Rise of the Serpent (Serpent's War Book 2)

by Jason Halstead

  “You believe him?” Lariki asked.

  Ramesh hesitated and then nodded. “I do. He used to tell stories of living on an island. That and I never met no man who had a hate for splisskin like he does.”

  Namitus put what the man had done out of his thoughts. He knew all too well the mistakes a young man could make. He’d made most of them himself. Most, but nothing quite on the level of what Gor had done. That was the sort of thing that would make a man hated far and wide.

  Then again, Gor had watched his kingdom fall before his eyes. He’d been driven out, banished, and lived a life of pure misery ever since. And, it seemed, he’d finally learned from his mistakes. Namitus nodded; Gor had proved himself to be an ally and a friend. He would stand by him. Namitus cleared his throat and said, “I’m trying real hard to match that kind of hate for the snake lovers, but if that’s what it requires me to do, I’ll settle for second place.”

  Lariki turned on Namitus. “Why do you hate them?”

  “Captured and tortured,” he said. “Almost killed, then healed and had it done all over again.”

  Jillystria gasped and pushed forward. “Allisandra and I endured the same treatment.”

  Namitus nodded. He didn’t want to think about a woman being stabbed, tortured, beaten, and then healed with the filthy magic of the splisskin over and over again. It was bad enough he had to endure it. He turned back to Lariki. “Will you take the work now?”

  Lariki frowned. “Let’s see how you fight first.”

  “Fight?” Namitus shook his head and sighed. Lariki didn’t have any real armor to speak of, which meant there was more to her than she was letting on. If she was feared and respected as much as she was, there was definitely a trick up her sleeve. He reached for his scimitar, hoping he hadn’t bitten off more than he could chew.

  “Not now and not between us, you fool,” she snapped. “Tonight, when the weres attack. Fight with us and if we live and if you don’t fall on your own swords, we’ll consider it.”

  Chapter 13

  “I can’t believe they’re making us guard the horses.” Allie pouted. The sun was disappearing below the horizon as she spoke.

  “She doesn’t know how we fight,” Namitus said. “Whether we’re skilled or not. And even if we are, they fight as a unit. We’d get in their way.”

  “I still don’t like it,” she said. “They let Gor join them.”

  “Gor used to fight with them,” Corian reminded her.

  “You do remember they’re fighting shapeshifters, right?” Amra asked. “The kind of monsters that steal people in the middle of the night and eat them?”

  Allie shrugged. “I’ve seen worse.”

  “Speaking of that, what did you see when Thork had you put your sword in his campfire?”

  Allie stiffened and glanced at him and then away. “Nothing…just the fire, I mean.”

  Namitus nodded. “That’s good.”

  Allie’s eyes jumped to his. “It is?”

  “Definitely. Thork’s a shaman of the saint of fear. His magic is terrifying.”

  “I don’t understand,” Amra asked. “Magic is scary, but how is his worse?”

  “Look no further than Gor. What did he do to the man?” Namitus asked.

  Allie shuddered. “Imprisoned him and set insects to eat him alive.”

  Amra shivered right along with Allie. “Okay, that’s bad,” she admitted.

  “And that’s nothing,” he said. “My first run-in with Thork’s magic came when I was helping the Blades retake Highpeak, a city on the edge of the Northern Divide. I’d been hurt by a mountain troll. Fool thing crushed my hip when he stomped on me. I drank a potion the troll made—Thork, mind you, not the mountain troll Kar and I killed—and it was nearly a fate worse than a smashed hip.”

  “What happened?” Amra breathed.

  “It felt like an angry badger was trying to chew its way out of my belly. Then another time my fingers seemed smashed and broken beyond repair. I’d never play my pipes or be able to use them again.”

  “Your fingers are fine,” Amra pointed out.

  He wiggled them for effect. “So they are. But using that troll’s magic makes you think the worst. It’s fear: you feel whatever it is that scares the pants off you. I’m not sure if it goes away on its own or if you have to find a way to control it and master it before it takes effect. Either way, those potions worked and I’m a better man for it. Grayer hair, mayhaps, but still alive.”

