The Undying Champions (The Eternal War Book 1)

by Brennan C. Adams

  “And do what?” Aramar asked with a roll of the eyes. “Keep running? We should attempt the ocean crossing again.”

  The men continued bickering, and Raimie strove to determine how he could regain control of the conversation and if that was even possible. Kheled bumped his shoulder playfully, having come to stand beside his friend.

  ‘Go on,’ he mouthed.

  Raimie stood up straighter.

  “I wasn’t finished,” he said sternly, but no one paid him any mind.

  He crossed his arms and cocked his head, finger tapping against his bicep. He wasn’t sure what else to do.

  “Louder, sir,” Oswin murmured helpfully, “like their opinions don’t matter.”

  Raimie took a deep breath.

  “I’M NOT FINISHED!” he bellowed at the same time that a throwing knife impaled the table.

  Heads swiveled in his direction. He swallowed nervously at the sudden attention. Kheled casually retrieved his knife from the table and returned to his crate, distracting Raimie long enough for the terror to recede.

  “We’re not making another ocean crossing, and we’re not running,” Raimie informed them. “We stand and fight. As I was saying, if we position-”

  “You can’t be serious,” Gistrick interrupted. “We’ll face nearly two to one odds. It would be foolish to go up against that if there’s another option.”

  “Do we have another option?” Marcuset asked.

  “Run. Live to fight another day.”

  Raimie slammed his palms against the tabletop.

  “I would appreciate it,” he said quietly, “if I could finish a single thought without interruption.”

  He raised stern eyes to Gistrick and Marcuset.

  “For having sworn fealty to me, you two are showing very little respect. I’m used to that from my family, but I expected better from such competent military commanders. The chain of command should be well established for you, after all.”

  “You’re pulling rank now?” Gistrick laughed. “After all this time?”

  “No. The lack of insignia on my collar should make it obvious that I have no rank. I am your king. I’m above rank.”

  Red-faced, the Eselan’s mouth slammed closed.

  “Can I expect any further interruptions while I explain my plan? No? In that case, I fully expect comments once I’ve finished.”

  He launched in without waiting for replies, afraid to relinquish center stage to anyone else once he’d captured it.

  “I have a mediator working with the native Audish citizens to grant us a place to bunker down until the enemy loses interest in us, but in the likely scenario that she fails, I’ve come up with a strategy for the battle that’s sure to follow.

  “We’re situated here on the beach, surrounded on one side by dense forest and bordered on the other by cliffs. We have a nice rising valley that stretches for a couple miles before it levels off.

  “Kheled assures me that the Kiraak that compose the enemy army will avoid the forest as much as they can since resistance fighters have asserted their dominance there. They’re likely to approach directly from the east through the deforested land between the edge of the jungle and the cliffs. I’ve already sent a small scouting team to confirm.

  “I propose we send a small unit of our best archers to the cliffs above, there to hide until the enemy passes. After which, they rain hell on the enemy army while the Kiraak approach the beach. Hopefully, the archers can also draw off a significant number of enemy combatants before they’re forced to retreat.

  “Meanwhile, we leave a token force on the beach to lure the enemy. It will need to be a large enough force to allay suspicions, say two thousand or so. It would also prove helpful if some Esela joined these volunteers as well. If they can cast the illusion that there are more people on the beach than those present, the enemy will more likely buy the lie that our token force composes the totality of our people. When the enemy charges, the volunteers will break rank and retreat along the coastline. We then use the cannons onboard the ships to decimate the Kiraak ranks.

  “The rest of us will wait in the forest until the Kiraak are completely drawn in. After which, we flank them. We press them between our blades and our cannons, and we may have a chance at victory.

  “Any questions or comments? I’d like to hear your thoughts.”

  The older men regarded him silently.

  “It… could work,” Marcuset broke the silence first. “It would require several modifications, namely the use of the ships’ cannons. I’m unsure we can get the ships close enough to the shore for the cannons to be in range, but I’ve some ideas to solve that problem. What matters is that we have a battle plan that I can work with. What say the rest of you gentlemen?”

