrow, when we attack, I want everyone to stay firm and tight together. I don’t know what is in there but if this lot…”

Teo lifted his hand to indicate the mass of warriors, sitting and standing around him, sharpening knives and stringing bows “…can deal with it then we know we have the right people for the job.”

“A test by fire then, aha!” Abdul laughed, breaking the eerie tension of the moment.

“It’s the only way,” said Teo “Some things can’t be taught, some things just have to be done and learnt by experience. Go to your men and tell them what I’ve seen. Tell them to ready their equipment. We will attack at dawn, from the tree line.”

Teo felt the pressure that had become his constant companion returning to his young shoulders. The peace that he had felt over the last few hours, whilst on his own, had gone; being a lone wolf had passed, it was now his time to become a lion leading his pride. He laughed at this thought, trudging off after his four friends, old and new, to his group of two hundred men and women that he had picked for his double jagot. Teo was still not sure that his innovative structure for his warriors would work.

Troops were usually grouped into hundred to make up a jagot but, at the moment, each of the five commanders he had under his direction had been assigned to a double jagot, so two hundred in each unit and it seemed to work. He had allocated twenty sub-commanders know as a dargo, two per jagot, leading fifty warriors each. It was unusual for a full horde to number only a thousand; Teo, holding the highest rank in the land, could and should be commanding at least ten thousand, known as a trumen; but he felt that this more compact size would prove more effective as the faster striking force he had planned to create. He ran through this thought in his mind as he strode to the fire pit with his warriors: Let’s hope I’m right, for tomorrow the battle begins.

“Quiet there!” Teo didn’t even bother to turn around and chastise the warrior behind him. There were always pre-battle jitters from the ranks, with some nervous young warrior muttering or some other jittery ranker shouting to stay his own beating heart. Teo knew he had become immune to the fears and worries of his own, but understood the fears of others and thought no less of them. At present the only thing that concerned him was the lack of movement from the keep in front of him. He peered through the low branches that obscured his and Abdul’s men, even astride their chargers.

“It's so quiet!” Teo turned to face the neat moustache and hazel eyes of Abdul next to him. “It’s troublesome. I would like to send scouts in, but I need to see this rabble fight.” Teo gestured his hand behind him at the four hundred riders under his and Abdul’s command.

“I understand, sir,” Abdul replied. Teo looked over his new friend. “You don’t need to call me ‘sir’, Abdul, the men know who I am and our structure is command-based, not hierarchical for massaging egos. I need you to just react to my orders when I give them, which is all I ask of you, my friend.” Abdul nodded and grinned.

“I talked to the lords about you and Nicholas before we set off. They have faith in you and so do I, until you give me reason not to,” he continued, turning his attention back to the target through the branches. The morning mist still hadn’t cleared and hung to the ground in the bottom of the valley like wraiths cowering away from the sun

“Matas and Aled will be in position, soon the time to strike will be upon us. Do you warriors have your axes sharp?” Teo questioned the six warriors behind him.

A tall, strong black woman with thick white hair responded first:

“We do, Commander, no door or barricade is going to stop us!” “Make sure it doesn’t!” Abdul smiled at the proud woman.

Teo looked her in the eyes “Ester, isn’t it?” He watched as the strong woman’s cold, detached face brightened for a moment at her commander remembering her name, and then the cold mask of a true warrior fell back down

“It is, my lord” she replied. Teo smiled casually as he leaned over his saddle towards her “Don’t call me ‘lord’, that’s for the other lords and the pompous sons in the South. You can call me Teo or, in the heart of combat, commander – nothing else, we are equal here, we will all face the same risk.”

“Speaking of risk,” Abdul interrupted, “I can see Matas’s signal!” With a final respectful bow of his head to Ester, Teo turned back to look down the hill. Sure enough, a single red pennant was waving back at Teo through the mist.

“It is time, then. Abdul, keep your men close to you, don’t lose them and make sure you reach the bridge after me. I don’t want our two units becoming entangled on the bridge and made easy prey, understand?”

“Yes, Commander!” Abdul winked.

Teo felt his heart beating faster as he checked the wooden shield on his arm, making sure the braces were in the right place. “Come, Shadow, you need only cover the ground up to the gate, I will do the rest,” he whispered into the silky black stallion's ear. He raised his arm as he nudged Shadow forwards from underneath their camouflaged perch, and then let it fall as Shadow began to gather speed.

This is what he lived for. He could feel his body coming alive as the wind of the valley hit him, making the hair on his exposed arms stand on end as the beat of his heart seemed to magically fall into time with the horse’s hoofs clattering down on the hard-packed earth.

