A Trial of Souls

by Brian D. Anderson

  The soldiers made way for him as Gewey spurred his horse to a quick trot. At the vanguard he saw Kaylia, Aaliyah, Nehrutu, and King Lousis. He had hoped to have Lord Chiron and Lady Bellisia riding with him as well, but they had both decided to march alongside their kinfolk.

  The elf army would be in front and the humans used to reinforce them should the lines break. As he rode along, Gewey noticed the differences between the two allied forces. The humans wore heavy steel plate and carried thick broadswords and large square bronze shields. In contrast, the elves wore light leather, long thin swords, and only those on the front line carried small round wooden shields.

  The cavalry was made up entirely of humans, mostly men from Althetas, though a few were from the other kingdoms. Their armor was even heavier than the infantry’s, and they carried long, steel-tipped spears.

  That Gewey insisted on such a quick departure had sent the generals into a frenzy. Though none said it directly, he knew they thought him a fool. But it was clear they had already waited too long. Scouts had been sent ahead, though the army would most likely be nearly there before any of them returned with information. The only thing he could hope to learn was whether King Halmara marched on Althetas or Valshara.

  King Lousis had supported Gewey’s decision when he’d arrived the day before: mostly because he was afraid for his people. Thanks to his strong leadership and Lord Chiron’s experience in the Great War, they accomplished in days what should have taken weeks. Fortunately, the wagons carrying construction materials had arrived a week earlier, and were able to be loaded with provisions from the temple.

  His guard fell back as he approached Kaylia and the king.

  King Lousis was clad in finely woven chainmail, on top of which he’d donned gleaming steel plate with the crest of his city displayed proudly across the chest.

  Kaylia wore deep green elven leather armor with a long knife attached to her belt on each hip. Her hair was braided and wrapped tightly. Gewey thought she looked every inch a warrior, and a beautiful one at that.

  Gewey bowed his head to the king. “We march on your command, your highness.”

  Lousis bowed in return, grinning boyishly. Drawing his sword, he held it aloft. The air became still and quiet; for a moment or two the only thing that could be heard was the soft rustling of banners and the snorting and stamping of horses.

  His voice then thundered over the field. “Now let Angrääl tremble in fear at our wrath! To war!” The army erupted once again, with the name of Darshan ringing out everywhere. The king turned his horse and slowly the army began to move forward.

  “How far is it to Skalhalis?” asked Gewey.

  “Three days to the city,” replied Lousis. “But if they are heading to Althetas, we may be pressed to catch them.”

  Gewey nodded. “I thank you for your help. If you hadn’t arrived when you did...”

  “If I hadn’t arrived when I did,” interrupted Lousis, “there is a chance my city would be besieged and undefended. It is I who should thank you. You are the one who urged immediate action. If it were left up to the generals and nobles we would still be sitting on our backsides.”

  Gewey laughed. When meeting the king two days earlier he’d liked him at once, and it appeared the feeling was mutual. Lousis had not been present at the receiving hall when he’d unleashed the flow of the spirit, and as a result, Gewey found that he was more comfortable with the king than with most of the others at the temple. He knew Lousis’ kindness and good nature was genuine, rather than a result of the flow’s influence.

  “You can thank Lord Chiron more than me,” said Gewey. “That he fought in the Great War carried a lot of weight with the commanders. His insistence that I was correct went far to sway them. Not to mention that he knew how to organize the army quickly.”

  “I know,” said Lousis. “He told me that he once marched with fifty thousand elves, with only a single day to muster.” He shook his head with a slight smile. “How humans ever defeated them, I cannot imagine.”

  “The human armies of old were vast and powerful,” interjected Kaylia. “I read many accounts of the battles when I was a child. Their generals became quite adept at anticipating elf tactics.” She flashed a wicked grin. “Angrääl will not have that advantage.”

  By midday the sky was overcast and a bitter chill was in the air. Ertik joined them for a short time before returning to a mixed unit of Amon Dahl knights and Althetan soldiers. Gewey smiled at the fact that he had removed the ridiculous armor, and now wore just a set of simple leathers with a short sword at his side.

