Silverblade wasn’t given the chance to reply. Just then, General Stonemantle entered the clearing, a surprisingly small group of riders following behind.
This group must have ridden ahead of the main army. To disguise their approach with the hope of catching the Elementals unaware? Likely. The acolytes seemed to like bloodbaths.
Silverblade planned to give them one. By the end of this day, his mother would be avenged and he would allow himself to mourn at last. But not just yet.
If he had to sit and wait, acting like glorified bait to allow the acolytes to get close enough so Beatrice and Ashayna could use their powers to devastating effect, he would exercise patience.
The leaders of the Twelve, the councilors, and both the lupwyn and phoenix queens had hammered out a battle plan. As the leaders of the Twelve, Ashayna and Crown Prince Sorntar would hunt out Lord Master Trensler and neutralize him. If the acolyte leader was actually on the field of battle. Silverblade had his doubts. There had been no word of Trensler’s exact whereabouts for days now.
Regardless, Silverblade had his own target. He’d flat-out told the others that Ironsmith was his. Beatrice had agreed graciously to let him have that particular acolyte, as long as the others left her some acolytes to destroy.
Later, he and Beatrice had spoken of this amongst themselves. If General Stonemantle had to be dealt with, one or both of them together would see to it. They would spare the general’s daughters that task. Beatrice would execute and he would run interference should either of the Stonemantle sisters try to interfere out of love for their father.
He hoped it didn’t come to that, but knew it likely already had since the general was riding toward them in the company of acolytes.
*****
At last, a small group of a dozen soldiers on horseback arrived. General Stonemantle rode in the lead, but Silverblade could sense the acolytes behind him. He narrowed his gaze and expanded his senses, seeking Acolyte Ironsmith’s scent.
Ah. His prey was presently riding third in line, if he wasn’t mistaken. Good.
They stopped at the edge of the clearing and took in the sight of Silverblade and the others waiting by the river. General Stonemantle urged his mount back into motion after a moment, seeming calm, his expression giving nothing away. Surprisingly, there was no hint of deceit upon his scent. Silverblade reached deeper, but still couldn’t detect the acolytes’ taint upon this human. Uncertainty fluttered at the edge of his mind.
And where was Captain Nurrowford?
Was the general still in possession of his free will? But that made no sense. The only certainty was that there was some treachery afoot. But was it one of the general’s devising or the acolytes’ master?
He glanced sideways at Beatrice to see her scrunch her brows together. After a moment, she looked up at him questioningly. He didn’t have the answer, either. He gave her the slightest shake of his head.
They would wait for the acolytes.
The general, his senior officers, and their military escort left their horses at the tree line and made their way over to the river bank where the Elementals waited.
When he reached them, he looked Crown Prince Sorntar up and down. “In truth, I don’t care which magic wielders control these lands. Be it acolytes or Elementals, it matters little to me. All I care about is getting my daughters back. Surrender them to me peacefully and we will leave you in peace. The acolytes have agreed to abide by the terms you set out in the peace treaty between River’s Divide and the Elementals.”
This particular turn of events was not one Silverblade had visualized. Yet he thought the general was intelligent enough to know and recognize the danger that the acolytes represented—not just to the Elementals, but to the humans as well.
Apparently, he’d been wrong. It wasn’t the first time.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Beatrice held her breath and called on her death magic. Tendrils of black magic flickered to life between her fingers. Barely noticeable to the naked eye, they crawled across the back of her hand and snaked around her wrist, slowly creeping higher up her arm.
She watched and waited, surprised by General Stonemantle’s betrayal. Silverblade’s one look had said he didn’t trust it, either. Her healer’s magic flickered to life, mixing in with the death magic. Now that she’d bonded with the pack, something had snapped into place inside her and she now possessed a better mastery of her magic. The two powers complemented each other instead of fighting for control of her body. Her physical senses flared stronger along with her magic.
