“I thought perhaps, better safe than sorry,” said Kiern, passing him a sword. “Just keep it at your side for now. I don’t know what will happen, or if something will happen at all, but you’re still a prisoner and you now have a sword. Don’t draw attention to yourself.”
“One day I have a letter in my hand and am mutilated, the next I’m given a sword by the very same Yalean. Somewhere, someone is making a mockery of my fortunes,” he said while looking over the blade. It had been unsheathed which, was a good thing considering his shattered hand. Kiern ignored his provocation. Rhen did as was suggested and kept it by his side. Perhaps, if this was a trap, the new enemy might be reasonable enough…maybe he could throw his lot in with…No, Reilek was involved.
And then it began. Karrik, walking alongside the cart, was the first to be hit. A throwing axe wedged itself in his left shoulder. The force of the throw sent him crashing into the side of the cart.
The enemy emerged from the hills on both side of the highway. The rain had masked their advance. Rhen was sure that these huge warriors wrapped in leathers and covered in furs would not have been able to sneak up on the Elsgard otherwise. Axes seemed to be their weapon of choice, though by no means their only weapon, he noticed, risking a quick glance at their belts. Slim chance he would fare better with these ones. They’d probably kill him on sight. At least the Yaleans had promised to leave him alive.
They began to rush down the hill on both flanks. Rhen counted four of them on either side. Three were heading towards the cart, where the rest of the party stood, but one from each side was running towards him and Kiern. Rhen turned to his Yalean captor to alert him, but Kiern already had a dagger in each hand. He threw the first one into the back of a tall man that was charging toward Derilen. The man fell face first into the ground yet did not stay down. He roared in pain as he began to stand up, using his axe to steady himself. But Derilen did not waste the chance that he had been given. He lunged forward and thrust his sword down into where the man’s neck met his shoulder. The boulder of a man crumpled up and fell unceremoniously onto the ground. The moment of relief that Rhen felt was brutally shattered when another hand axe came flying and lodged itself in Derilen’s skull. He collapsed on top of the man who still had Derilen’s sword embedded within him. Rhen’s world started to spin as his legs started to give way. He’d never seen someone die like that. Yaren was the first, and as much as it was an unclean death, a death that demanded vengeance, it was not a skull gushing blood from a wound opened by an axe four inches deep death. His world began to twist and contort around him, a mangle of shouts, clashing and confusion. Someone grabbed his shoulders and then slapped him across the face with considerable force.
“Snap out of it!” shouted Kiern.
A body lay barely more than a sword’s length away, a dagger in its throat. So that was where Kiern’s second dagger ended up. That was a sobering enough thought to find his footing. There were two soldiers heading towards them, and only one of them was dead. As Rhen whirled around he found the enemy looking directly at him, his axe and shield at the ready. The only reason why he wasn’t already on them was because of an arrow sticking out of his leg. Rhen chanced a glance to the cart. Bairn was on top with his bow. Karrik had fought on despite several wounds, and two enemies lay dead before him. The last kill had regrettably taken Karrik with him – a sword pinning him to the cart, but the enemy with a dagger in the back of his neck. A dance of death, none the victor.
And then, he saw Reilek, that black bow drawn. He did not need to look to know that it was not aimed at the ambushers. No, he knew that Reilek was the leader of this ambush. And his black bow was pointed directly at the heart of Reisch. He picked up the battered shield of the enemy with his useless hand that Kiern’s dagger had finished off, shoving his arm through the straps, wincing at the pain the weight brought. He ran for Reisch, hoping that Reisch could stall him with words. He jumped over the body that lay before Karrik and ran as far as the shield that came crashing into his ribs. The mud made sure his lost his footing and he fell flat on his back, the wind all but knocked out of him. He momentarily forgot the world consisted of more than just pain but was too late as he came to just in time to see a blonde-haired beast of a man raise an axe over him. He raised his sword in defence, for all the world of good that would do. You had to have hope, he thought. As if in answer, an arrow thudded into the berserker’s neck. He began to fall onto Rhen, but luckily, he managed to roll to the side just in time. He used the shield to steady himself, despite the protests from his hand coursing up through his arm. He gritted his teeth and continued for Reisch.
