Only the two original arms remained, and now the shadow knight held a pitch-black mace. Yureel, already more than twice the height of his brother, raised the sorcerous weapon high. He moved as if fully revitalized.
"I've enjoyed our game so very much, my brother!" the murky titan bellowed. "But now the game ends, Darkhorse . . ."
Chapter Twenty
Yssa propped her father against the tree. Her guilt at leaving Darkhorse and Aurim behind had been countered by the Dragon King's serious condition. She hoped that she had the time and power left to stabilize him before it was too late.
Darkhorse Aurim . . . forgive me for not being there to help you.
She already knew that healing the drake's hand was beyond the scope of her capabilities. Had it occurred because of a normal fire, she might have been able to repair it. Unfortunately, the potent energy wielded by Yureel had caused the damage and true to the monster's parasitic nature, it continued to ravage the limb even now. As much as she hated to think it, the enchantress knew that a good part of the arm would have to be removed in order to save her father. Taking a deep breath, Yssa knelt on the grass and prepared herself for the inevitable.
A shadow fell across her.
"You hurt my Lanith, you little hedge witch!" A strong blow against Yssa's cheek sent the blond woman falling against her patient. Through teary eyes she looked up at her attacker.
"I think I'll give him your head asss a presssent," Saress hissed, expression anything but human. "After I'm through with it . . ."
General Belfour noticed the two sorcerers first, then the weary form between them. His brow, already furrowed in worry from the way the battle had suddenly turned, formed deeper valleys when he recognized the somewhat bedraggled figure. The general turned the reins of battle over to his second in command, then urged his mount toward the newcomers.
"Your Majesty!" Lanith's eyes flashed open at the sound of his voice, searching the area around him as if expecting something. Belfour, who had seen that look before, nearly clamped his mouth shut, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Your Majesty, what happened to you?"
The monarch looked down at the wound near his shoulder. Belfour had never seen a wound so—blue—but when he started to repeat his question, King Lanith cut him off with a wave of his hand.
"Your Highness," one of the sorcerers began, trying desperately to keep the wound covered at the same time. "We've only just begun. Neither of us is as powerful as Saress—"
"Saress . . ." Lanith looked up at his general. His tone seemed almost clinical. "She's a half-breed, drake abomination, Belfour. Kill her when she returns."
While removing the influence of the enchantress from his king had always been high on the veteran warrior's list of goals, the revelation of her origins nearly left him speechless. "A . . . drake, my lord?"
Lanith ignored him, eyes on Belfour's mount. "Give me your horse, General." He reached out to touch the bow and quiver hanging on the saddle. "Leave everything."
"My horse?" Meridian had been the warrior's favored battle mount for years, trained to obey a variety of signals and defend his master at all costs. There were times when he was fonder of the animal than he was some of his family.
"Your horse, General."
"Majesty, your wounds—" the same spellcaster began, cutting off Belfour before he could lodge a protest.
With speed that belied his injuries, Lanith drew a knife from his belt and thrust the blade into the sorcerer's stomach. Gasping, the man collapsed as his life quickly fled. The lord of Zuu pulled the blade free, wiping it off on the dead man's robes, then glanced at the remaining spellcaster. The other mage blanched, then scurried off in full panic.
"Worthless trash. When this is over, I'll rebuild the Order anew." The king stared at Belfour, who immediately dismounted and handed the reins to him. Lanith climbed up and, without another word, rode off.
The general watched Lanith vanish into the distance, then belatedly noticed that something was happening far ahead of the king. It seemed to be some sort of panic, as if they did not have enough trouble with the chaos spreading from the middle of their lines. The entire tenor of the war had shifted, just as General Belfour had feared from the start. Deep inside, he had known that this entire campaign had been madness, but as an officer of Zuu, he had been bound by his post to obey his monarch.
What would happen now, when it could no longer be denied that the king had not only led them to ruin but was insane as well?
Frowning at his own thoughts on the subject, the aging warrior quickly began searching for a new mount.
