by Jane Merkley
To face the army and dictate your moves off of his meant you were on the same level and the winning could go either way. But if you have an entire wall of people moving at the same speed to the same steps, then you already know what moves you are going to make instead of waiting for the opposing army to dictate that for you.
She caught Byrone nodding and, though she would never base her happiness off of his pleasure toward her ideas, a sliver of satisfaction slipped inside anyway.
The shredders moved forward, stepping over bodies, making remarkable progress. They moved so fast that the enemy could not yet guess the pattern of their dance. When a shredder did fall, a duel wielder or Ruid swordsman stepped in to fill the hole, but the effectiveness was decreasing with every shredder that dropped. It was not the answer to winning a battle, but it gave them an advantage for at least the start of it.
As more shredders fell, Altarn cried out, “Break!”
The player changed to a preparatory tune for half a chord, and then jumped the bow three times, and stopped. Below, the sound was echoed, and the music stopped altogether. The shredders would fight on their own now because they could not maintain the same effectiveness with the gaps between them from where a shredder fell.
Byrone’s swordsman rushed in. The front line was broken and the two forces merged into each other. Altarn looked right and watched her grapplers rush forward to try to get around to the rear of the enemy.
Altarn scanned the snowy distance and found a hulking object.
“You see that carriage?” she asked the boy next to her.
The boy rose in the stirrups to look and nodded.
Altarn would admit she wasn’t swept away by the boy’s proclamation that he was the fallen god Gildeon, but a shallow sense of knowing tickled inside her like she had swallowed a burr, opening up a tiny possibility that maybe, maybe, this could be the god. The priestesses that came with him were not known for being fickle, and they were convinced that he was Gildeon. It was hard to see it now, but Altarn was at least willing to entertain the vague possibility that Gildeon was beside her. And if she was willing to believe that, then she had to also believe that Huilian was in that carriage behind the enemy.
“I believe that is where Huilian is.”
“A sound assessment. But if I am going to face him, we will need to draw him out. He won’t be whole until he has Lorn’s last piece of his soul so he cannot be entirely physical until then, and so cannot harm or be harmed.”
Something about his words sent a shiver through Altarn, as if he expected Huilian to actually get a hold of Lorn to rip his soul from her. Altarn was, by no means, emotionally or otherwise attached to Lorn, but the scene that played in her head just now made her feel a margin more protective of the girl. But that image was brief, because she just thought of how to lure Huilian out of his carriage.
Dawning a cloak of courage, she discarded her woolen one on the ground beneath her horse. Without a word to Byrone, she kicked Lotus forward and down the hill.
Byrone watched her leave, feeling anxious to ride with her. But he had a question for this boy beside him, and he may not have another chance.
“Gildeon,” he said, more so because he did not know what else to call him, “I must ask you a question.”
“Yes?”
Byrone thought carefully. “Why did you point Altarn specifically out to me when I was in Yott looking for a Blindvarn female? You knew it was Altarn.”
Gildeon’s expression did not change. “Think on where you would be now if I had not?” Gildeon gave him a moment but he did not respond. “I pointed her out because I needed you to befriend her –”
“We are not friends –”
“To not fight her. You would have sat back and watched Huilian’s army devour Blindvar in hopes to march in afterward and claim it for yourself. But with half your army off fighting pirates and Luthsinia’s refusal to help, you would not be strong enough and they would have conquered you and Luthsinia and gotten away with it and you’d be at the mercy of a god-hungry angel hell bent on making you worship him.”
“You seem so positive of this.”
“Prove me wrong.”
But Byrone couldn’t, because there was nothing but truths to what he said. It made Byrone furious to know he had been played like that, to have traveled and shared pleasantries with the very woman he was trying to undermine to take her land from. Angry because it was much harder to take something from a woman he felt a minute attraction toward.
And Gildeon knew it, because he smiled sideways at Byrone as if he could read his thoughts. “I pointed her out,” the boy said. “The rest was your doing.”
