Dragonslayer's Return
Chapter 8 An Oath to Sir Cedric

The overcast dawn came quietly, with no more fighting along Tir na n'Og's southern border. Many men had been slain the previous night, and only a few elfs, but with Connacht's overwhelming odds, the Tylwyth Teg could hardly claim a victory.
Mickey spent the early morning with Diane, talking to her in great detail about the events of the last few weeks, and particularly about Gary's role in those events. While they were chatting, Gary and Kelsey wandered off. At first Diane was nervous about being left by Gary in this strange world, but Mickey's charming manner soon put her at ease.
She began to think about leprechauns, about the stories in her own world. Images of rainbows and pots of gold came to mind, and she fixed an intent stare upon Mickey, hardly hearing his words.
Mickey understood that look, had seen it from humans for years and years. He said nothing, figuring that she'd just have to learn for herself, and confident that if the woman came after him, he could easily evade her. To Diane's credit, her expression gradually softened and she relaxed back, the moment of greedy weakness passed. Mickey didn't miss the point, and he silently applauded the young woman.
Gary and Kelsey returned soon after, bearing heavy bundles and Gary holding the most incredible spear Diane had ever seen. She got up to her feet and moved near to him, running her hands over the flat part of the magnificent weapon's wide head.
"This is for you," Kelsey explained, putting down his bundle and turning it over so that a coat of fine, interlocking links of chain rolled out onto the grass.
Gary overturned his bundle as well, and the bulky plates of Donigarten's armor spilled onto the ground. Diane was staring open-mouthed at the fabulous armor -  of course Gary had described it to her in great detail, but seeing it was something altogether different! - when Kelsey approached her, the chain mail coat in hand.
"Put this on," he bade her. "Tir na n'Og has ever been a safe place for those whom the Tylwyth Teg name as a friend, but in these dark times, we cannot be sure."
While Kelsey turned to help Gary in strapping on the bulky pants, Diane slipped the metal jacket over her head. It was surprisingly light, no more encumbering than a winter coat, and though it was a bit tight about her chest and shoulders, the fit was acceptable.
"Suits ye well," Mickey remarked, and he gave a wink as Diane looked over to him.
Kelsey came over just long enough to offer Diane a belt and scabbard, holding a slender sword. The woman eyed it suspiciously, nervously.
"Take it," Kelsey instructed.
"Just in case," Mickey added, seeing the woman's dilemma.
Diane did as she was told. She handled the sword tentatively, strapping on the belt and eyeing Gary all the while. For the first time, she began to understand that they might be given specific assignments by the leaders of the elfish resistance, that they might be separated. And with a sword strapped around her waist, Diane could hardly ignore the possibility that she might see battle.
Gary had most of the armor on by then, and he returned Diane's stare, almost apologetically. Gary knew how Diane felt about violence, knew that she thought of war as an incredibly stupid exercise in futility. Whenever he had tried to tell her of the battles he had seen in Faerie, she had only half listened, waiting for him to get past the violence and back to the story.
"You will be shown to a guard position," Kelsey explained to Diane. "We have many prisoners, and can spare few of our warriors to watch over them."
Diane didn't stop looking at Gary, and didn't blink.
"Gary Leger will accompany me," Kelsey went on, understanding her questioning look. "His presence will bolster the defense of the forest and bring fear to our enemies."
Diane's look quickly turned sour, and Gary flinched. Diane was wondering why he was apparently being given a more important role than she, he knew.
"I wear the armor of Cedric Donigarten," he said, as though that should explain it all.
"So I'll sit back here while you go off to fight," Diane retorted. "Like a good little wife." Gary flinched again, suddenly more afraid of the next time Diane got him alone than any horrors he might encounter on the battle lines.
"Be reasonable," he said. "You've got no idea of how to fight with a sword." "What about you?"
"I have the spear," Gary replied. "It talks to me, and has told me how to fight. I explained all of that to you a long time ago."
"Then let me use it," Diane stubbornly replied, though she knew that to be impossible, and didn't really want the blasted thing anyway.
Young sprout! came the sentient spear's telepathic scream of protest in Gary's mind.
"I think it's a chauvinist," Gary explained with a helpless shrug.
