Nothing would change no matter how much his heart constricted. The one thing he found strange was the Human presence. Why were they here? No one knew about the tower but for Raziel’s people, and there was no time for anyone to get there and raise an army in such short notice. No, they must have been preparing to invade someone or repel an attacker.
“We won’t make it in time,” a voice in his head whispered, chuckled, and then laughed.
“Shut up! I won’t let you fuck with me! Not this time!” Grestal snapped. He didn’t use his mouth or the others would think him a freak, no, he snapped at the voice in his mind using—his mind. It had been a couple of days since it started speaking to him, and he still had no idea who or what it belonged to other than that it was vile and nasty.
“You have no idea how to even approach the enemy, now do you? You’ll just charge with the soldiers your master gave right into the oncoming enemy, won’t you?”
“Shut up! I’m trying to think you damn bastard!”
“You? Think?” The voice laughed again, booming in his mind. “Wielding a big sword doesn’t mean you know how to use it efficiently. Now, you have me for that matter. I’ll be your strategist, just as I told you when we met.”
He thought back on the moment they ‘met’ during the battle of Newfolk. Raziel just killed that bastard Vampire and Grestal joined him, but something seemed to call for him; the dagger around Crozan’s waist. He leaned down and picked it up, but the blade extended and drew some of his blood. The voice had been present ever since, torturing him even when asleep.
“What do you propose?” he finally asked, giving in to the malevolent voice.
“Ahh! Finally! Now, I’ll make it quick since we’ll be there soon. When they pass the Vampires, cut their army in half, or even into two thirds by passing right through their flank.”
“Right, I see. We separate them in groups so our numbers don’t mean as much. I got it.”
“Good boy. Now do your job and keep us alive so we can hang around for a while longer, alright?” the voice whispered. It was laced with malicious intent, that much was sure.
“Do you think we can take half?” Grestal asked as the group of Cavalry was just about to crash into Dimas’ formation.
“Why not? We’re stronger and smarter. Besides, those Vampires are mean and strong, trust me. I can feel it”
A sudden shriek pierced the air. Rows of horses dropped and were trampled by the cavalry behind them. Only the fourth row managed to veer off far enough to avoid those beneath their hooves. Grestal’s heart started thumping in his chest as the two wings of riders finally met Dimas and his Coven.
“Move it! Hurry up!” Grestal roared as he finally had enough, spurting his horse on to move faster. The soldiers followed his example and tried to keep up with their temporary leader.
The horses were enhanced by injecting Vampire blood into their systems so they could take both the load and speed. Their stamina was also greatly enhanced beyond what any other horse could do. Their skin was tougher and unless the weapon was sharp or extremely heavy, they wouldn’t be able to kill them as easily.
The terrain had been Grestals’ greatest enemy during this sprint. Too much rock and large heaps of stone and not enough flat land was the reason why they were late to the party. At least they were almost within striking distance. He grinned as his right hand moved to the hilt of his sword that hung from his back.
To his surprise, the Vampire formation held their ground and despite the battering, not a single one of them was killed. The tide of enemy cavalry was a sight to behold, but what made him grin with respect was Dimas who stood at the front, holding two massive shields and deflecting blow after blow.
The lances and spears finally flashed, piercing horse and man alike, killing them on spot or wounding them heavily. More than one horse dropped and made a mess out of those who came rushing in from behind.
Then he spotted them, the Elves. One moment they were invisible and the other they were hunched behind the Vampire wall. The one on the left, which looked like Sylvana to him, peeked over the formation, and dropped down again, placed her hands against the soil and waited as her sister did the same. But nothing happened. A good third of the enemy cavalry had passed by and were slowing down to the point they could almost turn and crash into them from behind.
“Not on my watch!” Grestal growled as he let out a second cry and finally pulled the sword out from its sheath. A sudden flaming inferno erupted from both sides of the Vampire formation, showing the enemy what Hell really was like.
Two scores of the enemy cavalry was caught inside the flames while even more charged right in, not able to stop. Skin and flesh melted as if it was nothing, the metal components of their armors and the armor itself shattered or grew one with the men. The horses cried out in equal measure with their riders as they transformed into lumps of bone and steel.
Then it finally happened, the thing that could fuck everything up. One of the horses jumped over the wall of shields and trampled one of the Vampires, pulling even a second one with them. Their shrieks sent shivers down Grestal’s back. He knew Dimas was going to be pissed and want to vent his anger. That was something he could help with.
The wall of steel and dying men halted the remaining horses in their tracks. They wouldn’t even come near the flames. That’s when Dimas finally lost it as he threw down both shields and snapped the claws into place. His deafening war cry could be heard and felt across the battlefield, chilling lesser men to the bone.
The horse under Grestal slowed almost to a halt at the sound of Dimas’ pain and suffering. It shook its head and started running again, veering off to the side and was followed by all the other horses. Grestal could hear his soldiers protest, but it didn’t matter. This was a thing he was familiar with, the horses combining their minds into one and deciding in unison with their riders how to attack.
Dimas’ Coven followed suit, discarding their lances, spears, and shields as they launched themselves over the flames and started ripping into the enemy horses and riders alike. Their ferocity was something one would have to witness in order to feel what fear was. Real fear.
