Arimanthea by Wesley Belk (the reading strategies book TXT) 📕

lips, a tumultuous roar rose up from the stronghold and they turned to see a large dust cloud with chunks of stone, debris and even soldiers were flailing through the air. Marsden was seen sitting up and shaking his head.
Marsden scrunched his face, then opened his mouth wide, and shook his head one last time, “Wow, that was loud!”
Yassym and Lady Templin sprang from their hiding places and charged the castle. Having been situated to Marsden’s right and only about ten yards away, the place where the tree line came closest to the castle.
While at the same time on the opposite side, Ramwolf, a man standing six foot, weighing about two hundred twenty pounds wearing armor very different from Marsden and Templin. He strode onto the field atop of a mighty brown stallion carrying a four foot long slightly curved sword.
From between the three, a short man barely five feet six inches burst forth, his tiny knobbed legs carrying his stocky body a great distance in only a short period. The men of the stronghold were stunned to say the least.
Finally, Captain Deric managed to choke out through the lingering haze, “Fire, men! Fire at will! These men and women are considered enemies to the Great Behemoth and they shall be puni—innneeggak!”
He was yanked hard to the left, through the remaining dust he made out Grom’s wrinkled face.
“You … are .. an idiot…” was all Grom could manage before he fell backward then slipped through the large gap that had been blasted through the balconies. However a second before the old man’s frail body crashed into the rubble of the second story balcony, a faded version of the man floated above the body like an apparition…
After circling around, the ghostly form disappeared beneath the pile of stone. Marsden brought his shield up in time to block arrows raining down, then as more and more began striking all around, he was taking a step back when a group of ten or more fired all at once!
“Oh, spitfire, can’t block them all…” Marsden grimaced, Please let the armor hold up…!
He gasped as they were within the two foot range of piercing him, they stopped. Marsden looked around, then behind him where Yassym and Templin were running to his aid. It was nice to see these arrows frozen then fall, but his horror continued as another ten or so wooden missiles sailed through air. He could tell they would not arrive in time, then from his right appeared a whirling sound, and he turned to see a light brown blur whipping through the air. Sandra, the Amazonian spearwoman had arrived in the nick of time to avert these next set of projectiles.
“Sir Mahrsjen,” she said with a heavy accent, “You ahre safe now,” she finished he spinning of the spear, and held it tight in an offensive position. As a woman Sandra was fearsome, no other way to put it. She stood at a little less than six foot, then had a small bun of hair pulled tight atop her head. There several animal teeth jutted out, then along with more of these sharp curved, bright white things dangling from around her neck…! The archers moved into tighter groups, and began concentrating their fire on Sandra. Her darkened figure stood out against the dried ground. She shouted her warcry and swatted every arrow away as if it they were flies.
However, her momentum swiftly shifted.
“Gufff!!” She grunted horribly while being lifted from the ground! Marsden turned his head this way and that trying to find her aggressor…. The sorceress! Attacking one of the Knight directly while defending not only herself, but those around her!! Marsden could contain his anger no longer. He launched forward.
Arrows sang out, whistling their goodbyes as they fell behind or beside him. His blood burned through his veins, his breathing tightened, and he could see his sword stroke before he even moved his arm. It would strike the witch down.
“Sir Marsden!!” He heard his name called from far behind, the voice was thunderous and commanding, it could be only Lord Christos. Why now? Why call his name as he lead the charge?? He knew he would be unable to look away from the enchantress now, she had painted him as the next target. She placed her left hand out, the palm facing upward, and while she appeared to be concentrating on her next spell a small electrical charge formed between her hand and the same side of her head.
Marsden halted. Yassym! He looked behind him, long enough to see Lord Christos’ gigantic figure riding onto the field. With his armor he did appear human, he was some kind of transformed meta-being. Like Saigar, half-human, half-something else… But no, he was a man, dressed in heavy, polished, slate-grey steel plated armor. What really tricked a person’s vision was his helmet. The face was a roaring lion, the eyes, nose and mouth with meshed metal screens that allowed him perfect vision and breathing. No one could deny his presence, especially the enemy.
“No …” Captain Deric breathed, “It can’t be …” Deric brought the horn to his lips once more, at the onset of this second alarm being raised the entire wood and stone structure seemed to creak and moan, then a terrible rumbling. The infantry was being called out.
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Publication Date: 03-25-2010

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