“Wilhelm has a terrible morning disposition,” Bromm said. “Once he eats, life is wonderful.”
With the addition of the Westerberg cousins, breakfast turned into a lighthearted affair, until a curious silence fell on the group. No one voiced it, but the impending battle hung in everyone’s mind.
Once the meal was over, Kailen rounded up the wolves and lined them up on the flattest ground possible, far from the tents. Light swords could wreak havoc on fabric. He left Bromm in charge of the initial exercises, then strode over to the elves’ tents with Soren in tow.
“Hello, Danann.” Midrin, third in line to the elves’ leadership, greeted him. “What news this morning?”
Kailen nodded instead of bowing. Midrin’s rank was below his. The cur had to be reminded when he forgot, like now. “I came to offer my services. Last-minute demonstration of the light sword, if needed. Is Lord Alain available?”
“He is not. My lord Alain is in conference with the Titanians. However, if I may speak in his stead, the elves can manage the light sword. However, we shall not use them.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“We shall use poison-laden arrowheads against the minions.”
“Poisoned tips? Which sort? Minion skin is close to impenetrable.”
“Pardon me. I cannot reveal that information.”
Midrin’s half sneer and condescending tone was enough for Kailen. “All right. Please advise your lord I came to offer my services.” He pivoted without waiting for an answer. “We’re finished here, Soren.”
“I don’t blame you,” the young man said, a step behind his much longer stride. “He was rude and arrogant, and worse, spoke for his lord.”
Kailen paused to stare at the future Titanian Enforcer. “You truly are your father’s son. Astute, observant, and discreet. Let’s join the others.” Kailen pointed at the line of shifters already involved in drills. A moment later, the exchange with Midrin was forgotten.
Repeated exercises, maneuvers, and lightning sword coaching made the morning a quick affair. As the sun reached its zenith and shadows shortened, clouds dissipated and the day warmed up.
Kailen had discarded his cloak and jerkin. The hem of his sweaty shirt hung over his breeches. Studying the shifters, he realized they’d become as accurate and efficient as they were ever going to be. Any improvement would require another full week of training. They didn’t have it. He brought the session to a close.
Whoops and ear-shattering whistles erupted from the lineup. In surprising accord, every male ran for the stream as garments flew in all directions.
Kailen dived headfirst into the icy-cold, clear water. The initial shock disappeared moments later, and the pure delight of rinsing sweat and dust off thrilled him in a sensuous way. He only wished he had more time to indulge in this hedonistic activity with Nadrine at his side.
Perhaps… The idea of remaining in the valley after the battle was over filtered through his mind. An extra day of private relaxation with his lovely woman was a perfect idea. If he asked Fritiof for leave, his lord would approve it. He was certain of that.
He crawled out of the water on all fours, rolled on the grass facing the sky, and stretched out, allowing the sun and breeze to dry him. Bromm fell close by; the four Westerberg cousins came soon after. Kailen closed his eyes…
A deep underground rumbling startled him awake. Kailen sat up. The sun was setting quickly. Bromm reacted at the same time. He shook Soren’s arm.
“Wake up!” Bromm exclaimed. “War has come. Time to prepare.”
“Go to your tents. Suit up.” Kailen gathered his clothing on the run. “I will meet you there.” He scrambled up the hill. The field had turned into a disturbed beehive. Males, yelling orders, ran in different directions. Nadrine and his stallion waited for him at the front of his tent.
He patted the horse’s forehead as he moved past it. “Wait for me here.”
Standing aside, Nadrine held the tent flap open. Her face didn’t betray surprise at the fact that he was totally naked. “Your battle suit is ready, my lord.” She tried to suppress her anxiety. He heard it nonetheless. She’d never been in combat with him before.
The image was incongruous, to say the least. Laid out on the table, where a night ago they’d made love, the leather outfit reminded him in grim silence of the challenge ahead. Nadrine moved quickly to his side. As he donned black breeches and wool hose, Nadrine held open a suede undergarment and quilted black shirt. A black, knee-length jerkin crafted in studded leather came after. She slipped his short, one-of-a-kind. V-shaped breastplate over his neck, then fastened the loops at his shoulders. His matching leather wrist guards, belt, and gloves completed his gear. While he thumped into his boots, Nadrine knit his long hair into a tight braid.
