Sea of Souls, page 37
Its cavernous mouth gaped. Elodi’s eyes were drawn into its throat, slick with a gray slime that glistened in a dull light glowing from within. The demons announced their return. Three voices boomed, rising and falling as if the Evil One himself blew his foul breath through a great horn. Elodi’s heart vibrated against her breastplate as the stench of death turned her guts to water.
The creatures moved, taking long, lumbering strides towards Elodi’s line. Once more, she searched for the guards posted at the trench. Should she give the signal to light the fuses? Or were these creatures an apparition, sent for the purpose of wasting her powder. Something stayed her hand.
The burning eyes of the beast opposite Elodi, fell upon her. She cowered as if the very air desired to crush her bones into the dirt. Sea Mist took a step back. Elodi clenched her jaw, vowing to herself, ‘No! I will not be afraid.’ She swallowed her fear and found her voice. ‘By the Three, Bardon. Surely, they cannot be real. But the ground trembles. Do the old tales speak of these craven beasts?’
Bardon stuttered. ‘I… recall just the one. A story of Gildorul of Keld. Before a great battle in Nordruuk.’
‘Then what are they? How are we supposed to fight them?’
His mouth gaped. ‘Reapers. They were named Reapers. They come from the Underworld to lay claim to the souls of those about to die.’
She grasped his forearm. ‘But are they real, Bardon? Should we retreat?’
His wide eyes stayed fixed on the creatures. ‘I… I’m afraid I don’t know, Elodi. I never thought they existed. I assumed they were a creation of our storytellers.’ The ground shuddered as the Reapers stepped over the trench and swung their giant scythes. Elodi ducked as a gust of foul air blew over their heads. The Reaper at the center stopped, then leveled the tip of its long blade at Elodi’s heart. It stooped, thrusting its large head forward to lock eyes with Elodi. Slowly, it lifted the blade above its head. She froze. The Reaper made its intention known — it would slice her open, rip out her heart, and banish her soul to its vault deep beneath the mountains in the north. There she would be confined for eternity, and at the mercy of the beast’s dark desires. Through her tight throat she managed only one word. ‘Bardon?’ But he too was held in the grasp of the Reaper.
Elodi clutched her chest and screamed. The Amayan within resisted. The hold released. She gasped for air as the Reapers’ blades swished again across their ranks. Elodi cried out against the reek of decaying flesh. ‘They want to take us all!’ Some fell on their faces, crying out, some braved the assault, but others turned and fled. Elodi forced herself upright. She found her voice. It rang clear across the plain. ‘Hold the line! Do not fear them!’ Her body burned. Amayan Fire!
Elodi threw off her helm, tossed her breastplate and armor into the dirt, then urged Sea Mist forward. ‘Be brave, Misty. Be brave for me once more.’ Her loyal horse answered her call. His back rose as he surged towards the danger. Elodi yelled at the Reapers. ‘I am an Amayan! Begone, craven beasts. You do not belong here.’ She thrust her sword to the sky. A bolt of blue burst forth, flooding the plain, and blasting the eyes of all who dared to challenge her.
The Reapers halted. She drew up Sea Mist twenty paces short. All three fixed their gaze on Elodi. But horse and rider refused to cower. She praised her mount. ‘Brave boy, Misty.’ She met the glare of the creature at the center and bellowed. ‘I deny you. The souls of my army are not yours to take. You have no claim here.’ Their mournful call ceased; the battlefield held its breath. Sea Mist snorted. Elodi leveled her sword at the chest of the opposing Reaper. ‘Go back to your dark pits!’ She unleashed a second bolt. The Reapers wavered and staggered back. Their eyes dimmed. Smoke billowed and swirled about their shrinking forms. Then their spirits fled back from where they had come, and their bodies fell as ashes, soon to be blown from the battlefield.
A sword clashed on a shield. Dorlan sat at the head of Calerdorn’s captured knights. He grinned. ‘I admire your courage, Elodi. But that was just a taste of what will come. As a reward, I will allow you to return to your line. But this time, there is no place for you to run and hide.’ He jabbed his sword at her. ‘Your life is mine, Elodi. And I will take your head as a trophy for the walls of Calerdorn. But not before I have had—’
‘I know of your past, Dorlan.’ Elodi calmly replied. ‘I pity you. I pity what you have become.’ The great knight’s mouth twitched. She continued. ‘Today, we shall free you from the dark that enslaves your soul.’ She swept her sword across the front line behind Dorlan. ‘And all who dare to take one more step into our realm, will feel the pain of our steel.’
