Sevenfold Sword: Unity

by Jonathan Moeller

  Tamlin charged a half-step behind Krastikon. Purple light flared around Krastikon’s shield as he called on earth magic, and he stepped into the fray. The muridachs howled and focused on him, axes rising and falling as they attacked, but Krastikon’s earth magic deflected their strikes. Tamlin took the opportunity of their distraction to attack, and the green blade of the Sword of Earth carved through two muridach berserkers. Next to him Calem struck, the Sword of Air slicing silvery arcs through the air.

  Tamlin pushed through the charge, and he slashed at the bronze hooks holding the tower’s ramp to the battlements. There were four hooks, and he cut through the first two. The ramp shifted with a metallic rasp, and a berserker leaped off the shifting ramp with a howl, axe raised to strike. Tamlin dodged around the first swing and snapped the Sword of Earth up to parry the second swing. The bronze axe shattered against the blade, and the berserker stumbled, a look of confusion on its rat-like face.

  The confusion worsened as Magatai stepped up and plunged his lightning-wreathed sword into the muridach’s chest. The creature gurgled and died, and Tamlin jumped past it, intending to sever the remaining hooks. But Krastikon beat him to it, and the Sword of Death rose and fell in two quick chops. The ramp shuddered again, and swung down to clang against the side of the tower, three more muridach berserkers falling to their deaths against the corpse-strewn ground below.

  “Calem!” said Ridmark. “Wait a…”

  Calem seized the battlements and vaulted over them.

  Ridmark sighed.

  A moment later the tower shuddered and fell over, and a heartbeat after that, Calem sprang back over the rampart, wraithcloak swirling around him.

  “I told you not to take any unnecessary chances,” said Ridmark.

  “I did not, Lord Ridmark,” said Calem. “There was no chance that the muridachs could catch me.”

  Magatai boomed a laugh. “Well-spoken.”

  “Then let’s catch some more muridachs,” said Ridmark, and Tamlin followed him as the Shield Knight led the way to a knot of gray elves struggling against muridach berserkers.

  ###

  Tamara watched the battle, clutching Amruthyr’s staff with both hands.

  Exhaustion flickered through her, but she kept it at bay. She had joined her powers with Calliande several times, using the magic of elemental earth to turn the ground beneath the towers’ wheels to thick, wet mud. That had been enough to tip over several of the siege towers, the engines falling to add their debris to the wreckage littering the hillside. They had also tried the same tactic on the siege ramp, but it had failed. The machine was simply too massive and had too many wheels attached, and the undead muridachs kept pushing it. The ramp rolled right through the pools of mud and kept going.

  Fighting raged up and down the ramparts to the west and the east. The gray elves and the Shield Knight were destroying the towers one by one, the archers sending flights of arrows into the charging muridachs, the ballistae hurling steady volleys of bolts into the enemy. Yet to judge from the tense expressions of the Lord Marshal and the High Augur, the gray elves were losing too many warriors.

  And there were not many reserves left to fight against the siege ramp as it crawled ever closer.

  Kalussa cursed and threw a crystalline sphere from the Staff of Blades. It struck the shivering dome of blue light around the ramp and shattered into nothingness.

  “Don’t bother,” said Calliande. “It looks like dozens of muridach priests combined their powers with Qazaldhar to create that ward. If I had more time, I could batter it down, but we do not.”

  “Any minute the ramp will fall,” said Rhomathar. “It will probably impact there, between the western gate tower and the first watch tower. I will summon what reserves we have, and we shall try to hold until the Shield Knight and the bearers of the Swords can destroy the ramp.”

  “Perhaps our powers alone shall be sufficient, Lord Marshal,” said the High Augur with a disdainful sniff. Tamara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. When the city fell, Athadira’s final words to the muridach who killed her would likely be a lecture on how the creature failed to appreciate the honor of killing the High Augur of the Liberated.

  “I doubt that very much, High Augur,” said Rhomathar. “I…”

  “The ramp is falling!” said Calliande.

  Tamara looked up as the massive wooden ramp started to fall forward, and she noticed two things at once.

