by C. J. Aaron
The Horde still maintained their distance. Ryl was careful to keep his anxiety from giving away his emotion. The demons remained still, though he could feel their eyes watching the movements with anxious curiosity.
Paasek grumbled an unintelligible string of obscenities as he rose to his feet. The sturdy phrenic used the tip of the great sword to lever his body off the ground. Fay’s mender found an icy cold reception when he arrived, though the sensible warrior acquiesced to the treatment, nonetheless. The phrenic councilor nodded subtly as he noted Ryl’s concern. A stubborn wave of indifference flowed from his body.
Ryl’s gaze traveled to the palisade. He scanned the rampart, noting immediately that the line had been bolstered. Adding to the drab, inconspicuous cloth of Lord Eligar’s troops, the regimented uniform of the Cadsae Proper guard mixed in among the line. Le’Dral barked orders to which the trained soldiers responded without pause.
The appearance of the mountain grey garb of the Vigil was a surprise he’d not anticipated. They worked their way into the line of archers in small groups. The phrenics Ghen and Rhoane, both trusted members of Paelec’s scout troop, stood with bows ready in the front. Taq, the elementalist, the remaining member of the scout group, leaned against the stone railing. His chest heaved from the exertion. Slender flashes of lightning sparked from his tattooed right arm. Vox, in a similar pose of exhaustion, stood a few meters to his side.
Above the center of the Pining Gates, Ryl was unsurprised to see Fay. Lord Eligar’s typically jovial face, however, was wrought with a curious expression. His eyes darted from Ryl to the Horde, then back again. At the moment, the expressions he garnered were little of his concern. To Fay’s side, however, was a sight that made Ryl smile.
Andr stood, an arrow nocked, ready to fire.
The mercenary nodded as their eyes met. He tossed his bow to the nearest soldier, who filled his spot along the edge of the wall. He hastened to the rope ladder, swinging his leg casually over the railing as he began his descent.
The expressions from the varied contingent of soldiers manning the wall was telling. Guards from Cadsae Proper stood side by side with the troops from House Eligar. All manned the line, standing alongside the Vigil from Vim and the phrenics who occupied the center of the formation. A greater measure of space was granted to the unsettling cloaked warriors in their ranks.
Ryl rotated his head back to the Horde, watching for any sign of attack. From his location, his vision, though narrow between the wreckage of the remaining buildings, carried out into the Sea of Prosper. The thunderous reports that had echoed from the frigates in the harbor had settled. Most now moved with speed, catching the wind, fleeing from the doomed city. As far as their cannons were concerned, there were none left to defend.
The army of the king was still hidden behind a row of buildings to his left. None had joined the fray while the phrenics battled the Horde. Ryl considered them a lost cause. Most were likely too far gone, sons of nobility, stationed out of privilege, not prestige, not honor.
Ryl heard the slightly uneven cadence of familiar footsteps approaching from behind. He felt the glow of the phrenics converging on his position as well. The stony hand that gripped his shoulder sent a shiver down his spine.
He’d promised the phrenic councilor he’d see them all home.
Two phrenics and a pair of Vigil had died on his watch.
“I’m sorry, Paasek,” Ryl whispered, his voice wavering, though he tried to hide the emotion.
“You cannot blame yourself for things that were out of your control, my friend,” Paasek grumbled, though the hurt of loss stung his words. “The loss on all accounts is great, yet all knew the risks. From what I’ve seen inside the Erlyn Woods, you have succeeded in freeing the tributes from The Stocks. Reclaimed a few more from the processing facility as well.”
Ryl inhaled a deep breath, savoring the momentary clean air, free from the oppressive stench of the Horde.
“Thank you for coming.” Ryl’s heartfelt admission needed no additional emotion. “I fear you’ve doomed yourself for the cause.”
There was a commotion among the Horde. The intersection of the avenue with the Kingsway bristled with activity. The blackened bodies of the demons jostled as if pushed by an unseen force from the west. A solitary blast of a horn rolled over the city.
