Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3

by Mark E. Cooper

  “Come on! What are you waiting for? Kill me then!”

  The voice made him haul hard on the reins. “Darlinia!”

  He savagely yanked his horse’s head around and spurred toward his friend. She was hurt! She stood amidst a pile of legion dead waiting to die. All around her were legionnaires. She was completely cut off from her people. Her left arm hung limply at her side pouring blood onto the grass.

  “Yeahhhh!” Lorcan screamed. “Yeahhhh!”

  The man in his path dove aside at the last moment and Lorcan’s dagger sailed through empty air. He cursed the loss, but he had plenty of daggers. Friends were far more precious. He leaned out for the saddle and took Darlinia’s arm as he galloped by.

  “AEiii!” she screamed as she was yanked off her feet and dragged by the side of Lorcan’s horse by her broken arm. She bit through her lip against the pain, but it was far too great and she screamed again. “AEiiiiiiiiii!”

  Lorcan blotted the noise from his thoughts as he tried to navigate a way through the knot of struggling and dying men all about him. He held tight and even managed to drag her still screaming in pain over his saddle in front of him. Screams were good. It meant she was still alive to feel the pain.

  The Hasians were closing ranks as Keverin’s attack bit hard. Lorcan was fast running out of options. He turned his horse once more and made a run for the last gap as it began to close. He was still too far away when the fireball arrived. He felt the searing heat flash over him as the fireball bounced back into the air and came down somewhere behind him. Another flew over and then another on their way to killing legionnaires or sorcerers. He didn’t care which it was as long as they were not aimed at him.

  Suddenly he was airborne.

  He flew over his horse’s head with his arms waving vainly in the air like a swimmer desperate to reach shore. He tried to tuck his head and roll with the fall, but there were too many bodies lying strewn over the ground. He crashed face first into the bloody pile. He climbed shakily to his feet when as he realised he was still alive and found Darlinia crawling dazed and bloody back toward the Hasians.

  “Not that way!” he hissed and hoisted her back to her feet.

  She wobbled as Lorcan half dragged half marched her away from the site of her clan’s defeat. Already it was obvious they had lost this battle. He needed to get her to a shamen. She was losing a lot of blood where the bone of her arm poked through her flesh. Lorcan took a moment to rip a strip from the hem of his tunic and bind the arm above the wound. With satisfaction he watched the blood slow.

  “Did we win?” Darlinia mumbled drunkenly.

  He looked back to find Keverin fighting for his life. Even as he turned to go back, the lord fell under a tide of legionnaires and with him his banner.

  “No,” Lorcan whispered as tears streamed over his cheeks. “We lost.”

  * * *

  “What are you waiting for you fool?” Wotan spat quietly watching the battle in his mirror. “By the God strike her!”

  The mirror clearly showed the battle disintegrating into a dangerous mess, but worse than that was Julia. She had picked off two of his sorcerers before they thought to link and ward themselves. That was bad enough, but they hadn’t struck back!

  “Get me Odelyn,” he snarled at Magar. Magar understood his anger and did as he was bid without a word. “Sorry. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

  “Odelyn is a dangerous fool, Wotan. You should have killed him aboard ship.”

  “I know, but he hadn’t done anything wrong then. He was just annoying. I can’t kill everyone who annoys me. No one would tell me the truth if I did.”

  Magar shrugged and handed the mirror over.

  “I’m a little busy at the moment, Wotan,” Odelyn said condescendingly. “I have a battle to fight you know.”

  Wotan’s lip curled. “Yes I do know, and if you don’t get on with it you’ll wish you were never born!”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  Wotan calmed and in a deadly voice told Odelyn exactly what he meant and how he would die. “Don’t test me, Odelyn. Just don’t! If you don’t follow my orders to the letter I will kill you an inch at a time. You think me weak? I will show you what I am! Kill her now, or I will kill you!”

  “I’m lead mage for this battle,” Odelyn said angrily.