"She is strong-willed," Kelsey remarked after he, Gary, and Mickey had left Diane with the other guards, the three heading back to the south, where the fighting had renewed. The rain, too, had begun again, a heavy drenching downpour. Kelsey understood the implications of the storm; elfish wizards were in control of the weather over Tir na n'Og, and they were using the rain to douse fires set by Kinnemore's men. Given the strength of this storm, Kelsey figured that the assault on Tir na n'Og must be on in full.
"Lucky me," Gary answered, but his sarcasm was apparently lost on Kelsey.
"Indeed," the elf said sincerely.
Gary regarded Kelsey for a moment, then chuckled softly. Of course the Tylwyth Teg valued the role of the elfish females, he realized, and precisely because there was no defined "role" for elfish females. They fought alongside the males, led and followed. They went out on life-quests, as serious as the one Kelsey had undertaken to reforge Doni-garten's spear. In fact, that very morning Gary had learned that the King of the Tylwyth Teg was not a "King" at all, but a Queen, an elfish female who had ascended to the rather informal seat of power in Tir na n'Og through her leadership and battle prowess in a war a century before.
And it struck Gary, too, how complete a person Kelsey was. The elf could be the fiercest of warriors (Gary had seen that side) or the quietest of poets. Kelsey seemed equally at ease to Gary with a sword in hand or a flower. Gary nearly laughed aloud at the notion, thinking that the elf, without even trying, would surely fit into the "political correctness" of his own world. Within the society of the Tylwyth Teg, there were none of the preconceived notions, the barriers, sharply defining gender roles, and yet, their existence was certainly more primitive and harsh than Gary's society.
He'd have to spend more time thinking about that issue, he decided. It seemed to Gary that Kelsey held the answer to the frustrations of feminists and the confusion of men in his own world.
But he'd have to think about it later, a cry of pain from somewhere not too far ahead pointedly reminded him. The business now at hand was battle.
Kelsey went down into a crouch and signaled for Gary to hold steady. In an instant Kelsey was gone, disappearing into the heavy brush without a whisper of sound. Gary tensed, went down to one knee, then breathed easier as Mickey appeared atop his shoulder.
Mickey, whose senses were by far the keener, nodded ahead a moment later, signaling Kelsey's return. Again, Kelsey came through the brush without a whisper of sound. He looked to Gary, nodded, and held up six fingers, then motioned for the man to flank to the left.
Gary eased up and moved slowly and deliberately, though he felt awkward and noisy indeed compared to the graceful forest dance of Kelsey. He stopped when he felt the burden on his shoulder lighten, and a panicked look came over him at thethought that Mickey wouldn't be by his side.
"Easy lad, I'll be about," Mickey promised from a low branch just behind him.
Gary adjusted his great helm, which was far too loose-fitting, and moved on through the thicket, coming to the edge of a small and shady clearing beneath the thick boughs of a wide elm.
Patience, young sprout, came the spear's call in his head, and Gary agreed with the assessment and crouched low in the brush, waiting.
There came a groan from not so far away.
Patience, the spear reminded him once more, sensing Gary's desire to rush off and investigate. A few moments later, Kelsey came running through the brush, to the edge of the clearing to Gary's right. A leaning log marked that border, about waist high, but hardly a barrier to the nimble elf. Bloodied sword in hand, Kelsey dove headlong over the log, touched the ground with his free hand and ducked his head so that he rolled right over and right back to his feet. He crossed the clearing with a few graceful strides, lifted his arm and leaped up, catching the elm's lowest branch. He was gone in the blink of Gary Leger's astonished eye, rolling up around the limb and disappearing into the cover of the trees' thick boughs.
"There's only one!" came a cry, a human voice, not so far behind.
"Flank to the right!" called another.
Gary watched as three men came to the log. They slowly crossed the barrier, two crawling under, readied crossbows in hand, and the third scrambling over. These were trained soldiers, Gary realized, from the way they complemented and covered one another's movements. They entered the clearing cautiously, looking all about, particularly to the sheltering elm. The fully armored crossbowmen kept the lead, holding close to the brush and easing around to their left, towards Gary. The third man, wearing only a leather jerkin and holding no weapons that Gary could see, took up the rear, quietly directing.
The man looked to the right more than once, and Gary figured that his companions would soon be coming around the clearing, probably entering from the other side.
Gary wrung his hands nervously over the metal shaft of the great spear. His stomach was in knots; he felt like he had to go to the bathroom.
Easy, young sprout.
