Finally, Ferran and Faramond reached the west wall. Rallying the walls defenders was Sophia, a look of panic on her blood-stained face. A great sense of relief filled Ferran as he saw that his wife was unharmed. She spotted him and hurried into his arms.
“Praise Niveren you’re safe,” she whispered into his ear.
Ferran eased the embrace and looked into his wife’s eyes.
“The outer wall will soon be overrun. Get these men to safety.”
“What about Luxon? He … he jumped over the wall. I’ve never seen anything like it. Such rage.”
The stone beneath their feet shook violently as a volley of fireballs launched by the advancing N’gist struck the vulnerable part of the wall. Danon was now free to bring his own magic users into the fray. Against such odds, Luxon could not win.
“He’s lost control. I’ll get him,” Ferran yelled over the din.
Sophia kissed him deeply. She then turned and joined Faramond in shouting orders at the outer wall’s remaining defenders.
Ferran’s mind raced. Somehow he had to make a thirty foot drop, grab Luxon and get to safety. He looked around desperately before his gaze settled upon a nearby ballistae tower. The weapons crew was preparing to abandon their position. He broke into a run and sprinted up the tower’s curved staircase to the summit. The ballistae crew cried out in surprise as he burst out onto the weapon’s platform. His black armour and stern expression gave him an imposing appearance.
Ferran smiled as he spotted the long coiled rope that lay next to the ballistae.
“Attach the rope to the ballistae,” he ordered.
The guards hesitated; their desire to flee was obvious.
“Do it and then go.”
The soldiers nodded and began to hastily attach the rope. In the event of a conventional siege, the ballistae crews would attach thick ropes to specially designed heavy iron-tipped bolts and fire them at approaching siege towers. The crews would then hit a lever that would attempt to pull the rope back in. The weight of the bolt and the momentum of the rope being withdrawn would then hopefully cause the siege tower to wobble, and in some cases pull it over entirely. The broken remains of a Sarpi tower further down the wall was a testament to the success of the strategy.
“Rope attached, sir,” the ballistae crew’s captain said after a few moments.
“Good. Get out of here; fall back to the inner wall.”
The crew hurried off down the tower’s curved staircase.
Ferran looked out over the battlefield. It was utter carnage. To his right, the tribal warriors were engaged in a vicious fighting retreat against Sarpi who were now pouring over the walls. To his left, the legion had formed a shield wall and was fending off swarming Fell Beasts and undead. Their bravery was allowing their comrades to flee to the safety of the inner wall. Below him he could see Luxon. The wizard was out of control. He had erected a magical shield that the N’gist were now hammering at with volleys of their own deadly power. It wouldn’t be long before Luxon exhausted himself; rage can only sustain a man for so long, after all.
Ferran gripped the ballistae and swung the heavy weapon around so that it was aimed at the next stone tower over. He drew his tourmaline blade and summoned it to life. Narrowing his eyes, he estimated distances. If he was going to pull off this mad idea, he couldn’t afford to make any mistakes.
Satisfied that the ballistae was aimed correctly, he pulled the firing lever. The weapon kicked like a mule as it fired out the heavy bolt, the rope unfurling behind it. The bolt pierced the stonework of the targeted tower and embedded itself securely. The rope was now taught behind it.
“Here goes,” Ferran muttered. He climbed onto the edge of the tower and carefully grabbed hold off the rope. Uttering a prayer to Niveren, he cut the rope free of the ballista.
Below him, Luxon was being forced backwards by the N’gist. The wizard was staggering under the assault. If Ferran didn’t act soon, he would surely perish. Ferran jumped.
At first he fell straight downwards. For a moment he felt panic, but then the rope snagged and he began to swing. In one great arc he went, the ground approaching at an alarming rate. Wind whistled in his ears as he fell, drowning out the sounds of battle.
“Luxon!” Ferran roared.
