by Troy A Hill
Bait
I was alone in my thoughts.
But the others could talk. Enid and Talian told Ruadh our story of the last two days. How the dead attacked Nant Bywyd, and again at Caer Penllyn. How Enid came to be used to capture me. After they finished, he told his story of how he tracked the other shifter.
“I smelled him,” Ruadh said from the pole next to me. “I was running in the borderlands. I found decimated livestock. And the family was dead. I heard and smelled him inside a farmhouse. But when I touched the latch on the door, I could nae move.”
“The other shifter,” Ruadh’s voice rumbled in the chilly night air, “he was there. He slipped the metal collar around me neck. That was all I remember. I woke up tied to this pole.”
“We have no choice now,” Enid said with a brave streak in her voice, “but to work to escape. Can you move at all, Brother Ruadh?”
“Nae, just my head,” he grumbled. “That wizard did something in this torc. It nae allow me to move.” I had seen enough of Ruadh’s bare chest to realize that the other shifter had been adding injury to the insult of being tied. Claw marks, fresh and healing sliced my friend’s torso. That bastard shifter was dragging his claws across Ruadh every time he walked by the post. And Ruadh could do nothing about it, if he could only move his head.
“Then Talian and I shall do our best so we can free you and Mair,” Enid said and wiggled in her bonds.
Across the valley, battle raged at Caer Penllyn. Fadog was another puppet of the guilders. Or had been. Count on Fadog to screw even that up. I wondered what they had promised him.
“Oh good, they’re retreating.” Enid breathed. “Mair?” Her chains clanked. I shifted my eyes as far as I could to see her. Just a corner of my vision caught her, but it was enough. “I can see your eyes, Mair. Can you understand me still?”
I blinked once.
“Good. Are we a trap? Do they want Emlyn and Cadoc to come rescue us?” Again, I blinked once for yes.
“I was afraid of that.” She muttered angry words under her breath.
Enid wriggled and strained hard against her bonds with one arm. It plopped out of the manacle. I could smell blood. She must have scraped her hand as she pulled it free.
The air in front of us wavered, then the night was still. The sense crept over me that we were now visible, thought I didn’t know how I knew. The hilltop just felt suddenly naked. The pile of wood in front of us sprang alight. Bechard. He had dropped the spell that hid us from sight and set the bonfire ablaze with his magic. We’d now be visible to those from Caer Penllyn. Fadog’s force fell back through the village. Penllyn men on horses streamed out of the gates of the caer and followed Fadog and his bait, away from the Caer where they were actually needed. Lecerf’s army would overrun the caer easily with half its force gone. What was Emlyn thinking? But, then I remembered. He didn’t know about the undead army a short walk away. He and Bleddyn only knew Fadog was the enemy.
Something shimmered before me. It slid to the side. What the hell?
“Ah, I see,” Seren’s voice came from behind me. Enid drew a sharp intake of breath. A brief glow of white light appeared by my head. Something made a clicking sound. Seren pulled the torc off me.
Sensation rushed down my spine to every finger and toe. I wiggled a foot, hardly realizing I did it until a split second later. My body was mine again!
I jerked my arms from the manacles and spun. But no one was there. Onion Breath and The Hunchback’s lifeless eyes stared straight ahead as they shuffled to get behind me again. They seemed to take their orders to follow me very seriously.
“Seren?” I sent out. “Where are you?”
“I'm freeing Ruadh. Hold on.”
“Invisible?” I sent. Had she been taking spell lessons from Bechard? That seemed to be his forte. Making large groups of people and undead undetectable.
“Yes, with The Lady’s assistance,” Seren added. I could see the shimmer move near Ruadh. But no Seren. If I hadn’t looked for the waver in the air, I wouldn’t have known she was there.
“Don’t move yet,” I sent to her. I expected she was about to reveal herself. “There is an army of Witch Hunter fighters and undead on the hill behind this one. They’re probably on their way if they’ve seen me move.”
“I understand,” she sent back. “Gwen, now would be a good time for your wall spell.”
“Yes, dear one,” she sent. My heart sang with joy as I felt her presence near, but still distant. “Mair, I missed you.”
“You have no idea how much I missed all of you,” I sent. “Where are you?”
