Destiny (21 page)

“Hope must never leave a man’s heart, your Majesty. A spark and a breath of air is all that is needed to light the flame of human hope in valiant hearts. I cannot guarantee that we will live, your Majesty, nor even that I will manage to work out how to use the power hidden in those medallions against our ruthless enemies, but I can assure you that hope burns in my heart with a pure flame.”

“That is all your King needs to know. Tomorrow we shall face the enemy. We shall go down to the outer wall of Rilentor and fight there against the invading armies. If we must die, so be it, but we will die fighting to the last man, until the last drop of blood in our bodies is spent.”

“I shall be at your side, your Majesty,” Haradin said, and bowed.

Gerart rose to his feet and turned to the Bearers.

“Can the King of Rogdon count on the support of the Bearers? Will you fight by my side tomorrow?”

A heavy silence filled the Throne Hall.

It was a crucial moment for the history of Rogdon, for the future of the whole continent. Thousands of lives were at stake. All depended on the decision that small group of Chosen would make.

Aliana stepped forward.

“You can count on me and my medallion, my Lord King,” she said with a bow.

Komir felt a pang of jealousy gnawing at his stomach.

Asti came to stand beside Aliana.

“I with Aliana,” she said.

Sonea took a nervous step forward. “If Haradin needs me to use the medallions, I’ll be there to help him in whatever way I can.”

“The Norghanians will pay dearly for their crimes against my people,” Iruki said firmly.” You can count on my medallion, King of the Rogdonians.”

A tense silence filled the Hall.

Komir had not committed himself.

All eyes stared at him.

Komir looked at Gerart, then at Aliana, and finally at Haradin. Hartz’s voice thundered behind him: “Komir, you’re not going to let them do this without you, are you?”

Komir looked at his big friend and smiled.

“Of course I’m not, you can count on me too,”

“Yes, sir, that's the way to talk!” Hartz roared. “Let’s crush a few skulls!” At this, Kayti jabbed him with her elbow to keep him under control.

Gerart smiled broadly.

“Thank you, Bearers, your courage fills my heart with hope. Once the issue is resolved, there is one final ally we must secure. Haradin, please can you admit her?”

“With pleasure, your Majesty,” Haradin said, and left the Hall through a side door.

A few moments later he returned with a woman.

Komir looked at her with interest and recognized her immediately. It was Auburu, the Matriarch of his tribe, the Bikia, of the Norriel.

The Norriel leader came up to King Gerart. When she saw Komir she stopped and greeted him with a sincere smile. She spoke to him in Norriel.

“It gladdens me to find you alive and well, young bear. I see the protection of the three goddesses is with you.”

Komir bowed his head in respect. “Thank you, Auburu. I too am glad to find the Matriarch of my tribe well. I have only good wishes for the Bikia.”

Auburu smiled and nodded. She looked at Komir, then at Hartz,

“Norriel you are and Norriel you shall die. Whenever you wish to return, you shall be welcome; the tribe will receive you and protect you, for you carry the mark of the bear engraved with fire. Never forget it.”

Hartz and Komir bowed their heads and thanked her.

Auburu gave them a last smile, then turned to the King. Using the language of the West so that everybody would understand her, she said:

“I come representing the thirty Norriel tribes. I speak for their leaders.”

Gerart nodded. “I wish you to convey my most sincere gratitude, and that of the Rogdonian people, to the thirty tribes. You saved us from extermination, and this prowess and the debt of gratitude it implies will never be forgotten. You have the eternal gratitude of the King of Rogdon and all his people.”

“I shall convey this to my people,” Auburu said.

“I have called you here because in all probability, the enemy will attack tomorrow and we need your support once more, or else we are doomed. What have the thirty tribes decided in the Council? Will they support us tomorrow in the battlefield or will they go back to the highlands?”

Auburu considered each of them in turn. They waited tensely for her answer, until at last she replied calmly:

“The thirty in Council have discussed this matter. Reaching the right decision has been very hard, but it has finally been achieved.”

“What is the decision of the Norriel people?” Gerart asked. He was unable to conceal how much depended on the reply.

Auburu sighed. “We shall fight today in order not to have to fight tomorrow.”

Gerart’s face lit up. “We shall never be able to repay this debt of gratitude,” he said with overwhelming sincerity.

The Matriarch’s eyes met his for a moment.

“Remember it always, King of the Rogdonians. Remember the day on which the savages of the highlands helped the powerful men of blue and silver, remember the day on which everything was lost and the Norriel did not retreat, but stayed and fought, without fearing defeat, without fearing death.”

Gerart bowed to Auburu. “It shall never be forgotten. On that you have my word as King.”

Auburu turned and with a last glance at Komir and Hartz, left the Hall.