  Shortly after Ertik withdrew, Gewey spotted a man on a horse riding hard straight for them. As the rider neared he recognized him as one of the scouts the king had sent.

  “Your highness,” said the scout, his voice urgent. “The armies of Skalhalis are heading this way.”

  “Are you certain?” asked Lousis.

  “I am,” he replied. “Fifty-thousand infantry and a thousand heavy cavalry. They’ll be upon you in less than a day.”

  Lousis immediately ordered a halt and called for the generals and elf commanders. After a map was laid on the rocky ground, they all gathered around while the scout showed them from where Halmara approached.

  As the scout pointed to their location, Chiron smiled broadly.

  “What is it?” asked Lousis.

  “They have numbers,” Chiron replied. “But clearly whoever commands has no notion of elf tactics.” He pointed north and south of the enemy’s position. “On either side there is flat, even terrain.” He moved his finger to the middle and drew invisible lines. “They march in straight line formations, with heavy horse in front and bowmen at the rear in order to overwhelm our inferior numbers. Which means they intend to shoot volleys of arrows into our ranks until we are forced to advance our outnumbered cavalry. Once the cavalry is defeated, their horsemen will then withdraw and attempt to flank us while their infantry presses us back.”

  The generals nodded in agreement.

  “And what does this have to do with elf tactics?” asked Lousis.

  Chiron smiled and glanced back at his kin. “This is the same mistake the human armies made when the Great War began.” He stood tall. “An elf army is not a brute force. It is swift death. The moment they are in sight, we can divide our ranks and flank them before they know what has happened. The heavy horse only need occupy the enemy long enough for us to engage. By the time they figure out what we have done, their left and right flanks will be decimated. The flat terrain will increase our speed and make it impossible for them to adjust in time.”

  Lousis laughed heartily. “A bloody fine strategy.” He reached out and squeezed Chiron’s shoulder fondly. “If this works, we will lose few men.”

  Gewey stepped forward. “I do not want the cavalry to engage.”

  “But...” began the king.

  “Forgive me, your highness,” said Gewey, cutting him off. “But I promised that the enemy would see my wrath, and I intend it to be so. Once the elves split off, I will show them the true meaning of power.” He looked at Chiron. “When I’m done, you will only need to keep them from escaping.” His voice rumbled and his eyes were fire.

  “And if the Vrykol attack?” asked Kaylia.

  “Then, and only then, does the cavalry move,” he replied. “Keep them at bay until I have done what needs to be done.”

  “And what is that?” asked Chiron.

  A wreath of flame erupted just above his head. “I will burn them all.” He felt Kaylia’s hand touching his arm and allowed the flame to disappear. The rage had begun to fill him again. The hatred. He looked into Kaylia’s eyes and calmed his spirit.

  King Lousis stared in disbelief. “I was told of this power. It was witnessed by the council at my home. But to see it for myself…”

  Kaylia took Gewey’s hand. “I need to speak with you privately.”

  Gewey followed her for a few yards until they were just out of earshot. He could feel her concern throu
gh their bond. “There is nothing to worry about,” he told her.

  Kaylia placed her hands on his cheeks, cradling his face. “Your anger keeps building, and each time with less prompting. I fear you may lose control.”

  Gewey nodded. “I fear it as well. But there is not much that I can do. I told you…I’m changing.”

  “Changing into what?” she asked. “I would not see you completely become Darshan.”

  He took her hands and kissed them gently. “The part of me that is Darshan loves you just as much as the part of me that is Gewey. But I promise to be careful.”

  Kaylia smiled. “I will hold you to that.”

  The commanders passed on the battle plan to their troops, and soon after they were underway. Gewey could feel his anxiety increasing as they came ever closer to the enemy. He thought back on the stories of ancient battles his father would tell him as a child, and of the great heroes who fought. He wondered if someday stories would be told of this battle. How would he be remembered? As a warrior and savior, or as a bringer of death and destruction?

  By late afternoon Gewey could sense the approaching army and focused on finding the Vrykol. Finally, he felt their foul presence spread throughout the ranks.

