Heart of Black Ice (Sister of Darkness: The Nicci Chronicles Book 4)

by Terry Goodkind

  Olgya joined them at the bow, her hair undone from her usual braids, the strands uneven. She had used her gift to summon wind, pushing the metal-clad ships at greater speed and closing the distance to the Norukai. Now that they approached, she stretched out her fingers and relaxed, undoing the mist spell that had created a blurring veil around their ships. The fog dissipated, revealing them . . . but the Norukai were looking forward, expecting nothing from the open sea behind them.

  Ahead, Otto could see Tanimura with its great harbor ten times the size of Serrimundi’s. The tremendous battle had already begun, and he heard the shouts and screams, the clang of metal, the hulls splintering as ships collided with the harbor blockade. The Norukai rowed furiously, slamming into the line of defensive ships.

  “Nathan is there,” Olgya said, nodding to herself, “as well as Oron and Perri. They are putting up a strong gifted defense.”

  Otto could see many wrecked serpent ships sinking after being battered by a succession of huge waves. “They’ve done good work already.”

  “And we’ll do more.” Olgya spread her arms wide and brought them together with a resounding clap. With the release of her gift, she sent a shock wave through the water, creating a line that was at first a ripple, building higher and higher into a great rolling wave that hurtled toward the rear of the attacking serpent ships. “Our first blow will get their attention.”

  In the smooth wake behind Olgya’s wave, the harborlord saw streaking scaled figures, hundreds of the muscular selka as they raced forward to join the attack. The rolling wave crashed into the rear line of serpent ships.

  On their decks, the Norukai fighters whirled and screamed in outrage at the surprise attack. Then the selka surged up the hulls.

  Otto laughed, and Captain Ganley shouted for his archers. Within moments, a blizzard of flaming arrows arced through the sky and pelted the wood and sails of the raider ships.

  But that was only the beginning. Closing in like the jaws of a trap, the Serrimundi ships joined the battle.

  *

  Nathan fought to keep his head above the blood-churned water. Grieve’s damaged ship creaked against the weathered krakener, scraping the new armor plates with a flurry of sparks. When the waves buffeted him, he was nearly crushed between the two hulls, but he used his gift to shove the ships apart and just barely save himself. He sprayed water between his lips. “That would have been an embarrassing end for a great wizard.”

  On the Chaser’s deck above, he could hear the fighting, the clash of metal and battering clubs. A dying Norukai splashed into the water beside him, clawing at the gaping wound in his chest.

  Nathan’s boots and soaked cape weighed him down, but he kept himself afloat in the rough waves and worked his way along the side of the Chaser. He yelled up, “Someone throw me a rope! I can help if I get up there.” Since they were fighting for their lives, though, no one paid attention to the man in the water.

  Nathan knew Bannon and Lila were skilled fighters, but the Norukai were nearly inhuman. Frustrated, he dug in with his nails, trying to climb the wet and slimy hull boards. His boot found purchase on a clump of old barnacles, and he pulled himself higher, reaching up until he caught the frame of a porthole above the waterline. He grasped the lip of wood with his fingertips and used it for purchase, straining to climb just a little higher until he was out of the water, dripping like a waterlogged dog.

  Partway up the hull, he found himself stuck. He couldn’t reach the rail still two feet above his extended arm. He clawed for a higher grip, struggled to keep his footing, but the leather soles of his boots were smooth, and they slipped on the boards. He tried to hold on to the porthole frame, but found himself falling backward. Instinctively, he used the gift to create a wall of wind. Under normal circumstances, he would have used the push of air against an enemy, but now he used the same magic to form a cushion beneath him. With a hard shove, he used the burst of air to throw his body higher until he tumbled over the rail. He sprawled across the deck, which was slippery with blood and old slime.

  He rolled to his feet, ready to fight. Bannon and Lila faced him, panting hard to catch their breath, both covered in blood. The headless corpse of King Grieve lay on the deck, with an apelike Norukai woman sprawled next to him.

  Captain Jared and his men quickly cornered the few remaining Norukai aboard the Chaser. Feeling left out, Nathan called a carefully directed bolt of lightning to blast the last raider standing.

