Path of Fire (Saga of The Wolf Book 3)

by Kris A Hiatt

  Some of Shamir’s men ran from the sight, and many others decided to move further away from the advance of Treace’s group. But, there were still many others who weren’t afraid to close the distance between them.

  Primain noticed Treace’s group then, and began giving orders to move in their direction. They didn’t have as much resistance, so Treace hoped they’d have any easier time getting to them.

  Treace didn’t want to risk going back into The Calm another time, the advancing men were too close. He couldn’t risk being caught with his eyes closed trying to use magic. It was great at a distance, but the concentration needed to utilize the magic made him easy prey for anyone within melee range. Besides that, he was starting to feel mentally and emotionally fatigued. He’d never felt that way before after using magic, but then again, he’d never burned men alive before today either. He wondered if it was from using two components at once or if it was simply from using Path of Fire differently than before.

  “Keep shooting!” Raythien ordered.

  “Griffeth!” Treace yelled, getting the woman’s attention. “Guard them,” he instructed, pointing at Kelvrin and Heral.

  She nodded her understanding and stood in front of the two men with her staff held over her shoulder.

  “Focus on those closest to Primain and his men, not us,” Treace told the magic users.

  With his orders given, Treace pulled his swords from their scabbards and walked forward to meet Shamir’s forces. He singled out the man who had the most confident stride and angled for him. Just before Treace got there, though, his opponent burst into flames.

  Treace chanced a quick look behind him to see Magister Kelvrin give him a quick nod. Treace pointed to the area near where Primain’s men were, but he turned back around without ensuring that Kelvrin acknowledged or even saw his instructions.

  “I love you,” Kiril said from next to him.

  It seemed to him that it would be an odd place and time for the remark, but it seemed to ring well in his ear. The thought that she might be saying it in the event that she would never get to say it again never crossed him mind. “And I you, my love,” he replied as he stuck his sword into the chest of the burning man as he passed. The smell of burning leather and flesh assaulted his nose. He ignored it.

  A man rushed to meet Kiril then, apparently thinking she’d be easier to fight than him. The man might have misjudged his own abilities a bit when one of Kiril’s armored punches sent him crashing into the snow with a broken jaw. She jumped on top of him and slammed her fist into his forehead. Treace winced when he heard the man’s skull crack.

  As soon as her punch connected, she was up and on to the next foe in line. She was a force to be reckoned with all on her own.

  Treace focused on his own enemy, who had closed most of the distance to him and was sizing him up. Treace didn’t bother slowing. He juked to his left and slid hard to his right, faking the man out. It left an opening that Treace was quick to exploit. He stabbed in hard with his right sword, bringing his left one up in a defensive posture in front of him. He didn’t need to. The man’s attack never even got close. Treace felt his attack connect and knew it drove up, between the ribs, to find the man’s heart.

  That enemy slumped to the ground.

  Arrows whizzed by his head, and enemies continued to fall.

  Treace ducked an attack from a running enemy and simply continued on. Treace didn’t bother turning around to fight him, knowing the archers would make quick work of that one.

  Kiril incapacitated two more while Treace made quick work of three. He realized then that if they lived through this, they’d have to modify her weapons. They were great for dazing and stunning an enemy, but it was difficult to finish one off with a single strike. He thought Smith would have a way to improve the design to add a blade of some sort to one of them.

  Treace narrowly avoided a sword that came flying in at him. He was distracted by Kiril and her weapons and didn’t notice that the man had fully advanced on him. He regained his focus and set his sights on his new enemy.

  “I nearly had you, Wolf,” the man spat through his grin.

  “So you know who I am then?” Treace asked, slashing in at the man with his left sword, stepping to his right as he did so, putting Kiril directly behind his adversary.

  “I do,” the man replied, moving to Treace’s left as he replied. “And I’m going to be the one to kill you.”

  The man was violently launched forward then, flying through the air with his arms flailing before finally crashing to the ground.

  Treace stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding being taken down by the flying body.

  “Doubt it, asshole,” Kiril told the man she had assaulted with a single punch to the back of the head.

  Treace kicked the man over and finished him off.

  “Not even a thanks?” Kiril asked as she spun to find another foe.

  “I set you up for it,” Treace replied.

  “Ingrate,” she muttered.

  Treace knew that he and Moff shared an uncanny ability to find humor in situations that others rarely understood, but the quick exchange that he and Kiril just shared had seemed even more at home than that.

  Kiril knocked another off of his feet, while Treace cut down another two.

  The ranks around Primain were thinning, mostly thanks to the dozen or so bodies that lay smoldering on the ground near to where Primain and his men were fighting. The enemies around those bodies seemed less eager to fight at that point in time. Not that Treace blamed them for it. But if he didn’t take advantage of that quickly, it may be for naught. Treace already noticed the time between magical attacks had lengthened. He wondered how long it would be before the opposition noticed it as well, if they hadn’t already. He also wondered how long the magical assaults would continue. Heral and Kelvrin had to be feeling the same fatigue that he did, most likely to a larger extent considering the number of times they used the magic.

  “We need more,” Kiril informed him.

