Authors: Greg Curtis
“Guards!” He screamed at the soldiers by the door to the throne room and watched as they snapped to attention. At least someone was doing as he demanded he thought.
“Cut these miserable creature's tongues out of their mouths!”
Immediately he gave the order half a dozen soldiers started marching into the throne room, drawing their knives, while the war masters panicked. Some of them tried to say something. To beg him for mercy. But after the way that they had repeatedly failed him he had no mercy for them. Some tried to run. A couple threw themselves at the foot of his throne. One drew a weapon. A knife he had concealed somewhere among his clothes. None of those things would help them.
“You will stand there and let them cut your tongues out.”
Terellion used his power on them and then watched as the war masters stood there, frozen to the ground. Helpless. By the gods it was good to finally be able to show off his magic. To use it in front of others. To not have to care what anyone might think. He should have done this long ago.
And it was good to watch as the soldiers grabbed the war masters one by one and used their knives as he commanded. To watch the most annoying creatures in existence scream and cry helplessly as they learnt of his wrath. It was even good to see the blood flowing, pouring on to the floor as the grizzly pieces of flesh were cut out and then tossed away. The servants could clean the throne room later.
Finally, he thought, something good had come of the day.
Chapter Fifty Seven
The garden was a nice place to spend a sunny afternoon Nyma thought. Even in winter. And there were some warm, sunny days in Inel Ison even in winter. It was not such a cold land as the Rainbow Mountains. But she would still rather have been there. As she sat in the sun sipping at her tea and relaxing in the comfortable chairs her father had carved long ago, she would much rather have been there. Sitting on Harl's crude wooden bench that was really just a fallen log he'd dragged out of the woods. Drinking his tea which was always too strong and never had any honey in it. Sleeping in his bed which was far too hard. And of course being held by him. He might moan a lot, wear a face far too long for a man most days, and trust absolutely no one, but he was good when it came to holding her.
And the rest.
She missed the rest. More than she could say. She missed the feel of his calloused hands on her. The smell of his musk. The soft notes of his voice. She would have given a lot to have him there with her just then. But it wasn't to be.
All she had instead was a note from him. And it wasn't even a long note. Just a scrap of tissue with some words on it. But in that she supposed she was lucky compared to most. Most didn't get letters from their loved ones. Not during a war. Their loved ones simply went off to war and that was the last they heard of them until they returned – if they returned.
The note said exactly what it should say she supposed. That he loved her. That he wanted desperately to be with her. That he was delighted that she was with child. And that he would come to her as soon as he was able. But there was still a war going on in the realm between them. And he still had to do his duty and craft the weapons the armies needed.
It said one other thing that she found somewhat strange. It said that he was glad she was safe in the arms of her family. That he was safe too. And that though it might be a while before the war was ended, at least they now both knew they were safe until that happened.
It wasn't just the preoccupation with safety that she found odd. It was the thought that he actually believed they were both safe. They weren't. There was a war on, and though things seemed to be going well, there were no certainties. Wars turned. It was their very nature. That was why she was spending her days now training the town's people in the use of the sword and shield. Just in case the war turned for the worse and they had to defend themselves. And then there was the fact that he thought she
wanted
to be safe. To be out of the fighting! Why would she want that when it was her duty to ride with her brothers and sisters?
Some days she thought, Harl simply didn't understand her. He loved her, she had no doubt of that. And though she was certain he didn't understand what had been meant by property rights she was also certain he would have agreed to it if he had. But he didn't understand her.
No doubt he'd just been trying to say something comforting.
“Nyma?”
Nyma looked up suddenly when she heard her name called to see Master Torran standing at the entrance to the garden, her sword in his hands. Homes in Inel Ison did not have fences or walls as she knew many in the five kingdoms did. Children were watched closely by their parents as they played outside and others could wander freely as they chose, so there was no need for such things. But they still had entrances. Usually an ornamental feature of some sort on the sides of the path leading to the front door. In her family home's case the entrance was an archway of climbing roses trained over a delicate wooden frame that could hardly be seen under them. It had taken her mother years to grow the roses over the frame and she was very proud of it. Especially in Spring when the flowers were in full bloom.
“Master Torran.”
Nyma greeted him, knowing why he had come and glad he was returning the sword. Even though she was no longer in the battle and therefore not expected to carry it she felt somehow defenceless knowing it wasn't in the home. So she was glad when he walked over and laid the sword on the table before her.
She was also surprised to see him, expecting instead for his apprentice to come. After all it was a considerable journey from Carra Falls where he lived to Ilendigo, half a days ride at least. But she guessed it wasn't every day that one arcane smith was called upon to speak for another.
