The Weapon Takers Saga Box Set

by Jamie Edmundson

  Belwynn steeled herself to enter the main chamber of the temple, which just two days before had held the funeral service for Elana.

  I’m not sure I can do this, she said to Madria, the new voice in her head.

  You have a unique gift, Belwynn, Madria replied, the thought appearing in Belwynn’s mind rather than the words themselves. It is time you used it to its full potential.

  The heads of Elana’s congregation turned to look at her as she followed Bemus up the central aisle. Some smiled supportively; some didn’t. She was known to most as Elana’s second disciple, the organiser who used to decide which patient had priority. To others she was the Lady of the Knights, the woman who lived up at the castle. These people had idolised Elana, followed her every word. Belwynn wasn’t sure what they thought of her. Or how they would react when she tried to claim leadership of the movement.

  Bemus said a few words, his voice a comforting drone. The man already thought of himself as the new leader, she knew. Not that he saw her as an enemy—just less equipped to lead than he was.

  Bemus retired to a seat on the front pew. All eyes turned to Belwynn.

  She thought of her gift, then, as she prepared herself to use it once more. Her telepathy. She had been able to speak with Soren like that since they were very young—neither could recall exactly how or when it had started. Belwynn had always assumed it was because Soren could do magic. That it was because of him. Then she thought of her singing, how she could use it to connect with and touch an audience, sending them into a collective stupor. What if the telepathy and the singing were, in fact, the same thing? What if her ability to speak to Soren’s mind was down to her, not him?

  She looked out at Elana’s flock and a feeling of serenity descended on her.

  ‘I bring a message from Madria,’ she said, projecting her voice to the very back of the chamber.

  She was met with a range of expressions. Surprise. Doubt. Scorn.

  She concentrated.

  It’s just the same as singing, Belwynn, she told herself.

  I bring a message from Madria, she said.

  Gasps of fear and shock filled the chamber. People looked at one another, desperate to know whether they had shared the same experience.

  Belwynn’s voice in their head.

  Bemus slipped from his pew to his knees, his long body crumpling.

  ‘Tell us her message!’ he pleaded.

  21

  Revenge

  THERON SAYS WE NEED TO FIGHT them now, Belwynn said to Soren.

  Despite trying to explain to him how much the situation in Kalinth had changed, Soren didn’t seem to fully understand. He counselled her against hasty decisions, asking her to stay where she was.

  We have the bow now, he said again. We’ll be there in a matter of days.

  Get here as soon as you can, she asked him. We’re leaving today. We can’t afford to wait and let them grow any stronger.

  Alright, said Soren, sounding disappointed that he hadn’t dissuaded her, anxious about her claims that she was in communication with Madria. We’ll get there as soon as we can. Look after yourself.

  Barely a soul remained in Heractus, as the army assembled in the fields outside the city walls. Belwynn had emptied the city, recruiting its people to her cause using her gift of telepathy, magnified by Madria’s power. Already believers, thanks to Elana’s work, they now submitted themselves to Belwynn’s instructions, who told them that this was a battle that simply had to be won.

  The Temple of Madria had been left in the hands of those too aged or too young to join the army. Much to the girl’s disappointment, Lyssa was amongst them. She had tried to persuade Belwynn how useful she would be to the army, but Belwynn had put her foot down. She couldn’t afford to worry about the girl’s whereabouts on top of everything else. Men, women, and those not old enough to be called either, were now ready to fight and die for this cause. Madria told Belwynn that it was necessary, that there was no guilt; no sin involved. Belwynn wanted to believe that.

  Theron was grateful, for she had solved his ever-present problem, the lack of an infantry force. He led the cavalry part of the army, the Order of the Knights of Kalinth, or at least those knights who had chosen him over Galenos.

  More soldiers had come in from the countryside to swell their force. Theron’s estates in Erisina had been stripped of men of fighting age; likewise Sebastian’s estate of Melion, which Theron had now inherited from his uncle. Theron’s friend Tycho, the new owner of the estate of the traitor, Count Ampelios, had arrived back only yesterday, after raising a force from his new lands. Finally, Leontios, the young knight who had been tasked with defending the eastern border out of Korkis, had been recalled with his forces.