So nervous was he that Gary almost replied to the spear's reassurance out loud! He didn't know where Kelsey had gone off to, didn't know what Kelsey expected him to do. The soldiers were close to him then; he could leap out and likely take one of them down.
He wondered how good Donigarten's armor might be against a crossbow fired point-blank.
Gary's relief at seeing Kelsey's return lasted only the moment it took him to realize that the elf had just walked out from around the elm's trunk, right into the open! He opened his mouth and almost called out, then fell back and winced as the crossbows fired and Kelsey fell.
Now! the sentient spear implored him, and purely on instinct, Gary leaped from the brush, right before the two armored soldiers. He slashed the spear straight across in front of him, taking the blocking crossbow from the hands of the nearest man, crunching the crosspiece on the bow of the second man.
Back across came the slicing spear, and Gary blindly thrust straight ahead. The soldier almost dodged, but got hit on the shoulder. A normal weapon would have done little damage, would have merely deflected off the metal plating of the man's armor to ride high to the side. But Donigarten's hungry spear bit hard and the soldier's armor melted away, the spear's wicked tip diving deep into the man's shoulder. He fell to the ground, clutching the wound, writhing in pain.
Overbalanced to the right, Gary stopped his momentum and jabbed straight back with the butt end of the spear. He was aiming for the second soldier's belly, but the spear came in a bit low.
The new angle proved even more effective, though, and the soldier groaned and lurched, his eyes crossed with pain.
Gary retracted and whipped the butt end straight up, slamming the man under the chin, under the faceplate of his helm. He straightened and staggered back a step, but not out of range of the long weapon as Gary butt- ended him again, squarely in the faceplate.
Down he went, flat on his back, his feet skidding out from under him on the slippery grass.
Gary came up straight, spinning to his right to face the third man squarely. He screamed out and tried frantically and futilely to dodge the sliver of metal spinning his way.
The man's shot was near perfect, the dagger coming point in at Gary's faceplate. Its tip sliced through the slits in the great helm and gashed the side of Gary's nose and his cheek. He screamed again and fell away, and purely out of fear, purely on a survival reflex, he hurled the spear.
The man in the leather jerkin, another dagger in hand, threw his arms out defensively in front of him. The soaring spear crossed between them, though, and blasted right through the pitiful leather defense, right through the man's chest and back. He flew backwards, staggering many steps until he slammed against the log, where the spear tip bit again, through the dead wood, holding the dead man upright against it.
Gary, on the ground, one eye closed because of blood, the other teary, didn't see the hit. He was looking the other way, to the tree and beyond, where the missing two soldiers had entered the clearing and were looking over the fallen body of the elf, prodding the corpse with their swords.
At that moment, the real Kelsey dropped down from the boughs, right between them.
Gary didn't understand - until the image of the fallen elf dissipated into nothingness and Gary remembered that Mickey was not far away and that the leprechaun was especially proficient at crafting illusions of Kelsey. The soldiers were not caught unawares. Kelsey's sword darted straight ahead, but was turned aside. It came streaking right back in, at a lower angle, but was slapped downward by a perfect parry.
Left, right and left again, Kelsey snapped his sword, now on the defensive and blocking the press of the two soldiers. Back to the right came the elf's fine weapon, steel rang out against steel, and Kelsey thrust straight ahead, aiming low. The soldier recovered quickly enough to parry, his sword again coming down atop Kelsey's, driving the elf's blade harmlessly low.
Kelsey expected the block and went with it, moving his sword down and to the right, towards the tip of the blocking sword. Kelsey stepped right, as well, just out of the reach of the other soldier's lunge. A subtle twist of the wrist brought Kelsey's sword around the soldier's, and the elf promptly stepped ahead.
The soldier snapped his angled sword upward, trying to throw Kelsey's weapon high and wide. The elf's forward thrust was too quick, though, and Kelsey's fine sword cut into the man's breastplate, drawing a deep red line up his chest and forcing him to fall back.
The other soldier came in furiously and Kelsey just managed to, free up his blade and snap it across, deflecting his enemy's prodding sword when it was barely an inch from his side. Kelsey spun on his heel and launched a weak two-strike combination that had no chance of hitting. The maneuver bought him enough time to square up, though, putting his parries in line as the outraged soldier came forward once more.
The wounded soldier stubbornly stepped ahead, and worse, Kelsey heard the heavy footsteps of another enemy approaching from behind him. He plotted an evasive maneuver, a ducking spin that would allow him to swipe at the legs of the man coming in from the back and roll away from all three attackers.
