Blade Asunder Complete Series Box Set

by Jon Kiln

  Grecia quickly left the spirit, and called for Torno, instructing him on what needed to be done. Time was of the essence, as the longer they left him hurt, the more vulnerable he was to the monsters finding him. Grecia called the pack together and changed into her lupine form. They set off in the direction that Cronos’s spirit guide had indicated.

  She was loathe to leave the territory unguarded, after they had fought so hard to clear the demons, but they would be back. For now, her main priority was the boy. His safety was paramount, because without him she doubted they could win this war.

  ***

  Cronos groaned quietly as a fever ravaged through his body. Badly injured, he was protected by the Asgwern, Canne, who would not leave his side. The beast opened up one of his huge wings and spread it over the boy, shielding him from the elements. He knew help was coming, a vision had told him so. The messenger had been human, much like his young master, but older. He could also hear the howling of wolves and knew it was a good sign. These wolves were his friends and they would take care of his master.

  They began to arrive and surrounded him, licking at his wings in greeting. In no time, he could see a human and allowed it to tend to his young master. He could sense this human had the gift of healing. Slowly, he hobbled away from his charge, leaving them room to tend him. Constantly, he had been scanning the skies and ground for danger. Now, he could wait for his master to be healed, and trusted these creatures to keep the boy safe. Relaxing, he soon fell into a light sleep, one eye constantly open for hazardous changes. His tired body needed rest, for there was much to come, and he knew he would need all his strength for his master, once he healed.

  Grecia went to the boy and immediately started the healing process. He had lost much blood, but the Asgwern had kept him warm. They would rest here a few days and take care of the young Emperor. Grecia did not want to risk his life any more than she had to.

  Her senses had warned her that a large army was marching towards the Palaran borders. It was far too mighty a troop for her and the wolves to do anything other than pick at the edges of such a powerful force. For now, that was the least of her concerns. She tended the boy, laying her hands on him and chanting the healing verses quietly to herself. This went throughout the night and into the early hours of the coming day.

  The coming dawn saw Cronos awakening, very slowly. His healing was sped up when he spotted Torno by his side. His pale face lit up when he saw him, and he smiled at his personal bodyguard, who had protected him for the last two years. He thought he had lost this wolf man to the demons.

  “It is good to see you smile, Cronos,” Torno greeted the boy. “We all feared for you, but the great beast kept you safe.” Torno nodded in the direction of the resting Asgwern.

  Cronos looked over Torno’s shoulder, as if looking for someone. “Is Rochmyr here too?” he asked hopefully.

  Torno placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “No, Cronos. He is not with us yet, but I vow I will find him. If it is possible, we will rid him of the evil that possesses him.”

  In the last two years, Cronos had become inseparable from his personal bodyguards, who had been willing to sacrifice everything, including their lives, to keep him safe. Torno was alive, could he be so lucky as to have Rochmyr returned to his side as well? He hoped so.

  It felt strange but surprisingly comforting, for Cronos to be surrounded by hundreds of wild wolves. They prowled the outskirts of the camp, and some lay by his side. From a short distance he could see the form of his Asgwern, resting, and he felt relieved that, for now, all was well.

  Although they had wandered away from the borders to find Cronos, they would begin to travel back again the next day. It was time to regroup and prepare to attack the army of demons that had gathered on the borders, as opposed to the stragglers they had found so far. Grecia knew that alone they could do little other than harry them. Something anew was happening. The force she had sensed that was approaching the border lands, was a force for good. It was marching towards them. It filled her with hope, that together they could repel the evil that had taken over this land, and now threatened her homeland, Palara.

  40

  They had moved quickly away from the temple once they secured the book that they came for. Azmariddian was sure they had not been detected, but neither felt safe until they were as far away from the coven as possible. It meant traveling through the night, and as dawn began to break they could see the roof tops of the royal city in the distance.

  Despite being tired from constant travel, they decided to enter the city and find a safe house. They needed to take protection whilst they planned the next move. Using one of the secret tunnels, which Azmariddian knew would lead into the lower levels of the city, they eventually made their way to the merchants’ quarters. As they moved through the streets, they witnessed pockets of fighting still going on in the city. This made progress slow. Luckily they came across a group of mercenaries who were hunting down the demons, and one recognized Azmariddian from the palace. It was good to be updated with the news of progress as the warriors informed them of what they knew.

  “They say the soldiers are heading for the palace. That’s where the main battle will be fought,” one of them spoke to Azmariddian of what the soldiers had told him. “The mercenaries are to mop up any demons lingering in the streets. There’s also talk of a great battle at sea, with an invading navy attacking a rogue Mirnean fleet,” he said, feeling quite pleased with himself for knowing so much.

  “That must be Queen Myriam’s doing,” Hendon replied, pleased at this news. “She would have thought of everything, knowing her as I do. I wouldn't be surprised to hear she’s out there, battling them herself.”

  “Indeed,” the druid nodded his agreement. He had only met the queen briefly, but he was struck by her strong will and unwavering sense of purpose.

