“What…what are we going to do?” said Timon, his fear obvious.
“The power of Incariel shall let us defeat them,” said Septimus, shadows swirling around his hands.
“Against the Swordbearers?” said Verus. “The greater part of the Order of the Soulblade will have gathered for this assault, and their damned swords are proof against the shadow of Incariel. No. We shall have to send the full host to break them. Leave the kobolds and the deep orc vermin to their fate. Blood and steel shall win this day.”
Tarrabus doubted that. He knew firsthand the deadly skill and power of the Swordbearers in battle, and even a novice Knight of the Order of the Soulblade was dangerous. And the orcs of the baptized kingdoms were maddened berserkers, contemptuous of injury and death and near-fearless. In the enclosed space of the camp, they would slaughter Tarrabus’s troops in droves. His army would wear down the Swordbearers and the orcs in the end, but by then, either the enemy horsemen would come through the breach that Tarrabus had blasted into his own wall or the rest of Arandar’s army would storm into the camp.
Tarrabus and his army would be trapped, and the enemy could slaughter them at will.
“No,” said Tarrabus. “No, if we stay here we shall be trapped. Send some men to slow the Swordbearers and their orcish friends. The bulk of the army shall hasten through the breach to deal with Arandar. Once he has been defeated, we can turn and defeat the Swordbearers.”
“That is a very risky plan,” said Timon. “We…”
“You will be silent and obey my commands!” shouted Tarrabus. “March! We must attack at once!”
The Duxi stared at him for a moment, and then nodded and turned to their own household knights.
Tarrabus ground his teeth with fury and impatience as his army started through the breach. Arandar and the Keeper might have launched a bold attack, but he would have the last laugh. He would break Arandar’s army, and then he would trap the Swordbearers within the damaged camp and finish them off.
He would kill Arandar and Calliande and Ridmark, but Tarrabus almost wished he could take them alive.
He would dearly enjoy repaying them for all the difficulties they had caused him.
###
Soulbreaker’s armored shape blurred towards Calliande, bleeding shadows in its speed, and Calliande cast a spell. White fire leaped from her staff to blast the creature, and Soulbreaker rocked back for a split second. In that split second, spells from half a dozen Magistri struck the Deep Walker, and the Swordbearers rushed to close with the panther-creature. For a wild instant, Calliande was sure the sheer power of their defense had overwhelmed the Deep Walker.
Then Soulbreaker struck back.
She moved with incredible speed, and the slash of her paws left two halves of a young Swordbearer bleeding upon the ground. The swords of the other Swordbearers bit into Soulbreaker’s flanks but proved unable to penetrate the black armor. Soulbreaker twisted, knocked another Swordbearer to the ground, and leaped through the gap.
She landed four yards in front of Calliande, tensed to spring yet again.
Calliande had already flung the white fire of the Well into Soulbreaker, mixed with the power of the Keeper’s mantle, and it had done little to stop the creature. She had time to cast just one spell before the Deep Walker sprang, and Calliande reached not for the magic of the Well, but for the power of the earth.
It was a far weaker version of the spell she had just used to breach the wall, and the ground folded and rippled. The ripple passed beneath Soulbreaker’s paws, and the bulky creature stumbled, her footing lost.
At that moment, the Swordbearers closed around her once more. Constantine drove Brightherald into Soulbreaker’s left side, the soulblade sinking to the hilt through the thick armor. Gavin leaped upon Soulbreaker’s back, Truthseeker raised high, and brought the soulblade hammering down. The blade landed between Soulbreaker’s shoulder blades and drove towards her neck, and for a moment Calliande was sure that the battle was over.
Yet Soulbreaker jerked back, ripping free of Constantine’s blade and knocking Gavin away. Both Swordbearers hit the ground, and Calliande cast another spell, hitting Soulbreaker with a burst of white fire as the Magistri flung more of their own spells into the creature. The Deep Walker leaped back twenty yards in a single bound, shadows pouring from her as she did, and the shadows solidified and grew, hardening into copies of herself.
Now instead of one giant panther-creature, they faced seven.