Exhaling a heavy breath, he turned to her and clasped her chin between his fingers. “Do not worry, my lady. Death is not waiting for me on this field. That I can assure you.” He kissed her lips. “I need a favor.”
“Of course, my lord.”
“My horse needs a venom-resistant cover. Can you fashion one?” he asked as he wrapped the belt around the studded jerkin and donned the cuffs.
She nodded, exited the tent, and stopped next to the stallion. The animal didn’t move or fidget. He seemed to understand a crucial event was about to happen. Nadrine waved her hands in compact circular gestures, and her murmurs joined her movements. A tiny light flickered between her palms, grew into a ball, and flashed brightly. Opening her palms, she hurled the ball forward. In the next breath, it expanded into a black quilt that covered the horse, identical to the shirt Kailen wore under his jerkin.
“Nicely done.” He smiled.
Nadrine bowed. “Anything you require, my lord.”
He was about to speak, but an unearthly screech rolled from the top of the mountain into the valley. Wild panic distorted her beautiful features.
He cupped her cheek. “Shh…shh. Don’t let fear take you. It’s only a sound. Nothing more than that.”
The stallion nickered and stamped the ground. With the herd safely away, he was ready for combat.
“Nadrine, you must teleport elsewhere. Go to Alsvåg or Abisko. I will meet you there.”
“No, my lord. My place is with you.”
“All right.” He searched her face for traces of fear. “You stay right here. The tent should be far enough away from the encounter. But if anything changes, if the struggle moves any closer, leave, teleport. I will find you.”
“I understand.” She bowed again.
From somewhere inside, a foreboding urged him to stay with her. Comfort her fears. Soothe her. But he could not. Time had run out. The enemy knocked at the door. He silenced his mind, grabbed the light sword and two waist daggers from his trunk, then walked to the tack post. When he placed the saddle on the stallion, he realized Nadrine had created a protective cover with slits on both sides. He could run the stirrup belt through them. He circled his fingers in approval. Standing at the opening, she smiled shyly. She seemed so small, so soft…
Again, the sense of dread returned. This time, it was sharper. The sensation pierced him. Sweat began pouring down his back. He wiped his damp face, secured the saddle, and bridled the horse.
I cannot stay.
Exhaling a sharp breath, he ran the strap of the sword over his shoulder, grabbed a handful of the horse’s mane, and leapt astride. Reins in hand, he turned to look at Nadrine. The gravity of the moment nearly prompted words he knew she wanted to hear. A sentiment he wasn’t yet ready to express.
“Remember, at the slightest change, teleport. It’s an order. Do you understand?” he said instead.
“I do, my lord.”
He touched the stallion’s flanks with his heels.
Obeying the command, his mount cantered down the hill to the Titanian tent where the full allied leadership, primed for war, awaited his arrival. True to his word, Eachann and three vampire warriors had arrived. The big vampire shuffled from side
to side, his long red mane shifting as he moved. Evidently, he couldn’t wait to get the conflict started.
“Do we have a strategy?” Kailen asked as he jumped off.
“Yes. Let me show you.” Fritiof rolled open a map of the area for Kailen. Two paths had been marked with arrows on both sides of the stream the valley’s central area. “Gustaf and I, along with Hagen, Brant, and Roald, plus the shifters, will take the northern flank. We decided to teleport uphill. We’ll wait until the minions are committed to the valley, then we’ll rush them. They’ll be locked in, their retreat cut off.”
Kailen frowned. “What about Soren?”
Fritiof laughed. “You ask me that?”
“But he’s your son.”
“He’s fighting with you. I trust you implicitly. He couldn’t have better or more adept guidance. You, the Aurician fighters, and the elves will block the minions from the south. Eachann and the vampires will fade and blow in and out, destroying at will.”
Midrin’s comment came to him. “Have you spoken with Alain?”
“About?”
“The elves are using special weapons. Midrin mentioned poison-laden arrowheads. I had hoped Alain had explained.”