Scanning General Stonemantle a second time, she still did not see any obvious taint from the acolytes. There was something more at play here. She’d also noted one key player was missing—Lord Master Trensler.
While she’d been studying General Stonemantle and his small group of soldiers, the rest of the vanguard arrived, making their way through the forest where they spread out. Likely thinking they were flanking her own small group.
Her own Larnkin felt tension run through the other Elementals. The lupwyns and the santhyrians in the woods remained hidden, but ready. Phoenix, high up in the canopy, awaited the signal to attack.
‘Soon,’ her magic whispered to the other Larnkins. ‘It will be soon.’
As a collective group, the Larnkins that slumbered within the other Elementals roused at her call. Preparing for battle.
Her pack began sharing their united power with her.
A river of magic flowed from her, her dual powers hunting out the location of each of her enemies. When her magic came in contact with the first of the acolytes, it was absorbed by a dark red stone mounted in a bracelet that circled the acolyte’s wrist.
Ah. There was something interesting to study there.
The black metal of the bracelet bit like frost along her senses. She allowed more of her power to be absorbed by the acolyte. It wasn’t wasted.
Those red stones were how the acolytes’ master fed and as such, it was a link to that creature. She might just have found a way to track it. Filing that information away for later study, she turned her attention back to the general and his advisors.
“Surrender my daughters to me, and we can avoid a great deal of unpleasantness,” General Stonemantle said. He was still calm, but she heard an edge of impatience creeping into his voice.
Pushing past the other Elementals, Sorsha, the youngest of the Stonemantle sisters stormed forward, armed with a longbow with one of her lethal fire arrows already notched. “How could you betray us like this? I’ll kill you myself!”
Sorsha’s bondmate, the stallion mage Shadowdancer, was in his centaur form and he trotted forward with his own longbow at the ready. His massive size dwarfed everyone else around him and the soldiers standing beside the general shifted nervously, hands tightening on their weapons.
Before the leader of the Twelve acted to soothe the heated situation, Silverblade skirted around the others with the silent stealth of his kind, and placed a large, restraining hand on the Sorsha.
“Wait,” he cautioned. “Let us hear him out first.”
She and Silverblade had already discussed what to do with General Stonemantle if they thought he had been corrupted by the acolytes. Thus Beatrice knew Silverblade was prepared to kill anyone that the acolytes had corrupted, even the general.
So why was he suddenly willing to hear out the general?
“There is something not right about this situation,” Silverblade whispered into her mind. “I think the clever tactician has something planned.”
To the general he said, “Go on, human. Explain to your daughters why you’re ready to throw them to the acolytes.”
Beatrice noted General Stonemantle didn’t dignify Silverblade’s remark with an answer. He didn’t even look at the lupwyn.
“They are your daughters. If you claim to care for them at all, you will not surrender them to the acolytes.”
“I do not have to explain myself to you, beast!” The general turned his attent
ion back to the Phoenix Prince and continued. “In the past, you’ve proven more sensible than the others of your kind. Hand over my daughters and the peace treaty will remain intact.”
The human had just stressed the words ‘peace treaty.’ Why? And yet, almost in the same breath, he’d insulted every Elemental present.
Beatrice frowned in thought, paying attention to the general for the first time. This behavior was nothing like his reputation as a brilliant military tactician.
Sorntar shook his head. “That will not be possible, I’m afraid.”
“Then I will recover my daughters after every last Elemental is dead.”
General Stonemantle turned his horse and galloped back toward his army, which was even now splitting to allow a new group of horsemen passage. These were not horse archers or even heavily armed cavalrymen. They were acolytes accompanied by their soldier slaves.
General Stonemantle addressed Acolyte Ironsmith. “I want my daughters unharmed. I don’t care what happens to their companions.”
With a bow of his head, he acknowledged the general’s words. “Do not worry. I will see that you and your daughters are reunited.”