Gerart turned to the others. “The King is thankful for your commitment and sacrifice. You are indeed heroes of Rogdon now. Tomorrow we shall fight together, shoulder to shoulder, and we shall defeat the enemy. Rest now and prepare for the final battle that is to come.”

The Council ended, and Komir almost ran out of the Throne Hall without even looking back, without even glancing at her. But Aliana was determined to put an end to the Norriel’s hurtful indifference and hurried to follow him. She caught up with him in the gardens and seized his arm.

“Komir, I want to talk to you.”

Hartz and Kayti, who were with Komir, made their excuses and went on, leaving them alone in the intimacy created by night and the stars. Komir looked at her carelessly, and to Aliana it was as though he had stabbed her with a dagger whose hilt was of emerald.

“Why are you behaving like this to me, Komir?”

“I don’t know what you mean…”

“Of course you do!”

Komir looked away.

“Why? Tell me!” Aliana burst out in frustration.

Komir was surprised by her outburst. He had never seen her like this before, and lowered his defenses.

“I saw you kissing Gerart,” he muttered.

Aliana sighed. “It wasn’t me that kissed him.”

“I know what I saw.”

“It was him who kissed me.”

Komir seemed to hesitate for a moment. “It might have been that way… but in any case, you didn’t seem displeased. I didn’t notice you stepping back.”

“You misinterpret what you saw.”

“My eyes saw what they saw.”

“Your eyes didn’t see my intention. Nor do they know my heart.”

“You don’t owe me any explanation. He’s the King of Rogdon, handsome, brave and honorable. I understand, he’ll make you Queen and cover you in silks and jewels. I’m nothing more than a Norriel, a wild man from the highlands. All I have is my sword. I can’t compete for your affection against a powerful King.”

“You’re wrong. You’re much more than that. My heart will choose whoever it must, with no regard for rank or social position, because the heart doesn’t care about these things.”

“I know what I feel, and my eyes don’t fool me.”

“I haven’t made my decision, Komir. Don’t jump to the wrong conclusions.”

“Your decision is yours, that’s true. And mine is mine.”

With these words Komir turned away from her. Without a backward glance he walked off into the night.

Aliana was left standing there, confused, and full of fury and passion. She could see three destinies before her, three paths as unique and different as they were appealing to her soul. All three called to her heart to follow them. She could be Queen of Rogdon by the side of the handsome, chivalrous Gerart; she could go with Komir, who filled her with passion; or she could go back to the Order and follow her vocation, which made her so happy, and forget both of them. In that moment she would have given anything to know which to choose, for someone to tell her which path to follow. She looked around for some kind of sign, but once again life was being cruel to her. She would have to make the decision for herself and live with the consequences. She could only hope she would not make the wrong choice…

She glanced up at the moon and questioned her.

“What path should I follow, Goddess of the night?”

The Goddess looked down on her serenely, but said nothing.

Aliana bowed her head.

“The decision is mine, and I’ll have to make it alone …”

Lasgol struggled with the chains which tied him to the wooden post driven into the ground. Around him fifty or so other still-living prisoners were also trying in vain to break free and escape.
Life is full of troubles,
he thought, and smiled at his bad luck. When they had tied him to the post he had given himself up for dead. As a result he had begun to meditate very seriously on the sense of honor and that of duty to one’s country. He had made one last attempt to carry out his duty honorably, unmasking Count Volgren before King Thoran as the traitor he was. But cruel fate had reminded him once more that the greed of soulless men rules not only the kingdom of Norghana, but all over the world.

When the Norriel attack took them by surprise, the Norghanian army had been forced to retreat fast without looking back. Rangulfsen was a prudent and intelligent General and had ordered his forces to regroup to the south in order to minimize casualties and take stock of the situation. So fast had the men of the snow pulled back that wounded and prisoners had been left in the camp, abandoned and forgotten by all, winners as well as losers. On his right he could see a mound of corpses rotting on the desolate battlefield.

Lasgol smiled. The irony of his situation gnawed at his spirit. Joy at the attack and the hope of freedom had given way to despair, since in his present situation, tied to that post, he was going to die. He had tried to break free by using his Gift, but none of his skills would allow him to free himself from those chains. He shook his head in frustration.

A sad way to die,
he thought, and bowed his head, resigned to his fate.

“Problems?” came a voice behind him.

Lasgol turned his head fearfully and received the surprise of his life.

“Yakumo!”

The Assassin eyed him with a smile of amusement, his slanting eyes shining with intensity.

“Help me, please! Before they come back.”

“They won’t, they’re getting ready to destroy the city. They’re already forming lines. They’ll attack at dawn.”

“Help me get free. I know we’ve been enemies in the past, but don’t let me die here, not like this. Don’t leave me here to be food for vermin. I beg you.”

