by D A Godwin
“They gave me no time, and so I will spare them none. Your wizard will answer for this attack by his colleague. Seize him and bring him before me this evening. I will occupy the command tent as it stands. Inform me when all is ready.”
Fabrian dismissed them all with a wave of his hand and huffed his way up to his tent.
Logian looked around in disbelief, and his face hardened as his eyes fell on Shalindra. “So, it’s true,” he said with even less warmth than he had greeted the king. “You’ve returned.”
Shalindra turned to face him. “Brother, it is—”
“Don’t call me that.” He took an angry step towards her. “Don’t ever call me that again. You made the woeful decision to abandon your family. Do not make the bigger mistake of thinking that it will ever be forgiven.”
She had long since given up on that concept. “Your forgiveness is not why I am here.”
If Logian heard her, he gave no sign. “It was a slow death your selfish display sent us towards. Why not speak the truth and say you’re just here to finish what you started?”
“It is to prevent our ruin that I have come. This war serves no purpose but to weaken us.”
“Afraid your elf friends will lose, or are you worried your little colony will be next when we’re finished with them?”
“They have offered a peace with us.”
Logian somehow grew more infuriated than he already was. “I don’t know what lies you told my father. His ineptitude cost us the last war. It won’t happen again.”
With that he stormed off after the king, followed closely by four of his men.
Shalindra looked at Tormjere in alarm.
Go. I’ll find a safe place for Enna.
Shalindra caught up to her brother just as he reached the king’s tent and stormed in through the open flaps. Fabrian sat with a cooling drink in hand.
“You are a fool if you think I will order an attack against those who have our trust,” Logian said. “It will destroy everything.”
Fabrian shot to his feet, his face red. “You dare? This is my land. I am the king!”
“Then start acting like one!” Logian shouted. “You cannot cast aside allies like some useless toy whenever it serves your fancy. Make a decision and stick to it for once.”
“Logian,” Shalindra cut in, “you do not know everything that has transpired.”
“Do not pretend that you do. You can dance in the woods all you want; it won’t win this war.”
“We will not fight a war of the wizard’s choosing,” Fabrian said. “Now get out of this tent and do as I command!”
“I am not yours to order about.”
“This is my kingdom!” Fabrian shouted once more.
“Not anymore.”
Shalindra did not see the knife that flashed in Logian’s hand until it was buried in her father’s chest. The world hung suspended within that single heartbeat, as unprepared for such events as those who witnessed it. Her father’s face was frozen in shock, his neck bent at an odd angle as he stared down at the blade he had presented to his son on his fourteenth birthday. Then he was falling, and Shalindra could not escape her paralysis in time to catch him.
The tent exploded into chaos.
There were shouts and curses as every hand produced a weapon. She lost sight of her father in the melee. The king’s guard rushed in side-by-side with Logian’s men, no one certain of who they should be fighting. Shalindra started towards her father, but Tormjere was somehow there, yanking her back. Steel flashed past her face, and Tormjere threw himself at the man who had tried to end her life. She tripped over a box and fell to her knees. Amidst a forest of legs and feet, her father lay gasping for breath, his arm twitching feebly. She crawled towards him, oblivious to being kicked or trampled.
Reaching him, she pulled the knife from his chest. He spasmed, and a bloody froth issued from his mouth.
“Father!” she cried out, turning his face towards hers. Covering the wound with her hand, she plunged into his eyes, but encountered nothing but a confused jumble of emotions and pain that defied her ability to identify. The words of her prayer tumbled over themselves as she sought to repair what had been done to him, but his head lolled to the side.
Why can I not heal him?
Tormjere was shouting, but she could not hear anything beyond the ringing in her ears.
Eluria, please. He must live.
Suddenly, Enna was shoving her away. Her delicate fingers pressed against Fabrian’s bloody shirt, and her plea came insistent and fast, the normally melodic elvish words an indecipherable blur of sound. Shalindra could only watch and pray that it was working.
With agonizing slowness the gouge in his chest began to close. Muscle and skin pulled themselves together, and Fabrian took a ragged breath.
Enna sat back on her heels and took a deep breath to steady herself before placing a hand on Shalindra’s shoulder.
Shalindra tore her gaze from her father’s pale face and looked numbly around the now silent tent. Blood was splattered across the living and the dead, and dripped down the walls. Two of Logian’s men had been subdued, and the rest lay scattered about the floor. Outside the tent the sounds of combat swelled and then ceased abruptly.
Tormjere had Logian pinned on his knees, both arms twisted behind him. She noticed in a detached way that one of her brother’s shoulders was dislocated.
“You should have let him die!” Logian spat, his eyes wide with pain. “You are more a coward than he ever was.”
Redivers jerked Logian’s head back and held a dagger against his throat. “Say that again, usurper.”
Shalindra stood and placed a calming hand on Redivers’ arm. He dropped his gaze without apology, but offered no protest as she took the knife from his hand.
“You will always be weak,” Logian raged, “and our house will crumble to nothing. I am our only hope of salvation.”