The Swordbearers gathered before Calliande, shields and soulblades raised, and the Magistri began another set of spells. Calliande held her own power ready, wondering if she could dispel the shadow-panthers. During their previous battle, Soulbreaker’s shadow-copies had been less resilient than the Deep Walker herself, but they had still been dangerous.
Soulbreaker threw back her head and shrieked, and her body ripped itself apart in a spray of blood and torn meat, forcing itself into a new shape.
Into a far larger shape.
A black dragon leaped into the sky, fire lancing towards Calliande, and the shadow-panthers charged. Calliande cast a warding spell, and Soulbreaker’s fire shattered against the dome of white light. The dragon swooped overhead, turning for another pass, while the Swordbearers charged into the shadow-panthers. Their soulblades slashed and tore at the strange creatures, but the shadows seemed able to regenerate themselves.
Soulbreaker dove again, fire glimmering behind her fangs, and Calliande fought for her life.
Chapter 18: An Ancient Sword
Kobold warriors were good at ambushes and raids, but they were far less skilled at fighting horsemen.
Ridmark’s mount trampled through a mob of kobolds, crushing them beneath its steel-shod hooves. Ridmark caught a blow on a kite shield he had taken from a dead horseman and stabbed with a scavenged spear. The weapon punched through the kobold’s chest and drove the creature to the ground, and Ridmark ripped the weapon free and struck again, killing another kobold. His horse rode on, and Ridmark steered the beast with his knees as he had been taught long ago.
It had been a while since he had ridden a horse into battle, but the reflexes had not left him.
He spun his horse around once more and charged again, trampling another kobold and spearing a second. The rest of the creatures had had enough, and they turned and fled, chittering to each other as they ran.
Ridmark slowed his horse and looked for another foe.
There was no shortage from which to choose.
Several thousand deep orcs and kobold skirmishers had issued from the breach to charge at Prince Cadwall’s horsemen. Like the kobolds, the deep orcs were skirmishers, accustomed to fighting from ambush in the gloomy tunnels of the Deeps, and they were wasted against knights and heavy cavalry. They had been repulsed with little difficulty, and soon fled in all directions.
The troops that issued from the walls next would have been a problem. Tarrabus’s infantry poured out of the breach, men-at-arms in heavy armor and militiamen with spears and bows, forming themselves up into proper battle array as they prepared to attack. Tarrabus’s horsemen came next, knights and mounted men-at-arms both, and the attack of the kobolds and the deep orcs gave the usurper’s army time to form itself into battle lines. Had they been left uninterrupted, they could have driven Prince Cadwall’s horsemen from the field.
Fortunately, they were not left uninterrupted.
Arandar’s infantry marched south along the siege wall. For a moment, Ridmark wondered if Arandar and Calliande had abandoned their plan to breach the walls, but he saw no sign of the Swordbearers nor the orcs among the advancing soldiers. Arandar must have decided to send the Swordbearers and the orcish warriors into the breach while dispatching the infantry to aid Prince Cadwall. Tarrabus’s army had no choice but to turn and face the newcomers.
Tarrabus had prepared an ambush here, and Arandar had hoped to storm Tarrabus’s camp. Neither the usurper nor the Prince Regent had planned to fight a full battle here, but it
looked like a battle was going to happen anyway.
Ridmark spotted Prince Cadwall’s green dragon banner flying over a band of horsemen, the knights and men-at-arms forming up around him. The Prince would have to ride to the aid of the infantry, lest Tarrabus and his knights overwhelm them. That seemed like as good a place as any to go, so Ridmark turned his horse in that direction. He had been separated from his companions in the furious melee of the fight, and perhaps he could find them at the Prince’s banner…
“Gray Knight!”
It was Antenora’s voice, harsh and tight with alarm.
He saw Antenora riding towards him, Third at her side, Camorak, Caius, and Kharlacht galloping after them. Antenora reined up, and Camorak dropped from his saddle with a grimace and started casting spells, healing the light wounds that Kharlacht and Caius had taken during the fight. Ridmark blinked, and then felt the sting of a half-dozen minor cuts on his arms and legs. He had barely even noticed in the chaos.
