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Soldiers of Legend

Page 18

by Stephen L. Nowland


  “Get back!” Nellise cried as the body exploded, sending fire, rock and dust throughout the chamber. Aiden dived for cover as it occurred, keeping his eyes tightly shut as the heat roared over him. When it had dissipated, he rolled around on his back to douse the flames flaring up from what remained of his longcoat.

  “Aiden, shut that bloody thing down already,” Robert shouted through the cloud of smoke. Taking advantage of the break in the fight, Aiden sheathed his sword and rushed back over to the portal’s control, noting that Criosa was standing nearby with her weapon at the ready to protect him.

  Without warning, the crack of several whips split the air right in front of them, and Criosa screamed in pain as two of the whips latched on to her arms and legs, and pulled her from her feet, then began dragging her screaming and kicking towards the portal.

  Aiden scrambled forward and grabbed her outstretched hand, but there was too much grime for him to gain any purchase. All he could do was lay there and watch as she disappeared through to the other side.

  “Criosa!” he shouted, then picked himself up and quickly drew Salinder with every intention of going in after her. A metal hand touched his however, and restrained him.

  “You need to close it, Aiden,” Nellise reminded him, staring at him with her golden eyes. “I will bring her back, I swear.” Aiden could only nod at her as he moved back to the panel, his thoughts jumbled with a mixture of fear and rage. Nellise held Solas Aingeal tightly and stood before the portal, closing her eyes in a moment of quiet prayer. When she opened them, she stepped through the portal without hesitation.

  “Nel!” Pacian cried in protest. He started to move towards the portal as well when Robert Black stopped him with an armoured hand on his chest.

  “Hold your position, goddamn you!” Black roared. “If we lose anyone else, we will not hold this side of the doorway. Aiden, get on with it already, or so help me I will kill you myself!”

  “I can’t close it while they’re in there,” Aiden protested.

  We will hold as long as we can, but you must unravel the secret of the device in the meantime, Spartan said in a calming voice that belied the snarling dragon’s visage just yards away.

  Aiden took a deep breath and returned to the controls, doing his best to focus on the task at hand. Again, he went through the sequence with some minor changes, and succeeded in determining what wouldn’t work, giving him some insight into the thinking behind this strange encoded language. He glanced up at the portal once more, hoping to see Nellise and Criosa come back through, but the shifting red light revealed nothing of their fate.

  Although difficult to focus with the sounds of continued fighting in the background, Aiden flipped through the Lexicon until he saw more of the relevant runes, and with a sudden flash of inspiration, he knew he’d figured it out.

  “I can close it!” he called, noticing the light around them dim once more as Sayana pulled on the last reserves of her strength, unleashing a storm of lightning through the ceiling to burn the gathering succibi. A few of them made it through and cracked their whips at her, while Robert struggled to keep fighting.

  “We’re just about done here, close the damned thing!” Robert bellowed as he rushed to stand with Sayana. Aiden looked back and forth between the fighting and the portal, hoping to see Nellise anc Criosa emerge. Nearby, Pacian fought off a succubus trying to finish off Spartan, and Aiden realised if he waited any longer, none of them would survive.

  Then, as he was about to press the final sigil, Nellise finally emerged from the portal, half-carrying, half-dragging a bloodied Criosa underneath one arm. Most of her armour and clothing had been torn away, and great welts and lines of blood were present on most of her exposed flesh.

  “Close it,” Nellise gasped before the two of them collapsed onto the ground as two huge, clawed arms reached through the portal after her. Aiden, with trembling fingers, touched the sigils in the correct sequence, and watched as the red curtain flickered and vanished, with the dull hum coming from the machine fading by the moment. The limbs of several demons who had been lashing at Nellise at the time fell to the ground, severed from their bodies, and spreading a pool of blackened blood.

  His task complete, Aiden hurried forward to protect his friends, who appeared all but spent in their efforts to hold the portal. Only five of the brutish monsters remained, and before Aiden could lunge forward, he caught wind of fresh forest air gusting through the chamber.

