Destruction of a God (A Stolen Soul Book 2)

by I. K. Bartlett

  Bray smiled and merely nodded slowly in response. He then crawled onto his stomach and began sliding down the slope, with Gwion slightly behind him. Scrambling down the mountain, using only their arms to propel them forward, they kept their eyes focused on the closest of the campfires.

  Within a few moments, the two warriors tumbled down the last few feet and came to rest in a thick clump of bushes, which, luckily, offered them perfect cover. Bray pushed a branch from in front of his face and peered through. He smiled as he realised that the enemy had made a mistake.

  The two cages, in which they had imprisoned the Ancient ones and Ciqala, were only a few yards away from him. Glancing at Gwion, he was about to tell him what he had seen, but his son had already peeked through the grass and was pointing at the lone Vampire guard. Gwion grinned and whispered, “It has the keys on its belt. Let’s free our friends.”

  Bray only had to think for a second, before replying, “Let’s do it.”

  Hearing this Gwion, lifted himself onto all fours and began crawling out of the grass with Bray slightly behind him. As the two warriors closed with the guard, they embraced their Mogya and let it rush through their bodies.

  Bray clambered to his feet and leapt at the Vampire, drawing his blade as he did so. As he did this, Gwion slashed at the sentry’s feet. The creature reacted faster than Bray would have expected. It skipped over Gwion’s striking blade, kicked him in the head and then parried Bray’s sword with its sharply pointed mace.

  With savage ferocity, the Vampire reversed its swing, pushed Bray’s sword away and sent a savage blow at his chest. Seeing the thick metal head of the creature’s weapon singing towards him, Bray spun nimbly out of its path. He finished his spin and flicked his blade through the Vampire’s chest. The pain of the blow was evident on the monster’s face, as it dropped its weapon. However, the creature did not make a sound; it stepped forward, pushing the sword further through its body, and grabbed Bray’s head between its clawed hands.

  Gwion, who had until then been stunned by the power in the Vampire’s kick, shook himself from his reverie and leapt on the creature’s back, before hammering as hard as he could on its head with the hilt of his sword.

  His blows had no effect on the un-dead warrior, but they distracted it enough so that Bray could wrestle himself free. As he pulled away from the creature’s grip, blood trickled from the horrific gashes on his cheeks. Cringing against the pain, Bray held onto his Mogya. Surprised by the strength of the Vampire, he steadied himself and hacked at the back of the creature’s neck, as it attacked Gwion. His blade bit deep, drawing pale blood from the wound it had caused.

  The Vampire howled in agony. As quick as a flash, it punched Gwion in the face, breaking his nose, and leant down to grab its mace. However, Bray was quicker; he leapt high and drove his sword through the monster’s neck, severing its head from its body. The creature immediately crumpled to the floor and burst into flames, nearly overbalancing Bray as it fell.

  Gwion wiped the back of his hand across his face, wincing in pain as he did so and then glanced at the blood, as he muttered, “If one of them is that hard to kill, then we are in more trouble than we thought.”

  Bray was about to answer, but a popping sound and a bright flash of light from the Vampire’s body drew his gaze. As he watched, the flames began growing into an oddly human shape. Too late, Bray saw bright eyes in the centre of the figure. Merihim’s spirit had tricked them, taking on the shape of a Vampire to draw them in.

  As Gwion and Bray turned to run, a terrible voice echoed around them. “I knew that you would come Bray, but to bring your only son, well what a bonus that is for me. I nearly had him once before and now you have delivered him to me.”

  As Merihim finished speaking, the bushes around the two cages suddenly erupted, as a host of silver-armoured warriors burst from them. Bray managed to keep a tenuous grip on his Mogya, but the shock at how easily Merihim had trapped them had weakened his resolve, severely. Lashing out indiscriminately, Bray tried to fight the oncoming warriors. He managed to kill two of the huge armoured soldiers, but as he watched four of them pull Gwion to the floor, the last of his strength fled.

  As Bray’s knees buckled, a huge captain with a red sash across his breastplate hit him in the temple with an oddly shaped war hammer, knocking him unconscious. He crashed to the floor, just as Gwion succumbed to the heavy blows raining on him, and blacked out. However, just before he fell into oblivion, he saw the two cages flickering out of existence, both having been no more than illusions to lure them in.