  “The men we face are afraid,” he said. The words were out before he even realized he had spoken.

  King Lousis laughed. “Such a battle has not been fought in many generations. I doubt anyone is without fear on this day.”

  As the enemy came near, Lousis raised his arm. In response a trumpet sounded, calling for a halt. The banners of Angrääl flew high and the glint of steel and polished leather glimmered even in the dim light of the overcast sky. Their lines were twice as long, and much deeper too. Led by the cavalry, they moved like a great lumbering behemoth.

  “I hope you can do what you say,” whispered the king to Gewey. “Or I’m afraid that even our elf allies will be of little help.”

  Gewey flashed a confident smile and dismounted. Aaliyah, Nehrutu, and Kaylia followed close behind as he strode out several yards beyond their lines. The elves had already begun to move into position, splitting their numbers into two smaller groups.

  From the enemy lines, four men began making their way to the center of the field. They were carrying a red banner with a broad white stripe diagonally across it.

  “It means they wish a parley,” said Kaylia.

  Gewey nodded. “Then let us meet our foe.” He waited for King Lousis to join them and then started out.

  Two soldiers in heavy plate armor with the broken scales sigil across their breastplate stood as guards, each holding a tall banner. In the middle left was a man in superbly crafted gold plate armor; a great eagle gripping a fish in its talons emblazoned across his chest. A long rapier with a gold hilt crowned by a large sapphire hung at his side, and a thin gold band sat atop his wrinkled brow. Despite his splendid attire, his aging features gave him a ragged appearance, and his eyes were vacant and lifeless.

  The man next to him was, in stark contrast, youthful and strong. His black curling hair was oiled and pushed back. Instead of armor, he was dressed in a fine light-tan linen shirt and black pants. A long, thin blade hung from a polished black belt, and his black leather boots looked as if they had never felt the touch of the road. He stepped forward, at the same time flashing a friendly smile. “Greetings.” His voice was smooth and cultured.

  Lousis ignored him. “King Halmara. I see that not only have you given over your kingdom to Angrääl without a fight, you also now allow others to speak for you.”

  Halmara refused to meet Lousis’ eyes. “I have given nothing. Yanti speaks on behalf of the Reborn King.”

  “So you are Yanti,” said Gewey, steel in his voice. “I was hoping to meet you before I destroy your army and send you to the afterlife.”

  “Ah,” said Yanti. “Gewey Stedding, I presume. Or do you prefer Darshan?”

  “It doesn’t matter what name you use,” said Gewey. “I just wanted you to see the instrument of your doom. Savor your final moments, because by the time the sun sets, I will kill you and hang your mangled body from the walls of Valshara.” He stepped forward, his face only inches away from Yanti’s. “But before I do, you will watch your people die, and your master’s hope for conquest disappear.”

  Yanti was unmoved. “I see you are every bit the young godling: fierce and powerful. It is a shame you have chosen to ally yourself with this sad lot. If only your wisdom matched your heart.”

  The ground began to shake as Gewey drew in the flow. His anger swelled, threatening to burst forth. “We shall see who is wise when I am bathing in your blood.”

  “Perhaps,” said Yanti. “But before you do, I think there is something you should see.” He waved his hand in the air. From the Angrääl lines, two soldiers came forward at a quick jog.

  Even in armor and helm, Gewey recognized them at once. “Killian? Chancy? What the hell are you doing here?” There stood Killian Hedgpath and Chancy Jerrison - from Sharpstone. He had grown up with both boys. Up until the death of his father, after which his full attention was needed to run the farm, he had spent many hours in their company.

  “Gewey?” they said in unison.

  Yanti held out his hand, silencing them. “I just thought you should know exactly who it is you will be slaughtering.”

  “How many of you are there?” Gewey asked, looking at Killian. They had been close as children.

  Killian looked nervously at Yanti, who nodded his consent. “There are twenty of us from back home.”

  “How in blazes did you end up here?” asked Gewey. He glared at Yanti, who simply smiled in return.

