“None. Even the mages can barely cast spells anymore. All I have to offer now is a good strong arm, which is what I had intended before coming across you.”
Aryx grimaced. One strong arm would serve the battered defenders little at this point. Rand’s other abilities would have better suited the dire straits in which they now found themselves, but despite evidence to the contrary, the cleric insisted that they had vanished.
Then what force surrounded the human? If it did not originate from Kiri-Jolith, then from where?
A cry, a minotaur cry, made both of them start. Aryx peered through the fog with the dragon eye. Far away, he could see a Magori shuffling by, its sword crimson. Aryx swore, almost tempted to go after the murderous abomination. If something did not turn the course of events soon, even the power of a hundred master clerics or wizards would be unable to save his people.
“Human … Rand … you’ve got to try again!”
Rand shook his head. He looked older than when Aryx had first met him, but the warrior supposed that the cleric saw similar changes in the minotaur. “What is the point? I pray to Kiri-Jolith, I ask him to channel his power through me … and little happens.”
“Well, then, if the power won’t come from him, draw it—” He stared, noticing how the energy always seemed to radiate outward from the human. A thought flashed through his mind. “Draw it from yourself.” Aryx knew nothing about magic or divine spells, but surely the aura that permeated Rand had to be of some use. He had noticed it around no one else … not that Aryx had had much of an opportunity to look. Somehow the gray minotaur suspected that with the aura, the cleric could do something, however slight.
“Draw the power from myself? Without my patron, I have no power, Aryx! That is how my faith works!”
“And I tell you, you have power of your own!” Determined to convince his companion, Aryx pulled Rand close. As they touched, the aura flared stronger, nearly blinding the minotaur. “The gods might have abandoned us, Rand, but something still flows through you! This eye—my eye—sees something in you!”
“You are mad!” The human tore free. “I have nothing!”
Aryx tried a different tactic, thinking of his own choices. “Then if Carnelia still lives, she’ll certainly die soon … and probably at the end of a lance.”
Mention of the female knight had the desired effect. Rand’s already pale visage turned chalky white. The cleric trembled, probably picturing in his mind the image of his love skewered by a savage Magori. “Carnelia …”
The aura flared brighter still. Aryx had to shield the emerald orb. Could Rand truly not see what evidently lurked within and around him? If not the power from a god or magic as most knew it, what could it be?
A new magic that is very old, a voice in his head replied.
Aryx glared at the sheathed blade, but the Sword of Tears remained suspiciously quiet. Yet if the demon blade had not spoken, then the voice he had heard must have been his own thoughts. The minotaur grunted. Perhaps Rand had the right of it; perhaps Aryx had gone mad after all.
“You are correct, of course,” Rand blurted. “Kiri-Jolith would expect nothing less from me. The tenets of my faith insist on always believing in yourself as well, for how can all the power a god might grant be of any use if the vessel is insufficient to the task? I must believe that I can do it.…”
Aryx had no idea whether or not what his companion said made any sense, but if it at least made Rand try, that would be all the weary minotaur could ask.
“Look within you,” he suggested to the human, thinking of how the aura seemed to radiate from inside Rand. The concept had some similarities with the basics of minotaur combat training. A warrior who did not have confidence in his abilities did not survive long. “Draw from within you.”
The clatter of arms warned them that the fighting had spread in their direction. Aryx turned to face whatever might confront them, but he left the untrustworthy blade sheathed, hoping he could draw it quickly if danger threatened. “You’d better start now, cleric, while we still have time!”
“Yes …” Rand seemed caught up in his thoughts. “Yes.”
To Aryx’s dismay, he sat down among the rubble, almost as if planning to relax. Then the minotaur saw that the cleric muttered something under his breath, almost as if he sought to put himself into a trance.
This had better work! Aryx concentrated, seeing the aura increase slightly. Whether that meant hope, he could not say. At this point, everything depended on Rand’s will.
