The Queen of Magic

THE QUEEN OF MAGIC

Quentin landed, immediately pulling free his sword and charging towards the Demons.

‘Quentin!’ he heard Clive yell followed by a bunch of swear words, that despite everything made Quentin grin and his spirits soar.

Beneath his feet he could feel the vibrations caused by Nessie and the Dragons as their feet pounded the hard packed ground as they chased and slowly over took him.

Wow, they are so fast, thought Quentin as they joined the battle seconds before his own sword bit deep into the arm of a Demon as it tried to attack Serilda from behind.

Clive and Bluey were soon by his side and together they moved forward, protecting each other, Serilda, Arend and Abhaar spread out, one in front the other two either side protecting their flanks.

Nessie bellowed his war cry and grabbed a huge Demon around the waist and squeezed. In full Kraken mode he was immensely strong, not to mention huge, and the Demon kicked  his legs as he was lifted bodily off the ground, sounds of bones cracking and breaking joining the screams, yells and cries that filled the battle field.

Quentin found himself momentarily without a Demon and looked around, taking in the battle, gauging it and felt a surge of pride as his men took the fight to the foe without fear or hesitation. The handpicked men all had spears and were working together in teams, circling a Demon and stabbing it from all sides. He saw Shaun, his sword of light visible even in the daylight, it blazed so bright, fighting two Demons at once, Peter ever by his side, darting in to score a cut, weakening the beasts.

Something grabbed Quentin; hands around his middle, nails screeching as they scrapped his armour and then he was flying through the air, crashing down, the air leaving his lungs in a whoooosh!

Struggling to get up; a huge weight landed on top of him, teeth biting inches from his face, clawed hands trying to tear at his armour, and the breath! Quentin gagged on the bile that rose up his throat and filled his mouth. He grabbed at the body, his fingers gripping fur and tried to heave the animal off but it was just too big and heavy.

He felt panic stir within him as he struggled before he remembered his knife. One hand scrabbled for it, whilst his other hand trembled as it squeezed the breast’s throat, keeping the snapping teeth inches away from his face as drool landed wetly on his face and slid over his mouth.

YUK!

As suddenly as the weight had landed, it was gone. The large wolf thing yelping as it was lifted clear, Serilda looking down at him.

‘You getting up or what?’ she said.

The Hell Hound scratched its claws along her side causing her to gasp aloud before gripping her hand tight and snapping its neck.

‘You’re hurt,’ said Quentin scrambling to his feet.

‘It’s nothing,’ said Serilda one hand pressed to her side.

Quentin picked up his sword and swung it all in a single movement, the sharp blade slicing across the eyes of another Hell Hound sending it crashing to the earth, blood pouring from its face.

‘Where did they come from?’

‘No idea,’ said Serilda.

Bluey and Clive, seeing Serilda was hurt, moved closer.

‘Thought we’d lost you there for a moment,’ said Clive.

‘It was close, Serilda saved me but she’s hurt.’

Clive nodded.

Lightning fell all around them as the Magic Users strode up and joined the fight.

Castle Adventurous

CASTLE ADVENTUROUS

Quentin turned to look across the plain, instantly seeing what Clive had.

Three armoured women standing before the Horde, alone!

‘What are they doing?’ Clive yelled, his battle plans already falling apart.

‘Atoning,’ said Quentin sadly. He knew they wouldn’t last long enough for his army to reach them.

A horse burst between him and Clive and tore down the side the rise.

‘BLUEY!’ Quentin screamed.

Turning he could see the Nicola’s had vanished and knew instinctively where they had gone.

‘Two more witches just appeared,’ said Clive.

‘It’s the Nicola’s,’ said Quentin quietly.

‘WHAT!’ Clive heeled his horse.

‘CLIVE! STOP! YOUR PLACE IS WITH ME!’ Quentin said his voice booming across the valley.

‘Thanks,’ he said to Gal who had pulled his horse up alongside his.

‘Anytime.’

Clive pulled his horse up sharply but didn’t turn around, nor look back; his gaze was on the Witches, already engaged in battle.

Quentin felt his army move, sway and suddenly a section burst forth.

