Scores of mounted wizards appeared next and fanned out like herding dogs chasing sheep. They slowly brought cohesion to the disorganized mass of creatures. The handlers reestablished order and reformed the soldiers into something resembling military units. At an unheard signal, the entire army lurched toward Farrell. Behind them, a black chariot pulled by three warped creatures cleared the pass. Five smaller carriages followed.
Farrell snorted. Meglar didn’t think even the gods could set rules he needed to follow. It didn’t matter; when it came time, he would only face Meglar.
Despite their ability to move faster, the Chamdon crossed the open ground at a measured pace. Meglar’s handlers were guarding against attack. He wondered what they saw. He’d hidden the important spells, not that the lesser wizards would understand the magic if they could see it. Meglar might be able to see beneath the cloak, but even that was unlikely.
Using the extra time their caution afforded him, Farrell checked his defenses. Kel had helped him strengthen the spells in the small stones he used outside of Trellham. Filled to capacity, they were his first line of defense. They would allow him to focus almost exclusively on offense. He didn’t know how long they’d hold up. He hoped to keep Meglar on the defensive so he couldn’t attack the regenerating shield. If all else failed, they’d last long enough for him to use the weapon and kill them both.
He pushed that thought aside. Doubt killed. His plans gave him the edge and he knew it. Meglar didn’t control the situation this time. He’d come to where Farrell, and the Six, wanted him.
Farrell also had the seven Gifts. He patted each of them to be sure they hadn’t moved. Satisfied they were accessible, he turned back to Meglar and his army. Despite his bravado, Meglar had been in no hurry to come to Gharaha. Now he moved closer at a deliberate pace. Did he know what Farrell had planned or that he had the Gifts?
He shook his head. It didn’t matter. Counting on surprising Meglar was a losing strategy. Victory would only come from things Farrell could control. Like how to use the Gifts.
One wish. A wish that would determine the outcome of the fight. And something he hadn’t figured out yet. Such was the nature of war; battles turned on decisions made during the fight. He hated leaving something this consequential to chance, but he’d only get one try. With so much unclear, he didn’t want to risk using his advantage only to need it later.
Instinctively he knew he was correct. That didn’t make it less stressful, but it helped him ignore the doubts not using it gave life to.
He watched the army and wondered why it mattered for the Chamdon to remain in formation. They didn’t rely on each other during the fight, so why did they need to present as defined units? Trying to answer that question helped distract him while he waited.
The defenses flared to life when the army reached five hundred paces from the Sources. A domed shield enclosed the space before the mountain that included Farrell. The army jerked to a halt and appeared to go into stasis standing up. Through the spaces between units, the chariots approached the barrier. The purpose of staying in formation answered itself.
Meglar used the path closest to Farrell and stopped just in front of his army. Farrell remained still, staring at his father. Meglar glared at him, but Farrell kept his gaze steady.
His father looked bigger than he remembered, but it had been eleven years since he’d been this close to Meglar. From his vantage point on a small rise, Farrell stared down, waiting for something to happen.
Finally Meglar stepped out of his chariot. The five other wizards followed his lead and moved toward the shield. When they got within a hundred feet, the five were stuck by a burst of energy that sent them flying.
The wizards landed among the Chamdon, who swarmed around the newcomers. Meglar growled and the Chamdon returned to their state of inaction. Four of the wizards shoved their way through the ranks, but the fifth didn’t get up.
A pair of handlers rushed over and pulled the bloody and dazed man from the ground.
“How dare you!” Meglar shouted.
“You were supposed to come alone,” Farrell said. “There are consequences for ignoring the rules.”
“Be quiet.” Meglar snatched his staff from the carriage. “Don’t speak to your betters, pup.”
Farrell laughed. “Be quiet? That’s all you have? I answer to the Six, not you.”
Meglar tightened his fist around his staff. Farrell activated another spell and the ground erupted in orange flames. The fire lasted only seconds and when it faded, the Chamdon were gone. In their place, ashes covered the plains.
