Six men charged at her at once and she could do nothing but step back and hide herself in the mass of her men. They stepped around her, forming a barricade for their commander, killing those who thought they could attack her.
If I die today, I will be comforted in knowing that Hanley has gone before me.
Rhada stepped through her men and back onto the first stair. She dodged the blade of an enemy and pushed the tip of her sword through his chest. She pulled it free and stepped forward, slicing through another man’s neck and another’s belly. She felt hot blood splash onto her face as she nearly severed a man’s arm who had tried to bury his blade in her chest. She stepped over his writhing body as he lay on the ground in a pool of his own blood.
Bloodbinder seemed to know exactly where to strike its enemies. She merely held out her arm and the sword found them with ease. Its sharp edges met the flesh of all those who came after her and soon, she found herself at the top of the stairs. She looked back and realized she had gathered a following. Any man she had missed was taken down by the archers who followed her.
She turned her gaze towards the lower tier where she had just come from and saw her men fighting and triumphing over Hanley’s soldiers. The stairs slowed the enemy’s advance, giving her men the upper-hand. They moved down the steps clumsily and were quickly swallowed up by the men waiting below. She suddenly realized that perhaps they stood a chance of surviving this attack.
“Form a line!” She shouted down to them, hoping her words would reach their ears. Some of the men heard and those who had not, watched their brothers in arms rush to the bottom of the stairs to form a solid line and they raced to join them.
There were hundreds of men, tightly packed shoulder-to-shoulder waiting for Hanley’s men to come to them. A second line formed behind them and Rhada shouted down “Archers!” They sheathed their swords and found their bows, nocking their arrows without being given the command.
The front line ducked as Rhada gave the command to loose. The arrows flew above their heads and Rhada watched with a grin as they struck down the oncoming horde from Bhrys.
Hanley’s men shouted in surprise and some tried to duck but, just like Bloodbinder, the arrows seemed to know where to find their enemies- with so many tightly packed bodies, it was hard for them to miss. So many hundreds of men fell to the ground; their bodies rolling down the steps, and Rhada raised her arm once again. She did not have to look behind her to know that her men were nocking their arrows for a second attack.
“Loose!” She shouted and another cloud of arrows was sent to rain down upon the enemy.
They cried out in fear and then in pain as the arrows found their flesh. Some of Hanley’s men loosed a few arrows in the direction of her archers but not many were struck.
“Charge!” Rhada shouted.
Rhada ran ahead, swinging her blade ferociously, leaving a sea of bodies behind her. I must find Hanley! She looked frantically for him but in the chaos, could not find him. She turned and cut down a man who tried to stab her from behind. She turned again and swung her blade in a large arc, cutting down three of her enemies at once. She felt someone approach from behind and try to push their blade through the back of her breastplate. She turned and shoved the tip of Bloodbinder into his shoulder. He cried out in pain as she pushed it even farther and felt it slice through bone and come free on the other side. She pulled the blade back and kicked the man hard in the belly. He fell to his knees and looked to her with anguished eyes before going limp and falling onto the blood-soaked stone beneath him.
The men who had formed lines behind her pushed forward and stood strong against their enemy. Any man who tried to force their way through the line was cut down and trodden over. They ascended the first stair together, tearing down their attackers with ease.
The men from Bhrys no longer attacked Rhada. They ran past her, trying to fight their way through the line. She wondered if they had collectively decided that breaking the line was more important than taking her down, but something inside told her they were afraid to attack her. She looked down to her feet and saw the bodies that lie in her wake. Any man would be a fool not to be afraid.
Rhada stepped forward and with anger in her heart, she swung her sword, taking down five of Bhrys’s men at once with a rounded swing at their necks. She took another step, feeling her foot slide on the blood beneath it, and swung her sword again. Blood sprayed through the air as her blade sliced through the flesh of four men. Their bellies ripped open and their guts spilled onto the ground. Rhada stepped over them and lunged ahead, burying the tip of her blade into a man’s eye. He screamed and writhed and when she pulled Bloodbinder free, he fell to his knees, holding his face with blood rushing through the gaps in his fingers. She stepped past him, searching the crowd for Hanley.