“This is exceptionally well crafted workmanship. Master Harl of the Elder Fire shows great promise. But then I expected that having heard that he trained under Master Gallowgood.”
“You knew Master Gallowgood?” Nyma was surprised by that, though maybe considering that he too was an arcane smith and it seemed to be a small community, she shouldn't have been.
“Not personally. But my master met him once and thought highly of his skill. He even purchased a piece of his once. It was sad to learn of his passing. There are few of us in these lands.”
There were so many things that Nyma could say to that and none of them that she wanted to. But the one thing she wanted to ask was whether he in fact knew of Master Gallowgood's death or was simply assuming it. Because she knew that the one thing that kept Harl awake at night was the fear that his old master might not be dead. That he might have been part of the betrayal. The man had been like family to him, and the fear that someone so close could have done such a thing gnawed at him. She suspected that fear gnawed at many of the wizards. Better she thought, that they should live with grief that their loved ones and friends had passed from the world than that they should ever have to learn that terrible truth.
“And your thoughts about him living in Inel Ison?”
That was why she'd given him the sword after all. And why she was relieved he liked the piece. If Harl chose to come here – and she didn't know if he would want to – he would need to have someone to speak for him. A skilled artisan such as Master Torran would be a powerful voice. But she did worry that maybe she was being selfish in wanting him to stay here rather than in the Rainbow Mountains, or one day when the war was won, returning to Lion's Crest. Then again she was with child, and the one thing everyone agreed on was that women such as her were entitled to be a little selfish.
“That his skill would be very welcome and I will say so to the Assembly. He can not only craft but teach and while there are only a dozen arcane smiths in the realm, there are five more students who show great promise. His help would be welcome.”
“Thank you.”
“It will not be an easy change for him. You should know that.” Master Torran suddenly sounded less reassuring. “Master Harl from what you've told us was a man who had completed his apprenticeship and set up his smithy in Lion's Crest. He was a man who in the five kingdoms had a bright future. He would likely have become very wealthy and attracted many titles and accolades as his master did before him. Those things will not fall before him here.”
That she knew too. She had told Harl a little of life among the dryads, of how different it was. But he had told her little of his life before Lion's Crest had fallen. Something of his family but little more. It was a subject that brought him pain she guessed. The pain of loss and grief. But against that he would have the one thing here that he would not find elsewhere; a new family. That she thought, would overcome his objections. And if she was going to have a baby she wanted to be near her family. Especially during the early years. Besides, family was sacrifice. If she had to give up her place as a custodian, he should have to give up something as well. It seemed only fair.
“He is a good man. He will find life among our people a welcome thing.”
But was that true or was it simply what she hoped would be true? It had been true for her grandfather. It had been true for many who had fled the five kingdoms in the wake of the false temple's arrival. But it wasn't true for all. And it especially wasn't true for those who had prospects. Many of them had chosen to move on, heading further afield where they could once more know the success they had had. Some had actually chosen to return to the five kingdoms and fight, determined to regain what they had lost. Death – which was likely what they had found – was preferable to life among her people.
“I will pray that you're right.”
Master Torran smiled politely at her, but she knew he had doubts. Just as did her family. As did everyone she had spoken to. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps she had simply allowed herself to be deceived by a dream. But it was a good dream. She needed to hang on to it.
Chapter Fifty Eight
Roland Pass. It was everything Erislee had been told it was. If anything it was worse. The pass was narrow strip of road that ran between two vast steep sided cliffs. It was one of the three passes that ran through the line of mountains separating Vardania from the Kingdom of the Lion, and probably the most difficult to reach. Just to get to the pass they'd had to climb through the foothills for days, wending their way along the narrow, twisted roads that led up to it.
Erislee was tired from the walking. They all were. She had forty thousand or more tired soldiers with her. Worse, the pass ahead was held by the enemy which meant that all that walking had been for nothing. They couldn't go on, yet.
As she studied the pass through the sight on her bow she could see leonids and harpies lodged into the overhangs and perched among the outcroppings, waiting eagerly to descend upon anyone riding through below them and tear them to shreds. Or to rain down arrows on their heads in the case of the priests taking shelter with their chimera in the rock crevices.
And this according to the war masters was the best of the three passes for them to try and make their way through. The other two between Vardania and the kingdom of the lion were just as dangerous though easier to reach at least. Unfortunately they were longer, and would allow more of the enemy to remain above those riding through and pick off their troops with their bows. If they marched through it, they would take heavy losses here, but not such terrible ones as they would take in the other two passes.