  Wotan heard the words not said. Odelyn thought he should be lead mage of the entire campaign. The fool had always felt cheated. Being younger and weaker than him, Wotan could hardly blame the man for that feeling, but that didn’t change things. He was lead mage, not Odelyn and whether Odelyn liked it or not he would obey or die!

  “I am ordering you to strike Julia now! You all know my orders concerning her. If you don’t do it and survive her wrath, I swear by the God you won’t survive mine!” he roared and broke the connection.

  Magar silently picked up the mirror and handed it back to its owner who quickly contacted his opposite number at the battle.

  Wotan pulled his own mirror close and studied the battlefield. Nothing had changed. Julia had joined her two friends now and seemed to be discussing what to do. What could they do? Nothing Wotan was sure—almost sure. Julia had a way of upsetting plans without half trying, but when she did try… he couldn’t afford to lose eighty sorcerers! He only had two hundred altogether. She didn’t have anything close to the power needed to win against that many of his people. He didn’t think she did. No, it wasn’t possible. Only the God could have that kind of power. She could be beaten and would be when Odelyn got off his backside and acted.

  * * *

  “We need a chief,” Julia said. “We need a chief to order a retreat. This battle will see the end of us all if we don’t back off!”

  Mathius nodded. “What’s to stop them advancing as we flee?”

  “I’ll think of something.”

  Mathius and Lucius were sceptical but they had nothing better to offer.

  “I saw Kornel go down,” she continued. “Tobiah is dead. What of Mavra and Allard?”

  “Haven’t seen them since this started,” Mathius said. “We could walk in there and tell them to retreat.”

  “Will they listen?”

  “I doubt it, but what else is there?”

  What else indeed? Julia nodded and they began walking into the chaos of sword wielding men. This was almost like old times for her and Mathius. They had walked into danger like this once before. Of course the gap had kept the Hasians away from them, but it felt similar.

  “I was on the receiving end that time,” Lucius mused as he blasted the legionnaires with fire.

  Julia kept up a constant attack as did Mathius but the damage they did was minuscule in the grand scheme of things. “This must be hard on you Lucius,” she said as she killed a sergeant in the legions who had attempted to breach the ward.

  “You might say so,” Lucius agreed with a grimace, but he did not stop his attacks. “These are my people. They follow Mortain because that is the way things are. None of these men deserves death, but then neither do the clan warriors. Ironic is it not?”

  Ironic? Sickening more like. They found Mavra of Bear Clan first. He was very dead. They moved on and found Kornel and Haldis next. Haldis was dead with a dagger in the back, but Kornel was alive—barely. Julia quickly lifted the ward and dropped it over the chief so she might try to heal him. She grimaced at the white of bone showing where a sword cut had all but severed his leg. How he had survived such an injury she did not know or care. All that mattered now was that he live to order the retreat. She healed what she could but the leg was almost severed. Would it be best to sever it all the way or try to heal the damage? She questioned Lucius but he didn’t know and was too busy killing legionnaires to think about it. She pushed the limb into place grimacing at the dead feel of it. She made sure the ends of the bone were touching and that the leather of his leggings was clear. She prayed that it would work then set about healing the limb. Straight away there was resistance. The leg was not complet
ely dead yet, but it had been well on its way. No blood to the cells meant death and decay, but at least it wasn’t completely severed. She tried harder and it responded slowly, she watched in excitement as the wound healed and the bone knit.

  “Done,” Julia said and tried to wake Kornel.

  “It worked?” Lucius said in surprise.

  “Whether he’ll be able to use it I don’t know. It resisted the healing, but it’s still alive—we’ll see.”

  Kornel opened his eyes and cried out. He had seen his son’s dead eyes looking at him.

  “Kornel!” Julia shouted over his keening. “For the love of God man there’s no time for that!”

  “Oh my boy, my boy!”

  “I know, but more boys are dying. Get up and do something. Tobiah is dead, so are the other chiefs. You have to call retreat before we lose everything!”

  “Retreat…” he glared around at the piles of dead. “Never! I’ll kill them all!”

