Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter 1-The O’Baarni
Chapter 2-Kaiyer
Chapter 3-Nadea
Chapter 4-The O’Baarni
Chapter 5-Kaiyer
Chapter 6-Nadea
Chapter 7-The O’Baarni
Chapter 8-Kaiyer
Chapter 9-Nadea
Chapter 10-The O’Baarni
Chapter 11-Kaiyer
Chapter 12-Nadea
Chapter 13-The O’Baarni
Chapter 14-Kaiyer
Chapter 15-Nadea
Chapter 16-The O’Baarni
Chapter 17-Kaiyer
Chapter 18-Nadea
Chapter 19-The O'Baarni
Chapter 20-Kaiyer
Chapter 21-Nadea
Chapter 22-The O’Baarni
Chapter 23-Kaiyer
Chapter 24-Nadea
Chapter 25-The O’Baarni
Chapter 26-Kaiyer
Chapter 27-Nadea
End Notes
Excerpt from Book 3
by Michael-Scott Earle
Chapter 1-The O’Baarni
Word must have spread through the troops by now. It had been almost fifteen years since I led a charge. It was not that I feared battle, I relished every possible chance to crush Elven forces. It was more that my generals insisted that I stay in the back, out of danger, and able to coordinate their movements.
There was little choice today. I needed to lead them or we would lose the whole war and the small scraps of freedom we had carved for our race. I’d made a horrible mistake with our positioning and we were pinched between the Elven forces and the ocean. I should have predicted that they would flood the wetlands to the north to block our escape. It was definitely something I would have done had I been in their same position. I had gotten so used to winning that I started to underestimate my Elven opponents. Entas would have been upset with me if he had still been alive.
We won our last series of major battles against the Elven horde by harassing their food chain. This was a new force of Elvens with a different commander who I would not disrespect again. This new general reacted to my tactics quickly and actually surprised us with a few feints and victories.
I finished my pre-battle meditation in my tent before I checked my armor and weapons again. The armor fit like a second skin and I could no longer tell that it weighed almost seventy-five pounds. The skulls that protruded from my pauldrons continued to scream in unbridled rage along with the various smaller effigies etched across the blackened metal. When I attached the helm to my body, I no longer looked like a man, I looked like a smoldering, skinless demon that had just escaped from the fiery nightmares of hell. It was an absolute contrast to my enemies, who dressed in armor of beautifully leaved gold and silver. Their armor was engraved with trees, birds, celestial shapes, and flowers to enhance their already beautiful forms.
I’d rather be the walking incarnation of death than one of flowers. My purpose was destruction and not life.
My purpose was victory.
My purpose was revenge.
My shield and war mace were fashioned after my armor, by the same talented smith who forged all of my generals’ armaments. The arms were stout, impossibly heavy, and covered in screaming, agonizing, horrible visions of death. My hands wrapped around their comfortable leather grips and the small pangs of regret, remorse, and worry faded from my mind. The situation looked grim, but I would triumph. I was always victorious.
My massive black warhorse stood outside my tent in its dark skull plate armor. The horse was a magnificent beast, bred from carefully selected stock, and it was the eighth of its lineage that I had ridden. Its midnight coat shone in the morning sunlight and the light displayed its network of large muscles and veins. The beast snorted angrily when it noticed me. It was eager to kill, and the noise the animal made indicated that I had taken too long in my tent getting ready.
One of my men attached the long red cloak to my armor as I approached the horse. Another one held a twelve-foot skull encrusted lance. I could tell that he had been changed since he was able to hand it up to me easily once I mounted my horse. The two humans who assisted me checked my saddle and the hooks that held my mace and shield. My horse paced in annoyance. I sensed the animal's desire to run, smash, and trample.
“Looks good Kaiyer,” the one who handed me my lance said. I recalled that his name was Rogiur.
