Orgog, they couldn’t let it regain its feet. They stabbed down at the beast until it finally stopped moving. Rob tried to help his father who was lying nearby, but when he jumped to the ground and turned him over, Robert Tenrell was already dead. Somehow the Orgog had reached him with a flailing claw before it had died.
Wordlessly, Rob remounted and with a terrible fury renewed the attack.
Coran rode up, the beneficiary of one of the few horses brought by the Northmen, and saw the field of battle for the first time. Men were everywhere, fighting and dying. It was a terrible scene to witness. The Northmen to either side of him watched the same scene with a different reaction. Their faces shown with a growing anticipation. There were other things going on as well. The winds were blowing in from the east, and occasionally lightning would appear and strike an area of the field, sending a blast of snow and bodies into the air.
Tenobius came up beside him. “That is my task,” he announced reading his mind.
Coran looked around for Petrin Venn, and found him off to one side. “Will he help you?” Coran asked the First Wizard.
“Not in this,” Tenobius replied without further explanation.
Mance rode over to join him. There were a few hundred of his men mounted and waiting to the east, beyond the Northmen. More men of Holdon were on foot. “I am leading my men around to the east side,” he announced. “Where are you headed?”
“There,” Coran said and pointed to the very center of the flesh fueled conflagration where the banner of Summerhall still waved proudly.
The enemy was closing in. The Knights could no longer keep them away. Katelyn lifted the banner and with all her strength, thrust it into the snow covered earth. She let go and it stayed upright, mostly. It leaned slightly to one side but did not fall. Brandishing her sword she gave what help she could by striking into the gaps between Knights. Her reach was not as long as the others, but she did what she could. She slashed at an arm here and separated it from its hand. There she struck again at an easterner’s eyes.
Martin was always darting about ready to protect her back, her sides, and her front. His horse whirled about at the slightest touch to reins or knees. Wherever danger threatened his Queen he was there. Dents decorated the surface of his armor and he had a cut on his face below the right eye.
The next threat proved a true test of his skill. One of the Orgog broke through the ring of steel. Martin and Renly hacked at the beast with little effect. A blow that would have cut a man in half was only a slight wound to that creature. The beast carried a long club with steel spikes at the end which he swung in a wide arc. The weapon penetrated the breastplate of one of the Knights with a steely crunch. The club withdrew and the poor Knight fell to the snow with gaping holes in his armor and flesh.
Martin and Renly darted in to attack again. Katelyn could only watch as the two warriors swung quick blows then dodged out of reach of that wicked weapon. With her short sword and no armor it would have been suicide for her to attack. A glancing blow to the helm knocked Martin from his saddle. The frothing beast turned on Renly and raised its club to deliver a killing blow.
Elthzidor felt his anger rise as the Maji lost control of the winds. From the top of the tower he could just make out the source of the newest resistance. On the slope of the hill to the northwest, among the trees, stood the white robed form of Tenobius. That man should not be here. None of them should be here.
He was about to act when he spotted a contingent of Midians charging the base of the tower. Focusing his anger he lashed out with his power. The ground erupted beneath their feet in a spray of snow and dirt. It settled quickly to reveal the scattered bodies of the Midians.
He looked back towards the northwest. It was time to show them all the true power of Naturus. Elthzidor raised his hands to the cloud covered sky. He felt the power build inside him and moved his hands in a circle. The clouds darkened and started to swirl following the movement of his hands.
Shirri leaned over the man on the litter that was being carried by two men who came from the volunteer’s camp. There was a knot on his head and some blood was running from his nose. “He should be all right in a few days. Take him to the camp,” she told the men. They hurried away with their burden. She straightened and looked out over the battlefield. Most of the fighting had moved to the far side of the field with the arrival of the Northmen. That meant that Coran had to be out there somewhere.
She was not supposed to be here on the road so close to the fighting, but if she waited for all the wounded to come across the river many would die before they made it. Other healers were now coming from the protection of the defenses and moving down the hill towards the thousands lying in the snow. Brown garbed commoners were running down as well and several were already bringing more wounded back up.
One armored man in green was leaning on another as they struggled up the hill. She recognized Devon as the wounded one. She hurried over to him. “Lay him down,” she ordered and the helper, who was also from Anders by his green shirt, complied. Shirri knelt down and examined Devon’s leg. “Any other injuries?”
“No,” he replied with clenched teeth. “Only one mistake for today.”
“If it was a mistake then why did you make it?” she asked him for no other reason than to talk. It helped to occupy her mind so she did not have to pay too much attention to the grisly wounds she was forced to see. She placed her hand on Devon’s wound and concentrated. She healed it enough so that it would heal the rest of the way on its own and so infection could not get a foothold. She couldn’t afford to heal everyone all the way. Even with the fifty or so healers it was going to be difficult to help so many.
“I thought that if I was wounded it would be a more sporting fight. It was going far too easily.” A smile appeared on his sweat streaked face.
Shirri smiled too. She liked this man with his sense of humor, not that she always understood the jokes. Midians could be strange at times. “You should be all right. Next time if you are feeling bored try something else.”
