Verge of Darkness

  *******

   

  Moon rode up the incline, studying the ruins of the fortress that once occupied the brow of the hill. What remained of a wall, jutting up like broken teeth encircled the brow. The remains of guard-towers rose from less damaged sections of the wall. Riding under an arch, the Axeman craned his neck, looking up at the structure of time-eroded stone rearing high above him.

  Beyond the wall was a flat expanse of ground littered with the detritus of time. Stone blocks that had once made up the rearing battlements, lay strewn about as if flung in reckless abandon from a giant's hand. Here and there, Moon could see rusted iron helms of curious design, broken spears and rust-pitted swords.

  On the far side, the ruins of low walls and empty doorways, suggested what were once barracks that housed the men who had fought and died in this now derelict fortress. In the centre stood what was once the mighty Keep, its walls now splintered and sundered.

  Moon dismounted, tethered the stallion, and wandered over to the Keep. Stepping inside, he saw steps hugging a wall leading up to the battlements. Picking his way through the debris, he walked up to the steps.

  Peering up, Moon decided to climb up to the battlements. It would afford him a panoramic view of the surrounding countryside. He proceeded up, gingerly testing each step before placing his full weight on it. He knew he was taking a risk as the whole structure could collapse under his prodigious weight. He had to hurdle several sections where the steps had collapsed, and daylight gaped where sections of the wall were missing.

  Reaching the top, he stepped onto the crenelated battlements. Treading carefully, lest the floor underfoot gave way, he moved along it. The view was breath-taking. Beyond the river to the north, was the green expanse of the Lysand woods. He could see the rolling green hills he had traversed earlier, and way in the distance he could make out the snow-covered peaks of his homeland.

  The land to the south was relatively flat. He saw a slow-moving column of people moving in his direction. Some distance behind them were what appeared to be dogs or wolves, and men moving with great speed. They seemed to be chasing the column.

  Moon’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward to look closer. He didn't think wolves or dogs grew to that size. Even the great shaggy white wolves of the Northir Mountains were small in comparison to these beasts, and he had never known wolves to chase a large column of people. And what he had first thought were men moved like no men he had seen before.

  A shiver ran down the back of Moon's neck. There was strange work at play here. Though he hadn't paid much credence at the time, he remembered Cabris’s talk about demons plaguing Petralis. The convoy was coming from the direction of the city. He mouthed an obscenity, for they were moving toward him.

  It appeared they were unaware of their pursuers for they hadn't sped up. Maybe he should sit tight and simply observe what transpired next from his eyrie. He had no desire to tangle with demons.

  He mouthed another obscenity. It didn't sit well with him to simply do nothing and observe the slaughter. And there were likely women and children with the convoy.

  Standing to his full height, he waved his arms, yelling loudly, hoping to catch their attention.

  Just when he thought his attempts were in vain, he saw a man in the lead wagon point in his direction.