A shadowy form stepped toward their position, a form too tall for a human in armor and too broad for a minotaur. The lance it held had wicked barbs and more than one tip. Even had Aryx not seen its wielder, the weapon alone would have warned him that here approached no friend.
Reluctantly he drew the Sword of Tears. The green stone remained dull. Aryx wondered if that meant that the blade’s powers had faded, too. If so, he would have to treat the artifact like any other weapon and hope his own skills had not rusted from too much faith in magic.
Taking one last glance behind him, he saw that Rand had stiffened. As seen through the dragon orb, the cleric blazed gloriously. Surely something had to come of all that energy, but would it be enough? If Rand could disperse the fog from the edges of Nethosak, it would give the defenders hope.
The next moment he had to forget about clerics and fog as the Magori warrior stepped into sight. To Aryx’s dismay, a second shadow appeared. How many more were there?
Gritting his teeth, the battle-worn minotaur charged toward the first, crying out as he attacked.
The nearest Magori backed up at the sound, almost colliding with the second. Aryx thrust under its guard, but the sword struck the armored hide and bounced off. As he feared, he could not trust the artifact’s power any longer.
Recovering, Aryx’s nearest foe swung the lance like a staff, trying to bowl the minotaur over. Aryx ducked under the attack, then thrust for the throat. He nicked the snout instead, but the wound deterred the Magori long enough for the warrior to regain his ground.
The second reaver attempted to get by its companion, but the damage caused by the quake made the footing treacherous. The Magori slipped, dropping its sword and falling forward. The accident pushed the first attacker off center, opening him up to another thrust by Aryx.
This time the blade did its work, sinking into the soft throat. Retreating swiftly, Aryx managed to avoid all but a few drops of the acidic blood.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rand still concentrating, but now the human raised his hands over his head. Unfortunately, the aura around him had grown dimmer, not brighter. He wondered if the cleric still attempted to receive his power from his deity despite the minotaur’s insistence that Rand should look within himself. “Rand! You’re doing something wrong! Kiri-Jolith can’t help you! You’ve got to take it from your—”
Aryx cut off as the second Magori swung at him. He parried the toothy blade, but the two weapons got caught together. The crimson orbs of the Magori flashed, and the abomination tried to pull minotaur and blade toward him. Seeing the reaver’s monstrous maw opening, Aryx knew that it intended to bite him as soon as he came within range. Knowing the potency of that poisonous bite, the minotaur warrior pulled as hard as he could.
The Sword of Tears slid free, but Aryx lost his balance, falling onto his back. The Magori, too, struggled with its balance, but it recovered quickly.
“Rand!”
No word came from the cleric. Aryx rolled to the side, trying to rise in time to defend both of them. He had been too hopeful when Kiri-Jolith’s gift had revealed some sort of power inherent in the human. Aryx had hoped that, with his encouragement, Rand might be able to help them.
They would die, but not without the minotaur doing what he could to save the pair. In desperation, Aryx threw himself at the remaining Magori, hoping to ram one of his own horns into the invader’s neck.
“Yes!”
The triumphant cry meant nothing
to Aryx as his foe wrapped one massive arm around his waist. What followed made both combatants pause, for suddenly a blinding light spread across the immediate area. Aryx, with his back partly toward the source, managed to protect his eyes. The Magori, caught unaware, hissed in obvious consternation, releasing the minotaur and trying to cover its eye cluster.
Aryx made use of its confusion, bringing the tip of his sword through the creature’s snout and into its head. The crustacean shuddered, then tipped backward, collapsing over the rubble.
“Rand! What did—” he stopped, unable to continue.
The cleric stood, arms outstretched. An expression of extreme calm had spread across his face. The silver and blue aura that had surrounded him now extended to envelop Aryx and the two dead Magori as well. The area covered by the aura continued to swell equally in all directions.
