Gods & Dragons: 8 Fantasy Novels

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Gods & Dragons: 8 Fantasy Novels Page 165

by Daniel Arenson


  “Lady Bethany, help me!” Aneese shouted over the chaos, as people bounced off the old elf. She clung to the wall, stumbling but determined to stay upright. “I fell down the stairs.”

  Bethany skidded to a stop and wrapped a supportive and firm arm around her. Father Malcolm grabbed Aneese and they both escorted her from the throng.

  Bethany said, “Orchard Park and the entire fleet are on fire. I need to get people to safety.”

  Another explosion. Ceiling plaster flew through the air like arrows and hit Aneese in the face. She screamed and fell to the cracked marble floor.

  “Aneese!” Bethany dropped to her knees. Several wood shards pierced Father Malcolm’s face and neck. Blood ran down his throat and puddled on the stone floor. Bethany grasped Aneese’s wrist and her scattered Blessed Bow. She yanked Aneese’s hand back in time before it could be crushed by a small horde of screaming children in clerical robes.

  Grabbing the old elf’s wrist, Bethany eased the woman up and over her shoulder, hanging like a child’s doll.

  “Go, child. I cannot see and I will only slow you.”

  “Shut up.” Bethany rallied her strength and adjusted the elf’s weight across her back. “Apexia’s ass, Aneese. You’ll get trampled.”

  Aneese tightened her grip on Bethany’s bicep. “Go, my child.”

  Bethany looked down the corridor. All she could see was the silhouette of people in the fog of smoke and plaster dust. Grasping both of her swords in her left hand, she used her right to hold on to Aneese and her bow. “Stubborn old bag,” she declared before staggering from the woman’s weight and standing mostly straight. She broke into a jog, shouting, cursing for people to move out of the way. Outside of the temple, bedlam reigned.

  Bethany eased Aneese and her bow to the grass, in a corner. “You’re safe.” Bethany didn’t wait for a reply. More explosions boomed, knocking her off her feet.

  The temple. They are attacking the temple.

  Pushing herself to run faster, Bethany jumped over collapsed stone and plaster, and avoided the swarm of confused people. A series of blasts resounded through the night air. Fire ignited upwards along the stone walls until they exploded.

  Magic. We have been attacked by Magic.

  * * * * *

  “Bethany!”

  She turned to see a shirtless Kiner pulling on a padded leather overcoat. “What happened?”

  Kiner shouted over the noise. “Over half of Orchard Park exploded several minutes ago. Impossible to save. I ordered Erem’s troops to pull back to stop the spread of the fire. It’ll be some time before the message gets to him.” He pulled her down on her knees to avoid head-sized boulders spraying from the south tower. “This,” he waved his hand in the air, “happened only moments ago.”

  “Where’s Jovan?”

  Kiner shook his head. “Haven’t seen him yet. He was on duty, though.”

  “Any sign of the enemy?”

  He shook his head. “There have been no attackers that I’ve seen.”

  Arrago rushed into the courtyard, Bethany’s sword held high. Out of habit, she motioned for him. As he ran to join them, body crouched, a knot formed in her gut. She wanted to keep him safe, but clearly, safe didn’t exist.

  “Our floor and two down is clear. A number of other knights took over the search and told me to come out here, where it’s safe.” He looked around. “It doesn’t look safe.”

  She acknowledged him with a sharp nod. Kiner waved over Eve and Jovan, both fully armored in mail, swords, and steel. They’d been on duty.

  “What news?” Bethany asked as Jovan crouched beside her.

  Jovan flung an arm up to ward off a stray piece of brick. “Eve and I were out training when it happened. Orchard Park blew, then the ships, then the temple. All in less than a minute.

  We’ve moved half of our trainees to the south shore to pump water.”

  Her guts clenched, but she had to ask. “How many people made it out of the city?”

  Jovan shrugged. “No way to tell. Allric is further up the shore with about three hundred people trying to control the fires.”

  Three men suddenly stepped from thin air and rushed at Bethany. In an instant, Jovan and Eve were on their feet. Jovan slit two of their throats and Eve planted an arrow in the other’s skull. The men collapsed, blood seeping from their wounds. They hadn’t even had a chance to fight back.

