Gift of the Shaper, page 31
"So what, then?" Durakas said as he walked over and took a swing at the surface of the air. It produced a loud clank as his sword connected. "We wait?"
Tennech lowered his eyes and looked at the commander. "We wait." He urged Calathet around as he surveyed his men. "And it had better not be long."
Chapter 48
Outskirts of Kienar
Dhrostain
Dhrostain was not afraid to speak his mind. "I don't like these things one bit," he grumbled. "Ghaja Rus might say that they're tame, but I don't see him riding one all the way across Derenar."
The two captains were nearing the forest of Kienar, each seated atop their own Gwarái, which Rus had personally procured for them at the behest of the general. It was just past midday, right when they were told to be there; and the beasts were lumbering on heedlessly, unaware of—or apathetic to—the riders commanding them.
"I don't trust him either, Farryn, but do you want to be the one to disappoint the Dagger of Derenar?"
Dhrostain let the words tumble around in his head a bit before frowning and cursing his luck. "No, I don't," he finally said. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."
The blond Thurian captain laughed. "Fine, Farryn. I won't tell anyone how much you enjoyed it."
Dhrostain glanced at Hullis with a look he normally reserved for Chovathi right before he removed the head. But before he could say anything, Hullis put his hand up.
"Listen," he said. "Do you hear that?"
The two captains had brought their beasts to a halt with an ease that surprised both riders.
"Hmm?" Dhrostain mumbled, straining to listen. "I don't hear anything."
Hullis looked annoyed with his traveling companion. "Then you're not listening."
Dhrostain pulled on the end of his dark black beard and shifted atop his ghastly mount. "I give up. What is it?"
"It sounds like a wind storm," Hullis started. His left ear was tilted to the sky, with one hand cupped around it.
"Now I know you're joking," Dhrostain said with a laugh. "It's calmer than a Valurian wedding out here." He tapped the leather strap that served as makeshift reins for his Gwarái. "Let's keep moving."
"I'm not joking," Hullis snapped. The young captain had an angry look painted on his face, and his scowl told Dhrostain just how serious he was. "I think they may be going in."
Dhrostain raised his head skyward in dreadful contemplation. "That's not good," he said without looking back.
"No," the blond captain replied.
"The general won't be happy."
"No, he won't."
"Then we'd better see just how fast these things can move." He turned to Hullis with a look of concern, knowing full well what he had to do and liking it even less.
"Your secret will be safe with me," Hullis smirked as he dug his feet into the ribs of the mighty black leviathan. With a terrifying grunt, the creature responded with quickness, both unexpected and unbelievable, surging forward past Dhrostain and his mount, who scowled and did the same.
"It had better be," he shouted.
***
The two captains had passed Lusk hours ago, and now only Kienar lay before them, its lushness creeping up the horizon like ivy over stones. The two Thurians knew they were close and that they would have to sustain the frenzied pace for just a little while longer. Regardless, it didn't seem to affect their mounts at all, who actually seemed like they were chasing something.
The Gwarái sped across the land with incredible velocity. Their gait, nowhere close to that of other mounted creatures, was as efficient as it was rough. The two Thurian captains found themselves clinging to the long necks of the creatures as they galloped on, reins gripped desperately in one hand, like fleas latched onto charging wolves.
The long necks of the creatures were extended fully forward as they pounded the ground with their clawed feet, resembling enormous black panthers as they charged, legs stretching out in front of them in impossibly quick strides and swinging under their body after pummeling the ground beneath them. Their wild yellow eyes were wide open as they ran, but they did not need to see where they were going. Their powerful sense of smell was what guided them now, and even their riders couldn't hold them back, even if they tried.
For what drove them was stronger than any human.
What drove them ensured they would not slow.
The great black streaks tore across the land as relentlessly as the predators they were, edging closer and closer to something that neither Hullis nor Dhrostain could sense, but it was definitely there: the blood of the Shaper.