  She was right. They did need more. The problem was that he didn’t know where that was going to come from. The magical fires from Heral and Kelvrin were quickly diminishing, and surely the archers had to be running out of arrows. They needed another large push if they were to get to Primain. It was a miracle that he and his small force had held out for as long as they had. Surely they were exhausted from all the fighting they’d done until this point. Treace reminded himself that the body finds ways to keep going when it needs to. He knew that first hand from his capture at the hands of Jass not so many months ago.

  He thought of what else could be done. A quick look back to Exodin gave him the answer. Another of Drevic’s barriers shimmered over Exodin’s skin. “Can you put a barrier over the both of us?” he asked Kiril. “One so that I can move freely?”

  “You know I can,” she replied after parrying a sword attack.

  “I mean do you have the energy to do it now?” he clarified.

  “I can try, but I’ll need time,” she replied, punching her foe hard in the face.

  “Behind me,” Treace instructed, moving to get in front of her.

  She gave him a hard look, most likely from him moving to a protective spot in front of her, but she did as he instructed. “Don’t make me regret this.”

  Treace stood in front of her, fighting off the few that were brave enough to try to attack him. They were wary of him now, apparently Treace and his small force had downed enough of them that they decided there were others on the battlefield to fight instead. He didn’t mind, it gave both Kiril and Primain more time.

  Not long after, his vision began to swim. Kiril’s barrier was up. He looked back to Kiril, ensuring her barrier fell over her too. It was. With that confirmed, Treace sprinted toward the nearest enemy. With Kiril’s barrier in place, he didn’t need to worry about defense, so he went strictly on the offensive.

  He stood before a man who looked confused as to what was going on. He looked like he wasn’t ce
rtain whether or not he wanted to fight. Treace decided not to give him the option and stabbed in hard with his left sword, which the man deflected with his shield and offered a counter attack with his sword.

  The man’s aim was true and the sword angled for Treace’s chest. Unfortunately for him, though, Kiril’s barrier prevented the strike from harming Treace in any way. What was worse, though, was that Treace anticipated the move and had attacked with his opposite sword at the same time as his opponent. Considering his shield was already out of place from deflecting the other sword, and that his own sword was just stopped by the magical ward, it left him with no defense for the attack. Treace’s sword drove home, deep into the man’s chest cavity.

  Treace moved on before the man fell, knowing Kiril’s barrier wouldn’t last forever. He struck with reckless abandon, accepting numerous strikes to the barrier, but giving deadly ones of his own in return. He didn’t take the time to be precise, he overpowered them with numerous strikes.

  After downing seven men in quick succession, the opposition tried different tactics. Those in front of him quickly got out of his way, and those that he wasn’t directly facing steered clear of him altogether.

  It didn’t matter, he sprinted back and forth, always moving closer to Primain. He continued on, hacking down those that weren’t fast enough to get away from him.

  It wasn’t long before he had a twenty yard buffer between him and his nearest enemy. He was within a dozen yards of Primain then, who was cutting down those that were paying too much attention to Treace’s approach. Those few left in the way quickly removed themselves from his path.

  “That’s some swath you cut,” Primain observed.

  “Let’s go. Quickly,” Treace ordered, threatening those nearest by with menacing looks and feints in their direction.

  Primain and his force moved past him then, and Treace walked backward, keeping his eyes on the enemy.

  His vision returned to normal and he looked back over his shoulder at Kiril, who looked drained from her magical efforts. Moff and Raythien were next to her, firing arrows at anyone who dared get too close.

  In between where he now stood and them, more than a dozen bodies were strewn about the ground. Arms were severed at the elbow and a head laid several feet from its body.

  He focused his attention to those in front of him again, but none of them were keen on attacking Treace anytime soon. They simply allowed him to keep retracing his steps to get back to the main group.

  “We should get back to the city while we still can,” Raythien offered after he rushed to join them. A look of amazement was clear upon the man’s face.

  Primain looked around for a quick moment before giving the order for his men to fall back. Less than fifty of his force remained.

  Kiril hurried to Treace and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed him fiercely then said, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold it any longer.”

  “You performed beautifully,” he assured her. He would have died a dozen times over had her barrier not protected him.

  They quickly moved behind Exodin’s line, headed directly for the city. He looked back over the people that he’d killed and pictured how he must have looked to everyone else. If he saw a man weaving through a battlefield virtually untouched and unhindered, it’d give him pause too. If that didn’t, then the countless burned bodies surely would.

  Smoke billowed up in the distance. It was in the direction of the barn that he and his team had used for cover earlier. He assumed Shamir’s forces had decided to burn down their hiding spot.

  Shamir’s commanders rode their horses over to the men that had watched Treace and his force walk away. They barked orders, most likely for them to give chase, but most of the men didn’t immediately react. It took several attempts for the men to do anything, but when they did, Treace noticed that they did so without much gusto, and those that did react, came nowhere near to Treace or his friends. While he hoped that would keep up, he knew it wouldn’t last. The warrior inside of them would take over when they were pressed to truly fight by Exodin and his men. At least it gave those fighting for Liernin a little respite.