“I will.” He struggled to rise with help then hobbled off towards the bridge a little faster than when he arrived.
Thalamus could feel the power of the First Wizard enter the fray. It was the deciding factor in their battle for the winds with the Maji. He shared a smile with Dianas. Her expression changed as a frown slowly appeared. Thalamus did not need to feel the power as he could see the clouds start to spin.
“What do we do?” Dianas asked in awe of the amount of power being used.
Terence went white in the face. He held his sword hilt in a death grip. Jenarus and Telisin both stood frozen.
Thalamus felt much the same. No one could effect Naturus, the driving force of life, on such a wide scale. He doubted even the Great Gelarus could match it. If the old records were correct then there might have been a few men in history who might have come close. Herrinhall knew more than most when it came to the past. Unfortunately, none of them were here to fight for them. “We follow our instructions,” he said, trying to sound hopeful. He knew he failed. Stopping Elthzidor was not their task, not that they had much chance of that. “Come on.” He led the wizards forward. Their job now was clear. They were to move ahead with the army and deal with any Maji they came across.
Tenobius turned away from the spinning sky and looked to the tower that was south, and east, of the fighting. The time had come. The First Wizard of Herrinhall took a fateful step down the hill.
Coran swung Ice at one of the spear carrying Easterners. He was thrown off balance by the fact that there was little resistance. He expected the blade to stop when encountering armor or bone, but it was more like cutting through cloth. He had to grab the pommel of his saddle to keep himself from falling off his horse.
He came across one of the Orgog and watched as blades bounced off the tough hide. He rode up to it and with one swing cut off an arm. Another swing cut it open down the middle. Coran resisted the urge to hold up his sword and look upon
it in awe, but kept his concentration on the enemies before him.
Eventually, he came upon a hard knot of fighting in the middle of the field. He thought it was where the banner had been raised before. When it had disappeared from his sight he felt his heart turn to ice. For some reason he knew that she was there. Katelyn should have been away from the fighting, but he knew better. He knew her too well. If anything were to happen to her he didn’t know what he would do.
He could see men fighting in golden cloaks through the ring of attackers. Skill was no longer an option as his worry took over. He hacked his way through the attackers to reach the middle. He burst into the open center and seeing the Orgog, swung instantly at the neck. The gray, deformed head rolled in the snow. The body followed a second later.
Around him Knights and Northmen finished off the Easterners in this part of the field, but Coran didn’t notice. He also did not see the young Knight who was looking at the creature’s body with a great deal of relief. He only had eyes for one.
He took in her clothes, the red stained sword he had given her, and the droplets of blood on her beautiful face. There was a gravity to her features, a seriousness that had intensified since he had seen her last. They looked into each other’s faces without speaking for a long moment.
Katelyn broke the silence, reluctantly it seemed, as she looked to the sky and pointed. “What is that?”
Coran looked upward at the dark, spinning clouds. “Elthzidor.” This is what Tenobius was talking about. This was to be Coran’s fight.
“Will the wizards be able to stop it?”
“I think they would have by now.” He glanced around them. The enemy forces were being pushed backwards. “I have to stop him.”
“We have to stop him,” she corrected. She looked at the Knights still around her. “Renly.”
The young Knight was remounting his horse as he turned at her call. “Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Have someone pick up the banner and follow me.” She booted her horse forward, and Coran followed suit.
He took the lead, swinging the blue tinted sword in a great arc before them. He cut down all who stood in his way. It was soon apparent to the enemy that he was not one to fight. Karands threw down their weapons at his approach and ran away. Even the disciplined Easterners tried to get out of his way.
Midians from across the field flocked to the banner of the rose and the sun. Northmen came to fight with the Lord of the North. The battle turned as the combined forces swept across the bloody field. In some areas where Makkurans were being surrounded, they continued to fight on fiercely.
Coran could make out the black cloaked figure standing at the top of the tower. It was on the south side of the field, just inside the trees. He changed direction and made directly for the tower. The clouds were starting to spin faster. Whatever Elthzidor was doing it would become known soon.
Mounted men in scaled armor rode in between him and his target. One had his armor coated in gold. He had to be someone of importance. Whoever he was he fought well, but didn’t last much longer than anyone else.
“You!” came a shout in front of him and a tall man appeared.
Coran recognized him. “How is the arm Haltherin?”
The eyes of Haltherin blazed and he raised his one hand. The ball of fire was easily knocked aside by Ice. Coran didn’t even think about whether it was possible or not he just reacted. Another fireball came, but this one was not aimed at Coran, too late he realized that Katelyn was still beside him.
“No!” Coran shouted as he tried to turn his mount to put himself between his betrothed and fiery death but he was too slow.
Katelyn tried to twist out of the way and raised her sword to block the flaming ball. Everything seemed to slow down as he watched the fire hit the short sword, droplets of flame played across the steel and flew past, knocking her backward out of the saddle. She fell to the snow covered ground which crunched beneath her weight. She didn’t move.
