“Good point. Those crossbowmen are no longer a threat to us, so we don’t need such a low vantage point,” the captain replies, turning to examine the upper cliffs. She squints into the sun, her vision playing tricks on her with the heat haze. “We’ll go up one by one. That way we can continue the barrage and avoid them learning of our movements. I’ll take the rear. Each of us will take an extra quiver and leave the remainders here for emergencies.”
With a salute, the first archer grabs his gear and makes a slow climb up the crumbling stone face. A minute after he moves out of sight, an arrow sails into the crowd and hits the blade of a barbarian’s sword, startling the scarred warrior. Satisfied with the results of the new position, the captain whistles for the others to follow their companion. Every time an archer reaches the top, another arrow goes sailing into the armies. A few arc their shots in an attempt to hit the enemies on the wall, but repeatedly fall several feet short.
It takes thirty minutes for the squad leader to be the only one left on the lower ledge. She takes her extra quivers and nimbly scales the cliff face, her callused fingers easily finding handholds. Glancing up, she notices that her men are no longer firing arrows or talking. Unable to draw a weapon without falling, the chaos elf shuffles to her right and tries to reach the top from the opposite side of a boulder. A low grunt is the only warning the captain gets before someone dislodges the giant rock and sends it rolling down the mountain. Directly in its path, the archer leaps out of the way and stretches for a distant ledge. Her fingers slip on the crumbling edge and she bounces down the mountain, landing with a crunch at the bottom.
“That was definitely easier than dropping on them,” Dariana says, checking the defeated archers that have been hidden from view. Most of them received fatal slashes, but a few are merely knocked out due to the telepath’s weakened state. “What do we do now? We never went over our next move.”
“We enter the battle and I find my father,” Udelia replies while approaching a narrow pass that leads to the valley. She squeezes into the tight path, her chainmail occasionally catching on the rough stone. “Whether he’s a ghost or truly alive, I need to speak with him. One of us could die out there, so I don’t have a moment to lose.”
“What do you need to talk to him about?”
“Just something.”
“I have enough power to send him a message.”
“No.”
“So it’s not that urgent?”
Stuck in the tight pass, Udelia is unable to turn around and grab the other woman by the collar like she desperately wants. Instead, she continues to push forward while leaving a trail of broken stone and snapped rings of chainmail in her wake. It is a long, silent march to the valley and the sheriff’s armor is destroyed by the time they reach the bottom. The two warriors are several yards behind the chaos elf army and remain unnoticed as Udelia removes the larger scraps of chainmail from her body. Left only with a leather jerkin and an off-white shirt, she feels both exposed and invigorated by the danger. Scanning the battle, she struggles to spot the armored form of General Godric among the other warriors. A curse slips from her lips when she fails to locate her father and is forced to guess at his location.
“Wait,” Dariana snaps, catching the barbarian by the elbow. She ducks at the swinging backhand, relieved that her reflexes are steadily improving. “I’m happy to help you, but we need to know where we’re going. Give me time to pinpoint your father. Again, it would be easier to relay a message through telepathy.”
“Thank you, but I have no message,” Udelia replies, seeing the concern in the silver-haired woman’s eyes. With a sigh, the barbarian steps out into the open and takes a big sniff of the blood-soaked battle. “I never got to say good-bye to my father or sister. Now he is here again, so I only want to talk to him. A final conversation that I can cherish is all I’ve ever wanted. Unable to get that, I was settling for justice, but now I have a chance to speak with my father again. I refuse to let this pass me by.”
“I understand and apologize for what I said,” the telepath says, closing her eyes to use her powers. She struggles against the opal’s weakening enchantment and does her best to sort through the cacophony of violent thoughts. “Everything is so primal. I don’t think I can discern one barbarian from another. The only person I can pick out of the crowd is Luke because of his spirits. Maybe we can reach him and get his help.”
