Legends of Marithia: Book 3 - Talonsphere

by Peter Koevari

  Fucking wolves! Adela thought.

  Kassina sprang into action, launching like a tiger on her prey, and Adela watched her through watery eyes. Her daggers remained in her trembling hands, ready in case any of them got too close.

  Why does everything around me move so slowly?

  For the first time in her life, she knew what panic truly meant.

  The closest man swung his sword over his head and it came crashing down into Kassina’s left blade, before the dark queen shoved her other sword upward into the man’s skull. The tip poked out of his hair and was covered in brain matter. Adela’s stomach churned as the man let out a sickening groan. As he fell, Kassina jerked the sword out, then swung left to slice through the throat of another man, twisting out of the way of another’s blade. Kassina’s helm snapped left as Adela heard footsteps of men behind her. Kassina charged toward Adela and leapt into the air as the girl dropped to her hands and knees. She heard what sounded like boars connecting above her and Kassina landed hard beside her.

  Adela rolled out of the way of a man trying to grab her, and their leader was making his way to her. Kassina engaged three men at the same time, her blades flying through the air as if they were as light as feathers. She plunged a blade through the leather chest plate of an attacker and grunted as she blocked the sword of the other. The third man managed to cut the underworld queen’s helm, sparks flying off it in response. Adela watched as Kassina clenched her left fist and rammed it into the man’s face, his body becoming airborne before crashing into the ground. She tore out the sword from the man’s chest and spun to avoid another blade coming at her mid-section. Kassina knelt to let the third man fall on her blade. She plunged the other through his crotch. His screams made the other men wince and their faces pale.

  Adela ran toward Kassina as the last three men joined their leader in grabbing at her clothes. Adela slashed widely at their hands, managing to catch a man’s flesh before screaming. Like an angel, Kassina ran at the men with readied swords, sidestepping around her.

  Their leader put a hand up and yelled, “Wait!”

  Kassina said, “Too late.”

  She launched a flying kick that connected with one man’s face, her body landing on top of his, before she used both swords to cut his head off at the throat. Kassina rolled off him to engage their leader’s blades. They blocked each other with neither finding flesh, before she slashed through the air around him, her movements too fast to see the blurred blade. She rolled back to stand beside Adela with her weapons at her side.

  Their leader flinched as blood spluttered over his face, and his remaining companions’ bellies and throats tore open. They choked as they fell to the ground, clutching their wounds.

  “How sure are you now, fucker? Come on then and try to get a hold of her, if you can,” Kassina said, her voice overshadowing the dying men.

  “Well? You’re not afraid of a weak little wench, are you?” Kassina said.

  Adela looked over to the dying man and saw him writing around in agony, holding his crotch, his blood soaking through his clothes. The rest remained motionless. Adela couldn’t believe how fierce Kassina’s abilities were, having completely forgotten about heat or hunger. She breathed heavily as she surveyed their surroundings, lowering her daggers. The former leader backed away, keeping his hip swords drawn.

  Kassina glanced back at Adela, imitating cutting a head off, before snapping her attention back to the man.

  When Adela saw Kassina’s helm, she saw that it had been damaged. The glass was broken and it had split at the front. Sunlight had already touched her, and Kassina was unaffected. Adela was confused as she thought that light would kill vampires. Kassina must have also known this as she smoothly removed her helm and dropped it by her side. Her hair stuck to her sweat-covered skin and she smiled with pearly white fangs.

  She snarled at the man and spat out her words. “Kassina, at your service.”

  The man swallowed hard and stuttered, “I,-I—I’m sorry and beg your forgiveness, great queen.”

  “Let me guess, if you only knew, then you wouldn’t have tried to rape her and discard her like chicken bones?”

  He knelt in front of Kassina and dropped his swords between them, lowering his head. The dying man tried to get up, one hand on his crotch. Kassina plunged her sword into his cranium before slamming him back down again. She wiped her blades on his clothes and approached the kneeling man. Kassina looked at the sun and shook her head.

