Lachlei

by M. H. Bonham

  “Those aren’t wolves,” she said. “Unless you count the demon kind among them. They’re Yeth Hounds. Areyn must have broken Ni’yah’s power — if we don’t get to your army, you friend won’t be the only one feeding Areyn.” She pressed her steed into a gallop, not waiting for the Redel’s response.

  Lachlei glanced back to see Redsil press his horse to a gallop. A dozen white wolves materialized behind them. Release the second horse! She mindspoke to him. He needed no further urging and cut the reins to the second horse. His horse shot forward in blind panic, freed from its burden. The other horse turned, and the Yeth leapt at it, tearing it to pieces. Still, other Yeth filled in the gaps. Lachlei spurred her horse forward, hoping to avoid the demons. She heard Redsil’s scream, but did not look back. She knew the Yeth had caught the Redel soldier.

  Up ahead, she could see the Redel army. Archers were already scrambling to ready themselves along the lines as she rode towards them. She hoped none of them would take aim at her. She glanced back and saw that the Yeth were rapidly closing on her. Lachlei urged her horse onward, but she knew that her warhorse was stretched to its limits.

  Fire! Damn it! Fire! She shouted in mindspeak as she came into range. A volley of arrow flew overhead, and she saw some of the Yeth go down. Adamantine-tipped arrows, Lachlei realized. While their archers did not have the range of the Lochvaur longbow men, Lachlei knew that the Redel archers could be as deadly in short range.

  Lachlei rode through the lines and reined her horse. The Yeth halted in dismay and turned back as a hail of arrows greeted them.

  “Lachlei?” spoke a familiar voice. Lachlei turned to see a handsome Redel with gold hair and eyes approach her. His surcoat showed a golden sun on a blue background. “By Sowelu’s rays, is that you?” he asked incredulously.

  “Redkellan?” Lachlei said. “Thank the gods you are here. Those were Yeth Hounds…”

  Redkellan nodded. “I know. We heard that the Lochvaur were in our territory, but I didn’t expect an army, and I didn’t expect you. Where’s Fialan?”

  Lachlei stared at the Redel prince. “Didn’t you hear?”

  Redkellan frowned. “Hear what? There’s been rivalry among the Redel princes for the throne — I’ve been busy.”

  Lachlei gazed at him for a moment before answering. How would the Redel act towards a Lochvaur queen? “Fialan is dead…”

  “Dead?” Redkellan stared. “Who’s king now?”

  She smiled. “I am.”

  Redkellan’s eyes widened for a moment and then he laughed. “Come with me,” he said. “We must discuss this.”

  “But the demons…”

  “My warriors will take care of them,” he said. His gaze narrowed. “I believe we have some matters to discuss.”

  *****

  Redkellan led Lachlei into his tent and they sat down in two chairs next to a table. A portable woodstove burned next to a cot, and Redkellan motioned a servant to fill two flagons with mead.

  Lachlei raised her hand. “As much as I would like to drink with you, I fear I must pass,” she said.

  Redkellan nodded. “You’re first-blood — I forget,” he said with a smile. “It amazes me how those with gods’ blood in them have no resistance to alcohol.”

  “The first-bloods’ curse,” she remarked, and he chuckled.

  Lachlei at one time might have considered Redkellan with interest. He was young — no more than fifty years old — and like his father, had achieved his position through combat, not blood. He was handsome in a rough way, with braided gold hair and golden eyes. His nose was broken and a large scar ran from cheekbone to throat. Although his father had been king, neither Redkellan nor his father had any godling blood, which made his achievement remarkable. But Lachlei did not doubt that there were first-blood challengers among the Redel princes who were causing friction.

  He removed his gauntlets and Lachlei smiled as she saw the mark of Sowelu on his forearm: a many-rayed sun. “I see the sun god has chosen you as his champion,” she said.

  Redkellan glanced at the mark and nodded. “The combat wasn’t easy. Some are still contesting my right.”

  “Indeed,” Lachlei said. “But that doesn’t explain what you are doing on Lochvaur lands.”

  Redkellan leaned back and took a draught of the honey-wine. “Darkling Plain has always been under contention between our two kindreds. My father, Redhael, gave up that right for the sake of peace with the Lochvaur, but with the current contention for the throne, it would seem that the old treaties are invalid.”