  It was desperate times, the country left completely undefended. If the Kharovians or Drobax should descend from the north, they would find no-one to halt their passage to Heractus. Belwynn had asked Theron whether it would have been better to wait behind the walls of Heractus and see whether Straton’s army materialised, but Theron had ruled that out. His knights needed to fight out in the open. He had described a scenario where they were stuck in the city, the rest of Kalinth taken by their enemies, starving and forced to eat their horses for food. The image had done its job of persuading her that they needed a battle.

  So they marched for the south-west of the country. Philon returned to the army to pass on the information that his scouts had collected. Reports said the enemy army was led by the princes, Straton and Dorian. They could only assume that Dorian was the creature that had killed Elana and Sebastian. Many noblemen had flocked to the banner of the two young men, responding to their claims to leadership of Kalinth, their accusations against Theron, and the opportunity for advancement if they were successful. Galenos, formerly a prisoner at the High Tower, had allied with them, and many knights had chosen to fight with him. Diodorus, the Count of Korenandi, had added his soldiers as well, despite having fought with Theron only three weeks past. The enemy were growing in size, and this only reinforced Theron’s view that they needed to deal with them immediately. Hanging over their heads was the fear that they may soon face an even greater threat. The Isharites could turn their attention to Kalinth. If they were to stand any chance, they had to avoid further civil war.

  They marched hard all day, not stopping until they had crossed the Pineos. This part of the country was controlled by their enemies, and Belwynn could sense tensions rising as Theron gave orders to make camp, ensuring that sufficient knights were put on watch to give them warning of an attack.

  Without realising what she was doing, Belwynn found herself walking off the path, until she came to a flat piece of rock by the river. She placed a palm on its surface as tears came to her eyes.

  She had come upon this rock once before, when another army of knights had marched from the High Tower to Heractus. She had sat here in the sunshine with Elana and Dirk, as the priestess had healed her first disciple. A group of young knights, led by Philon and Leontios, had approached and asked her to bless their swords. Elana and Dirk were both gone now. She would have to sit here alone.

  When she sat down she saw a figure making its way from the camp to her location.

  ‘I thought I might find you here.’

  Theron took a seat next to her and they sat together in silence for a while.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ she said at last.

  ‘Lots of things. Maybe I’ve made a terrible mistake. Would Kalinth be better off if I hadn’t started all this?’

  ‘No. We freed Soren. Moneva killed Erkindrix. They’ve got the Jalakh Bow. The Isharites will be defeated. Thanks to you.’

  Theron smiled. ‘Thank you. I needed to hear that.’ He tapped his scabbard. ‘I seem to remember the Lady of the Knights giving out blessings here. Maybe she could bless this poor knight’s sword? I think I will need to use it tomorrow.’

  ‘Of course. But you think we will fight them tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes. Neither of us will gi
ve ground. There’s an inevitability to it now.’

  ‘You need to tell me what you want Madria’s soldiers to do. And there’s something else.’

  Theron looked at her, one eyebrow rising inquisitively.

  Belwynn stared into his eyes.

  Can you hear me? She asked him.

  Theron’s eyes widened. He frowned, concentrating.

  Yes, he replied.

  Belwynn smiled with pleasure. Although she could now communicate telepathically with Madria’s servants, none of them could talk back to her. But somehow, she had known that Theron would be able to.

  ‘Good,’ she said out loud. ‘When the battle starts tomorrow, you can tell me what to do.’

  Soren! Belwynn tried one last time.

  Where the hell was he? Surely he wasn’t still asleep at this hour! Had something happened to him?

  She couldn’t know, and she had to put it out of her mind. Because the enemy had been sighted, and it was time to fight.

  From her location behind the army, Belwynn ordered Madria’s followers to their position. They marched, the flags showing the Winged Horse of Kalinth rippling in the breeze. They were to be the centre of the army, and they must not break. She communicated with them, reassuring them that whatever happened today, they had Madria’s grace.

