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Legend of Ecta Mastrino Box Set

Page 96

by B J Hanlon


  “Arianne!” he shouted, his voice seemingly muffled by the fabric.

  “Here,” the voice was just as quiet and seemed to be coming from somewhere ahead. Edin used Mirage and sliced through it. He pushed through like a man trying to walk through water.

  “Where?” he called. He could hear the rumbling of people trying to flee all around him.

  “Here,” her voice was strained. “The pole.”

  Edin cut through more canvas, splitting it like scissors through paper.

  Then he saw her, in a seated position, her back against what had been a bedframe with a fallen post across her legs.

  Edin dropped down next to her, he pressed his lips to hers, but she didn’t kiss back.

  “It hurts…” she said.

  Edin glanced at the pole, it was probably a foot in diameter and at least ten long. He hugged it pressing his legs into the ground and tried to lift.

  His back and arms burned and Arianne cried out. It wouldn’t move, but he wasn’t giving up.

  In the distance, he heard explosions, at this distance they popped like dried corn in the kettle but he knew they were growing closer. “I wanted to make the bed perfect for the couple,” she whispered.

  “Looks great,” he said through gritted teeth. But he didn’t stop trying to lift. He strained, the necessity of moving this now beat at him quicker than ever. He tried adjusting his grip. He reached under with both arms and squatted.

  “I’m going to try to lift that way,” Edin said nodding with his head, “you slide out this.”

  Her head lolled. “I love you,” she said.

  The words pushed into his soul, they were like a pump pushing clean water through disused pipes. But this pump was one of energy, determination. Edin didn’t feel his body anymore. He felt nothing but the pounding knowledge that he had but moments before a second barrage was to land and hh ee couldn’t let her die. They were meant to be together.

  Edin lifted trying to straighten his legs and back. All of his muscles screaming. There was a slight creek in the wood and he heard Arianne cry out. He lifted, or thought he did. Inching up. She moaned and something kicked his foot. His knees locked.

  Edin didn’t know if she was out. His hands felt slick. Edin strained his back, using every muscle he could.

  “Out…” she whispered.

  He released and dropped down, he fell forward, legs tripping over the post. His jaw smacked the bedframe and his head snapped back.

  He felt a hand on him as he turned over and looked up. Arianne was next to him, the crushed bedframe acting as a wall, its frame keeping the canvas from smothering them. Through a gash, he could see brilliant orange orbs coming down toward them. Arianne placed a hand on his chest.

  “It’s a beautiful night,” she said looking up through the same hole. Her strained voice quaked. “I wonder if this was how it happened to my father, unable to use his talent to protect himself.” A bright flash appeared somewhere off to the right. Then above, another orb seemed to be directed directly on top of them. “I’m glad I’m here with you,” she said.

  Edin’s mind was buzzing, his body hurt, but he had to protect her, save her, everything screamed as he rolled to his side, his body was verging on collapse.

  He crawled on top of her and laid flat. Her arms wrapped around his back and she kissed him. Edin felt his heart leap.

  A deafening explosion came somewhere above him and he felt a twisting in his stomach. He latched onto something deep within him. A part unknown to his brain or his body as he closed his eyes. He heard nothing and just kept his lips moving with Arianne’s.

  Then he felt her tapping his shoulder. Edin opened his eyes.

  Around them was a dome of ethereal light holding up a portion of the tent. On top of it, right above his torso was a black stone.

  As he took note, the shield disappeared and a heavy piece of metal dropped to his back. “Ow!” he groaned as he felt the piece bruise his spine. At least it didn’t kill him.

  “How’d you do that?” Arianne asked.

  Edin didn’t answer. He tried standing but couldn’t. Then he heard people to his right knocking things back.

  “Here, help him.” Edin knew the voice but couldn’t place it. Soon he was lifted up and being carried through the debris of the tent. He was put on a wooden surface and closed his eyes.