The adrenalin pumped through his veins and the sound of the two hundred riders gathering speed behind him drummed in his ears and sent a shiver down his spine. These moments were when he felt truly alive, the exhilaration ran through his body as he and his unit galloped down the shallow bank. They made for the old crumbling bridge, covered in moss and algae where sticks and flotsam had partially blocked the stream to create a swampy area on either side. It looked as if it wouldn’t take the weight of the riders as they crossed. Teo had realised it was dangerous but it was the only option if the warriors were not to trudge up to their knees in the bog. Matas, Aled and their warriors, the night before, had done just that to get into position, ready to attack the thirty-foot-high wall with grapples and a few bolt linkers that the Northerners had brought with them.

Teo knew that if there were defenders there then the men would be easily cut down as they tried to scale the wall. The other option was to focus on the main gate, but splitting the force and sending four hundred of his men to try and climb the wall was a shrewd move, a backup plan in case the gate was heavily defended. If both attacks went well then the Pride would slash through this giant keep with its high, seemingly impenetrable, walls and bridges. Teo pushed all this from his mind; the die had been cast.

As he galloped across the old bridge he gave a cursory glance down at the masonry below his horse’s feet. Remarkably, all the moss and grime looked completely cosmetic, the masonry and bricks looked fine, as if they had been laid yesterday. Shadow started to pound up the opposite side of the valley, towards the formidable outer keep of this fortress. A broad stone ramp led up from the valley, up to a large hexagon that rested upon a rocky outcrop, jutting out some way from the main wall.

On the left hand side of the hexagon a second bridge made of stone and iron rose from the structure to a large gateway halfway up the main wall. The design and defensive properties were astounding. This feature, the raised separate gatehouse and raised separate entrance to the keep, had been the main reason Teo had known that this keep was the place the Lion’s Pride needed to call home. The fact that Anemoi had led him to it before the great lion had disappeared had reinforced this conclusion. Just as Teo reached the steep stone ramp he pulled Shadow to the side of the ramp, slipping off his muscular back onto the hard earth with a thump. He looked about him; Matas was at the centre of the wall and already trying to scale it with the grapples and the thick iron bolts that the bolt linkers had fired into the masonry for holds to help them climb.

This hadn’t initially worked but Teo could now see the fiery-bearded Matas clearly as the man heaved himself up one of the ropes towards the top. Beyond him, he could just see Aled and his men doing the same before the mist rolled over and obscured them once more. Ester landed down heavily next to him. Teo pulled the woman up to her feet.

“Come on then!” he roared, sprinting up the ramp with the handful of warriors who were up with him as the rest pulled to a stop where Teo had left Shadow. Glancing behind him he could see Abdul crossing the bridge at the head of his warriors. Just behind him was Nicholas, the standard in his hand, moving down the slope with the reserve force. Everything had been unleashed, the dice had been rolled and Teo realised it was time to fight or die. The chemical reaction in his brain thrilled him beyond any sense.

“Ester!” barked Teo, thrusting the woman in front of him. “Break through that door!” The strong woman, without hesitation, raised the long-handled wood-cleaving axe and slammed it into what they thought was a stout timber door.

The resulting scream, and Ester’s disappearance as she tumbled through, proved otherwise and provided Teo with an unusual entrance into the gatehouse, stepping through the large tear in the door that Ester had just created as she slammed through the surprisingly rotten wood.

Teo tried to adjust his eyes to the all-consuming blackness of the gatehouse.

“Where are you?” he called out to her, hearing the slight anxiety in his own voice as he trod slowly on into the blackness, pulling his favourite dagger from a sheath on his belt.

“Here!” came Ester’s shaken voice. It rang out in the strange echo of the dark room. The faint light from the broken door behind them flickered on and off as more and more bodies crammed through the existing gap. Then a scream rippled through the room from the other side of the entrance, chilling the very blood in Teo's veins.

"Get this bloody door open!" he roared without turning his back on the room. The fevered hacking and smashing of hammers were enough of a safeguard for Teo to creep on towards where he thought she was.

“Ester, are you all right?” he called out into the darkness as a booming noise erupted all around him. The shock wave of the noise momentarily stunned him into a frozen state of inactivity as the noise reverberated around and around, as if it had a life of its own and the walls would keep it alive. Teo felt the warm air and then saw the sudden burst of bright light, saturated with thin dust and shards of wood, as the full door collapsed and the room came clearly into focus.

“By all the gods!” He recoiled in horror at the sight before him. All around there lay skeletons of various sizes; some which Teo noted were far too small to be adult.

There was a strange smell of tar and pitch, which along with the various burnt cords and rope ends highlighted the number of humans that had been tied up and burnt inside the hollow hexagon.

Teo looked down at Ester. She was pulling herself to her feet, with the rib cage of some poor soul snared around her right foot.

“What happened here?” she asked. Teo looked up into the green eyes of Ester, as she stood tall in front of him, covered in dirt, her lip already cut from a few scrapes from the door and subsequent fall.

“I don’t know,” he replied, looking around as footsteps thudded up behind him.

