Gauntlet

“Oh, thank the maker we’re finally here,” Marko exclaimed, exhausted from the days of walking as they all were. But Marko especially said he realized how spoiled he was when he had Pongo his horse do all the walking for him.

Looking up at the monumental towers of the Capital from the ground under the cover of nightfall, they all decided to rest quickly before the sun rose, eat some of the jarred rations they had scavenged, and just rest their aching legs.

“So, what exactly is our plan here?” Marko asked, his mouth half full of dried biscuits slathered in the jam he fingered before.

The group looked around the perimeter as they hadn’t worked out the hard details other than break in and kill the Prince.

“Well, we could use that,” Tyson said, pointing at the large concrete sewer drain. San felt bile rise in her throat as she realized that sewer drain poured into the moat she fell into when escaping the grabby hands of the barmen.

“So, we climb around in sewage?” Marko asked, as it was clear he’d never shoveled shit on the farm before.

“It would be hard to run into any guards down there,” San pointed out while trying to use this time to stretch, reaching far past her toes. Compared to this time last year, she was now a yoga master. It was extremely important for San to take note of how much time she had before the gauntlet took over. The armor had fully covered her except for the tips of her left hand’s fingers and left foot’s toes.

It was fascinating that the armor only seemed to be extremely large and heavy for her right hand, making sense as that’s where the power of the gauntlet was stored, but that wasn’t to say the less bulky parts of the armor weren’t still heavy.

The armor seemed to be ignoring her head, for the most part, the breastplates extending to cover her neck, mouth, and nose, only really leaving her eyes to the back of her head free, making her feel even more locked into this prison of her body.

“It’s mostly water anyway Marko, don’t worry about getting your feet wet,” Tyson said, trying to convince the young boy of his idea,

“Easy for a guy with no feet to say,” Marko grumbled low enough that only San herd, she rewarded him with a punch in the shoulder for his smart comment.

“Well, let’s at least try to enjoy these last few breaths before we go in,” San said, giving her group a pep talk, “We don’t really know where we’re going, so it will be hard to tell how long we might be in there.”

“But when we come out, the palace will be only rose petals and lavender, guaranteed,” Tyson said as he regained his grip on Matilda’s back who followed San as the four of them tiptoed past the toilet paper.

♮

“Are we almost there, mage?” one of the freed prisoners whined.

As Alizar’s group couldn’t just teleport to the Capital to wreak havoc, they had to return to the previous camp, stay the night there and then walk the rest of the way. Alizar had only been to the Capital once as a small child and had repressed most of the memories as it had been far from a positive experience.

“Yes, you ninny, can’t you see how close we are by those towers so tall they could scrape the heavens themselves?”

“Yeah…” he moaned in a deep baritone.

“Yeah, well, quit your whining then, you’re free from that wretched place, and soon you will have done a great service to this great country by stomping out that brat of a prince.”

The group of men cheered. At least if their stamina was low, their spirits were high.

By the time they arrived down the long dirt road, one of the two guards ran toward the great band of twenty-five members strong, and yelled, “Halt, what business do you have at the Capital?”

The question was directed at one of the tall muscular warriors at the front of the pack, the sexist guard had assumed he was their leader, but in the silence when no one responded, the guard was surprised to hear the elegant feminine tones from his left say, “We are on our way to kill the Prince, so please leave your large gate up,” Alizar pointed behind him to where the other guard was left standing next to a lever that held a large two-story wooden door from slamming shut.

“Kill the Prince, you can’t be serious?” the man asked directing his spear still to the more threatening looking man near the front of the pack.

“Oh, but I am,” Alizar stated with her hand poised to whip a hurricane at his head, only hesitating long enough for the man to realize what was about to happen. Alizar fired, aiming down past his neck to save his life but still sending his body soaring across the muddied early spring fields.

The fellow guard who stood his post by the lever didn’t like the looks of his friend flying, so he quickly pulled the lever and ran inside, the giant gate falling shut behind him.

“Maybe we should have handled that more subtly” a short dumpy man standing behind Alizar pointed out, as the sound of the shutting gate echoed through the yellow grasslands.

“Maybe…” Alizar said as she continued her stride, the school of warriors soon following in her footsteps. They crossed the stone bridge that merged the gap of the moat, walking in a five by five-pack. The men knew the witch possessed great powers but were uncertain how exactly she would tackle the gate that looked like twelve of the thickest and tallest oaks any of them had ever seen.

“If you value your lives, step back,” Alizar commanded her group as they quickly returned across the bridge. Taking a deep breath, Alizar thought for a moment, there were several ways she could conquer this fortress, raise the earth to form a bridge inside… no that would be too easy, she thought, and climbing that many steps would not only leave her men as sitting ducks to be thinned by coming arrows as they slugged up the steps, but worst of all, they would only complain more than ever for having to lift their tired heels more than necessary. The other option that came to mind was a bit more… impressive.

As wind conjuring was Alizar’s greatest strength, she poised her hands like she was dual-wielding pistols, both arms outstretched as she flicked her fingers. The first gust only seemed to tickle the wall, if you listened closely between the howling wind you could hear a rattling in the bindings of the gate.

Again, and again, the witch fired off, the rebounding wind rushing back at her as it smacked against the wall, her robes rippling as her silver-streaked hair flew around wildly, screaming as she channeled all of her might into the force of her strikes, the great walls that held the gate saw fracture as noticeable cracks formed with every burst.

Archers maintained their post for as long as they could, having their sights trained on the witch as she continued to blast gale after gale at their gate, they fired, not out of fear she would ever break the impenetrable wall of the Capital but simply because she had been the only person brave enough to try to best their defences in decades, so for many guards, this was their first combat in years and they weren’t going to miss the opportunity. As many loosened there shots at the bizarre windy woman, the breeze was too strong and every arrow strayed from its path, coasting instead far beyond where their eyes could follow, even attempting to shoot at the small army behind her only resulted in a misfire.

“AAAAAHHHHHHHHH!” Alizar yelled, though no one could hear her, her barrage so much more fierce now imitated the sounds of an angry giant trying to burst their way in, thunderous pounds growing in intensity, as chunks of rock chipped from the wall, caught in her wind tunnel and eventually made their way to the moat, crashing into the already tremendous waves created from the act at hand.

Gasping for breath as she sent her second last gust, the wall shook like a loose tooth. Her right arm fell to her side as her body swayed, her left-hand thumb bleeding from the force of every action, but it shot off, knocking the gate from its hinges as she fell with it.

The earth-shattering sound of the gate crushing the ground beneath it was timed perfectly with the witch’s body lightly meeting the stones below, but it seemed clear to all the men who hadn’t watched, only heard the echoing wallop of her feat that a giant had come.

Rushing over to her limp body, the warriors raised their shields to protect Alizar from the incoming arrows, moving slowly like a beetle with their shield framed exoskeleton, warriors in the front of the pack swung their weapons fiercely while everyone in the middle held one arm to lift the woman, the other to raise their shield.

Moving forward under the glass roof of the Capital, the collective moved against their seeming unwinnable fight, but after watching what one determined person could do, the twenty-four of them knew they could surely carry their own weight.