“Did you know the healer was a primeancer?” Gistrick practically shouted.
Raimie turned disdainful eyes on the Zrelnach commander.
“Lower your voice,” he said sternly.
“Your Majesty, if a primeancer has lured a third of our army into a trap, we may need to revise our strategy,” Marcuset said quietly.
“Kheled’s following orders.”
“WHAT?!” the strangled cry emanated from both men.
“I told him to lead those men in battle. They’re doing better than I’d hoped.”
“Why would you condemn all of those people-?’
Marcuset’s horror was shoved aside by Gistrick.
“We should send to rest of the army to assist. If we do it now, we may be able to salvage this.”
“We’ll do no such thing,” Raimie firmly told them. “We will not waste their sacrifice. We will wait.”
“Wait for what?”
A load roar washed over the beach, the cliffs, the forest. Raimie checked. Sure enough, Teron remained at the top of the rise, but around him, howling men and women cascaded like a waterfall down the hill. The Enforcer’s timing couldn’t be more perfect.
“That,” Raimie answered. “Oswin?”
He had to shout to be heard over the rumble of raised voices, the pounding of feet, and the clink of metal on metal. The spy tossed him a pistol, and he took a moment to inspect it, waiting for the Kiraak horde to stumble into position.
“In answer to your question, Gistrick, yes I knew. He’s my best friend.” Sorry Nyl. “I’ve known his secret since Paft.”
“But… why wouldn’t you immediately execute him or at least tell someone?” Gistrick asked, genuinely puzzled.
“You mean besides him being my friend? That’s simple really. I never shared Kheled’s secret identity as a primeancer because I’m one too.”
Laughing uproariously at their shocked expressions, he raised the pistol above his head and squeezed the trigger. The pop carried over the roar of the Kiraak, and the booming explosion of cannon fire answered it. Enormous cannonballs tore through the howling men and women like they were paper, and Raimie was satisfied to observe that a good number of those hit by the projectiles stayed down.
He grabbed hold of the branch and gracefully folded over and around it to the ground.
“Are you ready?” he asked Oswin, drawing Silverblade.
The answering OOS came from three thousand throats as men spilled from the forest to descend on the Kiraak.
“Can I trust you two to do your job?” Raimie asked Marcuset and Gistrick seriously.
They were hesitant with their nods, but he took them despite that.
“Good. Keep up as best you can,” he told Oswin playfully, pulling Ele to his legs and feet.
He joined his men gleefully in their race to destroy the enemy.
* * *
An arrow took Kheled in the knee, and he stumbled. Two answering arrows eliminated the men eagerly moving forward to take advantage of the opening.
The healer pulled the arrow from his flesh and brought his dagger up to catch the ax falling on his face. The ma- no, woman behind the weapon hadn’t thought to defend her legs, only seeing her opponent bending over and leaving himself open to attack. He brought his saber sweeping through her ankles, the resistance of bone to steel significantly less at the joint. She collapsed, screaming, and Kheled scrambled away on all fours.
A jet of Ele rifled his hair as it passed overhead to send a teenager soaring over her comrade’s heads. Kheled didn’t stop to thank his splinter. He’d fallen victim to the song.
The men and women throwing themselves at him one by one and in clumps danced to the beat of Destruction. Every intercepted slice was a chord, every ignored feint a tone in its dissonance.
Meanwhile, he clung to the melody of Preservation, both for himself and the men behind him. Adhering to its harmony, he sliced to disable, smacked to bruise and disorient, and whenever possible flung away bodily. To end one of his opponent’s lives would not fit with the song, and so, he didn’t.
Out of the corner of his eye, he witnessed one of the volunteers fighting to give him room fall without his head, and the melody hitched momentarily. Gritting his teeth, he forced it to resume.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before a loud boom disrupted Preservation’s beat, and disoriented, his stomach nearly met a sword. He batted the attack away and lopped off the attacker’s hand.