  A bright light appeared from the east, growing in intensity by the moment, and as the succubi turned to see what was approaching, they were struck down by a flurry of arrows and bolts of lightning. Aiden looked past them and saw a dozen elven warriors entering the ruins, along with the ancient wizards of Acadia.

  “The barrier is down,” Aiden sighed in relief as the few remaining demons were easily routed by the unleashed might of the elves. He fell to one knee and leaned on Salinder to keep from falling over, too exhausted and relieved to form coherent thought.

  * * *

  Aiden sat on one of the plain but comfortable chairs on a platform, not far from the reclaimed ruins. He sat with Criosa, who held him close as her injuries were tended by an elven priest. She was wrapped in a blanket, and had not spoken a single word since her ordeal on the other side of the portal.

  The rest of their companions sat around the wide platform in various states of injury, as the few elven priests walked between them saw to their injuries. Spartan was heavily wounded, and laid with his eyes closed, curled up in a ball not unlike an oversized, reptilian cat.

  Nellise and Pacian also held each other close, as she aided healing underway Stripped of her armour, her expression was as serene as it always was when she channelled divine energies, but Pacian’s dour expression could only be described as haunted.

  Sayana sat next to Nellise, her head resting on her knees and her red hair draped around her like a curtain, as if to shut out everything around her. This puzzled Aiden for a little while, until he realised that the elves around them were giving her some very strange looks. Word of her true nature had apparently spread amongst the small population.

  As for Robert, he sat on a chair with his badly damaged armour in a pile beside him, while he smoked a cigar. His eye focused on nothing in particular, but there was a slight tremor to his hands as he puffed out a cloud of smoke. When one of the austere elven guards walked past bearing Robert’s other blade, the mercenary snapped out of his inner contemplation and abruptly caught his attention.

  “I think this belongs to you,” he said, presenting the elegant sword he had taken from the guard, hilt first.

  “I can acquire another,” the elf replied with subtle admiration. “I believe you have earned it, sir. Wield it against your enemies in the name of Acadia.”

  “I’ll do that,” Robert rasped with a nod, offering his hand to the elf. The guard shook it firmly, before continuing on his patrol. From amongst the crowd, Aiden noticed the arch mage Gwynne, who accompanied Chancellor Lomir as they finished a cursory inspection of the area formerly behind their mystic barrier. The two elven nobles approached Aiden and Criosa, flowing through the throng with eerie grace.

  “You have accomplished what was asked of you, and for that, you have our immense gratitude,” Gwynne said. “It seems Spartan had correctly surmised your capabilities, though I must add that you seem to have been withholding information from us, Sir Aiden.”

  “We all have secrets,” Aiden replied absently, already guessing what she was talking about.

  “Not many would be carrying one of our rare artifacts, however,” Lomir chastised him. “Your sword is known to us. It was last seen in the hands of Taniir, one of our warriors who departed Acadia a hundred and forty years ago. Tell me, where did you recover the weapon?” Aiden briefly informed the Chancellor of the encounter with the dragon Vindictus at the old ruins of Feybourne, and the long-dead elven warrior he had taken it from.

  “He died at the mercy of a dragon, then,” Lomir mutter
ed, glancing over at Spartan, who was obviously listening with keen interest.

  Do not associate me with the poor choices of my cousins, he simply stated, lowering his head once more to rest.

  “There is also the matter of the soul that resides in the weapon,” Gwynne interrupted before Lomir could say more. “I observed some of the fight and was transfixed by the power you wield, Sir Aiden. Who or what resides in the soulsword?”

  “An ancient gold dragon by the name of Salinder,” Aiden replied evenly, even as he felt the ire of the spirit rise at the mention of his existence. “It didn’t want me to reveal his presence in your weapon for fear that you would attempt to repossess it, but let me assure you all, any attempt to take this blade from me would cost you dearly.”