  Edin woke to the cart rumbling beneath him. People were breathing heavy all around, some groaning. Something tight was wrapped around his head, when Edin opened his eyes he saw a bit of cloth at the edge of his vision. But that wasn’t what mattered.

  Arianne was above him, cradling his head in her lap and staring over her shoulder.

  He lifted his heavy head, the muscles in his neck felt like sap.

  “You shouldn’t…”

  Edin shook his head and tried to sit, it took effort and a lot of will power just to do that. His head had been on half of her lap, she had one leg up and the second bandaged around the thigh. There was blood on the wrapping.

  She helped him sit and then hugged him and rested a cheek on his shoulder.

  They were on the road, and far behind him, Edin saw his home, the tower completely engulfed in fire. The second home he’d had and it was torched like the first.

  “How many?” Edin asked.

  “We don’t know…” she whispered. Other people were in the back of the wagon as well, Dorset was one. He was holding a bloody arm across his body, his head swaying back and forth with his long blond hair matted and dirty.

  The wagon stopped in front of Baili’s tavern, the lights were on and it looked like a field hospital.

  People were lying on mats. The healers flitted between the injured looking just as ragged as the people they helped. Some were running on adrenaline, others were dragging.

  Casitas appeared in the door of the tavern, his brosons flanking him. Then he moved toward a small tent and ducked inside. He heard thunder from somewhere high above him and wasn’t sure if it was another attack or the sky opening up.

  “People, we need to get into the city,” Casitas called appearing back outside, “when you have healed sufficiently to move, please join one of the arriving carts.

  The tailgate of the cart opened next to him and Henny appeared. His giant girth blotting out the burning tower. He slapped Edin on the shoulder. “Good to see ya boy,” he said.

  Edin grimaced and nodded. He pulled himself out, Arianne followed. Henny and Cannopina helped Dorset, whose face was pale.

  She grimaced trying to help hold her new husband. “You are the bravest man I know,” she whispered and kissed him on the cheek.

  They moved toward an open mat and she helped lay him down.

  “What happened?” Edin asked. But Arianne shrugged. He touched the wound on the side of his head. It stung but he felt alright except for the excruciating weariness, a sore back, sore muscles, and a nauseous feeling in his gut.

  “Do you need a healer?” Arianne asked.

  “No,” he said, “where’s Le Fie?”

  After some searching, they found him in the tavern sitting behind a table with Tor and a large map of the isles. A white bandage was wrapped around the spy’s calf. The three fingers of the Reaches were marked with a huge red X.

  The tower wasn’t a palace, not even as nice as the manor, but it was his home for a short time. It was gone with all those innocent people.

  He began to feel his pulse quicken as he thought of the child with one leg, the lady falling into the sea, and the old man holding up the arm of his dead wife.

  He fought back sadness and fury as Arianne tried to help him to a chair. Edin waived her off. His body was tired, but he was focusing on something. Something building in his body the way it had when the Justicar and the villagers murdered his mother and Kes.

  He hadn’t avenged them… now he was here and a cowardly attack was thrust upon them by the same men who committed such a heinous murder.

  “Good you’re here. How long between attacks?�
� Tor’s voice rose breaking the quiet. No one answered and when Edin looked up he saw the old man looking at him.

  “I didn’t see a clock,” Edin said in a tone harsher than he wanted.

  “Estimate.”

  Edin shrugged his shoulders.

  “Five minutes, maybe less,” Arianne said.

  “That’s a long time, reload issues?” he asked Le Fie.

  “I’m just guessing here.” Edin whispered. “I’d think they’re fired from trebuchets on the ships.”

  Le Fie was nodding then said. “The energy used to fling the attacks this far must put a lot of momentum into the ship. It’ll rock the vessel and move it out of position.”

  “It makes sense,” Tor said rubbing his chin. “How do we counter that? And, what if they begin to launch in shifts?”

  Silence came over the room. Edin heard a pair of boots stop outside of the tavern door. It opened and Casitas came back in. He glared at Edin for a moment then said, “the scryers tell me the invaders withdrew.”