  “It’s fairly easy to get through the city,” the mercenary finished, as he was turning to lead his party onwards. “Though access to the palace level will be difficult. Unless you can find yourselves a troop of soldiers.”

  The two travelers thanked him for his update and turned in a different direction to the fighting.

  “Let’s continue on then,” Hendon suggested.

  Moving around the bottom levels of the city had always been relatively easy. This was where the poorer residents resided, and there had always been only a limited presence of security. The problem would not be guards at the gates, as in the past, but demons. Vicious creatures that had originally been sent from the palace in large groups, to capture the humans as slaves. The mercenaries were battling them, but had warned they were still around, only now they killed the humans as opposed to gathering them.

  As they approached the market square, they could see activity. Groups of people were congregating around stalls, and distributing food for free. It seemed the people had rallied together and would see this war out by helping each other.

  Hendon and Azmariddian approached the food stalls, much to the delight of Lucy the monkey, who jumped up and down with joy on Hendon’s shoulders. He was going to name the helpful little animal, Lucky, but when he realized it was female, Lucy seemed more appropriate.

  They were soon surrounded by ragged children who were attracted to the little monkey. Entranced by the cute animal, it brought a little light into their gloomy lives.

  They listened to the locals speaking about the ongoing battle as they ate the offered food, given to them by the stallholders.

  “You know, Hendon, I was thinking,” Azmariddian spoke while they stood by a food stall, eating a warming vegetable stew. “I have some skill with the weather, and I’m certain these gloomy storms are here for a reason.”

  “Well, they’re clearly magically induced,” Hendon noted. “Are you suggesting these creatures need rain?”

  “Maybe not the rain, but have you noticed how the sun never breaks through the clouds?” the druid asked. “I could part a few of those clouds and let the sunlight in, just
to see what effect it has on them.”

  “I have no skills with the weather so I can’t help you, but I can keep you protected while you do your magic,” Hendon offered.

  They agreed it was worth a try, and had nothing to lose, but first they would rise up through the city. Once they were closer to the palace, Azmariddian would attempt to part the clouds. Hopefully, the sun would shine over Mirnee, for the first time in weeks.

  Saying their thanks and farewells to the people and children, they set off for the next level. This was where the first city wall appeared. The first level was on the outskirts of the city, now they were entering the perimeters. From here they could see smoke in the distance as they looked out to sea. Over the bay, small warships were arriving in the harbor. Even from here, Hendon could see the Palaran national flag. As they docked, hundreds of troops streamed off the vessels.

  It did not take long to get to the merchants’ level. All that was left to overcome was the barracks level, to get to the palace. The battle raged harder here, with mercenaries and demons fighting openly in the streets. Hendon and Azmariddian looked for a quiet corner, so the druid could perform his weather spell.

  They found an old prayer house with a bell tower, and made their way inside, climbing up the narrow and winding stone stairwell. At the top they found a small platform where Azmariddian knelt on the floor, readying for his chanting spell. Lucy sensed something was happening and remained quiet, tucking herself into Hendon’s cloak and snuggling up to the safeness of his warm body.

  Hendon looked over the edge of the platform, where there was a courtyard below. He could see mercenaries fighting ugly demons.

  Lightning struck in large white sheets across the darkened yellow and grey skies. Rain was a constant, never ceasing for a single moment. The stormy weather brought with it a sulfurous aroma, very unpleasant for humans, but the demons seemed to thrive on it.

  Azmariddian continued chanting in a flat level tone, but soon the chanting become louder. As if in protest, a huge crack of thunder rang out, followed by forks of lightning. It struck at the platform where they stood, but both were unharmed. Hendon perceived a change in the atmosphere, though barely noticeable. Soon the dark sky brightened a little, the rain slowed down. Hendon looked up and could see the stormy dark clouds drifting away. The skies were turning into a light grey, and then a bright orb could be seen pushing through what was left of the storm clouds. The sun, it was trying to break through. The darkness began to lift, and the rain was now just a mere drizzle. The bad weather had not completely gone, but it should disperse within a day.

  “By the Maker, you’ve done it, Azmariddian,” Hendon said to the weary druid.

  “Well, it should give us some time,” Azmariddian spoke quietly, clearly exhausted from his efforts.

  “Will it hold?” Hendon asked, lending a hand to Azmariddian to help him up from the ground.

  “That I cannot know, but we can hope,” he replied. He sincerely hoped it would hold. He could not do another spell like that one, for a while yet. “Let’s see if it’s affected the creatures.”

  They both stepped to the edge of the platform, looking down at the battle that raged below. Now the scene was a different one. No longer were the demons fighting the mercenaries, instead they shrieked in pain as the sun burst upon the courtyard, and they scattered to the shadows, hiding from its bright rays.

  “I think we’ve found their weakness,” Hendon said to the druid.

  41

  Thalia’s plans had gone so well. Her forces were here in numbers, and she had control of the kingdom. The Emperor and his son were dead, and the borders between Mirnee and Palara closed. Her troops were amassing there, ready for an invasion to get her second kingdom.

