Fate of an Empire (Talurian Empire Trilogy Book 1)

by Pasquariello, Jonathan

  Thorns the size of broadswords grew from the Forestials’ arms, landing in the chests of the undead. Thandril was next, and barreled through, splitting the line into two sections. Arteus’ blade fell upon four of them before they could regain their footing. The rest of the Talurians troops entered the battle. They fought with the strength of a force triple their size, but that would still not be enough.

  Balar roared, sending a ripple across the courtyard dropping the Talurians to their knees.

  The undead lashed out with the advantage and drove their blades into disoriented troops. The surviving warriors managed to deflect the blows but were pushed back further. An unexpected, mental hiccup occurred throughout the undead. Something had caused their controller to lose focus.

  Balar was distracted.

  The remaining Talurians regrouped. Shouts could be heard coming from outside the Keep.

  “The Merkadians?” Arteus breathed heavily. His left arm limply hung at his side. “They sure know how to take advantage of a situation.”

  “They are coming to help.” Thandril grabbed the Captain’s arm. “You alright? Let me see.”

  Arteus laughed. “They are helping themselves to our remains.”

  “I’ve an understanding with their leaders.”

  “What?” Arteus pulled his arm away. “Was that where you were when I couldn’t find you?” He glared at the druid. “Have you delivered us into the hands of our enemies?”

  “Balar is the enemy,” Thandril said, “He created the disease that threatens us. It gives him power, and he will use that to unleash an attack on the Merkadians. The man Balar seeks to destroy is his own brother, whom he will sacrifice anything to defeat. We will all be dead if he is not stopped. They set up a temporary alliance with me, to kill Balar.” He scanned the crowd, looking for the dark magician. “Things have become more complicated.”

  “And when were you going to tell me all this?” Arteus asked, looking sincerely hurt.

  “I’m sorry. I should have brought you in on it. We had limited time.” Thandril shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. If we still stay alive until the Merkadians arrive, we might stand a chance.”

  “I’m not so sure they will make it.” Arteus pointed through one of the broken segments of the wall. The Merkadians were rushing at the invisible force field, unable to penetrate it. “I guess Balar thought they might do that.”

  Thandril gritted his teeth. “He seems to keep doing that.”

  Balar rebalanced his attention and again the undead were taking the offensive.

  * * *

  “Damn it,” Sweat beaded on Taverous’ forehead. “I can’t break it.”

  Mathis and Lasal added their strength. “He planned every bit of this.” Taverous squeezed the words through gritted teeth. “The ward is too strong to be an immediate spell. He worked on this for some time!”

  “Steady,” Mathis said, “You can break it. You’ll find a way.”

  Taverous shifted through the intricate weave of magic, pulling strand after strand, with no progress. “Wait. I have an idea.” He followed along the path of the shield until finding the end and then moved his mind across the back. “It’s strong at the front, but there are weak spots behind. One more minute. Hold on…Got it!”

  A hum echoed over the battleground and a weight in the air dissipated. Taverous smiled and then slumped down to his knees, exhausted. “This brother will be the death of me.”

  * * *

  Kaillum reacted instantly, sprinting for the Keep. His soldiers right behind. He saw Arclite and his company approaching from the far side, some of the faster runners were already picking their way through the debris of the wall. Renewed, he let out a howl and moved even quicker. This day would be theirs—one way or another.

  In moments, Kaillum reached the perimeter. He jumped and climbed over the crumbled masonry. The inner yard was overwhelming to the senses. He tried to take in the situation. Groups of undead soldiers under Balar’s command dotted the court while strange, treelike people fought alongside the Talurians.

  The scale was tipped in Balar’s favor, but they were there to change that.

  “Form up!” Kaillum shouted to his arriving soldiers. “We move on my mark.” He saw Arclite’s forces grouping to the north of them.

  Then, in the chaos of soldiers ahead, Kaillum saw Thandril. The man fought with devastating strength, yet held a chilling calm on his face. Kaillum was glad they were the same side today.