“The Keeper is in danger, Gray Knight,” said Antenora. “We must ride to her at once.”
“What kind of danger?” said Ridmark. Had the Sight warned Antenora?
“Look!” said Antenora, pointing her staff to the northwest.
Ridmark saw the damaged earthwork walls, the ramparts and towers of Tarlion, the clouds of dust thrown up by the marching troops…and then he saw a winged black shadow and a flare of fire.
A dragon.
Soulbreaker had returned.
“We must ride to her aid,” said Antenora, and Ridmark nodded.
“It will take time, though,” said Caius.
There was no way Ridmark would let Calliande fight the Deep Walker alone, not even with a dozen Swordbearers and a dozen Magistri at her side. Nevertheless, Caius was right. Ridmark would have to ride around the opposing armies, which would take him nearly a mile out of his way, and fight through any remaining bands of kobolds or deep orcs…
“Wait!” said Third. “There may be another way to aid the Keeper.”
“What do you mean?” said Kharlacht.
“The bulk of Tarrabus’s forces have abandoned his camp,” said Third, “and it will fall under the control of the Swordbearers and the orcs soon.”
“What of that?” said Kharlacht.
The answer came to Ridmark. “The circle of blood and shadow that Third saw.”
“That is the binding spell that Tarrabus or Imaria or one of the other Enlightened put upon Soulbreaker,” said Third. “If we break that, we can undo the binding upon the Deep Walker. It might well banish her from her stolen physical form. At the very least, it will weaken her considerably.”
Ridmark looked towards the siege wall. Tarrabus’s forces had been blocking the breach they had opened, but the knights and footmen had shifted away from the walls as they maneuvered to face Arandar’s infantry. For the moment, the breach in the walls was unguarded.
“Third,” said Ridmark, glancing towards the green dragon banner. “Tell Prince Cadwall what we are doing, quickly. Do not wait for an answer.”
Third nodded, jumped from her saddle, and vanished into blue fire.
“Better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission?” said Caius.
“Odd thing for a friar to say,” muttered Camorak, casting the healing spell over Ridmark. Icy cold swept through him, and bit by bit his cuts vanished.
“Thank you,” said Ridmark. “And if this will save the Keeper’s life, I will act first and ask permission after the fact.”
Third reappeared in a burst of blue fire, staggered, and hauled herself back into the saddle of her confused horse. “It is done. I said we were going to aid the Keeper, and Prince Cadwall agreed.”
“He doesn’t need us to command a battle,” said Ridmark. “Go!”
He dug his heels into his horse and galloped forward, the others following him.
###
Arandar fought for his life, Heartwarden blazing in his fist.
He ought to have been with his men, leading the attack against Tarrabus’s forces. Yet he could not break away from the combat with the shadow-panthers, and perhaps it was just as well. If Calliande was killed, they might lose the battle against Tarrabus, and they would almost certainly lose the war against the Frostborn. The Keeper had to be defended.
Unfortunately, that seemed increasingly unlikely.
The dragon swooped back and forth, breathing fire on Calliande in searing lances. Again and again, the Keeper cast wards around herself, striking back at Soulbreaker with blasts of white fire, but the spells did little against the creature. Calliande had to force it to the ground so the Swordbearers would use their swords, but the Knights of the Soulblade were otherwise preoccupied.
For Soulbreaker had no shortage of living shadows.
Every time that the Swordbearers cut down one of the panther-shaped shadow creatures, another one rose from the earth as Soulbreaker flew overhead. Arandar had cut down three of the things after his horse had been killed, but more rose from the ground. He saw that the wisps of shadow were falling from Soulbreaker and landing on the earth, swelling into more shadow-creatures.
The Swordbearers were fierce fighters and their soulblades potent, and the Magistri could heal any wounds that the Knights of the Soulblade took. Yet five Swordbearers had already fallen to the panther-shadows, some of them seasoned veterans, and step by step they were being forced into a defensive ring around Calliande and the Magistri.
