by David Debord
“I suspect they realize that burning themselves out is nothing compared to what the minions of the Ice King will do to them if we lose the city,” Heztus said.
Shanis watched as, despite the defenders’ best efforts, the enemy continued to move forward. Once again, they seem to have lost any semblance of will and moved forward in a fearless, mindless wave.
“What be driving them?” Granlor had recovered his wits and stood alongside her, watching the battle unfold.
“That.” Horgris pointed into the throng.
Shanis’ heart fell. From somewhere within the heart of the enemy ranks, a figure had risen up. He stood head and shoulders above the rest and he glowed with a faint blue light.
The Ice King had come.
Chapter 48
Shanis sprang to her feet, all of her fatigue forgotten. Adrenaline coursing through her, she dashed down the stairs, out onto the street, and toward the city wall. The others kept pace with her, shouting warnings and urging caution, but she scarcely heard them. This was the moment she had been destined for and she would face it head on and without fear.
She clambered up onto the wall and looked out. The Ice King strode forward, radiating blue light and exuding power. No one could stand close to him. It was as if an invisible force pushed everyone away, or perhaps even his own people found his presence repelling. He raised his hand and pointed toward the city. As one, his minions surged forward once again and renewed their attack, weapons and voices raised.
Meanwhile, Shanis’ own forces quailed. Weapons slid from numb fingers. Men fell to their knees. She had to do something. She glanced at Gillen, who seemed to know what she was thinking immediately.
“Stand and fight!” her magically amplified voice boomed. “I am with you, and we will not fail!”
Her words seemed to hearten her forces and once again, missiles flew into the enemy ranks, but the Ice King kept coming. She knew no one else could stop him. It had to be her.
“Can you cushion my fall?” she asked Gillen.
The young bone woman blanched and gave a single nod.
“Tell me when.” Shanis’ heart was in her throat as she heard Gillen whisper a spell.
“Now,” Gillen said.
Shanis leaped off the wall. She felt the brief sensation of falling and then she slowed as if she’d plunged into deep water. Her feet touched the ground and she charged forward. She was aware of Granlor, Heztus, and Gillen leaping down off the wall behind her, and she cursed them for their foolishness.
The attackers parted before her until nothing stood between her and the Ice King. She looked upon him and revulsion welled within her.
He looked almost human. His hooded cloak had fallen back, revealing a hairless head and burning red eyes. Cracks ran through his pale blue skin and he gleamed like moonlight shining on snow. Waves of cold seem to roll off of him and she began to shiver uncontrollably. The Silver Serpent came alive in her hand. It jerked, trying to get to the Ice King. Suddenly aware of the danger she and everyone else was in, Shanis concentrated, trying to gain control of the sword’s power.
Before she could make a move, Granlor cried out in defiance and charged forward to meet the Ice King’s attack.
“Granlor, no!” She cried
It was too late. The Ice King didn’t even raise his sword. With a dismissive swipe of his hand, he sent Granlor flying backward. The young Monaghan warrior smashed into the city wall with a sickening thud and fell to the ground.
Rage coursed through Shanis and with it came the power of the sword. The serpent mark on her chest burned. She sprang down off the wall and hurled all her power at the glowing figure.
The Ice King raised his own sword and sent a burst of power back at her. The sorcerous blasts, if that is what they were, met with an unearthly force. White-hot light met cold blue flame in the air between them. A crackle like lightning filled the air and the forces shattered like glass. The explosion tore through those closest to the Ice King and knocked others off their feet for a distance of twenty paces or more, but neither Shanis nor her enemy even felt it.
In two strides, she closed the gap between them and lashed out with all her might, pouring her will and her power into her sword stroke. The Ice King parried her stroke and the sound of their blades meeting shattered the air like the sound of a thousand panes of glass breaking.
The Silver Serpent was alive in her hands as she slashed, thrust, and parried. But no matter her efforts, the blade never came close to her enemy. As she fought, a powerful sense of hopelessness rose within her, and a voice whispered inside her mind.