I spun the warhorse around and trotted to the front of the camp, to where Gorbanni’s men posted. They were my mounted cavalry and would lead the vanguard strike against the bulk of the massive Elven force. A few of Malek’s men would be riding with us to help keep magical attacks out of our path. We were positioned in the bowl of the valley against the flooded wetlands and the ocean. We would have to charge uphill to meet the enemy. It was a horrible position and I cursed my hubris again for putting the army in this predicament.
Gorbanni met me on the field in front of his gathered cavalry. His armor was polished to a gleaming shine and it almost seemed like the metal ram horns on top of his helm were glowing in the morning light. Two of his commanders sat on their horses next to him and the three saluted as I approached.
“Are you ready?” The monstrous helmet made my voice drop three octaves in pitch and grow darker in timbre.
“We are. As soon as the flags from the other generals go up, we will charge.” I had known him long enough to know that he was nervous.
“Good. I am eager to ride with your men and trample hundreds of Elven bodies under the hooves of my steed,” I said flatly. Gorbanni’s commanders were seasoned men, but I could see their eyes grow wide at my obvious confidence.
“Kaiyer,” Gorbanni said hesitantly in a way that made me think he would say things I might disagree with. “This looks very grim. I would be telling a falsehood if I said that my men held the highest of spirits. It helps tremendously that you are riding with us, but would you be willing to speak to them?”
“Of course! You know I would do this my friend.” I laughed under my helmet but it must have sounded hollow. Even so, the blonde general and his two commanders looked relieved.
The three of us pushed the horses farther down his line. To my left I could see up the slope away from the ocean, where the gathered Elven army was stationed. The rising sun reflected off their armor and made it appear as if it rose from two different places. It was hard to get a count of their exact number from our position, but their line stretched on for what seemed like a mile in each direction. After a quarter of a minute of riding, I reached the middle of Gorbanni’s unit. Their horses were impressively armored with plates, ram horns, and decorated lances of thick gray steel. Most of them wore their helms down so I was unable to see the expressions of their faces. As I rode by with my long red skull cloak and death lance in the air, they sat up in their saddles with a salute.
I spun my steed around when I reached the center and regarded them from my position at the head of the unit. I controlled the Air passing through my lungs and used its power to throw my voice across their lines and to the remainder of the forty thousand warriors. Malek and Shlara’s troops were positioned behind Gorbanni’s cavalry, too far away to hear my normal voice.
“The O’Baarni,” I started with the simple phrase to get everyone's attention. Gorbanni’s troops were already focused on me, but silence descended on the rest of the masses that prepared for the upcoming battle.
“Upon the dead bodies of our fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, and loved ones, we have given birth to this army.” I paused briefly and my horse strafed sideways, twisting his head and snorting. It didn’t understand why I wasn’t killing Elvens yet.
“We have fed this army on
the blood, flesh, and screams of our enemies. This diet has helped us grow strong and savage. In our past lives we were slaves and we lived in fear of all the possible ways they could punish us. Now we are free men, free women, and we dream of what abuse we can inflict on them. What retribution we can inflict on them. What horrors we can inflict on them.” My horse skittered the other way and tried to run up the slope but I yanked on its reigns and dug my spurs into its flanks hard enough to draw blood. It snorted again in anger but I doubted it actually felt the spurs. It was an effigy of my anger and hate. During this day the animal would understand me better than anyone else on the battlefield might.
“Some of you think this is our darkest day. Some of you are afraid. Some of you wonder how we will live through this.” The horse quieted suddenly and shook its mane in frustration.
“But none of you regret joining the O’Baarni. None of you would rather be back as slaves. None of you would trade your freedom for death on their terms.” I looked over to Gorbanni and he nodded in approval.
“So do not be afraid that this is our darkest day. We are all going to die eventually. But we will not die this morning. I am leading our first charge against our enslavers. I will be the first one they see and the first one to hit their ranks like a thunderbolt through a tree. Do not fear this day. I know we will live through this battle, we will flourish through this existence, and we will be born again when night falls, stronger than we have ever been.”
