Blood Rites 5, page 14
Tomorrow, Lazarus would leave for Red Redoubt, a critical step in their campaign, a blow to Sanguiana’s power that would resonate all the way to Castle Ravenhold, if they were successful.
Sylvia felt a pang of sadness at her love’s departure, but it was overshadowed by her sense of duty and purpose. She had chosen to stay behind with Belladonna and Selena, to aid them in their crucial task. Belladonna, with Lothoss's guidance, was working on a spell that could weaken the black goddess—a task of utmost importance and one that Sylvia was interested to observe and learn from.
The upiór woman, Yvila, would also be there. She was an immortal, like Sylvia, a potential god-hater and ally. Sylvia felt a kinship with the woman.
But she did not trust her enough to leave Belladonna alone in her presence.
Even if Lazarus had not asked her to, Sylvia would have wanted to stay and protect the baroness. Bella was her best friend—for years had been her only friend—and Sylvia would do anything in her power to help her complete her mission.
She refused to allow herself to be jealous of Lothoss, the god who was willing to betray his own kind in order to help them weaken and hopefully banish Sanguiana and Valka from the mortal realm.
But she didn’t have to like him, either.
It rankled Sylvia that her best friend had always been so obsessed with her absent god, and now that he’d deigned to show up, she resented his influence over Belladonna.
But it couldn’t be helped. Sylvia would not interfere with Bella’s divine connections, even if it had been Lothoss who helped bind Sylvia to the Blackwood clan all those centuries ago. She was Bella’s friend, and Bella needed her.
If Yvila was right, and there was a way to sever the bond between the divine and mortal realms… if Lothoss was destined to disappear from Bella’s life as quickly as he’d appeared… so be it. Sylvia would be there to comfort her friend and remind her that she had never been and would never be alone, no matter what those blasted meddlers got up to.
After Red Redoubt, the battlefront would move to Castle Ravenhold, and that was the moment that Sylvia truly waited for. The impending attack on Queen Desdemona loomed in the distance, yet she felt ready for it, hungry for the blood that would spill, the sweet justice that would be dispersed after so many centuries of divine intervention holding Selunath back from its potential.
Sylvia’s bond with Lazarus, Belladonna, and the others was forged of unbreakable celestium. It was only made stronger by the fact that it was forged by choice, by her own free will.
Sylvia was free to fight for anyone she chose to.
She was no longer bound by the obligations of her past life; she was here because she wanted to be, because she believed in their cause. She chose to fight for Bella, for Lazarus, for the kingdom of Selunath.
And they would win, of that she was certain.
With a final glance at the Keep, Sylvia turned and glided towards the mountains, her wings cutting through the air with powerful strokes. The stunning morning flight was refreshing and enjoyable, but she had a mission to fulfill, a purpose that went beyond her own desires.
While Lazarus and his army attacked Red Redoubt, Sylvia would scout the Blackspine Mountains and report back to Belladonna so that the baroness could send messengers to Lazarus and his men.
Armed with the strength of her newfound family and the resolve of her own heart, the huge silver dragon swept through the clouds toward the dark, stone ridges of the alpine province.
Whatever Sanguiana was hiding in those black peaks and ridges, Sylvia would discover it. The wretched goddess would have no more secrets when they burned her to the ground.
15
Red Redoubt
As Lazarus led his army toward Red Redoubt, the night of chaos—with Sanguiana’s cultists attempting to kidnap the children of Haven House and Selena’s unexpected transformation—felt like it belonged to another lifetime. Belladonna had used her vampiric magic to drain all the surviving cultists of their lives and their memories, including the weather worker who had made the assault possible. But she had come away with less concrete information than she had the last time.
It was as if Sanguiana was able to alter the memories of her followers, or there was some kind of interference preventing them from learning more about the cultists and the sacrifices going on at Red Redoubt.
The only thing there was no uncertainty of was that the redoubt was where the stolen children from across Selunath were being taken, and that was enough for Lazarus to push forward with his campaign.