Kheled shot Ele though the soles of his feet as he jumped, and he rose high enough to confirm his suspicions. Thousands of allied soldiers spilled out of the forest to flank the rapidly nearing horde of Kiraak.
“Retreat!” he yelled in his unnaturally loud voice.
Hopefully, the volunteers would remember what he’d told them.
“Are you sure about this?” Creation asked. “It’s a huge expenditure.”
“These people are worth it.”
He took a running leap, pushing Ele as he did, and soared high above the wedge of enemy soldiers doing their best to eliminate his people. He descended into their midst, and when he landed, he ripped the block off the floodgates.
Ele greedily invaded the physical world with a bang, energy pulsing from Kheled like the ocean’s tide. Wave after wave pounded into the soldiers around him, flattening some and tossing others aside like deadwood. In a split second, a hole opened in the enemy’s formation, but his people couldn’t hope to traverse it until the Ele energy was back under control.
Kheled struggled to reseal his source. Each pulse battered against his efforts, shredding them apart. For a brief moment, he worried that he’d never close it off, and Ele would come through until nothing was left of it.
Far away, he spied someone struggling against the beat of energy, her black hair flying behind her. Every step she took forward came with two steps backward, such that she made little progress, but still, she tried to reach him.
He slammed the seal down. Around him, enemy combatants groaned and feebly failed to get up, and before him, Ren rapidly closed the distance between them.
“That was stupid, Ren! Alouin, what if I’d accidentally flung you hard enough to hurt you?” he thundered.
“Khel,” she said with great restraint, “your voice.
What was she-? The shape change.
While he shifted his vocal chords back to their natural state, the men he’d defended ran past, sprinting for freedom. He was happy to observe them following orders to continue along the coastline to the rendezvous point, but he was ecstatic when a few peeled off to join the battle taking place near the woods.
“I should find Raimie.”
He stumbled as the energy drain from the shape change hit. Ren caught his arm and supported his weight for the moment it took him to regain control of his legs.
“You’ll do no such thing,” she scolded. “Look at that battle! Your friends are doing well. Your training has paid off, and those fancy cannons have thinned the Kiraak ranks considerably. Raimie can handle this alone.”
“Even still, I’m going. I’m not as tired as I look. Do me a favor, though. Retreat with these men. You’ve accomplished your purpose. If Riadur was going to send help, he would have by now. Time for you to return home.”
“No!” she exclaimed stubbornly. “I’m not leaving you to face thousands of Kiraak with an army that’s barely holding its own!”
“What happened to that confidence in my friend’s capabilities that you were spouting mere seconds ago?” Kheled asked teasingly.
“I was lying! Sure, the cannons and the flanking maneuver helped, but it’s a barely trained army outnumbered by nigh invincible Kiraak! Who do you think wins that fight? I can’t leave you to that!”
“Ren, Ren, calm down,” Kheled said, stroking her hair. “It’s the same as fifteen years ago, yes? I was strong enough to leave you to certain death when you asked me to. Now I need you to be strong for me.”
Tears streamed down his sister�
��s face, and her breathing hiccupped.
“Is there anything I can say to change your mind?” she sobbed.
“Very unlikely,” he glanced at the battle. “I have to go.”
“Fine,” she sniffled. “If you die helping him, I’ll never forgive you, brother.”
“I’ll do my best not to let that happen.”
She sniffed and took off after the disappearing line of soldiers.
His sister was taken care of. Now for his friend.
* * *
Raimie quickly discovered that Daevetch was extremely useful for beheading Kiraak. Even with its added help, his arms were so very tired from dragging steel through muscle and bone. He fought on despite his trembling limbs because to do otherwise meant death.
Beside him, Oswin blocked an attack meant for Raimie’s head and promptly shot the Kiraak in the face. It reeled backward, clawing at the new hole in its head, and Oswin stepped behind the safety of his comrade’s sword arms to reload.