You cannot defeat me. Many have tried and all have failed
“You were beaten before. By this weapon.” She struck again with all her might. The Ice King laughed, a cold, hard sound, as he once again parried her stroke.
Is that what you have been told? Your ancestors poured all the powers of the gods into your sword, yet here I am.
He swung his sword again and Shanis scarcely managed to duck beneath the blade. She felt the cool breeze as it whistled inches above her.
“You were defeated!” She grunted, thrusting at him and dancing away.
I was delayed, but you cannot deny that I now stand before you, stronger than ever. Blood sacrifice has given me power beyond measure.
He swung his sword again, this time with such force that Shanis felt the blow all the way down to her ankles when she parried it.
She fell back, uncertain. Could she hope to defeat him? He was not wrong – whatever the legends claimed, he had not been defeated, at least not entirely. Furthermore, she still knew so little about the sword. She wielded it, yes, but she knew neither its limitations nor the full extent of its power. What a fool she had been to think she could stop the Frostmarch. Who was she, after all, but a spoiled, temperamental farm girl?
The Ice King read her thoughts.
You are beginning to understand. Surrender and you may live. You may all serve me. There is no use in fighting. Too many have already died for your folly.
Shanis winced and felt her will to resist waver. Something deep inside her wanted to obey. After all, many would die if she continued to fight, but if she surrendered...
Perhaps you are not as foolish as I had believed. Drop your sword and kneel before the Ice King.
Her resolve crumbling, she lowered her sword.
Chapter 49
“The battle is well underway, Majesty, and it is not going well.” The look on Tabars’ face was one of grave concern mixed with the same determination he’d always had even in the direst of circumstances.
Lerryn looked down from the small rise from which they could see the battlefield through the edge of the tangled forest. The Ice King’s forces were concentrated along the north and west sides of the city. He could not see all the way to the south wall, but he could tell for certain that they were not attacking from the west.
“Why don’t they have the city surrounded?” Larris asked.
“The Ice King is leaving them a path to retreat. The lands west of here provide few defensible positions until you reach Karkwall. If they abandon the city, they will be slaughtered.” His mind racing, Lerryn assessed the situation in a glance. “Archers forward! Spears in support!
His commands were quickly passed through the lines and his troops formed up in solid rows. At Lerryn’s command, Kelvin blew his war horn and a hail of arrows rained down on the surprised forces of the Ice King. Cries of pain and sharp commands rose up above the din of battle as their right flank turned to meet the new threat.
Lerryn looked at Aspin. “I need you and the seekers inside the city to help bolster the defenses. If you go in from the west, you should be able to enter unmolested. They’ve left that wall open.”
Aspin nodded and began shouting instructions to the mounted throng of brown-robed men who waited nearby.
“Have our reserves form a wall and protect them,” he said to Tabars. “Once the seekers are inside, the reserves should join the
m and aid in the city’s defenses.” The reserve force was comprised of the youngest and greenest troops. He expected little from them, but they would be better suited to fighting from behind a wall than out in the open. “You and the White Fang,” he continued, “form a rear guard. When everyone is inside the city, sweep around to the south and take them in the flank. Slash and run but don’t fully engage unless the situation dictates it. I want to give them lots to think about.”
Tabars wheeled his horse about and gave the orders. Moments later, the reserves marched forward at double time. They were so young, Lerryn thought, some barely old enough to shave, and he was sending them to their deaths. Of course, he reminded himself if they did not prevail, their lives would be forfeit anyway.
“They will be all right,” Aspin said. “We can provide some protection until they are in the city. After that...” He shrugged.
Lerryn nodded. He watched as the young men continued to file past. One fell to his knees and vomited loudly. Others looked so pale that he thought they might collapse there and then, but despite their fear, not one of them turned and ran. Soon they had formed a double wall of spears, with two rows of archers behind. The seekers swept around behind them, spurring their horses as fast as they could go, followed by Tabars and the White Fang.
