Revelations of Doom

by Jedidiah Behe

  Thaluzont watched from atop his black mount and smiled inwardly at how the attack was progressing. The gate had been shattered and his men were pouring into the city. It was time to open the flood gates. He signaled to Tavar who was standing ready by their version of the Batoshi, the ones that the witches had stayed up all night enchanting. Not only would they fire a greater distance, but the clay projectiles themselves would cause a devastating explosion when they hit the wall.

  Tavar dropped his hand and the Batoshi released. Thaluzont watched the projectiles soar along on their path to the city.

  Kyrianna looked back when she heard the loud crack of the gate. She moved down the wall and was astonished to see the devastation that Lucian was causing to the enemy that came through the hole. He and a thousand men slammed into the horde as they bottlenecked through the hole, and at first it seemed as though they would drive the enemy back. But he pushed ahead too far and soon became surrounded. His momentum had stopped and he was now battling for his life. His armor was soaked in blood and it looked as though hundreds of men lay around him.

  Kyrianna could see that he was tiring and taking many hits. She rushed back to her archers and saw that the western wall was still holding. She called for a handful of them to follow her and she started running back along the wall to where they could offer some assistance to Lucian. As she neared the gate she thought she heard the release of Batoshi. It was a distant thought but enough to make her glance to the right and see that Thaluzont’s war machines had indeed let loose their projectiles. She looked up at the large flaming pots souring in and couldn’t believe what she was seeing. How could they be traveling this far? They’re going to hit.

  She tried to scream for her archers to turn back but couldn’t bring herself to react. She simply watched in horror as the giant flaming boulders reached their apex of flight and started hurtling down toward the city. Suddenly there was a thundering crash and Kyrianna was launched through the air. Chips of rock sliced past her as she fell, ripping her flesh. The ground rushed up to meet her and she hit it with such force that the world seemed to shatter around her. She thought she could hear her skull being crushed into chunks and then there was only darkness.

  The Lion Falls

  Solomon stood at the southern gate. He had gathered a handful of men with him in hopes to hold off whoever it was that meant to open the postern. His vision had shown him that this gate would be attacked and that a force waited on the other side. The rest was clouded and he did not know the outcome, but in the dream he saw many deaths and he refused to sit back and allow that to happen. What troubled him most was that this prophecy was coupled with an older one. One where he envisioned a man that had no face called the Wind Reader. It was this vision where he was certain that he saw his own death.

  Already he knew that Lucian was the Wind Reader. If the rest of his vision came to pass- The troubled thought lingered. He knew it was futile to try and change destiny but because of the fact that the clouded visions he had received previously often turned out quite different than he had thought, it gave him hope. He felt an overwhelming sense of dread but could not turn back from what he decided was his proper course of action.

  The soldiers with him seemed agitated that he wanted them there when there was no sight of any enemy to the south and the fighting was obviously to the north. When they heard a loud crack followed soon after by an explosion echoing through the city, they quickly abandoned Solomon and rushed off to where they thought they were needed. As he stood alone at the southern gate, Solomon realized that this vision was already taking a turn for the worse and the sense of dread within him grew. As he sat cross-legged in front of the gate, he never saw the assassins moving through the shadows.

  The ten assassins scaled the wall easily and were inside the city without notice. Their only mission was to open the southern gate so that Thaluzont's small force could rush into the city and attack the defenders from behind. When they arrived at the gate and found that a lone man stood guard, they exchanged sinister smiles.

  “This one is mine,” said the leader. “Once I have killed him, you are free to hunt for officers or whatever targets you deem worthy.”

  The others nodded in agreement.

  The leader watched the lone man as he crept around behind him. As he came closer he saw that he wore no armor except for twin gauntlets and armored shin guards. His head was shaved and tattooed with strange symbols. The leader thought that he had heard of such a man from one of the reports he had read but soon brushed away the thought. This was simply a man who would not even know how he died.