But Erislee had no plans on taking any more losses here. And thanks to the enemy's insanity she didn't have to. She hadn't known that for certain until just then. She'd only hoped it was so based on what the scouts had reported. But seeing the pass for the first time through the sights on her bow, she knew her plan would work.
The priests of the false temple and their chimera held the pass, and they weren't that great in number. Perhaps one to two thousand in all, and nine out of ten of them beasts. That meant that there were at most only a couple of hundred archers among them. Which was good as they posed the greatest threat. The leonids could be dealt with, but the archers in such a commanding position were harder. Probably each would be able to kill ten or twenty others before they were killed. They also had harpies among them, some three or four hundred at least, and they would have been very dangerous foes in a confined pass. In fact their narrow wingspan even gave them an advantage over the griffins within it.
The thralls had set up a three pronged attack for anyone who rode through the pass. The first was their arrows, which could take out a small force alone. The next were the harpies, and they would be utterly lethal as they swooped down on those caught in the narrow confines of the pass and scratched everyone they could. And finally there were the leonids who would come in to finish off anyone lucky enough to escape the first two. She estimated that there were probably over a thousand leonids and no doubt they had a quick way to descend to the ground and then fall among their enemies. In the closed in spaces of the pass they would simply overwhelm and then tear apart whoever had foolishly ridden through. It would be carnage.
Meanwhile on the other side of the pass, their enemy's enemies – the wizards and soldiers had set up a major encampment. Ten thousand soldiers and probably a couple of hundred wizards had arranged themselves in a huge semi circle around the far side of the pass, barely five hundred paces from its exit. They were out of the range of the archers, but close enough to hold back whoever came riding through.
She still didn't completely understand why they were there, but she understood their intentions. Containment. They would ensure that no one came through the pass and entered the Kingdom of the Lion. Not her forces and not the thralls and their beasts either. They were arranged as the Kingdom of the Lions' first line of defence. And from the reports she'd heard she also suspected it was actually the thrall army rather than her army who the Circle wizards deemed the greatest threat.
By the looks of things the Circle army had been there for a long time. Long enough to set up fortifications.
The war masters had said that if they rode through as they had to, they would lose at least one to two thousand men in the pass, before they had to face the wizards. But they also said it was still their best option and they had the numbers. They would get through. But she wasn't prepared to lose one or two thousand of her men. Not here. Not when thanks to the enemy's private war she didn't have to. It was just a matter of bringing the two enemies together.
Of course, the one thing that the wizard army wasn't going to do was enter the pass themselves. They knew it was a death trap. And the one thing the thrall army wasn't going to do was leave their pass. They were instead both planning on staying firmly where they were, knowing that in this particular battle whoever attacked first would lose.
Erislee however, intended to change the game by getting the soldiers and the wizards to enter the pass where they could then battle the thralls and the chimera. And once they'd finished killing one another she and her army could wipe out the survivors. The strange thing was that the way to do it had come to her not from the war masters but from her knowledge as a huntress. It was actually quite similar to flushing out prey with dogs. You used loud noises and simply scared them into running into the trap. Animals when they were frightened would run without any thought of what lay ahead of them. Only what was behind them. She was wagering that the soldiers would do the same. Especially if they couldn't see what lay ahead of them.
“Dina, are you and your people ready?” She knew they were but she still had to make certain before she gave the command.
Dina nodded.
“Then let's begin.”
Immediately Dina left her to go and stand with the other wizards of the sky who were set up on the top of a hill looking over at the pass. There were only forty of them all together – a far cry from the number there had once been – but that was enough she hoped. Especially when one of those forty was a Circle wizard, and none of those they were facing was. The six remaining Circle wizards would be firmly protected inside the walls of Lion's Crest.
At first of course, nothing seemed to happen. There was a slight breeze slowly building up behind their army heading into the pass, but nothing more. Nothing to raise the enemy's suspicions. It wasn't the attack the enemy were preparing for. It was no magical assault full of storms and lightning. It was just a gentle breeze. No one would see it for the true weapon it was.
But little by little the wizards added to their breeze, making it a tiny bit faster and more powerful, and perhaps half an hour later she could see for herself the effect it was having. The breeze was picking up the dust from the pass and sweeping it through and on to the soldiers in their encampment on the far side. And the dust was a serious nuisance. It blinded everyone in the pass and beyond. It stung the soldiers' eyes and made them turn away from the pass. Likewise the chimera and the thralls too looked uncomfortable as they sat crouched in their overlooks, and one or two of the beasts took missteps and fell to their deaths. It wasn't the intention but it was still a good sight to see. In the end every one of the enemy that died here was one less that they would have to fight later.
