DAWN OF THE PHOENIX

by A. J. STRICKLER

  The Mistress staggered back a step. “This cannot be, you should be dead, no one can withstand my power.”

  He stalked towards her, making a low throaty growl and baring his fangs. Her mind raced. How could he shrug off her power so easily? “The Forever Sea,” she whispered. He rushed towards her and the Queen of the Dead vanished from sight.

  Kian dropped to his knees, the pain in his chest was overwhelming. He would have to try and close the door in his mind, but with shutting out the pain came a risk. The chains on the animal inside him would loosen. It was getting harder to keep it under control when he blocked things out. He would just have to try to keep the beast at bay, people were counting on him.

  Kian looked back towards the city. Some of Cain’s men had passed his position, he would have to hurry. He staggered to his feet, a couple more jumps and he would be at the gatehouse. He was unarmed and still not fully recovered from the poison, but there was no other choice. He had to go on.

  The Asconans held their ground as Cain’s men attacked. Even with the hundred men loyal to the queen, the enemy was just too many. The brave defenders could not hold, and the line was already breaking in some places. Even though Cain could not bring his entire force to bear in the confines of the street, it was enough to do the job. Prince Cain and his best soldiers steadily cut their way toward the gatehouse. They finally broke through the Asconan line near the front of the gatehouse.

  Isabella had been watching. When she saw Cain, the girl drew the Phoenix Queen’s sword and stood in the doorway. Raygan reached to stop her, but the former handmaiden would have none of it. “Bella, no, get back in here.” The girl ignored the queen’s plea and stood her ground.

  The prince pushed past the men fighting around the gatehouse. He saw the blonde girl with sword in hand at the door of the small building. He laughed. “Are you going to let your handmaiden do your fighting for you, Sister?” Isabella lunged at the prince. He spun away from her thrust. When he came back around, he severed the young girl’s hand. Sword and hand fell to the ground. Isabella grabbed the stump of her arm, staring at it in disbelief.

  The prince kicked her hard in the chest, sending her backwards into the stone wall of the gatehouse. Isabella laid still, blood pumping from her gory stump.

  “Who’s the next to die for you, little whore? Come out here and face me.”

  Rhys stepped out of the doorway. He was holding a sword with one hand and keeping the queen back behind him with the other.

  “First a handmaiden, now a healer? I thought you had better allies than that, Sister.”

  “Don’t harm him, Cain, or I swear by God…”

  The prince didn’t let his sister finish her oath.

  “You will do nothing,” he screamed. “You are finally out of tricks, Sister. After I gut this fool, I am going to strangle you with my bare hands.”

  The prince heard something land softly beside him. The color drained from his face and fear seized him. He was staring into the cold golden eyes of the half-breed swordsman.

  “If you wish to fight, Highness, fight me,” Kian growled through clenched teeth.

  The prince turned and ran back to his troops, who were trying to finish the last of the Asconans.

  Kian took the longsword Rhys was holding. “I think I will take that from you, my friend. You should help the girl.”

  Rhys gave Kian the sword, then he dragged Isabella inside the gatehouse with the queen.

  The few Asconans who were left fell back. They formed a small line on either side of the half-breed. The prince and his men were frozen by the moment, unsure what to do.

  Kian looked at the longsword in his hand and thought of his mother and Gildor and all the hate that had been heaped on him his entire life. The chains that held the animal shattered.

  A fire began to burn in his dragon heart, the black blood in his veins felt like it was boiling. His strength was returning. His vision blurred and the swordsman waded into Prince Cain’s men.

  He let out all the pain, all the agony and disappointment he had ever endured. He used it to fuel his weakened body much like the Viborg Berserkers of the Harsh Coast. The rage inside him became a living thing.

  Every swing of his blade killed a man. They went down before him one on top of the other. Time ceased. Had he killed ten men or a hundred? Maybe it was a thousand, it didn’t matter. He had freed the thing inside him, and it would not be stopped.