  The leader slipped quietly closer to Solomon and pulled the razor sharp cord from his sleeve with a small wooden peg on each end for gripping. He would slip the looped cord over the head and around his neck. A quick jerk and it would be over. With the sounds of battle coming from the north the assassin leader was sure that his approach would not be heard and he slipped in behind Solomon. With one quick, fluid motion he looped the wire over Solomon’s head and started to pull back. When he felt resistance, he jerked hard and expected to sever the head clean off, but suddenly the man was standing.

  Solomon had sensed the assassin’s approach. The vision he had, became clearer to him now, and the assassins movements played through his mind moments before they happened in reality. Quicker than his attacker could register, he brought one of his gauntlets up, blocking the wire intended to loop around his throat, and stepped back into the attacker. He reached back with his free hand grabbing the assassin behind the head and bent forward, launching him over his shoulders to land hard on the ground in front of him. The dazed assassin jumped up and produced a blackened dagger. He thrust out for Solomon’s throat but was not as fast as the Priest.

  Solomon snatched his wrist and at the same time he brought his other arm upward to slam into the elbow of the assassin’s outstretched arm. There was a snapping sound as the arm bent backwards in the opposite direction. Before the assassin could even scream out in pain, Solomon chopped his hand into the man’s throat, collapsing his windpipe. A wheeze escaped as he toppled to the ground.

  The others assassin’s watched in shock as Solomon effortlessly dispatched their leader. They rushed in to attack but Solomon was aware of their presence the entire time and was waiting. They each pulled out shortened, black-bladed swords and rushed in with coordinated attacks, one thrusting low as another went high. Their assault worked against them as Solomon maneuvered so that one of the strikes missed him and sunk deep into another assailant's chest. He spun and ducked another high sweeping strike and it connected with yet another assassin’s throat, nearly taking his head off.

  Solomon punched out, crushing the nose of one assassin and connected solidly with a kick to another’s sternum, snapping the thick bone and caving the man’s chest in. Instantly, four of the ten assassins were out of the fight and the one with the shattered nose was struggling to see through teary eyes. Solomon spun low avoiding two more strikes and swept one man off his legs with his gauntlet, destroying his knee at the same time.

  The assassins were trying furiously to strike down the Priest but his gauntlets deflected every attempt or he simply slipped out of the way. A blade came in at his head and he moved just in time, taking a small nick on the side of his neck. He grabbed the blade and used the attacker’s forward momentum to direct it into the chest of an advancing assassin behind him. Before the stunned attacker could pull his blade free, Solomon slammed his palm into the man’s nose, forcing the cartilage up into his brain. Even as the assassin dropped to the ground Solomon was moving.

  Flipping backwards to avoid two more attackers, he kicked one of them at the wrist, knocking his blade high into the air and the other one suffered a heel to the chin that shattered his jaw. As Solomon landed on his feet he lunged forward low, under a sweeping blade, and landed a heavy blow with an iron plated fist into the man’s midsection whose sword had just been kicked into the air. The strike doubled him over just in time for hi
s own descending sword to pierce through his back.

  The deadly play seemed to catch up with Solomon’s vision and he saw his end at hand. The last attack left him open for a moment and the skilled assassin with the shattered jaw did not miss it. His blade thrust in and despite Solomon’s quickness, his parry fell short and the blade deflected off his gauntlet, striking him in the shoulder. It was not a vital wound but it was enough to slow him. The assassin pulled the blade out and came swiping across high to try and finish the injured Priest, but Solomon caught the blade in between his gauntlets and spun, snapping it in half. He followed through with the rotation and struck out with a backhand, catching the surprised assassin in his already dismembered face with a spiked gauntlet. Although not quite deadly, the injury left the man writhing in pain on the ground, his face torn and shattered.