  “They’ll be back,” Edin said.

  “Oh? I thought they’d head back home and begin sowing peace blankets,” Casitas spat. “He may be strong, but he isn’t that bright,” he said motioning toward Edin. “We need a plan to destroy these people. I think I know…”

  “You have known only theory, it’s not the same as experience nephew,” Tor said, “there’s only one magi we know of who has been present in a real full scale battle with mundanes.”

  Confused looks rose on everyone’s faces.

  “My father,” Edin said.

  “No one knows where that traitor is,” Casitas said, “and if we did, he’d have his head on the chopping block like that one should.”

  “And I thought we were becoming friends,” Edin said.

  “We have to rely on theory,” Le Fie put in, “this is basically a siege, water is no issue for us, it will be for them. So, they’re going to try to invade the isles, get a foothold before we can halt them. If I were them, I’d send elite troops to different areas to scale the cliffs.”

  Tor nodded. “I agree. We’ll need scouts and magi to fight back the attackers.”

  Edin groaned. “I will stay, but I’ll need help.”

  “We should consolidate our position, Delrot is as good a place as any. We need to barricade the buildings and blockade the bridges.” Casitas said, but it was clear he wasn’t getting through to Tor who said nothing. “I cannot spare any men, the only place to land is the beach or docks. The waters north are hopefully still impassable.” He glanced at Edin. “The reefs around the isle makes it hard to approach from the open water… then they’d have to climb the cliffs. A frontal assault is their best option.”

  “And the one you’re expecting. Don’t be a fool Casitas, I have been in this business for decades before you were even a seed in your mother’s body,” Tor said. “The reef still guards much of the port and beach. The wards and magical traps have been set. They may try, but I suspect they’ll also try to get that foothold somewhere else.”

  He sighed. “I can spare one unit of brosons,” he turned to the silent man that was next to him cloaked in a black hood so Edin couldn’t see his face. “Get the twelfth.”

  “The twelfth?”

  He nodded.

  “Edin will lead, I want hourly status reports,” Tor said.

  Casitas was about to protest but Tor silenced him with a glare. There was something about the old man, now Edin thought him to be a former spymaster. Probably held all of the secrets on the island. Maybe the possibility of that, caused Casitas to not protest any more.

  Casitas turned to Edin. “We are levying every man and woman who can hold a blade. Watch our back outsider.”

  A strong and dirty man entered, he looked to hold a permanent scowl of anger and hatred. Casitas ordered him to follow Edin’s directions. Then they made the plan, a four-man team at each post, one to the north, northeast and east of Brackland. Others on the south, southeast and east of Newland.

  They sent the men out to start their watch and Edin found a small corner with a bedroll and laid down with Arianne cuddled next to him. He needed to sleep because the war was here.

  18

  Invasion

  The floor groaned and a chair creaked. There was a dim firelight casting dark shadows over the tavern. All around him, people slept on bedrolls. The soft shink of a blade being sharpened sounded off to his left.

  Le Fie was sitting in a chair looking uneasy, he was pale, and in the light his eyes were sunk into his head like depressions in a murky grassland.

  Edin pried himself out of the cot and moved closer to the man, Le Fie almost didn’t acknowledge Edin and seemed surprised. His mouth creaked open, his lips looked dry.

  “You should still sleep.”

  “Some cratmonger is causing a racket.”

  “Better than out there… I can’t handle the cries anymore. In my line of work you know of things, you see things. The killing of young ones and women, the torturing of men… I once saw a black cloak slice into a tearful mother holding her wailing child. The tears stopped from the woman and then the child a moment later. I used a garrote, he never saw it coming… but he felt it.” Silence followed as Le Fie seemed to stare off at a pile of human bodies beneath a blanket.

  “We’re just abominations to them,” Edin whispered sitting on the table and covering the southernmost part of Newland on the map.

  “You’re due to begin your rounds, I have a scrying dish set up, but there’s a cool wind blowing a fog in from the south. Go that way, I have a feeling it’s not natural.”