The cracking of stone and a low growl rises from the ground, which causes the two warriors’ blood to freeze. A swirling hole is forming near the entrance to the valley, the distortion noticed only by the barbarians on the wall. Udelia can hear several voices chanting from the other side of the battlefield as the muddy vortex gets larger and moves closer. The incessant growl becomes a roar when a pair of white stone arms burst from the earth and lift a bulky rock creature to the surface. Standing on gold-veined legs, the strange beast is at least eight feet tall and built like a bear with a tortoise shell. Its entire body is made out of rock, which crumbles and regenerates as the monster takes a step toward the battle.
The creature stops after a minute of slowly advancing, another roar shaking several stones loose from the cliffs. Plunging its hands into its chest, the monster yanks a boulder from its core and hurls the projectile. The jagged rock slams into the wooden wall, leaving a dent before falling to the ground and crushing a surprised barbarian. With an ear-wrenching bellow, the creature’s eyes telescope out of its head and rotate to improve its vision. After a minute of careful aiming, another chunk of stone is hurled at the same spot and smashes through the defensive barrier. Screams and shouts can be heard from the people inside Stonehelm as another boulder crashes on top of the wall.
“The remaining casters have pooled their auras to summon a Feldspar demon,” Dariana says, reaching out with her telepathy. Unable to defend herself, a backlash drives her to her knees the moment she touches the creature’s mind. “It’s so animalistic that I can’t do much in my weakened state. Not without risking my own sanity. We need to find the casters and defeat them in order to cancel the summons.”
“I heard chanting coming from over there,” Udelia claims before tackling her companion out of a boulder’s path. She turns to see another projectile heading towards them and rolls with Dariana to get out of the way. “How many of those things can it throw?”
“The Feldspar’s core is always regenerating, so it won’t run out of ammunition,” the champion answers, lashing out with a disruptive bolt. A surge of pain hits her body, but she sees the demon stumble and briefly beat on its head. “It’s stunned, so let’s move quickly. Don’t slow down for me because I’ll be keeping it dazed as we run.”
Udelia nods and sprints toward the far side of the valley, Dariana only a few steps behind her. The sheriff can hear boulders coming towards them, but the deadly projectiles repeatedly fall a few inches short of the sprinting women. Glancing over her shoulder, she sees that blood is dripping from Dariana’s ears and the Feldspar has returned to attacking the wall. No longer the objects of its attention, Udelia stops to hoist the telepath onto her back and hurries to where she believes the casters are hiding. Drawing her sword in one hand, she leaps into a shallow cave that is hidden from view of the city by a jutting wall of stone.
“What happened here?” the barbarian asks, seeing seven naked chaos elves unconscious on the floor. Their enhancer gems are sparking and humming, creating enough light to reveal that their owners are barely alive. “Do we wake them to disrupt the summons? Some of them are in very unnatural positions.”
“Their limbs are touching to create the demon summoning circle and they used their clothes to make a central fire. You can see a few buttons in the ashes,” Dariana explains, kneeling next to one of the casters. Touching the man’s forehead, she shudders at the emptiness inside his mind and body. “They didn’t just combine auras to do the summons. These casters put all of themselves into that demon. Killing them would be like burning snake skin that has already been shed. All of
this to regain their homeland.”
The sheriff walks outside of the cave and watches the Feldspar continue its destructive barrage on the wall. None of her people are able to break through the chaos elves to confront the demon, but she can see several are trying. The attempts have left many of them isolated and desperately fending off the flood of invaders. She dives back inside when the creature roars and throws a boulder at her, the stone shattering against the mountain.
“I would go to such lengths for Stonehelm,” Udelia whispers as Dariana joins her at the entrance. She puts her broadsword on her shoulder and takes another look at the unconscious casters. “They’re willing to sacrifice themselves for their people. To defeat such an act would require a similar one. What happens to them if I kill the Feldspar?”
“It depends on how strong they are, but you can’t beat that thing alone,” the champion politely replies. Refusing to cow before the angry glare she receives, Dariana puts a hand on the other woman’s stomach. “Hardened leather and woven cloth won’t protect you. Your sword seems to have a durability enchantment, but you would need more strength than your body has to break the Feldspar’s outer shell. Let me try to take it apart from the inside. It’s a risk, but it’s all I can think of doing.”