  Seeing the two warriors slump forward, Merihim growled, “Bind them and throw them in the cage with that mangy Wuzen.”

  As commanded, the Captain detailed two of his men to do as Merihim had said and then asked, “Why do you keep them alive my Lord.”

  The flaming figure grew taller and then its red eyes grew brighter as it snarled, “If I let them watch their friends die, their sorrow will intensify the power in their souls, so when I kill them, I’ll become unstoppable.”

  Hearing this, the Captain bowed his head and without further comment moved across to the ten men carrying Bray and Gwion. As the silver-armoured warriors carried the two Anlam warriors across to the two cages at the rear of their column, Merihim rose into the air and then disappeared, ready to reappear when its final victory was certain.

  Hours later, Bray opened his eyes and sat up. Rubbing the painful welt on his head, he groaned and glanced around. He noticed Gwion was still lying prone a few inches away from him and Ciqala was glaring angrily at him. Seeing the wide, blue-eyed Wuzen, everything came crashing back to him. He sighed and in a weak voice said, “I’m sorry Ciqala. I really should have had more sense.”

  The Wuzen’s furry ears were flicking angrily, as he stared flatly at Bray. He sank into a sitting position and shook his small, shaggy head before replying, “It is of no consequence Bray. Even I knew that you would be easy to ensnare. Through all the years, since I first met you I have come to realise that arrogance and curiosity are two of your biggest failings.”

  With this Bray adopted a hurt expression and argued, “Curiosity maybe, but arrogance, I don’t think so.”

  Ciqala’s face grew softer as he moved towards his friend. He reached out and patted Bray’s hand as he said, “It is only natural; you have never before encountered a creature that not only uses Mogya, but has the ability to plan the downfall of an entire planet.”

  Bray shrugged, conceding the point, but remaining silent, as he realised that Ciqala was right. He held his injured head in his hands and sighed loudly. At this point, Gwion groaned loudly and sat up slowly. He waved weakly at Ciqala and with as much humour as he could muster, asked, “Hi Ciqala, did you miss me?”

  The Wuzen chuckled softly and then opened his mouth to answer, but went quiet as a dark cover descended over the cage, before it began rocking. Bray peered out through the bars and managed to move the thick material covering the cage just enough to see that an Elebull was dragging them to the north - towards the Sentinels.

  They bumped and swayed for what seemed an age until a large helmeted figure wearing a long leather apron, covering chain mail, pulled on a series of chains that contoured the beast’s body. This twisted a screw on the side of the bit, in the creature’s mouth. The pain of this brought the Elebull to a juddering halt.

  The occupants of the cage, bounced around for a few seconds more and then lay still, waiting to see what would happen next. They lay still, not daring to speak for a few minutes, until finally the cover lifted from the cage. Unlike the dark sky, which they had seen before the material had covered them; the sun was high in the sky, forcing them to squint against its raging light.

  Before the silver-armoured guard could say anything, a bright flare shot into the air, glowing so brightly that it obscured the sun. Bray instantly leapt to his feet, ignoring his protesting body as he recognised Peg’s signal. He rushed across and grabbed the bars, but a powerful bolt of energy shot thro
ugh his body sending him crashing to the floor.

  Ciqala shook his head sorrowfully, as he watched Bray peer at the cage with confusion and pain etched on his face, before saying, “It is designed to stop anybody getting in or out without the correct word of command.”

  Ciqala’s words did not even register in Bray’s head, because just as the Wuzen finished speaking, the guard chuckled nastily and growled, “Your friends don’t stand a chance. We know that the Nunnupi are behind us and the Elves are waiting to attack from the mountain. This is what the great and mighty Merihim wanted. They will be crushed under his mighty fist.”

  The fact that he had not mentioned the Dragons was lost on Bray as sheer panic raced through him. He clambered to his feet and moved across to the bars once more, this time being very careful not to touch them. Peering out, he stared hopelessly, as Sam led a charge into the massed ranks of Vampires at the front of the column.

  As he watched the titanic battle, he pulled a small looking glass from his tunic pocket to aid him get a closer view. Looking through the telescope, he blanched; from the north, he could see thousands of silver-armoured cavalry charging towards the rear of the Sentinel column.