Dorlan scoffed. ‘You shall eat your empty words before the day is out. I shall trample your army’s bones into the plain, but as for you, Lady Harlyn. I shall take you back to Calerdorn and parade you before your people. Then I shall humiliate you, and then take—’
Elodi turned her back and kicked on Sea Mist, but only at a trot. She passed one of the hideouts behind the trench. The guard inside caught her eye. ‘We held our position, ma’am, just as you commanded.’
She kept her eyes ahead and spoke as loud as she dared. ‘Your bravery is surpassed by none. Await my signal. And may the Three be with you.’
Elodi reached her line. Those who had fled returned to their positions but could not look their leader in the eye. Elodi gazed upon them with pity. The fire still burned within. Her voice carried across the plain. ‘Do not be ashamed of your fear. You were tested beyond your limits. But it is in such times we find our true strength. Stand now. Stand together. And stand firm.’
Bardon sat aghast. ‘That was… if I ever… I don’t think those creatures could have conceived you’d charge straight at them.’
She managed a smile. ‘Neither did I. But by the Three, Bardon, those demons should have turned and taken their pick of the rotten lot behind—’ A thunderclap ripped across the sky. Elodi looked up, convinced the dome had cracked. ‘I think the pleasantries are done.’ She steadied Sea Mist and cried out. ‘For the Realms!’ Another crack from the storm clouds drowned her words. The cold rain lashed on their heads. The enemy mass ranks advanced.
50. THE FIRE AND FURY
Toryn rode with the six Amayans. Their horses galloped faster than he thought possible. They skimmed across the plain as if flying. But Toryn had little time to admire their agility. The towering black clouds to their right, swelled to such heights they would surely brush the faces of the gods.
Leagues ahead, lightning bolts flashed. Eryn cried out. ‘It begins. Ah! The enemy summon the Reapers.’ She shouted over to Toryn. ‘They’ll strike fear into your forces. We must arrive before all is lost.’ Midnight surged, almost throwing him from her back. The air chilled as the clouds rolled over their heads bringing winter to Ormsk. He fixed his eyes ahead. Eryn assured him they followed the same path as the Amayan host riding to Draegelan’s side centuries earlier. Toryn had to succeed. Eryn and her sisters would boost his strength yet further. With their help, he hoped to reach far back to summon the Verses of the Amayan charge. But the warlocks had to be engaged elsewhere if he had any chance to gain access to the Song. Toryn could only maintain the illusion for minutes at most. But if it worked, it would unsettle their opponents and help turn the battle.
A bright, blue light flashed across the clouds. Eryn roared. ‘Amayan Fire! Lady Harlyn is truly an Amayan.’ She yelled into the wind. ‘Elodi challenges the Reapers! Our sister needs us. Ride on. Ride on.’
◆◆◆
Elodi bawled against the howling wind. ‘Sound the command!’ The trumpeter raised the horn to his lips, but the instrument was wet and his mouth dry. He shook the water free and tried again. The call went up. It sounded weak in the din, but it reached the ears for whom it was intended. The call repeated along the lines. Elodi gripped her reins, willing the fuses to light in the downpour. Across the trench a few sparks flashed in the gloom. The first Ruuk reached the shallow ditch. Her jaw clamped tight. To her left, a cask erupted, quickly followed by three more, then two to her right. Great gouts of mud were flung high, along with many Ruuk, obliterated by the Shreeks’ Rage. Elodi gaped at the destruction, knowing the brave souls lighting the fuses may well have shared the fate of their victims. She bellowed to her trumpeter. ‘Archers!’ His call echoed along the lines. Five hundred arrows streaked over their heads. In the face of the all-out attack, it seemed a paltry response, but every arrow that found a target would mean one less foe to fight. The arrows continued to fly, but as the mud and smoke settled from the blasts, Elodi groaned.
The cask in front had failed to ignite — a grinning Dorlan rode straight at her.
Elodi turned and yelled to Aldorman. ‘We charge. We meet them at speed.’ Her captain gave the command. The remaining Knights of Calerdorn leveled sixty lances and launched their attack. Elodi’s blade burned hot in her hand as she urged Sea Mist towards Dorlan, looming large at the head of the dark horsemen.
