The White Tower (The Aldoran Chronicles: Book 1)

by Michael Wisehart

  The creature struck again, its massive claws reaching for the kill. Ayrion sidestepped and deflected the creature’s arm with his swords, hoping to hit the beast from behind, but instead, he tripped over a fallen guard and went down. Without hesitating, he rolled. His instincts saved his life as the creature buried its claws into the back of the fallen guard beside him.

  Flipping back to his feet, Ayrion watched as the half-animal, half-human monster shook the dead guard from its hand and twisted around to find him. Over his shoulder, Ayrion could see that Tolin had managed to get a contingent of his lancers around the royal family and their guests. The commander approached with a squad of polemen, their halberds were held out with tips aimed at the creature.

  “You look like you could use some help.”

  “Could have used it a while ago.”

  The creature continued to circle their position. It seemed to be drawing them away from the main group, but as long as the beast continued to put distance between itself and the king, Ayrion was more than happy to accommodate.

  Tolin and his men formed a line on either side of Ayrion. The commander grunted. “I tell you, these grouse get bigger every year.”

  Ayrion almost laughed but the sound of another set of roars tore the urge right out of him. “What in the name of . . .” All heads turned at once as two more creatures flew out of the trees behind them and hit the rear flank of the lancer guard protecting the king.

  The sudden diversion gave the first creature the opportunity to attack, but instead of coming directly for Ayrion, it lunged at the commander and his squad. Half a dozen lancers were ripped apart before Tolin managed to thrust his halberd into the creature’s left shoulder and force it back. The creature screamed in fury as it split Tolin’s halberd in half and caught the commander in the leg, knocking him to the ground. Before it could finish him off, Ayrion was there blocking and countered the creature’s strikes.

  “Protect the commander!” Ayrion hollered at the remaining lancers. “I’ve got to save the king!” Breaking off his engagement with the first creature, Ayrion ran toward the growing foray on the other side of the large meadow. The two creatures were fighting to reach Rhydan, but were momentarily being blocked by what remained of the High Guard and the Sidaran lancers. Ayrion could see it wasn’t going to be enough.

  From the corner of his eye, Ayrion saw Asa come riding out of the forest path near the front of the valley. His lancers were right behind him, each leading two or three horses apiece. He could hear the rugged overcaptain barking his orders. “Sergeant, take some men and help the commander! The rest with me!”

  By the time Ayrion reached the others, Rhydan and Dakaran were swinging widely at one of the creatures, fighting as best they could to keep out of the way of its deadly claws. Ambassadors Lanmiere and Belkor were standing over top of a wounded Nierdon, defending their position with a couple of the polearms they had retrieved from the fallen.

  Sheathing his swords, Ayrion reached down and grabbed a fallen halberd being held in place by a severed arm. Not taking the time to remove the bloody limb, he pushed his way in front of the king and drove it into the creature’s unprotected abdomen. The beast recoiled, causing Ayrion to lose his grip as the wooden shaft hit him in the chest and sent him spinning. It didn’t penetrate as far as he would have liked, but it did force the beast to momentarily retract.

  Ayrion could see that one-on-one tactics were not going to do much in this fight. They were going to need to rely on numbers and brute force. A cut here and a stab there wasn’t going to get the job done. He needed to find a weak spot.

  The creature spun on Ayrion, but already anticipating the attack, Ayrion pushed the king out of the way and rolled underneath as the beast severed the head of the lancer that had been standing next to him and skewered a second with its right claws. Ayrion’s shoulder was throbbing. He could feel blood dripping from his hand as he fought to keep the numbness at bay. He had to do something. These men’s deaths were on him if he didn’t.

  Hopping back to his feet, Ayrion turned to find the creature staring down at him. It appeared to be smiling, or as close to it as it could manage. Ayrion held its gaze. He suddenly realized he had just found a weak spot.

  The creature reared back to strike, but the sound of harsh language being spewed from an even harsher one-eyed overcaptain forced its attention elsewhere.

  Asa rode in with his cavalry reserves, swinging his heavy battle-axe in one hand while keeping a tight rein on his horse with the other.

  Ayrion moved the king and the prince behind what was left of the lancer formation. He left them there as he circled back. Pulling one of his black blades, he waited for the beast to turn in his direction before launching it directly at the creature’s head. As he had so many other times before, Ayrion could feel the accuracy of the throw from the moment it left his hand. The creature screamed as the steel buried itself to the hilt inside its right eye. Its body stiffened as it hit the ground.

  Witnessing the death of one of their own, the two remaining creatures fought all the harder. Rage with deadly purpose drove them to the extreme, acting on sheer impulse instead of instinct as if they were being compelled without a will of their own.

  The second of the two beasts, still battling to reach the king, was being brought to bear with the new arrival of the mounted troops. The overwhelming numbers were managing to not only hold it at bay, but drive it back.

  The creature tore at the soldiers with the fierceness of insanity. It satiated its hunger on the gore of both man and horse. All around, lancers were being ripped apart. Their remains coated the ground.

