Sevenfold Sword_Warlord

by Jonathan Moeller

  It was a strange thought.

  Calliande shouted for them to follow her, and Kalussa sent a mental command to the four trisalians she had bound. The beasts obeyed, and the trisalian lurched beneath her and started lumbering forward. She felt the ground shuddering beneath their massive feet, heard the thunder of their charge as the trisalians picked up speed. Terror stabbed into Kalussa, and for an instant, she was certain that she was going to lose her balance and die crushed beneath the trisalian’s stamping feet. Or she might just fall and shatter her legs. It was nearly twelve feet from the trisalian’s back to the crushed grass below.

  But she kept her balance. The junction of the trisalian’s neck and barrel-shaped body made an excellent seat, and no matter how much the animal’s body vibrated, Kalussa found that she could keep her balance. The mighty beast picked up speed, and the wind whipped at Kalussa’s face and tugged at her hair.

  This was…

  Against her will, she started to smile.

  This was kind of enjoyable. Under less desperate circumstances, it might have been fun.

  Sir Jolcus whooped, brandishing his sword in the air. That seemed stupid since there was no way he could strike a foe from the back of a trisalian. Yet Kalussa grinned nonetheless.

  “This is unexpectedly enjoyable!” said Kyralion.

  “I know!” called Kalussa back.

  Then the battle came into sight, and Kalussa’s grin faded.

  Her father’s army was about to lose.

  The hoplites had been pushed back, and soon they would crash into her father’s banner and Master Nicion’s remaining Arcanii. King Hektor and the Arcanius Knights rained fire onto King Justin’s hoplites, but the momentum was with King Justin’s men. Kalussa had seen enough of battle to know when men were about to break, and her father’s soldiers were about to break.

  The jotunmiri on the hoplites’ right flank fell back beneath the onslaught of their pagan cousins. The jotunmiri, both sides of them, were bellowing their war sagas, wielding their huge bronze-bound clubs.

  A wave of dismay went through Kalussa. They were too late. Even if the massed trisalians proved effective in battle, which Kalussa doubted, they were too late. Her father’s army was about to collapse.

  But something strange happened.

  The jotunmiri at the edge of the battle stopped fighting and gaped at them.

  ###

  Calliande stared at the battle, her mouth tightening as she considered the situation.

  Was it too late? Perhaps she ought to advise Hektor to fall back to Castra Chaeldon. But could Hektor’s army even withdraw in good order? Justin’s hoplites were pushing Hektor’s men hard, and if the pagan jotunmiri broke through Vimroghast’s warriors, it would be an utter slaughter.

  Then Calliande noticed something strange.

  The jotunmiri at the edge of the battle, baptized and pagan both, had stopped fighting.

  They were staring at her.

  No, they weren’t staring at her. Rather, they were staring at the herd of eighty-seven trisalians that had gathered behind her. Calliande realized that they were staring because trisalians did not normally act this way. The big lizards would have avoided the battle, refusing to go anywhere near it.

  And certainly the trisalians should not have armored riders on their backs.

  And in a flash of insight, Calliande understood what she had to do.

  “Follow me!” she shouted to the Arcanii. “As fast as you can manage! Go!”

  She sent a command through the spell to her bound trisalians, urging them forward. The beasts’ rapid walk turned into a lumbering lope, and then they were moving fast, at least with the speed of a galloping horse. But a full-grown warhorse weighed about a thousand pounds. The trisalian beneath Calliande weighed at least ten or eleven times that much, and the amount of power required to move that much weight that quickly was immense.

  The trisalian beneath her opened its beaked mouth and loosed a furious, trumpeting cry. It was like the blast of a war horn, but far louder. The other trisalians answered in kind, and the thunder of their cries echoed over the plain, louder than even the battle.

  The Arcanius Knights guided their beasts after Calliande.

  ###

  Kalussa desperately wished for something to hold as her trisalian ran towards the jotunmiri, bellowing its angry cries.