“In the treeline at the bottom of the hill,” Gwen sent as the plants continued after a beat.
The ground around the poles heaved. Plants, trees, and brambles erupted from the ground and formed an oblong circle around the four posts and our fire. The prickly wall of matted branches and thorns was about thirty feet high.
“That will only last a few moments. Move swiftly, dearest.” She was right. I needed to move. I had an army to face. An army of undead, led by a few wizards that needed to all be a head shorter, and soon. But I had two of those undead in here with me. Inside Gwen’s wall of thorny plants.
My link to The Lady was back. I pulled magic from my demon for speed. I grabbed the old sword from Onion Breath’s lifeless hand, then pumped the rusty blade full of The Lady’s magic. Onion Breath’s head parted from his shoulders. Another swing and the Hunchback’s head followed. But the blade broke. I glanced at the other blade, hungry for something to defend myself with. But Hunchback’s sword was in even worse shape than his friend’s.
“How did you find me?” I sent.
“The wolves told us,” Gwen replied. I reached out with my mind. About two dozen wolves waited in the forest at the base of the hill. I sensed Petram, his brother, and Mother among the packs. I sent them an image of me petting their heads and scratching their ears. I also sensed about a score of men and some horses near where the wolves watched and waited.
“The men at the gate almost chased the wolves away today. Fortunately Brother Iolo wandered in right then. Remember he is half Sidhe? He understood the wolves’ message and relayed your request to Seren.”
“Iolo?” That was a name I had almost forgotten about. Ruadh’s climbing companion. The prior of Abbey Penllyn. He had gone to see his mother, a Sidhe princess or such, and was known for being distracted by cliffs to climb. I shook my head. I had heard of Ruadh’s and Iolo’s epic climbs up sheer cliff faces. No wonder Iolo was know for being tardy.
“Where was our missing monk?” I asked as I channelled more of The Lady’s power and used it as blunt force to cause the locks on the shackles to pop open. Enid gave me a tight hug as her other arm dropped from the shackle.
“He found another valley with a cliff he hadn’t noticed before,” Gwen sent with a mental chuckle. “He and Ruadh will probably be back there a week after we finish cleaning this mess up.”
“Damn, I need a sword,” I muttered, recalling Dead Osbert. It would be a real pleasure to kill him a second time.
“Emlyn is coming with your blade on his back,” Gwen sent.
I glanced at the far post. By now Seren had Ruadh almost free. She was visible. Or part of her was. Her head and hands appeared out of thin air. The rest of her was impossible to see, even with my undead eyes.
“The Lady loaned Seren Arthur’s cloak,” Gwen sent. “It shows only what the wearer wants others to see. I gave it to him as a blessing from The Lady, just as I gave him The Lady’s Sword of Light.”
At last, the manacles dropped from Ruadh’s wrists. Seren’s hands glowed as she traced Ruadh’s wounds to heal them.
“The Witch Hunter, Lecerf, he’s the real power in the guild,” I warned Gwen. “Bechard is his mouthpiece, and a lesser wizard. Lecerf is the wizard we’ve been looking for. He’s got a huge army of dead near us—just down the hill behind a veil of concealment. And he can control me with that damned torc. Oh, and he wants Cadoc’
s sword of light –“
“Cadoc’s sword is not the sword of Light,” Gwen replied.
“But it shines with The Lady’s light?” I remembered well how it had glowed when Gwen blessed it on his wedding day, and again when he and I fought Lecerf’s pet shifter in the cave where Bleddyn was trying to bleed to death.
“No, dearest,” Gwen replied. “Although Cadoc’s sword is blessed by The Lady, it is not the Sword of Light. That blade was laid to rest over a century ago when Arthur, The Lady’s chosen champion, died. Only the Lady’s true warrior may wield it to protect the land and the people. You’ve seen that sword before, dear one.”
I had? When?
Seren stepped towards me. Her hands and arms, visible to her elbow, held the two silver torcs that had imprisoned Ruadh and me, as well as the manacles that had bound my friends. Her face, also visible, was solemn, as if etched in stone. A shift had come over her entire demeanour, as if the old, timid Seren had passed into the next world and a new, queenly Seren had emerged.