  When Treace finally made it to Drevic, the Archbishop asked, “What in Kaden’s name was that?”

  Treace wasn’t sure if he was referring to the magical fires or Treace’s advance, but before he could say anything, Magister Kelvrin spoke up.

  “We saved a lot of lives,” Kelvrin replied. “That’s what that was.”

  Drevic opened his mouth before snapping it shut. He looked around, inspecting those in attendance and simply nodded his head.

  Treace moved into the gate, noting Jak at the entrance. He wanted to allow his archers time to restock their arrows before going back out. “My team, replenish your arrows. We’re going back out,” Treace called out. Then much softer, he said, “Except you, Heral. You stay here.”

  Heral offered no protest.

  “You’ve got ten minutes to wash the blood from your hands and shit, if that’s what you need to do,” Primain told his remaining men. “But then we go back out beside our commander.”

  Jak walked over. “I didn’t see it myself, but by all reports, that was one hell of a show.”

  “All I did was swing my swords. She’s the one who really deserves the credit,” Treace said, gesturing to Kiril.

  Jak offered Kiril a deferential nod then looked back to Treace. “Not sure if you noticed, but they’ve set fire to the barn you were using.”

  Treace had noticed the smoke, but until now had only assumed it was from the barn. “All quiet elsewhere?”

  “Yeah, unless you believe a stable boy,” Jak replied.

  Treace raised his eyebrow to indicate his interest.

  “A stable boy from the northern gate said he saw a noblewoman kill all six of our men there,” the man explained.

  “And you believed him?” Primain asked.

  “Of course not,” Jak replied. “And even though we can hardly spare the men, I sent a few men to check anyway.”

  “A tough call,” Primain responded. “But the right one.”

  “I’m sure the boy was just fooling around, most likely scared out of his mind with all that’s going on, but why he’d make up stories at a time like this,” Jak said, shaking his head. “If I was his dad I’d surely put a whooping on that boy.”

  “Thanks, Jak,” Treace said, waving goodbye to the man.

  “A humming, singing, murderous wench who can take out six armed men with a simple dagger. Now there’s a story!” Jak harrumphed and started to walk away.

  Treace, Kiril, and Moffred exchanged looks. Could it really be her?

  Treace called out Jak’s name, making the man stop.

  “Yeah?”

  “How long ago was that?”

  “The boy’s story or that I sent the men?”

  “Both,” Treace replied.

  “About fifteen minutes for the boy, about ten for the men,” Jak replied before barking orders out to those just standing around.

  “It can’t be a coincidence,” Kiril suggested.

  “What can’t?” Primain asked.

  “Get your group together and meet us at the northern gate,” Treace instructed Primain.

  “What can’t be a coincidence?” Primain asked again.

  Treace ignored him and issued orders to his team to get ready to move out.

  “Jass hums, sings, and uses a dagger,” Raythien explained to Primain while Treace issued orders to the others. “And she’s definitely a murderous wench.”

  “Who’s Jass?” Primain asked, seemingly lost.

  “Just get your men to the northern gate. Now!” Treace commanded. “And get word to Exodin. Tell him that we’re being attacked from the north.”

  If it did turn out to be Jass, Treace meant to put an end to that troublesome woman.

  Chapter 27

  The men that Shamir had ordered to take out Liernin’s archers behind the barn weren’t faring so well. Brental watched arrows
cut down soldier after soldier.

  Liernin’s men appeared to have formed a line of archers that were firing into the oncoming men to devastating effect.

  Brental wasn’t shocked to see them being decimated. He half expected it. While he did assume the force would be met by other melee combatants rather than archers, the outcome seemed likely to be the same. He did warn the King of it, but he knew better than to remind him of it. “You may need to send more men to the barn,” Brental observed.

  Shamir fixed him with an irritated look. “Whatever you were going to say next, don’t.”

  Brental wasn’t actually trying to get under Shamir’s skin with his words. He thought he was being conservative with his comment. If Shamir had listened to him and sent more of his force, some of which were surprisingly still sitting idle behind the bulk of the group, then perhaps this would have played out much differently.

  There were only a handful of men left at the barn, or so he thought. It was difficult to see clearly from this distance, but he believed he saw some of Liernin’s men rush out to meet them in melee combat. That fight was all but over. Liernin may have gotten the best of Shamir on that one, but it was just a small victory. The real battle would surely still be won by the King.

  Fire flashed into view then, making Brental peer harder into the distance. The fire sprang up too fast to be a torch, it was as if it was already an established fire, rising at least half as high as the barn. Just as quickly as it appeared, the fire receded. It didn’t completely disappear, however, it still engulfed a soldier. Brental could just make out the burning man before he disappeared from his sight.

  “What in Kaden’s name was that?” Shamir asked from his comfy spot next to him.

  Brental suspected that the fire didn’t originate from any normal means, instead it was brought forth by magic. Though that was tough for him to believe. Brental was the master of fire and even he had no idea how to create such an effect. Could Drevic and his lackeys have somehow figured out something that Brental didn’t know?

  “Is that one of my men running from the battle?” Shamir asked, standing up in his seat to get a better view.