“Your powers barely work on it and I do have the strength to kill it,” the sheriff confidently states, examining her weapon. A single link of chainmail that is stuck to her shirt catches the barbarian’s attention and makes her smirk. “Kerr is on my side. All I need is for you to unlock me. Go into my mind, Dariana, and awaken my rage. You have heard of the legendary fury of my people that has scared many outside of the tribes. Many think it is the modern rage that we can unleash with ease, but it is really a more terrifying gift that lurks within all of us. We keep it restrained these days because there is rarely a reason to become a true berserker. This is a time where such a warrior is needed.”
“Will you survive?”
“Only if Kerr wishes it.”
“I don’t-”
“Either you do it or I go into the fight as I am now.”
The resolve in the sheriff’s eyes tells Dariana that she cannot talk her companion out of such a dangerous plan. Hearing the screams of people getting hit by the boulders, the telepath reaches out to delve into Udelia’s mind. With the other woman giving permission, she finds it easy to move through the first barrier and push into the depths. Waves of guilt, loneliness, and anger attempt to drag the telepath into an abyss of self-loathing, which spouts greasy arms that fail to catch a solid hold on the intruder. A choking darkness consumes the psychic landscape, a mixture of cackling laughter and mournful cries attempting to drive the champion away. In responses, visions of the sheriff’s family and friends rise from the ethereal shadows to give Dariana enough light to find her way. It is a short, straight path due to the clarity that has overtaken the barbarian, so the telepath risks breaking into a sprint. Sensing every obstacle, the gracefully vaults over a few holes in the road that lead to the darkest recesses of the sheriff’s psyche. After what feels like hours of constant running, but has only been seconds in the real world, the muscular form of Kerr appears in the distance. A crimson orb is in his hand, which he lowers to the path when Dariana gets within reach.
“I trust you to honor her, Godling,” the Barbarian God booms from every direction. His face appears in every shadow, the eyes flickering like hungry flames. “This is not an easy decision and she will not survive. Tell her that I will be the first thing she sees on the other side. Udelia Godric-Kalten will not have to wait for me to claim her from Ram’s Garden.”
The orb erupts at Dariana’s touch and bathes the entire mindscape in a blood-like pallor. A shockwave sends the telepath back to her own mind in time to hear the echoing battle cry of her companion. The barbarian looks no different than before aside from a maddening glint in her eyes and a throbbing throughout her muscular frame. Desiring nothing more than battle, Udelia charges the Feldspar and smacks a boulder out of the way with her sword. Leaping over another chunk of stone, the sheriff comes down with a powerful swing that drives her weapon into the demon’s shoulder. A stony fist strikes her in the side with enough force to splinter ribs and dislodge the sword. Immune to pain and driven by the purest rage, Udelia punches the Feldspar in the jaw and shatters half of its face. She is unaware of her broken fingers as she slams her shoulder into the monster’s stomach and begins pushing it away from Stonehelm, its clawed feet leaving deep furrows in the earth. Not wanting to lose ground, the demon delivers a crushing blow to the warrior’s back that seems to only make her angrier. Jamming her broadsword into the Feldspar’s solid gut, the bloodied barbarian grabs it by the neck with her other hand and lifts it into the air. Deadly punches rain down on her head and chest as she twists her weapon and stretches her muscular arms wide. The loud cracking of stone mixes with cheers from the distant wall while Udelia tears the roaring demon in half. Dropping the body to the dirt, she stomps on the Feldspar’s head to turn the creature into powder.
The rear line of chaos elves are about to advance on Sheriff Kalten when she roars, her blood-soaked face enough to make most of her enemies lose their courage. She only manages to take one forceful step since her main enemy is dead and the berserker rage is already fading away. Collapsing to her hands and knees, she waits for the invading warriors to swarm and attempt to finish her off. Instead, a burly form bashes through the chaos elves and skids to a stop while tender hands roll Udelia onto her back. She can see Dariana leaning over her while Cyrus rapidly swings his hammer at the approaching enemies, who cautiously remain beyond his deadly reach. The chaos elves’ fear is like a thick soup in the air that makes the fatally injured woman laugh with pride.
