The Chronicles of Lumineia: Book 03 - Seven Days

by Ben Hale

  By sword and sinew the mighty fiends attacked, and through the map, Braon watched men and women die. One after another the huge warriors threw themselves at the defensive wall, which shuddered in response.

  Any normal wall should have already given way, but Braon had asked the dwarven artisans to construct the fortifications on the Lake Road to be porous, and absorb impact. Instead of smashing the stone to powder, the furious assault seemed to sink into the barricade. It would give them precious time.

  But even with Braon’s plans the wall was beginning to buckle. Armored flesh met stone . . . and the stone was yielding. While spears and arrows rained down on them from the defenders, the mighty kraka's battered the bulwarks. A moment later, Thacker supported what he was watching.

  “Golic reports that the first wall is about to fall,” he said, a trace of fear seeping into his tone.

  It should not be this soon, Braon thought, his heart sinking in despair. It has only been an hour!

  His brow furrowed and his eyes closed as he cast about for something, anything to delay the fall of the first wall. Suddenly his eyes snapped open and he slid the map to the side, hoping. An instant later the Blue Lake came into view, and the hundreds of ships that bobbed on its waters. Even in the map, Braon could see thousands of tiny missiles flying from their decks and cascading into the roiling mass of the enemy.

  Braon nodded fiercely, “Order all ships within range to fire every ballistae they have at the ones attacking the first wall. It cannot be breached this early.”

  Looking back at the map, Braon waited, praying that the extra firepower would arrive in time. With practiced fingers, he enhanced the map so he could get a better look at the battle unfolding below . . .

  ***

  Golic leaned out over the first wall of the Lake Road and plunged his large sword into the neck of a kraka just as it had reached the top, feeling a flash of gratitude that the boy commander had allowed him to fight in the front line. Growling in satisfaction as the fiend fell, he shouted, “Stand your ground! Do NOT let them get through!” Barbarians all around him roared their battle cries and renewed their efforts to stave off the onslaught, answering the call of their clan leader.

  A flurry of black streaked towards him and on instinct he ducked, barely managing to escape the spear as it flew past his head. Roaring in anger, he reached for one of the large, double-bladed throwing axes favored by his people. With his muscles cording in the enormous effort, he swung the axe back and whipped it over his head with both hands.

  End over end the axe flew, its twin heads catching the sunlight until it crashed into the head of the offending skorpian. The crunch of the exoskeleton echoed even over the din of battle, and the beast reared, emitting a piercing squeal of pain. Stomping and thrashing, it crushed and tossed the smaller fiends as it clawed at the embedded axe with its pincers.

  Golic raised his large sword into the sky, bellowing his war cry, and all around him barbarians joined him.

  “Sir!” Someone called behind him, and he dropped behind a parapet to find Seath, the oldest of Thacker’s sons and his Link to Commander Braon. Although the young man had never been in battle, raised as he was among the softer humans, the youth seemed to be holding up well under the circumstances.

  Before Golic could ask, the seventeen-year-old yelled, “We need to get the ships to direct their fire at the group attacking the wall.”

  Golic nodded and raced for the descending steps. Without looking he knew Seath would be behind him, just as he had been trained. Golic's braided black hair billowed out behind him as he jumped the last few steps and darted to the edge of the road. From here, he could see the massive Blue Lake stretching into the distance, its clear water lapping the stone less than thirty feet below.

  Hundreds of vessels bobbed on the surface, and innumerable arrows, crossbow bolts, and ballistae flew from them, plunging into the black army on the other side of the wall. Raising his voice, Golic called to the small schooner anchored at the base of the cliff, “Focus everything you have on the ones attacking the wall!”

  The man disappeared from view, and a moment later rushed to raise a different flag. As the ships took notice of the new orders the barrage shifted direction, until thousands of barbed missiles pummeled the force attacking the wall. Surprisingly, the eight pirate ships under captain Raize were the first to respond, and their deadly accuracy had an immediate effect.