I paused again and moved my horse slightly toward Gorbanni’s standard bearer.
“I only have one fear today. I fear that, like my stomach on a feasting day, I will not be able to consume all the blood, all the flesh, and all the screams that this large bounty presents for me. I will need help devouring them.” I sucked in my breath and channeled the Wind through me. I would be so loud now that the Elvens would hear my voice echo in their skulls.
“Will you help me feast O'Baarni?” I screamed.
They screamed back a thousand times louder. Malek always teased that I didn't appreciate any art. Yet this was the finest music I had ever heard.
I raised my arm and my banners tilted to the sky on all four corners of the army, bearing a black skull framed in blood red. I lowered my arm toward Gorbanni’s bearer. He didn’t waste a second before he raised his up in the air. Within a few more seconds Shlara’s dragon and Malek's wolf standards lifted up against the sky. Thayer and Alexia's armies were a two week ride away, where I had incorrectly guessed the Elvens would be ripe for harassment.
I spun my horse around to face the Elven legion. My horse stamped his foot and tossed his head again. If he could have thrown me off the saddle and charged up there himself, he would have. Gorbanni rode to my side with his visor raised.
“Thank you Kaiyer.”
“Thank me when our armor is soaked with their blood my friend,” I said as I raised my lance up in the air. He nodded and lowered his helmet, then he made a signal with his hands and his guard closed in around us. My horns sounded from the standard bearers and across the bowl of land where the army lay. They were a triumphant call to the heavens and to the hells.
My warhorse sprung forward faster than any steed on the battlefield and chewed up the soft grass as it raced up the hill toward the wall of golden and silver armor. I didn’t bother to look for Gorbanni or his men; they were probably at least ten or twenty feet behind me. I hoped they would catch up before I hit their front lines so they wouldn’t feel useless.
A shower of arrows, Fire, and Wind launched into the air from the Elven army as I approached. I judged by their angle that they would fly over my body, but I still raised my shield to block any that managed to drift lower. An arrow wouldn’t be a problem for my armor and shield, but one of their bolts of magic would probably knock me off my horse. Then I would be trampled by the charging steeds behind me. Fortunately, their aim was terrible, and none of the magic nor arrows fell anywhere near me.
The gap between my steed and their front line of pike men closed rapidly until I saw the terror in their eyes. The Elven cavalry posted to the south of us and had expected us to meet them there. We charged their thickest block of soldiers up the steepest slope. The wall of pike men set their spears into the ground and braced for my impact. Each pike was twenty feet long and would have ended my advance abruptly if I would have been foolish enough to continue my charge. I pulled the Earth through my horse, legs, stomach, and heart until my blood began to boil. Then I combined it with the Wind that rushed past me. The Fire grew in my body and I focused it outward toward the wall of Elven pike carriers.
It was very difficult for someone to channel Earth magic from horseback, and even my own generals did not know how much I could really harness. The massive boulder of orange energy slammed into the wall of pike men directly in front of me, dashing them to the ground like a basket of dropped eggs. Their spears went hundreds of different directions but none of them pointed a way that would injure me.
There was a horrendous crash, like the sound of thunder from a mountain top, as my steed dove into the group of Elvens and sunk into their line almost eight rows deep. The shock of my horse crashing into four or five bodies helped clear the dark fog that clouded my vision after I had harnessed the Elements. My left arm stayed true however, and my lance had impaled three of the Elven bastards on its point like sausages I would roast over a campfire.
We were outnumbered by three to one. I had done my part.
I let go of the stuck lance and yanked my mace off of the saddle. I drifted afloat on a sea of armored Elven bodies and the black warhorse was my raft. Fortunately, my assault left them unprepared and I slammed my mace down once, twice, and a third time, crushing the helmets and skulls of three more pike men who had somehow stayed standing. Then my enemies realized I was in their midst and counterattacked.