  “Aye!”

  “It’s a better choice than running.”

  Eledis simply nodded.

  “What about you, Oswin?” Raimie asked the spy. “Any thoughts?”

  The spy seemed genuinely confused by Raimie’s interest.

  “It’s not my place to express an opinion on the matter, sir, but I would like to know what this Kiraak we’ll be facing is.”

  “I completely forgot…” Raimie shook his head at the slip. “Khel, do you mind?”

  He stepped aside, but the healer didn’t immediately take his place. He stayed on the crate, flipping the knife through his fingers.

  “Doldimar is the embodiment of evil incarnate,” he said absently, eyes fixed on the spinning knife, “and the Kiraak are his children. The Dark Lord harvests towns and villages, ripping lovers apart and tearing parents from children, and… well, suffice it to say that’s where Kiraak come from. They’re once normal humans and Esela that have been,” the spinning knife paused as he looked skyward thoughtfully, “corrupted.”

  He sheathed the knife and approached the table.

  “The only fact you’ll need is that they’re near invincible. If you pierce one’s heart or stab it in the eye, it’ll just keep coming. To kill one you need to cut off its head or hack it into pieces, but that second option usually proves impossible in combat.”

  “Then what’s the point of the archers or the cannons?” Gistrick asked, horrified.

  “The archers will aim for the eyes,” Raimie replied soothingly. No need to scare off the men when he’d just persuaded them to fight. “A blind Kiraak isn’t going to do much good before it’s eliminated. As for the cannons, I’m pretty well sure that a shot from one of those can dismember someone, but if not, the same concept applies. Cripple them as much as possible before we have to face them in combat.”

  “I’m suddenly not as confident as I was,” Marcuset said reluctantly, “but your plan’s still better than our alternatives. I’ve multiple concerns I’d like to address now, and I’m sure the others do as well.”

  “I’ll hear them all.”

  “Have you considered how difficult retreat will be across a sandy beach…?”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  You are the only one I’ve ever known to possess the strength to do what’s right. Ever your friend-

  -Arivor

  She was beautiful in her wedding gown. The forest around us whispered its approval as we Joined for the first time. Two people, one mind, one person, pure bliss.

  When the Join broke, he pulled to his singular existence reluctantly and smiled at her empty eyes. Horrified, he looked down. The sword impaled her, and the world exploded in blood and fire. Family drowned around him in a river of red, begging and crying, and he howled at his incompetence. WHY COULDN’T HE SAVE THEM?

  A little sister with black hair floated by, her eyes fixed on him.

  “Kheled!” she said in a strangely deep voice. “Kheled, sir! I need you to get up. Something-”

  He woke with a strangled cry, reaching helplessly for the dream before it had turned ugly.

  “-requires your attention. Are you all right? You were thrashing and mumbling something fierce.”

  Disoriented, he focused on the ma
n leaning over him.

  “Bad dream,” he muttered. “What can I help you with?”

  “An Eselan girl attempted to sneak past the sentries, but with that Kiraak army waiting at the top of the rise for daybreak, we’re on high alert. We apprehended her,” the soldier reported. “She said to bring her to you. Should we restrain her, sir?”

  “That would be my sister, so no, I’ll go to her. I’d rather deal with that army of Kiraak single-handedly than incur her wrath,” he chuckled. “Give me a moment. I’ll be right there.”

  He scrubbed his face, wiping away the dream and the memories it resurfaced, and crawled from his bedroll.

  The forest was silent, indifferent to the men sleeping hidden beneath its boughs. Soon, the sun would lighten the horizon, and the men would rise to consciousness, summoned by fellow soldiers and their superiors. They’d prepare, helping one another don armor and inspect weapons one last time, and then would come the worst part of the soldier’s life, the wait for the battle to commence.

