Blade Asunder Complete Series Box Set

by Jon Kiln

Hendon and Azmariddian came out from their hiding places once the bears had gone, rushing to the humans who still cowered in the road.

  “It’s over, you are safe for now,” Hendon reassured them.

  The druid removed their chains with a spell, causing the metal to dissolve.

  “What happened?” one man asked Hendon. “Was that your doing?”

  “No time to explain,” Hendon replied, brushing off the query. “You cannot stay out in the open like this. Go find somewhere to take shelter. Do any of you know anywhere local that you can go hide for a while?”

  “I know somewhere,” a young boy spoke up. He was disheveled and tired, but Hendon could see defiance in his eyes. “It’s not far from here, caves that are hidden by brush and gorse. We’ll be safe.”

  “Then go, and get there quickly. We’ll follow for a while, but we are not able to stay with you.”

  Hendon and Azmariddian helped some of the weaker prisoners to their feet. They walked with them, offering support where needed. Progress was slow, but soon they were deep into the trees and heading towards a rock face. As they drew closer, the young boy who had spoken of the caves broke away and studied the cliff wall. The group waited for his instructions. For a moment, Hendon was beginning to think the boy must have taken them the wrong way, but then he shouted out, in joy.

  “Here, it’s here! Come, this way,” he yelled, laughing at his own relief in finding the hidden caves.

  The entrance to the caves was well hidden. Anyone passing would be unlikely to find it, so they should be safe here. As he helped settle them in, Hendon could hear the tinkling of running water at the back of the cave.

  Once they were certain the ragged group were settled, Hendon and Azmariddian were readying to set off again on their journey to find the witches’ hideout. Hendon shouted the boy over, “Do you know this area well, boy?” he asked, hopeful.

  The boy nodded that he did.

  “Can you draw me a map in the dirt to a place called Haunted Hill?”

  Though the boy’s eyes suddenly looked fearful, he nodded his agreement and searched for a long stick. Sure enough, he drew a crude map, and it did not look like they had far to go.

  “You will look for a very old, knotted tree,” the boy said. “Stories tell of a place where they hanged witches. Other stories say it’s an entrance to the witches’ lair. It is a fearful place, sir,’ he finished.

  Thanking the boy, they set off, leaving behind a small amount of supplies. There were enough adults to sort out a hunting party, once they were rested.

  Hopefully they would not be distracted further. The success of this quest could determine the outcome of the coming war.

  35

  Grecia scanned the skies, anxiously looking for Cronos to return safely. He had been foolish to fly off, taking those Asgwern with him. She knew his intentions were good, but he had a vital role to play in this, she was certain. Without him, she doubted they could be victorious. Having been tasked to keep him safe, now she felt helpless. All she could do was hope for his safe return.

  Still in wolf form, Grecia continued to join in with the battle on the ground. They were almost at the mountain pass of Mount Palmern, that led into Palara. There had been plenty of resistance on the way. The wild wolves of Mirnee had come to her call, and they attacked the demons on the journey here. Now the border was in sight, and the fighting was getting more intense.

  The demons seemed to be in small groups, which made it easier to attack them. Whilst they were larger than the wild wolves, the wolves had numbers on their side. They attacked as a pack, coordinated well, and in sync with one other. Targeting individual demons and overpowering them, until they had them down on the ground where they would summarily dispatch the hapless beast. They ripped out throats with their huge canines, before moving onto the next.

  The battle was going well and they had advanced quickly. Up ahead, Grecia could see the shimmering barrier that lay across the pass, barring entry or exit. Even from where she was, she could sense its power, raising the hackles on the back of her neck. For this barrier to be functioning, the witches must be close by. If they could find and kill the witches, they could break down the barrier.

  Grecia held back and changed into human form. A number of demons were scattered around, dead on the ground, but for each one there accompanied more dead wolves. A large number of the packs had already been killed. While larger numbers had proved decisive, they were quickly being reduced at a rate that could not be sustained. She could not allow for the wild wolves of Mirnee to be decimated.

  Considering ordering the wolves to retreat, she saw a familiar figure. Looking again, disbelievingly, she was sure she must be wrong, but no, it was definitely him. Stood, with sword in hand battling against the wolves, was Torno. Her companion, and personal bodyguard to Cronos. Yet, there he stood before her, fighting for the enemy. He could only have been possessed, but it would take a strong essence to possess a wolf person.

  Now her main task was to rescue Torno. With him by her side, combined with Lazras and Kregon, they would be stronger. Victory would be assured. She could not leave this place knowing he had been possessed. There was only one thing for it, she either had to kill him, or deflect the evil spirit inside of him. Grecia prayed that Torno’s spirit was not yet rejected. If it was, then he would be gone forever from this world.

  Grecia changed back into her lupine form and slowly flanked around the creature she knew as Torno. Right now, she needed to find a safe area where she could enter a mystical trance. Just behind him there lay thick gorse and brush, ideal for her to hide away. Once certain she was out of sight, Grecia lay upon the ground and cleared her mind of everything. The battle noises around her, the smell of blood, the cries of fear, she shut it all out.

