Battlefield of the Sacred Land

by Mark E. Tyson

  “We are too far away. I can’t tell from here,” Trendan said.

  “We need to get closer, then,” Shey said. “I wish we had a mindwielder with us! Deylia could hide us from prying eyes.”

  “There are some hills on the left of this army. I remember them from the first War of the Oracle. If we can get to them, we can perch ourselves up there and spy on what’s happening,” Gondrial said.

  “If I were leading this army, I would head for that high ground,” Seancey said. “I would at least have my generals up there. Isn’t it too dangerous?”

  “There is only one way to find out,” Gondrial said.

  “I would feel better about this if I still had my Lora Daine for a quick escape,” Bren said.

  “And I would feel better about it if I had wings,” Gondrial said sarcastically. Bren gave him a sharp look.

  They sneaked around the flank of the Scarovian army, careful to stay far enough away as to not be seen by the patrols. The army was focused on the opposite army ahead of them, anyway. When they reached the hills Gondrial was talking about, horns sounded in the distance. The army was attacking something. Gondrial was right; the hills allowed them to look down into a small valley at the two forces facing each other. They all got down on their bellies and flattened out as best they could. There were no signs of anyone using the hills as a command post or even of patrols. The army was still focused on the battlefield ahead. The Unseen were leaping into the air and tearing the Dramyds and Drasmyd Duil of Kambor to shreds—the creatures they could leap up and catch, at least. Legions of undead were coming from the northwest, and the regalia of an army to the northeast identified it as the army of Abaddonia. It appeared the unlife were joining with the Scarovian army and marching on the Abaddonians. There was no sign of Dorenn’s Trigothians.

  “They are fighting each other!” Seancey said. “Isn’t this good news? Maybe they will destroy each other or at least wear each other out so that when Dorenn’s army arrives, he can easily route them.”

  “It’s only good news if Kambor’s army can defeat the lich. If Naneden wins or has the advantage, he can raise the dead soldiers of the other side to join his army,” Shey said.

  Trendan was appalled. “How do you defeat something that can replenish his army like that?”

  “Mindwielders,” Shey said. “They can confuse the lich and stop him from gathering too many minions.” She thought for a moment. “But Naneden knows that.” She put her hand on Gondrial’s arm. “The illusion at the portal. Gondrial, Naneden has raised Marella and the others to counteract any mindwielders we use! Deylia felt sick when she touched the illusion. It was made by an undead mindwielder!”

  “Oh gods, no! I think you’re right,” Gondrial said. “I hate to say it, but if Kambor loses, we are in bad shape. I don’t think the army of Trigothia will be enough!”

  “If Kambor falls, we have to get to Dorenn as soon as possible and warn him. He can’t just lead an army straight into battle. Naneden will slaughter him. He needs a new strategy.”

  “Not to be a naysayer, but you’re both assuming that Dorenn convinced the Trigothian kings to form an army in the first place,” Seancey said. “When we left him, he was only setting up a meeting.”

  Shey looked at Gondrial, and they both snickered. “Morgoran and Ianthill are there. If Dorenn is unable to convince them, those two old wizards definitely will. I have no doubt an army will come,” she said.

  “Speaking of an army, look off to the Abaddonian flank. What’s going on there?” Vesperin said.

  Trendan looked with his half-elven vision again. “It’s Rennon! He is with a few men, and it looks as if he’s fighting a gold dragon!”

  “Holy Venifyre!” Seancey said. “He’s engaged Kambor. We have to get down there. He’s fighting the wrong foe. Is there any sign he’s with Dorenn’s army?”

  “No, none,” Trendan said.

  Gondrial stood and brushed the dirt from his chest. “Shey, do you remember any of that travel spell we used at the Vale of Morgoran, from the book?”

  “Aye, I remember it all,” she said. “But it’s loud, remember? Every wielder within several leagues will hear it.”

  “No one will care with the battle raging. Cast it!” Gondrial said.

  “All right, everyone gather. I will get us down there.”

