Kray whipped past Gashan and Regan, throwing both to the ground several yards away, and struck Jin’s charged sword. The Light pulsed outward, blazing bright, and Kray howled in pain. He fell back, shielding his eyes from the shining sword.
He circled, trying to get past Jin’s raised weapon. Blood and puss oozed from the wound in his leg where Regan had struck him, and more pumped from a gaping hole in his chest where Jin’s rapier had landed.
So this one’s skin isn’t so thick as the one at the tower.
Kray lashed out with his claws and sparks flew where Jin’s rapier met them. He wailed again, and all around the city other wails joined in.
They are closer now, Jin realized. He will try to stall, hoping to hold us here until others arrive. That couldn’t be allowed.
Jin lunged for him and her blade struck the creature’s wrist. He retreated a step, but continued to circle. A pair of guardsmen arrived and tried taking him on the left. With little effort, he struck both down, although one landed a small cut to his face. Blood dribbled down over Kray’s needlelike fangs.
Jin moved between the fallen men and the demon before he could kill them. From the corner of her eye she saw Alpere move to Kray’s side. The old man held a sword, and instead of slashing with it, he plunged it between Kray’s ribs. The blade sank in about an inch and then stopped. Kray turned to strike at Alpere, and Jin moved.
Her Light-charged rapier severed his clawed arm at the elbow. He howled again and turned his attention to the bleeding stump. He spun, and his long tail whipped at Jin, sweeping her feet from under her. The rapier clattered to the ground, out of her reach.
Her vision flickering in and out, she saw Gashan and Regan lying a short distance away, apparently still unconscious—not dead, not dead, please, Creator.
Bile dripping from its long fangs, the demon leaned down to bite at her. Jin started to scream when a charged sword slammed into the Demon’s head from behind. Jin felt a shockwave of Light, and then nothing.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sera stood atop the castle’s outer wall, waiting and watching. A chill breeze drifted over her, lifting the raven hair from her shoulders. Below her, hundreds of wood elves and dwarves stockpiled the castle with weapons and food. But she had eyes only for the north.
War was coming. Again. She could almost taste it on the air. All her life—all but the last few, precious years—her people had known war. In ancient times, her people made war to rid the valley of demons. In her grandfather’s age, the war had been with the orcs. Her father had made war against their former allies, the golden elves. Now it was her turn.
For a time she’d dared to dream that the Golden and her people could live in peace. After Teran’s fall and the destruction of Elam’s army, the Golden had released their slaves and withdrawn behind their own borders.
Then the caravans were attacked. Like a smashed plate, the dream had shattered. At first they’d thought the orcs were responsible; there had been plenty of evidence to suggest it. Black arrows and crude weapons found in the wreckage. But then the message to Dain—written in blood and left with his tomahawk at the scene of an attack. The tomahawk he’d lost. The tomahawk he’d left buried in Koren’s chest.
Dain had described their battle to her. Several others had, as well. None knew how Koren could have survived. He’d wounded her badly—mortally, all had thought—and then she’d fallen and vanished into the flooded canyon where Teran, the lost wood elf capital, once stood.
I shouldn’t have let them go, Sera thought. Dain and Jin had been gone over a week now. They should have returned days ago. Damn Baylest and his ambassadors. He knows well enough it was the Golden who plundered those caravans.
“Preparations are almost complete,” Razel said. The stocky dwarf looked inward at the castle’s courtyard. “We’ve filled every inch of space with food, blankets, and weapons.”
“The herbs for medicines?” Sera asked.
“Split up into several caches.”
“What about the horses? They’ll need hay and forage for a long siege.”
“We’ve enough to last a month and oats besides,” Razel said. “We’re ready for anything they can throw at us.”
Us…the word seemed odd coming from a dwarf. But Razel and a group of his fellows had taken to her husband’s teachings on the Light. They’d given up mining and pledged themselves to the way of the Paladin. In truth, she suspected they enjoyed the fighting too much to give it up. They were crude fellows, given to wild boasting and bouts of belligerence, but by their own choice they were her people now and she loved them for it.
“Doubtless they feel the same. Otherwise they wouldn’t have shown their hand so openly,” Sera said. Her eyes shifted back to the old road. Where were they?
“I’m sure Dain and Jin are fine, my lady.”
Sera faced Razel. “I didn’t say anything—”
“You don’t have to. We can all see how you feel,” Razel said. “I’ve asked the rangers and Cleeger’s scouts to bring word straight away if they spot them.”
“Thank you, Razel,” Sera said. The dwarf reddened above his beard.
“Well, I hope that worthless husband of yours returns soon. I’ve got some new moves to practice on him and I’m looking forward to thrashing him again,” Razel growled.
Sera laughed. For all the respect and courtesy the dwarves showed her, they had none for Dain. And he loves it, she thought with fondness. Razel and his comrades were some of the only ones who still treated him as a man and not a baron.
“He may have some new moves of his own. Besides, I hear you’ve been spending all night gambling. You may not be up to it,” Sera teased. Dain lost so rarely that most refused to fight him anymore. There was talk among the elders of reviving the tournaments and seeing if he could defend his title. Dain had only laughed at such talk.