  “But you’re Sowelu’s champion,” she said.

  “Not all recognize me as such.”

  “They didn’t argue when Redhael took the throne.”

  “Redhael had a larger army and more lands than I do,” Redkellan replied. “He was older when he ascended the throne. I don’t have the support he had.”

  Lachlei met his gaze. “So, those who can build the largest army and take the most lands are most likely to take the throne,” she said.

  “Indeed,” Redkellan remarked. “But what is the Lochvaur army doing on Darkling Plain?”

  “You have spies,” she said. “You know we’re being pursued.”

  Redkellan leaned forward, his gold eyes glittering. “Yes, by Silren, Eltar, and demons. Very interesting.”

  Lachlei frowned. “Then, if you know…”

  The Redel prince shrugged. “This is not the Redel’s fight,” he said. “We have our own problems.”

  “Areyn Sehduk killed Fialan,” Lachlei interrupted him.

  Redkellan fell silent and considered her. “If that is so, then we should be seeing the Athel’cen.” He shook his head. “This is not a Redel fight.”

  “It should be,” Lachlei said. “Join me against them.”

  Redkellan chuckled and shook his head again. “This is not our fight, Lachlei.”

  Lachlei considered the prince carefully. “I can give you what you want.”

  Silence ensued. Redkellan acted disinterested, but Lachlei could sense interest behind his shield. “And what might that be?”

  “The throne to the Redel kindred,” Lachlei said, sounding more confident than she felt.

  Another silence followed. Lachlei watched as Redkellan weighed her offer. “You’ve piqued my interest,” he admitted. “How would you put me on the Redel throne?”

  “I have my ways,” she said.

  He shook his head. “No mystery. If I am going to risk the lives of my army I must know how you plan to put me on the Redel throne.” Redkellan smiled sardonically. “It seems odd that a Lochvaur queen who is pursued by two kindreds and demons could offer the crown to another kindred.”

  Lachlei hesitated. The support of the Lochvaur would not be enough to give the Redel crown to Redkellan. Her mind strayed back to the wolf-god — how much would Ni’yah willing to do? She could not say. “An Athel’cen fights with us,” she said.

  Redkellan’s eyes widened. “Is that so?”

  Lachlei nodded. “He would look on those who help the Lochvaur with favor,” she said.

  “Favor is not enough,” Redkellan said dismissively. “I need more than favor. I need a victory.”

  “Help me and I promise at least one Athel’cen on your side,” Lachlei said, wondering how she might accomplish it.

  The Redel prince grinned as he quaffed the last bit of mead. “I don’t believe you,” he said at last. “I don’t think you or anyone has that power…”

  “Very well, then you take an awful chance, don’t you?” Lachlei said, standing up.

  “Where are you going?” Redkellan asked.

  “Back to my army,” Lachlei replied.

  “But the demons…”

  Lachlei smiled grimly. “I have slain arch-demons, Redkellan,” she said. “I am not afraid.” She walked out of the tent.

  “Lachlei,” Redkellan began.

  She turned and met the Redel prince’s gaze. “Yes?”

  His eyes narrowed and he shook his head
. “They said you were a Lochvaur sorceress, but I didn’t believe them. Now I do.”

  Lachlei laughed. “Really? I didn’t know I had such a reputation.”

  “My own Redel will join you — though only the gods know why.”

  CHAPTER Seventy-Four

  “Demons!” the watch shouted.

  It was still dark when Cahal awoke to yells and the strident call of the battle-horns. He leapt from his bedroll, still in armor. He nudged Kieran, who lay not far away in the commanders’ tent, with his foot. “Demons, Kieran! Demons, Laddel!”

  “Gods!” groaned Kieran. He pulled himself from bed. “This is the third time tonight.”

  “They’re keeping us awake,” said Cara. “They’re wearing us down.”

  “She’s right,” said Laddel. “The demons don’t need sleep.”

  “What about the Braesan?” Cahal asked.

  Laddel shook his head. “I don’t know. But I suspect that if they need rest, it is for their bodies in this world.” He clapped a few warriors on the back. “Let’s go.”

  They ran outside and stared into the sky. The clouds blanketed the sky, blotting out the light from the stars and the moons. As Cahal heard the last notes of the battle-horns die, he gazed into the sky.

