“I would not have let her flee,” Raine said darkly.
Y'arren smiled. “I know my dear. And she would not have escaped you. Not even with her great skill.”
Raine sighed, and with the Scinterian pragmatism that ruled her life, shrugged her shoulders. “Well, destiny is destiny. I can flee from fate, but I will only meet it on the road I took to avoid it, probably under less favorable circumstances. You cannot run from it, you cannot run to it, you can only meander your way until fate tires of waiting and sweeps you from your feet. You may think you can control your destiny, but none of us influences it in any way.”
“You are wise even beyond your advanced years,” Y'arren said, “although you are still a youngster to me.” She raised an eyebrow. “And I imagine you are quite a youngster to Talan as well.”
A smile stole its way back on to Raine's face, and the somber mood lightened. “I have never had much of an attraction to anyone. But apparently I like older women.” She paused, and the smile grew larger. “As long as they are also dragons.”
CHAPTER 10
Although their entry into the elven camp had been less than auspicious, the band left the clan with great reluctance. The short respite from their journey had been wonderful for all. Y'arren had appeared once more, highlighting the importance of their quest by bestowing her most profound blessing on them. The travelers then departed, picking their way through the thick forest.
It was two days before they made it to the flat plain area and Lorifal was once again happy to be on his horse. Although the open land made travel far easier, the open sky above made Gunnar nervous, as did the wide swathes of land around them. Although they could see for miles in every direction, there was no place to hide or even flee to if they were attacked.
They passed blackened, diseased areas where roots had crawled to the surface as if trying to escape, their twisted, tortured positions bespeaking the agony of their attempt. These stretches of land looked like scars on the countryside, filled with dead wildlife, dead plant life, dead everything. Occasionally, a mortally wounded animal or bird could be found limping along the blackened earth and Raine would dispatch these quickly, her blue eyes dark with sadness and her jaw clenched.
Elyara noticed that Raine began to look to the sky with increasing frequency, and when she followed her gaze she saw the gigantic hawk that she had seen before.
“Is there a story behind the hawk?” Elyara asked, “Like the one behind the wolves?”
Raine's eyes again went skyward, and she seemed preoccupied. “Yes,” she said, “it's somewhat similar. Baby bird. Rescued from certain death. Raised to adulthood. Taught to fly. Turns out it is one of Freyja's children. I have the most profound luck that way. But we really don't have time for the full story right now.”
“What is that?” Feyden said, squinting towards the horizon. It looked at first like a storm front, but it was too low to the ground and the sky above it was clear. He realized it was a cloud of dust.
Gunnar felt a stab of fear. “We are exposed. There is no place to hide here. No cover.”
Raine looked around them. There really was nothing. Even on their horses they could not outrun the approaching horde. And as the cloud of dust spread across the entire horizon, she realized the far edges were increasing their speed, meaning the approaching army was going to flank them, then surround them. She dismounted, thinking furiously.
“Elyara, your skill is with the natural world. The soil here is soft and sandy. Can you create a wall from it? One about five feet tall so that we can see over it?” She glanced to Lorifal, “Well, so most of us can see over it,” she amended. “But make it as long as possible given your abilities, but not so long that it strains your power. I'm going to need you to maintain it throughout the skirmish.”
“Skirmish?” Bristol fairly squealed, “Skirmish? This is going to be a slaughter. And what good is a wall going to do?”
Raine ignored him and continued to address Elyara. “Make the wall slightly curved so that it bends around us like a shield and will deflect the enemy as we move forward.”
“But how will we move forward with the wall in front of us?” Gunnar asked.
“Because the wall's going to move with us.” Raine turned to Idonea. “I know how powerful you are,” she said quietly, “and I know your skills are very opposite those of Elyara's. So I need you to bring this wall to life. Nothing fancy, just give it legs. Short, stout legs every ten paces or so along its length, enough that it can march slowly forward.”
Idonea pursed her lips. It was an interesting request. That was one of the fascinating aspects of magic; sometimes it wasn't so much the degree of power but the degree of creativity used in manipulating it. And this was quite a creative application. Although there were many far more elaborate spells or incantations that could be cast, all would require enormous magical energy, exhausting both her and Elyara. This one was quite simple and could likely be sustained throughout the battle.
“Yes,” she said, “I can do that.”
“Good,” Raine said. “Feyden, you and I will be at the front with our bows. Gunnar, Bristol, and Dagna, you will be behind us. The wall is not meant to stop the Hyr'rok'kin, only slow them down. So if they get past Feyden and me, you will take care of them.”
Gunnar and Dagna nodded vigorously, and Bristol far more slowly.
“And me?” Lorifal asked.
“We could make the wall a complete circle, but I think it will move with greater ease and blunt the frontal assault more if it is shaped like a wedge or a shield. It is your job to take care of our rear flank, which will be exposed.”
A smile crept across the dwarf's face as he gripped his battle ax. “Clean up. I like it.”
“If we do end up being flanked,” Raine said, turning back to Elyara. “Gradually close the wall into a circle and close it if need be. At that point,” she continued, now addressing Idonea, “just drop the wall in place and we will fight from there.” She looked around at her companions. “Does everyone understand their role?”
Somber faces greeted her, but all nodded. The cloud of dust was getting closer and the little black outlines of individual soldiers could be seen. Raine spoke a few words into the ear of her stallion, then gently swatted his flank. He took off in the opposite direction of the cloud of dust, followed by the other horses. Bristol gargled, nearly choking in fear and indignation. Raine had just eliminated their only means of escape.
“Where do you want Idonea and me to stand?” Elyara asked.
“You may stand wherever you feel most comfortable,” Raine replied, “and the most safe.”
It did not take Elyara half a second to decide where she was standing, which was directly behind Raine. And as much as it pained Idonea to admit, that was exactly where she was going to stand as well.