  The assassin with the broken nose had recovered and lunged in, scoring another hit to the Priest’s side below the first. Solomon snatched the blade and tugged it free. The assassin tried to pull it loose from Solomon's armored grasp but couldn’t and Solomon kicked out, slamming his shin into the killer’s side, snapping ribs. The man doubled over as if he was hurt but it was just a ploy. Solomon threw away the blade and moved to finish off the assassin when his hand thrust out, letting fly a hidden dirk.

  Injured, and too tired to realize the clever move, Solomon was barely quick enough to keep the dirk from hitting him square in the chest and it buried deep into his uninjured shoulder. He lost his footing and collapsed to the ground.

  The assassin, instead of pressing the attack, moved to the gate.

  Solomon tried to pull himself up from the dirt but winced as jolts of pain shot through his upper body. He watched in horror as the assassin pulled the gate lever that would release the counter weight, allowing the portal to open. As the portcullis started to rise the assassin turned and started back toward Solomon clutching his broken ribs, determined to finish the Priest off. Solomon tried to push through the pain and hoped he would be able to raise his arms in defense as the assassin neared, but what terrified him more was the sound of the approaching army. His vision was beginning to blur and he knew he was close to losing consciousness. The assassin was close enough to strike now and had picked up his sword. Solomon watched helplessly as the assassin’s arm rose up, bringing the blade high over his head.

  He didn’t understand what happened next as the tip of an arrow suddenly burst through the assassin’s forehead. He stood there for a moment with his sword held high and finally collapsed to the ground. Solomon saw waves of warriors coming through the gate and he realized he had failed. He fell back to the ground and let himself slip out of consciousness.

  As Shadows Give Way to Light

  Lucian stood up wearily as he regained his strength. His vision slowly focused and he gasped at the large section of wall that had been blown away next to the gate. The enemy must have concentrated their fire at one point to open up another hole so they could wash into the city, caring little for the large number of their own men who had died because of the tactic. The ground was littered with bodies, crushed under sections of wall.

  It wasn’t long before the horde started to filter in through the larger opening and that’s when Lucian saw Kyrianna’s lifeless form. She was lying amidst the rubble on top of an enemy’s mangled body. She must have been atop the section of wall that was blown away. Luckily she had landed on that soldier and Lucian could only hope that it had softened her fall enough to keep from killing her. Either way she was not moving and the enemy was pouring in through the breach, bearing down on her.

  Lucian thought he would not be able to stand after the blast but was now at a full charge toward her. He was more than twenty yards out from her though and the horde was half that distance. He screamed out her name as he stretched his legs, pushing himself on harder, realizing that the enemy was about to crush her under foot. Despite his speed and desperation, Lucian realized he could not get to her in time. He drew his sword back, preparing to throw it at the closest man to Kyrianna when suddenly an arrow struck the side of the soldier’s head, sending him tumbling over her. And then more arrows zipped past to sting into the approaching mob, dropping dozens at a time.

  Lucian heard one slice past his head and dove on top of Kyrianna. He looked back to see hundreds of barbarian looking women loosing arrow after arrow into the oncoming horde with deadly accuracy. In a matter of seconds, hundreds of the enemy had fallen as they spilled into the city. Lucian smiled widely at the sight of the Culdorans.

  The front ranks of the warrior women dropped their bows and charged forward pulling free small axes from their leather belts. As the rear ranks continued to fire over their heads, they let fly those axes into the enemy and then freed their favorite weapon of choice which most of them had crafted themselves. Tophin lead the charge and came to a crouch next to Lucian and Kyrianna while the rest of the proud race flowed past them and shouted out their battle cries, engaging the enemy in a vicious melee.

  “She lives!” yelled Lucian so that Tophin would hear him above the sounds of battle.

  Tophin nodded back, sharing Lucian’s beaming smile.

  “It is good to see you!” said Lucian as he clasped wrists with Tophin.

  “Sorry it took us so long, there were a few hundred of those curs hiding off to the south. My guess is that they were waiting for someone to open the gate for them. Your friend Solomon was there to stop them but it looked as though he was badly injured.”