  Broken Pact

  The Sentinel bugler blasted a quick succession of notes on the strange, twisting, animal horn and then placed it away, as they rounded a left fork in the track. Contrary to the plan that Sam had brokered with the commanders of Merihim’s troops, the Vampires had attacked as soon as the Sentinels had ridden into view. The bugler reached for his sword, but was too slow. As he leant down an enemy arrow thudded into his chest, sending him flying from his saddle.

  As Sam watched the bugler crash to the floor, he parried a spear and flicked his blade towards its owner. A thin red line traced itself across the vampire’s throat, but it did not stop, so Sam reversed the swing of his sword and severed the creature’s head from its shoulders. He glanced over his shoulder and watched as Tom hacked at another of the un-dead beasts.

  With satisfaction, he noticed that his Sentinel warriors were slicing a bloody swathe through the massed ranks of Vampire infantry, but something niggled at the back of his mind; telling him that things were too easy. He knew that the Vampires, although immensely strong, were not the greatest of fighters. Therefore, Merihim should know this as well, which, to Sam’s experienced head, said to him that the un-dead warriors were nothing more than an obstacle to slow him down.

  Too late, Sam saw the silver-armoured cavalry charging at the rear ranks of his column. He blocked a loose untrained attack from a nearby Vampire and almost casually cut its head from its body. He then spun his horse around and galloped towards Tom. His brother saw him coming and after pulling his blade from the body of his latest opponent, rushed across to meet him.

  Sam brought his muscular mount to a skidding halt and as Tom thundered towards him, called, “Merihim has duped us.” He then pointed to the rear of the Sentinel column and continued, “Take the troops and put them into two lines, one facing the Cavalry and one facing the Vampires.”

  Tom nodded, but then asked, “Should we not withdraw so that we can reform?”

  Sam was about to answer, but a hail of enemy arrows silenced him. He grabbed his large rectangular shield from his back and then lifted it above his head to protect himself from the deadly cloud. Around him, dozens of Sentinel warriors screamed in agony and fell dead, with at least one arrow protruding from them. Three arrows thudded into Sam’s shield with such force that they nearly threw him from his saddle. However, he managed to regain his balance and after a quick glance to see that Tom was still alive, screamed, “Retreat!”

  On his command, the entire Sentinel column galloped away from the Vampires and headed towards a position in the east, near the mountain, which Sam had previously allocated as the emergency rendezvous. It took them a few minutes to escape from the Vampires, their huge horses slowly outrunning the enemy’s charging Elebulls, but Sam could see that they were drawing the silver-armoured Cavalry after them.

  Once they were far enough away from Merihim’s forces, Tom raced around the column, splitting it in half. Once the Sentinels were waiting in the two lines that Sam had suggested, Tom realised that the formation was too thin, so he moved them into six ranks. Three of which would fight the vampires, with the benefit of the other three protecting them against the enemy Cavalry.

  Sam nodded proudly, as he watched his brother organise the troops. Tom was nothing if not professional and his calm manner was instilling the assembled Sentinel warriors with a confidence that, until a few moments before, they did not feel.

  Seeing the enemy Elebull troop charging towards them, Sam drew himself up and roared, “Prepare for battle!”

  With this, the first three ranks of Sentinels rode forward at a slow deliberate pace. They drew their huge, black bladed swords and set themselves resolute against the horde of enemy warriors coming towards them. Sam waited for a few moments and then turned to Tom, before saying, “I’m going to charge the enemy. Wait until we hit them and follow up slowly. Hopefully we’ll hide you from the enemy.” He smiled, trying to show a courage that he was definitely not feeling, and continued, “When we’ve drawn most of the enemy to us, give Omni the signal.” His face then grew serious as he said, “When he leads the infantry out of the trees, you must keep your forces in reserve, only come to our aid at the last possible minute.”

  Tom did not answer; he merely nodded, knowing that his brother was not so much laying out the plan for him, but to help give himself the confidence to go into battle.

  Sam winked at Tom and then turned back to his troops. He kicked his horse forward and screamed, “Charge!”