Rhada stopped when a torrent of arrows flew through the air. She reached out and grabbed the nearest man to her, using him as a shield. She felt his body jerk as he was struck with six arrows. When she loosened her grip on his shoulders, he slumped to the ground at her feet. She shouted in anger and ran ahead, slicing and cutting without looking at their faces. When she reached the archers who had stayed behind, she began killing each and every one standing in her path. They scrambled for their swords but most were not quick enough to pull them free before her steel met their flesh. Those who were able to arm themselves with steel were met with Rhada’s fury. She sliced through arms and legs and stomachs, anything she could swing her blade at. One-by-one they fell; the enemy who thought to take her by surprise.
She spun and was faced with the tip of an arrow so close to her nose it almost touched, but even before the man could loose, Rhada was on her knees slicing at his shins. He cried out and fell, and then Bloodbinder was in his throat, stifling his bellow of anguish.
She rolled off her knees and over the body of the man she had just killed to avoid the blade of an enemy as it came towards her. She came to a stop on her back and raised Bloodbinder as the enemy’s steel came swinging downward. Their blades clashed midair and Rhada pushed against him with all her strength. She raised her foot and kicked at his left knee, feeling his strength falter as he crumpled in agony. Rhada jumped to her feet and swung but the man was quick. He ducked away and rolled, ignoring the pain in his knee. He got back to his feet and held his sword up in defense.
As Rhada looked him over, she could see that he was a seasoned warrior. His gray, speckled hair draped around his broad shoulders in waves and his dark eyes glimmered with a desire for her blood. She smiled at him, feeling in that moment that they were one. They shared in a mutual need for battle; the feeling of immortality that floated about the steaming bodies of fighting men. But only one of them could be immortal. Only one of them could survive. Rhada let him make the first move. He took a step to the right, which indicated his blade would come swinging from that direction. She braced herself for the impact and Bloodbinder sang as their steel met. She pushed his sword away with a cry of victory and spun so that her back was to him. She swung again at a man who had approached from behind, trying to kill her without her taking notice of his presence. Bloodbinder nestled itself into the soft flesh of his neck, slicing through the small bones and stopping at his spine. She kicked the man away, pulled Bloodbinder free and turned just in time to bat away the other man’s sword.
His eyes grew livid at her speed. She could see he was beginning to panic. She ducked his blade again, turned and brought her fist up to strike at his jaw. He fell backwards, onto his haunches with a stunned look upon his face. Rhada nearly laughed aloud. She always found it amusing when men were surprised by her strength. He tried to raise his blade again but Rhada swung Bloodbinder in a downward thrust, slicing the man’s sword hand at the wrist. Her sharp steel had no difficulty severing the hand and it fell to the ground, still clutching his blade.
An attack from the side nearly caught her off guard, but she spun away at the last moment and turned to face her attacker. He was a young man with frightened eyes. Many others had
gathered behind him and were all waiting for their turn to fight the High Protector. She planted her feet firmly into the ground and held Bloodbinder with both hands, waiting for the attack of what she counted to be thirty men.
The sound of her own men approaching from behind gave her the reassurance she needed. She let out a bellowing war cry and rushed head-first into those who surrounded her. They looked surprised at her sudden charge but braced for the impact.
She took down the young man first, knocking away his counter with ease and pushing the tip of Bloodbinder above his navel. She shoved him away quickly and blocked the blow of a battle-axe. Why an archer carried a battle-axe at his side, Rhada did not know, but she felt the strength of it resonate against her sword. She pulled Bloodbinder back and jumped away as the axe swung in her direction. She was about to counter again when something caught her ankle and pulled her off her feet. Rhada cried out as she fell, hitting the ground hard. Before she could get to her feet, a strong hand was wrapped around her neck, choking the air from her lungs. The eyes of the graying warrior were livid, and though he only had one hand, he held her with surprising strength, burying his knee painfully into her shoulder so that she was pinned beneath him.
