Chapter Twelve
The Paladin Lives

Far beyond these castle walls
Where the distant harbor meets the sky
There the battle raged like hell
And every dove had lost its will to fly

Styx: "Castle Walls"

Beckett and her company of adventurers had barely managed to drag the still barely conscious Castle back to their tower when a host of torches massed in the darkness surrounding it. They stretched almost as far as the eye could see, and entire army of Kobold ranks dressed in full battle array. Their purpose was clear, they would assault their position and sweep them from the field using sheer force of numbers.

The first ranks of the enemy began to advance upon their meager defenses, to be repulsed by a hail of arrows from Kate's bow along with lightning and fire from Alexis' wand and fingertips only to be replaced by another. It had become clear to her and Esposito that unless help arrived to relieve them, they might be digging their own graves behind these walls. They all knew that their only hope was to hold as long as they could until help arrived.

Castle was still barely coherent. Lanie had done everything she could to get him on his feet, but whatever the dragon's minions had done to him had left him barely able to sit upright, much less draw his sword or cast spells. Kate's arrows were almost gone and they were outnumbered well over a dozen to one with no hope to defeat the host before them. Their predicament was dire indeed.

If Ryan had forsaken them - or nobody had believed the word of an accused thief - and no help came, they concluded unanimously - Alexis included - that they would at least make the dragon-kin bastards work for it.

Kate had loosed her last arrow, dropped her bow and drew her sword, prepared to defend Castle and his daughter with the last of her strength when from out of the gathering dawn, the clarion call of a war horn sounded.

From her vantage point on the wall, Kate saw a mass of soldiers swiftly deploy in echelon from the road, form and dress their ranks. She strained in the darkness to see the banner of the first cohort of New Amsterdam's vaunted XIIth Legion – along with the personal battle standard of their Lord Marshall, Robert Weldon.

With disciplined military precision, the first cohort advanced, fully in the field with the second deploying smartly behind them, flanked by Company A of New Amsterdam's heavy cavalry, bearing Knight Captain Montgomery's personal colors. Kate stood in awe, as another battle standard appeared in the gathering dawn, one she had long believed would never see open air again: the gleaming battle standard of the noble God Heironious.

A Paladin of Heironious sat astride his armored war horse at the head of the cavalry host, clad in full plate of gleaming silverite and mythril, shining brightly in the early morning sun. His bearing in the saddle, straight and true as the lance in his gauntlet-clad right hand swung down to attack position.

For the better part of a decade, her father's armor and weapons had sat gathering dust, having long ago lost their luster. His long-cased battle standard locked away, never to see the light of day again. Yet there he was, at the head of an armored host, his armor gleaming brightly with the full favor of his god just as it had in the stories her mother had told her when she was a little girl.

His paige loosed another blast from the war horn, sending the armored host charging at the assembled Kobold force, her father's lance flanked by Montgomery's at the apex of the formation.

Kate stood transfixed at the sight before her as the heavy cavalry slammed into the Kobold line, pulled back, reformed and hit them again. Her father once again the warrior of legend in the center of the battle, his blasting war horn and gleaming armor inspiring feats of valor from the knights assembled at his flanks.

For a brief moment it appeared that the Kobold line might hold as they lowered their pikes to meet the third charge of the Paladin, James Beckett's armored host when a squadron of Elven light cavalry burst from the forest on the far side of the battle line and unleashed a hail of flaming arrow fire that nearly blotted the rising sun to turn the unprotected kobold left flank.

With the Paladin-led New Amsterdam Heavy Cavalry hammering their right, Elven light cavalry harassing their left, the massed phalanx of the XIIth Legion marching inexorably up the center fire flying from the fingertips of Gina Griffon, the Kobold line wavered, collapsed and then completely disintegrated. Those who were not slaughtered, fled into the forest in full rout to the cheers of the victorious host.

Now only one more enemy remained.

The Black Death himself.

**Author's Note: A little something to let people know I hadn't forgotten this one. More to come, I promise.

Belated Happy New Year.