The tension that mounted amongst the Horde was palpable. The structure of the mindless killing machines was now simple. Among their own, they accepted strength. Among others, neither mercy nor justification were given.
“It seems that it’s not just the Horde who wish to see this through,” Andr said as he stepped up beside his friend. “Before you ask, the tributes are fine. Many were waking before we left. They should likely all be awake within a few days’ time. Nearly one thousand Vigil remain at their side.”
Ryl looked at his friend, reaching out and placing his hand upon his shoulder. The gesture was to have been more benign, more symbolic, yet he found his weight pressing down on the mercenary as he fought to maintain his balance.
Andr gritted his teeth under the added weight. He looked at Ryl with worried eyes.
“You don’t have to shoulder this burden on your own,” Andr assured him. “There are Vigil among the ranks, mixed in with Fay’s men, who fight for you as their own.”
Ryl cast a glance back to the wall, where Fay stood watching the proceedings.
“I’m sure he neglected to tell you in the commotion,” Andr mumbled. “You’ve been adopted into his house. Averine gifted a rather large holding to the young lord in your name. I supposed I should refer to you as ‘sir’ now.”
Ryl was astonished at the gesture. His vision traveled the top of the palisade, looking for a glimpse of his benefactor.
“I’ve benefited from his kindness far more than I already deserve,” Ryl muttered. Averine had given him a chance at life. He’d given him the initial push to start the cogs in motion that had led him to Da’agryn, to Andr and Fay. The path to the mountains, to the phrenics and to Kaep had followed. He’d never have viewed the wonders of the hidden city of Vim without the assistance of his previously unknown benefactor.
His thoughts were distracted as his focus was drawn to the south. The ringing of steel whined in his ears as both Andr and Paelec drew their swords again.
The rumbling movement resolved into the sounds of heavy boots stomping on the stone roadway. A new enemy approached. Commotion registered across the top of the palisade as the archers reformed a ready formation. Two staggered lines bristled with arrows, stretching across the peak. Orders were shouted down to the soldiers behind.
Ryl scanned ahead, pushing his mindsight to the extremities of its range. A shadowed disturbance moved through the wall of black that exuded from the Horde. The shadows were a deep charcoal, wispy yet oozing with a demonic hatred. He felt the first wave of emotion as it crept up the avenue. It was a ripple at first, a meager black wave, large enough to lap only against his legs. He could feel the tidal wave that followed in its wake.
“The Lei Guard,” Fay screamed from above. “Thousands.”
A burning sensation began from his left arm. The crook of his elbow tingled for a moment before a mellow throbbing took its place. Ryl knew the sensation would grow. He knew it would become agonizing before it cleared. He wouldn’t fight it this time.
“How is your leg, Paasek?” Ryl called back to the massive phrenic.
“I’m not dead, Ryl. Neither am I crippled,” the phrenic councilor boomed in response. “I will stand. I will fight.”
He knew that would be the answer no matter what his condition. With the assistance of Ramm on one side, the phrenic councilor shooed off the menders, who’d only just finished a crude suture. His clothing was stained with blood, both black and red. Paasek struggled to maintain the appearance of calm.
“These are not demons we fight now, I’m afraid,” Ryl muttered as they closed upon their position. “These are tributes.”
“I understand, Ry
l,” Paasek intoned, placing his weighty arm on his shoulder. “I’ve seen the bodies of the others inside the Erlyn. You barely survived fifty. No, Ryl, thousands will destroy you.”
Ryl squeezed his fists together. He understood the logic, yet what other choice was there? The elementalists were nearly spent. His body felt hollow. His strength, his power, was severely depleted. The arrows from the palisade wouldn’t last long.
He wanted to scream with all his might. To ignite the Leaves and charge headlong into battle. As the Lei Guard approached their position, so too did the pain in his arm rise.
“Fall back. Inside the wall,” Ryl ordered. “We’ll hold them to the narrow quarters of the mouth of the gate.”
The logic was painful to accept, yet clear. What hope did he, did they have against an army of millions? Against the might of the combined hatred of a kingdom, one that had festered and grown for over a thousand cycles.