There was still very much a lively battle taking place, and he was the least adept of anyone present. He paused. How was he going to save Reisch; the commander who fought for a living? He owed Reisch no loyalty. He owed none of the Elsgard a thing. The only person who had treated him with any degree of humanity (however minimal) was Kiern, and he had left him to fight by himself. It was not enough to stop him from switching sides and chance an escape, were the enemy to appear noble enough to help him. That was obviously not the case. No, he needed to get back to Kiern. He dropped the shield begrudgingly, the pain becoming unbearable on his hand. He saw one of the berserkers climbing up on the cart to take down Bairn. He had dropped his shield to assist with climbing. So Rhen slashed around his hamstrings knowing that there was an artery in there somewhere. The man screamed and fell to the ground. He was as good as dead, and Rhen wasn’t going to follow him to the grave. He stayed clear of the still-conscious man knowing that if he was grabbed, there would be nothing stopping a man that size from crushing Rhen before he bled out.
Onward to Kiern. He ran around the cart and looked towards where he heard metal clashing. Yelia have mercy, he thought. Kiern’s left arm was bloodied from the shoulder down and he had more than a few slices across his chest, his tunic in tatters. His opponent, a woman a head taller than he was, didn’t have a single scratch on her.
The enemy that had been hobbling towards Rhen moments earlier had followed Kiern who had engaged the woman on the other side of the cart. He must have run to her when her axe had landed in Derilen’s skull. The hobbling man had caught up and was only a few feet behind Kiern. He would have been aware, but this woman made sure he was fully engaged with her and that chancing a look behind would result in a quick death. The man was too close to Kiern.
Rhen started to sprint towards him, seeing him begin to steady himself and raise his axe. If only he could throw his sword as skilfully as the others. But if he threw it now, he was just as likely to hit Kiern. So, he did the only thing that he could do. He threw himself into the side of the man with all his speed if only to knock him off balance. His sword failed to penetrate the leather armour; not because of the quality of armour, but because it glanced off the man as he threw himself onto him.
Fortunately, he had gathered enough speed to knock the man over, but not before he grabbed Kiern by the back of his tunic. Kiern lost his footing in the mud and fell on top of Rhen, and Rhen lay on top of the man who looked as though he weighed twice as much as both of them combined. Rhen’s left arm was underneath Kiern and though the pain was excruciating, he didn’t have any time to lose in even considering it. He moved his sword hand to try and stab into the man’s armpit, as that was really the only soft spot available with his limited movement. He felt a tremendous force push down on him with a sound of swords clashing. Kiern grunted as his elbow dug into Rhen’s shoulder. He refocussed back to his own opponent. He thrust his sword towards the man’s armpit, but the man grabbed the blade by his hands and wrenched it away from Rhen. With enough of his body free, the man began to punch Rhen’s face with enough force that he could start to feel his grip on consciousness fading. He raised his right arm to defend himself, and the punches stopped coming. He looked up to see the man had wrapped his other hand around Kiern’s neck, and could feel Kiern struggling to free himself whilst also block the swings from this warrior woman. Rhen’
s sword was out of reach, discarded by the man as nothing more than a child’s toy. Then he saw a dagger still on Kiern’s belt.
With all the concentration he could muster, he unsheathed it and thrust it into the man’s heart before he knew what had happened. The man bellowed in pain but Rhen thrust again before he lost his grip from a mix of mud and blood. Rhen collapsed, exhausted. He couldn’t drag himself out from between Kiern and the dead man, and he had no more energy. The rest was up to Kiern.