“What in the world…” came Abdul’s voice. “We’re alright,” Teo cut in as he glanced back and noted the flimsy remains of the large expanse of door that had once stood at the entrance. It was now nothing, but bits of timber connected on a chain, as the rest had collapsed onto some of the warriors.

Teo looked on as they pushed themselves up, grinning. “Lucky it was rotten, if it hadn’t been it could have killed some of that lot,” Abdul observed.

“Indeed!” Teo replied. “Right, come on, send up a dargo from your unit to search the top floor and the roof of this place and send a runner back to Nicholas telling him to hold at the bottom of the ramp and have his lads look after our horses.”

With Abdul gone Teo turned back to face the odd room.

“This way,” he indicated with his left hand as he pulled his blade from his hip and stepped gingerly over a small half-skeleton the size of a dog. With no further thought for the creepy room, he headed over to the left and a smaller iron door, approximately half the width of the main door.

“Ester, get your lot and break those chains!” Teo ordered. He stepped back to let the group have a fair go at the job as they set about breaking the cables and the large bronze lock on the door. After a few unsuccessful attempts with axes and a crowbar the group, under Ester’s stern eye, broke through. Teo pushed past them onto the second ramp. It was steep and ran to a breathtaking height. The sleekness of the ramp’s design and material momentarily took him aback. It would only allow five people to cross breast-to-breast and was high enough off the ground that if anyone fell, they would most likely be injured severely if not killed. The surface of the bridge had been polished smooth and showed the wickedness of its creator; in normal circumstances it would be easy to cross but if the footing became slippery with any liquid substance, with blood or rain, then a large body of enemy trying to force their way across would result in chaos that would be devastating for any attacker.

Genius strategy impressively made! Teo found himself nodding in admiration as he stepped warily across the high expanse towards the third gate, a large iron construction that was, to his surprise, open. Teo could see that Matas and a few of his warriors had managed to clamber on to the brickwork of the main wall.

“Come on, we’re almost there!” Teo roared, racing through the entrance into a small, open courtyard with sheer, vertiginous drops to the valley below on each side of the walkway. A fourth gate on the opposite side was also open. Teo could see, now that he was inside, that the main wall ran behind him, along the top of the courtyard which was an area obviously designed as the most devastating killing zone imaginable. The four sides of the yard all had firing positions from the main wall to side walls which ran at an acute angle from the main wall. Teo could see the bend in the stout, strong blocks.

“It was a sadistic bugger who put this place together,” Abdul called from behind as Teo carried on through the second gate and into the fortress itself, which opened up before them with a large open yard at least three hundred metres in width and five hundred in length. It led to the base of the keep with its single massive spire, leading up to the sky above them, the white stone reflecting the morning sun from its glossy structure.

Chapter Four: The Fhorans

The only construction within the open space inside the main walls was a huge single fountain placed in the centre. Teo, allowing his raised sword to swing down to his side, heard a faint clink echoing out as the tip connected with the stone slabs under foot. The fountain was a four-sided affair with the image of a large dragon rearing up from the water, its huge mouth agape in defiance. The black marble or rock looked ancient; As if the dragon had been here before the fortress was built, Teo thought as he walked towards it. Not even the faint call of his friend Matas from the main wall to his left could break his stride forwards to investigate this. The strange rock that the fountain was made from looked almost identical to the rock of the mountains that cradled the grand fortress in their bosom.

“What the–? “Teo muttered, stepping close to the fountain. Where there should have been water, a black thick substance shimmered, reflecting almost a mirror image back of himself and Abdul behind him.

“What is this?” The disgust in Abdul’s voice was palpable as the young warrior stared down into the strange liquid. “I don’t know.” Teo stared down in wonderment, allowing his hands to be drawn forwards…

“CONTACT!!” Teo felt his body go tense and his heart pump, as the single shout was taken up by all the warriors in the courtyard. The inhuman screams that erupted from the far side of the courtyard drove the very air out of Teo’s lungs. Pulling back from the strange black ‘water’ he spun around to his right to see one of the most haunting scenes Teo had ever seen. Thousands of fhorans emerged in a wave of desecrated and decomposed human remains, some shuffling, some sprinting across the open void between them and the band of four hundred warriors down in the courtyard.

“By the gods!” Teo heard Abdul mutter next to him as he surveyed the hellish vista in front of him. Intermingled with the wave of human misery Teo spotted the soulless corpses of ogres lumbering out of the blackness from what he realised must be a cave or undercut lining the entire right-hand side of the keep. The hill on which the keep had been built must have been excavated, explaining why there were no buildings in the courtyard; they must all be underneath in the cave. Teo shook his head to refocus to the current situation.

“Form up on me!” he blared out, stepping back a few feet, putting some distance between the strange fountain and where his warriors would make their stand.