  “There!” Cahal said, pointing to the forms that moved against the clouds. There were several.

  “By the wolf’s mane,” said Laddel, his brass eyes gazing at the creatures. He drew his Sword of Power.

  The demons shrieked and flew towards them, claws outstretched. The Laddel and Chi’lan archers were ready. A hailstorm of adamantine-tipped arrows flew towards the demons. Some avoided the barrage, but many were hit and fell. The warriors on the ground charged the wounded demons and attacked.

  Screams of men and demons filled the night. Another battle-horn rang out and Cahal turned to see fighting along the flank. Even from this distance, he could see the pale warriors attack the Elesil troops. “Damn! Damn!” he shouted, grasping a horse and climbing into the saddle. “Conlan! The Braesan are attacking your men!”

  Conlan was already on his horse, riding towards his troops. A demon swooped down, talons bared. Conlan drew his sword, but the demon was already on top of him, ripping the Elesil king and his mount to shreds.

  Cahal charged, blinded by fury. He swung his adamantine blade, slicing deep into the creature. It shrieked, trying to rake its claws against Cahal. Cahal jumped back. The demon turned back onto its prey.

  “Rhyn’athel!” shouted Cara and leapt at the demon. Together, Cahal and the Silren princess attacked the demon. Cahal’s final stroke decapitated it. The demon collapsed, and they pushed the corpse off what was left of Conlan.

  “Oh Conlan!” Cara cried, cradling the Elesil king’s head. The silver eyes were already glazing over. She tried frantically to heal him, but the demon had ripped one of his arms off and huge gouges ran down his body.

  Cahal looked at Laddel, who stood by. The godling shook his head. I think this is even beyond my sire’s ability.

  Cahal gripped Cara’s shoulder. She looked up with angry blue eyes. “Come on, Chi’lan,” he said gently. “We can do naught for him now.”

  “Cahal, he was my friend.”

  “I know, Chi’lan,” he said. “We’ve lost many friends because of Areyn Sehduk. We’ll build a pyre when this is over.”

  “Chi’lan,” she said grimly. “I have wanted to be called that all my life. Now, I look on the king of my brother kindred and I am not so certain. Is this what the warrior god demands of you?”

  Cahal shook his head. “The Chi’lan’s way has never been easy. It isn’t what the warrior god demands; it is what we give freely. It is something we do, not because it is easy or painless, but because it is right.”

  “Conlan knew this,” Cara said.

  “Then I count him as Chi’lan,” Cahal said. “Just as I count you as one.” He paused. “Come on, Chi’lan. We have a battle ahead.”

  *****

  Cara led the Elesil to the front lines. Although they had no weapons like the Chi’lan and Laddel longbows, they had archers and stood ready along the front lines. Laddel and Chi’lan mixed between them, fortifying the archers’ lines with long-range defense. Pikemen made a line before the archers, hoping to provide some protection in case of a charge.

  Cara rode behind the archers, in front of the warhorses and infantry. Cahal, Laddel, and the other commanders rode with her. “Damn,” she said. “I wish the wolf-god was among us.”

  Laddel smiled grimly. “Indeed. But I, for one, wouldn’t argue if Rhyn’athel fought beside us.”

  She looked at him. “You look much like your sire. I didn’t have much time to thank him when we entered this war.”

  A howl echoed through the line. Laddel stiffened; his brass eyes narrowed as the howling continued. Cara felt an involuntary shiver run through her.

  “What is it?” Cahal asked.

  “Areyn’s Yeth Hounds.”

  “Yeth Hounds?” Cahal repeated.

  “The demon hounds of Areyn. Dire wolves.”

  “We’ve seen them,” Cara said. “They’re very tough to kill.” She looked into the night. Slowly, thousands of red glowing eyes appeared, one after another. “By the warrior god’s sword, how many are there?”

  Laddel shook his head. “Could be as many in number as our army. Maybe more.”

  Without warning, the demon wolves attacked. The Eleion sent a barrage of arrows into the creature’s lines, and the wolves screamed as the adamantine tips of the clothyard shafts penetrated and pinned them down. Some ran through, only to be waylaid on the pikes. The pikes were not adamantine tipped and did no damage, but it kept the demons at bay. Those that came through the pikes, the foot soldiers and cavalry made short work of.