Rhada gripped Bloodbinder tightly in both hands as the battle-axe swung down towards her chest. She held the blade up to block the blow, feeling the hard steel of the axe scrape against her plated-breast. As the axe was pulled away to take aim again, she knew she only had seconds to act. She brought the tip of Bloodbinder upward, striking the man who held her down in the throat. He shuddered and fell on top of her and she pulled him farther over her chest to take the blow of the axe as it came crashing down once again. She felt the impact vibrate through the dead man’s body; it shook her to the core. She yanked Bloodbinder from his flesh, pushed him aside and drove her blade into the axe handler’s thigh. He screamed and fell, holding his bloody leg with his free hand. Rhada got back to her feet and wrapped her fingers tightly through the man’s hair. She brought her knee up as she shoved his face downward and felt the crack of his nose against her kneecap. She smiled as he crumpled at her feet.
Rhada’s men had swarmed her other attackers and were sending them quickly to their Maker. Hanley’s archers were nothing but a sea of lifeless bodies at their feet.
Rhada stood tall for a moment and took in a few deep breaths. She realized that she had been running without breathing, cutting and slicing without even thinking of resting. Her sword arm was growing tired but she would not stop until all her enemies lay at her feet. She looked ahead and saw they had breached Hanley’s defensive lines and all that remained were a few stragglers; mostly archers who stood with bows in hand, terrified and quaking. They had not expected Rhada and her men to be victorious.
The man at her feet writhed and cried, holding his bloody nose as he rocked from side to side. Rhada wrapped her hold around the pommel of Bloodbinder and thrust the blade downward into his chest. It was not long before he was silent.
She turned her head and looked all around for Hanley but still could not find him. The coward has fled! She smiled when she turned her attention back to the enemy ahead, knowing their leader had abandoned them.
“Kill them all!” She shouted to her men and they broke their lines to rush forward. Their war cry echoed throughout the air, sending chills down the spines of their foes.
Their enemies raised their swords in defense but they stood no chance. Bloodbinder would not allow any of the traitors to escape with their lives. She raced through them swiftly; one cut for every man she came across. Not one of them survived her attacks. She could kill them all with her eyes closed. She cried out in her wrath and all the men behind joined in her war cry. Their voices struck fear into the hearts of their enemy. She could clearly see the fear in their eyes as she approached. Some men tried laying down their weapons at her feet but she struck them down with Bloodbinder nonetheless. She would leave no survivors.
She could not say how long they had fought upon the battlements but when there were no more of Hanley’s men to fight, she lowered Bloodbinder and leaned against a stone wall to catch her breath. She looked up as she breathed heavily and took in the scene before her.
The clouds above were thick and heavy as ever but the rain had ceased, leaving a mist that rose from the floor from the heat of the battle. And all around her were dead or dying men. Their blood painted the stone red and even splashed onto the walls around them. She looked down to her hands and arms and saw they were covered in blood as well. She could feel it sticking to her face and hair and her breastplate no longer shined with pristine cleanness, it was dark red and dripping.
What remained of her men were all in the same condition. They were painted red from head to foot. They stood in the wake of their destruction, looking down to the poor souls who had been slaughtered.
She wondered how it had happened that they won the skirmish. Her men had been outnumbered and Hanley’s men had the advantage of higher ground, but still they prevailed. She knew her men were better trained but their training had been mostly with the bow, not the blade. She looked to her men with pride as they stood in their victory; their flimsy second-hand swords in hand, covered in their enemy’s blood. They should have all been dead, but somehow they had lived.
After she caught her breath, Rhada pushed herself away from the wall and walked to the opposite side of the battlement. She was almost afraid to look but knew that she had to. She wondered if Mayvard was still alive.