  First, dozens of Throne Guards in their crimson armor clung to the wood. The berserkers were dangerous, but the Throne Guards were worse. They would make deadly shock troops, and they might carve a foothold onto the ramparts.

  Second, the ramp was coming down at the wrong angle.

  There was something wrong with the western hinge at the base of the ramp, and it was leaning in that direction as it fell. For a wild moment, Tamara wondered if the muridach engineers had made a mistake and the siege ramp would collapse under its immense weight. But while the engineers had erred, they hadn’t erred that badly. The line of the ramp slid to the west as it came down, and…

  Tamara realized that it was going to land right on top of her.

  “Move!” shouted Calliande. “Move, move, move!”

  Tamara threw herself to the left just in time. The huge ramp landed with a clang against the ramparts about two yards in front of her, the slab of wood and bronze striking with enough force to pulverize a portion of the battlements. The impact knocked Tamara from her feet, and she landed hard, the breath exploding from her lungs.

  Dozens of Throne Guards leaped from the ramp, swords raised high, and Tamara realized that the ramp had cut her off from Calliande and the Augurs and the others.

  Which meant that for at least a moment, she had to face dozens of Throne Guards by herself.

  And if she did not move right now, she was going to die.

  Tamara threw herself back to her feet, her back and knees throbbing from the effort. A dozen Throne Guards rushed towards her, howling for blood, and Tamara cast a spell. A wall of white mist erupted from her hands, and the muridachs screamed as the acidic mist washed over them. Yet with her power divided among so many, the mist did little harm, and the sigils of blood sorcery upon the crimson armor of the Guards blunted her power further.

  The creatures stumbled for a step, and then came at her.

  Tamara cast another spell, her staff glowing with purple light as she charged it with the essence of elemental earth. She swung the staff with both hands, and the nearest Throne Guard raised its blade in a parry, no doubt expecting the blow to rebound from its sword.

  Instead, the strength of the blow shattered the sword and broke every bone in the muridach’s right arm. The Throne Guard roared in sudden pain, and Tamara drove the end of her staff into its stomach. A dent the size of her head appeared in its crimson cuirass, and the creature doubled over. Another Throne Guard sprang at her, and Tamara thrust her staff. Her blow clipped the side of the muridach’s head, and that was enough to bend the creature’s neck to the right at a ninety-degree angle.

  Yet the rest of Throne Guards came at her, and Tamara retreated, trying to hold the spell over her staff. There was no way she could fight them all, but they were wary of her now, too cunning to let their blades come in contact with her glowing staff. Any moment now they would rush her.

  This, Tamara realized, was how she was going to die.

  A strange sense of calm settled over her. She had already died so many times in her nightmares. But what would this do to Tamlin? He had already seen her die twice. Would he have to see her die a third time?

  The muridachs started forward, and Tamara brought her glowing staff up.

  ###

  The deafening crash of the falling ramp filled Tamlin’s ears, and he risked a quick look to the east.

  The siege ramp had reached the walls, and he saw that the ramp had fallen against the ramparts. A second ramp had been lowered to the ground behind the first, and a mob of muridachs sprinted towards it. They w
ould charge up the ramp and swarm over the walls. The archers directed their fire towards the advancing muridachs, as did several of the ballistae, but it was like throwing a bucket of water into a forest fire. There were simply too many muridachs, and unless that ramp was destroyed soon, the muridachs would flood the walls of Cathair Caedyn. Or they would seize control of the gate, and once they did, the city would fall.

  “Let’s go!” shouted Ridmark. “Destroy that ramp!”

  They ran along the ramparts to the east as dozens of Throne Guards boiled off the ramp, and Tamlin saw a sight that made his blood run cold.

  Tamara was fighting them alone. The ramp had come down at an angle, cutting her off from any help, and the Throne Guards moved towards her. The golden staff glowed purple in her hands as she retreated, but the muridachs saw the danger of her weapon. Step by step they advanced, and once they were ready, they would overwhelm her and kill her.

  Tamlin sprinted forward as fast as he could, heedless of the dead muridachs and gray elves underfoot.

  He had seen her die twice before, once in Urd Maelwyn, and again in Trojas. He could not see her die again.

  He could not lose her again, not now, not after he had found her.