  This spurred the two thousand Sentinels with him into action. Thundering forward like an angry tide, they charged towards the enemy Elebulls. Sam rode ahead of his Regiment, roaring incoherently with rage, as he swung his blade above his head. Closing with the enemy, he saw the closest of the Elebulls turn towards him; guided by its vampire rider.

  Sam leant over his horse’s neck and whispered in the stallion’s ear, driving it forward even faster. As he closed with the huge carnivorous beast, it snapped at his horse, but the monstrous stallion reared up and kicked it in the face. Sam stood up in his saddle and leapt forward, swinging his sword at the Vampire sitting on the Elebull’s back.

  Tom watched as the large force of Sentinels smashed into the enemy, desperately trying to stop himself charging to his brother’s side. Holding his hand up, he waited until the enemy cavalry had joined the battle with Sam’s troops and then dropped it.

  An archer behind him lit an arrow and then sent it flying high into the air. As it flew to its highest point, the trees, which lined the valley, began thrashing wildly and a herd of rider-less Sentinel horses burst from them, heading straight towards the battle. The galloping horses sped towards the silver-armoured cavalry, who were concentrating hard on their battle with the Sentinel warriors with Sam, so did not see them coming.

  The panicked horses crashed into the column of enemy knights, knocking most of them to the floor. As they sent confusion through the enemy cavalry, Omni, Manil and Muru crashed through the foliage and then charged out to meet the large enemy force with hundreds of Sentinels running behind them. It did not take long for them to reach the battle and very soon, they were hacking and slashing at the fallen enemy warriors; thinning their ranks so quickly that the enemy did not even realise that they were there. Tom watched as the battle swung their way. However, he still had a niggling feeling that things were going too well.

  A few miles to the south of the Sentinels, Peg was leading a thousand Nunnupi Cavalry against a company of enemy infantry. He had already led three lightning strikes, which had resulted in hundreds of enemy dead. Peg glanced across at Tavin, who was riding abreast of him and grinned; he was enjoying himself. He then held his sword in front of him as if it were a lance and shouted an ancient war cry.

  The Nunnupi riders crashed into the battered silver-armoured infan
try; the huge, massively muscled soldiers were no match for the lightning quick Cavalry. Peg drove his horse into a tight wedge of enemy soldiers, crashing through them and knocking them to the floor. He stood up in his saddle, tied his reins to the pommel of his saddle, as had Tavin, and then leapt somersaulting through the air. He and Tavin landed nimbly, as their horses continued smashing through the disorganised ranks of infantry.

  The two Nunnupi warriors charged at the enemy Captain. The massive soldier was a huge example of his breed and had already killed a number of Nunnupi on their previous attacks. As they neared him, Peg leapt high, sweeping his blade towards his head, as Tavin ducked low and cut at his feet. The enemy warrior leapt above Tavin’s sword, but was not quick enough to block Peg’s blow, which sliced through his helmet and split his forehead.

  As the Nunnupi committed themselves fully, a mass of enemy Cavalry galloped from the enemy camp to outnumber them. The Regiment of silver-armoured riders swept across the battlefield and hammered into Peg’s troops. Suddenly, Peg found himself fighting back to back with Tavin for survival, not for the win that he had been expecting. The enemy Cavalry surrounded the Nunnupi, offering them no chance of escape, as the infantry rallied to their reinforcements.

  Parrying a savage blow from a huge infantry soldier, Peg ducked and swept his sword in a deadly arc, which sliced through his opponent’s chin guard and killed him instantly.

  Strangely, Peg now found himself in a slight lull, with no opponent, so risking a glance to his right; he saw that Nunnupi casualties were mounting up. Exhausted and despairing, he peered around the battlefield. As he did this, a massive horse charged through the Nunnupi ranks and crashed into him, sending him sprawling; his sword slipping from his grip as he hit the ground.

  Peg rolled onto his back, reaching out to try regaining his blade, but as he did so, a long dark shadow fell over him. Looking up, he blanched when he saw an enemy warrior standing over him with a savage-looking war axe held ready to finish him. Helplessly, Peg watched as the axe began to fall. All of a sudden, the Captain of the enemy cavalry galloped across and kicked the axe wielding infantry soldier in the head, knocking him to the ground. Peg stared in shock as the enemy commander simply rode off after saving his life.