“You will not harm my bear!”
Prince Tamblyn, his magical lute slung over his shoulder, ran forward. Shan Octavio and the four Ghajar followed, and together, they held back the enemy soldiers to provide cover for Ursus. Taliesin feared the wounded bear might lose when two of Midus’ heads bit his throat. The Lorian prince, silver hair matching his armor, stabbed Midus in the back with Graysteel, and Midus turned to ice. Tamblyn’s second blow broke the dog into tiny bits. Ursus rolled onto his stomach, stood, and tackled a crocodile-man while the prince remained close to the bear. Tamblyn’s swordsmanship came as a surprise to Taliesin; as far as she knew, Tamblyn could no more fight than play his lute, yet with Ursus at his side, he was invincible. Shan Octavio, Sir Tamal, and the three remaining Nova brothers used silver blades to fight. Shan had found his silver longsword Retaliator in the armory, and his penchant to kill Wolfmen kept him focused on the soldiers in black. His son and the three squires, less inclined to prejudice against the Wolf Clan, slaughtered whatever neared the steps.
“My father said you would come back for us,” Jaelle said. The gypsy girl had appeared beside Taliesin. The Moon Ring sparkled on her right hand, which was closed around a gold scimitar. It had to be a magical weapon; Jaelle would pick nothing less. She stabbed a lizardman, and on contact with the scimitar, the monster turned into a mouse.
Taliesin laughed. “Whatever wizard enchanted that blade had a whimsical sense of humor. I do not think I have heard of this sword, Jaelle.” The mouse vanished from sight beneath the feet of their comrades, where she had no doubt it was trampled to death. The Moon Ring added to Jaelle’s fierceness, and she hacked and cut through the bodies that pressed forward.
“I know what happened to Harmattan,” Jaelle said, without looking at Taliesin. She caught the cape of a Wolfman, dragged him to his knees, slid her blade across his throat, and tossed him aside. “This line won’t hold for long. I have foreseen it in the cards, and unless you do something soon, none of us will leave this place.”
“I’m sorry about Harmattan.”
“Save it,” Jaelle snarled. “Now isn’t the time for apologies!”
Taliesin sensed a tremor around her, causing her to tingle from her head to her toes. A large horned demon, its skin as red as her armor, materialized in front of her swinging a mace. She had never seen the likes of it before, not even in books on Caladonia legends. Taliesin lifted her blade to deflect the blow, but before the spiked head met her sword, three bolts of lightning struck the demon in the chest. Startled, Taliesin watched the demon vanish, and quickly turned to see Zarnoc on the roof of the armory. He wore Brightstar belted to his waist and stood beside Ismeina and Mira, who used staffs to fire missiles at a flock of winged serpents and took turns zapping creatures out of the air.
Taliesin turned back and found a beast with a crocodile head about to bite her leg; she stabbed it in the eye. Ringerike swung upwards to slice through the torso of another beast. A group of naked men, former Wolfen reverted to humans, seized weapons from their slain clan members, but Tamblyn, Octavio, and the Nova brothers made quick work of them. Taliesin felt no sympathy as the naked men fell beneath their swords, nor did she feel pity for a demon hacked apart by Sir Tamal. Though they were seriously outnumbered, she felt their chances of victory were strong, until one of the Knights of the Blue Star shouted.
“It is Heggen! He has returned!”
Wails and screeches announced the arrival of the god and his army of creatures, and Taliesin feared for the lives of Bonaparte, Folando, Dolabra, and the Hellirin she had left behind in the Dark Wood. The creatures burst from a portal that opened near the tower prison and streamed into the courtyard. They weren’t the only ones who used Heggen’s portal to enter Mt. Helos; Bonaparte surged through after them with thunderous roars, although General Folando and the Hellirin army did not follow.
The golden dragon flew into the air and spewed fire on the enemy troops. His arrival turned the tide of the battle. Taliesin glanced quickly at the battlefield and saw missiles from the magic users had cleared a line of Scrydon knights who arrived late to the battle. Zarnoc and the two women kept fresh recruits from joining the enemy, though Taliesin had no idea who commanded them. Bonaparte flew over the far side of the city, breathing flames and setting gardens on fire. The cloud of smoke would certainly attract the attention of the Maeceni. The Raven Sword suddenly lifted her arm and stabbed through a body on the stairs; a spear tip was inches from her stomach, where Varg had scratched away her dragon scales.
