"The enemy approaches!" shouted a scout as he rode towards Demnor.
The men mounted their horses, which seemed a bit spooked. Demnor was
no exception. Eager to view the brash enemy, who would face them well
before the real battle, Demnor charged to the front of the slowly
building formation. He crested a small hill. What he saw surprised
him. An army of dark troops clad in foreign armor marched steadily
out of a bizarre cloud of darkness.
"Triple wave!" Demnor ordered. "Hold your ground! This town will
not fall to foreign invaders!"
The approaching army gathered into a mob and waited a good distance
away. Demnor inspected his ranks. Most were accounted for. A senior
warrior pointed out something to Demnor. There was a hovering shape
above the enemy troops. Demnor squinted. His eyesight was not
perfect at long distances, but he could make out something hanging in
the air. It looked like a man on a flying disk.
That is when it started falling into place. First there was the
creature that Myrlyn told him about.
Then there was the imp
he had slain. Now there was an dark mob and a floating shape.
The moons were at it again -
this much he was pretty sure of.
He'd needed Myrlyn.
"Fetch me Myrlyn." he called to the latest arrival to fall into
formation. He wave his left arm at the man and drew forth
Caliburn with his right.
Demnor watched the opposing force, but they made no move. He would
wait. Soon Myrlyn came flying in over the troops. His men cheered.
He smiled. Myrlyn would take care of this and then he, Demnor, would
lead in his men and destroy the dark army, or so he thought.
"Fall back to the south. There is an army camped just on the other
side of the Winchester River. Meet up with them there." called
Myrlyn from above.
It was a wise move, the better part of valor. Surely this army would
follow them and be destroyed at Winchester, but it was not to be for
the dark army seized upon the moment to thunder down upon them with
unmatched speed.
Luckily, the unit had not yet broken into a traveling formation. They
halted the initial charge and counter attacked. Demnor himself let
out a great cry and dismounted. A few men followed suit converting
themselves to stable ground soldiers. Demnor fought with great skill
and tremendous strength, killing all in his path. The other footmen
did not fare as well. They were outnumbered on the ground and mounted
soldiers provided less support than needed. Demnor's anger grew as he
watched his men fall. He fought fiercely and without error knowing
that his forces would win the day despite the cost. And so they did.
The dark troops fought to the end with no concern for their own
safety. Myrlyn returned as they were slaughtering the last of the
enemy.
"Myrlyn, did you defeat their leader?" he asked.
"Of course, not much of a fighter." Myrlyn muttered "A bit clumsy,
their wizard. He relied too much on his magic. He might have some
information..."
"Listen Myrlyn," he interrupted "his army has killed over a dozen of
my men and wounded scores more. I'll have his head. Bring me that
man's head."
Myrlyn agreed and
went off to complete the job.
Hours later he had not returned.