Miceral waited for someone in command to divert forces, but nothing happened. Meglar’s senior wizards were locked in a fierce battle with Zenora and Heminaltose. Both sides had casualties among their weaker members, but Meglar’s losses were much higher. Haven’s wizards held their ground while the other armies thinned Meglar’s magical ranks. That appeared to be on track.
Horns pealed across the field and Wilhelm and Marisa’s forces joined the fight. Darius and his wizards continued the pattern of taking out the handlers and other wizards before the army charged.
A rumble rose above the din of battle and announced the arrival of Tilerstig’s army. The horned bulls separated into two formations and began their charge. They plunged into the Chamdon ranks as the foot soldiers rushed to link up with Wilhelm’s left flank.
From his vantage point, Miceral watched their allies cut Meglar’s army into isolated patches. They were on course to meet in the center and attack from the rear. If Haven’s wizards could hold on, this fight would turn into a rout.
A wizard behind Ulgar surveyed the battle behind them. He wore a look of fear when he moved closer to his commander. Leaning in, he appeared to say something. Ulgar scowled and turned around.
Zenora hammered Ulgar’s shields, and he yelled at someone. The wizard who alerted him to the trap ran off. He motioned to one of the remaining groups of wizards to follow him.
“Can Queen Pertrice and Tharles break off to help Zenora and Heminaltose?” he asked.
“Yes, but we’ll need to move our reserves to take their place first.” Klissmor ran north. “And we need to redeploy Leothan’s company”
Peter watched his father and Lady Marisa from the edge of the hill as they spoke to the other princes. Everyone appeared anxious. The fighting had started, and it was too soon to tell how it would end.
The grand battle plan called for Haven and Trellham’s armies to bear the brunt of the attack. The other forces were to charge into the Chamdon before their handlers could turn them. It seemed impossible, but the center defenses held. The swirling mass of Chamdon pressed forward, but their line didn’t falter. Massive explosions created gaps in the swarm, but they were quickly filled. The ebb and flow showed no sign of stopping.
The Arlefors and Bendari armies appeared out of nowhere and charged toward their enemy. Wilhelm and Marisa had held the coalition army of the west hidden and in check until this moment. A horn sounded, and the army Peter and Wallace helped build surged into the fight. Darius and the other wizards targeted the handlers. They cut down dozens of the strongest mages before the others knew they were under attack. The surviving wizards mistakenly looked to Haven as the source of the attacks. That left them vulnerable to the real danger.
Peter knew the moment their army became visible. The charging soldiers were a hundred feet from the enemy before the remaining wizards reacted. Random Chamdon companies turned to obey new commands. These were trampled by other leaderless groups behind them. The organized chaos of a Chamdon army disintegrated into complete disarray. Given conflicting targets, the mindless brutes ran into each other.
The allied soldiers stormed into the confused flank of Meglar’s army with great success. By turning their Chamdon clusters, the handlers still alive made themselves targets. They were quickly eliminated under a withering barrage of wizard’s fire.
Atop a hillock, Peter saw the Bendari and Arlefor armies create the same bedlam on the other two flanks. Every handler killed increased the number of Chamdon who couldn’t react to new information.
From the east, a chorus of horns filled the air. A low rumble that grew louder by the second replaced the musical announcement. Peter held his breath until his lungs burned. He exhaled and waited. The tree line was a quarter mile back, but the reverberation of hooves was so loud it felt much closer.
The first horned bull thundered into view followed by hundreds more. As they rode toward the Chamdon, the riders separated into formations. Wizard’s fire erupted from the columns. Unlike the alliance wizards, these targeted handlers and Chamdon.
The mounts stretched into two wide triangles. The horned animals charged toward the Chamdon, most of whom still focused at Trellham. Behind this cavalry, tens of thousands of soldiers marched toward the fight.
Peter turned to Wallace to say something but paused when he saw Saulmon and his retinue arrive. He hadn’t realized Dagur’s prince had been absent. Saulmon sported a large gaudy ring on his right ring finger that drew Peter’s attention. It seemed odd to wear something that large on his sword hand on the day of a battle. And it was new. Peter was sure Saulmon hadn’t worn it before.
Saulmon approached Wilhelm and Marisa, who were talking about where to send the reserves. “Things are going well.”
Wilhelm glanced over, looking annoyed. “It’s too early to tell, but thus far they are going as we hoped.”