  Roars of pain and rage from the giant kraka’s announced precise hits, and the sounds of their armored bodies slamming into the wall began to diminish. Even now, Golic could see injured and dead fiends being thrust out of the way. Bouncing off the rocks, they fell to the water below. Grunting in satisfaction, Golic turned to Seath, “The attack has slowed for now, but I don’t know how much longer we can hold.”

  His report issued, Golic turned to the Amazon waiting beside him . . .

  ***

  Braon wiped the sweat from his brow as he saw the press against the first wall begin to subside. Dividing their foes attention as he'd hoped, the fiends launched themselves into the water as they sought the source of the barrage. Now with multiple targets, the black spears rained down on the ships as well—relieving some of the pressure at the wall.

  If it fell this early. . . He couldn’t bear to finish the thought. He listened to Thacker pass on the expected report and said, “Tell him to inform me when the first wall is threatened again.”

  Taking a deep breath, Braon expanded the map to show the entire battle once more and began to hunt for trouble spots. Before he could find one, a shadow fell over the room and he looked up. Originally the room that he had appropriated for his map room had been the great hall of the house of Runya, and one of the reasons he had chosen this spot was because of the view. High and vaulted, the walls and ceiling alike had been enchanted with magic similar to that used in the map.

  Plants had been imbued with light to make the room seem as if it rested at the very top of Le Runtáriel. The display was so clear Braon could look out over the enormous army from a point at the exact center of Azertorn—eight hundred feet off the valley floor. With the branches from the massive sacred tree swaying in the wind, it even gave the impression the room moved with the breeze. Adding to the effect, the darkwood floor lent to the sensation of a tree house.

  But Braon only had eyes for his enemy and the world around him. There were too many lives at stake for him to be distracted—and if he ever forgot, he just had to look at the sky. The entire southern expanse of the once blue sky appeared gray, dimming the light above Draeken’s army. With no end to the dark cloud to the south, only the sky above the city and to the north remained clear. Even as the battle raged below, the heavens mirrored the dividing line between the two forces.

  The shadow crossed over the room again. A massive red bird had just glided into view, and Braon thought, Reiquen, can you please take Newhawk to strengthen the Lake Road?

  The phoenix tipped his wings above him and he received a mental response from the graceful bird. Of course.

  Braon felt a rush of gratitude to have won the loyalty of the phoenix, and his rider, Newhawk. The druid leader and his intimidating mount had become the figurehead of their entire army, and many of the commoners were under the impression that he was their commander. Braon had done his best to foster the belief, as the ruse had proved useful in many ways. Tall, strong, and charismatic, Newhawk displayed all the characteristics of a natural born leader. And Reiquen, the only phoenix to ever bond with a druid, possessed a deep intelligence—and tremendous fire magic.

  As the phoenix flapped his regal wings, Braon stood frozen as the magic wall and ceiling showed what he had been watching on the map. Beyond the city, a roiling black mass stretched to the horizon. Rippling, the black ocean of evil beings bent on their destruction rolled forward in an unending course, a tidal wave to crash against their defenses, threatening to wash them away.

  Braon swallowed, and steeled himself for what had to be done. Every rac
e of Lumineia depended on him and his strategy. He could not afford the time to wallow in despair. Dipping his head back to the map, he scanned the enchantment to see what else needed attention. Seeing a break in the line, he enhanced the view and began issuing commands.

  For the next several hours he perused the map and issued orders. Without stopping to eat, he crammed food into his mouth as he scanned his magic atlas for any sign of a breach, any hint of an opening. Again and again he issued orders and watched over his generals. All seven had grown accustomed to his curt commands, and they followed his instructions with precision as the sun rose into the sky and began to descend.

  Time after time, he directed his army to defend their areas, even to the point of anticipating his opponent’s attacks before they occurred. Although many men and women died in those hours, their line held, repeatedly throwing fiends to their deaths. The gathered races defended the top of their cliff valiantly . . . and dared to hope for victory.