The horses and wizards were not injured, but most looked around nervously.
Meglar roared and pointed his staff at the shield between himself and Farrell. A blast of black energy crashed into the barrier. The energy buckled under the strain. A dozen different spells sprang to life around Meglar and his wizards. They struck from all directions.
The attack distracted Meglar and he stopped firing. When Meglar ceased attacking the shield, the offensive barrage from the ground also ended.
“You were told to come alone,” Farrell repeated and raised an eyebrow.
“Who are you to lecture me?” Meglar said. “This fight is between Champions. Where is Kel?”
“If you won’t send away your underlings, I’ll have the Seven enforce Their rules.” He had no idea if the gods would act, but if Neldin didn’t act, the Six should be able to intervene.
“Where is Kel?” Meglar shouted again. “Have that coward show himself and stop hiding behind a child.”
“Worry about yourself.” With every barb, Farrell saw Meglar’s frustration increase. “Kel is where he needs to be. Stop hiding behind your lackeys.”
“When the Champion of the Six shows up alone, I’ll face him. Until then, my wizards remain.”
“You truly are as stupid as everyone says.” Farrell waited until Meglar was about to speak. “No wonder Neldin sought to recruit me to take your place.”
Meglar snorted. “Neldin would never have sought to replace me, let alone with you. You would need to be a member of the house of Vedri….”
Chapter 38
KLISSMOR STARTED running before Takala finished giving them the news.
“If Saulmon is a traitor, we can’t trust his troops,” Klissmor said.
“Darius is returning to the command post,” Takala said. “I’m heading there—By the Six!”
“What happened?” Miceral asked.
“Someone changed Saulmon and his army into Chamdon!”
“Go help Wilhelm,” Klissmor said. “We’ll send reinforcements to help deal with Dagur’s soldiers.”
“I’ll be there soon,” Takala said.
Miceral had been happy with the way their plan unfolded until now. As they’d hoped, Meglar sent all his senior wizards to fight Zenora and Heminaltose. The other three armies decimated the ranks of handlers around the edges of the enemy force. Without handlers to redirect them, few Chamdon turned to face the new enemy. Their allies cut them down with minimal resistance.
This changed everything. Wilhelm and Marisa’s army needed to drive deep into the Chamdon ranks. The plan called for them to link with the Bendari and the Arlefors in the middle of the field. The combined forces would then move east and attack from the rear. Without enough handlers, any attempt to turn the Chamdon would be sporadic and lead to more chaos. That was how they could defeat this army.
If Wilhelm’s troops couldn’t link up, the Arlefors needed to stretch their line north. Otherwise they would expose their left flank as the pushed east.
“Do we have any units we can send?” Miceral asked.
“Sending any of our troops would leave us vulnerable. We are still the focus of the Chamdon,” Klissmor said. “I’ve told the horned bulls to turn and strike Dagur’s Chamdon from the rear, but that will take time. Wilhelm and Marisa can use their reserves.”
“Dagur’s troops were a big part of their reserves,” Miceral said. “What about
Leothan’s company? We never counted them in our plans.”
“That is where I am headed.”
Miceral wanted to ask why Klissmor didn’t say that when they started, but it didn’t matter. A good idea didn’t need credit.
Leothan was speaking to a human in Yar-del’s colors when Klissmor found the camp. The man commanded the two companies Miceral assigned to help the mercenaries get settled. North of Leothan’s company, Horgon had stationed ten legions to help hold Haven’s line. Those made more sense, but Klissmor had other ideas.
Everyone looked over as Klissmor pulled up. Leothan appeared surprised to see them, but he smiled. His expression didn’t feel right to Miceral, but he shook off his concerns and dismounted.
“We have a situation,” he said before anyone else could speak. “Meglar found a way to turn Saulmon of Dagur. He’s moved his army and turned them into Chamdon. I need your company to come with me to reinforce them.”