“I’ll set you free, Tracker, but you must promise something in return.”

“If what you’re going to ask me is honorable, you can count on it.”

Yakumo nodded.

“It is indeed honorable.”

“Then you have my word.”

A red flash ran through the Assassin’s body.

“Time to regain your freedom, Tracker.”

With dawn came what all feared. The war-horns rang defiantly to the south and the enemy hosts began their advance toward the city. In the middle came the Invincibles of the Ice in their snow-white attire and winged helmets. On their right they were escorted by the men of the Thunder Army, General Olagson’s men, in close formation. On their left came the men of the Snow Army, led by General Rangulfsen himself. Behind was the Blizzard Army, the mixed forces, General Odir’s men. Covering both flanks and the rearguard were the Nocean legions, forming a protective barrier in the shape of a horseshoe around the Norghanian nucleus. This time they would not be taken by surprise —the Nocean legions would protect their flanks against whatever threats might arise.

They faced the great gate of the city and began to maneuver.

Haradin watched the advance from the half-ruined outer wall of the city. With him were the five Bearers, nervous but brave. The three thousand Rogdonians, bows in hands, flanked them, ready to shoot against the enemy. At their backs, protecting the entrance, the five thousand Norriel waited to enter into action. Behind them loomed the dying city, much of which had been razed to the ground, and those few quarters which had survived the siege weapons and fires now sheltered thousands of frightened innocents. Most of the fires had finally been put out, and the smell of smoke and death pervaded the city so that the air was almost unbreathable.

“The enemy is coming!” cried Haradin so that all could hear him. “He seeks our death, but we shall not yield! He seeks our blood, but we shall not fear! Greed and savagery guide them, but we will stop them! We will fight against the enemy hosts, for we must defend the innocents behind us! Remember, all of you: if we fall, they fall; men, women and children will be put to the sword. There will be nothing left, such is the evil that rules the enemy armies. We shall defend this last redoubt, and however many come to take it, they will be destroyed. They come for our lives, but we shall not give up! This dawn, for this glorious land, we shall shed our enemy’s blood! We will not yield to fear but remain firm! We shall fight! We shall fight! We shall fight!”

“We shall fight!” roared the eight thousand throats in unison.

Turning to the five Bearers, he said:

“We must be brave, look the enemy in the eyes and end their lives. There’s no room for doubt today, no room for pity. Otherwise we shall all die. I can assure you that both Norghanians and Noceans have been ordered to leave no one alive, and for that reason they must be exterminated.”

The five Bearers met Haradin’s gaze and nodded.

Haradin assessed them. Of Komir and Iruki he had no doubt. They were fighters, with warrior spirits. Even Aliana the Healer, under the pressure of what she had been through, had turned into a strong fighting spirit. She would fight without a second thought. But the Librarian and the Usik… that was different. He was hoping they would act bravely, but he could not predict it. The blood, the cries of pain and the horror of battle might unsettle the determination of even the most hardened soldier. Would the two young Bearers stand up to it? He would soon find out.

The enemy troops finished taking up their positions before the wall, facing the great gate where Haradin and the five Bearers waited. They were about three hundred paces away. The moment had come. The morning was cold, much colder than the days before, and for some reason the temperature seemed to be falling. Haradin eyed the morning mist which covered the forests to the northeast and south extending behind the enemy lines. Yet the area in front of the wall was free of it. This seemed suspicious. Was Zecly planning something? Or could it be some maneuver of the Norghanian Ice Mage? He did not know, but he did not like it one bit. Something in that mist and the dry cold which bit his flesh had an arcane origin, not a natural one.

“Do you feel this cold?” the Mage asked.

Komir was rubbing his arms. “Yes, it’s getting colder by the moment.”

“It’s not normal for it to be so cold,” Aliana said.

“Norghanian Ice Magic?” Sonea wondered.

“It might be, yes. Conjure your protective spheres,” Haradin said. “I don’t like this at all, and I don’t want to fall into a trap. You must seek the source of power inside you, the pool of energy which holds your Gift. Concentrate, search for it, embrace it, for you are the Chosen, blessed with the Gift of Magic. It’s a talent you must embrace and welcome, make it your own, care for it, for it’s both wonderful and unique. Search for it now…”

The five concentrated, closing their eyes and following Haradin’s instructions.

“When you find that inner energy, you must focus on the Ilenian medallion, to protect yourselves against the enemy’s magic. Talk to it, not with words but with your mind. You must get it to interact with you. You must ask it to conjure the sphere for you, as your magical knowledge is insufficient for that. Long study and training are needed for this kind of spell, and time is what we don’t have. But the medallion can do it for you, for its power is great and it will respond to its Bearer’s requests. Try it, try it with conviction until you can do it.”

