by Nesa Miller
“Do this and I will release you from all oaths owed to me. You will be free of me and any bonds we have.” He was ready to draw his swords if his methods of persuasion needed a boost. “Is that enough, or does it require a blood oath, as well?”
A fresh barrage of private discussions raced up and down the table. The demon lords took their time, forcing Dar to wait. Eventually, Leviathan raised his head, speaking on everyone’s behalf. “To see the High Lord’s blood spilled in any capacity is an enticing offer. However, we have come to an agreement that does not require such a commitment on your part. To know that after we have fulfilled our part of the bargain, we owe you nothing is sufficient. And…if you ever return here or any demon realm, you will be torn limb from limb and your remains distributed throughout every territory as a reminder of our power.”
Granach added one more assurance. “Familia tua patietur eodem fato (Your family will suffer the same fate).”
All heads nodded in agreement. Leviathan’s slit of a mouth turned up at the corners. “In what manner shall we enter this Alamir realm?”
The terms were no less than what Dar had expected. “When the time comes, I will open a portal for each of your worlds. How soon will your armies be ready to march?”
“We are ready.” The perplexed expression on Dar’s face led him to explain. “We have known of their intent for some time. It was only a matter of time before either you or the Bok came to request our services. How fortunate for you and your Alamir subjects that you were the first to arrive.”
Dar swallowed hard. With their business concluded, the demon lords bid farewell and passed through their respective portals, back to the hells from which they originated. Dar watched the mass exodus without saying a word, but his mind raced with colorful curses directed at each demon upon their exit.
She clung to his arm, pouting like a small child. “You can’t leave me here alone. What am I supposed to do?”
Freeblood placed a hand over hers. “You’re supposed to stay in your room and behave…no fighting, no conjuring, nothing, nada. Just stay put until I come back.”
“Where’re you going?” Her tightened grip made her nails dig into his skin.
He winced and tried to loosen her hold. “I’m going to help Dar and the others.”
“No! You can’t go out there!” A wild look came into her eyes and her tail snaked up, encircling his hips. “You have to stay here with me. There’s no telling what kind of trouble I’ll get into without you to watch me.”
“You…are…not…going…to…get…into…anything.” He spoke each word distinctly as he disentangled himself from her clutches.
“I will.” She stomped a foot, glaring. “I can’t stay cooped up in here.” She dashed to the window, but her only view was of the sea. “You can’t go out there.”
He drew a deep breath through his nose and sighed. “You’re going to stay here, out of harm’s way, and I’m going to go out there and fight. When I get back, we’re going to sit down and discuss what the hell you were doing upstairs.” He went to her, but she stepped away. “You will do as I say, Faux. If not for me, then for the sake of your baby.”
“I don’t care about the stupid baby!” she screamed. “If you stay here with me, you won’t get hurt. He promised…” She bit her tongue.
“He?” Anger burned away any concern he had for his safety or hers. He snatched her wrist before she could escape. “Who the hell is ‘he’? Are you talking about Dar?” She twisted her arm, trying to get away, and made a stab with her tail, which Freeblood easily dodged. He pushed her up against the windows, pinning the malevolent tail between her and the glass, making her yelp. “It doesn’t matter right now,” he said between clenched teeth. “I’m in this fight whether he likes it or not. The next time you make a deal with the devil, you’d better make sure I’m on board.” He let her go and stalked to the door. “If you don’t stay put, I’ll tell Dar what I saw upstairs, and I won’t do a damn thing to help you.” He slammed the door and went to face whatever future Lady Fate had in store for him.
A mist fell over the warriors of Laugharne. Inferno, the Black Blades, and other Alamir volunteers sat in wait outside the shield Spirit had placed around the castle. The Ambassadors stood with the War Wizards along the ramparts. Inferno noticed a black-armored warrior come from the compound. He placed a hand on the hilt of his blade and watched the stranger stop to speak with a Black Blade who immediately ran toward the stables. Inferno thought it odd and was taken aback when the black knight approached him as though it were nothing unusual. His grip tightened on his sword.