Shalindra was unsure if she should feel pity or revulsion for Logian, but either way she was trapped. Had her father felt this way when passing sentence on her? “You are not the first man I have been forced to pass judgement on,” she said, “and it grieves me to declare you guilty of attempting to kill your king.”
“Your judgement is as meaningless as your threats.” Logian struggled but was helpless in Tormjere’s grip. “You will all be dead soon, and I will have what is mine by right!”
“I think not. I am sorry, brother.”
Shalindra looked at the knife in her hand, knowing what needed to be done but just as unwilling to order another to do it. Before she could complete the thought, Tormjere twisted Logian’s head backwards, and her brother died with his rage frozen on his face.
Why?
You didn’t need to be the one to do it.
Shalindra handed the knife back to Redivers, who accepted it without comment.
Her father twitched, and a small moan escaped his lips, breaking the silence that had settled over the tent. Enna beckoned to Tormjere, who righted a cot that had been disturbed and lifted the king onto it gently.
Redivers eyes burned with fury as he rounded on the captives. “Why did you attack the king?”
One of the men looked away fearfully, while the other sulked in silence.
Redivers drove the hilt of the knife into the stomach of the more unrepentant captive. “I’ll tolerate no silence from you, traitor. You’d best loosen your tongue while you still have it. What was Logian’s purpose?”
“To free our kingdom from that fool’s stupidity.”
Redivers struck him across the face. “No one decides to murder their father on a whim. What was he planning?”
The man spit blood at him. “Hang around awhile, and you’ll find out.”
Redivers reversed his grip on the knife. Shalindra raised a hand to stop him, but the words never left her mouth.
Don’t. We need to know.
Redivers drove the knife through the man’s throat before turning to the second captive, who started ba
bbling before a question had been asked.
“Prince Logian and the wizard met yesterday when they learned the King would come here. They planned to lure him into the city and force him to abdicate. That’s all I know, my lord, I swear.”
Redivers looked at him in disgust. “Take him outside and hang him from the nearest tree.”
The condemned man pleaded for his life, but a hand was clamped over his mouth as he was dragged roughly from the tent. Redivers addressed Shalindra.
“Apologies for that display, Your Highness, but we have little time for pleasantries. Can His Majesty travel?” he asked Enna, who still knelt beside the king.
“A short distance perhaps,” she answered. “The wound was deep and caused significant damage. Should he be jostled, we risk it reopening.”
Fabrian’s lips moved, but his eyes continued to stare at nothing.
A panicked soldier ran into the tent and stopped before Redivers. “Sir, we’re being encircled.”
Redivers rushed outside and returned moments later. “Logian’s troop occupies the road to Merallin, and we’ve Ceringions flanking us to the east. Their camp stirs. They may be aware of what has happened. Your Highness, with the king wounded and your brother dead, by rights you now have command.”
Shalindra shook her head. “These are your men, and Prince Kentrick is now Heir Apparent, not I.”
Redivers spoke insistently. “That may be, Your Highness, but your brother is not here and we cannot wait. This hill is indefensible, and there is no hope for us to prevail against such superior numbers. With our retreat to Merallin cut off, we are left with no choice but to flee into the city and attempt to hold until reinforcements can be arranged.”
“And if we cannot reach the city?”
“Then may the gods take pity on us.”
Shalindra looked back to where her father lay unconscious on the ground, wishing she had been stronger when he needed her.
This is not my war.
Just because you keep saying it, doesn’t make it true.
“See it done, Lord Redivers.”
Redivers bowed his head, then hurried from the tent barking orders. “We ride now! Leave behind what you cannot carry!”
Panic swept through the camp, which had not yet settled from the ride, and a mad scramble began. The carriages had been parked and their horses staked out, and so a wagon was fetched and brought before the king’s tent.
“I am sorry,” Enna said as Shalindra’s father was carried out and placed on a cushion of blankets in the back of the wagon.
Shalindra embraced her. “I can never thank you enough for saving my father’s life. I could not focus, and I faltered when I was most needed.”
“In this, you are like everyone else. There is always difficulty when restoration is mixed with personal feelings.”
Personal attachment had never affected her before now, but it was something to deal with at a later time. She needed to get her father to safety.
“I will stay with him,” Enna said, climbing into the wagon. Two soldiers took position with her, shields in hand.
Shalindra turned to find a horse, but Tormjere had already secured a pair. They pulled themselves up as Redivers came galloping back and wheeled his mount to a stop.
“We must go now.”
The soldiers who were available formed up around them, and they set off down the hill at a steady trot, not waiting for the unready. Redivers was leading them straight down the muddy hill rather than turn for the road. She worried at the wagon becoming stuck, but for now the soft ground did as much to soften the ride as slow their progress.
They made it to the base of the hill, and the ground settled into a more level series of undulations. The road to their left gradually converged with the path of their flight, both routes drawing ever closer to the safety of the city gates.
From the army outside the city walls a company in colors she did not recognize began moving to cut them off even before it had fully formed up. Only the broad but shallow creek which ran right to the city provided any semblance of a barrier between them, but the hostile forces would reach the gate long before they did.
“First Company, remain on the wagon!” Redivers shouted. “Everyone else to the creek! Defensive wall north! For Actondel!”