The mace struck the ground, causing tremors and opening a crevice wide enough to swallow a man. Sorcerous energy from the monstrous weapon scattered over the area, most of it in the direction of Darkhorse and his companion.
Yureel obviously did not care that they had moved closer to the battle. If some of Lanith's warriors were too slow-witted to get out of his way, he simply crushed them. All the gargantuan shadow desired was the destruction of his foes. He gave them no time to think, striking again and again without pause. The pair could do nothing but back away and defend.
This is madness! Darkhorse knew that at the rate they were retreating, he and Aurim would very soon be in the midst of the Zuu army. Already Yureel had scattered several riders, killing two in the process, and while that benefited the Green Dragon's defenders, it did nothing for the shadow steed. It was not that the link between Darkhorse and his human friend had grown any weaker, just that Yureel's vicious, rapid attacks kept the eternal and his companion at constant bay. Worse, the memories of his imprisonment in Zuu and the fate he had nearly suffered there had begun to return each time Yureel neared him. Yureel had almost swallowed him and still would again if given the opportunity. The deaths of the sorcerers had reminded him too much of the probability of that. Try as he might, the shadowy stallion could not forget.
"Darkhorse! We have to take the offensive!"
He heard Aurim and agreed with him, but the mace, as much a part of Yureel as the hand that wielded it, crashed into the ground only a few yards away. Darkhorse felt a slight pull from it, as if it sought to draw him into it. He knew then that if Yureel struck him even lightly, he would be absorbed.
The shadow knight giggled again, icy blue eyes bright beneath the helm. "You were always the lesser of the two of us, my brother, my self! Let me end your miserable existence so that you can live on in my own glory! I'll even preserve a little place in my story for you, Aurim Bedlam, perhaps a little tale of a boy who sought but never found his full potential . . ."
The mace came down again. Darkhorse moved almost too late. Yureel missed him by less than a yard, but energy released by the strike threw stallion and rider several feet into the air. Aurim slipped from the shadow steed's back, falling some distance away.
"I'm tempted to take you first as you've slipped from me far too many times, brother, but I think I'll start with your little mage friend first as an appetizer and savor you as the main dish! Since you two are linked, I know you'll fully enjoy his agony."
Yureel kept the mace pointed toward Darkhorse as he reached for Aurim. Darkhorse eyed the ebony weapon, then Cabe's son.
Rearing, he charged the huge figure. Yureel reacted, but too slowly. Darkhorse ducked below the mace, not that he would have cared at this moment if it had hit him. All he intended to do was grant the sorcerer time to escape. Even with the power bequeathed to him from the Barren Lands, Darkhorse knew that Yureel had the advantage. The shadow steed's own deeply rooted fear, a fear as great as that which Aurim had suffered earlier, worked against him. He did not want to be engulfed by Yureel.
The shadow knight fell back as they collided, but recovered quickly. Seizing Darkhorse by the throat, he shook the shadow steed hard. "So eager to rejoin me as all that? Very well, I'll be happy to grant your desire."
Darkhorse! The link! Our power together, remember?
Aurim's words made perfect sense, mirroring as they did
his own earlier ones, but for some reason he could not take them to heart. This was YureeL Darkhorse of all creatures knew his twin best. Yureel had been first. Yureel had always been stronger.
You said that together we could beat him, Aurim reminded him, sounding more like Cabe Bedlam. Together. One. Aurim—
Let me take over. I'll do it. You said I could.
He felt Aurim take control of the link between them. The shadow steed wanted to warn him about the dangers, but to his surprise, the human manipulated it as if he had done so all his life.
With a shriek, Yureel dropped him. Darkhorse fell to his knees, then stared up at his twin. The shadow knight held his head in his hands and howled. His form became less defined and he seemed to shrivel a bit.
Aurim Bedlam, eyes closed and back straight, pointed one hand at their adversary. His control of their combined might was flawless; Darkhorse could not have done better. Yureel had only himself to blame; in the process of utilizing the lad as a pawn, he had shown Aurim what he could do. The boy remembered everything, it seemed.