“The time is almost upon us, Inferno. Does everyone understand their part?”
Hearing a familiar voice, he blew out a relieved breath. “Dar? Ya bloody wanker. Ya damn near made me heart stop.”
“Ah… Sorry, Inferno. A necessary evil with the demons.” Dar retracted the headpiece.
“Aye. Speaking of demons, there was plenty argument about them.”
“I understand their concerns, but I have a plan once the battle is underway.” The Black Blade returned, leading a feisty, black stallion. “Good choice, Blade. A demon for a demon.” Dar vaulted into the saddle. “I’m not waiting for the Bok to attack. My demons and I will take it to them. We’ll do all we can to keep the fight away from Laugharne.” The stallion stamped and snorted, ready to run. “Stay close to the barrier.”
“Aye. Don’t get yerself killed.”
“By the way, I don’t know if they will get this far, but should you encounter anything resembling a goblin, run. Do not engage. You’ll only get killed.” The protective headpiece spanned over his head again. Dar whirled the horse with a pull on the reins and was gone.
Once a safe distance out, Dar murmured a chant, erecting his own protective barrier between his comrades and the demons he went to call. Those within the invisible barrier watched as dozens of portals opened. Although safe from any intended attack by the hundreds of demons passing through, the barrier could not protect them from the smell of hellfire and pure putrescence pouring from the portals. The demon army gathered in front of Dar.
“I am the High Lord of Kaos.” Great white wings extended from his back, a glow of power surrounding him. “Most days, you and I stand in opposition. We battle. Some days, I win; other days, you take the trophy.” A concerted chuckle of agreement pulsed through the throng. “The one thing we have in common is our freedom…freedom to live, freedom to fight, freedom to do as we damn well please. This Bok would make slaves of us all - Alamir, Krymerian, elf, and demon. Today, we take the fight to the enemy to protect our worlds from their dark rule. Today, we fight to secure freedom for us all.”
The demon army responded with raised weapons and promises of death to all the Bok. Dar and his horde rode out. Cresting the first rise, he was surprised to find the enemy had moved so close to Laugharne. He called out as the Bok scrambled to pick up their weapons and grab their mounts. “Turn back now and we may let you live.” His mount reared from the energy raging through his master. Dar’s muscular thighs held him fast in the saddle. “Pursue this fight, and you shall come to the same end as your murderous brothers. You will all die.”
Lord Darknight and his army of demons waited, but not for long. Their answer came in the form of fire blasts that devastated most of the front line. More demons stepped up, filling in the gaps. Dar retracted his wings, spurring his mount into the oncoming mass of Bok.
30
Taken
For this auspicious occasion, Dathmet wore red armor a shade so deep and dark, it was nearly black. The helm, shaped into the head of a snarling lion, concealed his crown of flames. Mounted on his fiery stallion, he overlooked the battlefield from a nearby hilltop and listened to Dar’s inspiring speech to his hack of an army. His words impressed the blood-skinned demon, but it was the fact the man led the charge into the expanse of Bok that won his respect. His fall would be the hardest and the most gratifying.
One of the many lessons D
athmet had learned from his father was that nothing ever went according to plan, to always have another course of action. Thankfully, he had several alternate avenues to pursue this time. Some were necessary; some were for pure pleasure. The destruction of these Alamir addressed the pleasure aspect. With them eliminated, she would naturally turn to him.
The botched plan to destroy the protection spell around the castle brought a flame to his eyes. When the second magical barrier had appeared, it sharpened the irritation into a burning rage. He was ready to ride down the fucking Krymerian and kill him right then and there. Were it not for Thamuz and his wise words, all may have been lost. Once he was done here, he would sponsor a hunt for the scorpion bitch and let the champion who caught her choose her fate. As for his promise to Faux, she would be disappointed over the fate of her meddling prick.