  Just the way it should be.

  “I thought you said there was no enemy,” Bethany said, looking at Kiner.

  Kiner stared. “They just appeared. Like at Eve’s.”

  “Over there!” Arrago pointed. “More!”

  Bethany snapped her head in the direction of Arrago’s pointing. A dozen people stepped from the shadows, their swords held aloft. The explosions turned the air black, but Bethany could still see the weapons were coated with Magic, glistening with unnatural colors.

  “They’re coming from all directions,” Eve said.

  “Form up!” Bethany screamed. “Knights to me!” Several dozen people formed a line, then others formed a back defense. Many were fully armored, like Eve and Jovan, others were like her and Kiner, wearing whatever they could easily pull over their heads. Bethany readied herself for combat. From the corner of her eye, she saw Arrago’s sword shake. Jovan and Eve stood next to Bethany. Kiner next to Arrago. Other knights, regulars, priests, and even stable boys with rakes flanked them and surrounded them from behind.

  One of the men shouted in a voice that seemed to echo in her mind. “Lady Bethany, daughter of Apexia, scourge of the earth, it will be an honor to kill you tonight.”

  She winced, but gathered her courage and reminded herself of the vow. No matter what, she would stop Sarissa tonight. Nothing else mattered.

  The man swung his sword at her head. Instinct took over, and everything fell away as Bethany thrust her sword out, parrying the blow. The other cloaked men swarmed around them, apparently getting the sign that were waiting for. She ignored them, having eyes only for the target in front of her.

  Bethany brought her sword up again, the heavy clang of metal against metal, of Magic against Power, vibrated down her forearm to her shoulder. She gritted her teeth as her opponent put more force into a second, quicker blow, and tried to concentrate on keeping his sword away from her body at all costs.

  More cloaked men and women ran towards them. Hundreds. They seemed to walk out of thin air. She recalled Sarissa’s disappearing act. These butchers had been hiding at the temple all along. Rage boiled inside her and she let it take over.

  The booming explosions faded into the background as she focused on cutting down every single Magi in front of her. A sword nicked her forearm but she didn’t feel the pain. Just the coursing, surging fury inside of her and the screaming of her Power begging for release.

  At the edge of her vision, she caught sight of a wave of civilians attacking the cloaked men, fighting with blade, bow, and shovel. She hoped they were knights, but in the end it didn’t matter, as long as they fought and died well. Beside her, she heard the grunts of her friends as they fought off the Magi. Gone was her fear for Arrago. She pushed everything from her mind.

  Kill now. Mourn later.

  Kiner screamed and she snapped her head in time to see him fall to the ground, blood gushing from his torso. Just like in training. Only real now.

  A sword nicked her other arm. Bethany stumbled back a step. Arrago stepped over Kiner’s bleeding body to protect him. She hacked another attacker down and saw Arrago collapse to the ground as the invader pulled her sword from her lover’s thigh. Bethany hacked the woman’s head partially off, spraying her face with his poisoned blood.

  She screamed at Arrago’s bloody body, limp and ragged on the ground. Her home was in flames. Her friends dying.

  Rage exploded within her.

  Time slowed.

  People slowed.

  She did not.

  Her swords clashed against the attackers as her head pounded in pace wit
h the clang of swords. She sliced throats, limbs, bodies. Her Blessed Blades slipped through them all like creamed butter. She parried blows from axes, swords, and knives.

  “Beth!” Jovan shouted. “Fall back.”

  In the forming fog around her, she surveyed the battlefield. There was nowhere to fall back to. There was no retreat.

  And then, she saw her.

  Remember the vow.

  Bethany glared at her advancing sister, struggling to not leave the formation and rush into the thick of the enemy horde to hack her murderous sister into tiny pieces for the crows.

  No, it was not her sister. It was a thing. Sarissa had died the moment she had cast her first spell. In front of her was the Viper of prophecy. Not Sarissa, but the embodiment of Magic. Pure evil.

  This was the Viper.

  And she planned to destroy it.

  * * * * *

  Arrago screamed as the invader’s sword sliced through his leg. He collapsed beside Kiner, panting and moaning in pain. His friend was still, though he moaned.

  “Kiner? Are you with me?”

