Dariak’s brow furrowed. “The lightning jade went haywire and brought down the Prisoner’s Tower.”
“Indeed. It would not be much of a stretch to think that one may have caused the other.”
A strange sensation fluttered in Dariak’s chest. “You’re implying that all those people died in Pindington because I used the jades to heal Kitalla, which set off a… chain reaction in the lightning jade? You’re saying it’s my fault?”
“Not yours, per se. The jades themselves upset the balance. Think of your father.”
“Then when I unite them, I may not just kill myself in the process. Many others could die along with me.”
Astrith offered a slight shrug. “Maybe not at once, but over the years to come, I would suspect some parts of life would be out of balance once again, causing hardships. Now then, warrior, show me to your friend.” Gabrion led the old man out, leaving Dariak and Randler alone.
The mage grabbed his head and tugged in frustration. “What am I to do?”
“I don’t know, Dariak,” Randler shook his head. “I just don’t know.”
Chapter 44
Verna’s Reprieve
The night had a bitter chill, the only reminder that it was winter here. Verna had watched as Illuria used her magic to transport her lover and Ruhk away from the battle site by making the earth shift and roll. It wasn’t the smoothest ride, but the injured men were secreted away. Verna vowed to find Ruhk again and to apologize for sending him away like this, but she couldn’t let him die. She knew he had a family somewhere in Hathreneir, but that didn’t affect her feelings for him.
Once they were gone, she was essentially alone with the two ursalors that were banging against each other, trying to break apart the harness that bound them to the catapult. The enormous bear-like beasts roared with fury and Verna knew she had to subdue them somehow. If they escaped, they could rampage through the battlefield, and though that might put an end to the fighting, many people would likely die. If they fled and pursued Illuria and killed Ruhk in the process, Verna didn’t know how she would live with herself.
She hadn’t rested for more than a few minutes before making her attempt against the ursalors. Three thick chains remained for them to break through before they were free, and their thrashing made it obvious that time was running out. Verna scoured the area quickly, claiming four swords in addition to her own, strapping them to her back with strips of tunic she ripped from a fallen soldier.
Trekking closer to the enraged monsters, Verna kept hopping away in fear, for the bodies were easily fifteen feet long and six feet wide. If they could be tamed, a whole family could travel on one’s back and the powerful legs wouldn’t even register the added weight.
“For Ruhk,” she muttered to herself, running ahead and trying to keep from screaming. With a mighty leap, she grabbed onto one back leg, her fingers ripping at the ursalor’s fur. The beast let out an annoyed shout and briefly turned its head toward her, but the collar around its neck tugged on the chain and prevented it from reaching her.
Grateful for her luck, Verna pulled one hand and foot up at a time, trying not to rip the fur out of the beast’s hide. Her goal was to gain purchase on its back and then use the sword to pierce its skull or spine. Valid plan, she mocked herself, except that the creature started stomping its feet.
Verna clutched harder, trying to remain attached to the hide, but the violent shaking was too much and she hit the ground hard, rolling away quickly as the heavy foot continued to stomp. The metal chains rattled and she wasn’t sure if she heard it moaning or if it was her imagination.
Dusting herself off, Verna watched again for the ursalor to calm down while its partner took turns rampaging. She wondered how the handlers had even kept them in check at all, and she figured they must have been mages with providence over beasts. No one else could possibly tame these things.
Making a second attempt, Verna scrambled up the hind leg as quickly as the thrashing would allow. She pulled out a few unfortunate clumps of hair and lost her grip, plummeting back to the ground and angering the ursalor even further. Frustrated and aching, she looked around for something she could use for leverage.
The ursalor handlers apparently employed whips to help control the beasts, and when they had fled they left the whips behind. She did her best to tie the four of them end to end, making a rope she could toss over one of the creatures. She knew just from looking at it that it wasn’t nearly long enough.
She then saw a few daggers on the ground. She hated to do it, but at the same time, she was trying to kill them, so she tied a dagger to one end of the whip-rope and headed back to the beasts again.
She leaped and climbed as high as she could, and when she felt her grip failing her, Verna stabbed the dagger into the ursalor’s flank, the whip hanging free. The beast howled in pain and it rose up on its hind legs, dumping Verna once again to the ground. Stomping around, the ursalor crashed into its companion, which angrily retaliated and the two started fighting in earnest.
The chains of the catapult shook terribly and threatened to break at any moment, but worse than that, the undulations were dragging the catapult closer and closer. Verna stood up, inching away from the ursalors, and was almost clocked in the head by the massive weapon they were dragging. The beasts wrangled for a few minutes before deciding they couldn’t kill each other and returning to their attempts to break free, presumably so they could turn back on each other for the kill.
Verna grumbled, wondering if she should climb on top of the catapult and try to leap over onto the ursalor’s back from there, but as she watched, the catapult was wrenched erratically, and unlike the furry handholds of the ursalors, there was nothing for her to hold onto upon the catapult.
She looked at the dagger with the whips flailing about. She had stabbed it in deeply, for it remained in the beast’s haunch. She considered a few other options, then decided that the whip was the best bet. She hurried forward one more time and climbed the tied whips hand over hand, causing the dagger to dig further into the creature.