Arandar could guess Soulbreaker’s plan easily enough. The dragon would fly overhead, hammering at Calliande with her fire, while the shadow-creatures killed her protectors one by one. When all the Swordbearers were dead, Soulbreaker would land and kill the Keeper.
Arandar could not let that happen. They had to find a way to force Soulbreaker within reach of the powerful soulblades.
Unfortunately, he could spare no time for thought, and every scrap of his effort and strength went to keeping himself alive.
He fought alongside Sir Constantine and Sir Gavin, their soulblades rising and falling. They had fought together on the walls of Dun Licinia and during the long, grim retreat to Dun Calpurnia, and they knew how to fight as a team. Gavin raised his shield, catching the raking claws of a shadow-panther, and Constantine struck, ripping Brightherald through the shadow’s flank. The creature reeled back, jaws yawning wide in a soundless scream, and Arandar attacked. Heartwarden split the creature’s head in twain, and it dissolved like mist in the wind, the shadow unraveling into nothing.
Yet another creature rose from the earth, taking shape from the wisps of shadow, and Arandar fought to hold it back as Calliande and Soulbreaker struggled behind him.
###
Ridmark galloped through the breach in the contravallation wall and into the siege camp of Tarrabus Carhaine.
The first thing he noticed was the smell.
Crowding together tens of thousands of men, orcs, and kobolds into a confined space was an invitation to disease, and to judge from the odor, the army had experienced trouble disposing of its waste. The tents crowding the walls and filling the space between them had a threadbare, dilapidated look, and everywhere Ridmark looked he saw signs of disrepair and indifference.
Tarrabus’s army had come to the very end of its endurance, and the false king had risked everything in one final roll of the dice. If Tarrabus was defeated today, he was finished.
But if Tarrabus won the battle raging outside the damaged earthwork walls, then he would win everything.
At the moment, the camp looked deserted, though a few men-at-arms stood near the tents, mostly the old and the wounded. Ridmark charged at them, and the men threw down their weapons and fled.
“Doesn’t look like they have much fight left in them,” said Camorak as the men ran to escape through the breaches.
“No,” said Ridmark. “I think Tarrabus’s entire host is at the end of its strength. If we can kill or capture him…”
He pushed aside the thought. Right now, he needed to help Calliande. Once
she was safe from Soulbreaker, he could figure out a way to deal with Tarrabus.
Ridmark beckoned to the others, and they galloped through Tarrabus’s camp, circling northwest along the line of the circumvallation wall. Everywhere Ridmark looked he saw signs of an army on the verge of collapse, with dilapidated equipment, overflowing midden heaps, and tents pitched in disarray. The sounds of battle grew louder, and then another melee came into sight.
A large mob of men-at-arms in the colors of Tarrabus Carhaine and Septimus Andrius fell back step by step, and beyond them, Ridmark glimpsed the orcish warriors in their fury and the flashing white light of soulblades. The Swordbearers and the orcish kings were forcing their way forward. It seemed that Tarrabus had split off part of his infantry to hold the Swordbearers and the orcs at bay while he attacked the rest of Arandar’s army, but the Swordbearers and the orcish warriors would soon break through.
But until then, they blocked the way to the circle of blood and shadow that bound Soulbreaker.
Ridmark reined up, looked around and pointed to the west. “We’ll take the ramparts of the circumvallation wall.” The circumvallation wall was far better constructed than the contravallation wall, likely because the dvargir had been able to take their time. The circumvallation wall’s ramparts were wide, with ladders leading to them at regular intervals. “Leave the horses here, and we’ll run. Go!”
They dismounted and ran to the nearest ladder, scrambling to the ramparts. Ridmark tossed aside his scavenged shield and spear and drew his staff, holding the weapon ready. They ran along the ramparts, passing through the watchtowers one after another as they left the melee behind. Ridmark watched for any of Tarrabus’s men, but it seemed they had all abandoned the camp, either joining the fight or fleeing for their lives.
The breach in the wall that Calliande had made came into sight, and Ridmark saw the circle of blood and shadow lying before a large blue pavilion.
“God and the saints,” muttered Caius.
Frostborn: Excalibur (Frostborn #13) Page 24