  This was madness. Stark, utter madness. The pagan jotunmiri would kill them all. Already she saw Earl Vimroghast’s forces falling back in haste, trying to get out of the way of their pagan cousins. No doubt the pagan jotunmiri would turn and kill the trisalians…

  Kalussa blinked, unable to believe her eyes.

  The pagan jotunmiri were fleeing as well. In fact, they were fleeing in frantic disarray. It didn’t make any sense. Why were they running?

  Then the realization exploded through her mind.

  They were running because the jotunmiri didn’t see a few bewildered, terrified Arcanius Knights guiding enspelled trisalians. They were running because they saw ninety massive, enraged lizards stampeding towards them, each one equipped with horns that could kill a jotunmiri and trampling feet that could crush anything before them.

  Kalussa grasped the Staff of Blades, wondering if she could use the weapon and control her trisalians at the same time, but it proved unnecessary. The pagan jotunmiri withdrew to the north.

  And the way to the struggling masses of hoplites was open.

  ###

  “Keep following me!” said Calliande, turning her trisalians towards the battling hoplites.

  And as she did, cold, grim certainty filled her.

  Was this how Ridmark felt, she wondered, in the final moments before he struck down a foe? Was this how he felt when he had gained an insurmountable advantage, and knew that he would press it without mercy to take the victory?

  Because whether through her own cleverness, luck, or the mercy of God, Calliande Arban realized that she had just gained an insurmountable advantage over King Justin Cyros’s hoplites.

  Her trisalians stampeded towards the army, bellowing in fury as their legs pumped. A ripple went through Justin’s hoplites as more and more men turned to face the new threat. As the distance dwindled, Calliande saw bewilderment on their faces, followed by comprehension and then rapidly dawning terror.

  Some men began to run.

  She wasn’t the only one who realized what was about to happen.

  Her trisalian bellowed and plowed into the ranks of bronze-armored men.

  They barely slowed the creature at all.

  The trisalian lowered its head and thundered onward, and men died. Its horned head and bony shield shoved them aside as easily as if they had been made of grass instead of flesh and bone. Her trisalian stamped an aisle through the soldiers, and the hoplites around her began to panic and flee. Or they tried to flee but were packed so closely together that they could not run.

  It could have gone differently. Had the decurions thought to form a spear wall, they might have killed the trisalians or held them at bay. Or if they had fired volleys of arrows and javelins, they might have caused the trisalians to panic. Perhaps they could have killed the Arcanius Knights controlling the trisalians, which would have caused the animals to revert to their instincts and flee from the battle.

  But they didn’t.

  No one had ever done this before, and Justin’s men didn’t know how to fight a massed charge of trisalians and didn’t have time to improvise defensive tactics.

  Calliande sent a command to her trisalians, turning the animals to the right as they stampeded through Justin’s collapsing army.

  Chapter 22: Father & Son

  Justin Cyros attacked, and Ridmark braced himself.

  He tried to brace himself, anyway. The damned ground kept moving and heaving, and it was all he could do to keep his balance. Justin suffered from no such difficulty. The King of Cytheria drew nearer, and Ridmark raised Oathshield, getting ready to block any thrusts or swings.

 
; Instead, Justin changed his attack at the last moment, the blade of the Sword of Earth pulsing with green light. Another sphere of emerald light hurtled from the end of the weapon, and Ridmark snapped Oathshield up in guard. The globe struck the blade with enough force to knock Ridmark back, and he almost lost his balance. Harsh green fire snarled around Oathshield as the soulblade fought off the Sword of Earth’s potent magic, and Ridmark raked the tip of the soulblade against the ground. The green fire leaped off the sword and sank into the ground, and a portion of the earth solidified into gray stone.

  No doubt that was what would have happened to Ridmark if the green sphere had touched his flesh.

  Then Justin was on him, and Ridmark turned his attention to his defense. He parried Justin’s first blow, dodged around the second, and then dodged another thrust. The ground shuddered beneath him, and Ridmark almost fell. He barely got Oathshield up in time to block Justin’s next swing.