As fast as humanly possible the four hundred men and women under Teo and Abdul formed up either side of them, three deep to his left and right. Teo looked along the line of grim faces. Most people in the North would have come into contact with the rancid fhorans at some point, the husks of humanity, and of the other races, that had their souls and life blood drained away by the ancient Awens, the oldest of all the races. Teo knew instantly that this must be their work; the sheer number of fhorans heading for them reinforced this view, as they didn’t normally move in such large numbers.

“Form square!” Teo roared and heard the reassuring shuffle of boots behind him as warriors fanned out along the sides and behind. The fhorans’ only method of attack was the mob. If these husks broke through, they would claw and bite, tearing apart the men and women around him. Teo knew, he had seen it before. He barked out his next order

“Shield front!” and heard in response the rhythmic slap of wood on bronze and steel ripple along each side of him as the varied shields the warriors had brought with them were slammed together.

“Third line, draw bows and prepare to fire, second rank watch for breakthroughs and crawlers, I don’t want one of these ugly buggers taking a chunk out of my ankle or there will be hell to pay!” Teo heard the nervous laughter around him, steadying their nerves as he intended. “Here goes!” he muttered to himself, thrusting himself out from the shield line.

The hissing, screaming and thundering of the thousands of fhorans in front of him disappeared, and a strange calmness descended over him. He took a deep breath and one step forward, then another. The fhorans had covered around three hundred metres now, the leaders were almost on him, and he knew what needed to be done. Turning his back on the sea of death behind him, Teo looked into the faces of the men and women of the North who had pledged their lives to him such a short time ago, the dread and fear leaving him like some minor illness easily shrugged off.

“Friends, stand tall, we are Northerners; we are the Riders of the North! Men, women, this will not be where we fall!” He sensed a surge of resilience sparking from the warriors behind their shields. He ducked under the wild swing from the first fhoran, a tall lanky ex-male whose jaw had completely disappeared, along with a large portion of his left side. Teo smiled grimly as the desolate creature looked back at him with its sunken eyes and tight flesh.

“Warriors, you have nothing to fear!” Teo roared, punching the fhoran in the face and sending the creature smashing down to the ground.

“We are lions, hear us roar!” he yelled as he slammed his right boot down hard on to the fhoran’s head, the shrill scream mercifully cut short as it splintered under the hard sole. The creature’s dark matter spilled out into a thick, oozing puddle on the floor. He turned as another fhoran hissed and lunged at him; this time it was a small woman whose skin from her hips to just under her eyes had gone, exposing bone and the foul eroded contents of her chest cavity. Teo grabbed the woman’s head, and with all the strength he could muster he ripped the skull from her spine so violently that it came off with a pop, sending the skull skywards and in an arc into the fountain. He slipped back in-between two shields, panting from the task, as the fhoran wave smashed into the front ranks.

“That was quite an exhibition!” Abdul laughed, patting Teo on the back. “Something needed to be done, is all,” Teo gasped, pulling his sword from his scabbard.

“Abdul, stay here and make sure the archers keep working. Pull ten warriors out and tell them to move any injured to the centre and look after them.” Without waiting for a response Teo turned and moved back to where he had just been standing in the line, pushing warriors out of his way as he took up his place back in the centre of the front line.

” Come on, then, you ugly sons of whores...” he roared, kicking a small fhoran off its feet and slamming the hilt of his sword down into the skull with a resounding thud. As the fhoran’s eyes rolled back in to the remains of its head Teo pulled the blade free with a wet squelch. Glancing down either side of the line he could see the Northerners were having the better of the fight, going hammer and tongs with their blades and axes into the exposed flesh of the mass of human husks in front of them.

“Destroy their heads!” Teo roared around him, brandishing his swords as the fhorans whose arms or legs had been hacked off got back up. He watched as one Northerner, thinking he had dispatched the fhoran at his feet, was rudely reminded that he hadn't as the fhoran in question reared up, biting down hard with its exposed teeth into the man’s thigh and taking out a large chunk of flesh. The fhoran was oblivious to its injuries and continued chewing the ragged flesh from the man’s leg until a hammer smashed down on it, exploding the head and leaving only the tattered remains of its bottom jaw with bits of flesh hanging from it. Teo grabbed a fhoran in front of him, snapping the creature’s head to the right and forcing the rim of his shield forwards and up into the exposed windpipe. Any other opponent would have dropped to the ground immediately, closing an airway has that effect, but with this creature nothing happened, as it had no need for air.

It staggered back into a mass of its kind who pushed on forwards up against Teo’s shield. The wide swings and long-handled weapons of the Northerners were now useless; it had become a shoving match, and the fhorans had the extra weight.

“Hold firm!” Teo yelled over the noise of screams and curses, accompanied by the strange moans from the fhorans around them, but he could see it was hopeless; the straight wall of shields was already beginning to bulge inwards as different pockets of fhorans began gaining ground.