  Kaillum saw Arclite start to charge.

  “Now!”

  His wedge of soldiers slammed into the line of undead, giving the Talurians a moment to breathe. They struck out in unison, dropping the front line to the ground. Kaillum noticed some of his troops exchanging friendly nods to the scattered Talurians. A shadow crossed over Kaillum. He turned to find Thandril standing next to him.

  “Glad you could show,” Thandril said, passively.

  Kaillum grinned, “Sorry it took longer than we expected.”

  A shrill whistle shot through the air and, as commanded, the undead retreated to their Master. Arteus joined Kaillum and Thandril, and together, they watched the remaining undead huddle back into the far corner of the courtyard. Behind them, were the Staffwielders, followed by a circle of the six-armed warriors, and at the center was Balar. All stood at ease, but Balar was hidden from view.

  Kaillum, Thandril, and Arteus started to inch forward.

  Kaillum saw Arclite moving out of the corner of his eye. The Tearanei was carrying what looked like a spear and shield, but they were made entirely of shimmering energy—another spell. The use of magic caught the eye of a pair of Staffwielders. With a flash, they hurled two bolts at Arclite. Their projectiles were blocked and absorbed by his magic shield.

  This gained him more attention.

  “We might be getting some distraction courtesy of my friend,” Kaillum said, “This could be our chance to attack and push our way into Balar.”

  Thandril put his hand out to stop Kaillum. “No. We are too late.”

  Balar started to float from the circle, his staff twisting in the air. Unheard words dripped from his mouth.

  A hazy green fog started to flow from him.

  Kaillum heard Arclite yelling to his troops to retreat.

  This is it. The attack that Taverous had feared; the attack that would kill them all.

  “No!” A shout rumbled the courtyard, followed by a bright dart of light. The object sent Balar crashing into the wall.

  A quivering Taverous stood over his body, cradling a bloodied fist.

  The small amount of fog dissipated as quickly as it had started to spread.

  Balar stood to his feet. A stream of blood trickled from the side of his head. “Almost brother. I was this close to having the incantation done.” Balar held his fingers apart. “Now, I’ll have to kill you and do it all over again.” He spat. His tone carried annoyance more than anger.

  Taverous took a deep breath, stood tall, and pushed his shoulders back. “I am as ready as I am going to be.”

  And with that, Balar launched himself at his brother while his undead charged the Merkadian and Talurian army.

  Chapter 45: A Competition of Brothers

  Balar crashed into Taverous, dropping him to the ground. He followed with a downward swipe of his staff. Taverous pulled his sword from its scabbard, barely deflecting the attack. The contact of the magical weapons exploded in a kaleidoscope of colors and rattled the courtyard.

  Taverous’ sword blazed with vigor previously unseen to the Merkadians. Balar’s staff twisted in his hands, as he tried to overcome the sword’s strength.

  Taverous kicked out and caught Balar in the side, giving him the chance he needed to regain his feet. He whipped his hand around and hurled a bolt of energy at his brother. Balar swatted it away with ease. Taverous let go of his sword, holding it in the air with his mind, and, with both hands-free, unleashed a flurry of bolts. He took a step forward with each thrust, and, equally, Ba
lar had to take a step back with each block.

  Taverous moved his older brother closer and closer to the wall.

  Balar recognized his situation and, upon reaching the wall, put up a stronger shield that encapsulated his body. He jumped and kicked off the wall, sending him flying into the air, high over the Keep’s walls.

  Taverous turned his gaze to watch him escape.

  He waited a moment to follow and scanned the scene below. The Merkadians and Talurians were holding their own, but, at the current rate, the undead would be defeated at the same time the remaining troops of both armies were decimated.

  He looked for the Staffwielders.

  The common soldiers didn’t have much of a chance against them. He spotted a group holding a circular formation twenty yards off. With the same attack he had just used against Balar, he rained down a volley of bolts upon them. They deflected a few but were soon overcome to a brutal end.

