***

  The Red Lady smiled at the feeble show of defiance from this, her last opponent. Some part of her calculating mind considered using this specimen as breeding stock, after all he had demonstrated surprising virility in the face of unconquerable odds.

  Would such a fate be a worthy tribute to those that had fallen?

  Would her anguish be eased by seeing her line repopulated by the seed of her conqueror?

  She pushed the thoughts away.

  No, this time only blood would satiate her.

  She lifted her sword and made a forward motion, only to pause.

  The wind kicked up again, this time harder, and the force of it caused the Red Lady almost to stumble.

  Off balance?

  She tilted her head to the side and took her gaze away from her reeling opponent.

  As she righted herself, she felt the hairs on her arms begin to rise.

  Her tactile sensations were improving, but the sensation was not pleasant. The warrior numbness that had possessed her had begun to recede. Suddenly she felt weakness entering her limbs.

  She glanced about, frantically now, and noticed at the edge of the battlefield that the mystical shadow which had brought her victory had started to recede.

  The Shadow was leaving them!

  Turning back to Match Hed Ged, the Red Lady opened her mouth in a feral scream.

  The exhausted warrior simply watched it all in confusion.

  The Red Lady could not bear it. So close to her vengeance, her triumph was being stolen from her. Summoning her last vestiges of strength, she dove forward, sword swinging wildly...

  But there was opposition!

  The Red Lady’s sword stopped in the air as if halted by a wall of invisible stone.

  Match Head Ged watched the lady’s struggles with a perplexed expression.

  The wind grew in strength, but it seemed only to affect the remaining members of the Red Army. They lifted up their arms in futile resistance, but the force of the gusts pushed them back. One by one they began to stumble and roll to the center of the battle field. An unnatural blackness was developing there, some kind of dark vortex that seethed with a primordial hunger.

  The Red Lady saw the portal and gasped. As she watched, one of her soldiers was sucked into it. With a flash of light, the man was gone. Transported to oblivion.

  “No!” The Red Lady cried. This she could not bear! To come so close to the final retribution for her losses only to have her moment of triumph robbed from beneath her outstretched hand.

  She could not allow it!

  She dove against the driving wind, her fingers reaching out—claw like. The scratching nails quested for the face of Match Head Ged. Tickling the air before his face as she pushed ever forward. Inch by inch until the tip of the nail of her index finger grazed the face of her opponent...

  But not even with sufficient force to leave a scratch.

  “No!” The Red Lady screamed, but by then the strength of the magical portal had grown to such strength that even a mother’s quest for revenge paled by comparison.

  The wind took her off her feet and hurtled her towards the gaping maw.

  There was a flash and she was gone.

  With her banishment, the portal ceased, disappearing without a whisper.

  Silence ensued.

  Match Head Ged watched it all, not understanding what had happened. But realizing that the Red Lady was gone and all the iniquitous things at her command had disappeared. Air hadn’t left his body for a number of moments, as if the breaths were terrified if they left they would never be drawn back into his lungs again. But slowly they emerged like frightened children afraid of the dark now stepping out into a world that felt warm and bright once again.

  It was then that Ged noticed that the sun shone in the sky once more and never in his whole life had it felt so warm, so welcoming on his skin. The air once a deathly silent was hummed by the sound of heavy breathing, not just his own but the breaths of the few hundred Sack Swords that still lived. They seemed to breathe in unison, like a rhythm of weary relief.

  With the warmth on his face and the soothing sound of the breathing rhythm his thoughts turned to where the shadow had shrunk towards, not Ebulon, but somewhere far off where his eyes couldn’t reach.

  “Ged!” the voice was weary and strained yet the relief in its tone strengthened it. Ged struggled to turn, but he was glad that he did. Eraloi was still alive and judging by the blood that covered her and the battering of her weapon, she had fought just as bravely as she always had.

  “We survived,” Ged gasped out, his body sapped of most of its strength. He fell onto the blood soaked ground from sheer exhaustion and though he had passed out, his breathing was loud and clear.