Raimie had lost count of how many times the spy had saved his life. He vowed that if they made it through this, he would never complain about his bodyguard trailing him again.
He blasted his next opponent back into its comrade with Ele and swung Silverblade through both of their necks. Rotating out with the soldier behind him, he crouched beside Oswin.
“How’s it looking?”
“Well, sir, I’m almost out of shot, and the last exchange left me with a dented cuirass, but besides that, everything’s peachy.”
Raimie rolled his eyes.
“You know what I meant.”
“Last I heard from my resources, the volunteers broke through the army that surrounded them through some primeancer miracle, and most of them retreated as ordered. We’re holding our own against the Kiraak for now, but who’s to say how long that will last.”
“That’s fantastic news! I’m relieved Kheled was able to get them out safely.”
He pointedly ignored the disparaging comment about their chances. No need to acknowledge what his people already knew.
“Is there anything else?”
“There’s a teenager waiting in the tree line to speak with you.”
“That’s the last thing you tell me?” Raimie asked with a huff.
He should have time to get there, meet with the kid, and come back before he needed to return to the fight. Maybe.
“I’ll go quickly. You stay here, Oswin. I can handle a single teenager.”
The spy reluctantly allowed Raimie to leave his protection.
Under the safety of the trees, he found the kid waiting at parade rest, watching the battle progress with a keen eye.
“Hadrion!” Raimie said with a smile. “I’m enthused to see you, but you should probably be far away from here. I can’t guarantee when or where the Kiraak might break through.”
“Where’s my sister?” the teenager asked abruptly.
“She was supposed to fight near the beach, but she probably joined Kheled when he broke through and led the retreat,” Raimie answered. “If you’re upset that she’s here, please know that I didn’t ask her to fight. She volunteered.”
“I don’t doubt it, and I’m sure she’s fine. I only wanted to know if she was with you.”
He fell silent, and Raimie awkwardly waited for him to continue.
“Was there something else?” he eventually asked.
“Yes! I’m sorry! I’m simply amazed that your people are still alive. They fight with desperation, but I see beauty in it,” Hadrion murmured.
The teenager faced Raimie, and suddenly, he didn’t want to hear what Hadrion was about to say.
“I’ve come to tell you that Dury has changed his mind. If your men can make it to Tiro, we shall assist in every way possible to drive the Kiraak away.”
“That’s wonderful news! It will take some time for us to pull away from the battle, but-”
“There’s a stipulation,” Hadrion told him sadly. “He insists that you and your family aren’t welcome. He asked me to tell you that if he sees you outside Tiro’s walls, he’ll shoot you himself.”
Raimie took a minute to process the sudden change of fortune. His emotions had gone topsy-turvy. Elation in one second at the news that there was escape from death for his people to a quiet resignation.
“Tell Riadur I said thank you,” the words passed his lips with ease and without sarcasm. “I’ll ensure my men can safely escape battle before I head to the rendezvous point alone. Please let Tiro’s defenders know to expect my people.”
“I’m so sorry,” Hadrion murmured before he ran off.
His turn on the front line fast approached, but he took the time to instruct messengers to relay the order to retreat. It would take some time before the order could spread throughout the army. While he waited for that moment, Raimie would fight.
Waiting behind the man he’d replace, he drew Daevetch to his arms and shoulders, focused on pushing away the feeling of invincibility the energy produced.
“Shall we go again?”
“Sir, you’re aware your place isn’t on the battlefield, correct?” Oswin asked, rubbing his head unconsciously. “You should be well behind the lines directing troop movement.”
“That’s what Gistrick and Marcuset are for, and if an emergency comes up, I have you and your mysterious resources to tell me about it. You’ve been assigned a difficult task, Oswin: keeping safe a man who will constantly throw himself into danger to protect those he cares about. Many apologies in advance for the headaches I’ll cause you and the one I’m about to cause. Speaking of which, is anyone else developing a migraine?”