  On either side came the rest of those who would fight on foot, men drawn from the estates owned by Theron and Tycho. Some were trained—some were even former knights. But most had never fought before.

  The elite fighters were the knights, who were all on horseback. Theron led the right flank, Tycho the left. Leontios had been given another rapid promotion, leading the small force of reserves. Evander, one of the newest knights, would fight at Theron’s side.

  Move them forward fifty paces, Theron said to Belwynn from his position on the battlefield.

  Their ability to communicate gave Theron an advantage in managing all these disparate forces.

  Forwards, Belwynn relayed to her followers, and the Madrians walked in a disciplined line, gripping their spears, matching each other’s stride, until Belwynn called a halt. The leaders of the other infantry units had orders to follow the Madrians, and they now marched, stopping once they had drawn level.

  Those with the best eyes pointed ahead. They could see the enemy army. Belwynn peered ahead, just about making out shapes moving on the horizon—the enemy units getting into formation.

  How many? She asked Theron.

  Less than we have.

  It was what they had hoped. The Madrians gave them an advantage in numbers. And in the end, more knights had sided with Theron than with Galenos.

  Theron ordered them to advance another fifty paces, then he declared himself satisfied, waiting to see what the enemy would do. What they did came as a surprise. A small group on horseback detached themselves from the army, carrying the white flag of parley.

  What is there to talk about? Theron asked her suspiciously.

  The group stopped at the midway point between the two armies and waited.

  Well? Belwynn asked Theron.

  Well I suppose I will speak to them.

  Me too, she demanded.

  Alright, he said, in a resigned way.

  Belwynn asked Leontios for a horse, while she told the Madrians to rest and meditate.

  She climbed into the saddle and rode ahead, passing between the units of infantry.

  Theron and Evander appeared from the right flank of the army, Tycho from the left. They trotted their horses towards the middle of the field.

  Waiting for them were five figures. The soldier holding the flag she didn’t recognise, but she knew the others. Diodorus, puffy-eyed and sad looking, sat his horse a few yards away from the others, as if he didn’t want to be there. And so he should, thought Belwynn. Galenos and Belwynn had never exactly met, but they had once shared a look in the Great Hall of the Knights, at the High Tower, as she roused his order against him. He grinned at them now, seemingly confident about the revenge he would get for what they did to him that day. Finally, the two brothers, Straton and Dorian. Except they weren’t brothers, for surely Dorian was dead, his body inhabited by the same monster that had killed Elana.

  ‘You’ve got a bigger army than you did last time,’ Straton said to Theron conversationally when they drew up. ‘Where are they all from? There can’t be many soldiers there.’

  ‘They’re loyal Kalinthians,’ said Theron, ‘prepared to fight our enemies even if you have chosen to fight alongside them.’

  Diodorus had the grace to look to the ground at that comment, but the others didn’t. Straton gave a light smile, looking away, somewhere into the distance.

  ‘Loyalty?’ retorted Galenos, his voice high-pitched and hysterical sounding. ‘You have the gall to sit there and lecture us on loyalty? Oh, I will enjoy your humiliation today. Very much.’

  ‘Have you asked us here to trade worthless insults?’ Tycho said angrily. ‘What does your leader say?’ he added, gesturing at Dorian. ‘The monster that inhabits the bodies of its victims! What kind of creature do you take your orders from?’

  ‘It is time I introduced myself to you,’ said Dorian. At least, it spoke with Dorian’s voice, but it was clear to Belwynn that it wasn’t really him. ‘I am Siavash, Lord of the Ishari. I have come at the bidding of Diis, my master. When I visited in Heractus, I killed the leader of the Knights and I killed Madria’s champion. My armies have conquered the Krykkers of Dalriya. The fleet of the Sea Caladri is destroyed. As I speak, our armies descend on the Brasingian Empire, on our remaining enemies in Halvia. The war is over. I have brought you here to make it clear to you that your continued resistance is pointless. If your people lay down their arms, they are free to return to their homes. Kalinth will be incorporated into the Isharite Empire. Straton will rule as king. I will not seek vengeance or pursue vendettas. If you choose to fight, all you will achieve is the slaughter of Kalinthians.’