  K’xarr and Sir Ivan led a swift attack against Cain’s flank. The enemy’s lines seemed in disarray, with some of the soldiers headed north and some south. The confusion made their superior numbers useless. The prince’s men seemed to be confused and unsure of which way they should attack. K’xarr pressed the assault, needing to take advantage of the enemy’s disorganization while he could. Cain’s soldiers were having trouble forming ranks in the confines of the city as the Asconans knifed through them. K’xarr could hear their officers screaming out conflicting commands: move forward, fall back, and retreat. It sounded like none of the enemy was sure what they should do. The young general smiled grimly. Kian had to be at the heart of Cain’s men’s uncertainty. The swordsman had tipped the scales again.

  Cain had pushed through his troops away from the demon swordsmen and the carnage at the gatehouse. Duke Blackthorn urged Cain to reengage, but the king wouldn’t budge. “Majesty, you must get back to the front, your withdrawal has confused the troops.”

  “Let the men fight that thing. After they kill it, I will have my sister.”

  The duke had lost his patience and his temper got the better of him. “You little fool, K’xarr has attacked our flank. We must get the lines turned around. Forget your sister for now, your throne hangs in the balance. What is more important?”

  Cain turned and rammed his sword into William Blackthorn’s belly. “I am king, I say what is important and what is not.”

  Blackthorn fell to the ground, staring at the young monarch. The prince had gone completely mad. Cain walked away from him without a backwards glance. This whole battle had gone wrong. The best thing he could do was to try to find a battle surgeon. William began to crawl away, holding his belly as the sounds of battle grew louder.

  Kian fought on, among a sea of dead bodies. They were stacked as high as his knees in front of the gatehouse. He fell and tripped over them even with his inhuman balance.

  The poison that was still in his system had caused him to reach the limits of his endurance. Yet he fought on. He was on his knees now, wallowing in the carnage. The enemy came at him slowly and very timidly, but they still came.

  Rhys and the queen watched as he fought. The half-elf’s muscles shook with exhaustion and the speed of his blade was near that of a normal human. The healer knew Kian couldn’t last much longer. “Raygan, I love you. I have since the day I first saw you. Forgive me, but I can’t stand here and watch this anymore.”

  “No, Rhys. You’ll be killed.” The queen grabbed his arm, but the healer pulled away from her.

  “Stay with Isabella. I have done what I can for her.” Picking up a fallen sword, he went to stand with his friend.

  Kian heard him and turned, looking at Rhys through the blood-soaked hair that hung in his face. “Get back inside, Rhys, you can do no good out here,” the swordsman growled. The healer thrust his sword wildly at the enemy troops, doing the best he could to try and defend the half-elf.

  A spear flew through the air, hitting the young healer in the hip. He fell to the ground, clutching the wound.

  Kian surged to his feet and stood over the fallen healer. He looked like a nightmare covered in the viscera of his enemies.

  “You shall not have this man,” he said coldly, looking into the eyes of bewildered soldiers. None of them had even heard of what they were witnessing here.

  Kian dropped to one knee, his legs were weary but the dragon heart still beat strong in his chest. He forced himself to stand on shaking legs. “I will kill every one of you if I must, before I let you have these p
eople.”

  The soldiers could see that Kian was growing weak, the last of the men that had helped defend the queen were dead, and the half-elf stood alone. As they were about to attack, a great shout startled them. It had come from the heart of the city. A beast had awoken. The people of Turill were coming to save the queen.

  Thousands of citizens, with everything from hammers to pitchforks, butcher knives to hunting bows, came charging from the Great Market. The howling mob came on the run. They flew into Cain’s army like an angry wind. Twenty thousand strong. Men and women alike had heard of queen’s plight and meant to change it.

  K’xarr and Ivan had taken the Asconans and driven deep into the enemy’s lines when they spotted Cain. K’xarr tapped the knight on the arm and they moved towards the prince.

  The people of Turill were giving the disorganized soldiers a terrible time. Many of the Bandaran soldiers tried to flee, only to be dragged down and killed by the mob. K’xarr had no time to enjoy it, he wanted Cain. The prince tried to push his way through the chaos that had now enveloped the streets of Turill. K’xarr and Sir Ivan were right behind him. The Camiran was not about to let Cain escape, he wanted to end this tonight.