The wizard glanced up in surprise. His skin was deathly pale and his hair was once again sandy blond; fear had replaced the rage in his eyes. With his right hand, Ferran gripped the rope tighter, and with his left he reached for Luxon. The two came together with a thud, but the momentum of the swing was enough to lift them back into the air. Ferran’s left arm wrapped tightly about Luxon’s waist. Sarpi arrows whistled passed them and he could feel the heat of the N’gist magical attacks passing close by.
Ferran had calculated correctly.
The rope’s momentum carried them higher until they reached the top of the other tower. At the height of the arc, he pulled on the rope to swing them about the tower’s peak. Then he let go. For a brief moment they flew like birds, before crashing onto the top of the tower in a tangle of limbs. The wind was knocked out of them both by the impact.
Ferran sat up and laughed. He’d done it!
His joy was replaced by concern as he looked at Luxon. The wizard was shivering and his eyes were full of tears. Ferran helped his friend up.
“Can you walk?” he asked.
Now that Luxon was no longer a barrier to their advance, the bulk of the Sarpi army surged forward. The N’gist concentrated their magic, and within moments a huge hole was blasted into the citadel’s outer wall. Frantic legion horns blared to signal the retreat. If they didn’t hurry, they would be trapped. Luxon nodded to indicate that he could walk. Ferran threw one of the wizard’s arms over his shoulder and hurried down the tower’s curved staircase. At the bottom, he peered out into the courtyard. So far, the enemy hadn’t overrun the area. They hurried as quickly as they could across the courtyard and up a flight of stone steps. A metal door was built into the base of the inner wall. He banged on the door with a fist. A few seconds went by before the door opened with a screeching of metal. Sophia stood in the doorway.
“You crazy bastard,” she said.
“Yeah, well it worked didn’t it?” Ferran replied with a smirk.
Sophia helped him with Luxon, before slamming the heavy door shut and bolting it closed.
Together they moved down a passageway, before once again ascending a tall curving staircase. At the top they came to another door which led out into keep of the fortress. Soldiers hurried to and fro to help the wounded arriving from the outer wall.
Commander Fritin was at the centre of the chaos. A bloodied bandage was wrapped about his head, but the commander was still bellowing orders to his men.
“Close the bloody gates!” he roared.
Legionaries ran forward to carry out his orders.
“Sir, we still have people out there,” called one of the soldiers.
Fritin strode over to the solider.
“If we don’t shut the gates we all die. Do as I command. We will just have to beg for Niveren’s forgiveness … if we survive this.”
31.
Danon watched the battle unfolding with a smirk on his face. The defenders had fought bravely, just like they always did. He had to give it to the mortals, they fought for every moment of time that they could get. He had seen it thousands of years ago and he was witnessing it again now. Some things never change.
Standing next to him was a Sarpi general. They were loyal subjects; they had never wavered in their devotion to him, despite the punishments suffered for doing so. Whilst the other civilisations of man had favoured his brother Niveren as a god, the Sarpi had remained loyal to Danon. In some ways they shared a lot in common. Both had been cast out; both had been abandoned by the light.
“Send my men in, my lord,” the general hissed. “Let us show you our devotion,”
Danon smiled wickedly. Yes, they were truly his. His one success. He would not stop until the world of
men were as loyal to him as they. When that happened, Niveren’s failure would be complete. They would fall to their knees before him or they would die. He would show them that Niveren’s great sacrifice had been for nothing.
“No. I know how devoted you and your kin are to me. I will send in the gargantuans. Let the Delfinnians see the power at my command.”
* * *
Luxon slouched against the wall of a barrack building, a thick woollen cloak wrapped about his shoulders. He couldn’t stop shivering. Hannah sat at his side, concern etched on her face. His skin was cold, and it felt as though ice was in his veins. Around them, the battle raged on. With less ground to defend, the legion and the tribal warriors were making it difficult for the enemy to make much headway. The runes engraved on the inner wall had once again nullified the N’gist’s attacks, but the Fell Beasts continued to throw themselves at the defenders. Danon appeared happy to keep the Sarpi and N’gist in reserve and let his monsters do the bulk of the fighting. If the Watchers fell, he would have more than enough warriors to launch a full scale invasion of Delfinnia.