  As the bodies of the dying demons began to pile up, Cara grew fearful. They would soon run out arrows. How many demons were there? She glanced at Laddel and Cahal, who looked grim.

  “Yeth!” shouted the archers.

  A white wolf leapt through the lines, its eyes glowing red as it headed right towards Cara. Her horse reared as the demon leapt for her. She slashed at the beast as it threw itself on her, but it knocked her from the saddle. For a moment, everything was teeth, fur, and claws as the demon tried to rip her throat out. She felt the crushing jaws around her gorget. and she slashed and stabbed.

  Then, everything was still. Cara could hear her name called out and felt strong hands pull her to her feet. She was covered in blood — demon blood.

  “Are you all right?” Cahal asked. He and Laddel were standing beside her. She nodded, staring stupidly at the demon’s body as it turned to dust before her eyes. “Are you wounded?”

  “No,” she said. “Watch out!”

  More demon wolves broke through their ranks. The archers were out of arrows. Demon wolves were everywhere, suddenly materializing inside the ranks. The Eleion fought back, but they were weary and the demons were fresh. Cara wondered now if perhaps this might be their last stand. She looked in the sky; dawn was breaking. Even so, she doubted she would see midday.

  Then, I die as Chi’lan, she thought.

  *****

  A battle-horn rang out, and there was a pause in the fighting. Cara turned and saw another Eleion army charge forward. She and Cahal glanced at each other. “What in the gods’ names?” she exclaimed.

  Cahal stared. “They’re Redel,” he said, noting their armor and surcoats emblazoned with a sun.

  “Redel? What are they doing in this battle?”

  Cara’s gaze fell on a lone rider at the thrust of the attack. Her red-gold surcoat emblazoned with a dragon of Rhyn’athel shone even at this distance. “There’s a Chi’lan among them.”

  Cahal began laughing. “Lachlei! Lachlei!” Soon all the soldiers picked up his cry.

  CHAPTER Seventy-Five

  “Admit it; you’re still in love with her.”

  Rhyn’athel sat on his throne in the Hall of the Gods. The great mead hall was empty,
save for the two. The firepit sat cold, and a breeze blew through the vast room. If either had been in their mortal bodies, they would have felt the wind’s bite much more. It echoed Rhyn’athel’s dismal mood.

  Admit it; you’re still in love with her.

  Ni’yah’s words stung, but like most of his barbs, the words held truth. That was why most gods detested Ni’yah — indeed, that’s why Areyn despised the wolf god. Rhyn’athel suffered his brother’s tongue, because despite the harshness, Ni’yah had a clarity that sometimes Rhyn’athel lacked. And, although Rhyn’athel wouldn’t admit it, he had brotherly affection for the wolf-god.

  Rhyn’athel glanced at Ni’yah, but refused to meet the wolf-god’s gaze. “Love is a foolish mortal emotion…”

  Ni’yah grinned. “Brother, you’re not the only god to have fallen for a mortal woman.”

  Rhyn’athel stood, towering over his brother. “You — you dragged me into this! I should skin your miserable wolf-hide and hang it on my door as a warning for those who dare to meddle.”

  Ni’yah chuckled. “I’d probably deserve it, too. But this doesn’t alter the circumstances, my brother. The Lochvaur are at Areyn’s mercy without you. And Lachlei will become his…”

  A muscle twitched in Rhyn’athel’s chiseled jaw. He turned his silver eyes away. “Lachlei doesn’t love me.”

  “She loves you — but she also loves a memory.”

  “I can’t give her what she asks. It is not in anyone’s power, save Areyn’s.”

  “Then, Lachlei is lost to you.” Ni’yah shook his head. “And with her, so shifts the balance.”

  “Lachlei would be Areyn’s when she died,” Rhyn’athel replied. “I can do naught.”

  Ni’yah leaned back on the armrest of his own throne. “Are you so quick to relinquish the battle?” He shook his head. “And I thought you were always the more powerful. I guess I was wrong.”

  Rhyn’athel turned to him. “What are you saying?”

  “For a victor, you’re a coward!” Ni’yah said, his voice dripping with scorn. “I’m surprised that the great warrior god cowers in the face of a lesser deity. Perhaps I’ve overestimated you…”