She sheathed Bloodbinder and leaned forward to peer over the battlement. What she saw down below reflected the scene that surrounded her, except it was her own men painting the ground red with blood. She could see their corpses spread across the castle grounds like a blanket of death. Lord Ivran’s army moved through them with ease and was already streaming into the castle.
It is over then. We have lost. Though she had secured the battlements, the majority of her army had been annihilated. She turned to her remaining archers and looked to them with regret. The pride she had felt in them only moments ago fled as she looked upon their doomed faces. The enemy had entered their stronghold and was coming for them.
“The castle has been breached!” She shouted to them. Those who were rifling through the corpses looked up to her with dread. “You have fought bravely. But now is the time to flee. Save yourselves! Escape the castle, find your families and get as far away from Axendra as you can!”
“You want us to run?” One man asked bewildered. This was an order none of them had ever expected to hear escape the High Protector’s lips.
“If you value your lives, you will run. Only a few hundred of us remain. A few hundred will not be enough to face the thousands who are now filling the castle walls.”
She turned away from them in shame, knowing that all eyes were upon her. She had never lost a battle before and the feeling of hopelessness that took hold of her was almost unbearable. She could not look at her men any longer. She could not bear to meet their gazes. She had let them all down. It was her fault they had lost. She should have been able to see the betrayal before it happened but for some reason, she had been blind to it. You are a fool, Rhada. She scolded herself.
She looked over the edge of the battlement to keep her gaze away from the men she could hear shuffling through the bodies as they made their escape. She waited for several moments until all noises around her had died, hoping that when she turned they would all be gone.
She turned slowly and was met with silence. Her men had escaped down the backside of the battlement, through the castle grounds and into the forest where they would be concealed from their enemy’s eyes. She thought about doing the same but as Bloodbinder began to vibrate heavily at her side, she knew she could not run. She had known all along what her fate was to be on this day. She had one last thing to do and she hoped that she could survive long enough to do it.
She took a few carefully placed steps, trying not to crush the bodies of the dead beneath her feet, when sudd
enly, she stopped. She peered down at the body beneath her with astonishment then leaned down and rubbed her fingers along the black armor.
The dead man before her had been wearing black boiled leather that looked just like Hanley’s. She had not paid much attention to what Hanley was wearing before the battle but she had noticed a golden ring upon his finger as he held tightly to his bow. She reached over and lifted his hand and saw the ring. She turned her gaze to where his head should have been and saw nothing but a bloody trail. His head had been cleanly cut off and when she looked around for it, she could not find it. Someone had severed Hanley’s head and taken it with them.
Chapter 26
Lord Ivran took his first step ever into the castle of Axendra. He took in a deep, satisfying breath as he stood upon the threshold. And though he had to step over the bodies of dead men to get there, he felt a surprising amount of joy in finally entering the castle walls.
For months he had been dreading this day; the day where men had to die and he would be forced into his new home which he had considered as nothing more than a stone prison. But as he stood inside its walls, looking in upon the main corridor, his fear of the castle melted away and he could not help but smile.
It was dark and shadows crept in every corner but it was his home now and through him, the light would shine. He would make certain the light could reach every corner and every stone of this castle. He would brighten the corridors and fill its halls with joy. He could feel the future of this castle burning in his veins. It was as though the castle had been waiting for him- a man who could chase away the darkness. And once the halls were lit and the banners strung anew, this castle would not be a prison, it would be freedom for all who dwelled under his rule. All that remained to do was to get rid of the vermin that still scurried about.
Lord Ivran ordered his men to search the castle and bring all inhabitants to him. His men began shuffling through the corridors, opening each door they passed. The halls began to fill with screams as people were pulled from their chambers and forced into the cold hallway. Lord Ivran stepped around them as he walked briskly toward the main hall. He would station himself there and wait for his enemies to be brought to him. He would take up the King’s throne and from there, cast down his judgment upon the heads of the tyrants.
Rise of Darkness (The Watchers Book 2) Page 26