If the king was to fall, who would the Lei Guard follow? The answer was clear. The man they were named after likely skulked among their midst.
If Leiroth were to fall, who would they follow? It wasn’t the Lei Guard the Horde feared. It was the unseen threat that they represented. Would the Horde turn on them if their master was no more?
Ramm and Paasek moved toward the great gate, following the menders, who were scrambling ahead of them. The call rang out to open the panels as they approached. Paelec was the next to depart. Andr remained by his side, his sword drawn. The mercenary’s calculating gaze rolled across the stagnant Horde, who jostled as they parted before their blackened host.
“I told you I’d be by your side until the end, my friend,” Andr said somberly.
His friend turned his head for a moment, their eyes locked. The look that passed between them needed no words.
“If only I had a father like you, my friend.” Ryl sighed. “When these gates fall, you need to ride. I will not let you abandon your son like mine abandoned me.”
Andr grinned. It was a weak attempt, yet it momentarily wiped the worry from his face.
“Cray will understand in time,” Andr stated. “If my death serves to buy him another moment of respite, it will be worth the cost. His charge is to lead them to Vim.”
Ryl wanted to argue with the mercenary. He wanted to persuade him to change his mind. He knew the added emotion he commanded could help sway his decision, yet even if he could convince him to leave, once the feeling faded, he’d only return once more.
They backpedaled for a few meters before retreating toward the gate. The line of Horde shuffled anxiously as he moved yet remained where they stood. From behind them, growls and yelps arose as the Lei Guard pummeled any who failed to part fast enough.
On the wall above, the commanding voice of Le’Dral rang out. The seasoned captain barked orders, verbally chiding those inside the gate for the delay. Ryl knew but little of the work that had gone into securing the interior gate. Workers hastened to remove the chains and supports they’d anchored into place.
It was several anxious moments before the doorway finally cracked open. The nervous menders were the first to slip through the gap, disappearing into the darkness inside. Following close behind were Ramm and Paasek. The elder phrenic leaned heavily on the other’s shoulder.
Ryl turned his head back to the avenue as Paasek slipped beyond the heavy wooden panel. The front line of the demons parted rudely in the middle as if a great force pushed them aside. The first of the black-cloaked warriors streamed through the gap.
The wave of raw fear was chilling. He felt his body flinch as it crushed him against the wall. Andr’s shook from the impact. Ryl could sense the projected emotions of the phrenics above struggling to hold the shadow of malignant feelings from suffocating them all. He added his emotions to the mix. Hope streamed from his body.
His strength ebbed as he struggled under the unimaginable weight. He could feel the alexen inside his veins shiver. Their normally agitated motions were subdued, as even they suffered under the assault.
Ryl squeezed his fists together, focusing on the alexen in his left arm. The black streaks of the tattoos receded. He gritted his teeth as he gave in to the throbbing pain that had grown to a paralyzing pitch. He clamped his eyes together; the tears squeezed through the closed lids. The feeling of his skin twisting was agonizing. His arm burned, the pain penetrating as it grated against his bones.
The sensation seemed to drag on for an eternity. He blinked away the tears, looking upon his arm through watery eyes. The brilliant sun, though marred by the blackened streaks, shone with a dull white glow.
He pushed back against the darkness, widening the extent of his bubble of light, of hope. The Lei Guard had now entered the square. The lead element fanned out, forming a semicircle around the edge of the courtyard, though now, they gave the palisade a wide berth. The black-cloaked warriors marched with their weapons stowed. The pointed tips of their shields poked out from around their bodies like spines. The blood-red points added a sickening pop of color against the otherwise dark backdrop.
Over the top of the Lei Guards, the heads of two massive horses took shape. Each beast was jet black, though their coat was shiny, reflecting the light of the midday sun. Behind them, the peak of a carriage loomed. The sight of the black-painted wagon induced a potent chill that made the hairs on his arms stand erect.