  Bedraggled and drenched, Nathan stepped up to Bannon and clasped his shoulder. “Are you all right, my boy?”

  The young swordsman stared at the headless body of the Norukai king, and a smile slowly dawned on his face. “Yes, I’m just fine.”

  When Nathan shook his head, clumps of white hair flopped from side to side. With a sniff, he summoned his gift, evaporated the water, and refreshed his clothes. “If we are going to have even a small victory, then my appearance should appropriately reflect it.”

  Bannon looked at the blood on his sword, Grieve’s blood. “Thank you again for this fine blade, Nathan. I would have killed as many with Sturdy, but your sword was perfectly acceptable.”

  “Glad you enjoyed it, my boy, but this little tussle is just a tiny ripple in the overall battle for Tanimura.” He looked toward the shore. “We have much more to do.” The momentum of the Norukai navy had been broken, but many serpent ships had slipped past the blockade and pressed to shore, where the raiders were now ransacking the waterfront district. Fires rose from the city.

  Then Nathan stared in disbelief as General Utros’s army appeared in the hills above Tanimura!

  “Dear spirits, we—” Before he could get the words out, Nathan felt a black surge inside, pain that echoed through his chest and entire body. The remnants of Ivan seized his heart, and Nathan dropped to his knees on the deck, gasping, unable to scream. His heart fought to keep beating.

  Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

  He had struggled to keep control of his new heart ever since Fleshmancer Andre had finished his work, but all of Nathan’s good deeds had not cleansed the corruption of that evil, violent man. He grimaced, curled back his lips. “No! You are dead. You . . . cannot . . . have your . . . heart.”

  Thump, thump. Thump, thump!

  Sparkles of pain drifted like black snowflakes inside his eyes. He clawed at his chest, but Ivan’s heart twisted as if turning itself inside out to punish Nathan. “You are not there!” he wheezed through clenched teeth. “You’re not real!”

  Lila and Bannon both grabbed his shoulders. “Nathan, what is it? How can we help?”

  He struggled against the spirit of Ivan.

  Thump, thump.

  Thump, thump.

  Thump.

  Nothing.

  Nathan’s eyes went wide as he felt his heart stop. He couldn’t breathe, and he fell forward onto the deck. He could sense nothing, only a void surrounding him like a cocoon. He twitched, trying to reassert control over his body, over his heart.

  Bannon and Lila were shaking him, and the krakener crew was shouting. He screamed silently inside his head as darkness suffocated him. Flickers of green mist gathered around him, and he heard a tempting call, a whisper, then a demand. “You are dead. You are mine.”

  Was it the Keeper? Or Ivan?

  I am not, he thought, but his lips could not form words. His anger increased. The last vestiges of his gift tightened around him, and Nathan used every scrap of energy and determination he had. You cannot have your heart back.

  With a surge of his gift, he pushed his heart, made it beat, tore the black presence to tatters. Ivan retreated into his bloodstream, but still lurked inside him. The greenish veil faded from his vision.

  Thump, thump.

  Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

  He heaved a great gasp of air. Bannon pulled him upright, pounded his back. “Nathan, are you all right?”

  “I’m alive. I just had a . . . disagreement with a visitor insid
e me.” He dragged himself to his feet, but wobbled. “I am all right.” He brushed aside their concerns and turned to watch the enormous army of General Utros encroach on the outskirts of Tanimura. He knew he needed to be there, to stay alive so he could help Nicci and the others with the grand fight.

  At the waterfront, many buildings were on fire, and he could see the furious clash as General Zimmer and the D’Haran army tried to hold the harbor district from the rampaging Norukai. But the enormous army of General Utros was a far larger threat.

  Out in the water there were at least forty serpent ships still intact. Nathan climbed to the krakener’s raised deck next to a disheveled Captain Jared, and they both gazed past the naval battle to the open sea beyond the harbor, where an unexpected group of warships was closing from behind. Nathan let out a cheer.

  Covered with blood, Bannon shaded his eyes. “Look! We have reinforcements!”

  Lila gave a nod of appreciation. “The navy from Serrimundi, of course. They followed, fully armed. They have come to join the fight.”

  An outcry of dismay rose from the remaining serpent ships, as the crews realized they would be crushed between two groups of attackers.