He turned back to Marisa and the others to resume their discussion. Saulmon frowned and twisted the large ring on his finger. He didn’t move to join the discussion but reviewed the battlefield.
Peter looked where Saulmon stared. The Dagur legions had moved from their place with the reserves and inched closer to the front lines. Peter hadn’t heard his father give the order to move those troops.
He saw something move at the top of his peripheral vision. Takala and his company of peregrines supported the western army. They circled overhead, waiting to assist.
“Takala?”
“Yes, Peter?” A peregrine detached itself from the group and flew a bit lower.
“Did someone order the Dagur reserves into battle?”
“Only your father and Lady Marisa can move individual companies,” Takala said. “Why does this trouble you?”
“I’m certain my father didn’t give that command, and Saulmon is acting strange.”
Takala didn’t respond immediately. He altered course and flew west to make a pass over the Dagur troops. After he cleared the alliance soldiers, he turned north. Peter kept the appearance he was watching the battlefield but snuck glances at Saulmon.
“Darius said to tell the wizard constables to protect Wilhelm.” Takala turned and pumped furiously toward the command post.
Wilhelm, Marisa, and Cendreth stiffened and jerked their heads up as they scanned the sky. The others appeared startled and looked up as well. Wilhelm stared in Takala’s direction for another second and then turned his gaze on Saulmon.
“Constables!” Peter yelled to the wizards standing a few paces away. “Guard the prince!”
Peter drew his sword and felt Wallace do the same. They ran toward his father as Saulmon fumbled with his ring. When his hand stopped moving, he smiled.
An arrow buzzed Peter and he heard a groan behind him. The wizard collapsed with a bolt through his left eye. The other two fell seconds later. When he traced the flight of the arrows back, three of Saulmon’s guards held crossbows. They fumbled to reload them. The one closest to Peter froze and the string snapped back. He opened his mouth as if to scream. The rest of the Dagur contingent did the same.
“Kill them!” Saulmon shouted.
Peter spun back toward his father. Saulmon grinned wildly with his sword in the air. The smile faded and he stiffened as if he’d been slapped. His body convulsed for a second and then expanded. Any semblance of intelligence was gone in a flash and he growled angrily.
A grunt from behind caused Peter to turn. The Chamdon that had once been Saulmon’s cortege rushed toward the command staff.
“Get to your father!” Wallace shouted and nudged him in Wilhelm’s direction.
Wilhelm, Marisa, and Cendreth spread out and tried to draw Saulmon’s attention. He ignored them and remained focused on the other princes. The creature that had been Saulmon rushed toward the other princes and hacked wildly.
Prince Uthus was the closest. His attempt to strike the beast went wide and he stumbled. His lack of skill saved his life as the flat of Saulmon’s blade struck him instead of the edge. He stumbled and fell over
, dazed but otherwise unhurt.
A sideswipe cut deep into Prince Orinth’s head as he tried to draw his sword. He swayed for a moment and then toppled over face-first into the dirt.
Prince Aldor froze when Orinth’s blood sprayed his face. He sank to his knees and dropped his sword. He would have died, except Prince Yudres distracted the creature by striking it from the side. The Chamdon turned and swung, but Yudres danced backward. He raised his shield to stop the next attack, and it crumpled under the blow.
Yudres screamed as blood flowed from his shattered arm. The next blow would have killed him, but Prince Erick pulled him away. Saulmon’s sword landed in the dirt, and Erick used the time it bought him to drag Yudres from the fight.
“By the Six!” Erick shouted. He was staring at the battlefield. “Dagur’s army has been turned into Chamdon! They’re attacking our army from the rear!”
“Erick! Pay attention to this fight!” Wilhelm said. He and Cendreth poked at the Chamdon from behind and succeeded in drawing its attention. They retreated, drawing the creature from their injured friend. Marisa joined them, and they took turns shouting to confuse Saulmon.
“Stay back, Peter!” Wilhelm yelled.
The others continued to call to the Chamdon until he finally roared and charged Marisa. Saulmon swept his blade across his body, and she ducked under the blow. Cendreth and Wilhelm shouted as they rushed in from behind. The Chamdon ignored them and brought his blade back, aiming lower this time.
Marisa raised her sword to parry the blow. The strength of the swing brushed aside her blade and continued toward her body. The edge cut deep into her side before Saulmon pulled it out.
Peter bent, grabbed a handful of dust, and closed on the creature. He threw the dirt in Saulmon’s face and ducked under a wild swing. Stabbing upward, his blade slid off Saulmon’s armor when the creature turned.
