Chapter 25
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I saw them now, lined up on both sides facing each other just like the scene I saw in the vision.  Sirona was leading the Dobunni warriors in the center.  Wearing her silver breastplates and greaves, she looked magnificent standing on her chariot. Her maids in waiting were also dressed in full battle gear and lined up behind her on chariots.  But they were not real warriors and it showed how desperate was the situation. They were backed by the bulk of the Royal Guards of the tribe behind and at least these men gave them some feeble hope of victory.  Alicia, with the Demetae light infantry was at the right of the Dobunni column.  Keeping their formation in rather loose form, the Demetae were still formidable warriors with their short bows and slings.  They were flanked by cavalry troops at the wing to prevent a surprise attack.  To the left of the queen were the heavy spearmen recruited from the hill-tribes.  These would be able to keep the enemy riders at bay as they were very tough men and not easy to break.
But the Silure hordes were much more numerous.  They were further strengthened by the many tribes who had flocked or were forced to join the Silure now that Orgetorix had the power of the axe with him. For every warrior Sirona could muster under her command, the Silure could boast at least three times more.  Their numbers would continue to grow with each passing hour, as more tribes from the vicinity would arrive, either out of fear or greed o for spoil.  Both the Dobunni and the Demetae were famous for their riches and beautiful women.   And from my high vintage point, I learned more unsettling sight.  Behind the mass of troops and hidden from view was another legion, not of warriors but composed of hundreds of fierce beasts of all sorts, ready to be released and pounce on the unsuspecting troops of Sirona.  It would be a massacre.
My heart plummeted.  What was I who had hoped to stop this bloodshed?  I was not even a warrior!  I looked at Orgetorix clad in bearskin over his strong trunk, holding the blackish magic axe was such a formidable sight.  I had to control the trembling of my knees to keep myself from falling off the back of the Pegasus.
But I had no choice.  If I would not go down and challenge Orgetorix to a duel and win, Sirona and all her warriors and allies would die today.  And Epi and Nemetona would never rise again from their sleep.
I clenched my fist and grab the circular shield tight and charged down.
They saw me coming.  Archers from Orgetorix’s ranks began shooting and the rain of arrows whizzed past me.  Some of them hit and bounced off the shield.  My mount was unhurt as no human weapon could harm it.
I landed twenty steps away from the Silure chief. His face showed the greatest surprise as he probably thought I would simply wither within the cave.  Then, his eyes brightened up as he nourished the thought of killing me with his own hands in the cruelest possible way.
“Orgetorix!” I shouted his name and spat.  This was the greatest insult possible to any Silure warrior and he could not ignore me.
“So, you have come for your death!  Let me help you to join your little Epi.”  At least he did not mention anything about Nemetona.
“That may be, Orgetorix, that may be. “ I dismounted from the back of the Pegasus and slowly walked up the slope towards my foe.  The archers had stopped shooting now, unsure of what to do as their leader engaged me into battle of words. A sudden surge of confidence began to embrace me.  I knew not from where I got my strength and courage but I sensed her presence near me.  “Epi.” I silently called her name.
“Are you mad?” The Silure chief roared. ”What do you think you can do to me?”
“I have come to ask you stop what you are doing.”
He broke out into a haughty laugh and his hordes laughed with him.  The whole valley was filled with sneering.
I continued to walk up.  
“I could kill you with one blow!” He boasted.
“Try”
His face was red with anger now.  He had not expected me to just walk up to him in front of his men.  Sure, he could order his troops to charge down and cut me to pieces but it would cost him his face, that they would think he was afraid.  Better to finish me off with his own hands.  I was just a Druid.  And he had the Axe!
 
I continued to close in the distance, armed only with the round shield.
“Yeah!” He finally made the move.  Raising the axe, the Silure chief charged all the way downhill.  He was still at least twenty feet from me when he struck and the next instant, a tremendous force that the axe generated crashed onto the shield!  The impact was so great that it sent me staggering back and I fell on my knees.  My arms trembled with pain and for a moment, I thought the bone had broken!  I had no time to think of my plight as another blow came smashing in.  I raised my shield to cover me.  The blow was even more powerful than the first one and I went rolling down, my eyes showing traces of fear as my body went round and round like a ball.  But the shield held and was not shattered.
Orgetorix came running after me, axe held high to decapitate me at the first possible chance.  I broke my fall and knelt and took another blow, and another…  The shield held.  And gradually, I was able to stand up and fight.  I still had difficulty bracing up to his powerful strokes launched from a distance and seemed to come in from all sorts of angles. My arms hurt so much but somehow, I could feel his blows were less menacing now and that with each blow, my confidence grew and now I was able to hit back with the rim of the shield.  One got him in the chest and he was sent reeling.  His anger flared up as he felt the hit and the insult.  He could not afford to lose now, not in the eyes of his men who had fallen silent as they saw the slow but certain reverse of fortune.
“Kill him!  Kill him!” they chanted and Orgetorix renewed his vigourous attack.  His blows became powerful again, now that he had come into actual physical striking distance; the blows landed hard on the shield, causing great dents at some parts.  But the shield still held.  His eyes were wide open.  This was impossible as the magic axe was supposed to be unstoppable; capable of cutting apart all shields and armour as if they were of grass.  He must have tried this on all types of arms, even putting human bodies behind them and every time, he could cut through and leave a pile of broken corpses with one single blow.  Yet the shield held.  
For the first time of the battle, his eyes showed something unthinkable…fear!
I pressed forward; parrying off his attacks and forced him gradually onto the defensive so that he had no choice but to strike again.  His movement became wider and gaps started to appear in his defense.  I was using the shield as an attacking tool now; no longer necessary to be on my guard as his strength was fast waning.  He was panting; sweat streamed down from his face, his legs trembled with every step.  Everyone knew he was losing now and it would be sooner or later that he would get smashed against the round shield that would send him flying across dirt.  
“Kill him! Kill him now!” he shouted.
No one moved.
His eyes went wild with anger and terror!
They had deserted him at the moment when help was vital.  They were eyeing him coolly, a loser in the make.  What had been unbridled support had turned to despise and even hatred.  The men remembered their sons and daughters forced to be sacrificed to obtain the blood that was supposed to make that axe invincible…that axe had failed him as he had failed to deliver what he had promised.  He was no longer a god, but a desperate man trying to save his own skin.
And then it came.  He made one slow move and my shield crashed into his chest again and the axe left him and landed in the ground, its blade buried in dirt and his body sprawled feet away.
“Kill me…” he pleaded.
I took up the axe and raised it.
“No!  No! Mercy!” He turned and buried his face into the mud, shrieking out of utter fear.
I brought the axe down, beside him.
His eyes went wide open as he thought I was to decapitate him and his own self collapsed when he realized his life was spared.
“Shall we kill him for you?”  His own men offered.
“No.  We have enough killing.  Take him to the deepest dungeon and make sure he would never come out to hurt anyone else again.”
He was dragged away.
And the battle was over.
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