Coran was horrified. He felt empty, hollow inside. Then that space was filled by rage. He turned back to the grinning Haltherin with a loathsome stare. He jumped to the ground and took a step forward. Another fire ball came at him, but Coran swept it aside with his sword. He was almost to the Maji when the air pushed at him much like that time in Lornth. Coran pushed through with his sword leading the way and the sense of pushing was gone.
Haltherin was no longer grinning. The Maji tried to turn away, his feet tangling as they tried to run. Haltherin fell to the snow and laid facing upward, his hand raised in a futile effort to protect himself. “Do not kill...” That was all he got out before Coran brought Ice down to pierce his heart.
With no resistance Coran pulled Ice out of the dead Maji. He turned around and ran to the fallen Queen. Martin was already on his knees, leaning over her as several Knights encircled them. Coran pushed his way to her side. “Is she...?” He couldn’t say it, not out loud.
“She is still breathing. Besides that I cannot tell,” the Commander informed him.
Coran could not think for his worry. Nothing else mattered except the still body of the young woman laying on top of the snow.
Petrin Venn moved through the fighting, his staff spinning to deflect swords and spears. When an opening presented itself he would deliver blows to knees and heads. He tried not to aim for vital areas since he did not want to kill anyone if he could help it. It was not the way of his people. He found himself in the middle of the ridge where the Makkurans and their allies were being pushed back by the men of Summerhall and several Northmen. There was a flash of light and the nearest Northman went up in flames. Petrin Venn looked around, not only with his eyes but his senses. He found the Maji quickly and headed for him. The Maji spotted him and struck with more fire. What is it about fire that the Maji seem to like so much? He had to wonder, and knew it was because of fire’s destructive nature. Bringing the staff up and to the side he deflected the fire ball. Again and again he deflected fire with his staff, then he pushed the staff outward in a stabbing gesture. Light flew from the end to strike the Maji in the stomach. It was not a killing blow.
“Healer! I need a healer!” someone shouted and Petrin Venn stopped his attack.
Terence Orlew blocked a clumsy attack from a long sword wielded by a man in chain mail who looked very much like a Midian. Of course he was not. Terence swung at his unprotected face and the man dropped his weapon to raise both hands to his wound, blood gushed between the fingers.
His ability to touch Naturus had manifested itself late in him, after he had nearly completed his training to become a knight. As soon as he found out about it he was shipped off to Herrinhall to begin his new training. This was the first time he had to use his power for real. Being in a fight he fell back on his earlier training with the sword which felt more instinctive.
He could not be sure exactly where he was on the field anymore, since he had been concentrating on not getting himself killed, but there were blue uniformed men around him. There were also men in the white and gold of Delios, and wild looking Northmen. Ahead, a group of Makkurans in their scaled armor came charging into the Westerners. Among them was a very large man who was completely bald. Part of Terence’s studies included learning a little about the Maji, especially the Majin. The man before him was one of the latter. His name was Kere.
Suddenly faced by another wizard who would want him dead, Terence was not sure he was ready for this.
A bolt of energy flew by his shoulder and towards Kere. The Majin swept it aside. Telisin appeared out of the mass of men to face the Majin. Terence was left with no choice but to help his fellow wizard.
Telisin and Kere exchanged magical blows of fire and air. It was apparent that the Majin was the stronger of the two. Terence gulped before moving to stand by Telisin. The Majin included him in his determined stare. The battle continued with three now instead of two. Terence was not as experienced as the others and had to work harder. He was surprised by Kere’s strength and suddenly unde
rstood all the warnings about how dangerous the Majin were compared to the Maji.
The Makkurans were being beaten back and Kere was in danger of being surrounded. The Majin gathered his full power about him and struck out with bolts of energy. Terence raised a shield of air and was knocked back so hard he flew through the air before hitting the ground.
He rolled over and sat up. He felt hurt all over. Looking towards where Telisin was standing he saw his fellow wizard, and friend, laying on the carpet of snow.
“Healer!” Coran shouted, hoping that someone might be close enough to help.
It was not long when the dark haired Petrin Venn came and checked the unconscious Queen. He put a hand to her forehead.
“Is she all right?” Coran asked anxiously.
“She is just knocked out. She will be fine,” the short wizard assured him. He didn’t remove his hand right away, but kept it there for a second before he was satisfied and only then took it away. “There.”
Katelyn’s eyes fluttered open. She stared up at Coran’s face and smiled in that way that made him swallow hard. “Did we win?”
He laughed and almost cried in relief. “Not yet.”
She sat up and looked around at the battle still being fought. It was still moving eastward, and the enemy was still fighting with no signs of giving up yet.
Katelyn appeared a bit dazed. Suddenly, she pointed past his shoulder and Coran turned to look. In the center of the spinning mass above them a dark finger of cloud dipped down towards the ground. When it touched men and horses were ripped apart by the shrieking winds.
Coran turned his head back to her. “I have to stop this.”
Her eyes were on him, but she did not seem to understand what he was saying. “What?”
Fire And Ice (Book 1) Page 65