  For now, Kheled was careful to leave them to their dreams as he picked his way around. At the picket line, he spied his sister anxiously waiting, jittering from foot to foot and drumming her fingers on her thighs. She spotted him and quickly crossed the distance to wrap her arms around his neck.

  “You look awful,” she said when she released him.

  “Are insults going to become a habit when we meet?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “As long as you keep those enormous circles under your eyes, they will. What have you been losing sleep over this time?”

  “I’ve been eliminating Kiraak scouts that get too close. Leading mass lessons on how to kill them most efficiently. That sort of thing,” he shrugged. “The busyness is nice. Gives me an excuse to avoid the nightmares.”

  “Even you need to sleep at some point.”

  “I was!” Kheled protested. “But then you came and ruined it. So, what is it? Do you have news from Tiro?”

  “It’s not good…”

  He held up a hand.

  “You can tell Raimie and me together. It’ll save you time.”

  He led her to the remote spot where his friend had chosen to sleep that night, except that’s not what Raimie was doing. Surrounded by loose leaf paper, he lit the page he held in one hand with Ele in the other. His lips moved as he read, and his bloodshot eyes scanned the page. He lowered the sheet to pick up another, revealing the unbuttoned and unpinned vest of his uniform.

  “You promised me you’d try to sleep,” Kheled said accusingly.

  “I did try,” Raimie mumbled through the page. “It didn’t take. Too many final details to work out.”

  Kheled gently lifted the paper from his friend’s fingers.

  “You have a guest.”

  “Really? Who?” Raimie’s eyes twitched from side to side, searching. “Ren!”

  He scrambled to his feet, papers spilling from his lap, and bowed to her.

  “What’re you doing here? Do you require my assistance with something?”

  “Ah, no. Thank you. I don’t need help,” Ren said, surprised. “I went back to Tiro to talk to my father, remember?”

  “I recall. What did he decide?” Raimie leaned forward hopefully.

  “I believe his exact words were ‘You can tell them all to go to hell.’”

  Raimie shrank, disappointed, so Kheled bristled with anger in his place.

  “That arrogant, selfish, judgmental, small minded ASS HOLE!”

  “No, my friend, I’m certain Riadur simply fears drawing an army down on his city. I can understand why he’s made this decision,” Raimie bowed once more to Ren. “Thank you for coming personally to deliver the message.”

  He settled to the forest floor, allowing the papers to engulf him once more. Once he was comfortable, he peered at Ren curiously.

  “Is there something else you want to say?”

  “I wish to fight with you,” Ren answered with a blush.

  “What?!” Kheled shouted. “Absolutely not!”

  “You get to decide where and when to lend your sword, and I don’t?” Ren shot back.

  “In this case, yes, because it would be suic-”

  “You’re most welcome to join us,” Raimie mumbled, buried once more behind a page.

  Kheled grew very still.

  “I know you didn’t just tell my sister that she could kill herself, Raimie,” he said coldly.

  “I didn’t.”

  His friend arranged the page he held beside two more laying on the dirt, and holding all three down with one hand, he leaned over to inspect the map he’d built.

  “Ren hopes to force her father into helping us by lending her assistance. She’s a more than capable fighter, but she has no real stake in our cause besides you and doesn’t want to die. She’ll leave once it becomes clear that the tide has turned against us.”

  Ren flushed a deep red. As if realizing something for the first time, Raimie’s head sprang up.

  “Or am I wrong? Because if you’re here to die with us, go home. I won’t be responsible for depriving the world of your presence.”

  Kheled had never seen his sister such a cherry red before, and he bit his lip to hold back the laughter.

  “You’re right,” she acknowledged. “I want to help you in every way I can besides throwing my life away.”

  “Then welcome. Khel will explain the plan for tomorrow.”

  Ren took that to mean dismissal, which it was, and she headed toward the main clump of sleeping soldiers.

  “I’ll catch up,” Kheled told her when she looked back curiously.

  He knelt in front of his friend, and Raimie reluctantly set aside his work.

  “You know you can’t think of everything?”