  Lucian’ eyes went wide but Tophin put a hand on his shoulder. “Do not worry. I had three of our people stop to look after him. He is in good hands.”

  Lucian visibly calmed but could not stay out of this fight any longer. Even with the arrival of the Culdorans, the enemy still greatly outnumbered them. “Please, take Kyrianna to safety and make sure she is looked after.”

  Tophin nodded and carefully picked her up and carried her toward the palace. Lucian turned to the chaos that had erupted at the break in the wall and felt the divine power surging through him again, strengthening him. He picked Drovenalor up from the ground and felt his energy combine with that of the sword’s. It was time to end this.

  Tarriel and Eliath converged with their units to the section of the wall that had been blown apart. When Tarriel and her warriors saw that their fellow countrymen had joined the battle they fought with renewed rage, pushing forward to connect with their larger force. Tarriel fought on with deadly determination and the enemy fell helplessly before her and the Culdoran warriors.

  The two Culdoran forces and the main force of Vorea, led by Eliath and Nenghao, pinched off the enemy that had come through the gate and the small force, now surrounded, met a quick end. Lucian was the first to charge through the large ruptured wall, followed by his friends. They formed a wedge and punched through the enemy ranks far enough so the entire force could pass through the wall and spread out, forcing the enemy back. Lucian realized that the push from the northern tribes was not as concentrated as before and he rushed back to the wall to stand atop a large section that had fallen to the ground. As he looked out over the battlefield his heart soared at what he saw.

  From the west, the entire Ortsk army slammed into the flank of the enemy and they were quickly being joined by the Culdorans. The large, powerful men clad in thick, well-made armor and tremendous weapons fought side by side with the skilled warrior women and cut deeply into the enemy. From the east, Lucian’s brother led the small Yavasuran force along with the much larger Kaheendran army and Sanjeeran cavalry into the opposite flank of the enemy. Lucian could see that the purpose was to cut the northern army in half, trapping the head of the force between the allied tribes and crushing them.

  It wasn’t long before the pending doom caused the enemy soldiers along the front lines to abandon the attack and turn to fight their way back, to keep from being severed from the rest of their force. With the enemy more concerned with fleeing than fighting, they were cut down all the more quickly by the purs
uing force of Culdorans and Voreans, hungry to avenge the attack on their city.

  Atop his mount, Thaluzont observed without emotion the flanking maneuver that was threatening to cut his army in half. He was slightly surprised at how the other southern tribes could have come to aid Vorea in this battle but that was insignificant at this time. He signaled for Tavar and the burly general charged over on his horse.

  “Where is Lornareen?” bellowed Thaluzont.

  Tavar swallowed hard. “She is nowhere among us my Lord. I have men searching for her now.”

  Thaluzont waved Tavar’s worried expression away. “She knows her place. She must be close to her beasts to keep them in check. I want you to lead the cavalry along with the Hurandi to our west flank. I will lead the Boroon riders east. Send word that any man caught fleeing will be brought back to the dungeons of my fortress and dealt with by my own hand.” Thaluzont slammed down his face shield and spurred his massive mount onward. The rest of the Boroon riders, eighty five of them left, quickly followed into formation behind Thaluzont as he charged on toward the combined southern army.

  No tribe had ever faced anything like a mounted Boroon charge before and when Thaluzont met their ranks, the devastation was immense. Even the Sanjeeran cavalry faltered before the heavy beasts. Thaluzont cut a deep swath into the Kaheendran ranks and then rounded the charge out to the west. Now some of the Kaheendrans had to break off from the main assault to combat this new powerful threat, lessening the press on the main force. And with the word leaking back to the front ranks of the northern horde about those who might flee, men were turning with renewed vigilance to continue the assault on Vorea. None of those fighting under Thaluzont’s banner wished to be brought to his fortress as a captive. It was no small secret what happened to those who crossed him.