Their master, the Breaker, was waiting. And they were coming to set him free.
Chapter 49
Kienar
Miera
Miera fought him every step of the way.
Her hands were bound behind her, together at the wrists with a long, thin rope that was fastened around her waist. The only thing keeping her from running was the watchful eye of D'kane, whose vigilance in keeping her close bordered on obsessive. Once again she jerked her arm away as he tried to place his hand on her.
"I keep telling you that you're just going to wear yourself out," the Khyth said. His pulsating, swirling eyes were locked onto her, and his hideous face was warped into a sneer.
Miera ignored him as he tried again, wrapping his pale fingers around the upper part of her arm to maintain his grasp. I won't let him get to me, she kept telling herself. She hadn't said a word since they left Khala Val'ur.
"It's not much further. Look," D'kane said as he pointed, "the forest of Kienar lies ahead. Tennech and his army will be waiting for us there." He was staring right at her now. "And I can finally rid myself of you."
The words were a sharp dagger to her chest. "What?" she gasped, realizing too late that her reaction was exactly what the Master Khyth had been digging for.
"So you have not forgotten how to speak," he said. "Good. You'll need your voice when we arrive."
One thing was certain: everything about D'kane made her nervous, from the way he looked, to the way he sounded—even his words were ominous and deliberate. She hoped that he was only trying to get a rise out of her again. Relenting, she spoke her mind.
"I'm not going to help you free the Breaker," she said. Her words were defiant, and the weight of truth gave them purpose. "There's no point in even trying."
D'kane didn't need to look at her to see that she meant what she said. Perhaps that was why his sudden and fitful laughter sent a shiver down her spine.
"You think you have a choice," the servant of the Breaker said with wild eyes. "I'm not even sure I need you alive, but I'd rather not risk it." He tightened his grip on her arm. "No, you're going to help me," he hissed through his teeth. "It's just a matter of how much of a fight you put up."
Miera looked away as the two of them continued walking. Her thoughts, as they had been for the last few days, were on Thornton. She hoped that he hadn't forgotten about her, and something in the back of her mind told her that he hadn't. The way he had looked for Olson when he went missing was the one reassurance she had that he would never give up. Despite the fact that she had seen no sign of him—or the Kienari—since D'kane had carried her away, she would not surrender her last bit of hope. Instead, she clung to it like a piece of driftwood in an ocean of doubt, keeping her head just above the reach of the pounding waves, in desperate determination not to drown.
The two of them continued walking toward the forest, and as they got closer, the sound of swirling wind filled their ears.
"It seems that the general has chosen not to wait," D'kane said to himself. "Come," he said as he tugged on Miera's arm, urging her forward, "we've no time."
Miera stumbled as she tried to dig her heels into the ground in a feeble attempt to slow them down. When she did, she felt D'kane's hand heat up as he pulled her in to face him, and the cracked lines in his face glowed a muted orange that looked like fire.
"Don't test me, child," he growled. The flash of power behind his words was only a hint, Miera knew, of what a Khyth fully enraged and bent on destruction was capable of. Her legs nearly gave out beneath her, but the strong hand of the black-robed Valurian was enough to keep her upright. "I'm beginning to question my decision to let you live."
Their progress was halted, though, by the sudden sound of thunder—thunder, it seemed, that was coming closer.
Closer on four legs.
D'kane
No, D'kane thought—eight. He saw the familiar forms of Hullis and Dhrostain perched upon massive mounts of black galloping closer.
"So it was you they were after," Hullis said as his Gwarái slowed to a stop. Its forked tongue traced the crests and valleys of its razor-sharp teeth as the creature moved its head to Miera's, heaving moistened air in and out of its great nostrils with enough force to move her hair.
"Control your mount, Captain," D'kane snarled. "It's not yet time."
Hullis acknowledged the command with a yank of the makeshift reins that fed into the creature's mouth, causing its long neck to snake backward and allowing it to stare the Thurian right in the eye.