Teo knew the formation would collapse at any second.

“Abdul, take the rear rank and fall back against the wall behind,” Teo ordered above the ensuing chaos around them.

“Are you sure, Commander?” Teo heard the strained voice of his new friend almost directly behind him. “Do it, we can’t hold!” Teo responded as his feet began to slide and scuffle across the floor under him. He looked along the disjointed line; already some fhorans were slipping around the sides, following the retreating warriors.

“You, Simmion, isn’t it?” Teo called to the older warrior behind him. “Yes, Commander.” “Good, Simmion, run back to Nicholas, you have to be fast, and don’t get caught by one of those things. Tell him to ride up and bring all the horses. He knows what to do. Then climb up in the gatehouse and cross over on to the main wall, get Matas and Aled to form up along the wall above us, all the way to the keep. Tell them I need it to rain, do you understand?” Teo looked around face-to-face with an obviously scared Simmion. “Do you?” Teo looked deeply into the warrior’s eyes with his piercing, cold stare.

“I do, Commander, I do!”

“Well, go! Hurry, I need them!” Teo managed to flash a smile before turning back to the fight in front of him. With no one at his back, Teo felt his own strength waning against the insurmountable odds.

"Lions!" he roared, "On the count of three I want one heavy lunge forwards then run like hell back to the rest of the warriors, understand?” The loud grunt was enough, Teo thought.

“One…” The warriors around him started to sway “Two…” The screams and shouts of the ravenous horde in front of him drifted away, the snarling skinless faces snapping silently at him over his shield. “THREE!!” Teo, along with the fifty other warriors, released an animalistic grunt of rage as all their fear, tension and strength went into one wild, heavy push.

It felt as if time slowed down all along the line. Fhorans of all different sizes seemed to fly backwards as the wicked Northern steel blades flashed out at snake-like speed, sending a mass of fhorans tumbling down on to the hard stone below.

Then, without a word of command, the Northerners were gone, sprinting with death at their heels, back towards their comrades. Teo slowed as much as he dared to, allowing his men and women to gain a few steps ahead of him as the turbulent mass of hatred behind them spilled forwards once more. Moving through the corpses of their dead, the fhorans rushed after them. The presence of death bearing down on them spurred all the warriors forward. Teo, bringing up the rear, found it lent wings to his heels, allowing him and his warriors to slide to safety into the close-packed ranks of the rest of the four hundred.

“You took your time!” Abdul admonished with a smile, clasping hands with Teo once more. “Aye, we need to stop meeting like this!” Teo responded with swift humour.

The fhorans were back at them again, smashing into the closed shields, arms pulling at anything in reach. The vicious swords and axes of the Northerners whipped out, dispatching one after another.

Teo smashed his own sword down across the shoulders of a fhoran that had thrown itself at a warrior next to him, sending both of them sprawling to the ground. A fhoran to his right was quickly dealt with as Teo reversed the blade hilt, planting it first into its face then switching the blade around and ramming the blade up through the creature’s ribs until it popped out of its head with a dull crack. He could feel the coldness of the fhoran’s innards slap over him.

A strange sensation, he thought, as another fhoran lashed out at him, forcing him back a step before a spear from behind spliced through the fhoran’s eyes socket. We have the upper hand, he concluded, nodding thanks to the Northern spearman who had just made the throw.

The fact that the fhorans had no weapons was a blessing, though he noted that a warrior, a little too cocky, had stepped out of the battle line to kill a downed fhoran. This refocused Teo’s mind as he saw two fhorans, heedless of the wounds being inflicted on them, grab the young warrior, pulling him out of the line and onto the ground. His shrill screams were mercifully short as the fhorans around him ripped the warrior limb from limb in the space of a heartbeat.

The fhoran that the dead warrior had tried to kill reappeared, holding the warrior’s head in its hand of bone. Teo looked at the grotesque face, at the expression of shocked surprise on it, the neck tendrils hanging down from the jagged flesh where the brutal strength of the fhoran’s hands and mouth had torn it off.

They kept coming and Teo realised that he had called it too soon; their ‘upper hand’ was slipping.

"We need to move!" he shouted over the din to Abdul on the left-hand side. Abdul's gesture of frustration was mirrored by Teo's own; both could see from the drained faces of the warriors that through their sheer numbers the fhorans were eventually going to win. Teo forced himself out of the line, swinging his blade this way and that, dispatching fhorans all around as he tried to open a gap that his men could exploit.

Just as he felt his own arms beginning to succumb to the burn, and his thrusts and swings were losing momentum, a barrage of arrows ripped through the ranks of husks in front of them. He looked up at Matas and Aled above him on the high wall. As he turned his head a fhoran close to him was laced through the face by an arrow.