They marched through the snow and half-frozen mud, straight north from Crimson Keep, keeping close to the border between Silvergrass Steppe and Shadowmoor provinces. Just past the ruined and now abandoned Shattered Citadel, Red Redoubt came into view like a black wraith against the overcast sky.
As they trod along, feet freezing, horses blowing steam into icy air, Lazarus reviewed the strategy meticulously in his mind, his gaze fixed on the looming stronghold at the confluence of the Blood River's veins. The fortress was well-situated for defense, surrounded by the converging waterways that created natural barriers on two sides. The main approach was a narrow strip of land leading to the formidable gates, a direct path that would leave his forces exposed but was essential for the plan to succeed.
Beside him, Aria clicked her tongue and brought her horse up alongside Lazarus’s. She had her thick, cream-colored woolen hood pulled over her chestnut hair and the wavy ends that stuck out the bottom had grown frosted with her breath. The young healer gave him a wry look with her honey brown eyes. “So… the plan is just to ride up to their front gates?” she asked. “I expected something more… I don’t know…”
“Sneaky?” Rowan supplied from his other side.
Gisele rode behind the ranger with her arms wrapped around Rowan’s middle as she gazed in wonder at the snowy world around her. “I can’t believe I’m riding into battle,” she said in awe. “It feels different now than it did when Duchess Talon attacked Crimson Keep. They were at least a bit sneaky, though, Lazarus. We didn’t know they were coming until suddenly they were there. Are you sure about this?”
Lazarus gave each of his women a stern look. “Doubting me already, are you?”
“Not doubting you at all,” Aria said, shaking her head. She wore a small smile that told him she knew he was just teasing, despite his serious expression. “I’m assuming I’m missing something. I was busy healing the injured townspeople when you were finalizing details with Thaddeus and Herschel, remember? I don’t know what you’re planning.”
“Most of the soldiers don’t know either,” Rowan said, leaning forward to grin at the healer. “That’s often how it is in military work. A need-to-know basis.”
“Well, I’m not a soldier,” Gisele said, peering over Rowan’s shoulder at Lazarus. “And I need to know, or the curiosity might kill me.”
“Better that than an arrow,” Rowan said. “Don’t forget, you’re mortal now.”
Gisele squeezed tighter around the ranger’s waist, lowering her voice a touch. “You’ll protect me, though, right, Rowan? I’m too young to die!”
Lazarus shook his head at their antics. “The idea is to use our main force as a distraction. Our direct assault must be convincing enough to draw out the bulk of their defenders, leaving their flanks vulnerable to Thaddeus and Herschel's surprise attacks."
“So, you do want them to see us,” Aria confirmed with a brisk nod. “I will keep my medics well back from the action, if that’s all right by you.”
“We’ll clear each area and make sure you know when it’s safe to enter,” Lazarus said. “Gisele, you can stay with Aria and help the healers. Without martial training you’ll be a liability on the frontlines, but you can make yourself useful as a support.”
Gisele narrowed her eyes slightly as she glared at him from behind Rowan’s shoulder. “I’m going to ignore the fact that you called me a liability,” she said. “And pretend that you want me as a support because you value my life too highly to take unnecessary risks with it.”
“That’s the spirit,” Rowan said. “Though I must say, I wish you could still pull those terrifying faces you used to in your ghost form. It’s much easier to shoot your enemies when they’re shitting their pants in fear.”
Lazarus’s mind went back to his strategy as the girls bickered about which skills were more useful in battle. He envisioned Thaddeus's troops emerging from Phantom Forest to the west. Their approach would be masked by the thick foliage, allowing them to strike at the western walls of Red Redoubt, where the enemy would be least expecting an attack. Thaddeus's men were skilled in forest warfare, their quiet movements and swift strikes perfect for this kind of surprise assault. And their small, well-trained group would be able to cross the river without being detected, unlike a larger force.