  “That’s why you said no to the potions!” Amra sighed.

  “Yes.” Namitus laughed. “I’d just as soon spare you that kind of blessing. But any magic that man uses is designed to leave a puddle under your feet.”

  Amra’s nose wrinkled in disgust. Allie nodded and looked thoughtful.

  “You did see something,” Namitus said.

  Allie kept her eyes on the darkening sunset as she said, “My father and grandfather were there. Fighting the splisskin together. I wanted to help but I couldn’t. I was in a cage and being pulled away. I saw them cut down and I couldn’t help.”

  “I’m sorry,” Namitus said. “His visions are never pleasant.”

  “I finally broke the door open on the cage, but it was too late,” she said.

  “How’d you do it?” Amra asked. “Break the cage, I mean.”

  Allie turned to look at her. “I remembered they were already dead. I was in a dream.”

  “Not a dream, though,” Namitus said. “A nightmare, perhaps, but not a dream. You broke free because of your strength of will.”

  Allie glanced at him and nodded. “I guess. I loved seeing them again. It was like they were really there. So close I could almost touch them. I miss them both so much.”

  “I can’t help with that,” Namitus said.

  She nodded and tightened her grip on the hilt of her sword. “I know. I have to make their deaths mean something. They wanted me to live, but that’s not enough. I have to stop the splisskin. I have to show them that what they did wasn’t right.”

  Namitus tilted his head. “You’re not talking about revenge, are you?”

  Allie glanced at him and then Amra. She shook her head. “Revenge won’t bring them back. Stopping the splisskin won’t either. Nothing will. Revenge is pointless.”

  “I’m at a loss,” Namitus admitted.

  “I have to stop them so they learn that what they did isn’t the way. Torturing and killing people doesn’t get them what they want; it only hurts people and makes them fight back.”

  The rogue nodded. “It takes kings a lifetime of mistakes to learn that lesson, and usually only on their deathbeds. You possess a wisdom far beyond your years.”

  “I could have told you that,” Amra mumbled.

  Allie turned her gaze on Amra. “I don’t want Namitus,” she stated. “I don’t want any man. Not now. Someday, maybe. But not now.”

  Amra’s eyes widened and she cast a glance at Namitus. Before he could react, Allie spoke again.

  “A year ago, maybe less, I was whining like a child who didn’t know any better. I wanted adventure and excitement. I wanted to get out and see the world. I didn’t want to learn to fight; I just wanted to get out and explore. Anything to keep from being tied down with a young husband and children. I wasn’t ready.”

  “I don’t think anyone is ever ready for children,” Namitus said.

  She nodded. “I was lazy and spoiled. We didn’t have riches, but we did have love and freedom. We never wanted for food or good company to share. Even when we fought, it was a pleasant thing that I knew meant we loved each other. Gildor taught me to fight, and then I made Bucknar teach me to do it better. I was determined to prove I could be someone like the women I heard about in stories.”

  Namitus chuckled. “I’ll be telling stories about you soon enough.”

  She shrugged and turned away. “I never asked for that. I just want to stop people from being hurt. Nobody deserves what I went through. Sorry, what we went through,” she said an
d turned to see Jillystria watching her from where she sat with her brother.

  “Far worse people than you have had songs written shouting their triumphs,” the rogue said.

  “That’s true enough,” Corian muttered. “I think some of them might even be elves.”

  Jilly snorted. “I prayed that someday you would realize that.”

  Corian dropped his gaze to the ground. He opened his mouth to respond but didn’t. Instead, he jerked his head up and turned, staring into the deepening dusk. The full moon was on the far side of the hill behind them and blocked by the tower.

  Namitus climbed to his feet from where he sat on a rock and did as the elf had. He peered into the night and tried to see what had roused the elf. The horses began to snort and whicker. Hooves stamped the ground as their mounts and the mounts of the mercenaries pawed and shifted.

  “To the north!” one of the Vultures on the northern side of the ruins shouted.

  “West!” another mercenary howled.