  But everything had not gone to plan. She had lost her great Asgwern, Canne, and they had been unable to close the border between Mirnee and Vandemland because of some infernal enchanted forest. Plus, the palace was now under attack. Despite this, Thalia was not concerned. She had expected some kind of revolt, and she was gaining the numbers to deal with it, while the portal was still open. Demons were entering this world every day.

  A messenger arrived to speak with her. A small demon, not as fearsome or large as the others, it was used for administration rather than battle. He approached her, and fell to his knees, laying prone on the ground in front of his mistress. The creature’s face was pressed against the cold floor, while he waited for her command to speak.

  “What is it? I’m very busy here,” she finally spotted him, and asked.

  The creature gathered his courage, and told his mistress of the bad news he bore.

  The messenger looked up meekly from the floor. “The weather is breaking,” he stuttered. “Sun lights up the city, and your demons flee in the face of its rays.”

  How could this be? She had cast a powerful magical spell on the elements in this kingdom by blocking out the sun completely with dark storm clouds. Her creatures hated the sun, its rays burnt their skin and blinded them. Who could overturn such a powerful enchantment?

  “We have also been infiltrated within the palace,” the small beast rushed out his final piece of news, and awaited the response. He doubted he would leave this room alive.

  The last piece of information was not new to Thalia, she had sensed the presence of enemy forces inside the palace, but it had not concerned her. They were small in numbers, and her guards could easily deal with them. But the news about the weather was a different matter. Obviously, she had underestimated the power of the spell weavers here. If they were able to defeat her magic, then she must stay out of their way. For the first time since she had returned from her long banishment, she feared for her plans.

  Thalia called over one of her lieutenants.

  “Find the forces that are inside the palace. I sense there are only a few, and bring them to me alive. I will torture every last piece of information out of them, and determine who has lifted my spell.”

  The soldier bowed and quickly left the dungeon, taking a small troop with him. As she watched them leave, Thalia felt a cold shiver tingle down her spine. It took a moment or two, before she realized that it was fear.

  ***

  Ganry and his small group had searched through many chambers seeking out the witch queen, Thalia, with no luck. Not only could they not find her, but most of the palace seemed deserted. There were no witches and only a few demons, who they dispatched quickly.

  He hoped the battle was going well outside, and he was encouraged when he saw sunlight streaming through one of the windows. If the weather was lifting, then maybe Thalia’s grip on this world was weakening.

  They rounded a corner and found themselves confronted by a large troop of demons. It was obvious they had been waiting for them for as soon as they entered the corridor, further creatures appeared at their rear and cut off any retreat.

  Ganry cursed himself quietly. He had been overconfident because of the lack of resistance, but now they had walked into a trap. The demons outnumbered them ten to one and escape was not an option. Ganry’s hand went instinctively to his sword. If he was to die here then he would take many of these creatures with him. Preparing to launch an attack, a human commander from the Mirnean army stepped out of the group of demons, and held his hand up in front of him.

  “Resistance is futile,” the commander said. “Lay down your weapons, or die.”

  Ganry was unsure what to do. It seemed that they were here to take them alive, but why? Perhaps it was just a trick, but he doubted it. If they had wanted them dead, they would be by now. He looked at the three men who stood by his side. Nodding at them, they dropped their weapons, as did Ganry. He felt, rather than saw, someone move behind him. Before he could react, a heavy blow struck him on the back of the head, and he crumpled to the floor.

  ***

  Ganry and his fighting companions were carried down to the dungeons and thrown on to the ground in a heap. Cold water was doused over them to bring them back to consciousnes
s.

  Ganry felt the sharpness of a chill run right through his body. He shivered awake, only to see that he was in semi-darkness. Around the room, on the walls, were lit sconces, but they cast very little light. The stench was overpowering, sulfurous and choking, almost as if something had died, rotted, and turned into some stinking gas.

  He rubbed his eyes, realizing he was not restrained. As his eyes scanned the room he became aware that they were surrounded by a guard of demons. From behind them came a laugh that sent an icy chill to his very core, a venomous, chilling sound. The demon guards parted, and a woman walked through them towards the prisoners. Ganry looked upon the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. A striking, but cruel face, and long dark hair that flowed over her shoulders and down her back. This was Thalia, the Queen witch. Of this, he had no doubt.

  From the corner of his eye he could see something shimmering. As he turned to see what had drawn his attention, he noticed a red swirling wheel hanging in midair. It was mesmerizing how it swirled, so beautiful that it was almost hypnotizing. Instantly, he forced his eyes away. This must be the portal. By fortune, good or bad, he was in the exact place he had been looking for. Now all he needed was to be free, so he could kill this evil witch.

  42

  Grecia and her wolves rested for two nights while she tended to Cronos. He recovered quickly and was soon walking about, under the watchful eye of Torno. On the dawn of the third day, wolves who were patrolling the plains, returned and informed Grecia that a human army was on the march and heading in their direction.

  “That must be Qutaybah and the Queen returning, as promised,” Grecia said aloud. “We must meet them, and inform them of that gathered demon army on the borders.”

  Grecia and half the pack of wolves left to meet the arriving troops. She left Torno and the rest of the wolves behind. Cronos was not yet strong enough to undertake such a journey, even on the back of his great winged beast.