It was almost with a feeling of relief when he saw that the soldiers bearing down on them were clad in the typical armor of Angrääl. The native barbarians also fighting for the Reborn King wore animal skins and carried giant axes or swords as long as a man. Their savagery had already gained them a fearsome reputation.
His guard took the brunt of the assault. The sound of steel clashing on steel, together with the crazed shouting of the combatants, combined to create a deafening demonic symphony. Hard as Lousis' guard fought, it wasn't long before two enemy soldiers slipped through the line and ran straight for the king.
He gripped his sword and broadened his stance. The first attacker to reach him swung his blade in a high arc, threatening to split him in twain. But it was a clumsy movement. Lousis had time to step aside and ram his shoulder into the man, sending him stumbling to the ground. Without hesitation, the king then crouched low and was just in time to thrust his sword straight into the second onrushing attacker’s gullet.
He spun to finish off the first soldier, but one of his own men had already stepped back and plunged a knife into his neck. The king gave the guard a quick nod of thanks, but there was no time for him to return the gesture. Inch by inch they were losing ground. Three more Angrääl soldiers forced their way through and came after Lousis.
Furiously, the king fought to keep them at bay. The flashing of blades and loud grunting of men straining every sinew to gain an advantage was growing ever more intense. Again and again the enemy pressed Lousis back, several times finding his flesh and opening shallow wounds.
Using his superior experience and sheer adrenaline to outmaneuver his foes, he did his best to ensure that only one soldier at a time could get through to him on the rock strewn ground, and then only with the opportunity to attack directly from the front. This tactic was working for now, though he knew they would find a way of getting behind him soon enough. Either that, or more of them would break through and simply overwhelm him. Continuing like this was merely delaying the inevitable.
Well, I’ll take at least some of them with me, he told himself.
Abandoning all further attempts at mere defense, Lousis lunged forward, slashing down hard. There was a moment of grim satisfaction when his blade cut deep into an enemy thigh, but almost immediately after that, a loud hiss of pain escaped his mouth as cruel steel pierced his armor and cut into his ribs. This had been expected though. Fighting through the pain, he pushed himself further forward. The soldier who had struck him was now too close to use his sword again and was scrambling back. In his haste, he stumbled on a small rock. This was all the invitation Lousis needed. His blade swiftly took the man's head.
In a flash, the third enemy moved in, stabbing hard at Lousis' chest. But fortune was with the king. He twisted sideways, and the point of the blade merely glanced off his breastplate. His armored elbow then shot out and smashed into his attacker's mouth, sending blood and teeth flying. Roaring with battle lust, he drew his dagger and sank it into the soldier's sword arm.
He glanced over his shoulder to see where the first man he had wounded was, only to find that he had now backed away, to be replaced by five more Angrääl troops racing into the attack.
Snarling, Lousis removed the head of the third soldier while he was still staggering about and clutching at his profusely bleeding sword arm. He then glared at the five new aggressors closing in on him. So ends King Lousis, he thought. He began to laugh. I should have never made it this far anyway. Raising his sword high, he charged forward to meet his fate, the name of his queen springing forth loud and clear.
“Selena!”
He had taken only a few paces when searing heat suddenly hit Lousis dead in the face, bringing him to an abrupt halt. Just ahead, flames exploded from the earth, engulfing all five of the advancing Angrääl soldiers and yet more of the enemy behind them. Their screams of agony overcame even the desperate clamor of battle. Some victims began running wildly around in circles, while others were rolling on the ground in futile attempts to extinguish the flames.
Gasping from his exertions, Lousis scanned the area. It took him a moment, but eventually he spotted Mohanisi walking toward him.
“Thank you,” he said.
“Do not thank me yet,” Mohanisi replied. “The enemy is still at our back. The left flank is holding, and the desert elves are reinforcing the right. But the day is far from over. Luckily, they have not yet unleashed their explosive bolts, but I suspect they do not want to risk killing too many of their own men. Once we re-establish the lines, that may change.”