But there were no more sounds of clashing swords. Oh no, Kiern had stopped moving. He saw his weapon fall from his grip. Rhen found some energy that he didn’t know he had left and pulled himself out from between the two bodies. He dragged himself to his feet and saw the woman properly for the first time. Though she was larger than both of them, her size was complimented by her attire. Compared to the Yaleans who wore nothing but their long black tunics, she wore a collection of dark leather garments augmented with warm furs. Her furs were not all encompassing, instead being woven into the leather around the top of her boots, gloves, and shoulders. Though this gave the appearance of her armour being rag-tag assortment of looted ensemble, her armour clung to her body in a way that suggested it was fitted specifically for her. Her lower body was not only covered by the leather armour that captured a sense of beauty, but with two daggers, and a sword at the back. But she clearly favoured the axe that she had raised above her head. She smiled. Just before she claimed her victory, an arrow flew by, missing Kiern by inches. She stopped to look where it came from, and so did Rhen, peering through the bodies.
“That confirms it. I never miss,” said the man with the black bow, “and you will not stop it a second time, not from this close. It’s nothing personal.”
Rhen looked up in time to catch a glimpse at that black bow firing the arrow straight at Reisch. He closed his eyes in anticipation of the sound of arrow tip piercing flesh, but it did not come. He cautiously opened his eyes, to find the arrow had stopped, mid-air in the rain, mere inches from Reisch’s heart. Then the arrow began to turn towards Reilek.
“No, I didn’t think it was. But now it is.” And Reisch commanded the arrow to fly straight for Reilek who had apparently thrown himself behind the cover of a large tree the moment his arrow had stopped before his intended target. The arrow flew past the tree, before curving upwards and coming from behind Reilek. Rhen only knew the arrow hit Reilek because of the scream that ensued. Whatever in Yelia’s graces just happened, he would have to contemplate later.
“Elt e Magick voz nyt?!” the wild woman roared towards Reisch, before turning back to Kiern, who was still lying on top of him, moving sluggishly. She remembered what she was doing before she was interrupted and raised her axe again. This time, she swung down, but before her axe split Kiern, it stopped mid-air, refusing to go down any further. She yelled out in anger, “Nyr!”, and turned back to the likely culprit. Rhen followed her gaze, and saw Reisch who had his arms open wide, his own face under some strain.
And then, with a quick motion of his hand, he propelled the woman against the cart, knocking her unconscious. Her axe dropped to the ground. Rhen fainted.
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You defied our order, you risked war with the full might of Karzark, possibly escalating to include the slumbering Taeryen at our borders. Your actions achieved nothing with the exception of the possibility of igniting war. Consider yourself lucky that was not the case. Let it be known to the world, including Karzark, that yourself and all of the members of the Elsgard shall hereby be banished from Yalea Aranth until the end of your days. You are no longer are in service of, or are to receive support from Yalaea Aranth.
Not officially.
Hearing of Commander Reisch Elestan of the Elsgard
Kiern
“We are not safe here,” said the Commander to no one in particular, as he wiped the blood from his nose. They had found where Reilek and his ambushers had killed the Elsgard that had travelled with them. They had been left in the elements but were far enough off the main road that no one had come across their bodies, or if they had, were too scared (or smart) enough to report it.
“Shall we burn the bodies, Commander?” asked a bloodied Bairn, a gash down his cheek. The blood that trickled down his face had dried and now looked like war paint. Reisch looked over to Rhen, still unconscious but propped up against the cart. It was the second time he had dealt with an unconscious Rhen, but he was kinder this time in extending the courtesy, making sure Rhen wouldn’t fall onto his shattered hand.
“Burn Karrik, Derilen, and the Elsgard that travelled with Reilek. Leave the others. It might work to our advantage. Karzark might be accused of killing Taeryen soldiers.” Bairn nodded then left to gather the bodies of the soldiers. Taeryen? What were the Taeryen doing here? Why after centuries of no contact did he feel that the world was coalescing in Euparyen?
The Commander did not seem surprised, so Kiern didn’t show his own. Instead he voiced his doubts. “They could just as easily pin it on the Sons.”
The Commander turned to Kiern. “That is true. However, if the Sons were accused of this by local Khasari, and word spreads that Taeryen soldiers were found in the Euphyrian Territories, it would be a slight on Karzark. It would be as concerning to them as it is us in finding that Taeryen has crossed into Euparyen. For what purpose? If it spreads amongst the Khasari before the High Command receive word, they’d either be forced to do nothing and lose face or be compelled to act against Taeryen. Either of these would suit us fine.”