  Barely three seconds passed before the guards to the south bellowed, “South!”

  “That leaves east,” Namitus muttered.

  “There!” Corian hissed and pointed.

  Namitus followed his finger while he drew his scimitar. Before he could make out the shapes moving in the dark, one of the three mercenaries stationed in the buildings in front of them shouted, “East!”

  Corian fit an arrow to his bow and drew it back as cats the size of hunting dogs leapt and ran through the grass. He tracked one and let the arrow fly in the dark.

  “Don’t waste your—” Namitus began to scold but stopped when he saw the spotted cat tumble through the grass.

  “I won’t,” Corian said as he fit a second arrow to his string.

  The cat he aimed at lurched back to his feet and shook before stretching his neck around and snapping at the wound in his haunch. There was no arrow to grab; it had passed through the muscled leg and out the back.

  The werecats leapt over the crumbling wall or ran through the gaps. Corian’s next arrow hit a smaller cat in mid-air and sent it crashing to the ground. It flopped and rolled where it landed before lying still and panting in an attempt to catch the breath the lung shot had stolen from him.

  The Vultures sprang their trap and leapt out of the crumbling buildings. Swords, axes, teeth, and claws flashed in the starlight. The Vultures knocked them down and drove them back, herding the cats together on three sides. They snarled and leapt at the Vultures but the armored mercenaries were well trained and kept their feet.

  “They’re good,” Namitus muttered. He started to turn and look up the hill towards the tower where Lariki and her reinforcements waited when a movement caught his eye.

  The werecat that Corian had shot in the leg leapt out of the darkness and knocked one of the Vultures over. The warrior cried out and flailed, struggling to keep the snapping jaws away from his neck and face. The other weres reacted in an instant and rushed around the fallen man to flank the other two.

  Corian fired arrow after arrow into the ranks of the werecats. They stumbled and snarled, but remained focused on the Vultures. Even worse, the arrows struck true but failed to have a lasting effect.

  “What’s going on?” Corian snapped. “Why aren’t they falling?”

  “They are,” Namitus snapped and stared forward. “It’s the wrong side though.”

  “What are you doing?” Amra asked.

  “Saving their lives,” Namitus said. “Stay with the horses!”

  Amra stopped after taking her first step to follow him. She stared, openmouthed, and then glanced at the others.

  “Keep them safe,” Allie said as she hurried after Namitus.

  “Allie!” Corian snapped.

  She ignored him and rushed to catch up to Namitus.

  The rogue lifted his scimitar and timed his steps to leap towards a sleek black hunting cat that was pushing one of the two standing Vultures back. The panther turned his head and snarled at him before springing to his side. Directly at Namitus.

  The rogue leapt to the side, crossing in front of Allie. He twisted away from a slashing paw with black tipped claws that came close enough to his face he could see the dirt caked in them. His feet danced with him, stepping to the side and twisting him around in an attempt to flank the werepanther.

  The panther sensed his ploy and twisted the opposite way, throwing his haunch into Namitus and knocking him to the ground. Namitus scrambled and rolled, throwing his arm across in a wild swing to keep the panther back.

  A paw pressed down on his leg, the claws digging into his leg without breaking the leather. Namitus hissed and tried to twist and yank free. He budged his leg but couldn’t break free. He looked back, expecting to see glistening teeth. The panther’s jaw was open, but he wasn’t as close to Namitus’s throat as he expected. It seemed a trivial matter—the panther leaned forward and stretched his jaw.

  A green glow outlined the panther and lit up Allie on the panther’s other side. The panther’s mouth snapped shut on air and, as quick as it came, the glow disappeared. When the panther opened his mouth again, Namitus saw a subdued green glow deep in the cat’s throat. The panther staggered and fell, ripping himself free of Allie’s sword. The battlefield was set alight with the green glow again, giving the assorted werecats pause.

  Namitus recognized it for what it was: a weapon imbued with Jarook’s magic. He leapt to his feet and shouted, “Take it to them!” as he rushed the next cat, a larger tiger.