With that, the acolyte spurred his horse into motion, his own smaller army of lethal acolytes rode close on his heels. Just as he was about level with the general, Beatrice’s Larnkin directed her attention toward the forest once more. Captain Nurrowford rode out into the open, raised his longbow, and loosed the arrow in one smooth motion.
A moment later, Ironsmith lurched in his saddle, almost unseated by the sudden, unexpected jolt. When he turned to face the general, Beatrice spotted where the shaft of the arrow had gone right through his chest and the arrowhead now protruded just to the left of his sternum.
Given the location, it should have been a killing blow, if the target had been human. The acolyte merely attempted to break off the arrowhead, but it was too slick. When he came to the same conclusion, he allowed his hand to drop back to his side and calmly studied the general. “You should have used fire.”
“I needed proof. This worked better.” General Stonemantle increased his volume so everyone present could hear. “I had suspected for some time that you and your acolyte kin didn’t have our peoples’ welfare in mind, but it wasn’t until a human girl and a lupwyn scout—two who should have been enemies—came to me and told me of a greater danger. I knew I needed some evidence to take back to my Emperor.” The general tilted his head and gave the acolyte a cold smile. “I have enough evidence to satisfy.”
“You picked the wrong side, General. But what I find most interesting is that neither I nor my master sensed your treacherous plan. How is that?”
“Who said this was my plan?” The general drew his sword. “Acolyte Ironsmith, by the power bestowed upon me by the Emperor, I charge you and your fellow acolytes with treason of the highest order.”
The acolyte raised an eyebrow, as if finding the whole conversation humorous. The general did not care and continued on. “The Emperor does not allow lords, governors, town councils, or cult leaders to gather armies on his lands. And from what I have seen firsthand, you and the other acolytes under Lord Master Trensler’s command have been doing just that. Furthermore, you are in violation of the treaty signed between River’s Divide and the ruling council of the Elementals. And lastly, even if I was not bound by my vow to the Emperor, I would still see every last one of your kind dispatched for the good of all.”
The general made a slicing motion through the air, giving the order to attack.
Garrison soldiers led by Captain Nurrowford led the charge, swiftly meeting the acolytes’ soldiers in a clash of steel, punctuated by the grunts and screams of dying men. Or at least the human men were dying. The acolytes were silent. No matter how terrible the wounds dealt them, they did not go down.
The human soldiers were no match for the undead acolytes, but they weren’t alone in the fight. Wordlessly, Crown Prince Sorntar took to the air as fire magic erupted around him in a whirling cloud. In a dive almost too quick to follow, he dipped down toward the group of acolytes, his fire magic preceding him.
In a blink, three acolytes were ash, their metal bracelets with the red stones had been purified in fire until all that remained was molten lumps of ore. Beatrice’s healing magic danced over those steaming lumps, but found no taint of acolytes upon them.
Taking that as a signal, all the other Elementals attacked in unison. Several members of Silverblade’s pack raced from their hiding places among the thick reeds along the river bank to join them.
“Feel free to kill as many of the other acolytes as you wish,” Silverblade said as he grinned back at Beatrice. “But Ironsmith is mine.”
“He’s already on the far side of the battle, trying to make for the forest, I believe.” Beatrice gestured in the general direction she’d last sensed him. “Take the pack and go after him. I’ll only slow you down and we can’t let him escape.”
Silverblade growled unhappily. “Fine. But some of the pack will stay with you.”
She nodded her agreement and then, flanked by three members of her new pack, she stepped away from Silverblade. With equal parts focused will and sharpened rage, she lashed out at the nearest acolyte. Tendrils of death magic flowed away from her body, darting between and around the other Elementals and the human soldiers of River’s Divide until it found its first target.
When he crumpled to the ground, she picked her next target. Two more fell to her death magic before she took a moment to see how the others were faring.
She felt Silverblade’s intense stare for a moment and then looked back in time to see him give a nod of respect before he darted away with several members of the pack barking and snarling at his heels.