Fritiof rolled the map closed. He shook his head. “Nothing special other than Medusa’s diluted left-side blood. I did wonder how they intended to deliver the poison in battle. They’d have to get close.” He sighed. “I don’t know, my friend. Alain is so evasive, so mysterious. Can we win without the elves?”
“Do not worry. We have the Auricians too. Formidable warriors, same as Titanians.”
“Thank you. Don’t mind me.” Fritiof clapped his shoulder. “I’m having prewar jitters.”
The blare of a powerful horn reverberated from atop the valley.
“That’s Astarot’s signal,” Kailen said. “We go now.”
Kailen and Fritiof rushed outside. Midway down the northern slope, a daemon wizard stood on a natural rocky shelf. He wove a ball of fire that illuminated the darkening sky with an eerie light. On the southern slope, another wizard stood on the same escarpment from which Kailen had overseen the valley yesterday.
If they communicated with the forces below, their advantage was great. Then he saw them. Three lieutenants of the horde appeared behind the wizards on each side. A frisson rushed him. Had he misled his lord?
No. Stop it. As he tried to push the defeating thought aside, the sight of Soren riding toward him on a gorgeous white mare uplifted his spirits. His stallion neighed. Kailen clapped the powerful neck.
“Ah-ha. Now, don’t get distracted on me.” The horse nickered in response. He laughed.
“Can you believe this, Kailen?” Soren said. “The mare came to me when the ground trembled. Somehow, I knew she wanted to fight.” He shrugged. “So, I said yes.”
Still laughing, Kailen pulled his reins and took the lead south. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
Side by side, Kailen and Soren crossed the stream at the shallowest point. Alain and his group of elves remained strangely distant from the Auricians. They’d taken the higher elevation and spoke amongst themselves. Mered, leader of the Auricians, waved from the most level spot, less than half a mile from the empty village. Kailen hoped medieval human structures would withstand the fight and remain intact.
“Where do you want us, Kailen?” Mered asked.
“This is good, Mered. Fritiof and his warriors are teleporting above the valley. When they rush down, we’ll push up from the south and clip them in between our forces. The vampires will take the middle.”
Two loud horns sounded, one from each shelf where the wizards stood. A torrent of minions flowed between the foothills like green lava. The lizard-like mass kept up a strange tempo as they thumped their metal and leather shields. Screeches and chants deafened Kailen. He signaled for Soren to stay in place. When the young man acknowledged his command, Kailen cantered to Alain.
Midrin had the impertinence to stand in his way. Kailen scowled, ready to pounce on him.
“Move away, you fool,” Alain yelled at his lieutenant. “Kailen, sorry.” He shouted even louder, trying to be heard above the din. “He can be overzealous.”
“What is your strategy, Lord? Your elves are separated from the rest of us.”
Alain stretched his arm along the terrain his people occupied. Standing at attention, ten elves formed a semicircle. Each leaned the wooden end of a long metal tube on the ground. At first glance, Kailen assumed they carried sleek matchlock guns. On second thought…
Alain interrupted him. “I don’t have much time to explain. I brought special weapons and ammunition from the future.”
“Sir, that’s not allowed.” Kailen snapped, “You’ve broken the universe’s rules of magic and time.”
“Extreme times require exceptional measures.” Alain argued back. “This isn’t a fair fight. We’re going against superior forces and evil magic. Those rifles project poisoned lead projectiles a great distance and with enough force to penetrate heavy minion scales. Five of my elves will join you with light swords. Say the word.”
“Now. Send them now.” Kailen dipped his head. Only the council had the authority to judge the elf lord, not him. He turned his horse around.
Alain’s powerful voice yelled orders. “Sword warriors, to Kailen. To Kailen!”
Five elves detached from the main party and ran after him. He stopped next to Mered, signaled at the elves, and shouted at the same time. “This is your group! Acknowledge.”
“Yes, Lord!” an elf shouted back.
Holding up a thumb at the elf, Kailen glanced at Soren. Fritiof’s son had matured years in a few minutes. At ease on his mare, a calm glow surrounded him. He would be a great leader when his father retired.