“Pay attention,” Roland bellowed and gave her a stern look.
“More troops have arrived. They are not on our side,” Hawk shouted as he ran past with Tamblyn and Ursus. “King Almaric is here!”
“Where is he going?” Taliesin asked, annoyed. Neither Roland nor Sertorius heard her, and she considered running after Hawk.
“You were ready to celebrate, Your Grace,” Roland said, with a quick glance at Sertorius. “This is where they will come. We need a better defense than this. Taliesin, have Shan Octavio and the Ghajaran join the Bavol knights on the left side of the courtyard. It seems Talas Kull won’t be arriving to lend his support so we must rely on those captured by Ragnal and his family to help us. Sertorius, I suspect you will want to remain here with me on the front line.”
“Grand Master, as your soon-to-be-king, I suggest you mind your tone.”
Taliesin left the two men to bicker and joined Shan Octavio, the Nova brothers, Prince Tamblyn, Ursus, and Jaelle on the western side of the staircase. His son, Tamal, had recruited several soldiers from Erindor. Dazed and confused to find themselves on Mt. Helos after their release from the curse, they were eager to fight. Aided by the Nova brothers, they formed a rank of spearmen. Captain Ramla and his Red Cobras would have come in handy, but Taliesin was afraid to try to magically bring them from the Wolf Den to Mt. Helos; she might send them to a worse place.
Night crawlers appeared on the rooftops. The bugs were like scorpions with large pinchers, multiple legs, and giant stingers, and they swarmed over the buildings and chittered in rage.
“Archers, ready your bows,” Hawk shouted. Taliesin had forgotten how resourceful Hawk was in battle; he had rounded up twenty archers from Maldavia. “Sirocco, take a few of these knights and cover the backside of the armory. Simoon, you go with him. Khamsin, stay with me and nock your arrow, my friend.”
“That boy, Hawk, was made for command,” Octavio rumbled and shouldered in beside Taliesin. “While Zarnoc is in rare form today, the moment the gods return, we will be outplayed, my friend.” He pointed his sword at the mass of enemy soldiers. “There are far more of them than us.”
Soldiers in black armor pressed together from every street leading to the armory as they marched forward in a moving carpet. At the head of the troops swirled a black and purple cloud, which turned into a tall man dressed in a purple cape, a silver-winged helmet, and a silver breastplate engraved with human skulls. Though at a distance, Taliesin was still able to discern the visage of Heggen. His piercing black eyes sought her out and he pointed his jagged-edged sword, Crusilix, at her. His black raven, Vendel, the eater of souls, flew overhead.
Hawk took aim and fired at the bird. Every archer at his side fired and struck the raven. As Vendel fluttered to the ground, Heggen ordered the army brought from the Dark Wood. Taliesin suspected Ragnal was close behind and feared it meant the end of the Hellirin. The portal remained open as a battle, already in progress, spilled into the courtyard, bringing along snow and cold air as the Hellirins gave chase to Heggen’s retreating troops.
“It’s the darklings,” Jaelle shouted over the clamor of battle.
“Just in time,” her father replied, as he arrived with the Nova brothers. “Give them another volley, Captain Hawk!”
Arrows whizzed past Taliesin and slammed into the Wolfmen that pressed forward to climb the stairs, but the line of Caladonia men buckled under the pressure of the assault, and Roland, Sertorius, and Tamal joine
d together, to block the tide.
Ringerike quivered in Taliesin’s hand, eager for action. “There are so many of them,” she said. “I must do something. I must use my magic against Heggen.”
“Let Mira deal with Heggen,” Octavio said. “A goddess fights on our side. Look and see!” He pointed to the roof then turned to face the oncoming soldiers.
Taliesin glanced over her shoulder. Zarnoc, Mira, and Ismeina lifted their staffs in unison and from the tips came a blast of bright yellow flames that formed a protective barrier around the armory. Heggen’s army came to a halt and raised their shields to fend off a hailstorm of arrows.
“Hold the line,” the god shouted in a thunderous voice and threw up a wall of purple light, which pushed back against the yellow flames. He entered Taliesin’s mind, and she heard his voice. “Folando may have joined you, girl, but Duvalen has fallen. Ragnal has seen to it. If you were expecting the Lorians to come to your aid, think again.” He reached into his purple cloak and removed a weighted black bag. “This is a gift from Ragnal for Prince Tamblyn. See he gets it, Raven Mistress.”
