The one that had introduced herself as Raven was doing most of the talking. Her dark eyes and her cleavage made it hard for K’xarr to concentrate. “Just what I said, General, the six of us want to help you. Havalon will have this city if you don’t have the good sense to let us aid you. I also see that your little secret is out. How long do you think the Bandarans will follow you now? I can make them fear to disobey anything you order.”
Raven was gorgeous, but she was starting to rub him the wrong way. He didn’t like being talked to like he was an idiot. She also seemed to know about his blood. “You don’t know the city will fall that quickly. We could hold longer than you think, and we are expecting reinforcements in the spring.” K’xarr knew that wasn’t true, but he would be damned if he was going to agree with the witch. “If my men don’t follow my orders, I will handle them myself.” Why did he feel the need to justify himself to this woman?
She smiled like she knew something he did not. “I beg your pardon, General K’xarr. I meant no offense, just let us assist you in the next assault on the wall and I’m sure we can prove to you our worth.”
K’xarr thought for a moment. They hadn’t asked for anything or tried to make any kind of pact with him, what could it hurt? The next attack would most likely be the last anyway, witches or not. He had nothing to lose. “Very well, but you will follow my orders.” Raven nodded her agreement. “I will also have each one of your names, so I know what to call you if I need to issue you orders during the attack.”
Raven stepped to the side so she could gesture to each woman in turn. “This is Scarlett.” The red-haired woman stepped forward, giving a slight bow. “Jade, Skye, and Star.” The three dark-haired women took a step forward with a dramatic sway of their hips. “Lastly, Winter.” The white-haired woman looked at him with her pale grey eyes. Those barren eyes seemed to swallow all the warmth in the room. “As I said, I am Raven. Happy now, General?”
“I met a witch called Selena, do you know of her?” K’xarr asked.
Raven gave a thin smile. “I do, she is one of us. There are more of us than just the six you see here. Does that matter?”
“No, I was just curious if she was known to you.”
Raven nodded. “She helped you before, when the half-elf was taken. I believe she gave you the location of the Dark One’s tower.”
“She did, but not before she gave us a taste of her power.”
Raven laughed. “She is not very social, a bit of an introvert you might say. I apologize for her disagreeable behavior. I assure you that the rest of us are much more hospitable.” The six witches stood before him each seductively posing, creating a striking effect. He knew they were trying to test his will by using their abundant feminine wiles on him.
As K’xarr looked them over, he could see that their beauty could drive a man mad. He saw nothing that made him think they would be of much use in battle, but he would humor them. It was very hard not to. “You should put your cloaks back on, the wall is cold.”
“What are they doing on the wall? You know they have to be evil, K’xarr, are you mad?” Cromwell said. The Toran had little tolerance for magic. If there was anything Torans feared, it was magic, and Cromwell was no exception.
“Let them cast their spells or drink their potions. I doubt it will bother Havalon much,” K’xarr replied.
“Well, it bothers me,” Cromwell shot back.
“He will attack in the morning. See how he is moving the towers into place?” K’xarr pointed to the large siege engines.
The big man nodded. “Three thousand fools and six evil witches, we are dead.”
K’xarr had to laugh. “It’s the best I could get on short notice; I couldn’t find any Toran clans walking the streets of Turill.”
Cromwell shook his head. “I know. If you had, we would not need anyone else.”
Kian staggered through the forest, looking for shelter. It was eerily silent. The winter had quieted the woodland. Bone tired, he marched on, stumbling over the brush hidden in the deep snow.
Near the end of his endurance, Kian leaned against a tree to catch his breath. He had made it to the forest at last and it seemed the bad weather was breaking. Maybe his luck had changed.
He saw a large dark spot in the snow ahead. Willing himself on, he walked towards it. As the swordsman got closer, he could see that the spot was a vast hole in the forest floor. It was big enough to drive a coach inside. He jumped down into it to investigate the odd hollow.
It was not much deeper than he stood, but the ground sloped down into the darkness like a tunnel. The hole was more like a cave, he thought, but not naturally formed. It appeared to have been dug out. He could see the roots of the great trees sticking down through its dirt ceiling.
He walked down into it until he could not see anymore with the natural light from above. His cat-like eyes pierced the dark and he could tell the tunnel went on much farther than even he could see. The cave was warm compared to the frosty forest. Kian decided he would shelter in it for a while.
He walked back out to the mouth of the dirt cave. The swordsman took flint and steel and tried to light a fire. In a few minutes, he had a small blaze, fueled by some tree roots from the cave and his provisions bag.
He left the shelter long enough to dig through the snow until he found some wood; it was wet, but he put it on the little fire anyway. He was too tired to worry about the blaze going out.
Kian sat down and lay back against the rough dirt wall. The earthen cave smelled funny; that was the last thought he had before drifting off to sleep.
“Here they come. Archers to the ready,” K’xarr yelled.
The witch, Raven, stood beside him. “I doubt you’ll need your archers, General.”
“We are going to try and set fire to one of those siege towers before they get to the wall, so I think I will need my archers,” K’xarr snapped.