Byrone narrowed his eyes and slapped the reins across the horse’s shoulders and it dashed forward down the hill.
Battle heated cries wrapped around her like a sharp blanket and she tried not to let her eyes linger on the dying as her horse leapt over them.
Altarn watched a stream of horsemen surge at the rear of the enemy and she smiled sadistically as flashing silver hooks attached to ropes flashed like claws through the air before they landed at the oblivious backs of Huilian’s soldiers. The horse did not stop and those whose armor caught the hooks were pulled unmercifully off their feet.
Lotus rushed faster than Altarn had yet seen her do, terrified of the clash and clang around her and trying to find a way out of it. Lotus weaved about the assailants and Altarn had to sometimes inflict pain on the animal to bring it out of its panic-stricken reality.
The wooden carriage was not guarded and it had been carried by hand instead of drawn by horse and so it sat on the ground. If there really was an immortal inside, there would be no need for guards.
Altarn removed one of the liquid red gems from her hair. She reined Lotus to a stop long enough to aim, and hurled the glass gem at the carriage. The gem shattered and a bloom of crimson fire spread outward like wings across the wood. Altarn smiled, wishing the chemist was here to see the final performance of his work.
Altarn watched to see if she was right. The mass of metal that stepped out of the blackened wreckage of the wooden carriage was much larger than a mortal could ever hope to be – seven times the size of a large human man. His entire image was encased in black armor. He clutched a mace in his right hand that was as long as Altarn was tall. Even from her distance from him, she felt a vile tang of self-deserving want emanate from him and there was no doubt in her that this was an angel. Huilian. His image, however, was slightly transparent, so she could see the wreckage of the carriage through him. Then what the boy said was true, that Huilian would not be completely whole until he had Lorn’s piece.
A deep hopelessness filled her, and she could not tell if it was forced upon her by the angel before her or if it came from within herself. War against man was simple. Whoever bled the most died. To have this intervention with immortal beings disturbed her deeply, that maybe they were not safe even from their enemies who had passed through the mortal tide already. The dead were meant to stay in the ground. Gods and angels were meant to stay as beacons of faith for the lost.
She kicked Lotus away who was only too glad to go. On her way back, she spotted Byrone who looked like he had made attempts to follow her but had stopped to help an over run group of swordsman.
Lotus suddenly reared up in a shriek of panic. Altarn wasn’t quick enough to scramble for a means to stay on and rolled off the back. On her way, her left shorn sliced into the horse’s rump. The horse flinched and kicked away with a scream.
Altarn managed to spin around and land on her hands. Her breastplate saved her from getting the wind knocked out of her. So much for naming the horse Lotus, she thought grimly.
Rushing feet were approaching her. But even as she tried to stand, a black mass of hard muscle darted in between her and the advancing enemy. Altarn made it to her feet and drew her shorns, finally noticing Byrone on his black horse, arching his sword as if it were an extension of him as he faced off the enemy that had come for her.
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Altarn dashed in, catching one of them off guard. In two clean strokes she had decapitated him. Byrone finally noticed her and he dismounted, running his sword through the neck of the last man that had tried to rush her. He fell with a gurgle at his feet.
“You okay?” Byrone asked.
“Fine.”
But more enemy took notice of the two and seven of them were setting about to gather around them. Altarn and Byrone stood back to back to meet them. It was odd, really, how completely her enmity toward him evaporated in the face of a greater need to have him watch her back. His own reservations against her as well, how quickly he abandoned it all to guard her as she regained her feet from her fall off her horse.
“You ready, princess?” He was behind her, but his voice gave away the beaming on his face.
She rolled her eyes and planted her feet. “Ready.”
Jaryd cradled Lorn’s head in his lap. The drug was a pill Miraha had slipped into her last drink of water, because Jaryd couldn’t do the act himself, even though he knew it was strange that he had drugged her so willingly before. They snuck it in, because it was simply easier. Lorn just might have agreed – if she understood what it was they were doing – but Huilian might not have.