Leothan nodded. “Dagur’s contingent is small. Even as Chamdon they won’t be hard to deal with.”
“Every second they delay Wilhelm hurts our chances,” Miceral said.
Leothan scanned the area around him and pointed toward the center of camp. “Let me tell my officers. Is there anything else we need to know?”
He began walking and Miceral followed. An older Muchari and a wizard from the support company approached Klissmor.
“Welcome, Prince Klissmor, I am Frankis,” the Muchari said. “May I have a word with you?”
“Go,” Klissmor said to Miceral. “I’ll be along in a moment.”
Miceral nodded and moved away with Leothan. “Queen Pertrice and her cavalry are turning to engage them. That will help, but we need to stop this before it halts Wilhelm’s advance.”
“That’s a sound strategy.” He led them to an open area and stopped walking. A pair of large war hammers, too large for a dwarf, stood on their heads. “I’m glad you came to us for help. My company is eager for the fight.”
“Yours is the only company we didn’t work into our original plan.” Miceral looked around. “Where are your captains?”
Leothan used his thumb to rotate the ring again. “They’ll be here in a moment.”
“Are you going to wear that into battle?” Miceral pointed to the ring. “It will get in the way if you don’t take it off.”
“This?” Leothan held up his hand and looked the large band on his finger. “No, I need to keep this on. It’s the only thing that will protect me.”
“Protect you?” Miceral stopped walking. “From what? Magic?”
Leothan glanced at the ring again and put his thumb underneath and his index finger on the signet on top. A crazy smirk twisted his lips. “Something like that.”
“Stop him!” Klissmor shouted and pushed past Miceral.
Leothan squeezed down on the ring and jumped out of Klissmor’s way. “Too late, old friends.”
Klissmor whirled about, but Leothan had his sword out. The mercenaries in his company appeared confused, but they drew their swords. A second later, some of them stiffened and started to shake. Screams and grunts came from all around.
“What in Neblor is going on?” Miceral shouted and drew his swords.
“Leothan betrayed us to Meglar.” Klissmor stared at the traitor, looking for an opening. “The wizard warned me he felt dark magic around Leothan. I read his mind and found his treachery.”
“You thought you could abandon me?” Leothan laughed. He sounded like he’d lost his mind. “Fools. Meglar proved a better friend than my own kind.”
The men and women who shook, started to change. “Meglar’s going to conquer Ardus and then the world. As his ally, I’ll get to choose the land I want to rule.”
The majority of Leothan’s company appeared unaffected. They inched away from their comrades who were changing. Leothan glanced around and appeared confused. “That’s…. That’s not right. They should all be changing!”
“The wizards we sent to support you noticed your troops had no protection against Meglar’s Chamdon spell. They’ve been working to correct that,” Klissmor said. “Your plans have already failed.”
“There are enough for me to kill you two. Meglar will reward me for that alone.” Leothan touched his ring again.
“I’ve called for help,” Klissmor said. “It’s coming but they’re not close.”
“We need to find a defensive position and hold the Chamdon off until our troops arrive.” Miceral found it hard to focus as he scanned the immediate area. Farrell and Jagwin expressed their doubts about Leo, but he’d ignored them. He fought the rage that threatened to cloud his mind. “Stand down, Leo, or I’ll kill you.”
“Once you’re gone, I’ll… I’ll….” The exuberant expression on Leothan’s face vanished. He jerked and his eyes became unfocused. “I’ll….” His hand twitched and his skin rippled.
“You won’t be king of anything when you’re a Chamdon, Leo.” Despite his glib words, Miceral didn’t relish fighting a Muchari Chamdon.
“Nooooo!” Leothan’s whole body trembled. “He told me I wouldn’t change!”
“Get him while he’s distracted.” Klissmor charged as he spoke. Leothan retained enough of his sanity to swat him aside. Meglar’s ring cut the unicorn’s side, leaving a bloody trail. Miceral leapt forward, but Leothan jumped back faster than Miceral thought possible. He tried to reach Leothan before he completely changed, but other Chamdon came at him.