“We are the Reaper’s Sins, K’xarr Strom, we stood with the Lord of Death in a thousand battles when the elves still ruled your world.” Raven’s voice rose. As she spoke, the witch became almost frightening. “We have destroyed entire races, brought down empires. We are the Children of Death, stand and behold our power.”
She turned back to face the oncoming siege tower. She signaled to the others who were spaced evenly along the northern wall. The witch raised her arms and a ball of fire appeared in her hands, growing larger and larger until it could not have fit through the city gate. She spoke a word and brought her arms down. The ball flew through the air and hit the siege tower, bursting into flames. Molten liquid ran down the icy skins that covered the war engine, causing all it touched to burn.
The screams of the company of men inside could be heard as they were burned alive. K’xarr watched as many of the soldiers jumped out of the tower to land in the deep snow, only to have the liquid fire from the burning tower come down on top of them.
Havalon’s soldiers had stopped in their tracks, watching the powerful display of magic. It was a mistake. The other witches let loose a barrage of magic unseen for centuries. K’xarr watched as great flaming balls hurled by the women crashed into the Abberdonian ranks, and large bolts of lightning ripped through steel and flesh, as men and horses screamed in panic. The white-haired witch, Winter, created huge spears of ice some twenty feet long out of thin air, and with a wave of her hand she caused them to fly into the enemy troops where they exploded in showers of white liquid so cold it turned all it touched to ice.
Cromwell ran down the wall towards K’xarr. “What is this, General, what have we unleashed?”
K’xarr couldn’t answer, he could only smile. He watched as the Abberdonian assault became a full retreat within minutes.
Cromwell grabbed his friend by the shoulders and spun him around. “K’xarr, did you hear me? What in the name of all the gods is this?”
K’xarr grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down where the Toran could hear him over the witch’s onslaught. “It's victory, that’s what it is.
Look at the mighty Abberdonian army running for their lives.”
Both men watched along with the rest of the Bandaran troops as the six witches decimated the front ranks of Havalon’s army. All the siege towers were on fire, their catapults destroyed. Men on fire ran through the snow and many tried to roll on the ground, hoping the snow would put out the flames only to find the snow of no use in dousing the magical fire. All manner of sorcery was hurled at the Abberdonians, all of it bringing death. Finally, the witches relented and let the remains of the army retreat.
Raven walked slowly over to where K’xarr stood, a thin smile on her face. Cromwell took an instinctive step back as she approached. “I think we have bought you some time. King Havalon will think twice before he comes at the wall again.”
Rufio came down the battlements with the redheaded witch Scarlett on his heels. “I have never seen anything like that. What now, General?”
K’xarr scanned the battlefield. They had killed thousands of men in less than an hour, the dead lay broken and burned in the dirty snow. He could see a whole cavalry squad, as well as their horses, turned to ash with the silhouettes of their bodies still in formation, all having died at once from the witch’s lethal magic. There were many places the snow was gone, and he could see the ground black and wet. It must have been hell for the Abberdonians, K’xarr thought. “Leave one in ten to stand watch, let the rest visit their families. We won’t see Havalon again this day. Raven, if you would, I would like to see you in private. Rufio, you stay with the other ladies. Cromwell, you have the wall.”
K’xarr gestured for Raven to come along with him; the witch quickly passed him so she was in the lead. “We walk behind no man, General,” she said over her shoulder.
K’xarr took her into his private quarters inside the palace and closed the door. The room had little in the way of décor. A bed, table, and wardrobe were the only furnishings. The young general wasn’t much on finery or comfort. “Why did you come to our aid?” K’xarr took off his helmet and set it on the table. He brushed his hands through his sweaty hair. “You turned back Havalon’s forces, just the six of you.”
“I told you we have used our magic to aid humans countless times. You are not the first we decided to help, but it has been a very long time.”
K’xarr knew the witches were not common sorceresses, but he wasn’t sure he believed they were once servants to the dreaded Lord of Death. He didn’t much believe in the gods, and he wasn’t sure he believed Raven’s story. He just wanted to know why they showed up just in his time of need. He found it too convenient. “I want to know why you picked me to help, and why now?”
Raven put her hands on her hips and gave K’xarr a sly smile. “We chose to help when we wanted. It’s in our best interest that you hold this city, at least for now.”
K’xarr started unbuckling his armor. Raven moved closer and helped him with the straps. “You’re soaked with sweat, General, I think you should have a bath drawn.”
He looked her over from head to toe, the woman was truly beguiling. He felt an overwhelming lust for her come over him.
Raven took a step back and flipped her hair to one side. “Do you like what you see, General?”
K’xarr took her by the shoulders, surprised at the firmness he found there. “I do, sorceress.” He bent to kiss her and she leaned her head back and put her hand to his lips. “Be very sure this is what you want, General, there is no going back. The cost of your desire could be very high.”
He had not truly understood the meaning of her words, his craving for the witch’s naked flesh overwhelming him. “I will pay the price, whatever it is.”
She slid from his bed as quietly as she could. After their lovemaking, the young man had fall into a deep sleep. He was exhausted, she thought. The strain of command was weighing heavily on him.