  “I do.”

  “Are you planning on sleeping at all?”

  He hesitated, but he shook his head.

  Kheled rolled his eyes, placed a finger on his friend’s forehead, and Let Go just a little bit. Raimie drew back and smacked the hand away.

  “What was that?” he demanded, rubbing his head. “The exhaustion’s vanished.”

  The healer smirked at the flummoxed look on his friend’s face and made his decision.

  “Not right now,” he patted Raimie’s knee, “but I promise I’ll explain every mystery and reveal every secret after we survive the battle. Your piqued curiosity should give you the extra push you’ll need to struggle through.”

  “What if we don’t survive?”

  “We will.”

  * * *

  Kheled was much less confident about their chances when he observed the advancing enemy lines from the forest’s edge.

  Raimie crashed through the trees to drop to his belly beside him. Oswin, his friend’s new shadow, crouched nearby, giving them privacy but stubbornly keeping eyes on his charge. Behind him and to either side, thirty-two hundred men and women armed to the teeth waited for the signal from their leader.

  The healer winced at the noise and reminded himself that Raimie was trying to move silently. They all were. He glanced over at his friend.

  “No armor?” he asked lightly.

  “What? You don’t like the uniform?” Raimie whispered teasingly before turning serious. “If I want to stay alive today, I’ll need to use everything at my disposal including magic. It seems silly to hide it if I’m going to die, and I’m betting that the extra maneuverability of Ele will give me a greater edge than whatever small measure of protection my leather armor might provide.”

  “Smart.”

  “Thank you. I stole the idea from this other primeancer I know,” he waved at Kheled’s own lack of armor. “How’s it looking? Are they going to fall for it?”

  “It certainly looks that way.”

  The lines of enemy soldiers marched on the tent city on the beach. A token force of volunteers would soon emerge from those tents. Their orders were to behave as though in a panic and to form up into a disorganized line. How much of it would be acting a
nd how much true anxiety was anyone’s guess.

  The idea was to give the enemy the illusion that they’d been caught sleeping, hopefully persuading their commander to give the order for a full charge.

  Already, the unit of archers assigned to the cliffs opposite peppered the descending army with arrows. Even the least competent commander established a picket line, so this initial resistance wouldn’t be unexpected. A small group of enemy combatants had split off and was attempting to approach the archer’s entrenched position.

  Kheled ran his eyes over the main formation of the army. So many people and so much glinting metal, a veritable lake of marching death. From this far away, it was impossible to make out such tiny details with his own eyes, but he imagined he could see the writhing black lines snaking over every soldier’s skin. Their number appeared less than what he’d estimated from his original assessment at Da’kul, but perhaps not every soldier assigned to the fortress had come or mayhap some had been lost along the way.

  A figure at the top of the rise drew his attention. Perched atop a horse, the figure inspected the soon to be battlefield below. Frowning, Kheled shifted to eagle eyes to get a better look.

  The horse was what prompted misgivings. Animals fled the presence of Kiraak. Something about the abominations’ abnormality made birds, dear, rodents, and horses, among other examples, bolt. It was why Raimie had discarded the idea of using cavalry for his own people early on. The only time a horse could stand to be near Kiraak was when…

  He could just make out the rider, and when he recognized him, a pit of ice overtook his stomach.

  “Teron…” he muttered darkly.

  “What? He’s with them?” Raimie asked fiercely. “Where?”

  He made to get up, and Kheled absently pressed him into the ground. He scanned the advancing lines once more.

  An arrow took one of the foremost soldiers in the eye, and instead of marching on as a Kiraak would, he crumpled to the ground. Tightening his eyes further, Kheled could find not a single speck of Corruption on them.

  Mumbling a mild curse, he stood quietly and slung up into one of the nearby tree’s low branches. With the added height, he could barely see over the rise where Teron surveyed the beach. Behind the Enforcer, another sea of people waited, perfectly still. He glanced over to their allied archer unit and noticed several of the men and women frantically waving.