Aryx also noticed that wherever the light spread, the fog dissipated. In mere seconds, the street before them had been cleared of the treacherous mist, and now the aura ate away at the murkiness beyond. The minotaur looked around. With or without the use of the dragon orb, he could find no trace of the fog in any location that Rand’s spell had touched.
A Magori stumbled as the blazing light ripped away the protective fog around it. To Aryx’s surprise, the massive creature shook, then began to retreat to where the mists still offered cover. A second and third of the invaders joined it, stumbling around as if half-blind.
Could it be that they cannot see well in brightness? A hopeful thought, for that meant that without the fog, the enemy would lose all formation, be unable to defend themselves properly.
He glanced back at Rand, who had not moved, apparently not even breathed. Curiously, the cleric looked thinner, worn, yet still his expression remained one of peace.
Sunlight shone down on the patch of ground where Aryx stood. He blinked in mild surprise, having forgotten that the battle had begun only a short time before dawn. The fog had left things so dark his mind had never registered the fact that by now the sun had long risen.
The growing sunlight caused further consternation for those invaders caught in it. They hissed, even cringed from the daylight. Aryx did not think they did so because it physically hurt them, but because it somehow scared the aquatic creatures.
A groan warned him just before Rand slumped. The minotaur grabbed the human, barely keeping him from falling to the ground.
“I … I did it.” The cleric managed a weak smile.
“You certainly did … but what did you do?”
The smile widened. “I do not … I do not know … but I did as you said … looked inside me … and found this. Praise be to Kiri-Jolith!”
Aryx could no longer see much of an aura about the human, which concerned him. “The light! Will it—”
“It will go on until it no longer needs to go on. I know that, even though I do not know how I know.”
While Aryx did not quite follow the last part of Rand’s reply, he understood that his fear that the fog would advance again had proven false. Whatever strange magic the cleric had unleashed, it would complete its task.
“Can you move, Rand?”
“With … with your help. My horse … might still be around the back … where I left it.”
The horse did indeed remain where the exhausted cleric had said it would be. Returning to Rand, he helped the human mount, then led the animal out into the suddenly deserted street. To his good fortune, Aryx caught a second horse, a black female that had once belonged to a Knight of Takhisis. Bloodstains across the saddle and the mare’s neck gave indication of what had happened to its master, yet the horse itself had escaped with only a number of shallow slashes, caused, no doubt, by a lance.
A battle horn blared, followed almost immediately by another. Mounting, Aryx looked again to make certain that Rand would be able to make the journey.
As pale as he had grown, Rand managed to sit straight. “Ride as fast as you can, Aryx.… I will manage. I promise.”
Encouraged, the young warrior urged the animals forward, hoping to catch up to the other defenders.
Aryx would hear the story about the turning of the battle from others later on. Many a warrior would give his or her version of how the miraculous blaze of light had burst from within the city, spreading across Nethosak and beyond. The beleaguered defenders, minotaur and human alike, could only imagine that the gods had finally answered their prayers. How else to explain what had happened?
The Magori clearly did not share their relief. Wherever the fog burned away, the crustaceans abandoned the fight, even when only a few still stood against them. Some actually dropped their weapons and fell to the ground, shivering. A few of the generals attempted to take prisoners in the hope of learning more about the foe, but each time they discovered that the crustaceans died shortly thereafter.
The reavers who had not simply dropped dead continued to flee toward the water. Their flight was impeded by their fellows, who, not having seen the oncoming light, reacted with confusion. Magori milled around, trying to both fight and run. They made for easy prey for the revitalized defenders, especially those Knights and minotaurs on horseback.
Aryx and Rand arrived near the shore as the cleric’s astonishing spell ate away the last of the fog that had enshrouded that part of the island. Scores of the crustaceans still remained, and a few even put up some token resistance, but Aryx could already see that nothing could prevent victory for the minotaurs and their allies.