Two of the Elven soldiers to the right shoved their spears up toward me with snake-like quickness. I swung my shield from the front of the horse toward its hind quarters and managed to knock the first spear into the second and deflect them. On my left side a single soldier thrust at me half a second after his companions, but I effortlessly batted it aside with my brain-soaked weapon.
My horse was smart and knew what I needed to do almost before I did. He turned to the right and pushed his chest into the two pike men whose weapons I had deflected with my shield. This shoved them into their own lines farther and gave my steed enough room to launch a kick into the masses of Elvens crowding my other side. I felt the impact of his hooves slam into metal and leather armor with a satisfying crunch of skull and rib bone. There were so many screams of agony, fear, pain, and rage around us that it was impossible for me to separate the sounds of the soldiers my horse kicked. But I imagined that they had screamed very loud indeed
One of the Elven warriors grabbed my left leg in an attempt to drag me off the saddle. A quick hammer with my mace ended his aspirations and gave me room to lean back down and away from another volley of spear thrusts that collided with my shield on the right. My horse spun again, knocking more spears away and giving me space enough to smash in a few more Elven skulls with my weapon. I saw Gorbanni twenty feet from me; he was using a massive curved long sword that chopped into the Elven ranks like an axe. His commanders guarded his flanks and appeared to be cutting a path toward me.
An Elven jumped onto the back of my horse from my right, tying up my shield and threatening to push me over the other side. She screamed in triumph as she tipped me over to the rear of the horse. Then her cheer turned into a call of dismay when I slid my arm out of the leather straps of the shield and let her take it to the ground with her. My warhorse stomped back and to the left, crushing her beneath its steel shod hooves. It would be difficult to protect myself with no shield on my right hand, but I would have to make do. It was better to be on the higher ground and without a shield at the moment.
I swung my mace in a wide arc along my left side and connected with three Elven dogs trying to claw up through the
bodies that lay crushed on the ground. I only killed one of them, but the other two sustained bone breaking wounds that would keep them out of the battle for the next ten minutes. Another asshole shoved his pike at me from far to the right. I turned my shoulder just in time and the spear point slid across my pauldron and arm. I reached up with my free right hand and grabbed around the steel enforced shaft of the spear. Then I used my hips and legs to tell my mount to spin clockwise. It did so instantly and the Elven was forced to either dance back, leaving me his spear, or be trampled beneath my horse’s chest and hooves. He chose to live for a few more seconds and I obtained his pike.
I spun the spear over my head in my right hand so that the sharp end of the weapon faced toward the ground. Then I alternated pike jabs with downward sweeps with my mace for the next minute until Gorbanni and his men joined me. The four of us pushed deeper into their ranks, stopping short of the hail of arrows that Shlara’s archers were letting loose. We decided to let Malek take my place of command and organize the strategy of the army. I had no doubts he would do as good a job as I would have done.
It seemed like a week passed as the four of us cut, stabbed, slammed, and trampled through the endless Elven mob. Eventually they became more organized and four of the deadly warriors attacked me with a synchronized volley of magic and spears. My horse went down with the multi-pronged assault. The armor had protected it from most of the spears, but during the battle it had sustained more punishment than any animal without healing abilities could possibly survive. I heard a cheer of triumph spread through the Elven ranks as they witnessed my armored, red-cloaked form fall with the night-black steed.
I sprung from the saddle and landed easily on my feet, driving the now dull and bloody point of my stolen pike into the chest of a female soldier. The tip of it pierced her perfect breasts through her chain mail armor and shredded her heart into liquid. She wielded a two-handed sword that I ripped from her dead hands to replace the spear that had been in my right. The heavy blade was almost too long to use with one hand, but I used my shoulders, hips, and legs to power a whipping swing that carved two Elvens in twain as they approached.
The Destroyer Book 2 Page 1