He stroked her dark hair across his knee. Today was the day she would be freed. He had promised her that.
The door to the carriage opened and Miraha appeared, stoic as ever. Gildeon was beside her. His expression was blank.
“Jaryd.” The blank way Gildeon said his name made his gut clench. Jaryd then wondered why Gildeon wasn’t fighting Huilian right now. He had thought he had already left to the battlefield.
“Yes?”
The other two priestesses gathered behind Miraha at the door. Their eyes were full of necessary sadness.
“We lied to you.”
Those loaded words sunk like a stone in his gut. Anxious sweat broke down his back. And even then, it wasn’t so much that he was bothered by Gildeon’s admittance that he and the priestesses might have lied to him about something, as it was the way his admittance sounded careless.
Before Jaryd could question, Gildeon pushed on. “I can fight Huilian, but he is only in a partial physical state; he cannot damage or be damaged. In order for me to defeat him, he needs to be completely whole. He needs Lorn’s piece.”
Jaryd’s heart hammered, slow and painful. “Exactly… what does that mean?”
Gildeon smiled sadly, as if Jaryd were some confused boy. “The only way a soul can be released, is to kill the body.”
Jaryd stood so fast he almost dumped Lorn’s head on the floor. He settled enough to position her off him, then turned clenched fists to Gildeon. “You mean to kill Lorn?” From his standing position, it was then that he saw Miraha clutching a knife. He looked into her eyes and they reflected back a need to do all that which must be done, pleasant or no.
His body numbed as emotions slammed around inside him like the same angry battle happening down the hill. “You would kill an innocent girl?” But if Huilian was not stopped… he was so choked with anger and despair that he didn’t even want to finish the thought. “There must be another way! You are a god, Gildeon. You guide and compel souls all the time to believe in you!”
“Compelling is not releasing, Jaryd.” Jaryd flinched at the dark manner Gildeon used his name. “Believe me, if there was another way, we would explore it. I detest that we must kill this girl to stop Huilian. I have thought if there might be another way but the rules are too simple; Huilian must be whole for me to relocate him, and the only way to release the soul is to kill the body. Trust that I would do something different if I could. We cannot waste any more time.” His eyes shifted to Miraha and she stepped inside the carriage.
“You don’t have to stay,” she said as she sat next to Lorn’s head.
Jaryd took several angry steps in the small space, unable to comprehend that Lorn was going to be taken from him so suddenly. It wasn’t fair for her. He promised her he would help fix her, so she could be herself after Huilian was gone from her. She was so young. She hadn’t even had a life of her own. Jaryd had grown too close to her and he could not sever the tie.
“Are you going to stay, then?”
Jaryd paced. He clenched and unclenched his fists sporadically.
“If you stay and you try to stop me, Jaryd, I will kill you too. This is far too important to be wasted on your emotions.”
“Gildeon!”
The young boy sighed. “We don’t have time –”
“Where is Lorn’s soul if she has Huilian’s?”
The god huffed impatiently. “He has it. He lived off hers when his broke.”
“When Huilian is reformed with this last piece, will he release hers?”
“We don’t have –”
“WILL HE?” Tears welled in his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Then –” Jaryd took a deep breath. “I will kill Lorn.” He looked away from their wide-eyed stares. “But I will do it in a way that I can bring her back to life. When this piece of his soul joins him, he will release hers. Is there a way her soul can be guided back here so I can bring Lorn back to life?”
“It will take too much –”
“IS THERE?”
“Do you hear the sounds of the dying out there?” Gildeon barked, and Jaryd saw passed his sixteen year old frame to an angry god beneath. Jaryd’s soul trembled. “Every minute you are wasting someone innocent does die.”
Jaryd connected moist eyes with Gildeon who looked away first. “If you are a merciful god, won’t you do something to help this girl?”
“Her soul will go to Velmashyn upon its release. I promise.”