  Nathan smiled. “That should take care of King Grieve’s navy.”

  “Do not count a victory just yet.” Lila turned to look at the city, where the breathtaking forces of General Utros were closing in. “We still have to defeat that army, too.”

  Nathan realized their skills would be more vital for the battle inside the main city. He shook his head. “No, I do not believe we can count on a victory anytime soon. Captain Jared, we need you to take us to shore—posthaste!”

  CHAPTER 80

  The smell of blood, sweat, and dust combined into a powerful and, for Zimmer, all-too-familiar odor. Though sickening, the smell also fired the blood in his veins. It served as the fuel that kept him fighting.

  Tanimura’s waterfront warehouses burned behind him, and the blaze had already spread to another block of large buildings. Bitter smoke mixed with the reek of burning goods from the dockside market.

  As Zimmer squeezed his thighs to control his horse amid the mayhem, he could not count all the fallen D’Haran soldiers in the streets. A few more serpent ships ground up to the docks and released a new horde of wild barbarians. But Zimmer called the D’Haran army to shift their offensive. As a well-trained tactical commander, he knew that the ancient army of General Utros was a far greater threat than these chaotic Norukai. He directed his charge instead to meet the first lines of the invading ancient army.

  He raised his sword and yelled from the saddle, “All cavalry! Bear the brunt of the enemy advance, break their momentum. After that, archers, foot soldiers, it will be your turn.”

  The horse hooves clattered on the paved streets as they rushed toward the first division of the Utros army. One large force curved along the hills toward the Hagen Woods and the lower city, and Nicci and her enthusiastic militia fighters had gone to cut off the advance there. Another segment of the army, ten thousand or more under the banner of the veteran First Commander Enoch, marched directly toward the heart of the city.

  Utros’s strategy was clear. They would overwhelm and hold the center of Tanimura, then spread conquering forces throughout the districts, while the Norukai continued to ravage the harbor and the waterfront.

  Thorn and Lyesse sprinted just behind Zimmer. Even on foot, the two morazeth easily kept up with the cavalry riders. Thorn wasn’t even breathing hard as she called out, “Today is a day for much killing, General.”

  Lyesse chuckled. “I am glad we do not have to hide in the bushes anymore. I much prefer a full fight!”

  Gripping the hilt of his sword as he rode, Zimmer nodded to the two women. “You are welcome to cause as much mayhem as you like.”

  On the other side of the city, General Linden had marched his large portion of the D’Haran army to meet another division of the ancient army. He remembered a dictum he had pounded into his soldiers when they faced impossible odds. “Every war is a succession of battles. Each battle is won after many fights, hand to hand, sword to sword, life to life.”

  The D’Haran cavalry did not slow their charge as they careened into the ancient army. The enemy soldiers fought with an odd mixture of precision and abandon, and Zimmer recognized that something was not right about them. They seemed gaunter than the enemy he had fought at Cliffwall, more spent.

  His foot soldiers and archers jogged behind the cavalry, maintaining the general shape of their ranks. Just ahead, Zimmer could see First Commander Enoch, a tall hardened veteran whose scarred face held the burden of countless battles. From his dappled mount, Enoch’s icy eyes locked on Zimmer’s and knew his true foe. Although Zimmer was young for his rank, he carried the weight of many battles as well.

  As if their minds were connected, both commanders yelled a challenge at the same time, and the two men crashed together. Zimmer’s horse reared up, giving him height as he hacked down with his sword. His blade struck against the veteran’s chain mail, but Enoch parried, clashed his sword against his opponent’s. The older man surprised Zimmer by releasing the reins and grabbing a dagger in his other hand. He caught Zimmer in the side, cut into his leather armor, but only enough to scratch his ribs.

  The screams, the impact of steel, the terrified snorts of horses, and the pounding of hooves swirled around him like tangible thing. Zimmer’s horse skittered sideways, and Enoch pressed in, his face filled with pinpoint concentration for the battle at hand. Zimmer wheeled his mount and used the saddle as a fulcrum for his attack. The two horses were like equine battering rams.