Chariots raced down the hillside, Queen Boadicea in the lead, her daughters in chariots of their own thundering alongside her and behind another hundred, as the Women of Briton charged into battle.

More and more women joined, kicking their horses into action to join battle, to stand alongside the women already fighting for their lives.

Quentin watched, fuming.

‘Sir Galahad, you’re as old as the hills,’ he said.

‘Hey steady on, I am not that old.’

Quentin gave him a steady look.

‘Ok I am older than most,’ Gal conceded.

‘Tell me, with your centuries of experience, you understand women right, tell me it’s possible to understand them.’

Gal gave a bitter laugh.

‘No chance lad. No chance. They’re as changeable as the weather.’

Quentin raised his hand.

 ‘ARMY OF LIGHT

OUR WOMEN FIGHT

DO WE LET THEM FIGHT ALONE?’

The roar of anger and rage was all he could have asked for.

The Army of Light uncoiled and moved out, the Army of Heroes amongst them, eager to fight.

Quentin knew his battle plans were ruined. The best he could do was try to follow what was left and hope it was enough.

He spun.

‘ACHILLES!’

A man heeled his horse into a gallop and raced to join Quentin.

‘Prince.’

‘How many Myrmidons do you have?’

‘One thousand swords, Prince, but all handpicked by me, so worth ten times that number.’

‘Would you do me the honour of joining me? I will be going into the depths of Hell.’

‘The honour will be ours Prince. Hector, we fight together at last!’ Achilles laughed.

‘Indeed we do Achilles,’ said Gal, ‘I hope you can keep up,’ he added with a laugh.

‘Mum?’

‘I have you son, we will be ready.’

Quentin watched as his Army thundered across the plain towards the tiny knot of women fighting. Fighting and dying.

Arrows took flight and ripped into the Demon Horde with such accuracy not one fell amongst the Women of Light.

Quentin could not sit on the hill any longer and gave the signal for his troops to move out.

The Witches' Eye

THE WITCHES' EYE

THE TEAM ASSEMBLE

Quentin was standing outside the house waiting impatiently for the others to arrive.

He was dressed for adventure in khaki shorts and an olive green shirt, walking boots and on his head was a Fedora hat just like Indiana Jones wore. He had wanted a whip too but his Mum had put her foot down about that.

Quentin was not too disappointed. He tried using a skipping rope from the Gym at school as a whip but only managed to hit himself on the head with the wooden handle.

He pulled at the shorts, not overly happy about those, but knew they would be vital in the heat. And the countries he was planning to visit, they were hot!

‘Finally!’ he said aloud as cars pulled into the drive.

Doors were opening before the first car had even stopped, with Clive and Bluey jumping out and rushing up to Quentin.

‘Hello mate, this is going to be so exciting,’ said Clive.

Bluey threw her arms around Quentin and gave him a big hug and a kiss on the lips.

Quentin returned the hug and the kiss enjoying the tingles throughout his body as he always did when he was close to Bluey.

Both Bluey and Clive were dressed similarly to Quentin though they were missing a hat.

‘Cool hat, wish I’d thought of that,’ said Clive.

‘Oh I wish I’d gotten one of those instead of this,’ said Bluey pulling out a bonnet from her backpack.

Clive and Quentin tried hard not to smile at the white hat with its ribbon ties, but they failed, miserably.

‘Stop laughing, it’s not that bad,’ Bluey said, ‘look.’

She put it on and tied the blue ribbons beneath her chin.

The boys were laughing so hard they were holding their tummies.

‘Why Miss Bluey that is sure a nice bonnet you have on there,’ said Quentin’s Dad; Unwin, in his best southern drawl, which was awful.

Bluey smiled prettily at Unwin then poked her tongue out at the boys, ‘See!’

‘What’s all the laughter about?’ said Quentin’s Mum; Mel, coming out of the house and slipping her arm around Unwin, ‘Oh, I see.’

Bluey blushed and snatched the hat off her head, ‘My Mum chose it.’

‘It’s very nice,’ Mel said, though her smile was twitching and pulling her mouth into a wider grin.

‘Sergeant, Maggie, good to see you,’ said Unwin walking towards the second car as they got out, ‘And Nan, how, erm, lovely to see you?’