  “There is no need for threats,” Lomir replied coldly. “I would only ask that you return our blade when the soul within is expended.”

  “They were never designed for a creature as powerful as a dragon,” Gwynne added. “I am surprised the blade did not simply melt when he found his way inside. If it has lasted this long, you should have several more days before Salinder’s energy is diminished and the blade is mundane once more.”

  “Days?” Aiden whispered, shocked at the possibility of losing his secret weapon so soon.

  “Of course. My understanding of these relics is the energy captured from the sacrifice is very limited. Such power is not sustainable.”

  “I see,” Aiden mused, more disturbed than he cared to admit at the news.

  “In any case, you have all suffered greatly in this exercise and are in need of rest,” Lomir continued. “Before you do, I wish to pledge the aid of Acadia to your cause. I can also offer you some of the finest equipment we have at our disposal, should you desire it.

  “I can also offer you access to our vault of knowledge, if you wish to learn some of our more potent incantations,” Gwynne added. “The vault stores ancient scrolls that date back to a time when Acadia was whole, and strong.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Aiden replied in a strained voice. He had no intention of going anywhere near arcane scrolls ever again, after the results of the battle of Fairloch castle weeks before.

  Do not be a fool, Salinder whispered in his mind. Take what power you can, for you will need it when you confront our enemy.

  “Aiden shouldn’t be using those,” Sayana added, raising her head to speak to the arch mage. “He lacks the discipline to control such power.”

  “Something you seem to have in abundance, yes?” Lomir retorted rudely. “Gwynne informed me of your prowess, and I assure you, despite your ascertains of control, you will one day destroy everything around you. You can thank your mother for instilling within you the sigils you bear. My order to vacate this city still applies, despite your valiant efforts this evening. Fear not, Princess, Acadia will leave here within three days for the defence of Fort Highmarch, as per our agreement. But you will leave tomorrow morning, and take your wretched sorcerer with you.”

  Sayana lowered her face between her knees to hide from the stares directed her way, and Aiden wished they could leave at that moment, to spare her more suffering at the hands of these obnoxious people.

  “So, to defend this place, your predecessors opened up the gates of Hell,” Robert observed, drawing attention away from Sayana. “Not the smartest strategy I’ve ever heard of.”

  “Hell is a state of mind,” Nellise remarked as she absently stroked Pacian’s hair. “For all their appearances, those were simply mortal creatures like us. They were twisted and devoid of compassion, or many other qualities we use to describe people such as you and I, perhaps, but existing on a blighted world that was just as real as this one. I do not believe it was their original home, but God only knows where they came from. The whole subject is abhorrent to me — I will not speak of it again.” Aiden held Criosa close and hoping that with time, her memories of that terrible place would fade.

  Chapter Eleven

  Despite his hostility towards Sayana, Lomir was nonetheless grateful for the service rendered to his people, and allowed them to stay the night to recuperate from their ordeal. Spartan remained back at the portal chamber, too injured to move for the evening, but everyone else was more than eager to find a comfortable bed for the night.

  Lacking any desire to speak of the battle, they retired to rooms that had been allotted to them. The upper floors of the chancellery held accommodations for dozens of functionaries and servants, most of which were empty, and it was to these that Aiden and his weary companions were escorted to by elderly servants. Stained-glass windows somehow magnified the moonlight and projected it along the austere walls of the long hallway in a soft, blue-white radiance.

  Peering through the doorway, Aiden saw the rooms were designed with subtle curvature on the walls, giving them an organic appearance keeping with the style of the entire city. He bid the others a good night as they entered their own rooms at various places down the vaulted hallway. He was about to step inside when a light touch on his arm brought him up short.

  “Stay with me tonight, Aiden,” Criosa whispered when he was certain they were alone.

  “Wouldn’t that be a breach of protocol?” he whispered back.

  “Only if someone at the royal court finds out about it,” she insisted. “I just want some else around for the night, that’s all.” She was afraid, and seemed more like the inexperienced young woman she was instead of the leader of a nation as she would one day become. He wordlessly agreed, and followed her into her room.