This time, Verna kept climbing as the ursalor rampaged in pain. She moved little by little, hugging the warm body with all her might. Yet, before she moved too far away, she grabbed the dagger and yanked it from the ursalor’s flank, causing another spasm. She clung to the beast, ripping out tufts of fur here and there and moving her hands and feet to other areas, keeping a grip.
Eventually the ursalor calmed down and the other beast began tugging on the chains. Verna crested the backside of her beast as a sickening crack sounded and one of the chains snapped apart. Immediately, her ursalor rose up on its feet and yowled with a throaty roar, its whole body shaking in the process. She felt her grip slipping away and so she jabbed the dagger into its lower back, then grabbed the whips for support.
The thrashing was worse this time, for the broken chain allowed more room for movement. Verna lost her grip on the ursalor and swung wildly from the whips, slamming into the monster’s side with a hefty thud. She merely held on tightly as the creature jounced and, when she could, she scaled up to the top.
Breathing heavily, Verna lay flat across the beast’s back, digging her knees and arms in for support. The two creatures continued heaving around, with the catapult slowly following behind them. After catching her breath, which wasn’t easy because the ursalors also smelled terribly, Verna skulked forward, trying to get in the vicinity of its head.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t accounted for the motion of the ursalor’s shoulder blades and as the creature rose up on its feet again, its arms batting wildly at the two remaining chains, she started to lose her grip again. She didn’t want to fall from ten feet up, so Verna squeezed with one hand, then reached over her shoulder with the other, removing one of the five swords. Holding it awkwardly as the beast dropped back down, she plunged the blade into its flesh.
Blood splattered from the wound and the ursalor’s cry was even worse than before. At first, the beast lashed out at the othe
r ursalor, then it threw itself to the ground, rolling onto its back to kill whatever was clinging there. Verna barely leaped away in time. She rolled repeatedly in the dirt and then shook off her pain as she heard another massive crack. Only one chain to go.
Now both beasts were screaming and jumping wildly and the catapult was yanked along, crashing into one then the other. This angered them and they raged all the harder. Verna couldn’t believe the amount of power they had, and they were only now truly showing their strength. The final chain snapped and the two ursalors turned their attacks on the catapult that had been battering them. The massive weapon, able to launch huge boulders, was dismantled in minutes, with huge chunks of fortified wood scattered left and right like she might toss a twig.
The smell of blood from the battle made them wrinkle their noses, and she knew what would come next. She had to prevent it. The dagger with the attached whips was still lodged in the one ursalor’s flank, so she hurried and scampered up. The creature howled, feeling her presence now, and it turned its head to try to snap at her.
Verna took one of her other swords and jabbed it hard into the ursalor’s spine. As expected, it rose up on its feet and then flipped onto its back, trying to kill her. But it didn’t succeed because the other ursalor misunderstood the challenge and it attacked in full.
Powerful claws raked viciously as the two beasts rose up on their hind legs and wrangled. Verna was too high to jump away safely, so she kept shifting her grip, keeping as firm a hold as possible, alternating as needed between the two swords and the dagger she had implanted in its hide.
The ursalor strikes were devastating, and only another ursalor could withstand them. Verna’s beast slashed at the other’s face, ripping out an eye and causing a retaliatory strike that sent Verna flying, despite all of her attempts to hold on. She felt a deep snap as she landed and she knew some of her bones had broken.
The two beasts battled it out for some time until one released a low, braying howl, after which it turned and scampered away, clearly defeated. The other ursalor, still sporting the swords and dagger, stayed behind, rising up on its feet and declaring in no uncertain terms that it was furious and everyone was going to die.
Verna couldn’t use her left leg or arm. She also realized some of her ribs had cracked as well. The ursalor heard her groaning, or perhaps it just smelled her, as she was covered in its odious blood. With another roar of challenge, the ursalor stomped, edging closer to her, baring its many rows of teeth. Verna swallowed hard, pulling another sword from her back and holding it before her with her right hand. If it was going eat her, she was at least determined to cause some damage on the way down.
The ground shook with each step the beast took and it reared one last time.
Verna forced her eyes open as all fifteen feet of ursalor shook in the air, ready to pounce. She rolled up onto her good leg, then managed to rise. The beast charged. Verna threw herself to the side, barely escaping the stampede. The ursalor came to a halt and turned slowly around. In agony, Verna pushed herself up and the beast approached again, this time bringing its head down to roar in her face. Verna threw the sword and nicked the corner of its eye, causing it to howl in rage.
She didn’t know what propelled her, nor how she was able to overcome her pain to do so, but Verna hobbled quickly over to the ursalor and grabbed the hanging whips that were still dangling from its flank. With her one good hand and leg, she pushed and shoved and earned her way back up on top. The ursalor dropped to its four paws and looked around for her, but couldn’t understand where she had gone.
Verna tucked the end of the bottom whip between her teeth, hoping she could clench her jaw tightly enough so as not to scream as she dragged herself across the monster’s back. She had two swords left at her disposal and she was determined to use them. She winced as she climbed, her whole left side arguing with every motion. She grabbed onto one of the two swords she had already planted in the beast’s hide and it was then the ursalor knew where she was.