The enemy soldiers who managed to pass the formation earlier finally started turning and were lining up to make a second charge and attack the Vampires and Elves from behind, but then it was finally his time to shine. Too late did they notice that there wouldn’t be a chance in hell they’d be able to outrun Grestal’s troops.
“Kill them all! Show them what death is all about!”
Grestal’s strong voice carried far enough for his soldiers to take up and start screaming and letting out sounds a normal person wasn’t able to. The last hundred feet were a blur as he struggled to get up on the horses back, place both hands around the hilt, and launch himself at the enemy. The massive sword cut through two horses and their riders with ease as Grestal landed in their midst, lunged and got up on his horse again.
Two hundred blood-infused cavalry finally laid into the waste of what was now a disoriented mob. The enemy was already demoralized and beaten badly, which only became worse as Grestal’s men plunged right through them, sending less than half of what remained into disarray. Riders started to trickle away and run, but they were struck down by lightning bolts or icicle shards, even javelins. Grestal finally stopped swinging his sword as the enemy was no more, only to realize that the sisters were much more formidable than he had given them credit for. They really packed a punch no matter how you looked at them.
“What foul play is this?” a man near Sylvana cried as he held off Anya’s flurry of attacks. Sylvana jumped atop his horse and plunged her daggers in from both sides, cutting both arms off under the armpits and slicing his neck in a fluid motion. Anya caught his head before it struck the ground and drank what little blood remained.
Hundreds of cries and screams finally died out as the enemy lay dead or dying. Grestal ordered retreat quarter of a mile away from the carnage, afraid Dimas’ bloodlust might t
ake over and attack his men by accident. He turned around and checked on his troops. They more or less seemed intact and well, all but for a dozen of unlucky ones who were either cut down from behind or were too careless. A total of a hundred-ninety-two remained.
The Vampires dropped to their knees and started weeping as Dimas picked the two children that belonged to his Coven up and embraced them. He walked off away toward the tower’s entrance and laid them down on the stone slabs before he turned his head to me and closed the distance between us in three leaps.
The young Hybrid dropped from the horse and knelt in front of the Elder Vampire, bowing his head slightly. The troops followed suit and did the same. Dimas, however, offered his hand to the Grestal and pulled him up to his feet.
“It was a wise choice to attack them from behind, separating the Human forces in two. I’ll commend you to Raziel once he arrives with the remaining army. If you had taken the arc you first came at, we would have ended up fighting each other as it was too straight.”
Grestal looked away, not able to meet Dimas's gaze from embarrassment.
“I—didn’t choose the direction. The horses chose to do that by themselves,” he explained apologetically. Dimas looked at him funnily but then burst out in laughter.
“You have an interesting master, my young friend,” Dimas said as he slapped Grestal on his back. “An interesting master indeed.”
Grestal stood there, not quite able to understand what Dimas was going at.
“What he means is that your Lord Raziel steered the horses on another course. Look over there to the East,” the voice chuckled in his mind. Realization finally dawned on him as he understood that Raziel was the one who did it. The corners of his lips turned up in a slight smile. What a man, no Vampire. But whatever he was, Raziel was one to show up on time and care about his people. That was a given.
“Master Dimas, there’s one thing I’ve noticed, however. You seemed to spare most of the horses while engaged in battle. They now belong to your Coven. I’m sure Lord Raziel will approve,” Grestal said. Dimas chuckled.
“He would, there’s no doubt about it. Even though they belong to me now, there’s not much we can do with them but drain their blood. More about them later. As for now, I’ll need you to put your men under my command so we can start preparing our defenses.”
“Of course, Master Dimas. Also, please accept my condolences. I saw how the two—died earlier.”
He shrugged and looked away.
“Death is inevitable, even if you’re immortal.” He was trying to sound cool and composed, but Grestal knew better. The loss of a child, partner, friend, or even comrade hurt, even more, someone who had been with you for centuries.
“You’re right,” he replied and turned to his troops. “I’m placing all of you under Lord Dimas’ command! You better do what he says or I’ll rip you a new one!”
The soldiers remained quiet but he knew they would follow the orders. After all, Raziel said as much so all he had to do was just to repeat the order.
“We need to form a wall to this side to prevent any more charges,” he said, pointing his long finger at the eastern approach. “We’ll gather all the smaller molten clumps of metal and scatter them around, while the larger chunks will be used to set up a sort of makeshift barricade. It should prevent anyone from making another charge as easily.”
“Yes, Master Dimas!” they replied as one and were about to move, but he put his hands up to stop them. “My family will take care of the trees over there,” he pointed down south at the nearest patch of forest. “We’ll cut down the logs and bring them over here to reinforce the wall and set up spikes along with a couple more traps,” Dimas explained.
“As you wish, Master Dimas,” Grestal replied as he placed the sword in his scabbard and left it with the horse.
Dimas seemed pleased as he stood atop the ramp that led to the entrance of the tower along with Anya.
“Was it worth it?” she whispered as he held her in his arms.