  Julia couldn’t help herself. She punched him as hard as she could. The pain in her hand was excruciating, but her fury overrode it a moment later. Kornel was holding his jaw in shock. Julia shook her hand; it was already swelling and she thought one of the knuckles was broken. It hurt like crazy.

  “Look around you fool! We are losing! Look at what your precious Tobiah has done, just look!” she screamed into his face and pointed at Haldis and then at another clansmen then another and another.

  Kornel hid his eyes from the sight, but then he looked at his son again. He reached to touch his boy, but even that was denied him when his fingers encountered the ward. He climbed to his feet but one step later and he was down again.

  “My leg, I can’t feel my leg,” Kornel hissed hammering the useless thing with a fist.

  “That will do no good, it’s not asleep. It was almost severed and I reattached it. What you have is the best you will get.”

  “I can’t stand?”

  “Try, try hard!” Julia said.

  Kornel climbed to his feet and found if he favoured the leg he could stand and even walk a little. “A horse, get me to a horse. I can still be a man in the saddle.”

  She nodded and blasted a huge hole in the ranks of legionnaires pushing at the ward. She grimly moved forward into the space she had created while Lucius and Mathius kept up a constant barrage with fire. Twice more she blasted her way through until finally encountering cavalry again. She reached out with her magic and plucked a man out of the saddle so that Kornel might mount.

  “Tobiah is dead!” Kornel yelled as he struggled up onto the horse. “Retreat! Tobiah is dead! Retreat!”

  A great cry of despair arose as the retreat was ordered, but Julia felt the difference immediately. The struggle eased as warriors disengaged and pulled back.

  “Julia, up behind me woman!” Kornel said reaching for her but she stepped back.

  “Lead the clans out of here, Kornel.”

  Kornel looked to Mathius and Lucius but received nothing from them but hard eyed stares. He nodded and urged his horse out of the press chopping at legionnaires as he went.

  “Julia?”

  She looked at Mathius sadly. “I saw Brian go down. I want to find him and Keverin.”

  “You don’t know—”

  “Either way,” she said cutting Mathius off before he could say it.

  As the clans pulled back the cornets blared among the legions. The response was immediate. Legionnaires hefted wounded comrades and ran back to their own lines leaving the heaps of dead in their wake. Julia and her three friends stood exposed in the middle of the slaughter. Lucius mumbled that now would be the time, but again the sorcerers seemed uninterested in attacking.

  The ward hummed and crackled as they moved among the bodies searching for friends that still lived. Julia’s thoughts were far away from battle now as she used magic to toss legionnaires out of her way to find clansmen alive but buried under the bodies. She healed those she could and they stumbled away to find Kornel with tears running down their faces.

  The field of sorrows.

  A fitting name for this place. She stopped and looked around at the piles of meat that had been her friends not long ago. The clans had lost this battle; there could be no doubt. Less than a quarter of the dead were legionnaires—their armour had saved them, but the clans did not have armour and had paid dearly for the lack. Looked at one way it was amazing the warriors had killed as many as they had, looked at another it was a complete disaster. Wolf Clan had gone the way of Dragon Clan here today. Less than three in ten had survived. Bear and Eagle Clans had come out lightest with their late entry into the battle. Tobiah’s Wolves had taken the brunt, but Julia saw the familiar swirling pattern on the backs of all too many dead warriors and knew her clan had been hurt badly.

  They found Brian eventually. He didn’t appear injured at all! She looked at him with her mage sight and groaned, he was alive but he had been hit upon his helmet. Head injuries were serious; many times she had tried and failed to heal this kind of thing.

  “I won’t fail this time!” Julia growled as she attacked the purple stain in his aura.

  Being linked had its advantages. The purple was wiped out instantly and Brian blazed up white as she cleaned the yellow away, but he did not wake. Her tears ran and dripped onto to his dear face as she wept for her friend… all her friends.

  “He won’t wake up, Lucius. He’s like Renard.”