We're still not one, Darkhorse. You've got to join me completely in order to let this work
The student had to remind the teacher of his own lesson. Another time Darkhorse would have laughed. Now he could only hope that he would be able to give Aurim what the sorcerer needed.
He opened himself up, giving all that he could to the effort. As if struck, Yureel fell to one knee. He was only vaguely humanoid now and much smaller than he had been a moment before. The shadow man finally tore his hands away from his head and tried to reach for his attackers. However, he moved as if the very air around him had solidified. Yureel managed one step closer, but the effort caused him to shrink more.
Through their connection, Darkhorse knew what Aurim planned. It was justice of a sort, the same kind of trap Yureel himself had had the sorcerers set in Adderly. The pressure on each side of Yureel increased tenfold, pushing him into a smaller and smaller place. Like Yssa, Aurim had built a cage; but unlike the enchantress, he had the power and skill to make it inescapable.
It was in your mind, Darkhorse. I hope it was all right to use it.
Darkhorse said nothing, allowing Aurim to control the situation. All that mattered was finishing with Yureel, and the spellcaster seemed to know exactly what had to be done.
Yureel abruptly shrank to a foot tall, trying, perhaps to escape the trap through some sort of trickery. Aurim matched him immediately, though, giving the monster no extra room in which to move. He did not want Yureel coming back to plague them again.
"Don't send me back!" the tiny figure suddenly cried, the icy eyes wide and pleading. All trace of the fearsome monster had vanished. Yureel sounded like a frightened child. "Destroy me, but don't send me back!"
For the first time, Darkhorse sensed Aurim falter. If they exiled him, they could never be certain that Yureel might not return. On the other hand, the shadow steed knew that Aurim had been sickened by all those his sorcery had injured or killed in the name of the king of Zuu, even if he had not truly been responsible. Even destroying Yureel might prove too much for the lad's mental state.
"Darkhorse, what should I do? I don't think I can kill him!"
The shadow steed himself did not know how to answer. To be rid forever of the fear of Yureel had always been his dream, but to dispose of him in a manner so . . . so . . . much like what his twin himself might have chosen . . . did not sit well with Darkhorse either.
"I know a place," he finally said "a place far, far away from which I doubt even Yureel can escape . . . especially if we work together to fashion this cage into one stronger than the last."
Aurim stared at the imprisoned figure. "I wanted to . . . after all he's made me do . . . after all those whose deaths he caused. . . I wanted to make him suffer for all of them . . . but I can't."
Recalling his own fears of eternal imprisonment in the box, Darkhorse replied, "He will suffer, Aurim. Sending him to exile in his cage will be a far more effective punishment."
"You can't, you can't, you can't!" Yureel roared. "Don't send me away! I was so lonely! I couldn't bear it again, Darkhorse!"
"You will have to bear it, Yureel! For all that you are responsible for, you will just have to bear it. After all, you really have no choice, do you?"
The tiny figure's eyes dulled. All the fight appeared to have drained out of Yureel now that he was a helpless prisoner. "No choice. Yes, my dear brother, my self. I've no choice . . ."
Ice-blue eyes met ice-blue eyes.
Yureel began to swell.
"Aurim!" Darkhorse flung himself between the sorcerer and the cage.
The cage held the forces unleashed by the shadow puppet for only a breath, maybe two. Not even the combined might of Aurim Bedlam and Darkhorse could contain it any longer. The burst of energy rose ten, twenty, even thirty feet into the sky and even farther along the ground. Raw power raged over the shadow steed, who now completely covered his human friend.
Darkhorse was on fire, but he did what he could to protect Aurim, if not himself. The agony became so great that the eternal screamed loud and long. Still the murderous wave washed over him, threatening more and more to tear him apart.
At last, the level of pain decreased. Darkhorse shivered, astonished—no, unable to believe—that he still lived. He remained where he was until the last vestiges of the terrible assault had faded, then, with each movement still agony, the shadow steed slipped off of Aurirn.