The two ranks collided. Steel clashed upon steel, and knights on both sides fell. Dorlan wheeled Draego to drive at Elodi. She thrust out her sword and hurled a blazing bolt at the legend’s chest. But his shield was equal to her attack. Sparks flew as he deflected her strike to take down a knight at Elodi’s side. Sea Mist stumbled in the mud but held his ground. Dorlan swung his great blade. Elodi ducked under a blow that would have removed her head. She pulled back on the reins and sliced at his sword arm. But Draego reared, taking Dorlan out of range. The huge horse kicked. Draego’s iron shod hooves narrowly missed Elodi’s face as Sea Mist swerved. She shot a glance behind. Her knights had the upper hand against Dorlan’s imposters, but as he pulled Draego back to face Elodi, he felled two more with a sweeping blow. He turned and sprang at Elodi. She veered around the bloodied tip of his sword aimed at her throat, then swung back at his neck. But his armor easily resisted her blow. She cried out as her arm jolted as if she had struck a rock.
◆◆◆
Nyomae shut out the dreadful cries of the battle. She was aware of arrows and rocks striking the shields of the First Horse encircling her, but she could not afford to be distracted. She calmed and entered the Song. Her way was clear, but Nyomae was certain the warlocks would come as soon as they sensed her intention. She found the Verse of the possessed Dorlan. His shadowy figure was encircled by a blazing light, defying any to enter; but enter she must. Elodi’s Verse burned bright, but Nyomae feared the Amayan could not sustain her power for long. Behind Dorlan’s form, a darkness laid its claim. It looked as if two giant hands guided him as an entertainer would a marionette. Nyomae saw what she had hoped to find: Dorlan’s true soul was indeed trapped within his body. But his spirit appeared as a dim light, a flickering candle struggling against a breeze, powerless to act. He had the misfortune to witness what he had become, and the shameful acts he was forced to commit. Inside, Dorlan wept.
Nyomae began her journey. She surged back through the Song, passing from verse-to-verse through Dorlan’s long life. The deeper she went, the brighter his entrapped spirit shone. It gave her hope. Nyomae found the Verse she sought and stopped. This was the moment Uluriel had captured him after centuries of serfdom had drained his strength. This was the moment Nyomae had a chance to undo the wrong.
Dorlan stood on a frozen plain in Nordruuk. His tattered clothes offered little protection against the bitter gales. A chain around his scarred neck tethered him to a large metal spike driven deep into the ground. He held a hammer. Before him was a mound of large rocks. Nyomae bit back the anger. The once mighty warrior was now a slave, forced to break stones and build walls for the Ruuk.
She readied herself for the fight to come. Her voice echoed as she spoke his name. Dorlan. But the one word uttered in the Verse, stirred Uluriel, and at once she knew Nyomae’s mind. Uluriel’s worldly form was far to the north. She did not partake in the battle, but what dark art she performed, Nyomae could not tell. But now her hand was forced. Uluriel would have to join the fight.
Her cry penetrated Nyomae’s Verse to alert the warlocks at Roth’s Doom. And they came.
◆◆◆
The piercing screech threw many off their horses. Elodi clung to Sea Mist’s neck as he reared. Dorlan roared as he charged. Elodi braced to meet the attack, but he wheeled Draego and drove at the First Horse protecting Nyomae. She circled her sword over her head. ‘After him!’ She kicked Sea Mist on. Ahead, the great warrior smashed into the line of knights. The three riders who turned to challenge Dorlan were flung from their saddles. But others readily took their fallen comrades place, reforming the shield around Nyomae. Elodi saw her. She stood amid the brawl with her head bowed as if in quiet study in Abernost.
Elodi rushed to the aid of the knights facing Dorlan. He bellowed his scorn, slashing, and jabbing his heavy blade at those in his way. More fell, but others rode at him, ready to sacrifice their lives to guard Nyomae. Elodi delved into her diminishing reserves to summon strength. Deep within she found the fire that burned bright in her race. It kindled once more. She drew it up her spine, into her arm, then launched a bolt through her blade at Dorlan. He swung his shield but was too late to block her strike. It slammed into his chest. He wavered, but as Elodi raised her sword, Dorlan recovered, turned, and aimed a blow at Sea Mist’s neck. She hauled back on the reins. The blade missed, but Elodi was thrown from his back. She slipped in the mud as she clambered to her feet. The freezing rain drove into her face, stinging her eyes as she struggled to find Dorlan.
