Silas’ weapon changed from sword to arrow to sword again, proving the staff knew the best defenses.
The undead seemed to charge in for hours, without an end in sight. The Dunarians had not lost too many of their good soldiers, but they were tired. Silas knew this had to be the enemy’s plan. Once the Dunarians could barely stand, they would be faced with an opponent who actually possessed the skill to think and fight with their own instincts. First, the undead would wear them down, then the Stühocs and Nestorians would come.
Silas found that as long as he stayed alert, the Soldiers of the Dead could not take him down. Their fighting technique was predictable and easy to counter. But more and more, as the troops began to weaken and tire, the fighting dead were able to overcome even the sharpest sword.
In several instances, Silas saw a man or a woman tackled to the ground, only to be jumped on by ten more mind-controlled Humans. They never stayed on a body for too long either. Once their enemy lay lifeless on the ground, they would move on to the next victim. Then the next.
Silas’ sword changed into a shield more often as the enemy grew in number. Everywhere he looked bodies and blood covered the ground. He finally heard Kaden call out for him to break away from the fighting and meet him at the top of the east wall.
Silas followed his leader up a large flight of stairs, though not without taking down several of the ravenous Humans. When he finally joined Kaden at the edge of the wall, the man pulled him aside to the corner, out of view from the fighting. He held an arm against Silas’ shoulder and wiped the sweat from his brow as he glanced over the wall at the enemy.
“The Stühocs are in line behind the Soldiers of the Dead,” Kaden said.
“Why did you call me up here?” Silas asked, trying to catch his breath. “We should be helping the others.” He tried to push by Kaden, but the man grabbed him by the cloak and shoved him hard against the stone wall.
“I’m fulfilling my last duty in The Reckoning,” Kaden said.
Silas gave him a confused stare, waiting for the man to continue.
“I want you to head down to Marenon’s Map. It’s completely secure.”
Silas shook his head vigorously. “No.”
“Silas, don’t argue with me. I swore to protect you and help you become the one you were prophesied to be. I haven’t really had a chance to talk to you about your meeting with the Gatekeeper, so that means only you and Inga know how to finish what was started.”
“Kaden, I don’t want to leave these people! What am I supposed to do, stay below Jekyll Rock? For how long?”
“There is a way out,” Kaden assured him. “It’s in one of the rooms down there behind a bookshelf. I haven’t actually used it in a long time. Your grandfather, Garland, showed it to me many years ago, and you can use it to get out of here.”
“I don’t feel right about leaving all of you behind,” Silas said.
“It doesn’t matter how you feel,” Kaden answered him. “You have a responsibility to finish this. And you can’t do that here!”
The two of them stared at each other for a long moment. Would this be the last time they ever saw each other? Silas hated the thought. But Kaden was right, and the man didn’t even know that there was a possibility that Silas could die in all of this.
He reached out a hand and placed it on Kaden’s shoulder, not knowing what to say to someone who probably wouldn’t survive the night.
“Just go, Silas.”
Silas did as he said, refusing to look back at him. It wasn’t fair for anyone else that Silas had a chance to live through the night.
Several Soldiers of the Dead stepped in front of him before he made it to the fortress at the end of the wall, but they fell easily enough.
He opened the nearest door and slipped in without notice. His sword turned into the original polished staff, showing he was safe from harm. The last sound he heard from the outside was the screaming Stühocs charging in to finish off the Dunarians.
If only I had the six medallions, Silas thought, then the enemy wouldn’t stand a chance.
Chapter Twelve
The Stühocs shoved through the broken gate, without regard for who they cut or maimed; they did not care whether they were Dunarians or Soldiers of the Dead. It didn’t matter. To them, as long as all the Humans were dead on the ground, it would be a victory.
Alric stayed close to Lorcan and Coffman, but kept even closer to Nalani. For some reason he felt more responsible for her than he did anyone else. The fight had been easy against the Soldiers of the Dead, but the Stühocs began to break them all apart.
Dunarians spread in every direction, doing everything they could to hold on to life. The sarians helped a little, but there were only a few of them against thousands of Stühocs and Nestorians.
Alric moved without thought. Every motion he made saved his life and ended another’s. He glanced at Nalani from the side and saw her watching the Stühocs beginning to break into the fortress through a wooden door on the east side.
He knew her concern. The elderly and the children were in that building toward the top, completely defenseless. After taking down five or more Stühocs, Alric grabbed Nalani by the arm and nodded toward a separate entrance to the fortress at the ground level.
“Come on!”
There was no time to explain but he knew he couldn’t let her die like this out in the open. He yelled for Lorcan and Coffman, swinging his arm, telling them to follow him into the stronghold.
Emma saw this too and she grabbed Dink and followed behind the Erellen and the large man. The six of them slipped away from the fight, unnoticed. A few of them rested their heads against the stone wall of the dark room when they entered the bottom of the structure. Their labored breathing seemed so loud, yet the room remained eerily quiet compared to the bloodletting only feet from them.