A noise like the rumbling of a rock fall could be heard. Suddenly, erupting though the gates, came a sea of horses, the first four hundred riderless, followed by two hundred riders with bows drawn, led by Nicholas. Teo felt weariness taking over as he succumbed to the energy drain, falling to his knees with relief and gratitude etched over his face as Nicholas rode the fhoran ranks down, aided with some carefully aimed arrows from above, the hooves of the horses, raging through the mass of fhorans, destroying them in a brief, brutal moment.

“Abdul!” Teo cried out. Abdul skidded up next to his kneeling commander. “Bring twenty of your men with me. Mine and the rest can stay here and clean up the area with Nicholas.” Abdul bowed and ran off. Teo deftly turned to see Nicholas and his riders finishing off the fhorans from astride their steeds; the battle had been turned an instant. Always the way of war, Teo thought with relief.

He pushed himself back on to his feet just as Abdul returned with twenty warriors at his back

“Matas, meet me in the keep on the first floor!” Teo called across the area to the big ginger Northerner. From the top of the wall Matas gave a brief wave of acknowledgement before turning and barking at his men to follow him as he set off along the main wall to where it joined the huge keep.

Teo set off with Abdul and their men at his back across the huge open yard, now littered with the dead and dying, the small remaining pockets of fhorans that had some movement in them flailing about. They headed for the giant black metal doors to the keep that towered up to at least a quarter of the massive mountains around it. Teo couldn’t fathom how far you would be able to see from the top.

Chapter Five: Awens Awake

Teo was first in, kicking the rusty side door embedded in the large steel door off its cracked hinges. The afternoon light behind shone in over his shoulder, illuminating a large high-roofed entrance with a thick red carpet running to the bottom of two large, dark wooden staircases. They peeled off right and left in turn, then curved up to a large balcony on the second floor.

“Look at this!” Abdul whistled, as he looked up at the arched roof above them.

“Wait until you see this!” Teo squawked with disbelief as he saw that just behind the high arched roof of the entrance, before where the stairs started, the roof rose up, not just a little like the entry point, but all the way up through the tower to a domed roof vault, barely within sight, at the very top. Abdul stood gazing up in bewilderment.

“How can man build such a place?” he exclaimed. “I don’t think it was man,” Teo gulped, stepping on to the thick black staircase leading up to the second floor. As Teo reached the second floor, he jumped at the sound of a loud crash on his left as a large wooden door burst open, revealing a dirty and grit covered Matas in all his glory, a large axe in his hands, “Are we late? Haven’t missed anything, have we?” He beamed at them, through his thick beard.

“No, just right, now come on!” Teo commanded, setting off down the long corridor to their right that ended in a spiral staircase wide enough to put to shame some of the grandest of staircases in all the provinces. “You men, here!” Teo pointed to twenty warriors to take the floor and search the rooms. He leapt up the stairs. The jingling and stomping behind signified the rest of the men were following him.

He dropped another twenty on the second floor, carrying on up the stairs at the opposite end to arrive on an open floor with high arches and long tables. Here there was a raised dais facing them at the far side. This is the main hall, then, thought Teo.

“You!” He pointed to a group of fifty or so warriors. “Stay here. If anything comes down that isn’t us, kill it, understand?”

Teo watched as the warriors nodded with worried expressions.

“Good, come on!” he ordered the rest and carried on, following the red carpet that was laid over each stair. He arrived at the next staircase to find a single corridor flanked by hundreds of doors. “You lot, clear these rooms, go at them one at a time.” He turned to continue.

“What’s going on, Teo, what are you looking for?” Matas asked as the rest carried on down the corridor towards the next staircase.

“Matas, if I’m right about what’s here we need to be careful. I worry about this lot finding them and not us.” Matas looked at him quizzically but followed on as Teo bounded up the next flight of stairs.

Up the fifth staircase Teo could feel the building narrowing. “We must be getting high,” he called, carrying on into a fairly large, open plan room with a fine wood floor and large bookcases running along all the walls. In between the bookcases there were huge windows with large panes.

“Phew!” remarked Matas, kneeling on a stone slab running underneath one of the windows. “Look how high we are!” Teo didn’t bother to look; he was preoccupied with checking for hidden enemy.

“Abdul, leave your twenty here on watch; if anything comes down, apart from us, kill it. If we don’t return or you hear anything odd you seal the door and get Aled and Nicholas up here.” Teo looked into the worried warrior’s eyes.

“Always keep someone watching it!” Teo called as he crossed over to a slim, spiral staircase. It was beautiful, with its intricate relief of some battle scene on it which Teo couldn’t identify.

He looked up to a thick wooden hatch in the ceiling, at the top of the staircase. He realised as he pushed the hatch open that the centre piece was of a dragon. He and the reduced group of thirty or so carried on up into the tower, coming to a floor which contained a narrow, boxlike contraption. “What’s this, then?” Matas looked appalled at the pulleys and slings.