◆◆◆
The hammer slipped from Dorlan’s grasp as he beheld Nyomae. She revealed what would become of him if he did not aid her. He threw back his head and wailed as he saw his blade strike down knights fighting under the banner bearing his shield. He turned to Nyomae and appeared to recognize her kind. She spoke again. I will free you from this torment. But I need your strength. She gestured behind him. A rider approaches. She will enslave you if we do not act. A shadow sped across the plain. Uluriel of that time had come for Dorlan. But she was not alone. The air above her whirled as if a maelstrom drove her on. Nyomae knew it to be Uluriel’s presence from the north. She had infiltrated Nyomae’s Verse to assist her past self. Nyomae held her fear at bay as the cries of the warlocks from Roth’s Doom drew near. It had to be now. Nyomae took Dorlan’s cold hand. She reached back in his Verse to find him just before the battle at Talaghir. She only needed a remnant of his spirit to bring to this moment. But she needed Dorlan to be ready to accept the gift of his past spirit. Open your mind, Dorlan. I bring you strength.
But part of his broken spirit resisted, wary of the sudden power after the decades of servitude. Uluriel screamed. Defy her, Dorlan! She brings only death. I offer you life.
Nyomae pleaded with him. You have seen what you will become. Trust me, Dorlan, and you will be free.
Dorlan’s gray eyes met hers. Help me, Imaari. I wish to be free. With his consent, his former spirit returned and reclaimed the warrior’s broken body. He threw back his head and cried out. His bent back straightened, his shoulders widened, and his eyes blazed. Dorlan grasped his chains and tore the spike from the ground. He circled it over his head, then lunged and hurled the chain to ensnare Uluriel’s horse. It stumbled, throwing its rider onto the frozen ground. Dorlan took up the hammer and charged at Uluriel. She regained her feet and swirled her arms in the air, desperate to mount a defense. But not in a thousand years of preparation could Uluriel stop the man hurtling towards her. As he ran, he regained his full stature and power, resembling the warrior who had challenged Ormoroth at Talaghir. Uluriel turned and fled.
But the battle was not yet done. Uluriel’s dark form from the present took shape. She stepped out from the churning smoke. Nyomae staggered back. Uluriel’s physical form had entered the Verse. For a moment, Nyomae thought she beheld a Draedalak, a demon of old. Uluriel had grown stronger, and more terrible, following her expulsion from the Archon. But the might of the Dark Verses consumed her mortal form, thus her flesh and bones suffered to wield its most dreadful power.
Uluriel’s mouth gaped wide. Her eyes burned red. She threw out her arms and screamed. The air about her whirled, spinning faster and faster until the Verse itself screeched, pained by the chaos it had to bear. The vortex swelled. Above the dreadful din, Uluriel’s fell voice shrieked, calling on the Evil One to strike down those who dared defy her.
A hand grasped Nyomae’s. Dorlan stood at her side. Together, they held their ground as Uluriel unleashed the tempest. The power of the Elorym ignited in them both. Nyomae shot out her hand. The bolt pierced the gale, tearing it asunder. It struck Uluriel. The air burst, throwing Nyomae and Dorlan from their feet. But Uluriel was gone, expelled from the Verse.
Yet still the danger had not passed. Nyomae spun around to face the two warlocks as they tore through the fabric of the Verse. But Ormoroth’s captains had not foreseen who would stand against them. They hesitated. Before them, the mighty Dorlan of Talaghir, and at his side, a noble Imaari, burning with the blazing light of the Elorym. Not even ten warlocks could defeat them at this time. But Nyomae’s strategy was revealed. As fast as they came, the warlocks withdrew, racing back to Roth’s Doom to exact their revenge.
◆◆◆
Elodi staggered over the fallen. Ahead, Dorlan had stopped. He sat upon Draego, gaping at the knights he had slaughtered. He held up his bloodied sword, then turned to see Elodi. Two knights charged at him. Elodi cried out, bringing them to a skidding halt. Nyomae had done it! Dorlan was free. And he lived. Sea Mist came to Elodi’s aid. She leaped onto his back and drove on to meet Dorlan. His sword arm hung limp by his side. Tears streamed down his face to merge with the icy rain. He stared at the carnage. ‘What have I done? With my own hands I have slain those riding under my banner.’