Turning a bad situation around and moulding it into something good. There was a reason Reisch Elestan was Commander of the Elsgard. Kiern, well, he had the ability to erase a bad situation, to make it one that never existed. But he still lacked that extra step, and then some. But what in Yelia’s name had Reisch done to that girl? “Uh, sir-”
“Not now, Kiern. Do not mention it in present company. At Rulven, perhaps.”
“Sir.” At least there’d be an explanation. Just what was that? He was only coming to when he saw her thrown against the cart by nothing but air.
“Commander Reisch,” said Bairn, running back, “Reilek is gone. There is a bloody trail. We could follow it.”
“No. Let him go. He’s shown enough of his true colours today. Follow him, and there might be another trap waiting. When this one comes to, we can find out something about Reilek’s purpose,” he said, nodding in the captive’s direction.
Ah, the captive. Bairn had been extra careful in removing all the weapons she had on her person. It was quite impressive really. A walking arsenal of daggers (including one of Mardun’s), short swords, a knife, the hand axe that had been removed from Derilen’s skull, and a large engraved axe that Kiern remembered well. Bairn had also bound her hands and feet painfully tight. Kiern felt a pang of sympathy for her momentarily, before remembering that if it wasn’t for Reisch, her axe would be nestled in his skull right about now.
Kiern looked over to Rhen who had begun to stir. He extended a hand to help him up, which Rhen gratefully accepted. Rhen looked around and saw the bodies of Karrik and Derilen lying on top of a pile of wood and kindling that Bairn had already gathered. He began walking over to them with a horrified look on his face, but Kiern stopped him, and softly added, “Don’t.” Instead, Rhen turned his attention to the woman. He noticed all her weapons laid out in front of her and looked them over, as if searching for something. Suddenly he knelt over the woman and put his hand down her top.
Shocked, Kiern shouted, “Hey! What in Yelia’s name do you think you’re doing?” but Rhen’s hand came out with a small, concealed knife.
“Tallesen is a merchant house. We sell more than just wine. I know a thing or two about clothing. Look at the creases in the leather here. Something was pressed up against it underneath. It wasn’t creased anywhere else.”
“That could have been anything!”
“Exactly! It was a knife, you daft Yalean! You know, the sharp pointy t
hing you could use in case you are captured and don’t plan on being interrogated?” He threw the knife on the pile of weapons and added, “Idiot.” Now that there was no immediate threat, Rhen had regained some confidence. Kiern let it slide in the name of better relations. He was also impressed, but he still felt bad for the woman. That was until he remembered how close to death he had come.
“You certainly had no reserve. I thought you would have been a little more hesitant.”
“Maybe I should have. Maybe I could have plead my case to her after she killed you all that I am not one of you and see how merciful she is. Perhaps she would take pity on a fellow heathen. Anyway, it looked like there was something there, and there was, so, good. You’re welcome,” the blushing Rhen managed to say.
“Come, we can’t stay here any longer. We need to get to Rulven and notify Farrel. Put her in the cart and you can ask questions on the way,” said the Commander who picked up on Kiern’s reserve wearing thin at Rhen’s aggression. Night was creeping up on them and the temperature began its nightly drop.
“Karz- Rhen, I think you should walk. Keep moving, it’s going to be a cold one,” he said, as he gently picked up death incarnate and put her in the cart. He was more cautious than gentle, for he didn’t want to wake her and find that he had overestimated Rhen’s confidence in completely disarming her. He sat in the cart with the Taeryen, keeping a close eye on her.
She began to stir shortly after they began moving. Kiern drew his sword and put it over his lap, kindly informing her it was now him in control of the situation.
“Evening.”
“Kill me.” She looked at her surroundings quickly before casting her gaze out into the quickly setting night. Kiern knew that cursory glance failed to find an escape plan.
Reign of Phyre Page 10