  The standing Vultures reacted to his cry and fought back, pushing the werecats and striking at them. Allie snapped her focus away from the glowing blade in her hands and rushed after Namitus, fighting at his side and using him to keep her flank safe while she attacked the werecats.

  The cats were beat back and caught between Namitus and Allie and the two mercenaries. They spun and bit, hissing and clawing at the air and even each other in their confusion. The rogue and his young warrior maiden companion cleaved into their ranks and cut them down one at a time until only the Vultures remained standing before them.

  Namitus turned and glanced at the green-lit battlefield. The glow faded rapidly until only the stars lit the ruins. As the shadows returned, the cats began to move, contorting and jerking.

  “Saints! What evil is this?” Namitus cried.

  The green light flared to life and let him see the slain beasts were reshaping themselves. By the time skin finished contorting and joints popping, the slain bodies of eight men littered the ground.

  “Minoc!” one of the standing Vultures cried. He rushed over to the fallen Vulture and rolled him over. Minoc waved a hand into the air, trying to fend him off.

  “Hold on, I’ll fetch a healer,” the man told him.

  Minoc’s response was a wet hiss.

  Namitus rushed over and stared down at the man. The green light faded again, plunging them into the darkness of night but not before Namitus saw the holes in the man’s throat that bled freely. He wouldn’t survive the wait, even if a healer was available.

  Namitus knelt down and dug into his pouch until his finger wrapped around a vial. He tugged it out and fumbled with the cap.

  “What are you doing?” the Vulture standing over him demanded.

  “Saving his life,” Namitus snapped. “Unless your healer is a priest who can get to this man in the next few seconds, he’s dead.”

  The mercenary hesitated and looked to the third man checking the naked bodies of the slain werecats. “Where’s Kaspin?”

  “In the tower, if he hasn’t been called out,” the other warrior said. “He’s no priest. Let the half-blood try. He saved our arses already.”

  The warrior next to Namitus grunted and gave him a nod.

  Namitus reached down and lifted the fallen man’s head with one hand. He held the vial to his lips and tipped it up. “Drink,” Namitus urged. “It will help.”

  The liquid poured over the man’s lips. He swallowed and found the strength to press his lips against
the narrow golden tube. He swallowed the remaining few drops and let his head fall back. Namitus softened the blow the man took with his hand and then recapped the empty vial. He pressed it into the man’s hand until his fingers wrapped around it.

  The wounded warrior gagged and coughed. He lurched onto his side and coughed harder, spitting out blood. He sucked in a ragged breath and coughed some more before sitting up on shaky arms and turning to stare at Namitus.

  “Close one,” Namitus said and smiled.

  The warrior blinked a few times and reached up to grab Namitus’s hand. He cleared his throat and spat again before saying, “I owe you my life.”

  Namitus clapped him on the arm. “Don’t thank me yet. Now you can fight and die again another time!”

  “Namitus!” Allie hissed.

  He spun and saw her pointing her sword into the sky. He noticed the stars flashing at first and then realized something was flying around the battlefield. Not just one something: five or six of them. They were the largest birds he’d ever seen. Monstrous giant bats? He shook his head, unable to explain what his eyes told him.

  “Come on,” Namitus snapped. He took off at a jog up the hill towards the tower without stopping to see if she was following. He’d moved less than a dozen steps before the green flare of her sword announced she was close behind him.

  “Look to the skies!” Namitus shouted as he came in sight of Lariki, Gor, and Ramesh. Two men with bows had climbed to the open second floor of the tower and were studying the battle below and occasionally firing an arrow into the attacking creatures.

  All three looked up just as one of the dark shapes swooped down and slammed into one of the archers. Powerful wings beat and picked the stunned archer up. Flight was impossible with such a heavy load, but the bird managed to pick him up nearly a dozen feet before he ran out of momentum and strength. It was enough.

  The archer’s scream ended as he dropped and fell more than thirty feet down the side of the hill. The bird swooped down and flapped his wings, lifting back into the sky again. An arrow passed behind him from the other archer without even clipping a tail feather.