“The Lady sends her warrioress a blade,” Seren said. The Goddess’s voice overlaid hers—two voices emerging together as one. Seren's hands glowed with The Lady’s divine fire. White hot. The metal pieces began to sag, softening in on themselves like butter, then pooled in her palms. The molten metal dribbled from her glowing fingers and seeped into the rocky ground. As the crevice filled it continued to pile upon itself. I shielded my eyes from the bright light of the magical metal. After the last drop had fallen, the glow shifted to red. At my feet, a hilt rose from a split in the rock at my feet. A red serpentine form flashed from the mists inside the round pommel stone.
The Lady’s sword. This must be the Sword of Light. Holy… I was supposed to pull it?
A breeze blew gently across the hilltop, stirring the ends of my hair and the hem of my dress. Pull forth my blade and protect the land, a voice whispered on the wind.
I didn’t move, but mentally checked in with Gwen. I sent no question. No words. Nothing more than a quirked eyebrow. Was this real? Was I indeed meant to touch—to wield—The Lady’s own sword?
I sensed Gwen smile. “Yes, dearest. Protect Penllyn. Protect Britain.”
I bent and wrapped my hands around the hilt and pulled. The stone groaned. Steel rasped against rock. I pulled forth the glowing blade, a great two handed blade. Long and almost unwieldy for a normal girl of my size. Fortunately I had my undead strength and stamina. This blade was heavy. And gorgeous. A blade more than fit for a king. Golden dragons twisted a third of the way up each side of the blade. This was the blade of a goddess.
Protect my people, The Lady’s voice whispered again. Shivers raced up and down my spine.
A snarl rent the air behind us. We whirled. Gwen’s plant wall shook and shimmied as something on the other side tore at the branches. Bjørulf. I smelled his shifter blood. One entire section, a dozen feet long, shook as he clawed at it. Ruadh prowled the edge of the wall. A low growl rumbled from his throat as he kept pace with the other lycanthrope, sending him warnings.
“Tear it down!” a high, thin voice screeched.
Lecerf! Beyond, I heard the shouts of many voices, the clanging of weapons, the unmistakeable rattle of marching skeleton feet. The Witch Hunter armies, both alive and undead, were here.
I turned to Seren. “Can you tree-walk Enid and Talian out of here?”
Enid opened her mouth to object. I knew she wanted a sword and a chance to join the fight for her home. For Penllyn. But I glared at her. She’d risked enough, both in the fight at the side door of the keep and in the catacombs. I didn’t need her here to become a hostage again. Once was enough. At the look in my eye, she shut her mouth and nodded.
“I’m staying here.” Talian’s voice squeaked as he squared his shoulders. He scooped up the rusted sword that Hunchback’s corpse had carried.
I cringed, remembering his feeble attempts to fight the skeleton in the passageway under the abbey. “I can't watch your back,” I warned him. “There are too many of them. You should head back to the caer. Your girl, Bethan?” He nodded. “You won’t be able to marry her if you’re dead.”
He firmed up his grip on the battered hilt. “I cannot ask her, if I despise myself for running away. Not after what this lot did to us. Especially to Lady Enid and to you. I’m here to fight.”
I frowned and held his gaze for a beat. But he didn’t back down. The boy that had helped the witchers was gone. Talian had found his honour, found what made him a man. I couldn’t stand in his way.
“Get Enid back to Rhian,” I told Seren, but left the link to Gwen open so she could sense my words. “The shifter locked the abbot and his monks in the cellar in the abbey.”
“Brother Iolo will head there now,” Gwen sent.
Seren touched one of the stout wooden poles we had been chained to. The red rift opened easily. Enid gasped, but smiled. I cocked an eyebrow in question at Seren.
“The Lady was correct. One burden had to lift before I could find my true calling.” Seren smiled. Her marriage to Dewi had evidently stifled her in more ways than we imagined. Seren gave a gentle push to Enid. My young sword student stepped into the rift and glanced around in wonder. Then she turned back to me as Seren stepped in behind her.
“We love you, Mair,” Enid said before the red slit closed behind them. Damn. I loved her, and all of Penllyn. This was my home.
When they were gone, I glanced at Ruadh. His face was more bear than human. A long tongue hung from his mouth, a mouth lined with fangs. His hands and feet were thick, tipped with vicious claws.