  Chapter 23: Nox Seducere

  Rennon and Theosus avoided the border towns as they entered the Sacred Land with their band of fifty mindwielders. Kambor had been busy. The border towns were devoid of people and instead were inhabited by throngs of Dramyd and Drasmyd Duil. It was Theosus who suggested they travel under the protection of an illusion. They would ride into the Sacred Land as completely undetectable as the wind. They rode for quite some time before they reached an abandoned Defender outpost. Rennon feared the Defenders were probably all dead or scattered at this point. They stopped to water the horses and to make plans. Kambor’s temple of the Oracle was rumored to be rebuilt now, and they had to find a place not to be discovered but still close enough to be able to cut off Kambor from drawing essence when Dorenn’s Trigothian army arrived. They left the outpost and proceeded west until Theosus spotted a black cloud on the horizon and identified it as Dramyds and Drasmyd Duil flying from the south toward the north.

  Rennon ordered a stop. “Theosus, I have an idea.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I think we should hold back until all of the Dramyds have flown by and then follow them to Kambor. Surely they are flying to meet with him.”

  “This could just be a large patrol, Rennon. I think we should stick to the plan. I say we let them pass and then use the map to travel to the old spot where the Temple of the Oracle was located.”

  “I still say he wouldn’t rebuild it on the same spot! I wouldn’t.”

  “Why not?” Theosus asked.

  “Because everyone would know my position in advance. I would change the location,” Rennon said.

  “Hold on, what was that?” Theosus said, looking off into the distance.

  “Signs of a battle. We must be close to where Kambor is engaging Dorenn’s Trigothians.”

  “This quickly? How did he get here so fast?”

  “We are in the rejuvenating Sacred Land. I’m sure if one wizard can move an entire army, Dorenn can use it to get his here,” Rennon said.

  “I hope you’re right.” Theosus turned to the others. “RIDE!”

  When they topped the low hill, the first thing, other than the battle raging in the distance, was the gold dragon commanding troops at the rear flank of an army that Rennon recognized by the banners to be the Abaddonians. He rode straight for the beast, his heart pounding at the possibility of winning the war for Dorenn.

  When Rennon arrived and jumped from his horse, the gold dragon saw him and reared up his head. Theosus readied himself to transform into his dragon form as soon as Rennon gave the order. Rennon took Theosus’ pack and slung it up over his shoulder for safekeeping. In his true form, Theosus would have no place to carry it. Kambor began to cast a spell, and the power of the Sacred Land was visible as Theosus had surmised.

  “Now!” Rennon yelled to his men. Each one of them concentrated on the gold dragon, and the essence flow stopped abruptly. Kambor roared in pain and looked down at Rennon. He raised his massive front claw to crush him, but Theosus was there first. A blue and red scaled claw pushed Kambor aside.

  “You fools. You do not know what you’re doing,” Kambor roared. “Brendlewyre! Do you not see?”

  “You must be stopped, Golvashala! This world will not accommodate your mad plans.”

  “The lich! Brendlewyre, the lich! He is coming.”

  Theosus clawed at Kambor and readied himself to breathe fire. “You will not defeat the armies of Trigothia!” He breathed the fire onto Kambor, knocking the massive drake off his feet.

  Kambor recovered, smoldering. “What army of Trigothia? I am defending the Sacred Land from the lich, Naneden.”

 
“Naneden is dead,” Theosus said.

  “Aye, undead. The Scarovian army has defected to fight for him. My Dramyds, Drasmyd Duil, and Abaddonians are the only ones standing before Naneden, the Unseen, the Scarovs, and his hordes of undead. You must believe me; you must let me fight him off.”

  Theosus looked to Rennon, who was shaking his head. Even if he is telling the truth, we are trading one evil for another! he thought to Theosus. We cannot fight both of them with a handful of mindwielders. Even if Dorenn arrives with the Trigothians, one foe is better than two. We can’t trust him.

  Theosus nodded his huge maw and unleashed another torrent of fire on Kambor. The gold dragon blocked it. “You may have stopped me from wielding, but I am a dragon!” He opened his maw and let forth a blinding white light. The white light burned across the body of Theosus and cascaded into tongues of lightning that fell upon the mindwielders. Rennon dived out of the way, but some of his men were not so lucky. Theosus fell to the ground, his hide rent into large bloody gashes. Golvashala faced where Rennon fell and opened his maw again. This time, great tongues of lightning issued forth, scorching the ground and burning holes through his men. The gold dragon turned to Theosus and let another bolt of white light burn through his dragon-hard scales. To his horror, Rennon felt the whole of Theosus’ mind fade into nothingness. Kambor, Golvashala, had killed his friend.