Almost every soldier veered to her right and raced towards the creek, leaving only a handful with Redivers to protect the king.
Redivers looked behind them and swore. Shalindra risked a glance over her shoulder and saw Logian’s troops charging down the road towards them. Unencumbered by a wagon, their horsemen would overtake them long before they could reach safety.
“Go!” Shalindra shouted to Redivers, putting heels to her own horse. Redivers did the same, and soon the wagon was bouncing along with them. She could only pray that her father would survive the ride.
It became a deadly game of time and distance. The wagon hurtled towards the city gates, drawing even with the battle raging at the creek. Actondel’s outnumbered defenders fought to keep the way open for them, but their lines were already beginning to crumble. From behind, Logian’s cavalry continued to gain.
“Henry!” Redivers shouted. “Our rear!”
The knight saluted, grim faced. At his signal, the last of their soldiers pulled to a stop and turned to block the road for as long as they could, desperately outnumbered.
Only Shalindra and Redivers now rode beside the wagon.
An arrow struck the ground in front of her, and then another lodged itself in the side of the wagon. More missiles began to fall around them, and the soldiers inside threw their bodies and shields over the king. Flashes of silvery blue flickered above as Enna lent her talents to the effort.
Shalindra spurred her horse closer to them, fighting against a rising panic. The gate was no more than a quarter mile away, but it could have been all the way back in Merallin.
Suddenly, she became aware that Tormjere was no longer beside her.
She cast about until spotting him. He had set his horse to a gallop, racing towards fighting at the creek.
You do not have to do this.
You won’t make it if I don’t.
Shalindra reigned in her horse, ignoring Redivers’ frantic shouts to continue.
The Ceringions had forced their way across the creek, splitting the Kingdom defenders into two groups. Tormjere vaulted from his saddle as he reached the gap between them, slamming into the Ceringions like a battering ram. Men were blasted to the ground, and Tormjere forced his way into the hole they left before the next rank could react, his sword lashing out in every direction.
The Ceringions reacted in a practiced manner, regrouping to deal with this new threat, but it did them no good. Driven by his inhuman strength, Tormjere cleaved his way through shield and flesh with equal ease.
Spears were thrust at him from every direction, but what he could not dodge glanced away in flashes of silver that pulsed around him.
Stay with your father. You don’t have to help.
I will not allow you to sacrifice yourself for me.
I wasn’t planning on dying.
You cannot defeat them all.
His sword cut through flesh and steel, and more Ceringions died.
I don’t need to.
His next cut spun the hapless soldier before him around, almost gutting him like a fish. Tormjere gripped him by the belt and lifted him above the fray. He drew a deep breath, hastening the man’s death by drawing the life from him. The soldier managed a shivering, wet scream as his body shriveled. Tormjere cast the corpse aside and reached for another man. The Ceringion ranks disintegrated as men sought desperately to escape his path.
Suddenly the way was open and he continued his charge up the hill. A second line formed beyond the first, closing ranks into a bristling wall of spears.
Tormjere thrust out a hand, causing a swirling void of purple-black smoke to appear just in front of them. Into it he dove, emerging from the other end behind the confused sold
iers.
As the mist gate closed behind him, he grasped the tendrils of smoke from its edges and sent them racing like a giant claw through the rear of the tightly packed Ceringions. Dozens died, their bodies pierced by an assault for which they had no defense. The savagery of his attack left them panicked, and they fell over themselves in their attempt to flee.
Only the muddy grass of the hill now stood between Tormjere and his goal: the knot of commanders standing with a robed figure.
A man with a plumed helm was pointing at him and arguing with the wizard, who only shook his head.
Tormjere kept his eyes locked on the sorcerer and he advanced.
In a show of bravery, a knight in polished armor set himself in Tormjere’s path. Tormjere struck him so hard that his sword travelled through the man’s blade, shield, and armored body as if it were a block of cheese. Unslowed, he stalked up the hill towards wizard and commander.
The knight in the plumed helm drew his sword, then cast it to the ground in disgust. “We yield!” he shouted.
After a moment’s hesitation, those around him echoed his motion.
Tormjere continued walking towards them.
They have surrendered. You must stop.
They still have something I need.
He did not halt until he stood toe to toe with the wizard. Hatred was replaced by fear in the wizard’s eyes, and he held his hands up plaintively.
Tormjere fingered the demon necklace around the wizard’s neck. “Summon it.”
The wizard swallowed. “There is no cause.”
Tormjere twisted the chain tighter around his throat. “That was not a request.”
What are you doing?
The wizard reluctantly took the pendant in hand and mouthed the incantation, returning his hands to his side the moment it was done. A swirling portal appeared next to them, and an ape-like demon stepped through. It surveyed the field in eager anticipation, then froze when it saw Tormjere.
Tormjere yanked the necklace from around the wizard’s neck and clenched it in his fist. Pulsing fire licked from between his fingers, followed by a shattering sound. Dark tendrils of mist shrieked as they escaped from between his fingers, but Tormjere drew them close and sent them streaking like javelins towards the demon. They passed through its thick body without slowing. The demon jerked, then collapsed to the ground.