  The shink of the blade being sharpened sent a chill down his spine.

  “When are you moving them?” Edin nodded at the mass of people.

  “At first light. I don’t want to be out here if the blotards do climb the walls.”

  Edin couldn’t sleep anymore. Outside the sun was hidden behind the dull gray clouds. There were a pair of horses for him. One to ride while the other was in case of an emergency.

  Edin took off, he pounded across the wooden bridge and over the deep canyon to Newland. Below, he saw cascades of stone crisscross the slow-moving water. He followed the road and passed the farm he’d worked. Small green leaves burst from the mounds and rows and he wondered how many would grow to maturity and who’d be left to eat the literal fruits of his labor.

  The horses clapped along, there were no workers today but the shack had steady stream of gray smoke rising from it.

  Edin plotted past another flat field, until he saw the land simply disappearing in the distance. The closer he got to the ocean, the larger it looked. And then he saw the fog.

  A hazy white nimbus off shore. It dropped from the clouds like on a slide.

  Off to the right, he spied a group of dark figures, they sat around a small fire. There was a white and brown horse a few feet away chomping on grass.

  He spurred his own horses toward them and nearly leapt off just short of the camp. A man was lying in a bed roll, his snoring was louder than the waves.

  “Brosons…” Edin said. One of the men was a guard that had worked for Placisus. The man nodded at Edin. “How are you doing?”

  “It’s bleeding freezing out,” one of the men growled.

  “Have you seen anything?”

  “No.” The guard said.

  Edin felt the chill from the water and carefully, he moved toward the edge of the cliff and glanced over. Consciously, he listened for the movement of the brosons behind him wondering if they’d push him over.

  There was no movement on the rocks, no sign of any boats and Edin turned back. The men hadn’t moved.

  “Do you need anything?”

  One said, “coffee or whiskey, heck both if ya can scrounge it up.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Coffee maybe, whiskey no. Edin thought. He got back on his mount and rode east following the cliff face. He stared out to sea while the horses made sure they didn’t take a tumble over the edge.r />
  He passed between an orchard and the edge of the cliff. There were large bulbous apples hanging like tears from the swaying trees.

  Ahead of him, he saw a thick, grassless protrusion sticking out like a needle into the sea. He carefully rode to the edge and stopped. He felt the wind cutting through his clothes and shivered. Looking to the east and west, he saw no movement. He was probably a league or two away from the last camp, how far to the next he didn’t know.

  There was a lot of open space. They could come from anywhere and wondered why hadn’t anyone built watchtowers, just in case.

  In the distance, a bell began to clang. The peals floating like birds on the breeze. His ears perked up but he couldn’t tell the location. Edin spun, trying to listen. It seemed to be coming from the east, but maybe also the west. North? He had no idea.

  Edin hoped on the fresh horse and dragged along the tired one. The horse turned east. As good a guess as any.

  He galloped that way, toward the southeastern most spot on the map. He rode the horse hard and over the edge on the rocks below had something else. Blueish gray vessels. Posts, like large stakes were drove into the ground with ropes tied to them leaping over the side and down toward the sea.

  Soon, he saw movement and the sounds of battle raging before him. The bell was suddenly silenced. He kicked the horse and began pounding toward the fighting just as it was beginning to die. The forms were shadowed beneath a copse of lonely ash trees.

  Edin saw sparks of blades but couldn’t make out who was who. He vaulted from the horse and felt the twist in his gut. He let loose his hand as a torrent of wind blasted at two lonesome fighters.

  Branches snapped and whipped around. A thin tree keeled over and flashed back up like a whip. He could see the dark corpses of men, some in black, others partially armored with the crests of their houses on them.

  One rose to his feet first, a thick man with a huge greatsword in his fingers. The tabard was that of a blue stag on a gray field. Frestils.

  Edin drew his sword as the man noticed him. Edin dropped to his knees and slid below a mighty horizontal blow. He left Mirage out, dragging it across the man’s unguarded stomach.

 

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