“Maybe if I win the prize money I can finally buy that place in the mountains,” he’d said.
“Probably for the best if we don’t have it, then. Besides, you aren’t getting any younger, and Cleeger looks as formidable as ever,” she’d answered. “I think I’d have to bet against you.”
Sera smiled at the memory. Until the recent troubles, their problems had been few and long between. She feared that those easier days wouldn’t return; that they’d passed a turning point, never to come home again.
“I need to check on Rhone,” Sera said, smoothing her palms down the thick fabric of her skirts and turning for the doorway.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll accompany you,” Razel said. “I’ve taken a liking to the little man.”
“He likes you as well,” Sera answered. “I’m afraid he’ll grow up wanting to be a dwarf.”
Razel puffed up his chest. “Nothing wrong with that.”
“No, nothing wrong with that, but I’m afraid he’ll be disappointed. We can’t all be perfect,” Sera said, cocking an eyebrow at Razel, who chuckled and blushed again.
She was about to descend the stairs when movement at the edge of the treeline drew her eye. A group of ragged men stumbled along the road. There were wagons with them and at least two women. At first she thought they were part of a caravan, but as they drew closer she saw that they were armored in a style that wasn’t familiar to her.
Sera drew on her link to nature, reaching deep. She focused her senses on the group, then the women in particular. Her heart lurched in her chest.
“It’s them. Jin and Dain and Galena’s ambassador, and they look wounded,” Sera said. “Razel, send riders out to help them at once. I’ll gather the healers.”
Sera ran to Dain when he entered the gate. He slid off his horse and met her with a kiss.
“I’ve missed you,” she said. His clothes had cuts in them, narrow gashes. The work of swords. She ran her hands over every inch of hi
m she could reach, checking the rips in his clothing for blood.
“We’ve had a busy journey,” Dain said, stilling her searching hands and bringing them up to his lips so that he could brush a kiss to her knuckles.
“And Jin? Is she well?” Sera asked, scanning the group for her daughter.
“She is. She’ll join us shortly,” Dain replied. He let her go and motioned for her to follow him around his horse’s side. “Love, I want you to meet Captain Gashan.”
A group of elves knelt before her. Their leader removed his helmet and Sera got a good look at him. On instinct she reached for her power, wanting to strike out, but Dain’s hands clamped over hers and held her firmly.
“We would not have survived without them. Neither I nor Jin.”
“It’s a trick. They’re Golden. They’ve done nothing but butcher my people.” She couldn’t tear her eyes from the Golden soldiers’ bowed heads.
“These men have pledged themselves to Jin’s protection, Sera.”
“Their pledges mean nothing. They have no honor. All they know is betrayal.”
“Every man here, and others in Mirr, shed blood in defense of Jin and myself,” Dain continued. “They will be welcomed in our home.”
“Father is right,” Jin said. She rushed to Sera’s side from behind one of the wagons. “These men are mine. Please, Mother, they’re on our side.”
“But they are Golden,” Sera said, looking from the soldiers to Jin’s face, unable to believe her own child had brought their enemies to their doorstep willingly.
“So am I,” Jin said. “I am as much Golden as I am wood elf. As are many others. Mother…I have much to explain, but I’ve laid my claim to the Golden throne. I am their legitimate queen now, and I will defend my people. All my people.”
“If you can’t trust these men yet, trust Jin and me,” Dain said, moving a gentle hand to her shoulder.
“Was it not the Golden who harried you here?” she pressed, turning to face Dain again.
“It is…complicated,” Dain said.
Sera paused. She looked at the kneeling guards as anger roiled her stomach. She could barely stand the sight of them. In an instant she could call down her power and burn them all to ash.
“They are your responsibility, Jin,” she heard herself say. “I will hold you accountable for their actions. Get them settled. Keep them in the courtyard.”
“Razel, place guards around these men,” Dain said. “Solid Paladins all. No hotheads or amateurs.”
“I thought you said we could trust them?” Razel said.
“I did. The guards are for their protection, not ours.” Dain spoke loud enough for the Golden to hear him. “The people will feel safer if they see a line of Paladins with them.”
After the returning party had been given refreshments and their wounded had been sent for care, Sera led Jin and Dain to a room off the castle’s main corridor. Ambassador Neive and Regan joined them.
“Ambassador, what are your intentions at this point?” Sera asked, settling into a chair next to Dain.
“I will make my report to King Baylest and recommend that he send aid immediately. I may petition the queen separately, as well. Noor’s opinions hold great sway over her husband. I don’t know if he ever makes a move without her approval, frankly.”
“Good,” Sera said. Did that mean Noor was the one withholding Galena’s support, then, or Drogan? Sera shook her head. No, Dain said the queen herself was on a caravan that had been attacked back before they had secured the road. Someone who lived through an orc raid surely wouldn’t deny them aid. “Will you be making your report personally or will you be staying with us for a time?”
“I will personally deliver word to—”
“I will be staying,” Regan volunteered.