Hannah looked up as Ferran approached them.
“I’ve tried everything I know,” Hannah said despairingly. “My magic is not having any effect on him.”
Ferran knelt down before Luxon, removed one of his gloves and placed his now bare hand to the wizard’s forehead. It was icy cold. He closed his eyes and sighed.
“It is the Void sickness. By losing control like he did, the sickness has intensified. It is like a poison that needs to be drained. This is far beyond our powers to heal.”
Hannah wiped the tears from her eyes.
“There must be something we can do, some way to help him,” she said, her voice quivering.
Ferran swore under his breath. Their entire strategy had depended on Luxon’s power. Without him able to fight, there was nothing to match Danon. Hannah cried out as the ground shook violently. It shook again and again; it sounded like a giant’s footsteps.
“What is that?” Hannah asked, fear in her voice.
Ferran looked to walls. Panicked shouts came from the defenders and a horn sounded in warning, its note low and ominous.
Running footsteps approached. It was Faramond and Sophia.
“So Danon has sent in the gargantuans,” Faramond said softly. “Three gargantuans.”
The moment Ferran had dreaded had arrived. He stood up slowly, loosened his limbs and took the tourmaline blade off his belt.
“This is a fight that only a Nightblade has a chance of winning,” he said darkly.
He reached into his tunic and fingered the three vials that were securely tucked inside. Kaiden had used one in Stormglade. If Ferran had known that he would be facing so many Fell Beasts, he would have packed a lot more.
“I won’t let you face them alone,” Sophia said sternly. Ferran smiled at his wife.
“I wasn’t going to stop you. I’m going to need all the help I can get. One would be bad enough, but three?”
Faramond looked at them both as though they were mad, before laughing.
“You are crazy. I will do what I can to help you bring down those monsters,” he chuckled.
Luxon tried to talk, but his words came out slurred. Hannah gripped his hand tightly.
Ferran crouched down in front of his friend.
“Hannah will look after you, Luxon. Don’t worry about us, we’ve been in tighter spots than this.” He looked at Hannah. “Get him inside. If the walls fall, flee and do not look back.”
Hannah wiped her eyes again and nodded.
“We will,” she promised.
The ground shook again and a deafening roar split the sky. The sound was so loud that they had to clamp their hands over their ears. On the walls, the men of the legion cried out in fear; only the stern shouts of their commanders stopped them from fleeing. Ferran nodded to his companions before turning and running towards the walls. His tourmaline blade was lit and ready. Close behind him, Faramond drew his sword and Sophia unsheathed the deadly curved daggers at her belt. They ran up the steps and shouldered their way through the soldiers manning the battlements. Sophia gasped as the view before her took her breath away.
Fell Beasts swarmed like ants in the Watchers’ ward as they sought a way to attack the men defending the inner wall. Arrows rained down upon them, cutting down scores at a time. Huge chunks of the outer wall had collapsed where the Sarpi siege weapons and N’gist magic had done their work. Sarpi archers had scaled the outer wall and were now exchanging fire with the defenders on the inner wall. Sophia ducked as a Sarpi arrow whistled passed. Another part of the outer wall exploded outwards as one of the gargantuans smashed through it. The beast was massive; its armoured head shook violently from side to side and, again, a deafening roar filled the air.
Sophia, Ferran and Faramond skidded to halt and ducked behind the crenulations. This was the first time Sophia had even seen one of the monsters. She peaked over the side. The creature was now lumbering into the ward on four tree-trunk-sized legs. Armoured plates covered the entirety of its body and spiny growths grew through the gaps. Its huge head was the shape of a hammer’s head and covered in red plates. Its eyes were yellow, and its vast mouth was full of razor sharp teeth. A long barbed tongue like that of a snake flicked out like a whip.
Ballistae bolts lanced towards the beast, the heavy iron bolts bouncing harmlessly off of its armour. Cries came from behind. Sophia turned just as another of the behemoths smashed through the outer wall. Debris flew in all directions and a cloud of dust enveloped the ward between walls.