He wanted desperately to join the rest, if only to strike a last blow in the name of all those who had perished, Seph and Delara likely among them. Aryx had seen no sign of either one, and that had been the only thing to darken his mood in this otherwise glorious moment.
Possibly seeing his horned companion’s concern, Rand said, “Go, Aryx! I’ll be all right. I know you’re thinking about your brother and the rest who might have died this day. Go and strike a blow for me!”
“I could never strike a blow as great as you did, Rand!”
The cleric shook his head. “But without your encouragement, I would have done nothing. Now, go, Aryx Dragoneye! Go!”
No longer able to restrain himself, the dusky gray minotaur paused only long enough to pick up a battered war axe that some other defender had lost. No more would Aryx trust the Sword of Tears, not even with victory eminent. The blade had tried to kill one of those he knew, the one who had, in Aryx’s eyes, saved his people.
The mare proved well trained, racing fearlessly toward the remnants of the Magori horde. Aryx let loose a battle cry, heading toward where the abominations clustered thickest. There, at the very edge of the shoreline, several of the aquatic invaders finally chose to make a stand, perhaps fearing the price of failure even more than the unshrouded day. They moved uncertainly, clearly unable to see well in the bright light, but their armored bodies and savage strength still made them deadly.
The war axe might not have been magical, but Aryx already knew the least protected portions of the invaders. He charged past the other defenders, crying out again and swinging at the nearest invader. The Magori thrust its lance, but the sun took its toll, for the crustacean’s lunge went well to the right. Aryx struck at the abomination’s snout, striking down the creature with a single blow.
Outnumbered, disorganized, the Magori still claimed many victims. Attempting to sever the arm from one warrior, a massive crustacean instead decapitated an unfortunate minotaur who stood next to the intended victim. The Magori’s original foe then lunged, plunging her blade through snout and throat.
Again and again Aryx cut through the remaining ranks of the invaders. A demon possessed, he struck at one, then even as that adversary fell, attacked the next. From time to time, Aryx noticed a strange thing. Some of the Magori who faced him hesitated when the minotaur glared at them. Gradually he came to realize that the crustaceans found his emerald eye even more disturbing than his companions had. Aryx did not argue with the added advantage that gave him, for each time he b
attled one of the crustaceans, he saw his own dead before him.
The Magori sought the waves for escape or even attempted to burrow into the sand, but the fury of the minotaurs and the knights did not let them retreat without cost. Several of the aquatic reavers died half-buried in the ground or floating in the harbor. Later, the carnage would stun even the hardiest veterans, but for now the only thing that mattered was the extermination of the savage invaders.
Then, at last, Aryx could find no new foe. He turned his war-horse about, trying to locate at least one more Magori, but only hundreds of corpses met his ferocious gaze. Around him, exhausted warriors from both races fell to their knees or held on to one another as they tried to catch their breath. A number clustered near him, and Aryx realized that, in the end, he had led yet another makeshift force against the last of the invaders.
Some of them looked to him for guidance, and more than a few paid special attention to Kiri-Jolith’s gift. Aryx tried to look as normal as possible as he ordered them to seek out their friends and loved ones. A number of warriors remained behind to guard the shoreline in case the reavers changed their minds again. Aryx doubted there would be a third battle. The rout had been too complete.
Exhausted, Aryx nonetheless refused to rest until he located the others. He rode through the ravaged port, trying to guess where to find Seph, Delara, and even, if they lived, Lord Broedius and Carnelia. Any familiar face would do.
He found the knight commander first. Lord Broedius, helm in hand, stood wiping his forehead as he surveyed the damage. Several subcommanders and minotaur officers conversed with him, no doubt reporting the extent of the damage. Considering the recent formation of their alliance, the humans and Aryx’s people had managed to put together a fairly cohesive force. While the Knights of Takhisis were not exactly the most desirable allies in Aryx’s eyes, he conceded that they had been deserving of respect today.
Reavers of the Blood Sea Page 26