And no one yet realised this was even an attack. After all it was just a breeze and a bit of dust. They'd probably had to deal with them before. In fact they were so familiar with the problem that they didn't even try to use their wizards to stop the wind. Erislee hadn't expected them to. Because while the wizards and the soldiers were suffering they knew the thralls and their beasts in the pass itself were suffering worse. Why help your enemy?
She gave them a good hour to get used to the conditions before she set about the next part of the plan, and sent in the hounds. Though in this case the hounds were giant cats with wings who despite their size were very good at remaining unnoticed when they wanted to be. And they were especially good at it when their prey was hunkered down, shielding their eyes from the dust and concentrating only on what was in front of them – the pass filled with their enemies. They never saw the griffins coming. They never even thought to look up into the dust filled, yellow sky. They never looked behind them.
The first the soldiers and wizards knew of them was when eight hundred griffins suddenly descended on them, striking without warning, and always having a very specific target in mind – the wizards. They should have known better than to wear such gaudy outfits.
After that it was mayhem. There were wizards screaming and flying through the air, before their bloody bodies were dropped to the ground. Soldiers too were killed – there were simply more griffins than there were wizards. And the sound as the griffins roared was like thunder.
The response was completely predictable. The soldiers panicked. They couldn't see the griffins, only hear them and see the bodies falling all around them. They couldn't fight them when they were in the air – a few drew bows but without being able to see anything clearly they were loosing their arrows blindly. All they knew was that the enemy was behind them. And so they ran. Ten thousand soldiers jumped over their defensive fortifications and ran like frightened sheep. Away from the griffins and straight towards the pass and within range of the thralls and their bows.
It was a costly mistake for them as with the wind behind them the thralls could clearly see the soldiers running toward them. They started loosing their arrows at the panicking soldiers, and soon the men were falling like wheat fields being scythed.
Within a minute she would have guessed two or three thousand soldiers were dead, and the rest were panicking and running in all directions. Those who ran to either side of the pass as they fled were the luckiest. They couldn't be reached by the thralls' arrows and the griffins had a specific task to do which was to drive the army into the pass from behind. However, most didn't think about running left or right when they could hear the enemy right behind them. And they didn't realise as they scrambled over the arrow filled bodies of their fallen comrades that they were running head first into their enemy's clutches. They just ran forward into the pass, almost completely blinded by the dust coming at them but their ears filled with the roar of the griffins behind them.
Then the thralls sent in the harpies, and three or four hundred of them began unleashing their particular brand of death among them. It didn't take much. A strike here, a scratch their and soon soldiers were falling to the ground, dying of their diseased wounds. And unlike the arrows, the harpies could fly around corners. They could chase down those who had taken shelter to the sides of the pass and of course they did. They were hunters after all.
Five minutes later it was over. She had no idea how many had survived the attack, probably less than half at a guess. But she knew the survivors were no threat to them. They would be running, scattering to the sides, being hunted by the winged monsters. And though many still had weapons, there were no wizards among them. There were no wizards among the thralls either. Which left the field of battle completely open to their magic.
“Next phase!”
Erislee gave the command even as she brought the griffins back. Their eyes were naturally resistant to dust, but against what was coming it wouldn't be enough. Not nearly enough. Not when hundreds of wizards were about to unleash the fury of the underworld on the enemy.
It began with the wizards of the sky of course. They were the ones who could act at the greatest range. And soon the dust laden wind had become a gale, forcing them all to take cover. While the thralls could deal with that in their rocky perches and overlooks by covering their eyes and keeping low to the ground, the harpies weren't so lucky. Being so light they weren't strong fliers in high winds and so found themselves tossed around like leaves in a storm. Those who were only just returning from attacking the soldiers smashed into the sides of the cliffs and bounced off them, broken and screeching in confusion. Most of them were blown completely out of the pass.
Seeing that was a cause to celebrate. Harpies were foul creatures in Erislee's view. The world needed to be cleansed of them. But the harpies weren't their true targets. The thralls were. They after all were the ones controlling the beasts. And they like their chimera were lying down taking shelter from the wind, no doubt thinking it must sooner or later end. But what they couldn't shelter from was lightning, and soon there were massive strikes flashing down all around them. Thunder boomed, and little by little the true danger began to unfold. The thralls began to lose control of their beasts.