Coffman stood wary with his sword pointed at the door, knowing that the enemy could come bursting through at any moment.
“Hiding in here won’t stop them from beating us,” Dink said to Emma.
“We’re not hiding,” Alric corrected. He wiped the sweat from his eyes and looked around at each individual. “Is everyone all right?”
Each of them nodded, saying nothing as they waited for Alric’s plan.
He stood in silence for a long moment, knowing that they had to catch their breath. He looked at Nalani and he knew she would never expect him to make good on his half-hearted promise to keep her and her family alive, but he intended to do just that.
“Stühocs have come into the stronghold,” he said. “I know it’s just a matter of time before they take it over completely, but there’s no one here to protect the older people and the children.”
Lorcan raised an eyebrow at this. “You’re worried about the children?” He looked at Coffman. “What do you want us to do?”
“Just follow me,” Alric said.
He moved past the others and to the door on the other side of the room. He opened it carefully with one hand, and with the other he gripped his sword tightly. He didn’t know how many Stühocs had gone into the fortress, but he knew there would be more to come.
He nodded to the others that the hall was clear, and they tiptoed into the passage.
“Does anyone know exactly where they’re hiding?” Alric asked.
“I know that many were placed in the council chamber,” Nalani said, “but I don’t think there is enough room. I imagine that some are out in the hallway too.”
Alric knew exactly where to go. Though he was not part of the council, or the Dunarians for that matter, he had been to many meetings over the past three months.
When he had been hired by the Dunarians to help get the white medallion from Timugo, he never thought he would be staying with them this long.
Inga had wanted to stay because of Silas. Lorcan stayed, probably because of Inga; and Coffman, because he had always wanted to be part of something that was noble and true.
Alric’s reason was the re
dheaded woman running next to him.
She had caught his eye before he and the others had left to help Silas save Kaden in Mudavé. Of course he had heard of her shaky courtship with Julian, but they soon had a falling out.
He had learned of her planned trip to Voelif, and one particular mission had placed him there before, so he knew a little about the area. He didn’t hesitate in offering up his services.
He found her entering his thoughts at the most random moments. When the two of them had stood in front of the Sphere in Voelif, all he could think was…
He glanced at her as the others jogged behind them.
Usually, his work was the only thing that consumed his mind this much, but thoughts of Nalani had replaced it.
The six of them climbed several flights of stairs until they finally came near the council chamber.
Nalani’s stepfather, Patrick, stood with a shaky weapon drawn.
“I’ll cut you bloody Stühocs to pieces!” he yelled.
“Father it’s me!”
“Nalani?” The man squinted in the darkness of the hallway. “What are you doing here?”
“The Stühocs have entered the stronghold,” she told him as they came near. “They might come here soon. Where are the others?”
“Most of them are locked in the chamber.” With his head he motioned down the hall behind him. “The others are hiding down that way.”
“And you thought you’d stay out here alone?” Alric asked. “I’m impressed.”
“Thank you, Sergeant,” Patrick smiled.
“I’m going to have to ask you to step into the chamber,” Alric ordered.
Patrick shook his head. “Sorry sir, the door is locked from the inside. I told them not to open it for anyone unless there was a knock with a specific pattern.”
“Well, what’s the pattern?”
Patrick stood for a moment. “I uh, I forgot to make one.”
“Well, I’m sure they’ll let you in,” Alric said as he moved to the door to knock.
“Stop!” Patrick said. “Please. I want to fight with you. I am a Dunarian as much as you.”
More than me.
“I think I deserve the right to defend my city!”
Alric looked at Nalani and she nodded.
There was no more time to discuss it. Patrick would fight with them, and that time would come soon. The sound of warring Stühocs had been outside before, but now they could hear the soldiers rushing through the stronghold. The grunting and screeches became louder as a warning that the Stühocs were coming straight for them.
Alric glanced at Patrick, then Nalani. He wasn’t so sure how long the chamber door would stay locked anyway. The Stühocs were there to destroy everyone.
*****
The battle below them raged like one Julian had never seen before. Eden flew invisibly under his legs and this provided the perfect view to see all that was happening in the city before they glided into the east tower.
He tried to see if any of his friends were still in the fight, but it was impossible to discern who was who.
When the three sarians landed inside the tower, the invisibility that covered them instantly lifted. Julian felt out of place in the sarian pen. As a Dunarian, Julian felt as though he had visited the enclosure more than any other member. Seeing it empty, for the rest were surely fighting to help their Human riders, felt odd to Julian.
Before he had been used by Holden, he had felt this place was welcoming. Now, he felt like an intruder.
He and Inga dismounted and moved to the door at the other end. Julian drew his sword and Inga readied herself for any enemy to come.
As they walked down the stairs, Julian couldn’t help but notice how dark the stone passageway seemed. Normally at this time of night, flaming torches all along the walls would light the hallways of Jekyll Rock. Now the bare rock was as black as the night.
The battle in the city below them remained a distant noise, adding to their feelings of separation from their overwhelmed allies.