  Suddenly Thacker spoke, his voice filled with dread. “We have a problem.”

  Braon had the map once again focused on the city, and his heart sank as he looked at the man that had been by his side for more than a month. Thacker’s face had lost all color and his next words came out in a whisper, “One of fiend generals has been sighted at the Lake Road.”

  Braon closed his eyes. Of the four generals, one had already been killed. That left War, Plague and Famine. Famine he believed could be injured, if anyone could get close enough. He doubted War would show himself, being the head of the army. Plague would be the worst. He knew of no way to injure or kill him.

  “Which one?” He asked softly.

  “General Golic says he can’t tell yet, but his men are beginning to feel sick.”

  Plague, Braon thought, despair rippling through him. So soon?

  “He is getting closer, and the rest of the army has pulled back. Do you want General Golic to attack him?”

  He opened his eyes and nodded, “With everything they have, magic and weapon.” He paused to control his fear. “But be ready to retreat if he gets too close.”

  Turning back to the map he shook his head. How do I defeat a disease?

  Chapter 2: Plague

  Golic fought the sudden wave of nausea and forced himself to look over the battlements. For a hundred yards the enemy had withdrawn, leaving only dead fiends between them and the first wall. Now a solitary figure crossed the bloody ground, moving slowly as it picked its way through the torn corpses. A tattered shroud failed to hide the revolting sores that covered its visible flesh. Mottled tumors, sickly green and yellow, grew thick and septic all over its body. Under the hood, the creature’s face had turned sallow and squashed, like an old pumpkin that had gone soft over time.

  As it neared, Golic signaled for the amazon archers and his barbarian axe throwers to launch their missiles. Double bladed axes and steel tipped arrows whistled through the air and struck true—but the impact hardly slowed Plague as gasps of horror escaped the defenders. As each deadly projectile plowed into the dark general, it stuck fast for only a moment, until a scabbed and lesion riddled hand reached up and pulled the weapon free.

  Golic felt his stomach spasm, but he clenched his jaw and forced it down. “Archers, retreat to the second wall! Magi, begin your assault!”

  Amazons and barbarians alike turned and ran in relief, racing to put some distance between themselves and the horrid monster behind them. To their credit, only a few paused to wretch onto the rocky ground. Mages from both their peoples remained, casting their most powerful spells.

  Normally used to strengthen allies, the body magic of the barbarians attempted to weaken the disease riddled figure to the point of collapse. Piercing sound from the amazon sirens blasted towards the horrible creature—but it didn’t slow. Gliding right through the magical attacks, it paused . . . and then raised a hand.

  The nausea intensified a hundredfold.

  Tasting bile, Golic grasped his stomach and shouted for a retreat to the second wall. Hunched and stumbling, the magi and the few remaining warriors hurried up the road to the second wall. As he put more distance between himself and the source of the magical disease, Golic felt the burgeoning vomit begin to subside. Gasping for breath he darted through the doors and grabbed Seath’s shaking shoulder as he followed him through.

  “Tell Braon . . .,” he paused to swallow and take several breaths, “that magic and blade had no effect.” He leaned against the wall, struggling to contain his stomach and the desperation from his voice. “What are his orders?”

  ***

  Braon listened to Golic’s plea without taking his eyes off the magical map. Enhanced to the maximum degree possible, he’d watched every attempt to slow the general. His brow crinkled in deep concentration as he puzzled out what to do. In the back of his mind he knew there was one solution he had prepared, but he had not anticipated having to activate it this early in the battle. Putting that plan into effect would cause them to lose the first three walls, and he had intended on using it only after those barriers had already fallen to the enemy—meaning it wasn’t quite ready.

  But there was no other solution, so he sighed and turned to Thacker. “Inform General Emeka to ready the dwarven magi along the lake road. Then tell Golic to retreat to the fourth wall. We will ignite the cliff on my signal.”