Ryl scanned the avenue once again. The Lei Guard had pushed beyond the Horde, their fluttering charcoal wave holding back the demons behind them. The raw hatred that emanated from the Horde was lost under the weight of forced, paralyzing emotion. He struggled to maintain the sphere of light as the darkness crushed down upon him. He needed the strength to get Andr and himself through the gate. To hold out as long as his body could as the workers shored the wooden panels.
The effort to move each foot was monumental. One after another they shuffled toward the opening. Andr was at the gap; he was only a step behind.
With a final glance, his mindsight snapped into view unbeckoned. There at the rear of the wall of Lei Guard, in the presence of the wagon, the signatures stopped him in his place. The mass of darkness that spread from the inside held a gravity of its own. The forced emotion that the Lei Guards affected with practiced measure paled in comparison to the surge of hopelessness and devastation that swelled naturally from its core.
Beside it, a pair of apparitions loomed. Both were subtle, yet out of place in their own stark, shocking ways. Their uniqueness stood out against the monotonous hatred of their surroundings.
The first was a void, yet it registered in his vision as the absence of light and dark. The emotions swelled inside his body. The torment from cycles, now conflicted, raged against each other.
Elias.
The agony of losing his friend had stung. It had reopened a wound that had never truly healed. Of all the tributes he’d loved as family, Elias was a true brother to him. He loved him unconditionally. Ryl’s heart had swelled as he’d discovered his friend again, only to be dashed again as Elias turned on him. The hatred, the betrayal, the self-doubt from believing he could change again was devastating.
Though the conflicting emotions threatened to crush him, they were dwarfed by the second apparition to appear in his phrenic vision. The sight was faint. The glow was barely visible, yet undeniable.
The emotions, conflicted and dark, that had sought to hold him back evaporated in a flash. The alexen in his blood rushed in a frenzied excitement that rivaled his own.
Andr shuffled uncomfortably through the opening in the gate. His head pivoted as he crossed the threshold, his gaze meeting Ryl’s.
He nodded his head subtly, forcing a momentary crooked smile. The dread welled in Andr’s eyes. With one fluid motion, Ryl pushed his friend through the gate, slamming the heavy door shut behind him. Andr’s muffled screams pierced the solid wood as the deep grating thud of the drawbar slid into place.
He turned and faced the arced mass of Lei Guard. His mindsight locked back onto the vision it h
ad produced.
Ryl squared his shoulders, rolling them back as he rose to his full height. For the moment, thoughts of fatigue vanished. He stood ready to face the army alone.
There, clear in his vision, the golden orb flickered even as streaks of black marred its perfect glow.
He’d recognize the signature anywhere.
Kaep.
Chapter 50
Ryl moved a few steps forward, centering his body before the lines of the Lei Guard. None had drawn their weapons, yet the emotional assault continued hammering all within reach.
The archers on the wall were helpless. Even with all phrenics concentrating on the counter emotions, their attempts would be overpowered by the sheer volume. The few archers within the freedom of their reach would inflict little damage.
In the center of the line, the Lei Guard rotated inward. They stepped back, creating an avenue for the wagon to enter. The massive horses pulled the carriage forward, turning slightly to the right, stopping once it had cleared the line. They stomped their hooves, exhaling massive blasts of air as the driver reined them in. The gap sealed behind them as it passed.
Atop the head of the wagon sat two black-cloaked Lei Guard. A single warrior rode on a narrow runner on either side of the wagon, holding on to a discreet handle hidden among the decorative carvings along the top. The pair jumped down, their heavy boots striking the ground with ominous thumps.
The door along the left side of the carriage opened soundlessly. The figure that exited was clad in ill-filling clothing looking to be secondhand scraps commandeered from the garrison stores. Elias’s face was locked into an unsightly snarl. The expression was the antithesis of the vision Ryl clung to in his mind. His gaze travelled past Ryl, never meeting his eyes as it scanned the palisade behind him.
With a contemptuous scowl, Elias turned back toward the carriage. His hand reached inward, rudely pulling on something from inside. Kaep toppled from the wagon, her arms still bound, but her legs unrestrained. Ryl felt the heat surge through him as his anger boiled over. Every fiber in his body twitched in response to the affront. The urge to attack was overpowering.