  All three men struggled with the crowd, but it was the prince that broke into the clear first. “He’s headed toward the palace, K’xarr,” Ivan said as he and the general waded out of the sea of combatants. Once in the open, the man from the Harsh Coast put his head down and ran. He was gaining on his quarry when the prince’s sword scabbard swung between his legs and tripped him. Cain rolled to his feet as K’xarr and Sir Ivan ran up. “Time for you to die, Cain,” K’xarr said, catching his breath.

  Endra had lost sight of Rufio and the company of men she was with. Instead of fighting the enemy, she was pushing through the crowd trying to get to the gatehouse.

  She quickly realized pushing and shoving her way through the thousands of people in the streets was hopeless. She saw an alley that seemed deserted. Endra cut down the dark back street, trying to find a quicker way to Kian.

  She had not gotten far when the smell of death filled the air. A woman in a veil stood before her. It was as if an icy hand gripped her spine and fear choked her to silence. Endra could feel the hate and scorn that seeped from the woman. She was evil.

  “Your lover might be immune to my charms, but you’re not, are you, my dear girl?” The woman stretched out her hand and Endra’s body lifted into the air. She couldn’t breathe, her sword slid from her hand, and she grasped at her throat. The world blurred and began to grow black.

  She heard the veiled woman scream and felt herself fall to the ground. Endra blinked her eyes, trying to clear her vision. She saw a shadowy figure holding the veiled woman off the ground by her neck. The shadow was a giant of a man, but all she could really tell was he was dressed in dark armor.

  He slammed the veiled woman into the wall on one side of the alley, then into the wall on the other side. The evil woman hung limp in his hand. The warrior gazed at the veiled woman a moment, then tossed her down to the far end of the narrow street like a stray cat. The woman awkwardly got to her feet and disappeared. The man turned towards Endra. His face was covered by a dark helmet. She thought she heard him speak her name before she lost consciousness.

  She came to and saw that the veiled woman and the warrior were both gone. Endra blinked and slowly got to her feet. The sounds of battle still echoed in the night. Kian, she had to get to him.

  Endra drew her sword and headed south again. Had she just seen two gods fighting? The one in the dark armor reminded her of the man who had taken her and destroyed her village all those years ago, but it wasn’t him. She would have known if it was. It was Kian the woman had spoken of. He had angered her somehow. “What enemies have you made now, my love?” She looked to the sky and said a silent prayer to the heavens, then she ran towards the gatehouse.

  “Rufio, look.” Cromwell pointed. Greyson Kyle stood beside a man lying on the ground. The turncoat was fighting off some of the people from the city bent on killing the wounded man.

  Rufio didn’t hesitate a moment, he charged the man without a word.

  “Damn it, Rufio, wait,” Cromwell said as he loped after the Dragitan.

  Rufio attacked with fury. Greyson quickly realized who he was fighting and smiled.

  The Bandaran was good. Rufio quickly knew he was outclassed. Greyson turned aside his every attack. “You’re no match for me in a fair fight, Dragitan,” the Bandaran captain said.

  Rufio jumped back as Cromwell’s great ax came around and split Greyson Kyle’s head in half. “Then we will cheat, you traitorous bastard.”

  Cromwell clapped Rufio on the shoulder. “Dead is dead, it does not matter who deals it. Right?”

  “I most definitely agree, my friend. As long as Vandarus is avenged, I have no protest.”

  Cromwell looked at the man crawling on the ground. “I know you,” the Toran said as he grabbed the man by the collar of his breast plate and hauled him to his feet. “Look, Rufio, it’s that old duke.”

  Cain dusted himself off and stepped forward as K’xarr looked on. “It seems you have caught me, no matter.” The prince looked closer. “You are my little sister’s general, are you not?”

  K’xarr spit on the ground at Cain’s feet, but said nothing. “Come then, General, let’s see what you’re made of without your demonic swordsman.”

  Both men took a battle stance.

  “Prince Cain, it is over. You have lost, surrender and stand in the shadow of your sister’s judgment. I will see you come to no harm until then,” Sir Ivan called out.