  Infuriated, Rennon leaped to his feet and willed a wall of protection over his men. Golvashala let out his white light, and it reflected off the shield and burned the drake’s own shoulder, cascading again into the lightning, burning parts of the dragon’s own body. The beast stumbled back in disbelief. He opened his maw to breathe the light again.

  “Go ahead, you great lizard! Try it! You’ll not break through.” In a sudden escalation of anger, Rennon willed the shield forward into thousands of sharp points. He wasn’t certain where the idea had come from, but for some reason, he was sure it would work. Several of the mind-daggers struck Kambor before he could use his own dragon magic to block them. They tore through his body and hard scales easily. He roared in pain as he brought his own shield up to block the rest.

  Rennon turned to what was left of his men. “That’s it. That’s how we can get him. All of you cast a shield and then will it forward as dagger points!”

  “But, sir,” one of his men said, “we have been trying since we saw you do it and we cannot. None of us have that kind of willpower.”

  “Nonsense. Just do it.” He couldn’t accept that he was the only one who could do such a thing.

  One of the men cast a shield, and Rennon thought he was about to succeed, but as soon as he tried to turn the shield into daggers, his nose began to bleed and he fell to the ground, convulsing wildly before expiring.

  Rennon was disheartened. He turned his attention back to the great golden beast, who was rising before him. Kambor would not fall for the same trick twice, he thought. He gathered his strength and began to will the shield up again. But he had a thought. What if he made the shield into one big spike before the dragon fully recovered? He pushed out with his mind and transformed the shield into a great pike that crashed through the chest of the great beast.

  “A shame!” Golvashala said. “You can’t see what you have done.” He fell to the ground, clutching for the pike that was no longer there when Rennon let it dissipate.

  “One fewer villain to defeat. That’s what I see!” Rennon’s men cheered and rallied to him.

  “The main fighting is still a ways away. We will rest for a moment and then go scout out what’s happening. Dorenn’s army should be arriving soon. In fact, I thought he had already arrived, and he will need us.”

  “What of our dead, sir?” one of his men asked.

  “Break down the wagons and use the wood in a pyre and cover it with the oil we brought. Throw the dead on top, and we will light it before we go so that if it attracts attention, we will already be gone.”

  The men ran off toward the wagons, and Rennon turned to the dead dragons. He was unsure what to do with Theosus. As Brendlewyre, he was huge and impossible to move, but he felt he needed to do something to honor his friend. He reached into Theosus’ pack and took out his Lora Daine. It was blue and about the size of a grapefruit.

  He was startled to see Kambor’s great maw begin to rise from the ground. Rennon assumed a fighting stance, still holding the Lora Daine but dropping the pack. About ten of his men stood with him; the rest were already tearing down the wagons.

  “What do we do?” one of his men asked.

  “Stay with me,” Rennon replied.

  The head of Golvashala stared at him blankly and then burst into dark flames. Several more of his men stopped what they were doing and rushed to Rennon’s aid. The body continued to rise and continued to burn. Theosus also began to rise; black flames consumed him as well. Sinewy snakes of black fog crawled ominously along the dusty ground. Rennon began to shiver as he and his men heard the bone-chilling laughter of someone behind the dragons. The drake’s flesh burned away, and the black fog became thicker. A figure appeared out it; the fog adhered to the figure as if it were walking through a wall of cobwebs. What emerged sent torrents of fear through Rennon’s body. It was in the figure of a man with tattered black robes sweeping behind it in an unnatural wind. Its face was nothing more than a skull with sunken eyes. It carried a staff with a curved blade at the bottom and a human skull affixed to the top portion of the staff, which appeared to be a part of a spine, permanently frozen in a silent scream. It wore a silver crown of sinister spikes.

