Chapter Twenty Nine - Showdown

Mara and Cynthia flew above the battle glancing down. Cynthia drew a sharp intake of breath as she watched the scene being played beneath her. There was the Varnhyme of the enemy, standing tall, his eyes glowing green, a startling contrast to the white of his beard and the midnight blue of his robe. It was if he was making the rocks of the ground dance in the heavens, and then falling as rain or hail or sleet onto the ground below. Yet when taking a closer look, Cynthia realised that it was not the ground to which he was dropping it on, but rather the heads and bodies of the soldiers in the army of King Eldor.

“Varderahyme!” she called below to him. “Varderahyme! Hear my voice, o messenger to the Faithful! Hear my voice, o Varnhyme, listen to me!” Then she turned to Mara. “Let me down, Mara, I must face him, and I must face him alone. Do what you can to help. May the Ruler of All be with us today.”

Mara nodded once and flew down closer, close enough for Cynthia to dismount. Before she turned to face the Varnhyme, she gave Mara a brief hug.

“Fly well, fight hard, and may you be blessed. For the King!” she murmured to Mara. Then she turned her attention back to the Varnhyme that stood before her.

“So, you have come to me at last, Valerahyme. As I knew you would. You shall one day kneel before me.”
“No, Varderahyme, I will not kneel before you. Nor will I serve you. You can not attack these soldiers any longer, Varderahyme.”
“Oh? Why not? Who will stop me?” he said tauntingly. “I have yet to see you use your powers, save to escape from those who are following you.”
“I will stop you, Varderahyme.” Then, she lifted her arms, and raised her head, her eyes turning from blue to green.
“You would dare to stop ME, Valerahyme? Think again, but you will kneel, and you will serve me. It is but a matter of time.”

Then he too lifted his arms, and raised his head, and his eyes also turned from their blue to a green. The battle of the Varnhyme had begun. The battle spoken of in prophecies of ancient lore, the battle that would seal the fate of the Varnhyme forever.

General Binks nodded to the soldiers who stood there. Together they rushed towards the army of King Eldor. With clashing of metal against metal, steel against steel, the swung their swords intent upon defeating their foe. Screaming shouts of “Duck!” they dove for cover as the beautiful ruby Ligon soared close to the ground.

She landed near King Eldor, where Octavian and Yoran were. Yoran immediately skewered the soldier nearest him with his embroidery needle, and bowed deeply to Mara.

“Where is Edmund?” Mara asked quickly, looking around.
“Over there he is,” said Yoran, nodding in the direction of the two fighting. “Fighting with DiCaprio, he is, a duel to the death.”
“Why?” said Mara, her red eyes glaring towards Edmund and DiCaprio. “He should not, he can not be that foolish.”
“Foolish or not, we can not dissuade him. It is his path to take, it is his destiny he must follow,” said Octavian.
“Indeed. Whether for good or for ill, at least we do not have DiCaprio personally attacking us,” nodded King Eldor.
“Then let us not waste the opportunity. Our friend General Binks seems intent on destroying us. Should we grant to him that pleasure?”
“Not today,” said Octavian, lifting his sword. “Today we fight! For Elenaesia and for the King!”

Octavian and Yoran together rushed at the enemy, calling on the soldiers of Elenaesia to aid them as they went about their attack. Today they would fight. They would not fail. They would fight with every last breath that was in them. They would defeat DiCaprio and his army, or they would die trying.

Edmund clenched his sword tighter, and spun, bringing his sword up to deflect the blow being sent by DiCaprio. He then swung his sword at the Duke, only to have DiCaprio parry and knock the sword away. Edmund twisted out of the way of the Duke’s next stroke and responded with one of his own.

At least this is keeping the Duke away from the rest of battle, he decided. I have to do it, to do it for Octavian, for Yoran, for King Eldor. And, for Kathryn. If not for anyone else, at least for Kathryn. I could not bear for her to live with DiCaprio as the king. All I want is the strength to defeat him, the strength to help us win.

Cynthia called upon all of her strength. She felt the wind blowing about her, threatening to blow her over.

“Wind of the skies, listen to my voice! Wind of the skies, hear thou my cry! Return from whence you came, trouble us no more! Ground of the earth, listen to my voice! Ground of the earth, hear thou my cry! Render unto thyself a crack, swallow up those who make ill use of their power, give unto them the satisfaction which they deserve to get.”
“Water of the heavens, listen to my voice! Water of the heavens, hear thou my cry! Fill these cracks with water, let them be full! Wind of the skies, listen to my voice! Wind of the skies, hear thou my cry! Return here, and use thou thy power to freeze up this water, and turn the cracks to ice!”

A battle between the two wills continued. Each one trying to outdo the other, each one being forced to think more and more creatively then they ever had before. Each one knowing that the outcome of this battle could determine the outcome of the battle all around. Cynthia held on, if only by sheer will power, and the passion for what she was doing. If she could destroy Draziw, she could save countless women and girls and babes throughout Elenaesia, those who were condemned to death for no reason other than their names. If she could destroy Draziw, she could help ensure victory for King Eldor. She could help ensure victory for Elenaesia, and defeat for Orlando DiCaprio, Duke of the Seventeens.

Releasing some of her mind briefly from her concentration on Draziw, she reached out towards the mind of a General Pevensie. Reaching into his thoughts, she twisted and cajoled, whispered and murmured. Then, satisfied with her work, she withdrew from his thoughts, and immediately had to bring all her strength to bear onto concentrating on Draziw.

“Fall back, fall back!” called General Pevensie to his men. “Fall back, I say! Turn towards the main part of the army of General Binks and charge with full might. Charge, I say, charge! Attack the infidel and traitor of a self styling General Binks Vizzini! Send him down to the depths! We shall prevail!”

The soldiers had been trained to obey, not to question their orders, so they obediently turned and charged into the soldiers under the command of General Binks, and began to attack them. At first General Binks’ soldiers were confused, but then they grew angry. Responding the only way they knew how, they began to defend themselves and attack General Pevensie’s men with great fervour and hatred.

“What is going on?” cried General Binks as he looked in dismay at the rather large amount of disarray that met his eyes. “What is happening? Why are the men under the command of General Pevensie attacking the men under my command? Why are we attacking each other? We have a common enemy we must unite against! What will Duke DiCaprio, er, King Orlando think if he finds this out?”