  The troops who saw cheered.

  He noticed the Druid also nodded his thanks before moving on to his next target. Taverous smiled. He liked that man. With a thought, he lifted into the air and flew after his brother.

  * * *

  Kaillum reeled his sword through the air, catching three undead across their throats. With a howl, he kicked their gurgling bodies to the ground. They had to be making some headway, but he dared not stop and look. A soldier was cut down in front of him, and now in his path stood one of the massive, six-armed creatures. It snarled at him and lowered his head to charge. Kaillum gripped his sword and shield, bracing for impact.

  It never came.

  A glowing spear flew through the air impaling the monster’s head. It was thrown with so much strength, that the blow launched the creature to its side taking a few other undead to the ground. Arclite appeared a second behind, pulling his swords from his back, and finished his victims before they could recover.

  Kaillum noticed the warriors sleek metal armor was covered head to toe in blood. He looked the vision of a necromancer’s abomination. His visor was closed tight and his eyes glowed furiously beneath.

  A roar came from behind them. One of the undead, with unique markings painted on his body, stood atop the far wall. He waved in the direction of the Merkadians campsite. They all ran toward him and, upon reaching the wall, started to scale the sheer rock face.

  Kaillum sprinted after them, pulling every soldier he passed. His forces were growing tired, but they couldn’t stop. The break in combat lulled them into a stupor, and he couldn’t let them stay that way. Kaillum felt the presence of Thandril jogging behind him. He found comfort in his enemy for the moment.

  “We need to end this,” Thandril growled.

  “Agreed.”

  “They are going to take the fight to you now.”

  “I can see that.”

  With a grunt, Thandril sped past him and jumped on the heels of a group of undead stragglers. “Faster!” He shouted, yanking the head off one of his prey.

  Kaillum leapt over another of the fallen and pushed himself harder. The majority of undead were already working their way down the backside of the wall. He reached the barrier and tried to climb. He couldn’t find any suitable handholds or places to boost himself up. The rest of the soldiers arrived and encountered the same difficulty. The undead had certain physical advantages and those had enabled them to climb the seemingly unclimbable wall.

  “Damn it,” Kaillum cursed under his breath, “This won’t work. We need to go back to the breaks in the wall. Go!” He moved about the crowd and pushed men in the right direction. At that moment, the sky broke open, and thunderous rain spilled out. “Perfect.” Kaillum shook his head and hustled to take lead of his company.

  * * *

  Rain fell hard on Taverous’ face, as lightning etched the sky in harsh lines. He scanned the battlefield before him—the stretch of land that the Merkadians had fought for, inch by inch, eventually forcing the Talurian army into their Keep. Now the fight was coming back toward them, but that wasn’t his major concern at the moment.

  Taverous felt Balar before he could see him. He had been engaged by Mathis and Lasal. Separately, they would not last long, but together, they could stall him momentarily. That gave Taverous the time he needed. Once he spotted them, he sent a massive orb of energy rippling through the air.

  Balar gripped Mathis’ fist mid-strike, landing his own blow under the Tearanei’s ribs. A potion crashed under his feet—Lasal’s doing. Balar snarled at the seer. His feet started to freeze but, with a laugh, he closed his eyes, and as quickly as the potion started to take effect, it reversed and dissipated into the dirt.

  Balar was almost too late in sensing Taverous’ attack. He whirled around, thrusting his staff into the air. The tip shattered the sphere, causing an explosion of brilliant light.

  Taverous watched as his brother easily defended against his attack. He let out a frustrated sigh. He knew that, in regards to combat, he was far from Balar’s equal.

  Balar launched at Taverous, blood-red energy building within his palms. “My turn,” He said with a grin.

  Taverous held his position and concentrated on gathering his energy for a shield. Balar came directly to him and unleashed a shockwave of power from his outstretched hands, throwing even himself back. Taverous’ shield groaned under the weight of the attack. Small holes in the defense started to form. Taverous reinforced each one as quickly as possible, but it wasn’t enough.