  Kiner did not move, though he whispered so softly that Arrago strained to hear him. “If I get a healer in time, I’ll live. Stomach wound takes hours to kill, Arrago. Keep fighting.” Kiner’s eyes closed.

  “Gentle Goddess, protect him.”

  Above him, the battle raged. Blood sprayed his face. A woman dropped to the ground with a thud. Jovan and the others were falling back, taking small steps back. Archers took aim and the air whizzed with deadly steel and wood.

  Arrago fumbled Kiner’s dagger from the unconscious Elorian’s boot, and tried to stab the pain away by thrusting his dagger through the shins of anyone who stepped close enough. He pulled himself away from Kiner, trying to join the others and keep under their protection. An arrow hit the fleshy side of his middle and he gasped, the pain blinding him for a moment.

  Several well armed knights moved in his direction and stood in front of him and Kiner’s limp body. Arrago stopped trying to escape and stayed, slitting the calves of anyone he could reach.

  Pride welled up in his heart as he watched Bethany. Never in his life has he seen someone so strong and so brave. She moved faster than he thought capable of anyone. Clearly, she was already blessed with Apexia’s help, but he greedily asked the Goddess for more.

  Then he remembered what the first attacker had called her. Daughter of Apexia. Why would he call her that? Apexia’s daughters were a secret, protected by the clergy. Everyone knew Bethany.

  Blood splashed his face as Bethany jabbed a dagger through the throat of one of the men. He winced and vomited on Kiner’s motionless body. The world turned on its end and he vomited again from the dizziness. It grew more difficult to hold the dagger, but he clutched it with every drop of strength in him. There were too many attackers for the handful of knights still standing. Bethany would die if he did not help.

  She couldn’t die.

  He had to keep fighting.

  Tears and fright welled up inside of him and he fought to control them. Bethany was not crying. He would not cry.

  In the distance, he saw the attackers part. In the middle, the shape of a woman calmly approaching them. As she grew closer, he wondered if his eyes betrayed him. It was Bethany. But she was standing next to him.

  She was a twin?

  * * * * *

  Sarissa smiled at the filthy, bleeding mess that was her sister. Bethany’s long scarlet hair was now caked with blood and dirt, blowing in the light breeze. In fact, without the Blessed Blades and red hair, Bethany would have been indistinguishable from many of the defenders.

  “Hello, my sister,” Sarissa shouted over the melee. She willed Magic to her voice to ensure that it echoed in everyone’s mind.

  Bethany stood firm, maintaining her weakening formation of farmers and priests, with the occasional knight in the mix. Arrows whizzed past her and she ignored them. “Come to die, Sarissa?”

  With a force of will and Magic, Sarissa passed a mental thought to all of her people. The red headed knight is mine.

  “No. I’ve come to kill you.”

  Sarissa steadied her stance and focused. Chaos faded and the steady rhythm of her heart became the only sound she could hear. Everything else became background sound.

  Bethany raised her swords in a fighter’s stance, bringing a smile to Sarissa’s lips. Raising her hands, she whispered, “Fire,” and two glowing streaks of brilliant, flickering red blasted at Bethany.

  Disappointingly, her sister did not flinch and the flames died before they hurt her.

  “Come on, Sarissa. Fight me properly. Let’s see if you’ve forgotten all your training.” Bethany took a taunting, half step forward. Enough to announce her intentions, but not enough to leave her friends. Another one of Bethany’s failings. Sentimentality. She’d let Sarissa live once. She’d do it again, as long as her rage wasn’t kindled.

  So, Sarissa drew a lightweight short sword from each of her hip scabbards. The Power would only allow Bethany to die by mundane means. Magic weapons could nick her, perhaps even maim, but never kill.

  A little thought occurred to Sarissa. She didn’t need to hold the weapons. And, since Bethany would not come to her, she would go to her sister. Maybe say hello to the gang.

  Bethany, for her part, never took her eyes off Sarissa, her judging, self-righteous glare seethed in hatred.

  “I wish it never came to this,” Sarissa said, surprisingly meaning it. She’d meant the words and a little fear seeped into her soul. She quickly brushed sentiment aside. “But you stand in my way. Die well, sister.”

  Sarissa threw her swords in the air and whispered, “Animate!”