Their presence went unnoticed by the main force of the attacking army, but a small contingent broke off and charged toward them. A few nervous archers released far too soon in the arrows fell uselessly to the ground.
“Hold!” Their commanding officer called. “Loose on my command!”
Lerryn tensed as the Ice King’s forces released their own volley. Arrows whistled through the air toward his young troops.
“Shields!” The officer shouted.
But before his men could even assume a defensive posture, Aspin stuck out his hand and shouted a single word. The arrows bounced back as if striking an invisible wall and fell to the ground. The attackers saw this and hesitated, but then they charged again.
Another seeker had joined Aspin and the two of them hurled balls of fire into their ranks. Lerryn’s men added another volley of arrows, and he was pleased to see that most found their marks. But despite the carnage, the remaining men continued to charge forward while the injured crawled as if driven by an unseen force. Lerryn returned his attention to the battle, confident that the seekers and his own troops would easily dispatch the remaining attackers.
Down below the battle raged. The arrival of his forces had caught the Ice King’s troops unawares, but their sheer numbers and apparent mindless determination had helped them rally almost immediately. A large detachment had broken off and charged his position on the high ground. His archers were no longer firing in waves but released as quickly as they could nock, draw, and fire. The ranks of attackers fell like wheat before the scythe, but still they came, every fallen man replaced by two more. Lerryn drew his sword. It was time for him to enter the fray.
“Don’t do it, Lerryn,” Larris said. “I can lead the charge. You are the king. You are needed to command.”
Lerryn looked at the faces of those around him: Larris, Allyn, Colin Malan, Hierm van Derin, Hair, Edrin, Kelvin, Oskar Clehn, his fierce-looking female companion, and the three young Seekers who had joined him. All nodded their agreement. He was about to acquiesce when he looked out and spotted a familiar face in the midst of the battle.
“I’m a fighter,” he said. He reached out and squeezed Larris’ shoulder. “The gods be with you, brother.”
Larris nodded. “And also with you.”
“If you will all excuse me,” Lerryn said, “courtesy demands that I pay my respects to our uncle.” He raised his sword, put his heels to the flanks of Kreege, his faithful warhorse, and shouted, “Cavalry, charge!”
“What do we do?” Allyn asked. “Should we get inside the city and try to find Shanis?”
It appeared to take a moment before his words registered with Larris, who was staring at the back of the charging cavalry as it plowed into the Ice King’s forces. He shook his head as if coming awake. “I suppose we should.”
Oskar shifted in his saddle, ready to ride when something caught his attention. In the midst of the battle, a circle had opened in the ranks of soldiers and a pale blue glow emanated from a massive figure that stood locked in battle with a tall, red-haired girl.
“There she is!” He pointed at the combatants.
Larris spotted them immediately. “We have to get to her!” He gave no orders, but kicked his horse and charged down the hill and into the fray with Colin close behind.
Cursing, Allyn galloped forward, trying to catch up with Larris.
Oskar turned to Lizzie. “You should be able to get into the city if you swing around west like the seekers did. I’ll find you when this is over.”
“No,” she said flatly. “I stay with you.”
Oskar knew a lost cause when he saw one. “Stay between us, then. We can shield you.”
Lizzie laughed and shook her head. Here, in the midst of battle, with the Ice King in their sights and men and women dying all around, she showed no fear. “It will be as you say.” She winked at him.
“Let’s go.” As one, they charge down the hill, following in Larris’ wake. Up ahead, they saw him hacking his way through the confused tangle of battling warriors. Beside him, Colin was laying about with the ferocity of a wild beast. Allyn had dismounted and was firing off arrows with almost inhuman speed and accuracy. With no regard for his own safety, he took down every warrior who threatened Larris from behind. Hierm forged ahead, reaching Allyn just in time to ride down an enemy poised to thrust a spear through the young man’s unprotected back.