Komir, Aliana and Iruki had no trouble in raising their spheres, which after a moment shielded them completely, but Asti and Sonea could not manage it.

“Don’t worry, keep trying. It’s a question of conviction and concentration. You’ll get it, keep trying,” the Mage encouraged them.

After a few long moments Sonea managed to raise her sphere. She cried out ecstatic.

“Come on, Asti, you can do it,” said Aliana to the Usik.

“No can,” she said with a frown of pure frustration.

Aliana came to her side and held both her hands.

“We’ll do it together,” she said. Closing her eyes, she began to help her. A few moments later Asti managed to conjure the sphere.

“Thank you,” she said to Aliana with a wide smile.

“Get ready for the fight,” Haradin warned, seeing the enemy hosts advancing.

The archers nocked their arrows and drew their strings back to their cheeks. They aimed at the enemy. They were ready to let fly.

Something strange caught the Mage’s eye. That fog… now it seemed to be almost solid, as if a cloud had fallen to the earth. But there was something else. The Mage half-closed his eyes and stared until he made out something under the fog, something black…

“Now… what can that be…?” he muttered.

Suddenly a deafening roll of drums broke the tense silence. The din was so impressive that Haradin thought it would reach as far as the east coast at the other end of Tremia. The drums fell suddenly silent, and the fog began to fade until it disappeared before their eyes.

What he saw now left Haradin speechless.

Thousands of men were revealed: men in black laminated armor, bearing red standards.

“By the ancient gods of Tremia!” Haradin exclaimed, completely taken aback.

A sea of soldiers in black, spotted with the red of foreign banners, stretched as far as the eye could see. There were more than seventy thousand men there, and they were neither Norghanian nor Nocean.

“The abysmal evil, the endless suffering, has come at last,” Komir said as he watched the colossal army from beyond the seas. “My destiny is drawing near.”

Looking at Komir, Haradin began to understand what the young Norriel was referring to.

The Norghanian-Nocean army came to a halt upon hearing the drums, and realized the danger at their back.

The drums thundered again and the black swarm from beyond the seas launched itself against the troops on the plain, attacking rearguard and flanks without warning. The impact on the Nocean legions was shattering and bloody. The hardened desert warriors stood up to the troops of slant-eyed men. The fierce battle which ensued took on epic proportions in a matter of moments. The Noceans held the flanks, but the rearguard was cut down in the blink of an eye under the horde’s overwhelming superiority in numbers. Nothing could prevent the red standards making their way through from behind.

While the Noceans were attempting to stand their ground, the Norghanians maneuvered to face the invading army.

“Kill them all!” shouted General Odir in the midst of the fray. As commander of the mixed army he was trying desperately to stop the enemy advance. He was covering the Norghanian rearguard, and the enemy was cutting them in pieces.

“Attack! Kill! Kill them all!” he shouted, half-crazed by now, hacking away like a man possessed. His men meanwhile were doing their best to break the enemy onslaught, but for each slant-eyed soldier they killed another five took his place.

“Odir, form a line to keep them at bay!” General Rangulfsen yelled over the deafening battle cries and the din of the fighting. He was trying to lead the defense amid the chaos.

But Odir was not listening, he was fighting frantically together with his men. Soldiers fell by the thousands, never to rise again. The boots of desperate soldiers stepped on the innards of those who had fallen and the savage mutilations increased the horror of this most brutal of combats.

A spear with a red banner struck Odir in the stomach.

“Bastards! I’ll kill you all!” he yelled, and went on delivering stroke after savage stroke. Three enemy swords cut him open. The General fell in the midst of a sea of blood and with him, one by one, all his men.

Rangulfsen shook his head. “Bloody imbecile!” The rearguard had fallen and they were exposed to the enemy. Either they closed the gap or they would be lost. “Invincibles of the Ice, close the rearguard!” he ordered. The elite of the Norghanian troops advanced in perfect formation and began to wreak violence on the enemy soldiers.
We still have a chance,
he thought.

Towards the south, on the left flank, the Nocean legions were barely able to resist the assault of the black army. Sumal watched the fighting alongside his lord Zecly a short distance from the fierce battle.

“They’re decimating us!” cried Mulko, Regent of the North of the Nocean Empire, behind them. “My legions are being annihilated! This is an unthinkable catastrophe!”

“There are too many of them, my lord, we won’t be able to hold,” said Ukbi, his Military Counselor.

“I don’t understand… we were on the point of taking Rilentor, conquering all Rogdon… What’s happened? Where did this black army come from? Who are they? I don’t understand… It’s impossible! Hell and damnation!”

“My lord, we must get away,” Ukbi insisted. There was a definite note of urgency in his voice.