Simultaneously, Herschel's team would advance from the east, near Wispshine Lake. The fog from the Saltmarsh would provide excellent cover, enabling them to approach unseen. Herschel’s group, smaller and more agile, would target the eastern watchtowers and archer positions, creating chaos and confusion within the fortress.
As for his own forces, Lazarus planned a frontal assault.
"Ours is the most dangerous position," he said. “It’s also the most important.”
He hoped the words would be a warning for Gisele not to take the matter lightly. Rowan had years of military experience under her belt and was the most accomplished scout in Crimson Keep. Aria, while she was a healer, had also proven herself on the battlefield as a powerful wielder of divine magic—destroying undead and draining the lives of the living with equal ruthlessness. Gisele had been a strong fighter in her ghost form, but she had never been trained in combat while in a mortal body, and the fear of getting hurt or being killed might prove too much for her in the heat of battle.
“I still have my connection to Nocturna,” Gisele said, sounding slightly chagrined. “Maybe I have magic in this form, too? Surely all those years in the realm of the dead can’t have left me unchanged. I don’t want to be a liability, Lazarus.”
The cold air nipped her cheeks, leaving red patches on them that stood out like cherries next to her golden blond curls. Lazarus regretted his tone even if he stood by his words. “You are important to me, Gisele,” he said. “There is no shame in not being a warrior. Maybe you do have magic to draw on; it’s worth asking Nocturna about. But even if you don’t, there are many ways that you can help our resistance. I only ask that you be careful, and not put yourself in unnecessary danger. I won’t allow anything to happen to you, if I am in any way able to prevent it. But I don’t want saving you to distract me from my command. Do you understand?”
She nodded and the other two women lapsed into silence as they drew closer to the fortress, the reality of the upcoming battle settling over the group like a burial shroud.
Lazarus’s troops, the bulk of Crimson Keep's army, would march straight up the narrow land bridge toward the fortress gates. They would need to maintain formation under heavy fire, using shields to protect themselves from arrows and spells.
He pointed out their route, and explained how they would be approaching their mark. “Aria,” Lazarus said, drawing her honey-brown eyes to his in an instant, “You and your apprentices will be crucial here as we make the initial push. You’ll stay positioned behind the front lines, but I need you to be ready to move as we do, tending to the wounded quickly, and keeping pace behind the vanguard line.”
Aria nodded. “We have plenty of bandages, healing salves, herbs for pain relief, and anti-infection potions,” she said. “Jasper and Elly will tend to minor injuries with our supplies, and I will draw on my powers of Divine Healing to treat those with more serious wounds.”
Lazarus glanced behind his shoulder to see Jasper and Elara—who preferred to be called Elly—riding side by side, looking somber and serious in their white and gold robes. Jasper, the eldest at sixteen years, was tall and gangly, with a mop of curly sandy-brown hair worn in a disheveled crown above his keen green eyes. Elly exuded calm and control, though she was barely fifteen years old. Her short, raven-black hair framed her face in stark contrast to her pale skin and alarmingly blue eyes. Of the two, Elly was the more mature—her life as a refugee making her wise beyond her years. But Jasper’s eagerness to impress her kept him in line. Lazarus approved of the pair Aria had chosen for this journey, opting to keep her younger students in Crimson Keep until Belladonna joined them in the Blackspine Mountains.
“So, my scouts and I will flank the main leg of the army,” Rowan said, pointing at the eastern and western edges of the sprawling fortress. “We’ll make a pass around the back of the redoubt, report back on the terrain, and check for any hidden traps or ambushes. Then we’re to return here?”
Lazarus nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I want you to be ready to leave shortly. Pick off any enemy archers or ranged magic users who might pose a threat to us as we advance. There’s a small dip in the steppes up ahead, where we’ll lay low until you return.”
“Understood.” Rowan pulled up her horse and moved to the side of the trail, signaling her team of scouts to prepare for departure. Lazarus slowed to a stop beside her, letting the rest of the troops move past, making for the location he’d had marked out in advance for their initial camp.