The growing list of failures set his teeth on edge. His flaming steed shifted its weight and rolled the bit in its mouth. The only end that had any meaning for Dathmet was possession of the woman. The capture of the stones was well in hand, but she would be the crowning glory. Her show of power at Deudraeth had saved him the trouble of disciplining Cromorth for his blunder. Kromok’s severed head atop the western turret of his blood-red castle served as an example of failure.
Straddled atop his chestnut mare, Inferno watched the dark swarm converge upon the Krymerian and his horde. Turning slightly, he waved a hand, signaling to the wizards standing on the castle ramparts. A chorus of chanting voices rose up to the heavens. Lightning slashed through the dark skies, grey clouds billowing and churning. The wizards continued to chant, watching the battlefield. Black lightning slashed through the clouds in a heavenly dance of death and tore into the battlefield, ripping into the Bok, as well as Dar’s demons. Scorched earth sizzled as the falling rain swirled blood and ash into a miasma of muck. Inferno pondered if this was Dar’s plan from the beginning, or had the wizards chosen to ensure that no demons remained alive once the battle was done? His mount shifted, the movement bringing him back to the scene before him.
“Doesn’t matter much. The only good demon be a bloody dead one.”
Those Bok who were able to avoid both the wizards’ fire and Dar’s demons slammed into the Black Blades shield wall. Metal rang against metal, horses screamed, and men cursed as the day erupted in a spray of blood, bone, and flesh. The wizards turned from Dar’s battlefield to the skirmish threatening the gates of Laugharne. Inferno and his clansmen rushed in to join the Black Blades. Aided by the wizards’ magic, they halted the advance and began to push the enemy back. Rain splashed over the ground, running red with blood.
Positioned at the northeastern corner, Linq circled his squadron of Blades around to the rear of the Bok, placing the enemy in between the allied lines and closing off any avenue of escape. Aramis followed his instincts and turned his Dragon clan to the west to secure their lines from that direction.
Amid the fighting, a deafening war cry echoed from the north as a band of unknown Alamir charged down the hill. The fact they carried no banner was enough to show they were clanless. Inferno felt a surge of pride prickle over his skin at the sight of the swarm.
His pride soon turned to horror when another wave of evil surged into the conflict, the front line led by a string of the biggest and ugliest goblins Inferno had ever seen. They also came from the north and proceeded to mow down the unknown Alamir. Fuck me. Although the goblins were a surprise, the allies had prepared for such a move. Inferno dug his heels into his horse’s sides and turned him away from the fight. He signaled the six Blades who had been designated for a special task. Their horses snorted and pulled at their reins in anticipation. Inferno lit a fireball in his hand so intense, it defied the falling rain. Each rider grabbed a torch strapped to their saddles and dipped it into the flame. The torches blazed in wait for the signal.
When the enemy line veered toward the castle and began to close in on the rear of his command, Inferno cocked his head. The six Blades raced like the wind past the goblins and the Bok, three riding north, and three riding south. One from each group pulled up at a strategic spot, while their brothers raced on. Several paces later, another two broke off, until all arrived at their assigned posts. The final two reached their mark just as the Bok rode past. When one Blade signaled to the one across from him, the two lowered their torches to the waiting pitch hidden beneath the green grass. When the flames caught, the elves’ steered their horses away as the fire swept through the shallow burning ditches, threw the torches into the flames, and drew their swords. Although an initial surprise to the Bok, they laughed at the primitive attempt of the elves to hinder the advance and hurried on to join their comrades.
Another signal passed between the first set of Blades. Again, torches touched the ground, sending another line of orange fire across the field, dividing the frontline of goblins and Bok from the Alamir. Pressed by the rear, those in the lead were unable to escape from the wall of flames. Goblins sneered, howled, and lashed out. Bok horses screamed and collided as they fought to avoid the fangs of the panicking goblins and the bite of the flames. Some were able to turn their mounts from the fray, but others were not as lucky, either succumbing to the wrath of the goblins or crashing into the wall of flames. Horses and men alike dispersed in different directions, blinded by the smoke and fire that consumed them.