“It appears we need time to discuss our plans,” Neive said, shooting her son a sideways glance.
“What word is there from Galena so far?” Dain asked.
“Drogan sends his regards but little else. We are commanded to protect the caravans at all costs. He declared this an ‘internal’ elven matter.”
Sera held Dain’s eye. She knew he had suspicions about Drogan. That damned crown had changed the man, and not for the better.
“Has he sent anything at all?” Dain asked.
“The Black Corps. Just over six hundred of them.”
“Criminals. No soldiers at all?” Regan asked. “Mother, you have to convince him. You saw the demons. How can we stand up to that without serious aid?”
“Demons?” Sera asked.
“The secret to Koren’s survival and her transformation. She’s covered in grey scales like a demon herself,” Jin said. She hung her head. “If I had just killed her when I had a chance, none of this would have happened.”
“I could say the same thing. I should have killed her myself,” Dain said.
Koren returned from the dead and now demons rising, thought Sera. What cruel forces are playing with us so?
“Done is done,” she said, forcing herself to sit up straight. “It matters little now. The question is what will they do next?”
“What are we doing here, my queen?” Brisson said. Even surrounded by an army, the general’s gaze darted through the trees like a frightened rabbit.
Koren smiled. No doubt he remembered what had happened to the last army her people had sent this far south. She remembered, as well. She had been here and, with her own eyes, witnessed its destruction.
The city was still flooded; the wood elves must have ensured it remained so, a submerged shrine to their former capital. But it wasn’t the lake’s topaz waters that held Koren’s attention. She stared up at the rise where she’d fought the human. It was where, by rights, she should have died. She felt the bite of his sword, and then the crashing of his axe as it drove inwards for her heart.
“My queen?” Brisson repeated.
Koren’s mind returned to the present. There was plenty of work yet to do, but soon she would have her revenge.
“Even with the orcs and demons fighting beside us, our army isn’t strong enough to conquer the wood elves. Not with that damned castle of theirs,” she said.
“I’m not sure that’s entirely…” Brisson paused, reaching for a word.
“Accurate?” Koren arched a brow at him. “It is, I assure you. With their Paladins and defenses it would take months to overwhelm that castle, and I’m not willing to wait. Not when we have all we need resting here.”
Absently, Koren reached inside her shirt and ran a hand over the scaled covering of her chest. She opened her senses. Before her change she had no magical talent at all, but like so much else, the Master’s touch had changed that. She took a deep breath. The lake and its surroundings reeked with magic and power.
Then she felt what she was seeking brush up against her awareness.
“Dig here,” she said, pointing. “Let me know when you find it.”
A group of demons obeyed her command. There were two dozen of them now—the escorts that had entered the kingdom with her and others that had been seeded among her people earlier. Brisson pretended not to see them. He had backed her over the usurper, but he wasn’t comfortable with her attendants. Unfortunately, Koren needed him as a liaison to the army. The soldiers had never liked her. Elam had been popular in a way—respected and feared, surely—and Gallad they’d tolerated as a commander.
Haldrin had been their favorite.
She felt a pang of pity at her brother’s name. He would have made a fine king. But if her family lived, she never would have found her master. By now her father would have forced her to marry.
“Stop,” she commanded. The sensation of power was stronger now.
The demons leapt out of the small pit they’d dug in the soil. If she focu
sed her senses hard enough, she could smell the soil’s rot and decay. She dismounted her horse and climbed down to the pit’s center. She held out her hand and closed her eyes, feeling for the power. Instinct told her when she’d found it. She knelt and then plunged her hand into the dark soil. Her index finger touched something solid and she felt the spark of recognition. Grinning, she dug the object free with her hands.
Koren lifted it and placed it on a flat stone. A rib, yellowed and covered with wriggling worms.
She could see Brisson struggling between curiosity and revulsion. Golden elves honored their dead. According to their lost religion, only the holiest of priests could touch a corpse, and no member of that calling had survived the fall of their ancient homeland. The loss of the priesthood was one of her father’s deepest regrets, and he’d had to create a new order of holy men to dispose of the dead.
Just as well, Koren thought. They would have opposed a demon queen, and I would have had to kill them. There would be no room for ancient heresies in her new order.
“My queen, should we really?” Brisson asked, the fear now plain in his voice.
“Silence. You are about to witness my army’s birth.”
From a tied leather bag at her hip, Koren removed a large, mottled green pearl. It had come from the space between the planes where her master dwelled, and it had taken Baelzeron three years to rip open a hole in the barrier wide enough to pass the egg-sized pearl through. Reverently, she placed it on the stone with the rib and drew her dagger.
She hated to sacrifice the pearl. It represented a tangible connection to Baelzeron, something the Master himself had held and entrusted to her. But he trusted it to me for a specific task.
Koren drew the knife across her wrist and sprayed the pearl with blood. She cast the spell just as Baelzeron had taught her. When it was done, she felt her connection to the Master—that huge, comforting presence—weaken and then fall away. He’d warned her it would be so. That it would be consumed by the spell.
Paladin's Fall: Kingdom's Forge Book 2 Page 21