“Ready?” I asked.
“Aye. There be a score I need to settle.” A growl rumbled in his chest. It was clear he hadn’t forgotten the wounds the other shifter had given him.
Talian stepped close, the rusty sword clenched in his fist. He swallowed then nodded at me. I wished I had another sword to give him. He’d be lucky to get one swing with that one. But the Sword of Light, despite its length and bulk, was the only one I had.
“Here we go,” I said out loud.
“Drop your wall, love.” I sent to Gwen. “I need to have a pointed conversation with a wizard.”
41
Sword of Light
I felt my demon stir within me as Gwen’s wall began to wilt and drop its leaves. A few hours bound in a torc had filled me with fire. “I’ll try to save at least one for you,” I said to Talian.
The wall of plants, trees, and brambles collapsed into a pile and withered. With a snarl, Ruadh leapt at Bjørulf. They rolled and clawed at each other. Outside the wall, two or three score of the Witch hunter’s men stood with shocked expressions. I realized the blaze of the huge fire was at my back. I held the Lady’s Sword, the Sword of Light in a two handed grip, ready to take them on. And they probably expected to see a bunch of people tied to poles.
But the forty or so men at arms were the least of my worries. Skeletal undead—numbering in the hundreds—shuffled up behind them.
Pedr stood right in front of me. His hands were alight with purple flame. A spell of some sort.
Though the Sword of Light was almost weightless in my hands, it was longer than I was used to. To balance its extra six inches, I had both hands on the hilt.
Pedr shifted his weight and thrust his hand out. Purple light flared towards me.
I pulled speed from my demon to spin the blade.
The Lady’s sword collided with Pedr’s spell. Damn! This sword was longer than I was used to. It dug a furrow in the grass. On the follow-through, I sliced into the traitor’s wrist and took off his hand.
Pedr’s shocked expression seemed slow. He howled in pain and clutched the bleeding stump to his chest. I flicked the sword back and brought it around my head for the death blow.
"Die, you backstabbing son of a cur!"
My demon fed me a new burst of speed. I sliced the traitor’s neck wide open.
Which was not what I had intended. I had meant to send his head flying. I glanced at my weap
on. The sword had shortened itself to the length I preferred.
Suddenly feeling completely at home with my new blade, I didn’t stay to watch the traitor fall. I let my demon sing the song of the night as she fed me more power and speed.
Another blow and another fighter fell. Then another. And another. The humans were in retreat. The undead warriors advanced from three sides to take their place. These were old Roman legionnaires. Lecerf must have been raiding graves all over Cymru. They held curved, wooden shields, most in poor condition and giving little protection. Between the shields, they thrust spears or the odd gladius, the short sword of the legions. They closed in on three sides of Talian and I. No escape except back towards Caer Penllyn, and away from Lecerf.
The old wizard’s eyes widened when they fell upon the glowing blade. He pointed with a shaking hand. “That IS the blade,” his whiny voice shouted from behind the skeletons. “Take it from her.” His voice dripped with longing.
He wanted this sword. He’d get it soon enough. I hoped to present it to him—slicing through his neck. I couldn’t let the skeletons drive us back. I had to get to that damned wizard before he could use the graves to open a portal and escape. Unfortunately, several hundred undead blocked him from my blade.
The skeletons pressed forward. Deodamnatus! There were way too many undead for me to make headway. “Any chance of reinforcements?” I sent to Gwen. “I seem to have found that undead army Bleddyn’s been worried about.”
“We’re to your left, dearest.”
I glanced down the hill. Caerwyn’s banner flew from a pike as two dozen humans ran out of the tree line. Caerwyn, Cadoc, and Gwen were behind them on horseback. From this distance I couldn’t see any wounds on her. She looked the same as she normally did. I smiled, thrilled to see her again. But, I had an army to deal with.
As much as the sight filled me with relief and courage, our numbers were still woefully small against this horde of hundreds. I glanced at Talian. He had very intelligently swapped out his old rusted sword for Pedr’s. But slightly pale, he took in the advancing undead army. I didn’t feel he had lost his nerve. He kept a decent grip on his new-found weapon. Something else was wrong.