“It’s a lift,” Abdul chuckled, stepping onto the thick wooden board at the base of all the ropes. “I have seen one of these before. Useful engineering.”

“Look, this lot will have to take us up, what do you think, Commander?” he called across to Teo who looked the board and rigging over; surprisingly it all seemed brand new.

“Yes, Matas, Abdul and I will go first, that’s all it can hold, then you lot get it down and work out who is coming next. But don’t mess about; we may need you up there quickly.” Teo stepped onto the board next to Abdul and Matas as the rest of the warriors began to pull on the ropes. The sensation of being lifted was quite different from anything the three warriors had ever felt before as they rose up slowly through the dark spiral.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was just minutes, the lift came to a stop in a brass-covered cage.

They reached a strangely lit room. Abdul quickly pulled aside the door and the three warriors stepped out to walk through an arch and into a large room with a stout, stone floor into which was set a large fire-pit.

The upper part of the wall and the roof were made of glass and formed a domed shape. Teo gasped at the view around them. By now the sun was going down and the evening sunlight glinted between the metal panels that kept the amazing glass dome intact.

"Sooooo, Teo Lionsmayne, we wonderrrrred when you would come." Teo, Abdul and Matas froze as five shapes, which the warriors had thought were rugs on the floor rose up to their feet.

“This is what I was worried about!” Teo whispered as he faced the five ancient Awens that had lived here since the death of the keep’s previous owner. The covenant of this band was of evil intent; they had spent the past thousand years feeding and building the army that the warriors had just destroyed.

Teo knew some of the stories about the Awens. He knew that there were three ancient races; The Great Hounds of the North; The Awens; and the Builders/Destroyers. The Awens were vampiric feeders that took souls and blood as a life source to live on as immortals. The army below had been their cattle.

The Great Hounds of the North had fought a war against the Awens before the time of man, or even of Elves, and had forced the Awens into the mountains around the world.

The third race, the race of world builders and destroyers, had long since faded into legend and fable, although the dragons had left their mark.

Teo looked at the Awens opposite him, at the featureless faces of these grey creatures; at their gaping mouths, with fangs but no tongues, fangs that dragged the very life out of people, and at their long arms that ended with large claws.

“Demons!” Matas roared, breaking the magic . “We will kill you and feed you to the carrion eaters!” he yelled, oblivious to the childish note of terror in his voice.

“Will you, Matas? We know of you, as we know of you, Abdul. We know of all of you. We know what your joys are, what your dreams are, and what your nightmares are.” At that the five Awens screamed a blood-curdling scream and Teo felt himself drowning under water, the surface covered in fire, underneath inky tendrils wrapping around him so there was nowhere to go but death. He gasped as the very air drained out of him.

“Noooo!” he yelled, forcing his mind back to reality, breaking the Awens’ magic: “I fear nothing, you demons!”

He looked to his sides. Matas was on the ground, rolling from side to side, shouting,

“Get it off, get it off!” like a terrified child. Teo turned and slapped his big friend hard across the face. “Matas!” he shouted as he pulled the bullish warrior to his feet.

“Get them off me, Teo, get them off me!” pleaded Matas. Teo could see the terror in his friend’s eyes. “They’re everywhere, they’re… they’re going to eat me!”

Teo stood up and with as much force as he could muster, he punched Matas straight in the face, sending the gibbering, crying wreck to the ground in a heap. Then he turned to push the petrified Abdul out of the way of an Awen’s strike. “Abdul, come on!” he yelled in desperation, ducking under a rabid grip from another. Pulling his sword from his belt, Teo turned to face the five Awens.

“What do you have to face me with except fear?” he roared, charging the nearest Awen, sending both of them crashing to the ground. Teo rolled on over the Awen, striking down as hard as he could at its featureless face. At the last second, one of the other Awens smashed Teo’s sword aside, sending it skidding across the floor to crash into one of the ancient, ornamented bookcases that lined the room. A third Awen picked Teo up with ease and threw him across the room after it. Teo collided with an explosion of breath into one of the thick panels of glass. He felt a shard of the glass enter his cheek, a thick stream of blood rushing down his face as he pulled himself back to his feet.

“Aha, smell the life blood of someone so honourable! You alone would sustain us for some time; we would not need to hunt and feast upon the rest of your men, but where would the fun be then?” The Awen cackled a laugh that seemed to drag the very life out of Teo’s body.

“You’ll have to kill me first!” he retorted, pulling both his daggers from his back straps and charging the nearest demon. The Awen tried to duck but Teo anticipated the move, slamming both blades into the creature’s face, just where the eyes should have been. The Awen’s scream was ear-splitting as it struck out and sent Teo flying across the room again, to land just a few feet away from where the shrieking shape was staggering around. A strange black blood oozed out of its unnatural face.