  The shield collapsed and the searing energy burned over his body. With the sound of Balar’s menacing laugh ringing in his ears, Taverous fell from the sky.

  * * *

  Kaillum tumbled down the last bit of debris, mud splattering across his armor. He jumped back to his feet and got his bearings straight. The undead had a large lead on his troops. They were almost at the Merkadian campsite. Only a small number of soldiers stayed behind in case of emergency—far too few to hold the last of the undead.

  A falcon screeched overhead, circling two times before flying in the direction of the camp.

  They got closer and closer, hearing the sounds of swords clashing against each other, and the clang of metal on shields. Kaillum fought to keep at his brutal pace, demanding the same from his fellow warriors. The tribesmen from Kilgar, Chargon, and Targa were used to the physical demands, but the Merkadians were a horse riding people.

  Kaillum reached the outer perimeter and engaged a small group of undead placed as guards to cut off their path. He spun to avoid a blade and landed his own strike to the back of the offender. With a parry and counterattack, he drove through the next. One by one they came, and each, he disabled for his following troops to finish.

  There it was. The command pavilion.

  His father, along with his siblings, would be there. He rounded a corner, but it was tightly blocked by a group of Thandril’s Forestials locked in battle with a pair of six-armed warriors. There was a nearby embankment and, if carefully navigated, he could put himself directly at the back of the command tent. He motioned for two soldiers to follow him and for the rest to help wherever they could.

  The steep bank was littered with debris from the city fire. Kaillum fought for good footing as mingling streams turned to rivers under his feet. The two men who accompanied him were having an, even more, difficult time. A high buzz ramped up in front of him. He looked to see a Staffwielder launching an attack their way.

  He narrowly jumped away from the blast, but his companions were engulfed in the fiery light, convulsing and crumbling to the ground.

  A large rock flew over Kaillum, crashing into the Staffwielder and removing its head. Thandril came jogging up to him. To his astonishment, Thandril moved over the difficult terrain with ease. The druid reached the Prince, picked him off the ground, and continued forward along the embankment with Kaillum on his shoulder.

  Kaillum bounced against Thandril as he moved. “Thanks.”

  All he got was a grunt in response.

  * * *

  Taverous’ eye
s slowly blinked open.

  His vision hazy and his body tingled. He reached up, running his hand over his face. With a hiss, he pulled it away. The skin was boiled and crackling. He tried to focus his eyes, but nothing helped. A sound from behind made him twist around, awakening injuries he had yet to discover. He collapsed to the ground and made out the shape of boots skidding to a halt in front of his face.

  The owner squatted down next to him.

  There were two voices; someone else stood out of his field of vision, both—frightened, upset voices.

  They were saying something, but the words were muffled and out of reach to Taverous’ hearing. He felt hands seize his arms and legs. The pain made him want to scream out, but his mouth resisted his commands. The men carried him away, to who knows where. The muffled sounds of battle grew quieter and quieter. They were moving further from the action.

  He was set down and a soft roll of material was tucked under his head. One of the men kneeled next to him and held his hands over Taverous’ chest. A light started to emanate from his palms. The light was cool and made his skin relax. The pain lessened slightly. Taverous knew who were with him now, Mathis and Lasal. The tension in his head and back relaxed. He was safe for the moment and slipped into a much-needed unconsciousness.

  * * *

  Mathis mended his wounds, but the injury was too much for a complete healing. “Damn it…” He shook his head.

  “What now?” Lasal asked, resting his hand on Taverous’ shoulder.

  “He’ll live, but I don’t know in what condition. I’ll try to repair more later.” Mathis paused, “He is done in this fight.”

  Lasal nodded, understanding the weight of that statement. If Balar was not stopped, there would be no later. Everyone would be dead. “I’ll watch him. You know they need you.”

  Mathis stood to his feet. “Alright. Be careful. Balar might come looking for him.” He took a last look at his creator and took off at a run, entering back into the fight.