  “I don’t know how this is happening, but it is an interesting turn of events. I haven’t felt sun on my face for far too many years,” she said.

  Turning back to the man, she approached him with her swords drawn, but Adela had her own ideas. The girl threw the daggers to the ground and charged at his side, ramming her boot into his stomach, as hard as her body allowed her. “Fuck you!”

  She didn’t realise her own power as the man flew into the air, landing hard on his back. Yelling through gritted teeth, she knelt on his chest and unleashed a flurry of blows on his face.

  “Don’t you ever try that again!” she said, her fists aching and bleeding.

  Her chest puffed as she looked down on the man. His face fared worse than her knuckles, and for that she felt glad, but what scared her more than anything was that she was capable of this. She rose to her feet and turned to see Kassina holding a sword by the blade and the hilt dangling in front of her, the other readied in case the man tried anything. The look the queen gave her couldn’t be mistaken. She was proud of her.

  The man begged for his life, telling them stories of his starving children and a family that she guessed he never had in the first place. Her heart combated with her mind.

  “I never knew you had that in you. His fate is yours,” Kassina said.

  Me either.

  Adela grabbed the heavy blade with both blood-covered hands, tears streaming down her face as she approached him.

  “Why did you have to do this? Why didn’t you just leave?” Adela said.

  “I’ll go right now and never return. Please, let me live,” the man said.

  Kassina circled around them both, watching them carefully. Her voice was calm. “What if they had succeeded, Adela, do you think they’d have let you go? Would they have showed you mercy?”

  “I-I don’t know what to do. I can’t kill him like this, but I can’t let him leave,” Adela said, her voice breaking.

  Kassina looked through the home’s windows, narrowing her eyes as she looked deeper into them. Adela thought it unlikely that there were more of them. She was torn, her thoughts like stallions charging, out of control.

  “Get on your hands and knees!” Adela said.

  “Please...” he said, before Kassina put a firm boot into his side.

  “Do as she says!”

  The man complied and as Adela stared into his eyes, she saw into the man’s soul. The fear was real, but so was the monster inside. She just knew that given the chance, he would run them both through.

  Adela snarled at him as she smashed the hilt of the sword into his back. “Get down!”

  She walked over to pick up one of the shiny daggers and made her way behind him.

  “Adela, there is a girl in that cottage. She looks no older than twelve,” Kassina said.

  Adela’s stomach churned. “Is she still alive?”

  Kassina shook her head slowly. “You don’t want to see what is left of her.”

  Adela tasted bile as she dry retched. She shook as she returned her attention to the man. “You like to rape little girls, do you? Let me ask you, how many girls have you already broken and left as a bleeding mess?” Adela said.

  The man turned slowly to look at her. The plot of fear washed away from him as he scowled. “If you’re going to kill me, then just fucking kill me... If you’ve got the stomach for it.”

  She rose the dagger high before burying it into his right buttock. He screamed out as she yelled in his ear, “Answer me! How many?”

 
; “Damn you! Far more than I can remember and each one of the little whores loved every minute of it!”

  Adela felt her body shake and she screamed as she kicked the hilt of the embedded dagger, sending it deeper into his body with a splatter of blood. She held her blade with both hands as she cried out and swung it over her head, using every ounce of her strength to bring it crashing down into his neck, her growl turning to a scream. It cut part way into his neck, and blood burst upward from the wound. She swung again, finishing the job. Decapitating this monster brought her no pleasure, but relief washed over her. His body fell to the ground and she watched the life leave the man’s eyes.

  She dropped the blade to the ground and stepped back from him with wide eyes staring at her bloodied hands. “Wha, what did I just do?”

  She nearly jumped out of her skin as Kassina lay a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You did the right thing. Come on, I will look after you. Let’s see what rations they have.”