  Ridmark jumped back, and his boots rasped against the section of stone the Sword of Earth’s power had created.

  That, at least, was not moving like the rest of the ground. Ridmark braced himself there and blocked Justin’s next three attacks. He struck back, but Justin jumped out of reach, moving with ease across the shifting ground. If Ridmark pursued, he might lose his balance and Justin would kill him.

  Another lightning bolt hurtled past Ridmark. Justin snarled and swept the Sword of Earth before him, and Tamlin’s spell struck the Sword and unraveled. Third, Tamlin, and Calem were all hurrying towards Ridmark, and Tamlin was already casting another spell.

  For all the power of the Sword of Earth, Justin was still a man of flesh and blood. Ridmark did not think he could fight four opponents at once.

  Ridmark set himself, preparing to charge, and Justin moved.

  ###

  Justin glanced at the ground as his enemies closed around him.

  The Shield Knight lifted Oathshield, and behind him came Sir Calem, the dark-haired woman, and Tamlin Thunderbolt. If all four of them attacked Justin at once, one of them would land a lucky blow, and that would be that.

  So be it, then. His best plan would be to divide and conquer. His eyes flicked over his opponents. Of the four of them, the Shield Knight and the dark elf hybrid were likely the most dangerous. Both Sir Calem and Cathala’s whelp had been wounded and were exhausted.

  Justin would start with them.

  He took three quick steps to the side and called on the Sword of Earth’s power.

  The ground heaved, and a wall of earth erupted from the ground, twenty feet high and ten thick. It only stretched fifty feet in either direction, but it cut off Calem from his allies. The man in the white cloak glanced back in surprise, whirled, and sprinted towards Justin. He leaped from the ground, the power of the Sword of Air lifting him from the ground, the white cloak billowing around him.

  Justin waited for a heartbeat, and then called on his Sword’s power.

  A column of rough stone shot from the ground and clipped Calem in mid-leap. It struck Calem in the right leg, and Justin heard something snap. The bearer of the Sword of Air hit the ground hard and bounced a few times, and Justin charged. Calem staggered back to his feet, wincing as his right leg trembled, and Justin attacked. Calem was younger and stronger, but he had been wounded, and between his injured leg and the rippling ground, it was almost impossible for him to keep his balance.

  Nevertheless, he fought magnificently, and it took all of Justin’s skill and experience to keep the younger man at bay. At last Calem stumbled and left Justin a tiny opening, and he seized it. He slammed the pommel of the Sword of Earth into Calem’s temple with terrific force, and Calem’s head snapped back, blood flying from his face.

  He fell to the ground, unconscious, and Justin lifted the Sword of Earth for a killing blow.

  Another lightning bolt shot across the field and into his chest. The blast rocked Justin, and he stumbled with a curse. He looked up to see Tamlin perched atop the earth wall, already casting another spell.

  Justin sneered and sent his will into the Sword of Earth.

  The wall collapsed back into the ground, but Tamlin had already leaped from it.

  ###

  The magic of elemental air cradled Tamlin as he hit the ground and kept the landing from breaking his legs.

  Justin pointed the Sword of Earth, and the blade flashed as one of those spheres of green light shot from the end.

  Tamlin remembered the day his mother had died, the day that Justin had used that very power to turn her to stone.

  He threw himself to the side, rolling across the uneven ground, and the sphere struck the earth, turning a section of dirt a few yards across into solid stone. Tamlin leaped back to his feet and sprinted at his father, his dark elven sword ready in his right hand, lightning snarling around the fingers of his left hand. Justin kept his eyes on Tamlin, and the blade flared with green light yet again.

  Tamlin was too close. There was no way he could dodge another of those green spheres.

  Then he remembered that he didn’t need to.

  At least, he didn’t think he needed to. Tamlin was Swordborn, and his father had sired him while bearing the Sword of Earth. That meant Tamlin was immune to the powers of the Swords. At least, most of the powers of the Seven Swords. Justin could still cut off his head with the Sword of Earth, could make the ground unstable beneath Tamlin’s feet.