Marisa’s body hit the ground beside him. She lay on her back, her torso nearly split in two. Peter pushed down the urge to vomit and looked as the creature lashed out with his leg. The leather of Saulmon’s boots had split around the distended foot. He struck Peter in the chest, causing him to drop his sword and backpedal several steps.
Peter regained his balance and grabbed his sword from the dirt. Cendreth and his father circled Saulmon, drawing him away from Peter. They shouted and badgered the mindless creature, looking for an opening.
“Peter!” Wilhelm yelled. “Guard our rear!”
He looked to his left. Wallace and the others struggled to keep the other Chamdon away. Two of the eight beasts were down, but they’d lost four human guards already. Dozens of alliance guards rushed toward the fight, but they weren’t close enough to immediately help.
Peter edged closer to his father and positioned himself to guard their rear. He also put himself close enough to strike Saulmon if he had the chance. Wilhelm faked a lunge, and Saulmon swung at him. Cendreth used the opening to drive his sword into the space under the creature’s now ill-fitting armor. Saulmon lurched forward, pulling the weapon from Cendreth’s hand. He ignored the wound and pressed after Wilhelm.
Peter abandoned his defensive post and ran to help his father. The creature whirled and swung. Wilhelm parried the blow, but both swords shattered. Wilhelm staggered back and dropped the hilt of his broken blade.
With a stump of a sword, the creature followed Wilhelm as Peter ran to help. Cendreth had grabbed Marisa’s sword and ran at them as well. Wilhelm looked at Peter and shook his head. He drew a knife and backed away, drawing the fight away from his son.
Peter shouted as loud as he could, but Saulmon ignored him. The creature moved fast enough that Peter couldn’t reach them before he closed on Wilhelm. Cendreth arrived first and hacked at the wounded beast. Saulmon flung his arm back and sent Cendreth flying. The delay was enough for Peter to join the fight. He swung with all his strength and drove the edge of his blade into the exposed neck.
Saulmon grunted and sank to his knees. Just beyond the dying creature, Wilhelm staggered back and collapsed. The hilt of Saulmon’s shattered sword protruded from his chest. He dropped the knife before he hit the ground.
Peter screamed and raced to his father, but he knew it was too late. Wilhelm’s lifeless eyes were open wide. He stared at the sky, and his chest was still. Grief nearly overcame him, but Cendreth shouted something. Peter didn’t make out the words, but he heard the warning in his friend’s tone.
He looked up, and a Chamdon ran up the hill at him. Beyond it, Wallace and a Ze’arderian guard ran to catch it, but they were too far back. Peter grabbed his sword, angry enough at the world to not care if he died so long as he killed the creature.
A whoosh of air overhead staggered Peter. Takala soared past him with his talons exposed. The Chamdon looked up as the giant raptor closed on it. Takala lunged and beat his wings faster.
The Chamdon rose off the ground, but Takala wobbled and the pace of his wings sputtered. His claws opened, and the creature fell without his weapon. A moment later Takala fell from the air and hit the ground with a thud. The tip of a bloody sword poked through his back.
A shriek filled the air, and Peter looked up to see a swarm of peregrines heading toward them. To the east a white cloud burst, sending its mist in all directions.
Wallace reached him, and Peter shook his head. “He’s gone. Marisa too.”
The words sounded so clinical. Unlike Nordric’s death, the shock of what happened to his father numbed him.
“Peter,” Wallace exhaled, fighting to keep the tears out of his eyes. Peter sank to his knees next to his father. It had taken less than a minute. No goodbye, no last words, just gone. He dropped his sword and closed his father’s eyelids. He struggled to swallow and when he did, a tear hit his father’s armor. A torrent followed the first. He grabbed Wilhelm’s hand and squeezed.
He felt another presence come near, and he looked up to scream at whoever dared disturb him. Darius met Peter’s gaze and couldn’t hold back his grief. He knelt and took Wilhelm’s other hand in his.
Farrell used his breathing techniques to keep calm. He hovered between the twin Sources and looked down the gently sloping ground toward the gap in the mountains. Once the first Chamdon unit cleared the opening, tens of thousands followed. They poured through the slit and flooded the plains with their chaotic presence. Unfocused, the mindless army spread out like spilled ale on a table.
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 fast, 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. Why did the handlers waste energy keeping the Chamdon 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. 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 Meglar.
He looked bigger than Farrell 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.
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.
Champion of the Gods Box Set Page 219