  ***

  Golic watched Seath blanch in a way that was not related to a magical ailment. “What is it?” he asked.

  “Retreat to the fourth wall . . . and get ready to blow the cliff on his signal.” Seath said, his eyes wide.

  Leaping into action, Golic gave fast orders and raced to help the retreat. Wheeling the wounded and loaded down with extra weapons, the group pushed their way to the third wall as quickly as they could manage. Crammed to a bottleneck, they worked their way through as the nausea began to increase again. Finally the last of the group managed to get through the gate. Golic brought up the rear, helping a wounded man limp forward as he glanced back in time to see the wooden gates of the second wall crumble into mold. Gliding through, the diseased general continued his dogged pursuit.

  Growling, Golic heaved the other barbarian onto his shoulder and sprinted the remaining distance to the fourth wall. Arriving last, he pushed through and ordered the gates sealed behind him. With a grunt, he carefully lowered his load into the waiting arms of healers. Then he darted to the top of the wall with Seath trailing behind him.

  As soon as he reached the ramparts he directed his report to his Link. “Tell him we are ready.” Sending a prayer skyward, he raised his eyes to the cliff on his right.

  ***

  General Emeka, the dark skinned king of the Azüre people, whirled when the soft voice of Jake, his Link said, “Commander Braon needs you to ready the dwarven magi next to the Lake Road.” The twelve-year-old's face showed he had no idea what the order meant, but had dutifully passed on the instructions.

  Emeka’s lips thinned in disapproval. For him to take orders from the boy commander still rankled, but he had no choice. After he had issued a direct challenge, Braon had bested him—although he still felt that the child had cheated. Now the great king of the island tribes had been reduced to accepting orders from another boy, albeit a telepathic one.

  “Adaeze, see to our commanders’ orders. I will ride to the front line and see how our defenses are holding.” He took two steps and paused when he heard the quiet footfalls behind him. Braon had expressly charged the generals to keep their Links by their sides at all times, protected and available to pass on orders. The same charge prevented Emeka from going into battle, depriving him of the opportunity for his due glory.

  It further grated that Braon had allowed only the barbarian leader to fight in front with his people, spouting something about barbarian culture. Despite Emeka’s best efforts, the commander hadn’t allowed him the same privilege.

  On impulse, he spun on his heels and said, “Take the boy with you. Braon might need to give you further informat
ion.”

  “But—,” Jake stuttered.

  Emeka threw him an icy glare that silenced him, and then strode from the second story lookout post without another word.

  ***

  Adaeze watched her father go with sadness, knowing his pride would be his eventual undoing. Sighing she turned to the young man, “How critical is this order Jake?”

  After a moment his eyes widened and all color drained from his face. “Braon says there is no time to deal with General Emeka. We have less than five minutes before the Lake Road is lost!”

  Before she even knew what she was doing, she’d grabbed the back of the boy’s shirt and dragged him down the stairs and outside. Ignoring his sputtering, she threw him onto a horse and leapt up behind him. Kicking her heels into the animal’s flanks, she picked up speed and ignored the cries of protest from Jake’s bodyguards.

  “What do we have to do?” she shouted into Jake’s ear over the pounding of hooves, trying to direct their mount around the thousands of tents and milling soldiers.

  “The dwarves have rigged detonating magic inside the cliff above the road," he said. "When activated, it should bring down enough rock to block the entire roadway.”

  “Why didn’t we do this before?” she yelled in frustration.

  “We can only do it once, and Commander Braon wanted to wait until he had to use it.”

  Growling at her own confusion, she galloped past the small ridge where their battalion got its name. Then the edge overlooking the Lake Road came into view. She directed their mount towards the only group of dwarves in sight and reigned in the horse at the last minute. Before the trembling steed had stopped she was on the ground. “Get ready to release whatever you prepared.”

  The dwarves hesitated, clearly not expecting to see her. Then one caught sight of Jake and nodded. “It’ll take a few minutes to prepare,” he said in a deep, growling voice.