Rowan glanced over her shoulder at Gisele. “You’ll have to ride with Aria or go on foot from now,” she said.
The former ghost girl slid from the horse’s back without ceremony, landing lightly on her feet.
“I’ll walk,” she said. “I’ve been talking to Nocturna, and there’s something I’d like to try…”
The ranger looked down at the doll-like blond woman who grinned up at them. “Have you, now? Already?”
“Oh, she lives in my head,” Gisele said. “Doesn’t Felina talk to you that way? At first it was annoying, but now I think I’d be lonely if it was just me with my own thoughts in here.”
Aria laughed. “Try having two, bickering all the time.”
A look of sadness flickered across Rowan’s face, and she shared a glance with Lazarus, who knew what it felt like to be suddenly thrust into silence after learning to share one’s head with a god.
“Good luck, Gisele,” Lazarus said. “Remember, when the fighting starts, stay with Aria. I will have to leave you all to discuss with my lieutenants. Be careful, all of you. I’m counting on you to keep one another safe. Lives will be lost today, don’t let it be yours.”
“We are strongest together,” Aria said, nodding. “Our duty to Selunath demands we survive.”
Lazarus wished they weren’t mounted, so he could hold and kiss each of his women before they parted ways. But they had spent their last comfortable moments at Crimson Keep in each other’s arms, made peace with the uncertainty of their futures, and said their I-love-yous and their goodbyes in the case that things didn’t go to plan.
So, he reached out a hand to each of them, squeezing their fingers in his, one at a time, and left all the words in his heart unsaid. There would be no time for sentimentality once the attack on Red Redoubt began. They would not be able to come together again as a harem until Queen Desdemona and her false goddess were dethroned and Selunath was free of their influence for good.
"If everything goes according to plan," Lazarus thought, "we'll create enough confusion to breach the fortress. Thaddeus and Herschel's teams will converge from their respective sides, squeezing the enemy into a pincer. Meanwhile, our main force will push through the gates. You’re all ready?"
The women nodded as one, solemn and heartfelt.
They all understood the risks, the potential for high casualties. But this was a necessary gambit to dismantle Sanguiana’s stronghold and cut off her supply of sacrifices. Every step they took, every strategy they executed, was a step closer to ending her reign of terror.
The success of the mission depended not just on their strategy, but on the bravery and resilience of every soldier under his command. And his women were the strongest and most resilient of them all. He smiled at them, feeling the slow spread of genuine warmth and love for each of them.
"Stay alert, stay alive," he reminded them—and himself—a mantra he had repeated countless times over his long military career. “I’ll see you on the other side.”
Rowan’s green eyes flashed as she drew her reins back and turned her horse, going to collect her scouts for their final orders.
Gisele bowed, her purple-gray robes billowing about her in the cold wind, her cheeks blazing red with cold and excitement. She grinned and then disappeared into the crowd of soldiers, off to test her bond with Nocturna.
Aria bit her lip, and cocked her head to the side as if listening to the words of her patron gods. Then she nodded, and turned her horse toward her apprentices, moving away from Lazarus without another word.
On the horizon, the fortress loomed ever closer. Lazarus tightened his grip on his reins.
When he was alone, he closed his eyes and whispered a paladin’s prayer, steeling his mind for the battle ahead.
"May the blood spilled this day seep into the very soil of our beloved kingdom.
Let the nourishment of our sacrifice become the sustenance that fortifies and rejuvenates Selunath.
Let each drop that falls upon this hallowed ground serve as a testament to our resolve,
A solemn offering to the future of our land,
Ensuring that from this sacrifice, strength and prosperity will blossom and thrive for generations to come."
He wasn’t sure where the words had come from, hardly remembered the life in which he’d first learned them. Yet he knew deep in his soul that they were the truest words he could have spoken in that moment.
His whisper became a blessing that rippled out across the gathered forces—a red, shimmering wave visible only to Lazarus—giving them strength for what was to come.