As they rode, Oskar, Whitt, Naseeb, and Dacio began to hurl spells into the fray. It was a difficult task to accomplish from horseback, but they managed to blast a path for Larris to follow as the prince continued to fight his way toward Shanis.
Oskar stood in his stirrups, but he could no longer see her in the midst of the battle. Otherworldly noises, cracks like shattering ice, rang out across the battlefield and he knew she was still fighting.
“Look out!” Dacio shouted. He waved his hand and the force of his will sent an arrow flying off course.
“Nice one,” Whitt said. “I wish I could...” The words died in his throat as a feathered shaft took him in the heart. His eyes widened as life fled from him and he slid off the saddle to the ground.
“Whitt!” Oskar cried. He wheeled his horse and tried to return to his friend’s side. Another arrow flew, whizzing past his ear. He spotted the archer immediately— a man in a crimson Galdoran uniform perched high in a tree. Rage burned inside him and he remembered a place far away and a moment that seemed a lifetime ago when he had called down the lightning upon the golorak. He stretched out his hand and felt the power surge through him.
With a blinding flash, a great bolt of lightning struck the tree. It exploded with a deafening roar, sending earth, stone, and bodies flying in all directions. Oskar closed his eyes and when he opened them again, a smoking crater the size of a small house stood where the tree had been. Bodies, rather, body parts, lay all about and he smiled with grim satisfaction at the knowledge that his friend’s killer was dead.
“No!” Something flew through the air at the corner of his vision and he wheeled to see Lizzie spring down off her horse onto the back of the silvery, catlike creature. The beast’s claws whistled through the air, inches from Oskar, just as Lizzie opened its throat with one of her wicked looking knives. She hit the ground, rolled away from the thrashing beast. No sooner had the ice cat regained its feet then an arrow blossomed in its eye socket. Oskar knew it had to have been Allyn who made that shot.
He was about to look for his friend when Lizzie hurled another of her knives right at Oskar.
He had no time to react before the knife flew past him and struck a mounted warrior in the eye. Oskar gaped as the man fell to the ground.
“You can’t expect me to have your back all the
time. You’ve got to pay attention!” Lizzie yanked her knife from the dead man’s skull and clambered back up onto her horse. “Now, keep your eyes open. Go!”
Lerryn was eager to fight but had no occasion to bloody his sword as he charged toward Orman. His cavalry encircled him, carving a path through the enemy ranks. He kept his eyes trained on Orman’s blond head. His uncle sat astride his horse, shouting orders and flailing about with his sword.
As they drew closer, their progress slowed. The mass of soldiers, though none of them a match individually for his men, nonetheless proved a formidable obstacle due to their sheer numbers. Their charge slowed and up ahead, he saw the flow of the battle carry Orman off in the opposite direction.
Lerryn’s heart raced. He had to get to Orman before someone else did. He wanted to be the one to finish the coldheart traitor. He urged his horse forward and began slicing his own path through the melee. His sword bit deeply into mail and flesh as he cut down every man in his way. He was aware that many of those he faced wore the uniform of Galdora. These were the rebel troops Orman had spirited away. He wondered if they were, in fact, rebels, or merely pawns under the Ice King’s powerful sway. It did not matter. They were trying to kill him, and neither empathy nor sympathy would protect him.
He continued to battle, but no matter how hard he fought, Orman seemed to drift farther away from him. Would he ever get there?
No sooner had the thought passed through his mind than a bolt of lightning sliced through the air and erupted in a flash of light up ahead of him. He ducked his head and shielded his eyes from the flying debris. When he opened them again, he saw before him a large patch of burnt ground, and beyond it, his uncle.
Their eyes locked and Larris charged. Orman hesitated for only a second and then he too drove his mount forward.
They met in the center of the charred circle of earth. Their swords clashed and then they were past one another. Lerryn wheeled his mount and came forward again. He struck at Orman, who turned the blow and then the world narrowed to a single flurry of blades. Sparks flew and the sharp clang of steel on steel rang in his ears.