  Concentrating heavily on Torno was not easy, but eventually she found the connection to his mind. Treading carefully, she delved into the mind of the monster that possessed Torno. He was an essence of evil and power, and she hid from his thoughts. His battle lust blinded him, for now. This helped her to get deeper into his subconscious, searching for her old friend, Torno, the wolf.

  He was close by, she could sense him, but he was in a deep sleep. He would need to be awakened, if this was to work. Conjuring up memories of her homeland, where she ran in familiar meadows, might attract the suppressed spirit.

  Torno was asleep in an abyss of darkness. He experienced his body floating in nothingness. Every time he attempted to awaken, the beast overpowered him, sending him back to an empty place. This time, something was different. In the distance he could hear a woman laughing. His thoughts stirred, once again he was aware of his prison. Who was that? Someone was there. A woman was beckoning him with her laughter.

  The demon became aware of an intruder in the mind of the creature he possessed. It was not the wolf man, his spirit had been subdued. It was only a matter of time before it would be gone forever. No. This was something else, someone powerful. Something he feared.

  Torno could see a familiar place, it lifted his heart. There was a woman running, and there was color, bright greens and blues. A meadow. Yes, it was grass, it was a part of his world. Concentrating harder, he could see a vision of his homeland. The woman approached him. She looked familiar but he could not place her.

  Grecia dared not call out his name, but she could see a shadow in the meadow. Sure it was Torno and not the beast, she moved towards him, silently. When she stood in front of him, his hazy form took shape. She put her finger to her lips, indicating to the man before her to hush. They could not speak just yet.

  Torno recognized it was Grecia, but what was she doing here? Just as he went to speak, she hushed him, but he could see the images she put in his mind. She showed him the gorse bushes, and a wolf hiding behind them. He knew that wolf was Grecia, and he started to walk towards the bushes.

  The beast was unsure what was happening. It seemed he was losing control over the body he possessed, as it walked away from the battle and int
o the scrub land. He attempted to stop it, but the legs just kept moving. Before him stood a wolf, though much larger than those he had been fighting.

  Grecia watched from her position in the thick brush, as she returned to her present world. The beast of Torno was looking for her, and it was into the brush where she hid, just as she had planned. As soon as he was within range, she leapt at him, sinking teeth into his muscled arm.

  Careful not to cause too much injury to her companion’s body, but yet needing him to feel the sensation of pain to reach Torno’s spirit. At first the beast fought back, putting its strong arms around her wolf neck, in the hope of breaking it and strangling the very life out of this strange animal. He was certain this was the cause of the spirit’s awakening.

  Torno felt the pain. He was injured, but did not know where. Images flashed through his mind that he was battling with a wolf, one that looked familiar, the shaman. Why would he battle with her? Now, he understood, she had come to him, awakened him from the darkness that he festered within. He must fight, now. Fight to evict the evil spirit that possessed his body. His life depended on it. Grecia’s life depended on it.

  Grecia felt Torno grab at the fur on the back of her head, and wrap his other arm around her neck, squeezing. She struggled, but it was a battle she was losing. The tighter he squeezed the weaker she became. A dark mist descended over her eyes as she slowly lost consciousness. It was too late to save herself. Torno must win the war of wills in his head, or they would both be dead.

  Suddenly the grip loosened, and Grecia gulped air into her almost bursting lungs. The creature staggered backwards, and fell to its knees. Putting hands to its ears, as if trying to close off some noise, it roared into the sky. Torno had regained his grip, and he yanked the memories of the demon away, until his own memories returned. He could see, he had sight. Before him were trees, he could once again see his world. Looking down on the ground, he could also see a large wolf laying still on the earth. Torno bent down and stroked at the thick fur. Grecia turned back into her human form.

  “Torno,” she said in a weakened voice. “You did it.”

  “Thanks to you, Grecia, my shaman. I am free and I must find Rochmyr, for he is imprisoned also. I must free my friend.”

  Together they embraced as only friends can. Grecia was so happy to have Torno returned to the pack.

  36

  With the mercenaries, city guards, and volunteers all gathered, Ganry was ready to attack the palace from outside, and from within. He felt certain that the leader of this ungodly invasion was inside the palace. Now was the time to flush them out, whoever they were.

  The plan was for himself and a few volunteers who were familiar with the inside of the palace layout, to go along with him. Using the secret tunnels that led into the palace grounds, they should arrive unseen. Ganry and his small group were entering the palace with only one purpose in mind: to find and kill the leader. At a given time, the rest of the forces would attack the palace, head on. The outside attack would cause a diversion that would allow Ganry and his men to complete their mission. The only way to beat these beasts was to kill their leader, the one summoning the demons. The chaos to come should allow him the opportunity to be successful.

  The element of surprise was crucial, especially if they were to get into the palace unnoticed. The forces outside would give them one hour to get into position, before starting the attack. The initial attack would be preceded by a round of cannon fire. Once it commenced, he would hunt down the leader within the palace, and find out where the portal was situated.