Despite the protection Darkhorse had given to his companion, he saw that the spellcaster, too, had suffered. Deathly white, Aurim could not even rise at first. Only after several anxious minutes did he manage to sit up.
"What . . . what happened?" Color began to seep back into the human's face.
Still in the process of refining his form, Darkhorse indicated the ravaged area where the cage had stood. A gaping, blackened hole marked it. The words came harder than Dark- horse would have imagined. It was not as if any thing related to the notion of love had ever existed between the ebony stallion and his darker half. "Yureel could not stand the thought of returning to exile."
The battered Triage paled again. "Do you mean that he destroyed himself?"
"It was that or face a fate he feared more." Darkhorse snorted. "I had not thought he feared exile so much, even knowing how terrifying it was to him. I did not know he would choose this last path until I saw the death in his eyes."
Aurim buried his head in his hands. "I killed him. In the end, I killed him after all."
"No! Yureel's end was his own doing and one that should not be wept over! Too many died for his madness for you to even consider taking some blame! You tried to be humane; Yureel did not even know the word existed." Darkhorse glanced again at the devastated area. "Do not pity him, Aurim. If there was ever one creature not deserving of pity, it was Yureel."
The sorcerer looked at him, finally shaking his head. "I think that no matter what he was and what he did, I'm going to pity him a little, Darkhorse. I didn't know he hated imprisonment so much he would do this."
Too weary to argue, the eternal simply shook his head. He would never completely understand humans.
A hissing sound made the shadow steed stiffen.
Aurim cried out. A long shaft was buried in his thigh. Darkhorse looked for the source, wondering who had recklessly chosen to remain behind when all the other warriors had fled from the vicinity of the deadly duel. He saw in the distance the lone figure of King Lanith, mounted, preparing another arrow. Even without attempting a probe the shadow steed knew that the arrows were all enchanted. They were the same bolts used to penetrate the hides of dragons and magical shields. The sorcerer was fortunate that it had not completely pierced his leg.
"I'm all . . . right . . . Darkhorse," Aurim Bedlam called through clenched teeth. "I can deal with the arrow. I can."
Gratified by the news, the shadow steed refocused on the would-be assassin. Fury at the human's continued audacity fueled Darkhorse to renewed
effort. Lanith might have been a pawn in many ways to Yureel, but he was hardly without guilt in matters. Yureel would not have chosen him otherwise. The blame for much of the destruction and death that had occurred and would have occurred lay at the feet of the horse king.
Darkhorse reared, daring Lanith to try for him. He doubted that the enchanted arrow would harm him, but even if it did, it would not be sufficient to keep him from stripping the human from his mount.
The horse king aimed, his target Darkhorse's head. Another breath or two and the shadow steed would find out exactly how deadly the arrow could be.
Lanith jerked straight in the saddle. His arrow shot harmless into the air, landing far to the warrior's right. The king dropped the bow and gripped his mount's mane. He weaved back and forth, glaring at the shadow steed, who was mere moments from reaching him.
King Lanith, ruler of Zuu, the horse king, tumbled to the ground, an arrow in his back.
Slowing to a trot, Darkhorse approached the sprawled figure. As he did, he noted a second rider approaching from behind the horse king; General Belfour. A sword hung from the man's side and he wore a bow looped around his shoulder, but the veteran warrior's hands were empty.
"That will be close enough, General," the shadow steed called when Belfour had come within a few yards of his king. "I intend no trouble, Darkhorse." Belfour showed him open palms. "I only came in search of my liege." The warrior peered down at the limp form. Blood pooled beneath the king's body; Lanith was clearly dead. "A perfect strike. I warned him that he shouldn't count on that magic shield around him. Sooner or later, it would fail him. The Dragon King has many fine archers and we're certainly near enough to the lines to be in danger." He shook his head. "I did warn him."
"Against normal weapons his shield might have held, General, but both wounds he received were from ensorcelled shafts." The eternal probed the arrow. Not only had it been enchanted, but he was fairly certain that the Magical Order had done the enchanting.
Legends of the Dragonrealm: Volume 04 Page 69