The final two Blades, between the rear and front lines, waited for those astride their mounts to circle around. Just as the enemy recognized the break between the flame walls, the central Blades set the final piece of the trap. A fresh wall of fire ripped around, completing the circle. Once the flames united, several Black Blades stationed near Laugharne lifted their bows and sent a curtain of flaming arrows into the mass. Four trails of flames burst to life, quartering the circle. Trapped in the fiery furnace, the enemy squadron was too busy fighting to stay alive to be of any use to their cohorts. The certain demise of the northern attack force freed the six Blades to rejoin the Laugharne ranks.
A disgusted Dathmet watched the Bok’s attack fall apart. When he waved his hand, a single archer stepped forward from the others, bow in one hand, arrow in the other. “Make it count.” The bowman turned his longbow to the ground, resting the arrow against his hand. With the arrow nocked, he brought the weapon up, taking aim. Two fingers drew the string in line with his ear. He breathed in. Dathmet smiled at the sweet release, watching the arrow close in on its target.
East of the writhing throng, Dar invited the demon within to take over, tapping into the bloodlust to perform his dance of death. He tore into the enemy, annihilating anything that came within reach of his twin scimitars. His only objective was to protect his family and friends at any cost. The black stallion circled round, guided only by the pressure of his master’s thighs. The pair opened a bloodied path of destruction as they worked their way through another oncoming squadron of Bok.
In time, he turned to find he stood alone, positioned above the conflict. He tucked away his blades and took a moment to assess the scene. The black armor released down to his waist, exposing his upper body to the cooling mist. He took advantage of the moment and grabbed his canteen for a quick drink. As he drank, he observed the hoard of demons, determined to end their blood allegiance to the High Lord, fighting as heroically as any Krymerian. The stallion stamped and shook his massive head, eager to be off again. Dar looked beyond the smoke toward Laugharne to see how Inferno and the others were faring. The grey day amplified the blackness of the infection spreading ever closer to the great castle.
We can’t keep this up. A sudden empathy wriggled in as the memory of what had caused this travesty manifested in his mind. My solar ultimà may be the only way.
Ready to rejoin the battle, he slipped the canteen away and reached for Burning Heart when a hot flash seared into his left shoulder before his black armor had a chance to re-engage. Dar grunted, his back arching at the intrusion. His mount, spooked by the sudden jerk on the reins, screamed and reared with a heated snort.
Dar scrambled to hold on, but with the arrow jutting from his shoulder, he was unable to do much more than leap away from the frightened animal in the hopes that neither ended up injured or dead. He hit the mud with a jolt, a sharp pain ripping through his shoulder. The horse kept his balance, but shied away, nostrils flared and eyes wild.
Dar sat up, groaning. “Whoa, easy boy. You’re okay. I’m the one on his ass.” He staggered to his feet, grimacing from the white-hot pain caused by the arrow. “Réiteach, mo chara (Settle, my friend).” Dar carefully approached. “Tá tú ceart go leor (You are okay). Shhhhhh.”
“I ain’t sure of what you just said, but he looks okay. Afraid I can’t say the same for you.”
Dar stroked the horse’s nose, smirked, and turned to a ragtag bunch of what appeared to be young Alamir. Their dirty faces reminded him of the clan Etain had belonged to when she first came to this world. “You boys shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”
The shaggy-haired mouthpiece of the gang showed off his shiny new pistol. “I got a CZ here that says different.”
Dar eyed the rest of the gang, who also seemed compelled to show off their toys. Not much of a gun expert, due to their ineffectiveness outside the human realm, he was nonetheless impressed by what he saw – Ruger .22, XP100, AK-47, even a shotgun or two. He chuckled at their naïveté.