“She has been burdened with Huilian’s dark soul since the day of her birth!” Jaryd was wailing but he didn’t care. Every moment was another that Lorn was not dead. He then realized how much he really cared about it. “You would let her die without having lived? So she would never have had the chance to experience joy, loss, sadness, hate… love? Was her only purpose in life to harbor this dark soul? The innocents dying out there were aware that they might die today. They volunteered. Lorn doesn’t know she’s going to die and she is drugged so we cannot even ask her to make that sacrifice!” Jaryd shook with anger. He dug his fingers into his hair, a wildness burning in his eyes and he was afraid he would do something reckless.
Gildeon measured him with slow, narrow eyes.
“Fine.” Gildeon spoke the word as if it were a weight that would crush Jaryd. An angry pulse beat in his neck. “I will try to guide it back here upon its release. But if it gets lost or does not know how to connect with Lorn, that is not my problem and I will not stay to see if it works. But know this, Jaryd, that your request is delaying Huilian’s demise and he will inflict insufferable damage while I am ferrying her soul back to you. Be sure to ask yourself how many souls are worth just your one.” With parting bitterness, Gildeon left. Sounds of him mounting his horse were heard outside the door.
“Please leave me,” Jaryd said to Miraha.
“You better do it.”
“I will.” His voice shook and it betrayed his weakness.
She left the carriage and closed the door behind her.
Anguish roared inside his chest. He settled her head onto his lap and stared at her, true devastation weighing down his bones. A sixteen year old girl that thought life was all about being possessed and beholden to someone. The sounds of battle outside finally reminded him. He forced himself to slide his fingers around her neck, though he found that he did so very lovingly, and it filled him with yet more anguish.
Then Lorn’s eyes flew open. Jaryd’s heart stopped and he took his hands off from around her neck.
“Jaryd? I still feel Huilian inside me. Is he not dead yet?” The drug had worn off and she wasn’t maniacal, but in a moment of innocent clarity.
He swallowed. Hard. “Not yet.”
She touched his face. “Why do you cry?”
He didn’t
realize he was.
“Jaryd?” Miraha snapped his name from outside.
Jaryd could not delay or Miraha would come back and do the evil herself.
“Lorn…” Jaryd took her hand and squeezed it as tightly as his heart. “Remember that I’m keeping my promise to you.” His heart breaking, he slid both hands around her neck. He shut his eyes and squeezed.
She gurgled. Her fingers turned into claws and tried to pry his strong fingers off before trying to claw his face. She arched her body and thrashed her legs, pounding like thunder on the wood.
“Trust me,” Jaryd whispered through tears that had fallen in his mouth. “I’ll keep my promise to you.”
She stopped fighting, but Jaryd did not know if she had died or merely passed out. His fingers shook as he pulled them away, hating Gildeon… hating himself if he was unable to bring her back.
A black cloud lifted from her body. It startled Jaryd and he scrambled to the opposite side of the carriage. The black cloud was a shapeless thing, churning and roiling inside itself as if desiring shape. Then it fled through the roof of the carriage and Jaryd heard a whine and hooves pounding away down the hill.
Jaryd went back to Lorn. Her eyes were open and her mouth was slack, but her expression told that this was the first time she had ever felt peace.
The War Queen
Gildeon followed the soul, but it was speeding ahead too quickly. He toyed with the idea of not delivering Lorn’s soul. He already had to maneuver strategically through the battlefield and it was too chancy to test his luck two more times. He wasn’t so much worried about himself, but if his horse went down, he would be much longer at reaching Huilian.
But he would try. Because he felt bad for the girl too.
He narrowly missed a blow from a Ruid blade who had uncoiled to deliver a strike to his enemy.
Huilian was standing alone in his area, as if Ruids and Blindvarns saw his massive stature and wouldn’t dare, or had already tried and found the act to be fruitless. But Huilian’s head looked upward. With a sound Gildeon could only translate as dark joy, the black cloud Gildeon had been following dove into Huilian’s armor. In an instant, Huilian’s slightly transparent visage became solid and he drew a spiked mace as large as a man from his side.