Near at hand, another power caught her attention and she looked away from Silverblade’s departing form to witness the effects of another power as fearsome as her own. Perhaps more so. While her power took a few heartbeats to destroy a victim, what she saw Ashayna Stonemantle wield took even less time. When that bright, silvery power touched one of the enemy, they blew apart—nothing more than whirling specs of light and ash.
Beatrice tore her eyes away from what the other woman was doing and turned her attention back to her own targets. The first of the lupwyns from the forest were now in the mix, adding an even more chaotic element to the battle field.
As she watched, one of the lupwyn warriors got cornered between two acolytes. He fought them, but she could feel when they started to feed.
“I don’t think so,” she whispered under her breath and set her death magic upon the acolyte.
While she’d been busy destroying another acolyte that had stumbled into her path, a hail of fire arrows from across the river took out a few more.
Beatrice admired their skill for a moment before she was once again attending to her own problems as more acolytes started to close in on her location, drawn by her fierce power.
More lupwyns raced through the battlefield—nothing more than dark shadows in the tall grass—but wasn’t tracking them with the naked eye. Though it was soon apparent where they were as the acolytes’ horses were taken down with brutal efficiency and the riders dragged from their backs.
Three more acolytes were suddenly upon Beatrice, but Prince Sorntar darted out of the sky and lashed out at them with fire, and then was gone again just as quickly.
Even as the acolytes burned, she felt them feeding upon the magic flames, but it didn’t save them and the flames soon devoured their bodies. With no host to house it, the dark power that had been reanimating their bodies dissipated in the sunlight.
After dispatching another acolyte in her path, she looked around, taking in the carnage of the battle. Clearly the Elementals and soldiers of River’s Divide had the upper hand. Though their side was not without casualties. Directly in her path, a female lupwyn lay sprawled beside a dying santhyrian. It wasn’t Autumn Shadow, but another member of her new pack. It took her a moment to remember this one’s name.
Ah, River Finder. Beatrice did not have to look at her chest to see if it still rose and fell—her healing magic told her there was no life left in that body. The lupwyn’s spirit had already fled. She said a silent prayer to speed her soul to the afterlife.
While Beatrice had been focused upon the dead lupwyn, the battle had shifted closer to the forest. Likely, the remaining acolytes were trying to escape and vanish between the trees. Beatrice followed, still seeking Silverblade. As she walked, she found other bodies—some were human, some were acolytes.
Directly in her path, a phoenix woman was sprawled on her back, wings outstretched to either side, and her face twisted with horror as an acolyte knelt on her chest. Beatrice reached out with her magic and, forming a lance made of pure power, separated the acolyte’s head from his body. Even as the head dropped away, the acolyte’s dark master continued to feed from the phoenix. With a hiss of disgust, she slammed the acolyte with another blast of her power.
“Stay with the phoenix,” she ordered two of her pack. They obeyed without complaint and went over to the phoenix. A look of horror on her face, the phoenix scrambled away from where the acolyte’s head still sat.
Before Beatrice had a chance to act, the phoenix blasted the head with what was probably the last of her strength. But it was enough, and the offending item vanished in a ball of fire and ash.
Councilor Tav arrived and attended to the other’s injuries, so Beatrice continued her search for Silverblade.
She was just reaching out with her healer’s magic to locate Silverblade when the Mark of the Twelve flared to life. Suddenly she was seeing another location. The dark shadows of the forest. Acolytes hidden among them.
Silverblade fighting for his life in a battle against Acolyte Ironsmith.
Her pack bonds flared and then dimmed, and she knew that he and other members of their pack had just been caught in the dreaded net traps.
Somehow, they had come full circle.
But this time, Silverblade was not going to face the enemy alone. Beatrice sent out a mental call to every other pack member and started to run.
Maiden's Wolf (In Deception's Shadow Book 3) Page 22