  “Not so,” Mathius said sadly. “Renard was burned out. He wasn’t in one of your comas.”

  It wasn’t her coma, but Julia knew what he meant. She had taught Lucius and Mathius all she could about healing, and what she knew from her old world. She knew quite a lot, common sense and general knowledge she supposed it was really, about medicine and healing. Simple things like sepsis, blood transfusions, and appendicitis, but coma wasn’t a simple thing in any world.

  “I’ll carry him back,” she said in defeat. She wasn’t willing to leave him in all this mess and misery.

  Lucius nodded as she hefted Brian with magic and all three began walking back to Denpasser. She prayed for her friend as she walked amongst the dead, it was all she had to offer now. She prayed for him to wake, she prayed for her dead friends, but most of all she prayed that Keverin lived.

  * * *

  Shelim dismounted and ran with Nyx trailing behind. All the shamen did the same without needing to be told. They had to reach the battle before it was too late.

  Julia’s words did have the desired effect on Kerrion. Immediately after her argument with him, he had called a meeting and told them he was going to war. Larn had immediately stood in support and every other shaman had roared in approval. The rush to the horses had the women and children running in alarm to see what was happening but there hadn’t been time for questions. As a result he was afraid many of those left behind feared the worse, but better that than the worst actually happening.

  Shelim stopped and studied his mirror again. They had to turn to the east slightly. He waved in that direction then mounted Nyx and pushed her to a gallop. He knew this area intimately. He had lived at Denpasser for four seasons during his training, and had ridden this far many times in his circuit around Denpasser. He had no qualms about pushing Nyx to her limit. Darnath was sticking to his side, and even Kerrion had not fallen back. Kerrion was over a hundred years old. Shelim hoped he was as good at sixty as Kerrion was at a hundred!

  “How far?” Darnath shouted into the wind of their passage.

  “Two leagues at most!” Shelim shouted. “We should see it any time!”

  “We are too late my boy!” Kerrion said. “We would have been too late leaving with Julia. She was right all along. Tobiah will destroy us all with his foolishness!”

  Shelim agreed. He should have counselled Mazel to challenge Tobiah, but at the time unity seemed more important. How he cursed himself for not going the other route. The one he had taken now seemed worse than folly; it seemed to him the coward’s way. He groaned when the battlefield cam
e into sight. They were too late! Thousands of dead warriors and outclanners lay in tumbled heaps upon the ground.

  “We have lost,” Kerrion whispered in shock. He had feared it, but had not truly believed until now.

  “Not yet,” Darnath said as they rode to join the survivors. “We can hit them and—”

  “He doesn’t mean that,” he said. “There were three clans here. Now there is less than one. I see Kornel, but where are his warriors?”

  All three looked at the piles of dead and knew. The Wolves were destroyed.

  “Who’s that?” Darnath said shading his eyes. “It’s Julia!”

  “What’s she doing?” Shelim said as he pulled up and dismounted.

  “Healing the injured. I’ll go help.”

  “Wait Darnath, we’ll all go, but let me talk to Kornel first,” Shelim said not noticing Kerrion’s small smile as he took charge.

  Shelim pushed his way through the warriors ignoring their questions and came to Kornel’s horse. The chief was stony faced as he looked upon the death of his honour. With his warriors gone he was chief of women and children now, not warriors.

  “What are you waiting for?” Shelim said and ignored the anger beating at him from the crowds.

  “For Julia to find her man. When she’s done with that, Kadar will lead you all home and I will attack,” Kornel said in a dead voice.

  “Fool!” Shelim spat imitating Kerrion at his worst.

  “…get away with that—”

  “…talking to a chief not his apprentice!”

  “…cut him down—”

  “Fool I said!” he shouted over the angry voices. “This is one battle not the entire war! Do you give up a feud after one raid? No! You attack again and again until you win!”

  “We can’t win here,” Kornel said looking down at him.

  “Not here. You need all the clans and every shaman to beat these outclanners. I say we should—” Shelim broke off as Darnath burst through the crowd.