  Resolving to stay in his own bed that evening, he set Salinder down on the floor beside a plush chair and made himself comfortable, while Criosa ducked into the large wardrobe to change out of her tattered clothes. Aiden averted his eyes, but he did catch a glimpse of long red welts on her back, reminders of her brief time on the other side of the portal.

  “I wanted to compliment you on your bravery this evening,” Aiden said, both as an effort to cheer her up, and to break what he felt was an uncomfortable silence. “For a moment, I thought you might have simply let Spartan or Robert take over, but you didn’t falter.”

  “I was never going to let that happen,” Criosa answered, “but I’m not ashamed to admit that I was scared out of my mind, even before being dragged into that terrible place.” Her voice noticeably changed as she spoke about her experience.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Aiden inquired as she emerged from the wardrobe in a long, flowing green nightgown cinched at the waist with a thin cord. She sat down on the bed and ran a hand across the smooth, silken sheets, her eyes flinching at the memories going through her mind.

  “It was a bleak, desolate place, filled with misery and death,” she whispered pensively, her gaze upon the floor. “I didn’t have time to take in the scenery, as it was all I could do to keep those horrid creatures off me, and there was so much pain I thought I would pass out. Then Nellise came for me… I shall have to thank her properly tomorrow, when we’ve had a chance to rest. I dare not think of what would have happened to me if she hadn’t come to my rescue.”

  “If it wasn’t her, it would have been me,” Aiden assured her. “With Salinder’s aid, I would have destroyed anything that came near you.” Criosa smiled wanly at him, but clearly could not keep her eyes open much longer. “You should rest, now. It’s been a hard day for all of us,” he suggested.

  Criosa nodded sleepily and reclined upon the bed, gingerly covering her body in blankets until she was comfortable. Aiden leaned back in his chair and laid his sword across his lap. He didn’t suspect that he’d need to use it during the night, but having it nearby was comforting after what he’d just experienced.

  “You’re not going to leave me, are you?” she whispered.

  “I’m right here,” Aiden assured her. Before long, the sounds of contented breathing could be heard from the bed, and he leaned back and tried to relax. While resting, he contemplated the warning Salinder had given him during the fight. Any attempt to spe
ak with the dragon spirit about this resulted in silence, however.

  While he was pondering this, he heard a muffled cry through the wall. Aiden grabbed his sword and quickly got out of his chair. The noise was quiet enough that it hadn’t awoken Criosa, and he wouldn’t bother her until he discovered the source of the cry.

  He emerged into the hallway and saw Robert a few doors down, shirtless and also holding a sword in one hand. He was sporting a large number of bruises, particularly where he had broken some ribs.

  Aiden silently pointed at the door to the room next to his own, and received a confirming nod from Robert as the two men converged. A faint moan emanated from the room as they stood before it, and the mercenary acted instantly — he opened the door with one hand and rushed inside, sword at the ready, with Aiden hot on his heels. What they discovered inside the room shocked them enough that they could only stand there, staring in horror.

  Sayana was crouched upon her bed, half-covered in blood, with a dagger in one hand. Numerous wounds were visible on her arms and torso — long, gashing cuts that she had made to herself. She glanced briefly at the doorway to see the two horrified men staring at the grisly scene, before plunging the blade back in.

  Robert dropped his sword and leaped forward to grab her, holding her blade-wielding hand away from her body as best as he could. To their collective astonishment, she used her other arm to punch at Robert. The mercenary took it stoically, even when she landed a blow on his face. What Aiden had assumed was some sort of suicide attempt, was clearly something else altogether.

  “Let me go,” Sayana cried as she continued to struggle. “I have to get them out of me.”

  “Don’t just stand there,” Robert growled to Aiden as he found the young woman’s strength more than he had anticipated. Together, they managed to pin her down and force the dagger from her hand. When it was obvious that she couldn’t continue, she went limp and began sobbing into her sheets.

 

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