  The line of D’Haran archers arrived behind the cavalry, nocking their arrows and launching a fusillade of projectiles over the heads of the front lines to shower down upon the ranks behind Enoch. Hundreds of enemy soldiers dropped, and the archers let fly as fast as they could nock and draw. D’Haran foot soldiers came behind the archers, hacking at any encroaching enemy warriors to protect the bowmen.

  Oliver and Peretta each carried a large hunting knife, which was easier to wield than a sword. Never straying far from her two friends, Amber did her own fighting. The gifted young novices were not strong enough to unleash sweeping devastation like Nicci or Nathan, but they were clever and effective with their strikes. Together, they used their gift to work small, effective spells. With flickers of fire, they heated the hilts of the enemy swords, which made the yelping soldiers drop them in pain.

  Peretta called out to her friends, “Intense fire is difficult to make, but we can use bright light instead. That’s easy. Blind them!”

  Oliver grinned. “Yes, the flash spell!” He twisted his fingers and muttered the words he needed for focus. A burst of light blossomed directly before the eyes of an attacking soldier like an erupting star. The man slapped a hand to his eyes and stumbled into another soldier. Unable to see, he swung instinctively and stabbed his own comrade.

  Triumphant, Oliver, Peretta, and Amber repeated their flash spell in the faces of other warriors.

  Arabella and Mab, the only two Sisters of the Light still with Zimmer’s troops, were more formidable opponents. They rode on each flank of the main cavalry and hurled buffeting winds strong enough to stagger the enemy ranks.

  “By the Creator, we have our work cut out for us,” Mab said.

  A glowing female form swooped in over the advancing army, the pale shade of Utros’s dead sorceress. Shrieking with mad laughter, Ava’s spirit joined First Commander Enoch. Though intangible, Ava could still use the remnants of her gift to send disruptive waves through the D’Haran soldiers and spook their horses. Ava swooped directly through the mounts, terrifying them, and the panicked horses pawed at the air, wheeling sideways and colliding into one another.

  Ava’s features transformed into the face of a gaunt demon with a wide, fang-filled mouth, her eyes sunken into dark hollows. The D’Haran soldiers slashed the air, their swords cutting harmlessly through her wispy form.

  First
Commander Enoch kicked his horse in the ribs and charged forward. Zimmer brought up his sword to parry the blow, but Enoch struck with all the might of his battle-hardened muscles. Suddenly a bright flash like a solar flare burst in front of Enoch’s face, blinding him. He grabbed at his eyes, too late to shield them from the dazzling burst.

  Oliver, Peretta, and Amber cheered, then turned their unique attack upon other enemy soldiers.

  Zimmer’s horse slammed into his opponent’s, hurling the old veteran from his saddle. Enoch landed and rolled before stumbling back to his feet, unable to see but sweeping his sword from side to side. Knowing that First Commander Enoch was his main foe, Zimmer swung out of his saddle and dropped to the ground. Enoch stabbed at the air as he struggled to see.

  Nearby, Thorn and Lyesse fought with wild abandon, grinning wolfishly with a weapon in each hand. Spatters of blood flecked their skin. The scant black leather garments provided little protection, but neither morazeth needed it. They hacked from victim to victim, moving on to the next target even before the last one fell to the ground.

  “Fourteen!” Thorn cried as she stabbed another man through the ribs.

  “Sixteen for me,” Lyesse said. “You better catch up, sister.”

  “We will take stock when the day is done.”

  A giant-statured warrior loomed in front of Lyesse. Each of his biceps was larger than her head as he lifted a two-handed sword, but Lyesse slashed him across the stomach, then slid her blade through the gap in his thigh armor and into his groin. She dodged out of the way as the giant bleated like a sheep in the slaughter pen and crashed to the ground.

  Ava’s spirit swooped in to terrorize Thorn and Lyesse, but when the intangible spirit tried to pass through their bodies with a disruptive tingle, the protective runes blocked her, and she ricocheted off of them. Flustered, the dead sorceress whirled off to attack someone else.

  As his horse galloped away, Zimmer regained his balance on the ground. For the moment, he would face First Commander Enoch on foot. He shouted, “My name is General Zimmer, and I command the D’Haran army. I want you to know the name of the man who will defeat you.”