“Everyone! Get to the mountain,” Klissmor said. “We’ll make our stand there until the reinforcements arrive.”
Members of the Haven companies who could rushed toward Klissmor. The Haven wizards were too far away and there were too many Chamdon for them to reach Miceral. Instead they protected the soldiers near them and prepared to fight.
Only a few of Leothan’s company heeded Klissmor’s call. Most were too confused to understand what had happened. Fighting broke out around the camp. The Chamdon were rudderless and attacked anything that moved. Miceral gave thanks to the Six that Meglar hadn’t given Leothan a handler.
The sounds of fighting drifted down from the north, and Miceral saw a company of Muchari rushing to help. He took stock of the warriors around him. Frankis and twenty-five from the Haven companies were joined by ten of Leothan’s mercenaries. The older Muchari helped organized the soldiers in his unit into a defensive position. He and Miceral were the only two Muchari in the group. Thirty-seven swords in total and one unicorn.
Leothan stood in the center of the chaos. He continued to struggle against his change, and he’d resisted longer than Miceral thought possible. When one of the men from his company charged him, he swatted the man aside. The distraction broke his resistance and his body went rigid.
Miceral’s ex-friend’s mouth opened in a silence scream. Links on Leothan’s chain mail popped as his body grew taller and thicker. Pieces of armor on his legs and arms burst their straps and dangled from his body.
The ring pulsed once, and the other Chamdon jerked as if someone pulled a string in their backs. Leothan scanned the area and fixed his gaze on Miceral. He shifted it to the other Muchari and his expression changed. He grabbed one of the oversized war hammers and swung it like a twig.
The Chamdon moved at the same time. Most attacked the being closest to them. The rest ran toward Leothan from all over the camp as if he’d called them. That proved fatal to some of them as they took their focus away from the soldiers they were fighting. Despite their losses, more than fifty of the brutes raced toward Leothan.
In an atypical move for a Chamdon, Leothan didn’t attack immediately. Instead, he kept his attention on Miceral and the other Muchari.
“What’s he doing?” Miceral asked Klissmor. “Can you read his mind?”
“There is nothing left to read. Someone is controlling him.”
Sunlight reflected off Leothan’s gaudy ring. “Or something. The ring is the key. You saw him twist it right before the Chamdon appeared.”
“Even
if that is true, they will attack us before we can cut it off him.”
“Tell the wizards to fire on Leothan.”
“I called upon them first for help, but none are powerful wizards. That is why they were assigned to the support company and not the front lines,” Klissmor said. “Protecting the mercenaries from becoming Chamdon took most of their energy.”
“They don’t have enough left for one spell? One weapon? Anything to take out Leothan?”
Klissmor paused, which made Miceral anxious. “Only one is close enough to help, but he is busy protecting those around him. He said if he gets a clear shot he will try.”
“You sound skeptical.”
“He is not a warrior and is fearful to use the last of his energy lest he find himself defenseless.”
Miceral couldn’t argue with that reasoning. Asking him to use it anyway would be like asking Miceral for his swords as the battle began. Leothan snarled, and he and the others moved forward. “Too late now, here they come.”
Everyone who hadn’t changed advanced on the creatures from all sides. The Chamdon might take Miceral and Klissmor with them, but they’d never leave the camp.
“I’ll handle Leothan.” Miceral pointed with his sword. “The rest of you work together. We only need to hold them off for a short time.”
“I will distract Leothan,” Klissmor said. “Do not hold back. He is no longer the friend you knew.”
Miceral didn’t answer. Even with their backs to the mountain, they wouldn’t survive long enough to be rescued. Leothan had sprung his trap too well. He’d drawn them into the center of the camp before he turned his troops into Chamdon.
He pushed that from his mind. Leothan needed to be stopped no matter the cost. Klissmor charged the Chamdon leader with his horn down. Miceral sprinted after him.
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