Lousis could see several deep gashes in the elf’s armor, but thankfully no blood. “Suggestions?” he asked.
“First of all, I need to get you clear of the battle.” He looked to where the king’s guard were still fighting. Some had been killed, but the ball of fire had taken a deal of the spirit from the Angrääl soldiers. They were now giving ground.
“Help them,” ordered the king. “They risk their lives to protect me.”
Mohanisi thought to object, but could see that Lousis was determined. Holding out his hand, he caused a threatening wall of flames to hover immediately above the battling men. This terrified the enemy still more, driving them back at an even faster rate. In a flash, Mohanisi made the fire descend, so creating a barrier between the guard and the Dark Knight's soldiers.
“Protect your king!” he shouted.
The guard responded immediately and ran toward their monarch. Once they reached Lousis, Mohanisi led them to the rear. As they moved along, Lousis could see desert elves pouring in from the left and center.
“If they can clear out the enemy and reform the lines, we will last the day,” Mohanisi remarked. “But we cannot sustain many more assaults.”
The healing tents and the area surrounding them had not been breached. For this mercy at least, the king was grateful. “They surprised us,” he said. “But that will not happen again.”
The only people within this relatively calm area were the wounded and the healers. All others were battling in the fray. Guilt gripped Lousis. He should be fighting with his people.
“You must stay alive,” insisted Mohanisi, as if hearing his thoughts. “Your soldiers need you.” He gave the king a sideways grin. “And I promised your wife that you would return safely.”
Very little news came from the lines, but as dusk approached, the stream of wounded began to significantly lessen. Once Mohanisi was confident that the enemy would not again threaten the rear, he left to join the healers. He tried to persuade Lousis to go with him, but the king flat out refused. “I am not so hurt that I need healing,” he stated emphatically. “If I cannot fight, I will at least be here in open view so that my people know I am still with them.”
The explosions Lousis was dreading to hear, never came. They had some of their own explosive bolts that had been captured in both the west and in Baltria, but the supply was fairly limited. It had been decided that they would only be used as a means to cover their retreat, should it come to that.
As the sun sank below the horizon, the sounds of battle faded away to virtually nothing. Only the cries of the injured and laments of those mourning the fallen could be heard above the howling of the stiff north wind.
Lousis was greatly relieved when he at first spotted Lord Chiron riding in from the front. But his relief quickly turned to concern on realizing that the elf had been badly hurt. His left leg was soaked with blood that still seeping from a heavy wound to his lower body. Also, his arm on the opposite side was hanging limply down.
“A hard day,” called Chiron. His forced smile turned into a grimace when he pulled on the reins with one hand to halt his horse. “Perhaps tomorrow will be better.”
“Go to the healers,” commanded Lousis. “Or you may not see tomorrow.”
Chiron looked down at his bloody trousers. “Oh, it’s not as bad as it looks. A misstep on my part. I should look after my people.”
Lousis’ face hardened. “You will do a
s I say. If you don’t, I will send for Lady Bellisia. I’m certain she will have a way of convincing you.”
Chiron sighed. “As you wish, Your Highness.” He pointed to Lousis' own injuries. “But you will accompany me. You have neglected yourself long enough.”
“Very well.”
Lousis grabbed the halter of Chiron’s horse and led it toward the healers. On approaching, they saw Bellisia standing squarely in front of the biggest tent, one hand planted on her hip, the other wrapped firmly around her staff.
“It looks as though she’s been waiting for us,” remarked Chiron with a boyish smile. “I think I will tell her that you would not allow me to come earlier.”
Lousis laughed. “So you would have me suffer her wrath alone? And I thought you were my friend.”
“Even friendship has its limits.”
Both men burst into laughter.
“And what is there to be so cheerful about?” Bellisia scolded. She motioned for two attendants to help Chiron down from his saddle.
“We live to fight again,” Lousis replied, though with less humor. “For now, that is enough.”