  “Shut up, you Asconan dog, why don’t you go back to Eldon Cross so you can nurse at his teats.”

  Sir Ivan’s look turned grim. “If General K’xarr does not kill you, then I will, swine.”

  K’xarr and the prince circled each other once, then both men attacked. Sparks flew from their swords as the battle went back and forth. The prince was a fine swordsman, but he did not grow up on the Harsh Coast where every day was a struggle to live. And every fight was to the death.

  The prince thrust at K’xarr's abdomen, the wily general side stepped and kicked Cain’s sword from his hand. Then he thrust his own sword with all his might into the prince’s guts.

  K’xarr worked the blade back and forth until he felt its point hit the back of Cain’s spine. The prince slid to his knees, clutching at the general and trying to stay on his feet. K’xarr let go of his sword and Cain fell to the ground.

  “I should be king, not her. It was never meant to be her,” the dying prince muttered.

  K’xarr slowly pulled the helmet from the prince’s head. Blood bubbled from the young man’s lips. He looked up at the general with madness in his eyes. “Tell my father I was a good king. Tell him I wanted to make him proud.”

  K’xarr looked down at the prince without expression. “Tell him yourself.” K’xarr pulled his sword from the prince’s body and rammed it down through Cain’s face.

  “That wasn’t very knightly, General,” Sir Ivan said.

  K’xarr looked at the young knight with satisfaction. “Good thing I’m not a knight then.”

  Kian was fighting on reflex now. His strength was gone, and he was on his knees. He knew he was finished but found a last bit of strength to swing his sword weakly at the next man. A strong hand caught his wrist, holding his sword arm still. He looked up into K’xarr’s face. “It’s over now; take your rest, Brother.”

  Kian nodded, his head wobbling. He fell over on his side among the dead.

  “Find someone to take care of him and get someone to look at Rhys as well,” K’xarr ordered.

  Sir Ivan gestured for his battle surgeon to take charge of the two men.

  K’xarr looked around the gatehouse. He had never seen so many men killed in such a small area. He wondered how many had met their fate at the hands of his sword-brother. Only the gods knew.

  Raygan walked out of her tiny fortress, arms wrapped arou
nd herself. She seemed shaken, but unharmed. Raygan looked out at the city, fires still raged and smoke filled the sky. The sun was just beginning to rise as K’xarr greeted the young woman. “Your brother is dead and his army defeated. We have won. The crown is yours, Majesty.”

  The queen slowly shook her head and looked out over the dead bodies that lay all around her. “My crown was not won. We have paid for it, K’xarr.”

  “Aye, Majesty, the fates have been paid in full.”

  The citizens who had fought Cain’s men the night before now fought the fires that ravaged their beloved city. By late in the afternoon, the people had won their fight against the fire, but their tasks were not yet finished. Thousands of dead bodies littered the streets of Turill. Sir Ivan had a company of Asconans help the exhausted citizens as they began to remove the grisly remains. Many families mourned loved ones that had fallen during the night’s bloody conflict. Very few people in Turill hadn’t lost someone they loved. The city’s grief would linger a long time for the sons and daughters it had lost.

  The Asconan knights who fell in battle were loaded into wagons and taken from town. They were ceremoniously placed in a large pit and burned. The pit was then filled in by their brother knights and a marker with the symbol of the horse and lance was set to honor their dead.

  Sir Ivan hated not being able to return the fallen knights to their families in Ascona, but there were just too many. It was a grim day in Turill, and one not many would soon forget.

  Late in the day, the queen was escorted to the palace by Ansellus and a group of guardsmen. She had asked for K’xarr, but he and the remaining Asconans were busy bringing order to the streets of Turill.

  K’xarr and the knights were rounding up the remains of Cain’s army. Many had simply surrendered the night before. After their prince’s death, most didn’t have the stomach continue the civil war. Still, there were a few pockets of stubborn soldiers loyal to Cain that had to be dealt with. The queen had no doubt that K’xarr and the knights would bring a swift end to the last of her brother’s supporters.