They walked as noiselessly as possible through the winding corridors until Inga finally broke the silence.
“Thank you for what you did with Daewyn,” she said. “It really means a lot to me.”
“Believe it or not, I’m not here to kill off the Dunarians and their allies. Though, betraying Daewyn could come back to bite me in the future.” He looked at Inga from the side. “When this battle is all over, I want you to remember that I’m not the enemy.”
“I know you aren’t,” Inga said. “Can’t say the others think the same way. I can’t say you aren’t a fool. But you aren’t the enemy.”
He couldn’t argue with her. Julian had been a fool, but tonight he would redeem himself to the Dunarians. He would win this battle for them. He would win the war.
The only person he imagined would be unforgiving was Darius. The look of hatred the man had given him when Julian came to the realization that he had been wrong about the council members was haunting.
Kaden might forgive him. Nalani might forgive him. Wouldn’t she? Maybe when this war was finished he could win her back. Maybe she could love him again.
Before that could happen, he had to get to Marenon’s Map. He just hoped the others had been successful in getting the orange medallion to the pedestal.
Inga followed Julian closely. They could now hear both the battle raging outside and another confrontation inside somewhere. Julian guessed it came from near the council chamber. He noticed Inga’s worried look.
“The best way to help them is to get to the map,” he said.
They began to jog until they finally made it to the statue of King Harold. Julian bent down low and placed his hands on the statue’s feet.
“Shelinsa.”
The statue and door opened, allowing them to move forward. He reached a hand inside his cloak and felt for the medallions. One…two…three…four…five…
He was sure. This was the right thing to do.
He led the way down the stairs. The last time he had been here, he had taken the medallions from the Dunarians because he had thought the corrupted members would give them to the Stühocs. He had been wrong then, but he was not wrong now. If the orange medallion were there, he would have the weapon. Today would be the end of their troubles.
He shoved open the door and stormed into the comfortable living space of the underground bunker. To the right and left were various rooms. Past the center, however was a hall with one small door at the end.
At the door, Inga waited patiently behind him. He placed his fingers on the handle and held them their firmly.
“What if it’s not there?” Julian asked. “What if someone else still has the orange medallion?”
“You won’t find out by standing here,” she chided.
Julian took a deep breath and nodded. It was time.
He swung the door open. The room was as bare and cold as he had left it just a week before. That is, except for one item.
The orange medallion sat in the pedestal and its chain dangled over the side. Julian smiled stupidly, expressing his elation at this discovery. He reached inside his cloak and pulled out five medallions that were individually wrapped in silk pouches.
“What are we supposed to do?” Inga asked.
Julian’s mind was too preoccupied to comprehend her question.
He let the medallions dangle from his fingers by their thin chains as he stepped in front of the pedestal. When he came close, the top right corner of the map illuminated, revealing a night view of Voelif and the surrounding land.
He grabbed the red medallion and placed it in its designated slot, causing the map to show the midnight-shadowed Reemlock Mountains surrounding Mudavé.
His hands trembled with anticipation. He didn’t even notice Inga’s open-mouthed stare as she silently cherished the display of magic happening before them.
He placed the white medallion in its slot to reveal the land surrounding Timugo. Farlaweer came next with the purple medallio
n. The green showed the Erellen territory. The two of them could see each region, every square inch of Marenon. The thought overwhelmed them both.
Julian held the blue medallion in front of his face, not knowing what might happen when he placed the final one into the slot. He turned his head to Inga.
“You might want to step away.”
She did as he suggested and set her back against the wall behind them nearest the door.
Julian gripped the pedestal with his right hand, and with his left he set the blue medallion into the sixth and final slot. The last piece of the map’s puzzle was in place. All of Marenon was visible to them.
He waited for the power to flow through him, the energy to burst forth, but nothing happened.
“Why isn’t it working?” he said angrily. “What am I supposed to do?”
With frustration, he gripped both sides of the pedestal.
It was as if a silent explosion went off right in front of his face. He felt himself floating high above Marenon, and could see any part of it that he wanted. The entire landscape sat quietly, hundreds of feet below him.
What he felt was very similar to the sensation he had when he had explored the memory orb. He could almost feel his body standing in front of the pedestal below Jekyll Rock, but in his mind he was outside, exposed to the world below him, though he was sure no one could see him.
What do I do?
He knew he had to get to the battle, but how?
Before he could finish the thought, he found himself floating above Jekyll Rock. Thousands of Dunarian soldiers fought to keep their lives, while many thousands more of their enemies waited outside of the city walls to take their turn against them.
Julian had failed to plan for this moment. He had often thought about using Marenon’s Map as a weapon, but now he wasn’t sure what to do.
What would make fighting more difficult? He racked his brain for inspiration then…Rain.
The very thought of it brought clouds to the sky within moments and then came the torrential downpour.
Some of the soldiers seemed distracted by the unexpected drenching, but the fighting continued without being hindered.
The Marenon Chronicles Collection Page 66