First, it turned its head around to try to bite her and, remembering its next move would be to flip onto its back, Verna struck preemptively, driving one more sword into its spine. The ursalor cried out and as it thrashed around, Verna knew she was finished. She didn’t have the strength to hold on. As the ursalor rose up on its legs, Verna screamed, feeling her body plummet downward. With her mouth open, the whip was released and fell with her, and though she scrambled for a handhold among the beast’s fur, she failed. But the whip got tangled around her arm in the process, snapping tightly, and effectively securing her to the beast.
Verna’s broken body smacked against the side of the animal, the tug of which added to the creature’s pain. She had overwhelmed it, though, much as the beast had injured its companion, and with a deep keening wail, the ursalor lumbered off, away from the battlefield.
With Verna still hanging off its side.
She was in such agony, she couldn’t even feel any more. She would have passed out, but the constant jogging of the monster kept her from unconsciousness. Her mind flared with harrowed pleas for it to end. No more thrashing. No more of this unfathomable agony.
The sky darkened as the beast trounced onward, but then it brightened again, and Verna knew she was dying. Red, then blue, then white flashes erupted all around. She didn’t understand it and she didn’t care to even try. Some eternity passed by for her and she felt the whole world fall away, until her body smacked hard once more as it impacted the ground.
She heard words she didn’t understand and light flickered wildly everywhere. Nothing made sense to her. Why couldn’t she just die already and stop suffering so?
“It’s going to be a long road, but you’ll recover,” someone said.
Verna shook her head. “Don’t lie.”
Laughter tinkled in her ears. “After all that, she still has life in her yet. Urrith, get her something to eat. Soup, maybe. Or just water.”
“Already on it, Sharice.”
Verna tried to open her eyes. “What…?”
“There now,” Sharice crooned softly. “The Kallisorian Mage Underground is here, at your service.”
“I don’t—”
“Shush, now, and try to sleep. Your fight is done. But the rest of us have a war to stop.”
Chapter 45
The Red Jade
The morning sky was dark and ominous. Thick clouds had rolled in through the night, effectively blotting out the sun and any sense of hope. Dariak gazed up at the darkness, his body exhausted and his mind weary. The night had passed too quickly and he hadn’t felt any inspiration regarding the jades.
Randler stood quietly beside him, wincing occasionally as spasms shook his legs. They hadn’t spoken in a few hours, and they were both afraid to break the silence, for they feared the thoughts passing through the other’s mind.
The encampment stirred slowly and Dariak tensed in response. There hadn’t been any signs of subterfuge overnight; no rogues pouring poison into their food or anything. It was, perhaps, the one detail that made this battle feel different for Dariak, signaling that it wasn’t just a recreation of the War of the Colossus.
“I wonder what they’ll call it?” he asked aloud, his voice breaking. Randler looked at him quizzically. “When the fight is over and they record it.”
“You won’t have to wonder,” the bard solaced. “You’ll be around for it.”
Dariak gestured to the horizon. “They’re awakening. The battle will recommence soon. Gather the others.”
Gabrion arrived with Kitalla, whose body had been greatly healed by Astrith and his followers. She was sore and stiff, but ready for the day. Gabrion had taken up a sword this morning, determined not to fail Kitalla on the field.
“Just the four of us?” Dariak asked.
“Ruhk and Verna never returned,” Randler answered.
“We’ve got four mages and a hundred or so men ready for the day,” Gabrion added. “We lost some to injury overnight and others lost the wi
ll to battle after Prethos was slain.”
“And they still have about a thousand,” Kitalla remarked. “Plus their king.”
“Astrith is around, but he refused to commit to any command.”
“Don’t count on them, for Astrith has something else in mind, I believe. Perhaps he just wants to bear witness here. But anyway,” Dariak sighed. “Randler?”
The bard nodded and raised his voice before the final battle.
Days long ahead when this tale spreads, we see the light yet to come.
We will stand strong, for we belong in this land from start to the end.
Their forces are large yet we are brave, and we shall rise up to win.
Swords held high, we will defend until the end.
Spells to bind, for us to heal and then to mend.
Joined in kind, the future is in our hands.
War will die, may the Red Jade free our lands.
“The Forgotten Tribe,” Kitalla muttered, touching her hand to her belly.
“They come,” Gabrion announced needlessly, seeing motion up ahead. “Dariak?”
But the mage shook his head, fear creeping up his spine, so Gabrion turned around and walked toward their forces, raising his voice as loud as he could.
“We fight, this day, in defense of honor. We seek a means of ending the turmoil forced upon our lands by the traditional blindness of the kings. Though Prethos has fallen, his eyes had opened at last and he urged us to bring about a new world where war is not a constant. He joined our cause of freeing the people of this land from giving their children to battle, only to lose them before too long. We rise up today and defend the belief that a better world is possible, that we can, if we work together, bring that new lifestyle forward. Today we honor each other and we respect all life. Raise your swords in defense today and use those blades to block your foes. They will see the truth of our actions and a new way will come to pass. For honor!” The troops all cheered in response, raising their weapons in the heavy air.
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