  Tamlin cast a spell as he ran, and he jumped, drawing as much of the magic of elemental air as his strength would allow. The spell picked him up and enhanced his leap, and Tamlin soared over the ramparts, over the top of Tamara’s head, and he crashed into the muridachs.

  His downward blow slashed through the neck of a Throne Guard, and the creature’s headless corpse fell to the ramparts, spurting blood. Tamlin landed, his knees buckling to absorb the impact of his landing, and he stabbed the Sword of Earth in several rapid blows, killing two more Throne Guards.

  The other muridachs struck back. An axe blow hit Tamlin in the chest. His gray elven armor deflected the sharp edge, but the Throne Guard was hideously strong, and the force of the impact knocked him back and probably cracked a rib in the process. The edge of another axe gashed his left forearm, and a third hit the crest of his helmet. His helmet held, but there was an explosion of white light behind his eyes, and Tamlin staggered back.

  “Tamlin!” shouted Tamara.

  He took the Sword of Earth in both hands and attacked, ignoring the pain and the dizziness. He had fought for his life countless times in the Ring of Blood while in pain and terrified, and this was no different.

  No, it was different. Tamara was behind him, and if he failed, the Throne Guards would kill her.

  Tamlin could not let that happen, no matter what the cost.

  ###

  Tamlin fell into the muridachs like a thunderbolt, and he started killing with the Sword of Earth. Yet Tamara could see that he was overmatched, that the Throne Guards would kill him in a matter of seconds. She had no spell that could help him. If she tried to use her acidic mist, she would only hurt him, and the muridachs would finish him.

  No! She had dreamed about him for years, and his face had been the only comforting thing in her nightmares. How could she lose him so quickly? She had never even kissed him. She had seen his face in the nightmare where she had been stabbed from behind, and in the more recent dream where she burned in the courtyard of the Blue Castra of Trojas.

  That dream…she had been someone else in that dream. Tirdua, the adoptive daughter of Theseus of Trojas. A separate life, but through some mystery of magic the same woman. It wasn’t possible, yet it had happened. Tirdua had lived an entirely different life than Tamara, had known things that Tamara had not, had possessed knowledge that she did not.

  Including the magic of elemental air.

  Tamara had always known how to use the magic of elemental earth. The knowledge had been in her head as if someone else had learned how to use it and put it there.

  Or if she had learned and forgotten.

  And in her horror and desperation as she saw the Throne Guards swarm towards her beloved, another thing that she knew without knowing how appeared in her mind.

  Tamara cast a spell, snarling with rage and urgency, and the light around her staff changed from purple to silver as for the first time in her life, she drew upon the magic of elemental air instead of earth.

  She thrust her staff, and a snarling coil of blue white-lighting leaped from the end and screamed forward. It slammed into the muridach nearest to Tamlin, and the lightning struck with enough force to kill the Throne Guard, stopping the creature’s heart in its chest. The lightning bolt leaped from Throne Guard to Throne Guard, killing five of them before the power of the spell drained away.

  Tamlin froze, glanced back at her in astonishment, and went on the attack.

  Tamara tried to pull together magic for another spell, but utter exhaustion rolled through her. She had never cast such a powerful spell before, and it was all she could do to keep standing. More Throne Guards rushed from the ramp, and she saw muridach soldiers reaching the bottom and starting to ascend, shields raised to ward off arrows.

  She needed to cast another spell, or she and Tamlin were going to die together.

  Oddly, she found that thought less distressing than the prospect of them dying separately.

  Then white fire flashed before her eyes, and the Shield Knight crashed into the Throne Guards. Ridmark Arban moved fast, so fast he had to be drawing upon his burning sword for speed, and two of the Throne Guards fell dead. Third, Calem, and Krastikon charged after him, and Kyralion and Magatai came to a stop next to her, bows coming up.

  “Fear not, Tamara Earthcaller!” boomed Magatai, sending two arrows into the muridachs. “We shall righteously smite the muridachs and send them fleeing back to their stinking caves!”