  Unseen forced grabbed the hilts of the mundane steel and formed a fighter’s stance. Sarissa walked to Bethany. If her sister wanted to brawl and roll in the dirt like a common beast, she’d oblige her that last request before ripping her soul from her chest.

  “Mother would be so proud of us playing together,” Sarissa said, her swords marching forward in step with her own advance.

  Bethany did not return the verbal barb. As Sarissa approached, she saw a new look she’d never seen before in her twin’s eyes: pure hatred. Chills spread through her. Gone was the ever-compassionate Bethany. Here stood the soldier who would not let her live.

  Well, good. It’s about time.

  An arrow skimmed Sarissa’s calf. It didn’t embed, but it skinned out a hunk of flesh. It didn’t hurt, so she kept walking. Then, a bolt slammed into her bicep. She shrugged. It would be at least another hour before she could feel pain.

  Nevertheless, she had no desire to come down from her glorious Magic overload to a barely functioning body. Sarissa waved a hand in the air and an invisible barrier erected around her. Just enough to bounce arrows and the like, without using too much of the energy she’d need to defend against a half goddess.

  Her people had spread out, attacking anyone they could find, leaving Bethany for her. While not even a full minute had passed, she knew the agony of standing still on the battlefield tormented her sister.

  The mundane swords finally found their target. Sarissa focused on her will and the sword fight began, sparks shooting from the grinding of steel on steel. Bethany’s weapons skills far outmatched her own, but her mind was faster than Bethany’s hands.

  In typical knight fashion, the formation lines shifted a few steps ahead to move away from the mounting injured and dead bodies at their feet. Bethany maintained her focus on the blades and kept pace with Sarissa’s animated weapons.

  Bethany’s concentration grated Sarissa’s nerves, as did the lack of competence in the Magi she’d brought with her. Her own people fought well, leaving a bloody trail in their wake. The hired cannon fodder barely slowed the knights.

  Not that it mattered. The temple was ruined. Orchard Park burned. The fleet burned. And that was not even the best part.

  “I found the books, you know. I’ve been in the dungeon.” She had found her bo
oks, hiding in the basement cellars where she had once been chained. Stupid hubris of the clergy for not tucking the books away better. She had searched the dungeons first.

  Sweat poured down Bethany’s face, streaking the blood and grime caked on her sister’s face. Without breaking her stride, she shouted back, “You curse these men to fight?”

  Sarissa thrust her hand out and a gust of wind slammed into Bethany. She stumbled, but Sarissa failed to stab her with the swords.

  Whore.

  “No, they were heading north.”

  Horror filled Bethany’s exhausted eyes.

  “Yes, dear, Magic is everywhere.”

  Then, Bethany surprised her. She dropped her Blessed Blades and before Sarissa could react, her sister grabbed the sword blades with her bare hands. Blood trickled, then poured, down Bethany’s forearms, soaking the sleeves of her tunic and dripping off her elbows.

  Bethany paled and shook, as both the mundane cut her and the Magic reacted to her. Sarissa fought the tinge of pride in watching her sister refuse to give up. Bethany took two long strides, pushing the swords closer. The barrier spell was protection enough.

  “Mundane blades, dear. They can hurt you.”

  Bethany did not let go. Instead, Power flowed from her. Sarissa scrambled to cast a new barrier spell, something stronger.

  She failed.

  Bethany flipped the swords around and plunged them into Sarissa’s chest. Stunned, Sarissa looked down, watching her lifeblood flow through her dress. She stumbled. Thankfully, there was no pain. But there was no coming back from this unless someone poured Magic oil on her. Robert had the oil. Where was he?

  She took a step towards Bethany, the world contorting and blurring from the blood loss. She wondered where Robert was. It would have been nice to say good-bye to him.

  “You still lose,” Sarissa whispered and she collapsed against her sister. The Power of Bethany coursed through her, and her Magic revolted. White hot pain stabbed at her body and her vision blurred. “I wasn’t even the Viper. The Magic was the Viper. You killed your own sister for nothing.”

  Bethany crushed her arms around Sarissa, forcing the Magic out of her. Sarissa screamed from the pain. In the dark recesses of her mind, she heard Bethany’s calm, low voice.

 

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