Ignoring his words, she quickly examined them both. “Take Lord Chiron inside. I can treat King Lousis here.”
“I will join you when I can,” said Chiron as the attendants led him away.
Knowing that she needed to conserve her strength as much as possible, Bellisia did not attempt to heal Lousis completely. However, she did do enough to close up his wounds and stop any further bleeding. Lousis thanked her and retired to his tent.
Once there, he stripped off his armor and put on a fresh shirt and pants. Shortly after that, just as he sat down at a small table, his commanders began to report in. The enemy had pulled back the moment the sun started to set. It was assumed they didn’t want to engage elf fighters in the dark and lose their advantage. The right flank, once reinforced, had held fast and even gained ground, but the losses were terrible.
It was fully dark when Chiron returned from the healers. He looked remarkably restored, and had fully recovered the use of his right arm. As soon as he sat down, he produced a flask of brandy and pushed it across the table.
“A final drink for a doomed man?” joked Lousis.
“Maybe,” he replied. “But then again, we might live one more day.”
Lousis took a long drink. The sweet taste of the elf brandy soothed his parched throat and relaxed his tense muscles. “If the only thing we learn from your people is how to make this, I would be happy.” He handed the flask back. “And as you think we might live to see another day, I hope you have more of it.”
Chiron took a drink and sighed. “Only enough for one more night, I’m afraid.”
“Then survive we must.”
After they had finished the brandy, Chiron could see that his friend was weary and in need of rest. He rose to excuse himself, but just as he was about to leave, a messenger entered and handed the king a folded parchment. As Lousis read, his face became dour.
“The enemy commander wishes to speak with me,” he said.
“Where?” asked Chiron.
“Here. He asks if I will grant him safe conduct to and from our camp.”
“He cannot be serious.”
“It would appear that he is.” He handed Chiron the note.
After reading it carefully, the elf elder tossed it onto the table. “It must be a ploy. More than likely he will send an assassin in his stead.”
Lousis' eyes narrowed “I doubt it. He would know that I am well protected, and will take extra precautions. Besides, killing me under a flag of truce could possibly galvanize the soldiers and make the fight that much harder for him.”
“Then why?”
“I think he just wants to see my face before he destroys me.”
Chiron huffed a laugh. “You think it is so simple?”
“I do,” he affirmed. “And that tells me much about who we fight.”
“What does it tell you?”
“That our enemy is certain he will win tomorrow’s battle.”
“Arrogance!” spat Chiron.
Lousis shook his head. “No. Confidence.”
He wrote a reply and then ordered a small pavilion to be erected at the front line. Quickly, he cleaned up and donned his armor and sword once more. His guards were waiting outside when he left to meet the enemy commander.
He didn’t need to wait long. While sitting at a table under the pavilion, he spotted the silhouette of a lone horseman approaching across the moonlit field. The man rode tall and proud in the saddle with the skillful ease of a seasoned soldier.
“What can you see?” Lousis asked. Chiron was standing behind him, together with Bevaris and Lord Brasley Amnadon. His guard completely surrounded them.
“He definitely rides alone,” Chiron responded. “And he looks to be unarmed.”
Lousis rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Brave,” he muttered. “Very brave.”
When the rider dismounted, Lousis could see that he wore a gold circlet on his brow that matched his flaxen hair. This, combined with resplendent black armor and his exceptionally broad shoulders, gave him a truly regal appearance. Though noticeably weaponless, the king's guard still stood in his path and motioned for him to raise his arms. The man politely complied while the guards searched him thoroughly.
“He is unarmed, Your Highness,” announced the guard.
The man bowed low. “I am Prince Lanmore, heir to the throne of Angrääl and general of all the armies of the Reborn King.”
Lousis bowed in return. “I am King Lousis of Althetas. Beside me is Lord Chiron, Lord Amnadon, who is Commander of the Western Armies, and Bevaris, Knight of Amon Dähl. I bid you welcome.” He gestured to the chair that had been placed for their visitor. “Please sit.”