Unwin shot a look at the Sergeant who grinned sheepishly and nodded towards Maggie.

‘Surprised more like,’ said Nan, walking up to Unwin, ‘You put on weight?’ she added poking him in the stomach.

‘Ouch, Nooo. I don’t think so. Maybe,’ said Unwin flustered as he always was around the irascible old lady.

Nan walked past Unwin, barely leaning on the cane she carried.

‘Hello Mel, where are my great grandchildren? You’ve been married ages now. What’s the problem, he not up to the job?’

‘Nan please!’ said Mel coming forward and giving Nan a big hug.

Bluey and Clive exchanged grins and sprung forward to hug Nan.

‘Hi Nan, remember us, I’m Bluey and this is Clive,’ Bluey said.

‘Remember you, course I remember you. I’m not senile ya know. What’s the matter with you boy, cat got your tongue?’

Quentin was feeling shy and looking at his feet.

‘Come and give us a kiss then,’ Nan said, holding out her arms, ‘you’re my first great grandchild and,’ she used her cane to point towards Maggie and Mel, ‘could be the only one I see if these two don’t get a move on. I’ve not got long left ya know.’

Quentin rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Nan. When Nan had complained about not having great grandchildren he had taken that as a sign Nan was not thinking of him as family, being adopted and all, and had been overcome with shyness and disappointment. Now though, all was well again.

‘Well, yes, ok my boy, you can let go now, you’re cutting off my circulation. I’m old ya know,’ complained Nan gruffly to hide the wave of emotions she felt.

Peter Stag finally got out of the first car where he had sat and watched everyone greeting each other.

‘Peter,’ said Unwin warmly, taking his offered hand and pulling him into an embrace.

‘Hello Unwin, doing ok?’

‘Good thanks Peter, really good,’ replied Unwin.

‘Peter, welcome. So lovely to see you again,’ said Mel giving him a hug.

Technically Mel was his boss, but she wanted him to feel he was also part of the family.

Peter was suddenly surrounded by Clive, Bluey and Quentin.

Clive and Quentin offering their hands and pumping his arm enthusiastically as he shook each of their hands and returned the hug Bluey gave him with genuine affection.

He had been a lone operative all his adult life and whilst it was taking a little getting use too, he was enjoying the camaraderie and companionship of working within a team.

‘I’ve got something for you guys,’ he said walking to the back of the car and opening the boot.

Fedora hats flew through the air, one for Clive and one for Bluey and another went sailing over Quentin’s head and landed at Mel’s feet.

‘That one was for Quentin but I see he has one,’ said Peter.

‘Wow, these are great! Thanks!’ said Clive putting his on his head.

Bluey squealed in delight and rushed over to give Peter another hug before putting it on too.

Mel picked hers up and sniffed it, ‘Bit battered and stained,’ she said, ‘smells too.’

Peter grinned, ‘I know, they’re all used I’m afraid. I had many missions out in East Africa, the Sudan, and such. Sorry.’

Quentin was looking at the used and battered hats thinking they were so much better than his nice shiny new one.

‘Would you like to swap yours with mine?’ he asked his Mum hopefully.

‘Oh yes, that would be perfect. Are you sure though?’ Mel asked, knowing how particular Quentin was with his clothing.

Quentin nodded and was delighted when Mel spun the hat through the air towards him.

‘Done!’ she exclaimed.

Quentin took his hat off and threw it to his Mum and they both stuck their hats on their heads smiling happily.

‘So where’s my one been?’ asked Clive, ‘Specifically?’ as they all made their way inside.

Peter studied the hat and said, ‘Egypt.’

‘Cool,’ said Clive.

‘And mine?’ asked Bluey excitedly.

Peter smiled, ‘Jerusalem, Israel.’

‘Ohhhh,’ Bluey cooed, her eyes shining.

Peter looked at Quentin’s hat, ‘And yours I wore in Africa.’

Quentin positively beamed. Much better than his brand new hat. That hadn’t been anywhere.

‘Is someone going to put the kettle on?’ they heard Nan’s voice loud and strong coming from inside the house, ‘I’ve not got long ya know and I’d like a cup of tea before I go.’

Everyone trooped into the house. Tea sounded just the ticket.