  The creature managed to thwart the cavalry’s advance by slashing at their horse’s legs to bring them down. Ayrion retrieved his blade and swung himself onto Shade. His enormous warhorse had found his way to Ayrion without prodding. Ayrion spared a quick glance across the field where Commander Tolin was limping heavily on one leg while he and his men did everything they could to hold the first creature back.

  Ayrion directed Shade straight at the second beast.

  Asa took a hit to the midsection and was thrown from his mount, spouting insults the whole way down. Ayrion dug in his heels and Shade charged directly into the side of the creature just as it was about to take a swing at Dakaran. The force of Shade’s body, and a precise thrust of his blade into its side, knocked the creature sideways, giving the lancers a chance to skewer its legs with their halberds. With a cry of pain, it fell backwards.

  “Kill it while it’s down!” the king shouted as he charged forward and thrust his long blade into the beast’s side. Dakaran, Belkor, and what remained of the lancers joined the king. Within moments, they had hacked the creature apart.

  A furious cry resounded from the first creature on the other side of the meadow as it punched its way through what was left of the commander’s lancers, scattering them like leaves in the wind. Ayrion could see it was making one final effort to reach the king. Without hesitating, Ayrion kicked Shade into motion.

  As if sensing his rider’s urgency, Shade bounded forward toward the coming creature. With nostrils flaring and dirt flying in all directions, the dark warhorse fought to give Ayrion every last bit of speed it had. The two had fought side by side so many times before that they could almost sense each other’s needs.

  Fifteen paces. Ten paces. Five. Ayrion stood from the back of his saddle and leaped into the air with both blades out and ready to strike.

  Realizing that there was no backing down now, the creature turned its head and roared as Ayrion came down on top of it. The speed of his descent drove both his blades straight through and out the back of the creature’s neck. In one fluid motion, Ayrion landed, rolled, and was back on his feet with both his swords outstretched beside him, tips to the ground.

  The creature’s last breath came out as an eerie sort of whimper.

  “Close rank! Close rank!” Tolin hollered as he limped his way across the meadow to what remained of the king’s huntin
g party.

  Those still standing quickly formed a small circle, shoulder to shoulder. No matter their title, whether king, ambassador, or ranker, they stood side by side with sword and lance in hand waiting to face down whatever might be coming. Ayrion, along with his one remaining High Guard, stood in front of the king, both swords drawn.

  After a long stretch of silence, Ayrion could feel the tension beginning to lift. He reached out with his senses but they came back empty, which he figured didn’t mean a whole lot since his ability only gave him a few seconds warning. But from the stillness, it appeared they had weathered the storm.

  Chapter 28 | Ayrion

  THE LARGE CLEARING smelled of turned earth and death.

  The metallic stench was only slightly abated by the cool breeze coming off the mountains behind them. The wind whistled through the surrounding trees as the noises of the forest had once again returned, bringing with it a renewed sense of hope and gratitude at having been given a second chance at life.

  After sending a few men out to scout the surrounding wood, and finding no other creatures lying in wait, the king ordered them to start gathering the wounded. Tolin suggested setting up a small encampment near the center of the open valley which would put as much distance as they could between them and the surrounding tree line in case of further attack.

  Ayrion’s arm ached from the deep lacerations he’d received in the attack. He had cleaned them as best he could and packed some material under his coat to keep the bleeding contained. His coat, on the other hand, was a different matter. It was going to need a good tailor.

  After helping Tolin gather the fallen for the healer to attend, Ayrion sat down to clean the blood from his blades. As he did, he kept a close eye on Rhydan. He wasn’t about to let the king out of his sight. Ayrion had never faced anything like this before. Their entire party had nearly been wiped out in just a matter of moments. The realization of what had happened shook him. How could he protect the king against an enemy for which he knew nothing?

  “Those have got to be the best investments I have ever made,” Rhydan said as he walked over and sat down. Ayrion started to rise but the king motioned for him to remain seated. Rhydan lifted one of the short, tempered swords from Ayrion’s lap and inspected the black steel. “If I had only known the extent of craftsmanship going into them, I would have ordered one for myself. I still might.”

  Ayrion could tell the king was trying to sound upbeat. Rhydan had always been one to instill a sense of strength in those he led. “They are indeed beautiful weapons, Your Majesty.” Ayrion raised a hand to block the setting sun from his eyes. “I never did ask you where they had been procured.”

  “I was told they came from a small shop in Rhowynn, nothing too special about the place, or the smith for that matter, except he was known to forge steel in a way that made it near indestructible. Of course, I was a bit skeptical at first considering the price. But . . .” He shrugged. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to try. Besides, if they had turned out to be less than worthy, I could have always given them to one of the overlords as a gift.”

  Ambassador Belkor grunted, apparently not finding the king’s humor to his liking.

  Ayrion balanced the other blade in his hand. “I would say he lived up to his word, Your Majesty.”

  “Aye, indeed he did.” Rhydan ran a gloved hand through his gray beard. “With talent like that, I’m going to have to track the man down and offer him the position of Royal Weapons Smith before someone else recognizes his abilities and steals him away.”

  Commander Tolin limped his way over with a little help from a large halberd.

  “Do we know how many casualties yet, Commander?”