Heggen heaved the bag and laughed as it flew through the two magical barriers and dropped at Taliesin’s feet. Tamblyn pushed in behind Taliesin, eager to see what it contained. Ursus roared as Tamblyn knelt on the ground, opened the bag, and fell back onto his haunches, a horror-stricken look on his face. Jaelle joined the Lorian prince, opened the bag, and looked inside. She turned her head and met Taliesin’s gaze as Heggen’s troops let out a chorus of shouts and began banging their swords on their shields in a steady thump. thump.
“What is in the bag?” Taliesin asked.
The prince let out a mournful wail as Jaelle removed two severed heads; King Boran and Queen Dehavilyn had suffered a grim fate. Jaelle placed the heads back inside and closed the bag.
“What has become of my people?” Tamblyn sobbed. “My parents are dead. My city has fallen. They will become Hellirin now, if they are lucky. Dolabra has not suffered the same fate.” He turned to Jaelle and stepped into her cold embrace. “What am I going to do, Jaelle? I am next in line to be king.”
“Then be a king,” the gypsy girl said. “Be brave!”
“Zarnoc, what can we do?” Taliesin whispered as she gazed at the rooftop.
The wizard drew his magical sword, Brightstar, and lifted his staff into the air, a look of pure hatred on his face. He summoned a storm and dark clouds and crackling lightning moved over Heggen and his troops. The god of the underworld was not to be out-matched, though, and he summoned his own storm clouds. They appeared over the armory and courtyard, and they covered the Hellirin soldiers as well as Taliesin, her friends, and their allies. Both storms crackled with lightning and rain fell on both sides of the barriers. In an instant, both barriers, the purple and the yellow, gave hard shudders and fell.
Zarnoc sent a powerful blast of wind before Heggen’s troops could rush the armory, and enemy soldiers tumbled over each other and slid to the far side of the battlements. The gold dragon dropped out of the sky and blasted Heggen with hot flames. The god, unharmed, retaliated, and a bolt of lightning shot out of the clouds and struck Bonaparte. The dragon spiraled toward the tower prison with a loud, painful roar and struck with a crash. The tower toppled to the side beneath the weight of the dragon. Taliesin gasped in alarm as black-clad soldiers charged Bonaparte.
“I must help, Bonaparte,” Taliesin cried.
Without waiting for assistance from her friends, Taliesin thrust Ringerike into the air. One moment she stood beside Jaelle, Tamblyn, and Shan Octavio; the next, she stood in front of the dragon. She had not expected to transport from the armory across the expanse of the large courtyard. Alone, she ran toward the enemy troops, swinging her sword. She threw up her hand and sent a platoon slamming into a low wall, but others reached the dragon and jabbed spears into Bonaparte’s side. The battle resumed across the courtyard as the magic users cast spells at each other, and the soldiers re-engaged in combat.
“Get away from him,” Taliesin shouted and threw up her hand again. The spears pulled out of the dragon and spun around, quickly and neatly, to impale their owners. It proved a handy magical maneuver, but she now found herself in the midst of the enemy force. She backed toward the dragon as the soldiers surged forward, and knelt to place her hand on the end of his tail.
A burst of blue light that no soldier could penetrate with his weapon surrounded both Taliesin and Bonaparte. She concentrated on his wounds; not serious but painful, she thought. Seconds later, the dragon stirred, and his entire body shuddered as he turned into a dragon-man. He crawled out of the rubble and stood beside Taliesin as the soldiers outside the orb shouted and struck it with their fists.
“Thank you,” Bonaparte said, his hand on her shoulder. “Duvalen has fallen, but Nethalburg still stands. Ragnal, Almaric, and Lykus are on their way here. I will do my best to help, Taliesin, but I fear this battle may be lost.”
“Don’t say that. It’s not over. Not by far.”
Bonaparte turned back into a dragon. He swept forward, his jaws open, and breathed smoke at the back lines of the enemy. Taliesin watched him force his way down the street in the direction taken by the Hellirin, eating anything that stepped in front of him.