He raised his voice to be heard over the dissonance of battle, and those not actively engaged in a fight for their lives called back affirmative responses.
“Damn.”
Well, at least he’d be expending his life purposefully. He addressed Oswin once more.
“In a minute, I’m going to do something incredibly stupid, and instead of doing what you’re naturally inclined to do, I need you to stay with the men. You’re the only other person here who knows the way to Tiro. Lead them in an organized retreat to the city when the order comes in.”
“What will you be doing, sir?”
Raimie heard the fear creeping into the spy’s voice.
“Like I said, something stupid. Do. Not. Follow me.”
“Your Majesty…” Oswin sputtered in protest.
Raimie ignored him and raced to the tree line. The rising terror bid him to keep going and disappear into the forest, but instead, he aimed for the closest tree. With Ele’s peace and harmony singing in his veins, he leaped from branch to branch until he was high enough to obtain a good view of the battlefield.
They were doing better than he’d expected. Of course, he’d expected a near instantaneous rout, so that wasn’t saying much.
The non-Kiraak portion of Teron’s army had pulled itself back into formation, and they marched to join their allies in their quest to eradicate Raimie’s people. Even their significant addition of numbers to the enemy’s side wouldn’t tip the scales irrevocably. That honor fell to the man riding down the hill at a leisurely pace.
Now that he knew where Teron was and approximately where he’d be, Raimie released his hold on the tree, unleashing tiny streams of Ele before hitting the ground to absorb the impact. He sprinted around the battle, dodging and avoiding Kiraak stragglers specifically posted to cull any who chose to flee.
The fear screamed in his head, berating him for leaving the safety of his allies’ presence to take a position completely surrounded by hostiles. Holding his breath, he watched, and sure enough, the Kiraak ceased pursuit when he deliberately stopped in the path of Teron’s trotting horse. He waited, arms loose by his side and feet firmly planted, for the Enforcer to take notice of him. The horse slowed to a stop.
“Hello there,” he raised a hand and jerked it once to the side. “I believe this is the third time we’ve met, and we’ve yet to introduce ourse
lves. My name is Raimie, and you are-?”
“How are you alive?”
The voice coming from the hood was dangerously calm and somehow enormously threatening. Raimie suppressed a shiver.
“I’ve given you my name,” he said sternly. “It’s very rude not to return the favor.”
“You attempt to distract me,” that calm voice stated. “You wish to see me fail to accomplish my goal.”
“Seems a bit familiar, doesn’t it?” Raimie inspected his fingernails with a smirk. “I’ve watched you fail enough times now that it’s become quite boring and frankly a little sad to behold.”
“I’ve no idea what you hope to accomplish with your taunts. Without your Ele splinter, there’s simply no way that you can defeat me. You couldn’t even keep me here long enough to save your friends.”
“I’m sure Dim and I could do all right without Bright if needed. It’s fortunate we don’t have to.”
“Stop speaking nonsense, you fool,” the voice slipped into irritation. “Amusing as this has been, you can’t stay my hand much longer.”
“Nor do I wish to. In fact, I hope you chase me a good long time, and I hope you keep your priorities straight while you do so. After all, what do you think your Dark Lord would appreciate more? The annihilation of my scraggly band of misfits or the head of the prophesied child come to unseat him from the throne?” Raimie paused contemplatively. “I’m not really a child though, am I? Makes you wonder about that prophecy’s accuracy.”
“I plan on gifting my lord both, you cretin.”
Teron spurred his horse into a gallop. The Enforcer most likely hoped to ride him down to avoid dirtying his sword. Raimie dashed those hopes by stepping quickly to the side. The horse’s hoofs passed close enough to flatten the very tips of his boots. When Teron wheeled around, Raimie laughingly flipped him a sarcastic salute and raced up the hill in the opposite direction of the woods that hid Tiro.
* * *
The Undying Champions (The Eternal War Book 1) Page 68