  Adela sniffled as tears rose in her eyes. They were both startled by the sound of a battle horn echoing over the lands. Kassina grabbed her hand and led her around the house.

  “That came from Crondor,” Kassina said.

  As they rounded the corner, they stopped at the sight before them. The army marched, far in the distance, toward a long line of women and men standing in front of Crondor. It was hard to see who they were, but the tower of a man leading the legions of skeleton warriors could not be mistaken. It could only be the feared one they spoke of in Grenlees taverns.

  “Is that...” Adela said.

  “Shindar, the betrayer. And if the energy I feel from Crondor is right, then he is joining what looks to be a demon army. He finally walks the lands. Things are getting ever more complicated.” Kassina said, pursing her lips.

  Chapter 18 : Deep Connections

  “Our lives are spent chasing dreams. We think we know what we want for ourselves, but in the end, it matters little.

  There is a moment in everyone’s journey when they realise that they have lived their purpose. What lies ahead is a finality of what must be, even if the cards of fate have been altered.

  The question we must ask ourselves is: Do we truly know what fate has intended for us?”

  (Kai’En - Marithian Seer)

  Vartan opened his eyes to birds chirping outside, drawing a deep breath and reaching over for Helenia, but finding nobody there. He remembered the grim reality of what had taken place. Once Vartan had allowed his emotions to flow, the resulting pain could not be stopped. The queen had held him through the night. After so many years, he remembered what it was like to have a mother again. He had been robbed of a reunion with his real mother, who he hadn’t seen since obtaining his knighthood. His whole adult life had been to serve the crown. Now, his purpose was so much more.

  He had woken in only his underclothes, covered in a warm blanket, and with a note on their nearby table. Holding the parchment, he smiled as he read it.

  Meet you in the throne room, when you are ready, my son.

  It was a sweet gesture. Although nothing could mend his broken heart, he could ill afford to stay in bed and weep.

  His stomach growled as he donned his armour. He noticed that Helenia’s dress had been removed, as had the damage he had inflicted.

  I must have been truly exhausted.

  Approaching his window, he drew a deep breath before opening it, savouring the cool wind as he looked over the surrounding war-torn lands. As a child, he had always looked on Greenhaven as a shining jewel in the distance that he could never touch. It was back in the hands of Marithians, and he would not let it fall.

  My time to realise my destiny is coming. I can feel it in my bones.

  He made his way to the door, collecting his resting sword from the brick wall. He admired its blade before sheathing it. Vartan sighed as he saw the plate of food on the floor, realising why he couldn’t smell the poached eggs and smoked fish. The day had worn on in his absence, and the meal had cooled.

  He had learned from a young age to never waste food, and this would be no exception. He enjoyed the cold breakfast, stretching his shoulders as he chewed. He was sore, but otherwise ready for battle. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he placed his other on the door.

  “Helenia. Everything I do from here will honour our love,” he said.

  His eye twitched, but he clenched his jaw and opened the door, making his way toward the throne room. Walking the corridors, he nodded toward the many Marithians greeting him along the way. He passed a few windows, peering out to see the many workers and dragons busy with rebuilding. A twinge of guilt passed through him, but he knew that he had far greater tasks ahead of him.

  Karven’s voice entered his mind. I sense you up and about. I am sorry for your loss, as she is a loss to all of us. Her death will be avenged.

  Thank you, Great Dragon King. Her death will stand for something, as will that of all fallen Marithians.

  Spoken like a true King, Karven said.

  Vartan reached the doors to the throne room, nodding as the stationed guards stepped aside. “Good to see you, Prince Vartan.”

  “And you. Stay vigilant.”

  He pushed the doors open, leaving them to shut behind him as he approached the throne. He stopped mid-way to face Queen Andrielle, dropping to one knee.

  This is where this war began for me, Vartan thought.