Once again she had used her charms and a little magic to get what she wanted. It was always the same. She looked at him sleeping so soundly. Perhaps she had been a bit too vigorous in the boy’s bed. She couldn’t help it, she liked K’xarr and hated that she had to deceive him. She sat down on the bed and gently stroked his dark hair. “Poor boy, I will try to make it up to you someday.”
Kian woke to a strange noise, like a low growl but not like the growl of a big cat or a dog. This was deep and much louder. He must have slept a long time, the fire’s ashes were cold.
He quickly jumped to his feet, shaking off the fog of sleep. Looking down the tunnel, he saw two large eyes coming towards him. They were much too far apart to be a bear, his feline-like vision let him see the huge reptilian head coming up from the depths of the hole.
The beast was moving slowly. It was as large as the tunnel itself, squirming to get out of the tight space. He knew at once what it was when he saw the dark green shade of its scales; he was in the winter lair of a forest dragon. The smoke from his fire must have awoken it from its winter slumber.
Kian leapt out of the hole as fast as he could, the beast right behind him. He started to run, but drew Malice instead. Why, he didn’t know. The dragon wasn’t a great wyrm or a breather, but he didn’t think he had much chance of fighting a beast this size. However, it was too close and too fast. He would have to try.
As the dragon emerged from the ground, he drove his blade into its head. He meant to strike between its eyes, but only managed to bury his sword in its snout.
The monster flipped its head from side to side, causing the swordsman to lose his grip on his sword. Its powerful neck muscles sent him flying through the forest and he landed hard, rolling across the snow-covered ground. The strength of the dragon was immense.
It squeezed itself out of its winter den, forty feet of terrible serpent. The forest’s dragons had no wings and short legs, but were known to be very quick and clever.
Kian knew he had to retrieve his sword from its snout or he stood no chance at all. The beast turned to face him and he ran at it as fast as he could, leaping into the air and landing on its head. The agile warrior ripped his sword out of its snout and jumped off.
The dragon spun and snapped at Kian while he was still in the air. One of its dagger-like fangs tore down his shoulder. If not for the confining space of the trees, it would have bitten him in half.
Kian hit the ground, blood running down his back. The bite burned like fire. The dragon charged again, and this time the swordsman somersaulted to the side and came to his feet, his blade flashing; he struck twice, severing the fore leg of the beast.
The monster staggered and reared up on it hind legs. Kian ran underneath it, plunging his sword to the hilt in its soft belly, twisting the blade free as he ran out the other side of the enraged creature.
The dragon came back down on all four legs again, its wounded leg causing it to collapse momentarily onto its belly. It spun, whipping its thick tail like a huge flail and catching the warrior full in the chest, sending him careening end over end into one of the forest’s great trees.
Kian lay in a heap; he shook the snow off and stood up, leaning against the tree for support.
The beast came limping at him, blood dripping from its stomach wound. The thick red ichor oozed out, staining the snow-covered forest floor. It let out a great roar, lowered its head, and lunged at him. Kian gathered his legs under him and jumped straight up. The dragon’s head rammed into the huge tree, shaking the snow off its top-most branches. Kian came straight down and landed on its large head. Holding the sword like a dagger, he drove the blade into the top of the dragon’s skull.
Malice parted the dragon’s tough scales like they were made of silk and slid down into the serpent’s brain.
It shook its head and started to stagger. Kian repeatedly stabbed the monster’s head until its thrashing shook him off again. The swordsman managed to pull his weapon free as he flew off this time and landed gracefully on his feet.
The dragon came on but slowly. Kian used the trees to keep the beast off of him, weaving back and forth between them, blocking the creat
ure’s advance. Finally it laid down and closed its slit eyes.
The half-elf approached it cautiously, then with a few swings of his blade, cut the dragon’s head from its body. Kian backed up against a tree, sliding down to sit in the snow. He was sore all over and bleeding from several minor wounds. It would be night soon, but he wasn’t going anywhere for a while.
“Master, did you hear me?”
The Dark One looked at Siro. He had, in truth, not heard a word his servant had said. “What is it? Can’t you see I’m thinking?”
Siro sat down opposite his master’s huge desk. It was littered with all manner of magical devices and writings. “He is coming, he has killed the young forest dragon, and he will be here soon, Master.”
The wizard picked up a rag from his desk and raised his mask, dabbing at the fluids that were draining from the wounds on his face. “I will find some way to slow him down. Is the baby ready?”
Siro smiled. “Oh yes, Master, with the magic, he should be fine. A bit tiny, but he will survive.”
He adjusted his mask and threw the rag on the floor. “Good, then cut it out today.”
Siro stood. “Does it matter if the woman lives?”
The Dark One thought for a moment. “Yes, she may have uses later, depending on what happens in Bandara.”
Siro looked at his master with downcast eyes. “May I have her, Master? I could gently kill her in her sleep then bring her back without a mark on her. She would make a stunning bride for me.”
“You already have an undead woman, you don’t need two, you nasty little creature. I told you there would be a limit on your special people. Now get to work and bring me that baby.”
The little necromancer hung his head and walked out.
DAWN OF THE PHOENIX Page 41