  The commanders made their final plans at the inn, before joining their men and readying them for battle. Ganry wished them all luck, giving the city guards a Mirnean national salute, both arms crossed over their chests. These were brave men who would risk everything for their kingdom. He may never see them again, as the risks were great. Although they are unlikely to be outnumbered, their foe was far stronger than any single human warrior. The attack needed to be swift. He hoped to find the enemy leader quickly, otherwise they might all perish in this battle.

  Some headed through the tunnel that led into the palace grounds, others entered the palace level in other ways, to spread out. Once on that level, they would silently get into position, and wait for the signal to attack. Going separate ways once through the tunnel, Ganry’s party of around a hundred men made their way into the main palace building by using one of the many secret passageways that honeycombed the palace.

  Once deep into the palace, they headed in all directions, but Ganry himself went for the royal chambers with a few of chosen men. As they moved quietly through the narrow passageways, Ganry heard voices through the walls. They were human voices, but from the mannerism and guttural outbursts, it soon became obvious they were not as they seemed. Ganry held up his hand to alert the others, and they all stopped in their tracks. Finding a small gap in the paneling, he saw the hallway where three men stood, dressed in royal guard officers’ uniforms.

  “I smell those humans. They are close,” one remarked, sniffing the air.

  “Thalia should not have sent all the witches to the borders, leaving us little magic in this place,” another replied in a gravelly voice, as if he found forming words difficult.

  A chill ran down Ganry’s back at hearing the name Thalia. She was the banished Queen witch who had caused so much death and destruction in Palara by raising an army of the dead. It was all beginning to make sense to him now. Cronos becoming possessed, and then finding him almost dead in the throne room. She had tried to capture him once before, using her witch coven to kidnap the boy. Two years ago she had failed, but this time Ganry feared she had succeeded. If she too, had managed to enter this world, then the battle had just become much harder.

  A third figure entered the hallway and Ganry could just about make him out. It was an old friend of his, General Julian. Even through the crack in the wall, Ganry could see it was not really him anymore. His face was twisted with anger, and his eyes burned a deep red, yet he had always been such a gentle human.

  “What are you all doing, conniving here!” he yelled at the others. “Get out and man those walls, you scum. Our mistress has much to do, and we do not want those humans slowing the process down, you driveling idiots!”

  Ganry heard growling noises emanating from their throats. It was as he had feared, these men were possessed, and probably past the point of no return. Grecia had warned him this might happen. He doubted he could save many of the commanders of the Mirnean army. They had been possessed for too long, and now their souls were gone. Mirnee had many brave men, but these commanders would be missed. Hopefully, for some it may not be too late, but he could not know until it was over.

  They were waiting anxiously for the sound of the large cannon. At that point, all humans would begin the attack, both in and out of the palace. Ganry worried that they may be found if they waited much longer. He was relieved to see the creatures march away.

  The roar of cannon fire echoed loudly, having been fired from the barracks level. He gave the order to his small group to exit the passageway. From inside the castle they could hear the sounds of the battle on the outside. He hoped the attack would go in their favor, but there was nothing he could do for now. It was their role to hunt down and kill the witch Queen. He could not fail in this task. Many men attacking the castle would die as they created a diversion so he could hunt down the leader, Thalia, and put an end to this madness.

  With swords in hand, they carefully made their way towards the royal chambers. The battle to free Mirnee had begun at last.

  37

  Hendon and Azmariddian had set up camp for the night. They sat around eating their meager rations of cold provisions. It was best not light a fire, for fear of discovery.

  “There, I hear it again. Did you hear that, Hendon?” the druid asked his traveling companion.

  “I did. I fear we are being followed, because I’ve felt its presence for the last few hours.”

&nb
sp; Both stared intently into the dark night. Hendon grasping his staff, while Azmariddian chanted an incantation under his breath. The bushes just ahead rustled and they prepared themselves for battle, when a small monkey leapt into the clearing. It stopped a few feet in front of them, watching them both curiously with its eyes wide open.

  “Ha, ha, ha,” Hendon laughed in relief. “What manner of strange creature are you then?”

  “It’s not from these parts,” Azmariddian responded. “We have no native creatures like that around here.”

  The monkey moved closer towards them, sniffing the air as it slowly approached. Hendon threw it a piece of hard cheese, which it inspected for a few seconds, before wolfing it down.

  “I think it’s a friendly little thing. I wonder if it was following that group we helped, and it’s ended up tagging onto us,” Hendon said.

  “In all likelihood it just wants feeding by anyone who will have it,” Azmariddian said, with a frown to his brow. He was none too fond of monkeys, thinking of them as thieves and vagabonds’ pets.

  The monkey moved closer and sat on Hendon’s lap, while he fed it nuts from his provisions.

  “Look, Azmariddian, I think it likes me.”

  “I wouldn’t let it get too close, it’s probably got fleas!” the druid announced distastefully.

  They settled down for the night, and soon all three were fast asleep. Azmariddian alone in his bedroll, and Hendon shared his with his new found companion.

  Come morning, the monkey was still with them, and they both shared their breakfast with it.

  Hendon stood, walking to the edge of the clearing that they had camped on.

  “There it is, can you see that tower peering over the trees?” Hendon said, as he pointed something out in the woodlands. “That’s the place, I’m certain. See, look at our map,” he said, unraveling the velum map.