Lanmore did as bidden and folded his hands on the table.
“So what is it you wish to discuss?” Lousis asked.
“Your surrender of course,” he replied, as though Lousis should have been well aware of this already.
Lousis laughed. “Then you have wasted your time coming here. I see no need for surrender. Just because you gained a temporary advantage through surprise does not mean you have won the war.”
Lanmore heaved a sigh. “I implore you to reconsider. You are vastly outnumbered, far from home, and with no hope of reinforcements. Must more die for this foolish campaign? And even if you were to win the day, you could never take Kratis. Please stop this madness and go home.”
“Did your king stop when he invaded my lands?” snapped Lousis. “Did he stop when he murdered my people and burned our cities?”
“That was an unfortunate misunderstanding,” he replied. “And one for which the Reborn King would like to make amends.”
Lousis could barely suppress his rage. “A misunderstanding you say? Thousands of men, women and children are dead, and you call it a misunderstanding?”
“Of course,” Lanmore replied. His tone was not smug: rather it was sincere and self-assured. “Most war comes from misunderstanding. Surely a wise ruler such as yourself knows this. My king sought only to liberate the west from the tyranny of Darshan. Nothing more.”
“Darshan is not our enemy,” said Lousis. “Your master is. Darshan did not invade the kingdoms of the west. That was the work of the Reborn King. No one else!”
“And now he sees that he was mistaken and only wishes to make peace with you.” Lanmore's face suddenly darkened. “But should you continue on your present path, peace will become impossible.”
Lousis scrutinized the man for a long moment. He was confident…yes...but also somehow uncomfortable. Why? Why would a man of such stature and position seem so uneasy with himself? Then it came to him. A sly smile upturned the corners of the king's mouth. He leveled his gaze. “Let us not continue with empty conversation. The deceptive words of a noble are ill-suited to a man such as you. I do not know you personally, but I do know a real prince when I see one.”
He leaned back
and cocked his head. “You are no prince. A general and talented leader, I have no doubt. But you lack the nuance of true nobility.” He could see that this was angering Lanmore. Good. He held up his hand. “Please do not misunderstand me. I congratulate you on your elevation. But if you would permit me to pass on some friendly advice?”
Lanmore regained his composure and nodded. “Of course. I am always in need of wisdom. Particularly from a king of your experience and…reputation.”
Lousis smiled. “Do not mince words and try to illicit anger from me. Such banter is not becoming of a fighting man. You came here to face your enemy before battle, and that is all. A brave act, granted. But it is the act of a warrior, not a prince.” He allowed his words to sink in for a moment. “A noble would never put himself in direct peril unless there was no other choice. And if I were to accept your terms, you would allow us to withdraw to your borders, but no further than that. Once there, you would move swiftly to crush us.”
“You are very perceptive,” Lanmore said. “And you are correct in saying that I am ill-suited to my station. I am not a noble…like you. But the Reborn King has seen fit to grant me status and power, and I will see that his confidence is well-placed.” He chuckled softly. “And I did not expect you to accept surrender. As you said, I only wished to meet with you so that I would know the face of my enemy.”
“And for that I am grateful,” said Lousis.
The two men locked eyes for several seconds.
“Then I believe we have concluded our business,” Lanmore said at last. He stood and bowed. Lousis did the same. “When the dawn comes, I will slaughter your army. But know that as I do so, I hold you in high regard. Truly, I wish circumstances would allow your survival. The world will be diminished once you are gone.”
“I thank you,” said Lousis. “But I am not ready to depart this life just yet.”
Without another word, Lanmore turned and mounted his horse. Lousis watched as he disappeared into the night.
“Should we have allowed him to leave?” asked Bevaris.
“I think there is nothing we could have done to stop him,” Chiron remarked. “He possesses power that, as a human, you may not sense. But I can. The Reborn King has touched his spirit.”
The Reborn King (Book Six) Page 21