  But if Justin tried to use the Sword’s more direct powers…

  Tamlin made no effort to dodge as Justin hurled another glowing sphere at him.

  The globe struck him in the chest, and Tamlin felt the immense weight of the magic pressing at him, commanding his flesh to become stone.

  But he shrugged it off and kept running.

  Justin’s eyes went wide, and then comprehension flashed over his face. Tamlin thrust his free hand and hurled a lightning bolt at his father, but Justin raised his Sword, deflecting the spell the way that Tamlin had often see Ridmark do. Justin strode forward, the Sword of Earth raised in guard as the ground undulated and twisted beneath his boots.

  And Tamlin realized that he had a problem.

  The Seven Swords could cut through anything. The Sword of Earth would have no trouble with Tamlin’s armor and dark elven sword. Justin glided towards him, moving with the balance and grace of a master swordsman.

  He had wanted to avenge his mother, but he might join her in death.

  Lightning sparked around his free hand, and he flung a weak bolt at Justin, hoping to knock the King off guard. Justin parried the spell, and he sidestepped and swung at Tamlin. His initial instinct was to parry, but he realized that would destroy his sword and likely kill him. Instead, he jumped back, the ground heaving beneath his right boot, and he almost landed on his backside.

  The Sword of Earth blurred past maybe an inch in front of his face.

  “Foolish boy,” said Justin. “Do you think to avenge your mother?”

  “And all the others you have slain,” spat Tamlin.

  Justin scoffed. “You ought to thank me. You were too young to know what your mother was really like. She betrayed me, and she would have betrayed you in time.”

  “You sold me to your dvargir mercenaries,” said Tamlin.

  Justin scoffed again. “That was her doing, boy. If she had told me about you, I would have made you one of my Ironcoats, and you would have power and wealth and prestige and all the women you would ever want.” He shrugged. “On the other hand, I suppose the Shield Knight would then have killed you with all my other Ironcoats, so maybe…”

  He attacked in a blur, but Tamlin was ready for it. Attacking in the middle of a sentence was an old trick, and many of the gladiators in the Ring of Blood had used it. He dodged, avoiding the tip of the Sword of Earth, and struck back, stabbing forward in a lunge. Justin retreated, but not quite fast enough, and the dark elven steel bit through the bronze armor on his left forearm and sliced across the flesh.

  Justin snarled, and Tamlin expected him to
reel back.

  But the King of Cytheria surged towards him, the Sword of Earth blurring, and Tamlin retreated. Again and again, his instincts screamed for him to parry, but he didn’t dare. Tamlin fell back, trying to keep his balance on the writhing ground, trying to stay ahead of his father’s vigorous attacks.

  Then he stumbled, and the Sword of Earth descended towards his skull.

  Tamlin raised his sword with all his strength, hoping to knock the Sword of Earth aside from splitting him in half.

  He almost succeeded.

  His swing intersected with the Sword, and the green blade sheared through Tamlin’s sword of dark elven steel. The sword he had taken from Urd Maelwyn shattered, the blue fragments of the blade raining around him. But he had struck Justin’s Sword with enough force to alter the path of the weapon.

  The pommel struck his helmet with enough force to dent the bronze rather than the blade cutting his skull in half.

  The impact knocked Tamlin over, and he lost his balance.

  The back of his head hit the ground.

  Stars exploded in front of his eyes, and he knew nothing more.

  ###

  Justin grimaced and shook his wounded arm. The Sword of Earth would heal it in time, but it was still annoying. Damn Cathala for this! A dozen years after her death and she still stood in his path. Or, at least, her son did. Damn her for hiding so many secrets from him! Sir Tamlin was the least of them. If she had just told him the truth, if she had told him about the seven infants and the one she had taken from Cathair Animus, he might have reunified Owyllain and defeated the New God years ago…

  Justin lifted the Sword of Earth, rebuking himself. He could brood over the past once the battle was won. He would kill Tamlin, deal with the Shield Knight and the hybrid, and then bring the power of the Sword of Earth to bear against Hektor’s troops.