  Siavash? The man who had replaced Erkindrix? Belwynn wondered at it. She wondered why he would risk coming to Kalinth alone, albeit he had succeeded so far.

  Tycho was one step ahead of her. He urged his mount forwards, drawing his sword as he did, before shoving the sharp end of the blade into Dorian’s chest.

  Siavash cackled. He grabbed the blade, pulling it out. No blood came with it.

  ‘You cannot kill what is already dead,’ he explained simply.

  ‘You strike under a white flag?’ Galenos demanded, looking outraged.

  ‘I strike a demon!’ Tycho retorted.

  ‘Enough,’ said Theron. ‘We did not come here to surrender. Your revelations change nothing, except to make us more determined to defeat you today,’ he said, pulling at his horse’s reins, turning away from them.

  ‘I will let you live,’ said Straton quietly. ‘I will rule justly. Theron, we have no real choice in this. Don’t kill our people without reason.’

  Theron ignored him, moving off. Belwynn glanced surreptitiously at Siavash, before following him. The Lord of Ishari had killed Elana, Madria’s champion. Did he suspect that Madria had chosen a new one? It didn’t seem so.

  They rode back to their lines.

  ‘It changes nothing,’ Theron insisted.

  None of them disagreed. But now they knew that it was Siavash who somehow resided in Dorian’s body. And that he couldn’t be killed.

  Soren! Belwynn called with desperation.

  But Soren didn’t answer.

  I’m not waiting any longer, Theron declared.

  Trumpets blared across the battlefield. The Knights on each side of the army began to move forwards. They were the best fighters, the ones who could win the battle for them. Straton’s army, inferior, held their position on higher ground, waiting for them to come.

  Belwynn knew enough about battles, mainly from listening to Clarin’s stories, to know that Straton’s army would have dug in, prepared unpleasant traps and other surprises for the horses. They would defend, and somewhere the knights u
nder Galenos would be waiting, ready to counter-attack.

  The Knights picked up speed, streaming away from their lines. There was a nervous energy amongst those left behind, who had to wait for their turn to fight.

  Like so many others, Belwynn peered ahead, fruitlessly trying to make out what was happening, to see whether the two sides had engaged yet. Theron had told her, in no uncertain terms, that she must stay with the reserves, and give out her orders from there. A small, basic tower had been constructed here, giving Belwynn and Leontios something of a view over the battlefield. It was enough for Belwynn to oversee her unit of Madrians. For Leontios, it would help him to decide when and where his small force should intervene.

  We’ve engaged, Theron finally told her. They’ve dug in. It’s hard to get to them.

  Belwynn passed the message on to Leontios. The young man nodded coolly enough, but Belwynn had some idea how difficult it was for him to wait it out while his brothers were fighting.

  Belwynn! It came as a shout, Belwynn shocked by Theron’s voice echoing around her head. We’re in retreat! Tell Leontios! You need to move the infantry forwards to cover us!

  ‘Leontios, they’re retreating back here, I think he wants you to help, I—’ Belwynn paused, as Theron passed on more information. She went cold, her mouth opening and closing in mute shock.

  ‘What is it?’ Leontios demanded, his face full of concern at her reaction.

  ‘Theron says it’s the Drobax. The Drobax are here.’

  March! Belwynn ordered the Madrians. There are Drobax coming! Be prepared!

  What kind of affect her words had on them, she could only guess. But they did as she ordered, moving forwards in close formation. The other infantry units began to follow. Belwynn couldn’t warn them. She tried to reach out with her mind to them, but there was no connection that she could use. They were unknowingly walking into a Drobax horde coming for them, and she doubted whether they would hold out for long.

  Leontios took his mounted reserves to the left, swinging around the infantry units, whereupon he would lead them into the Drobax coming their way, trying to give the rest of the Knights time to retreat and regroup. He had insisted on leaving someone behind with Belwynn, and so Philon stayed with her on the tower, watching his friend ride away into battle.