  The flames around the drakes burned out, and they both emanated the eerie black fog instead. It rolled out of their exposed bones and flowed to the ground around them.

  Several of Rennon’s men took off running at full speed behind him. Only a handful stayed with him.

  “Thank you!” the lich rasped in a gurgling deep voice. Now Golvashala will serve me.”

  “What have I done!” Rennon said. He turned to his men and reached out his arm. “Grab ahold!” The man nearest him grabbed his arm, and the rest grabbed ahold of them in turn. The next vision Rennon saw was the lich trying to intercede the Lora Daine. The last vision he saw was Dorenn’s startled face as he collapsed to the ground before him.

  With a snap of light and a shudder of the earth below them, Shey, Gondrial, Seancey, Vesperin, and Trendan appeared before Naneden just as Rennon and his men left.

  “Shey!” the lich rasped. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  Shey looked around, but only the dead mindwielders remained. There was no sign of Rennon.

  “You have given me a great gift,” Naneden said. He raised his hands, and the mindwielders began to rise from their deaths.

  “Oh no! Don’t do this, Naneden,” Shey pleaded. “I’ll do anything you say.”

  “My darling, I am afraid that ship has sailed. It’s too late to turn back now. Now, at last you see, don’t you? My plans are unfolding before your eyes. I am unstoppable. For one thousand seasons, I have been preparing for this.”

  “I told you he planned it,” Gondrial said.

  Seancey nodded. “You called it.”

  Naneden’s sunken eyes smoldered. “Still joking in the face of danger.”

  “The ugly face of danger. You’ve looked better, Rikard,” Gondrial said.

  “Stop it, Gondrial. Stop joking,” Shey scolded.

  Gondrial leaned toward Trendan. “I wasn’t joking that time.”

  Naneden pointed the skull of his staff at Gondrial, and the wisecracking wielder flew backward. “How fitting. You killed me and now I get to kill you all.”

  “Lady Shey, cast that spell again and get out of here!” Vesperin said. He brandished his staff of Loracia. “By the goddess of light and life, I banish you!” The staff actually cried out, a screeching, hateful cry. White light poured out of it. The undead mindwielders cried out as Naneden fell to the ground, a black cloud engulfing him. “Go!” Vesperin shouted at Shey.

  “Quick,
to me,” she said. Gondrial made his way to her, and Trendan joined hands with Seancey. Shey reached out and touched Vesperin’s shoulder. Her fingers burned in the light of the intense fire, but she held on. “You’re coming too,” she said.

  “No!” Vesperin said as he let the light spell die.

  The last thing Trendan saw before he was transported was Naneden standing up from the black cloud, casting something, presumably to stop them.

  Chapter 24: Lingering Doubts

  Tatrice reached for the drink before her on the bar. Fayne raised hers next to her, and they clinked the glass of the two drinks together. Deylia sat down on the other side of Tatrice, and Tatrice pushed a small glass of amber liquid in front of her.

  “Thank you,” she said. ‘What is it?”

  “Corn mash liquor,” Fayne slurred. “Fastest way to get drunk I can remember.”

  “We made something similar to this when I was in Ishrak on the Plain of Storms.” Deylia downed it and made a refreshed sound as she put the glass back on the bar. “But ours was much stronger. Some of the afflicted really wanted to dull their minds.” Tatrice pointed to the glasses, and the barkeep poured them all new drinks.

  “We had her,” Tatrice said. “She was right in my sight, and I let her go.”

  Fayne put her hand on Tatrice’s back. “You didn’t let her go. She escaped.”

  “And killed a whole family of farmers afterward!”

  “Shhh.” Fayne put her index finger over Tatrice’s mouth. “You will get us in trouble.”

  Tatrice took another shot. “You’re right. Shhh.”

  Deylia took another drink and smiled cheerfully, the liquor seeming to have no effect on her at all. “Maybe you two should slow down on the corn liquor.”

  “You should drink more!” Fayne said. “You are way too sober.” She pointed to Deylia’s glass, and the barkeep poured her another.

  “You know, this place has some really spectacular bathhouses. I remember visiting them not long after we left Brookhaven with Lady Shey. I was so in love with Dorenn back then,” Tatrice slurred.