"I don't think he likes that," Dhrostain said as he struggled with his own Gwarái.
"Clearly he doesn't," Hullis answered, maintaining eye contact with the Shaper's Bane. His hand crept toward his sword in silent reaction to the guttural growl that came rumbling from the long black throat of the Gwarái.
"Stop fooling around," D'kane barked. He reached behind for the Hammer strapped to his back, taking it out of the sling and holding it in his hands for the first time since Khala Val'ur. He spun it in his grip like a dance partner as he felt the surge of the Otherworld flow through him more strongly than ever. He knew that their proximity to the chains—and to the Otherworld—had everything to do with it. "Now come. We have an army to meet."
With the Hammer present, the two Gwarái seemed to suddenly shut out the world around them and raised their heads to the center of the forest, to Naknamu, where the door to their master lay. Theirs was a look of possession, of intense concentration, that knew no equal.
"Looks like they know it too," Dhrostain remarked. "I don't think we have a choice."
The creatures moved forward with no urging from their riders, like spiders crawling back into their webs—insidious and purposeful, careful and deft, and with the feel of struggling prey within their slowly closing grasp.
Endar
Yorvath's eyes were closed as he worked the air around him, bending it to his will and forcing it to change, becoming something it was not. His blood brother, Bellarin, stood beside him doing the same, intensifying the effort of Shaping and making the effect even more powerful. They were like a pair of dancers who knew each other's steps inside and out, moving seamlessly across a ballroom floor with effortless grace and poise. Their hands knew the motions as they worked together in time, weaving and waving in a peregrine display. After years of working together, it was no wonder the effects were so precise.
So when both of their eyes shot open in panic, Endar knew right away that something was wrong.
"No," Yorvath whimpered as a specter of fear began to permeate the forest, moving in like a shadow to blanket the Kienari homeland. It was a weight crushing down on the chests of every Athrani under the branches of Naknamu, and it brought with it the realization that an ancient terror thought by everyone to be long dead had returned at last.
The arms of the two Athrani men fell fecklessly before them, as useless as their Shaping had just become.
"It cannot be," Bellarin said, his own voice hoarse and barely above a whisper.
Endar felt it too. In the hairs on his neck and in the depths of his heart, his terror grew. "Yet it is," he said as he drew his sword. The fear in his eyes was real, but he did not let it last long enough for his men to see it. He shook it off, knowing that now more than ever they needed strength.
"Brothers!" he shouted, raising his sword high into the air. "Where Shaping fails, our swords and spears will find victory!" He turned his head, shifting in his saddle, to make sure his voice was heard by the whole of the Athrani Legion. "You've marched the length and breadth of this land, protecting it, and now the time has come to fulfill the oath you swore when you first joined the Legion. For the Shaper," he yelled.
"And for Eternity!" the Legion boomed in response.
As he thrust his sword forward toward the advancing army of Gal'dorok, he caught a glimpse of sunlight shining and shimmering throughout the trees. No, not shining, he thought—reflecting. It was the tips of the arrows, nocked and ready, that were poised on the edges of Kienari bowstrings, waiting like the teeth of tigers to engulf their prey.
With the strength of the forest behind him, he charged at the army before him. And with his attention focused so far in front, he had no way to see the flanking group of riders, led by a tall brunette dressed in Valurian steel, that was closing in to split his army in half.
Durakas
"The Gwarái have arrived," came the voice of one of the Khyth standing behind the general. "The Athrani will have felt it."
Commander Durakas turned around to marvel at the two black beasts that made their way through the rear of the army, dwarfing his men and towering over the multitude. He had never before seen such monstrosities, and the tales he had heard as a boy did them no justice, as they rumbled like mountains through a valley of men. They held their heads aloft as they walked, grazing the treetops with their impossibly long necks; and they were guided by the unearthly glow of their two yellow eyes, shining like beacons on a hill.