“I guess I won’t be talking to my father like I wanted,” Udelia whispers, pulling Dariana closer. Suffering from severe internal injuries, flecks of blood and bone chips spew from her throat every time she coughs. “I think this is atonement for my sins. All of what happened with Timoran is my fault. It was my job to investigate the accusations against him, but I let my emotions get the best of me. If I’d only done my job then I would have uncovered King Edric’s trickery and the damn trial never would have happened. Timoran could have come home without worry. My father might have even come out of hiding before today. Instead of repairing the damage, I acted like a stubborn child and held onto my hate. Tell Ti . . . my brother-in-law that I’m sorry. Make sure my father knows I’ve missed him all these years.”
“Kerr wants you to know that he will be claiming you immediately,” Dariana says, stroking the woman’s blood-caked hair. A sudden pulse from the opal warns her that Udelia will pass away at any moment, prompting her to prepare for a surge of energy. “He also wants me to honor you. Cyrus! Protect us while I do something. I only have a second to pull this off. Maybe not even that long.”
“What are you doing?” the sheriff weakly asks as the telepath puts cool fingers on her temples.
“Just relax and trust me.”
The women close their eyes and pick up on each other’s faint thoughts as death takes the barbarian. As soon as Udelia’s heart stops, the collar falls off Dariana and she reaches out with her full power. Before her ally’s mind fades into the ether, she copies all of the sheriff’s family memories and emotions. There is nothing to see, so the telepath is forced to work by touch and instinct alone. It is a scramble to grab everything while the mental world crumbles into psychic dust. The laugh of Kerr rumbles in the darkening sky as Dariana stores the sheriff’s thoughts in her own mind and awakens from her trance. She is surprised to see the Barbarian God standing at the mouth of the valley, his arm raised as another figure materializes before his palm.
“Not the honor I had in mind, but good job, Daughter of Purity,” Kerr states before leaving with Udelia by his side.
“Is she gone?” Cyrus asks as the chaos elves charge.
“Yes, but I-”
Dariana’s words are cut off as something slams into the m
iddle of the battlefield. The impact sends clouds of dust pouring through the valley and the earthquake knocks all of the combatants off their feet. Warriors from both armies are sent hurtling in every direction while chunks of rock tumble from the cliffs. Dariana and Cyrus try to withstand the shockwave that is rolling towards them, but they are sent flying back along with the rear guard of the chaos elves. The two defenders crash in a heap and struggle to see through the billowing cloud, but it is too thick to view anything other than the groaning soldiers of the fallen armies.
*****
Cut off from the other barbarians, Timoran battles his way through the thick sea of chaos elves. Cleaving multiple enemies with every swing, he carves a path toward the southern wall of the valley. Several weapons have found his flesh, but none of them have done more than shallow cuts and bruises on his skin. Scratching at his chest, the point of a sword is embedded in Timoran’s vest, the battered blade having broken as he twisted away. His knee is still adorned with a bloody splotch from when he caved in the swordsman’s chest. Fewer and fewer of the invaders are haphazardly attacking him, the newer challengers proving to be more cautious than their aggressive predecessors. It gives the champion time to breathe, but he realizes that it is also allowing him to calm down.
“Away from the wall!” shouts one of the crossbowmen from atop the wooden barrier.
Timoran and the surrounding chaos elves look up in time to see a boulder strike the wall and crash on top of another barbarian. Sensing that a new threat has appeared at the far end of the valley, the red-haired champion attempts to charge through the invading army. He does not get very far before three bleeding chaos elves tackle him around the ankles. Swinging and twisting as he falls, Timoran manages to kill an approaching enemy and stomp on the throat of one of his attackers. Leaving his weapon on the ground, he grabs the other two warriors who are gripping his legs and yanks them off their feet. Wielding the men like awkward clubs, he bludgeons every invader that is within reach. Once he is sure that the chaos elves in his hands are dead, he tosses the bodies into the crowd and dives for his great axe. The space he has made is steadily closing before he can stand and he finds several sharp weapons are already heading for his back.
Tribe of the Snow Tiger (Legends of Windemere Book 10) Page 30