“Mered!” Kailen shouted, unhooking the light sword off his shoulder. “I’m taking the lower ground. When you see me come up, release hell on earth!”
The Aurician grinned.
“Soren, come.” He pulled the reins, kicked lightly, and the horse responded. Soren cantered side by side with him. He took a spot where stream and ground dipped out of the main view. From here, Kailen could see Fritiof’s maneuvers and the advancing minion army. Their job was to close the circle, pressing the minion mob against the allied armies.
“Remember what I taught you.” Kailen gave his last instructions loudly enough to be heard. “Breathe in, aim, and expel the lightning. Slow and accurate trumps hurried and wild. Listen, heed my words. Be aware, Alain’s elves have powerful weapons with a long reach. Stay clear of their fire.”
“Yes, Kailen.”
Even if Kailen wanted to express how proud he was of the young warrior, he couldn’t. Four lieutenants leading the screeching banshee horde began firing red beams with no specific targets. The ground trembled like an earthquake. The stamping minion army overtook the valley.
To Kailen’s left, Fritiof and Gustaf’s army rushed out of portals midslope and attacked. Their screams and roars rose above the shrieks. Powerful white and red flashes and green explosions illuminated the night sky.
“Charge!” Kailen screamed. His stallion took off. Next to him, a focused Soren galloped at full speed. He stopped worrying. The young warrior was in full command of his actions.
As he attacked up the left, Mered’s Auricians engaged the minion army. Golden beams joined the explosion of lights; shrieks of pain and green bursts came from the east flank. Up close, warriors swung their fearsome halberd-like lances. Slashed heads rolled.
A quick succession of reports entered the fray from the northeast. Elves fired their forbidden weapons, and minions disappeared by the dozens.
Kailen took the middle. He crossed stares with a lieutenant. The monstrous beast discharged his ray, but Kailen lifted his sword, blocking the beam. The lieutenant’s surprised expression faded into the ether when Kailen struck him dead center. That opened the way for him. He drove his horse through the middle, opening a clear path shooting left and right. He’d
become a berserker at Fritiof’s command. The lucky minions exploded; the unlucky fragmented, leaving poisonous green ooze splattered on his legs and the ground below.
Mered’s advance carved a gaping hole on the eastern flank. Vampires appeared and disappeared through the throng; mangled minion body parts scattered. The elves changed the direction of their rifles to the north. A lieutenant had snaked through. Instead of using his beam, the beast engaged Alain in hand-to-hand combat. Metal swords clashed; sparks flew where they scraped each other. The lieutenant swung down. Alain parried the strike. In the next moment, the elf pulled a hidden short gun from his belt, fired, and jumped back, far from the venom the lieutenant expelled. Alain released a victorious guttural yell.
The cacophony of battle intensified as Kailen’s attack progressed to the thickest part of the minions’ army. Behind him, an avenue of destruction and debris remained. Where he rode, no one survived. Exactly how he wanted it. The Titanian and shifter army fanned out, pushing the minions against the middle. Straight ahead, Eachann and his companions towered. Soon, the allied forces would decimate the enemy.
And Astarot would face defeat. Where was the daemon hiding?
Kailen squinted ahead, searching for the daemon, and froze. Separated from the group, a fallen wolf rolled in agony. Brant had run to his side. Kneeling, he fired lightning beams to keep attacking subcreatures from overwhelming the shifter. He was so focused on his protective duty, he didn’t see the two lieutenants approaching from both sides. Alone, he wouldn’t last.
“Hup!” Kailen urged his horse. The stallion opened its stride and vaulted over the brook devouring the distance to Brant. Kailen hurled his dagger into the first monster’s arm. The brief pause cost the lieutenant dearly. Kailen fired his light sword. The lieutenant burst, but the other had time to react. It shot its lightning directly before Kailen’s horse’s hooves. The stallion lost his footing and stumbled forward, throwing Kailen. As the lieutenant prepared to fire the kill shot, a bolt of lightning came from behind Kailen, and the lieutenant dissolved.
Panic squeezed his heart. “No, no, no!” he screamed. Nadrine had defended him.
The Last Danann (Titanian Chronicles, #2) Page 3