But then the healthy fighter pressing the elf stepped back suddenly and dropped his weapon to the ground. He fell to his knees, swearing fealty to the memory of Sir Cedric Donigarten!
Kelsey batted away the weak swing of the wounded man, and looked back over his shoulder to see Gary Leger, weaponless and with blood running out from under his great helm. Obviously dizzy, Gary staggered stubbornly to join his friend.
"And what of you?" the quick-thinking Kelsey demanded, spinning back and thrusting his sword viciously at the wounded man. He batted the weak attempt at a parry aside and stood firm, his swordtip a foot from the man's wounded breast.
The soldier looked to his kneeling comrade, to the other two on the ground behind Gary and to the man standing limp, impaled against the log.
"Donigarten," he said quietly.
"On your word of honor!" Kelsey snarled, lunging ahead, closing the distance between swordtip and breast. "Swear fealty."
"To Donigarten," the man said again and dropped his sword to the dirt. "An oath to Sir Cedric."
Kelsey eased his sword away, his golden eyes continuing their unrelenting stare at the man. Finally, convinced that this one would cause no more mischief, Kelsey turned a sidelong glance at Gary.
"I'm all right," Gary assured him, lifting his arm to keep the concerned elf at bay.
Kelsey nodded and looked beyond him. "We have five prisoners," he explained. "For I injured but did not kill the man back in the woods."
Gary didn't have to look back to the log for the grim reminder that his spear throw had apparently claimed the only kill.
Mickey appeared then, atop the low branch just above them.
"A fine deception," Kelsey congratulated. "But temporary. My enemies would have been held longer off their guard if the illusion had held."
"I do what I can," Mickey replied, somewhat sourly.
"I have come to expect more of you," said Kelsey.
"And so ye got it," the leprechaun explained. "I was not so far away, turning aside another dozen o' the enemy. Suren the forest's thick with Kinnemore's army! And ye got four prisoners, not five, for the others found the man in the woods and took him off with them."
"Where are they now?" Kelsey demanded.
"Chasing yerself," Mickey explained. "Back the other way. Don't ye worry, I telled a fair amount o' yer kinfolk they'd be coming."
Kelsey nodded, Gary swayed, and the elf stepped over and offered him a supporting arm. He helped Gary sit down against the elm's thick trunk and gently removed the helm. The wound was superficial, though bloody and obviously painful. Kelsey reached into a pouch for some healing herbs, but Gary stopped him. "They need you more," Gary explained, indicating the Connacht soldiers. The one healthy man was trying to tend the other three.
Kelsey agreed with the observation and left Gary with a clean cloth and a vial of clear water. He started to clean the wound, and nearly swooned from the sharp pricks of pain. Mickey walked up next to him and took the cloth.
"Nasty nick, but not so deep," the leprechaun assured him. Despite Mickey's comforting words, Gary noted a good measure of tension in Mickey's voice. He studied Mickey closely, with the usually perceptive leprechaun too involved to even notice.
"Are there that many enemies in the forest?" Gary asked, thinking that to be the cause of Mickey's distress. "What's that?" Mickey asked, startled by the unexpected question. "Oh, no, lad, not too many for Kelsey's kin to fight off."
"Then what is it?" Gary demanded.
"There's some fires burning," Mickey answered.
"In this rain?" Gary could hardly believe it; the ground was near to flooding, and the tree branches sagged low under the pounding and unrelenting downpour.
"Our enemies got their means," was all that Mickey would say, and he went back to his work.
A group of Tylwyth Teg entered the clearing a few minutes later, a handful of human prisoners in tow. They immediately went to help Kelsey with the wounded, and to speak with the elf-lord, and by their grim expressions Gary realized that they had learned what Mickey had learned. The young man pulled himself up from the ground and walked over to join them. By the time he got there, Kelsey too wore a grave look.
Gary was about to ask for an explanation when he got his answer. A flaming ball of pitch soared through the gray sky, slamming the high top of a tree not so far away. Despite the rain, the burning pitch clung to the tree's branches.
"Catapults," one of the elfs explained. "Across the field and out of bowshot, and with ranks of soldiers dug in between them and the forest."
"They'll not take Tir na n'Og," Kelsey added. "But surely they mean to despoil it."
The targeted tree exploded as the pitch burned its way to the sap core. Flames shot high into the air, defying the rain.