  Killian swallowed hard. “They came to Sharpstone not long after you and Lee left. They told us we could see the world - and that the pay was good. Three times what we make back home. I didn’t know...”

  “That’s enough,” said Yanti. “Return to your posts.”

  The two boys hesitated for a moment, but a quick glance from Yanti sent them running.

  “And what do you think is going to happen now?” asked Gewey. “Do you imagine we’ll just turn around and go home because you parade my childhood friends in front of me?”

  “Not at all” Yanti replied. “I merely wanted you to understand the cost of war, and the reach of my master. By now, your little village belongs to him, along with all of its inhabitants. Their fate is now tied to that of Angrääl. And no matter how powerful you are, before this war ends, you will lose everything you hold dear.” He stepped back and shook his head. “Is it really worth it? Through the power of the Reborn King, you have the ability to save all those you love. Why will you not understand this?”

  “At least you admit it’s a war,” remarked Lousis with disgust.

  “Of course it’s a war,” said Yanti. “But not with you. And not with your people. It is you who are making it so. This is a war against the lies told by the gods. The Reborn King merely seeks to free people from their yoke so that they may live as equals, unburdened by fear and petty hatreds.”

  Gewey stared silently at Yanti for nearly a full minute, then burst out laughing. “The silver tongue you possess has turned to brass. I think you did not expect me to be here. You thought I was still in the desert. And if you imagine it’s wise to tell a god that you wish to destroy the gods, then your stupidity is laughable.” He stepped forward, putting his face right into Yanti’s. For the first time Yanti looked uneasy. “I am not the boy who left Sharpstone. And if needs be, I will not hesitate to kill those from my village who have joined you.” He moved forward again, forcing Yanti to step back a pace. “I have finished wasting my time with you. Run. Run now, or die where you stand.”

  Yanti glared furiously. Then, regaining his composure, he bowed. “Come, your highness. It appears this parley is concluded.”

  Gewey watched as they walked quickly back to their lines.

  “Are you all right?” asked Kaylia.

  Gewey looked at her and smiled. His eyes glowed with p
ower and his body filled with the flow. “I am perfect,” he said. He turned to the king. “You should go, your highness. I would ask you to protect Kaylia, but as I know she will refuse to leave my side…”

  Kaylia grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight. “I knew you were becoming a wiser man.”

  “Aaliyah and I will remain as well,” said Nehrutu. “Should the Vrykol attack, we may be needed.”

  Gewey nodded and drew his sword. The familiar heat felt comforting in his hand; the flow of earth and air increased tenfold. Thousands of elf voices screaming their battle cries erupted behind him.

  At that moment, thousands of arrows from Angrääl bows came streaking across the sky in a high arc like a cloud of death. Gewey grinned viciously and raised his sword above his head. A ferocious blast of wind spun into a massive vortex that rose up to meet the attack. Stopped in mid-flight, the arrows scattered like straw, tumbling down and littering the field between the two armies. The Angrääl soldiers shifted uneasily, sending out a spike of their fear into Gewey’s mind. He smiled with satisfaction.

  With astonishing speed, the elves were already halfway across the ground separating them from both Angrääl flanks. Gewey took a moment to marvel that so many could move in unison at such speed. Another volley of arrows from the enemy shot skyward, but Gewey blasted it again, this time with even greater force.

  Now the Angrääl horseman began to advance. In response, Gewey closed his eyes and the earth began to tremble. With an almighty roar, a massive ball of flame at least thirty feet in diameter burst into life. The charging horses immediately slowed, but Gewey moved the fireball rapidly toward them. It exploded outward with an ear-shattering boom. At least half of the soldiers and horses were instantly engulfed and burned alive. The rest scattered in a desperate attempt to flee back to their own lines. Gewey roasted as many as he could before they disappeared within the infantry.

  Rage like he never thought possible filled Gewey’s spirit. He could see that the elves had already reached both sides of the enemy force, who suddenly realizing the threat, were hastily turning to engage them. Gewey stepped forward and sent another ball of flame crashing into the enemy lines. Screams of horror carried over the field. Gewey was pleased.