Ferran pointed to the first of the gargantuans.
“We take this one first,” he yelled over the din. The others nodded in agreement.
The monster had reached the base of the inner wall and began to claw at it. It pulled back its head before slamming it against the stone. Sophia cried out as the wall shook. Some of the legionaries lost their footing and fell backwards into the courtyard far below.
Ferran broke out into a sprint. Another strike like that and the wall would fall. Already, after just one impact, there was massive crack. The three of them reached the top of the wall; the beast was right below them.
“What’s the plan?” Faramond shouted.
“I’ve only ever fought one of these things before,” Ferran said. “That time I was with my brother Nightblades. Out of the twenty of us that started the hunt, only three of us made it back alive. The only weakness they have is a small gap in the armour between their skull and neck. If we can strike a blow there, we might be able to bring it down.” He touched the vials in his pocket again. “We have to weaken it enough so that the vials will be able to send it back to the Void.”
“Let’s get to it then,” Faramond replied, determination on his face.
The Nightblade turned to the king and held his hand out. Faramond smiled and gripped it tightly. “May Niveren protect us,” he said before climbing up onto the battlements. Ferran climbed up, too, and pulled up Sophia.
“This is crazy,” she muttered.
The gargantuan began to rear back in preparation for another blow against the wall. Arrows lanced down at the creature, but all bounced harmlessly off of its armour.
Ferran shouted at the nearby legion archers to stop shooting, then jumped. For the second time that day he was falling towards danger. The gargantuan roared as it spotted the black-clad figure hurtling towards it. With its huge bulk, the creature had little room to manoeuvre, being in between the shattered remains of the outer wall and the still-standing inner wall. As he got closer, Ferran channelled his magic to slow his descent. He landed with a thud onto the gargantuan’s back, wind-milling his arms to keep his balance. He looked up to the wall and waved to Faramond and Sophia. They, too, jumped. Steadying himself, Ferran used his magic once again, this time to slow the falls of his comrades. He was nowhere near as powerful as Luxon, and the strain of using such magic caused his arms to quiver with fatigue. The gargantuan rocked side to side, kno
cking him off of his feet. With a cry he began to slide off the beasts back. Quickly he raised his tourmaline blade and stabbed downwards. The magical blade bit deeply into the creature’s armour, slowing his descent. Eventually he came to a stop, his feet dangling over open air.
Below, he could see goblins and pucks massing close to the gargantuan. The Fell Beasts were waiting for the walls to be breached. He hauled himself back up and clambered back onto the gargantuan’s back. Faramond had landed safely and was carefully making his way towards the beast’s neck and the chink in its armour. He heard Sophia shouting.
Spinning around, he spotted his wife close to the gargantuan’s tail which was now resting against the ruined remains of the outer wall. Sarpi warriors were running down its length and onto the gargantuan’s back; their aim, to stop Ferran and the others. Sophia drew the daggers from their sheaths on her belt. She flipped one so that she held it by the blade, and then pulled back her arm. With deadly accuracy, she threw the dagger at the lead Sarpi. With a scream, the warrior fell from the gargantuan’s tail. Sophia threw the second dagger, taking down another Sarpi, before drawing the sword at her hip.
“Help Faramond. I’ll hold them off!” she shouted over her shoulder.
Ferran turned and swore. Faramond had made it close to the monster’s neck, but just as he was about to thrust his sword downward he was swatted by the beast’s tongue, which now moved like a threatened snake.
Faramond staggered back to his feet. The tongue snapped at him again, but this time the king ducked under it. He swung his blade in a wide arc and sliced deeply into the salivating organ. As the blade struck, the gargantuan roared in pain. It reared backwards, almost making Ferran lose his footing once again. Using magic, he regained his balance and ran towards the neck. Faramond was now engaged in a deadly ballet with the whipping tongue.
War for the Sundered Crown (The Sundered Crown Saga Book 2) Page 23