Left on her own, Taliesin raised her sword to return to the armory, but Heggen appeared before her in a swirl of purple and black clouds. He laughed as he swung Crusilix and cracked open the blue orb like an egg before Ringerike slammed into his sword. Taliesin felt her confidence return as they fought among the remains of the prison tower, for Heggen was not as skilled as Ragnal in hand-to-hand combat. They traded blows that created a shower of dark purple and blue sparks, and Crusilix kept Ringerike from raising another blue orb to protect her, but his movements were slower. After each of his swings, all deflected by her sword, Ringerike made a second swift cut. The Raven Sword sliced Heggen’s chest numerous times, and a patchwork of blood appeared.
Heggen lifted his hand, and a cloud of blackness surrounded them. The blue light from her sword grew bright to pierce the darkness. As the god attempted to hide in the cloud and strike unseen, Ringerike perceived his movements and met his blade. Eerie voices screeched in Taliesin’s ears, and she heard familiar cries; the voices of Osprey, Minerva, and other fallen comrades, but ignored them as Heggen tried to distract her. She smelled the pungent odor of the Shadow River, and sloshed in water that rose to her knees, worried the god had transported her beneath the mountain.
“You will die,” Heggen snarled. Crusilix connected with her blade, and she felt her limbs begin to stiffen. A large burst of blue light tossed the god into the swirl of shadows, the water receded, and they reappeared in the ruins of the tower.
Heggen lowered his sword, and his other hand wiggled for a brief second, as if he attempted to cast a spell, but Ringerike rammed into his chest with full force. The god’s eyes opened wide and Crusilix dropped from his hand. He staggered backward against a block of stone, placed one hand upon it, and used the other to try to stem the flow of blood. As the life seeped from his body, he tried one last time to cast a spell. A bright silver light from behind Taliesin slammed into Heggen, and he screamed. She watched, transfixed, as his body turned into a small black stone.
“That’s for me,” a female voice said.
The dark clouds vanished, and Ringerike’s blue orb surrounded Taliesin. Mira stepped forward and crouched to pick up the stone.
“Heggen was my friend. Once I loved him more than Ragnal.”
“I had no other choice,” Taliesin said.
She lifted her sword as ghoulish creatures closed around them. Mira placed her hand on Taliesin’s sword arm, a tingle of energy spread through her body, and a light so bright she was forced to close her eyes blasted from the tip of Ringerike. When she opened them, she saw Heggen’s army on the ground, the life drained from their bodies. Across the courtyard, at the armory, Taliesin spotted her friends and the remaining Caladonian soldiers on the steps, in the
process of regrouping. Not one enemy soldier in the courtyard remained alive.
“What happened?” Taliesin asked.
“That is the power of Ringerike; I but helped you direct it at Heggen and his army,” Mira said in a soft voice. “Ragnal will come, Taliesin. Broa remains in Duvalen, and Navenna will continue trying to gain entrance into Nethalburg. Even now, Ragnal comes for you; Heggen was sent merely to test your strength.”
“Then he sacrificed himself for no reason.” Taliesin retrieved Crusilix off the ground, unsure who she wanted to give the sword to, or if anyone wanted such a wicked blade. Ringerike let out a whine, for he did not like the sword either, and she decided to give it to the Hellirin captain once their allies arrived.
“Heggen underestimated you and your friends. So did Ragnal, but he will not make the same mistake twice,” Mira said. “My former lover and family want you dead, and they do not care how many die to achieve that end. You have won this battle, but not the war.”
* * * * *
Chapter Twenty-Five
Taliesin wrapped Crusilix in a cloak, the only way she could find to keep it from whispering evil things, and carried it under her arm through the dead; somewhere along the way, Mira wandered off. Taliesin assumed the goddess wanted to grieve over the death of Heggen. There was nowhere safe to hide Heggen’s sword, and Taliesin did not dare leave it with someone else to guard. Mira had not explained the sword’s magic, and Taliesin was convinced a Hellirin would be able to control its darkness, but General Folando hadn’t made it to the battle. She needed to know what had happened to the Hellirin and found Roland on the steps of the armory, Moonbane at his side. Sertorius stood beside him with Calaburn cradled in his arms. The prince seemed content to let the Grand Master of the White Stags assume the role of general, and Taliesin suspected Sertorius already imagined the crown of Caladonia on his head.
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