  Ayrion finished wiping down his other sword and stood as Tolin approached. “We lost all but two of the High Guard, Your Majesty.”

  Tolin shook his head and sighed. “We also lost the better part of two companies of lancers and three of our five bowmen. The last time we saw the veneur, they were chasing down their dogs, probably halfway to Aramoor by now, much like our Keldoran Ambassador. From what I saw, he was fleeing into the woods like the Defiler had called his name.”

  “We need to send some men to make sure he’s found,” the king said. “It’s easy to get lost in there.”

  “I’ll see to it, Your Majesty.” Tolin bowed and limped in the direction of Overcaptain Asa, who was still tending to their fallen.

  Rhydan waited until Tolin was out of earshot before turning back around to Ayrion. “To be honest, I can’t much blame the ambassador. One look at those creatures and I was nearly ready to join him.” He took a deep breath. “I can’t tell you the last time I’ve been so frightened. Not just for me, but for my kingdom, for all our kingdoms. Something is changing,” he said as he pushed his fist into his gut. “I can feel it in here.”

  Ayrion didn’t know how to respond except to nod in agreement. To hear the king speak in such a manner was frightening enough, but knowing he was right was even more so.

  After sliding his blades into their sheaths, Ayrion followed the king over to where the prince knelt, studying one of the downed beasts. “I don’t know what to believe,” Rhydan said. “I’ve always heard stories growing up about the creatures that were here before the Great Purge, but to be honest, I never believed them. I thought they were just old tales the common folk used to gain a few drinks at the tavern, or scare their children into obeying, but here we are standing next to not just one, but three.” He placed his foot on the top of the closest and tried shoving it to the side to get a better look. “These things don’t look natural.”

  Ayrion knelt across from Dakaran to get a closer look. “I agree. They look to have been created by the darkest of magic.”

  The prince stiffened at the mention of dark magic.

  Ayrion lifted his head. “Did you notice the way they seemed to be focused on you, Your Majesty?”

  “I did. But I was hoping I was the only one who noticed.”

  “There was definitely intelligence behind their actions, but it seemed to be driven by some sort of need.”

  “I don’t like the implication.”

  “Neither do I, Your Majesty.” Ayrion stood back to his feet and looked out across the meadow. “Neither do I.”

  Rhydan turned to his son. “You’re mighty quiet, Dakaran. What are your thoughts?”

  The prince didn’t raise his head. He slid his fingers down one side of the creature’s bloody claw. “I think we need to start allocating more resources into the White Tower’s efforts of ridding Aldor of magic.”

  Rhydan didn’t say anything. He merely grunted. Ayrion knew the king had little love for magic, but he had just as little love for the White Tower. The last thing any of them needed was for the crown to divvy out more resources to the Arch Chancellor.

  When his father didn’t respond, Dakaran added, “I think we are lucky to be alive.”

  Rhydan reached over and laid a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Truer words were never spoken.”

  Ayrion left the prince to his musings as he joined the king in checking on the ambassadors. Tolin and Asa were there as well, tending to their wounded.

  “Your Majesty.” Tolin bowed at the king’s approach. “We’ve sent riders in search of Ambassador Gyin. I also sent lancers back to Aramoor to procure wagons to carry our dead and wounded.”

  “Good thinking, Commander. I want to make for Aramoor as soon as possible. I won’t feel safe until we are back behind our walls once again.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “Oh, and assemble the men. I’d like to say a few words.”

  “Right away, Your Majesty. I’m sure they would appreciate that.”

  Ayrion shadowed the king. Everywhere they went, he could hear the nervous whispers of the men as they discussed the horrors of what they had seen.

  A good quarter-hour had passed before all were assembled and Rhydan stepped out to address them. He raised both his arms to gather their attention. “Soldiers of
Elondria,” he started with a regal air but then let it fall away with a heavy sigh. “Men . . . I want you to know that a grateful king stands before you today. A prouder king you could not find in all of the five kingdoms for the sacrifice and courage you have shown here. There are no finer warriors in all of Aldor than those of our Elondrian Lancers and High Guard, and I consider it my privilege and my honor to be counted among you.

  “Our loss today is great.” Rhydan paused to scan the battleground where many of their fallen still lay. “Many of you will bury friends, comrades, fellow soldiers in arms.” He took a deep breath. “But they were more than that. They were our brothers. There is a bond that is forged in battle that cannot be broken, and there is no time that union is felt more than when they are taken from us.”

  Rhydan’s disposition hardened, his words becoming more punctuated. “I do not know from where these creatures came, nor what we have yet to face, but this one thing I promise you. As long as we stand side by side those that seek the destruction of Elondria and its people will rue the day!”

  The men raised their fists to their chest in salute. Rhydan stared at them, many were barely standing, some only with the help of fellow armsmen. Ayrion could see the pain reflected in the king’s eyes. Ayrion knew that pain. He felt it. It was the pain of losing men under his command, men who trusted him, followed him, men who had given their lives for him.

  Rhydan bowed his head. “May the Creator gather our heroic fallen into his bosom. May He grant them rest from their labor and peace from their troubles, and may we strive to live our lives in a manner that will not bring them shame.”