  One of the muridachs’ heads exploded as a crystalline sphere shot through it, and Calliande and the Augurs broke through from the other side of the ramp. The Augurs called more lightning, their bolts killing the Throne Guards, and Calem and Krastikon rushed to the edge of the ramp. They started hacking while Ridmark and Third protected them, and soon their two Swords had sliced through the section of the ramp against the battlements. The entire pile of wood and bronze shifted, and with a terrible rasping sound, the ramp slid against the outer face of the wall and crashed to the ground, killing a score of Throne Guards in the process.

  The gray elves rushed to repulse the remaining muridachs.

  ###

  Tamlin dropped to one knee, breathing hard, sweat and blood trickling down his face.

  He could not seem to get his breath back, and the ramparts were spinning around him. He had been wounded enough times in his life to realize that he probably had a concussion and a damaged rib that was pressing against one of his lungs. Probably his right lung, from the agony in his side. He really ought to get up and help the others deal with the remaining muridachs, but he could not quite get his feet underneath him.

  Metal rasped against stone, and a dark staff appeared in his vision, held in the right hand of a scowling young woman with blond hair.

  “For God’s sake, Tamlin,” said Kalussa. “You keep trying to get yourself killed. Hold still.”

  Tamlin could not quite get enough breath to answer, and Kalussa dropped to one knee before him, put her left hand on his right temple, and cast a spell. White light flared around her fingers, and an icy chill washed over Tamlin. Kalussa went rigid, her teeth clenched, the cords standing out in her neck. The chill intensified, and then faded away.

  The pain in his head and his side vanished, as did the gash in his arm and a half-dozen other minor scrapes he had acquired without noticing.

  “Huh,” said Kalussa, shaking her head. “That does get easier after time. That must be why women can have more than one child.”

  “Thank you,” said Tamlin, getting to his feet and trying to clear his spinning head. “I…Tamara, where’s Tamara? She…”

  He started to turn, and Tamara slammed into him, her arms wrapping around him, and Tamlin almost fell over.

  “You’re all right?” said Tamara, looking him over with h
er mismatched eyes. “You’re all right.” She looked at Kalussa. “Is he all right?”

  “Yes,” said Kalussa. She looked pleased with herself. “Thanks to my healing spell.”

  “Thank you,” said Tamara. “Thank you, Lady Kalussa. I thought he was about to die.”

  Kalussa swallowed, looked at Calem, and then back at Tamlin. “That leap was either the most gallant or the most foolish thing I have ever seen in my life.”

  “Why couldn’t it be both?” said Tamlin, grinning at her.

  Kalussa rolled her eyes but smiled as Tamara stepped back.

  “Tamara.” Tamlin turned his head and saw Calliande hurrying over. “That lightning bolt. Was that you?”

  “Yes,” said Tamara. “I have no idea how I did it. The spell...the spell just appeared in my head. Like I had learned it before but had forgotten it.”

  “Tirdua could use air magic,” said Calliande, “but not so powerfully. I wondered if you could regain memories or even skills from your other lives. It seems like you can. Maybe…” She shook her head. “We can worry about it later.”

  “Yes,” said Third, pointing over the damaged battlements. “We are about to have more immediate problems.”

  Tamlin looked over the walls. Most of the siege towers had been destroyed or pushed back, though several were still against the walls, the muridachs being driven back step by step. Yet the second wave of siege towers was already rolling forward, and in their midst came a huge siege engine that looked like a barn on wheels. Another flickering blue haze surrounded it, and the thing jerked forward foot by foot, pushed by hundreds of undead muridachs.

  He did not recognize the device at first, but then a chill washed through him.

  “They have a ram,” said Third.

  Chapter 16: The Woman In Flames

  Ridmark stared at the approaching ram.

  The damned thing looked like a barn on wheels. But that was only the housing for the ram, built to shield the muridachs wielding the huge weapon from arrows and ballista bolts. Inside the housing, Ridmark saw dozens of thick bronze chains hanging from a wooden framework. A half-dozen enormous tree trunks had been bound with bronze bands to form the shaft of the ram, and the head was an massive ball of polished stone. Sigils of blood sorcery burned on the stone head and the shaft of the ram, no doubt to give the weapon greater strength and power. Within the housing were hundreds of undead muridachs, packed next to each other, and they pushed the weapon forward.