  He looked around the room, remembering when he faced his king, queen, and their two children. Dusty beams of vivid yellow light glowed from many holes in the stained glass windows, as if they were lit from the heavens. Intricate furniture had been shifted and damaged, but remained intact. Beautifully painted walls remained untouched, providing an air of elegance to Greenhaven’s royal quarters. Great statues of heroes throughout the ages remained, but one of the dragon statues had broken into two pieces. Statues of powerful warlocks, armoured knights and a dragon remained neatly arranged in the corners of the room.

  Andrielle wore one of her pink royal dresses. The dress’s silk matched the rubies adorned along its leaf-like cuffs and collar. She remained a beautiful woman, even with her new facial scar. She smiled at him. “Rise, Prince Vartan, forget old courtesies between us. You are our prince now. Come, sit with me. We have important matters to discuss.”

  She reached over and tapped the throne beside her, where King Arman once sat. “This is your place now, while you remain in Greenhaven.”

  Vartan rose to his feet, making his way to the throne. He noticed that Helenia’s crown lay on her seat. His eyes widened.

  “Her crown shall sit in her place, and serve as a reminder of what we fight for, and to honour her memory. I could not find Arman’s,” she said.

  Vartan’s heart thumped as he eased himself onto the late king’s throne. “Damn thieves. The city is ours now. It shall not fall again.”

  He wanted to share his experience with Helenia, with her mother, but he did not know how to explain it, and for all he knew, Helenia may have reached out to her too.

  Andrielle nodded. “We will make sure it doesn’t, my son. You are all the family I have left now, and we’ve both experienced the surprises that tomorrow can bring. For today, I want us to rule the way we will once this war is over. Let our people bring their grievances to us. We need a sense of normality. Of course, that will take place once we are done.”

  Vartan went to speak, then closed his mouth and smiled.

  “I know you are eager to continue with your quest, your destiny, to save Marithia. I don’t blame you. While you have been resting, news has come to light. Given the change in circumstances, we may be facing another battle far sooner than expected,” Andrielle said.

  He wanted to know more, then found himself speechless at the sight on the nearest stained glass window. A black winged butterfly, the size of his hand, rested on one of its larger holes. The beam of light flickered as it beat its wings. Although he couldn’t hear her voice, he felt her presence.

  Helenia.
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  He sat up straight, a hopeful smile spreading across his face.

  Andrielle looked to the window, but the butterfly had already left. She stared at him. “Are you all right?”

  “I-I’m sorry. What news?”

  Andrielle paused to sip from a metal goblet, then stared into it as she swirled the contents. “I had a dream once that I would wake from this nightmare. Little did I know that the jaws of the monster would be snapping at our heels at every turn. The town of Crondor, do you know of it?”

  “Our farm was near Crondor, but we were always forbidden to go there. Father spoke of horrors there, and that it was never safe. I had never stepped foot inside it, even in my many years serving you.”

  “Neither have I. The town was under the crown’s protection. A single rider arrived to seek our help, but we had our hands full at the time. We lost many of our soldiers to Crondor. By the time our men were free to ride, dragons had already reported that it was too late.”

  “Was it vampires? Shindar’s skeleton warriors?”

  “No, much worse.”

  Vartan leaned toward the queen. “What can be worse?”

  “It was an army of demons.”

  “Surely, they must have been mistaken. Demons have never had a sense of order. We have encountered many of them, but they like to be isolated from each other.”

  Andrielle passed a second goblet to him. “I had the same thoughts, but it appears that there is a leader among them. This demon answers to Shindar, who now walks the lands, in daylight.”

  Vartan nearly dropped his goblet as his eyes widened at the news. “He’s already in Marithia?”

  “It is so. Our dragons spotted them at daybreak, and it is only a matter of time before he makes a move. It surprises me that he hasn’t already. I was also enlightened to learn that Kassina was not spotted among his armies.”

  He couldn’t believe that he was allowed to sleep while Shindar made his way toward Greenhaven. “And you didn’t wake me?”