“Kill him, kill him!” it shrieked at the others, who closed in. Teo pulled his last dagger from his boot just as Matas’s axe flew in, slamming into the back of the furthest Awen and sending the demon crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust.

Abdul struck next, ramming his sword through the third Awen’s back. Black ooze that hissed and bubbled erupted from the creature’s chest.

The Awen shrieked, a blood-curdling scream of pain, as it tore itself from Abdul’s grasp, lashing out with its right hand and ripping across Abdul’s face, gashing to the bone his nose and cheek down to his chin. Abdul collapsed to the ground, a bloody mess, his face obscured by tissue and blood.

"Teo, watch out!” Teo ducked under an uninjured Awen’s desperate strike, and its claws ripped open his back, the searing pain rippling down his spine as fresh blood poured from the wound.

Matas threw the mighty axe that he had used to fell the first Awen across to Teo, who caught it and used its momentum to twist himself up and around at the Awen which was recovering from its strike.

Teo pushed all his power through the swing of the axe and silently sliced straight through the Awen’s neck, depositing its head and its hood a few metres away on the floor. Oddly, the Awen’s body stood for a second before collapsing onto the ground in heap. Teo turned as another Awen, smashed back by Matas’s boot, fell into the large fire-pit; the demon instantly caught alight, and it shrieked and span around the room, knocking its covenant ally, the final Awen that Abdul had run through, so that it smashed through the glass earlier weakened by the impact from Teo’s body. The Awen made no noise as it fell to certain death below.

“Come here, you ugly son of¬ –" Matas roared, kicking the flaming Awen through the new opening that the other had made. This one did scream, but its cry was cut short by the wind that blew at this height.

Teo turned to face the last Awen, the one he had stabbed in the face moments earlier. The Awen was hunched over, cowering against an overturned table, its grey face covered in black ooze with Teo’s daggers still protruding from the jagged mess they had created.

“You humans think you have won, do you?” It croaked at them, flinching as one of its grotesque talons probed the mess of its face.

“You think you have defeated us! The Awen are as old as time, we are an immortal race; you think destroying five of us will stop what’s coming? He is coming back and the Awen will have our rightful place returned to us, the dead city will rise again!” At this it leapt up, clasping its hands together in a bright golden light as all the air in the room was sucked in towards it. With a final release of its hand it was gone, with a shockwave that smashed all the panes in the tower top.

The glass showered them and Teo jumped to cover the motionless bodies of Abdul and Matas, dropping to the floor and covering his face.

The air grew calm, and the gentle whistle of the wind returned. Teo looked up and moved to check that Abdul and Matas were still alive. Matas began to move but Abdul remained motionless.

“Abdul, are you with us, are you all right?” Teo gently shook him. There was a pause, then Abdul muttered, “I’ll still do better than you with the ladies, despite my little cut…” Abdul’s laboured breathing grew louder as he opened his left eye.

Teo felt enormous relief and tears sprang up in his eyes as he collapsed next to his new friend.

“You had me worried there, Abdul,” he laughed, as they helped each other up to a sitting position. “Don’t touch it.” Teo swatted Abdul’s hand away from his face, ripping part of his shirt off and wrapping it around Abdul’s head. “We need to get this sorted out, come on.” Teo helped Abdul up to his feet, just as the lift door opened and four burly warriors rushed out, swords drawn, to help.

"About bloody time!" Matas called to them before wincing at the cut under his eye.

“Come on, Matas, give a hand,” Teo called over as he supported Abdul. But Matas was inspecting something.

“Look at this,” he said as he turned, grinning, and placed a long black sabre in Teo’s good hand. The edge of the blade was a startling mirror of silver, sharper than anything Teo had ever seen, and strange letters were embedded into the metal.

“What is this?” Teo asked as he looked the long blade up and down.

“It’s yours, I think,” Matas smiled. “This will be a fine sword, fit for a new lord with a new keep.”

Teo looked down at the blade, then his gaze was drawn out over the dazzling view from the top of the spire to where the green grass of the North abruptly ended; moved further across to where the green was replaced with the grey-black sand and brown grass of the barrens in the distance. He could see the outline of the city of the dead, far to the northwest.

“It will rise again.” Teo repeated the Awen’s words before turning back to the room, where the four warriors had spread out and were searching the destroyed tower top.

"Matas, let's get Abdul to a healer, then we can check on our injured and start to fix this place up. Stephan will not be far away with the craftsmen and women that we need.” Matas nodded, taking Abdul’s full weight from the injured Teo's grip.

Teo turned back, glancing at the new blade in his hand. It needed a pommel. Maybe Anomie will inspire the design for that, he thought. As he smiled with relief that the battle was over, he felt something watching him from afar, dragging his eyes up, away from the blade. Teo looked out at the distant city he could just see through the haze.

This is just the beginning, he said to himself quietly.