“It was. Or I hope it was,” he whispered in response. “Two lives for all this? What if we manage to finally get our hands on what we’ve been searching for all this time? Sacrificing twenty more would be a price I’d be willing to pay.”
She pushed out of his embrace and narrowed her eyes on his.
“Don’t talk like that! Every one of them has been with us for at least a century. How can you still be so cold?”
“I’m not cold, my love. But you need to understand our priorities. Lefrand needs to die, and I need to take back what was rightfully mine.”
“You mean ours,” she added quickly and leaned back into his arms. He nodded as his lips curled up and enormous fangs showed, blood still clinging to them.
Chapter Forty
I knelt on one of the closest trees overseeing the Stheralian army. Now there was a face I didn’t think I’d see ever again. We had a brief skirmish when they tried to probe our lands but were beaten back badly. His name was Mervan, one of their most beloved Generals. It was a strange thing how this came to be today. Almost as if someone had set us up.
He halted his army the moment the battle began. I could see and feel his rage build up with every single moment that passed. First, there was the debacle of his cavalry falling off their horses and getting trampled, then the flaming inferno that engulfed his men and didn’t even leave enough for a burial. It was a total defeat for them.
“This is unheard of!” Mervan bellowed as he jumped off his horse and stomped forward angrily as if that would allow him to see any better. “How dare they mock me, Mervan the Black?”
The nickname was earned a long time ago when he was still young during the Crusade as they called it. Most people thought he had gotten the name because of his dark skin, but no, I knew better. I was even there on the sidelines. Most of the Vampire lords were actually when the Humans fought it out between themselves. Religious zealots.
By no means was the man old, but the best years were slowly passing by despite his build. It was obvious he worked himself to the bone to stay in shape. Just the armor that covered his body looked much heavier than what the rest wore.
The neighing of his horse brought the man back to the issue at hand. He had seemed lost in thought for a moment, and that wasn’t the smartest thing to do during a battle. An unwise move and some bad luck on his part had cost him half of his total cavalry. What would his King say if he lost even more?
I chuckled to myself, thinking about all my previous battles. The fear of going back and telling Lefrand about the losses had my guts twisted in a knot every time. But not anymore. Now it was me knotting other people’s guts.
“What the hell are we supposed to do now?” he growled, slamming his fists against one another over again. I could have answered the question for him if I was a little closer, but I didn’t feel like yelling. It might startle him. I could see the desperation on his face. The man’s short, black hair was slick with sweat and his lips trembled slightly. He was both furious and afraid. This was something he hadn’t gone through for a long time, I was sure. Humans usually didn’t wage battles they couldn’t win. If it weren’t for the sisters they would have won, there’s no doubt about it, but unfortunately for them, it wasn’t meant to be.
I made the decision for him as I got off the tree and jumped atop my horse, spurring it on to where he was pacing around and fuming. Mervan's eyes opened wide when he finally noticed me and my pitch-black, spiked armor and red cape fluttering in the wind. The horse I rode was easily twenty-inch taller than any other horse anyone had ever seen. It was one of the few things that were as precious as my own life.
“Are you—Lord Raziel?” he asked as I stopped in front of him. Hundreds of lancers, swordsmen, and archers hurriedly rushed forward and arrayed in a crescent formation around Mervan. They stood there glaring menacingly. I made an effort to scan the crowd and pulled my helmet off, revealing my face and sharp fangs.
“Long time no see, Mervan,” I said, grin
ning like a predator. He gulped before putting his arm up and waving them off.
“He’s not here to hurt me or I’d be dead already! Get back into formation!”
The soldiers seemed unsure of what to do, but after he snapped another time at them, they started moving. Not a single person protested then, not even the officers that stood a couple of feet behind him. I couldn’t help but appreciate their discipline, which went to show that they had their good sides as well. Slayer would be the first to do something stupid if I’d been in Mervan’s situation, I was sure of it.
“Smart move, Mervan the Black. I don’t wish to take your life today.”
“Today, huh? I wish this day never came, Lord Raziel,” he laughed half-heartedly. I could see he was trying to gather as much bravery as he could, but it was no easy feat when face to face with someone who could snap your neck before you could even blink.
“Yeah, call me surprised when I saw the Stheralian flag. What are you doing here?”
“Wouldn’t you mind telling me why you’re here first? Give me some face, please.”
I nodded, getting off my horse and walked up to him, stopping a sword’s-length shy from the man.
“I’m claiming No Man’s land and that tower for myself and my people.”
“Oh? How so? You know this is a dangerous place. I didn’t know the Vampire King wished to take it for himself.”
“Not him, Mervan. I defected from Lefrand and am my own master for now.”
He studied me for any bullshit I might spout, but once he was finally satisfied, Mervan nodded and let out a deep sigh.
“I see. This is quite a situation. I’m here because our King got word we might be invaded. Maybe I shouldn’t have acted as quickly on seeing your people run up to the tower.”
“I wish you hadn’t. We’ve got a big problem right now. You can either retreat, stay here indefinitely, or die fighting us. You might outnumber my army, but that doesn’t mean much when you’ve got Elven magicians and Vampires arrayed against you.”
Tower of Ancients Page 28