"By the Breaker," he whispered, "the stories fall so short."
His men could barely register the sight, and some narrowly missed being trampled as they stood in amazement at the creatures of legend, brought to life before their eyes.
The war-hardened Dagger of Derenar made no indication that he was so moved. "Now is not the time for fear!" Tennech shouted. His words barely registered in the ears of the awe-struck soldiers. "Now is the time to become fear!" He dug his heels into the ribs of Calathet, spurring him on. "To the tree!" he shouted.
Breaking out of their trance, the army of Gal'dorok was slow to awaken. But beneath the shadows of the advancing behemoths, they felt the urgency and the beckoning of war, calling them forth to the chains.
D'kane
D'kane watched as the swarm of soldiers surged forward to clear the path to Naknamu, smiling a sinister smile to the girl as he clutched her arm in one hand and the Hammer of the Worldforge in the other.
"It won't be much longer now," he said as he watched the battle begin to unfold. "Come," he said as he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward a horse that Tennech had readied for them. "The Breaker awaits."
Chapter 50
Kienar
Endar
When the first of the swords struck armor, Endar felt alive. The two armies met like waves crashing over rocks, a cacophonous clattering of skin and steel, blood and soil. Hoarse war cries sounded as both sides advanced beneath a hail of arrows, surging forward, spears and fists meeting bone and flesh. The ghastly yellow eyes of the Gwarái towered above them, boring straight into the heart of his army.
"Kethras, if you're listening," Endar shouted to the trees, "get those things out of here!"
The mere presence of the Gwarái was enough to tie their strongest arm behind their back, that of Athrani Shaping. Outnumbered and out-powered, he watched their narrowing chances become slimmer and slimmer.
Then from behind him came the sounds of steel on steel as the shouts from his men told him that they were being outflanked. He turned in time to see the one leading the charge and was shocked to recognize a fellow Ellenian, perched atop her war horse, commanding a group of riders.
"Shieldmen!" Endar shouted. "Turn and attack!"
The Legion was visibly shaken, and a large number of them were quickly realizing that they were not cut out for this. As the threat of death by a blade to the throat became increasingly more real, panic began to set in and Endar knew he had no choice but to take matters into his own hands. He grabbed the reins of his mount and climbed on.
Turning to Thuma, he said, "Press the attack. We've been flanked and have no choice but to split the forces."
His second-in-command looked at him, perplexed. "Why tell me? You are the leader of this army."
"Because," Endar replied, "I must do this myself." With a nod to Olson, he said, "Blacksmith, come with me."
With a quick kick to his horse, he was off, to the rear of the Legion, hoping to regain control of a quickly spiraling situation.
Thuma
Thuma watched his commander ride away with Olson in tow. Then, wasting no more time, he turned around and began yelling commands to the soldiers within earshot. While he did not have Endar's gift for speeches, he made up for it in military prowess.
"Spearmen, advance! We will meet them head on. Swords at the ready!" Thuma was already formulating the right approach to meet the enemy and keep them at bay. "Archers, spread out and use the trees as cover. It's our best shot at slowing them down."
The volley of arrows continued steadily as both armies tried to pare down the number of soldiers remaining.
Standing silently by his side was Jinda, the quiet yet imposing Captain of the Guard of Annoch. He looked up at Thuma, who had been suddenly thrust into command, and asked simply, "Where am I needed?"
Thuma looked him over. He was rugged and strong and looked like he had seen his fair share of battles. Being from beyond the Wastes of Khulakorum, this was almost certainly true. Thuma looked back to the clashing forces behind him, nearest the Tree, and then again to the ones bearing down in front of him. He frowned and pointed forward with his chin. "We need to reinforce the front line. We're already outnumbered, and now we are in danger of being overtaken."
"Then I will cut down their number," Jinda said. From a strap on his back he removed an axe and produced a dagger from his boot. With a wild look in his eye, he looked right at Thuma. "Best of luck," he said and vanished.