“Are we ready?” Raine asked, gauging the approaching dust. They were getting very close, but she did not want to strain Elyara and Idonea beyond their limits. But it was time. She nodded to Elyara.
“Go ahead.”
A determined look settled upon Elyara's delicate features. She spoke a few ancient words, held her hands out wide, and concentrated with all her might.
At first nothing happened. Then the ground began to quiver and shake. A split in the earth in front of them slithered through the dirt like a snake, then straightened with a snap and the oddest precision. The earth erupted upwards, flowing like thick water, quivering gelatinously, then solidifying into a mass. The mass was uneven, twisting, turning, then again solidified with that odd precision into a wall. The wall stretched outward in both directions, then curved about the group.
Raine eyed the magical structure with appreciation. “Perfect,” she said. “Now it's your turn, Idonea.”
Idonea would never say it aloud, but the wall impressed her. So she rose to the occasion, spoke her own arcane words of dark magic, and brought the wall to life.
It was an awe-inspiring sight and probably would have been much mor
e enjoyable had not the Hyr'rok'kin army been bearing down upon them. But the wall began to rise, appearing for an instant almost as if it were levitating. But the illusion resolved itself as it became apparent the wall was not floating, but rather was getting to its feet on its newly sprouted legs. The legs themselves were a sight to behold, not mere appendages but vicious, spiked limbs that would inflict damage with every forward step.”
“Nice touch,” Raine murmured.
“Thank you,” Idonea said, stabilizing the spell, then commanding it to move. The wall took one step, then another, then began to slowly move forward.
“By the Divine,” Dagna said, “what an incredible sight. We might actually survive this.”
“We will more than survive this,” Raine said, her tone dark but confident. “We are going to destroy this army.”
That was an unlikely scenario, Feyden thought as he took his place behind the wall. The numbers bearing down on them were like stars in the sky. Even with his extraordinary faith in Raine, he did not see how they could come out of this. Still, he thought, as he turned to the beauty at this side, there was something about her that inspired confidence. She had a look of grim anticipation on her face, as if what she was about to face brought her great joy, as if some part of her was born to live on a battlefield and came to life only under those circumstances.
“Want to wager I can hit one from here?”
“I'm not inclined to bet against you, but…”
The distance between them and the Hyr'rok'kin was much farther than the Shard scout she had taken down before. It was not even close to Feyden's range.
Raine snapped the bow outward into place with a violent twist. She removed a long arrow from her back, notched it, and eyed the rapidly approaching line. The figures were still tiny and could barely be seen in the dust. She had already taken note of the wind speed and direction, negligible under most circumstances but significant at this distance. She focused, breathed in, breathed out, and let the arrow fly.
The missile could not be tracked because it was too great a distance, but the outcome was clear. A tiny figure went down in a tumble of limbs, taking out several more tiny figures around him. The effect was also clear as the line slowed to a crawl, then came to a complete a stop. The tiny, black figures milled about uncertainly.
Raine was already notching another arrow, and within seconds, another tiny figure grabbed its chest and went down. She began methodically picking off Hyr'rok'kin one-by-one, moving and firing in a constant rhythm as she kept pace with the wall. Feyden looked back to Dagna.
“She's going to need your arrows.”
Dagna handed her entire supply to Feyden, as did Gunnar and Bristol. Idonea took that opportunity to murmur a comment to Raine, unheard by the others.
“If you fuck as well as you kill, it's no wonder my mother is so enamored with you.”
Raine grinned, pausing not at all. She notched another arrow, took aim, and another figure went down.
“Actually,” she replied, “fucking and killing are the two things I do best, and fortunately both excite your mother.”
Idonea just shook her head, for once more amused by the answer than disgusted.
The front line of the enemy began to move once more, whipped from behind by their superiors. But the advance seemed more chaotic now, less organized, less certain. Soon they were within Feyden's range and he began firing just as methodically as Raine. By the time he could see the blood red eyes of the beasts, he estimated they had taken down more than five score. But this was a huge force, much larger than any they had faced before and one designed to end their journey. Some arrows did come their way, but Shard archers were not known for their accuracy, especially when they were moving. There seemed very little strategy in this attack but rather it was a straight-forward, brutal frontal assault meant to succeed by overwhelming force. And what arrows did make their way into their small enclosure either met the shields of those behind them or were swatted from the air with a twist of Raine's wrist.
As the army neared, the Plague-Riders came into view, gigantic bear-like creatures that Shards rode like horses. They were hideous, with great gaping maws filled with jagged teeth. Their hides were as diseased and pock-marked as the Hyr'rok'kin. They snapped at their riders, they snapped at the infantry, they snapped at anything that was in range of their massive jaws. They were not known for endurance, but like the bear, could run dangerously fast over short distances.
Raine did not see any Marrow Shards, of which she was glad. But there was something worse she was looking for, and thankfully she did not see it or smell it yet.
The first Shards struck the wall and Raine braced. Both Elyara and Idonea staggered as if they themselves had been hit, but the wall held and with little more than a stutter step, it kept marching forward. Raine kept firing, pleased with the mages. The Shards came over the wall, blood and phlegm dripping from their mouths, and for every two that she took down, one would get past only to be cut down by those behind her. Elyara and Idonea were pressed close behind her and Feyden, and their constant stream of arrows created a funnel of protection for them. Dagna, Bristol, and Gunnar guarded the edges of this funnel, cutting down everything that came their way. Lorifal stood in the rear, smashing anything that was left.
The army was starting to swarm around them and Elyara slowly began to close the wall. It was becoming more elliptical than circular in order to protect their flanks, and it was more like a wedge than a shield in order to keep its forward progress. But the wall was slowing due to the sheer number of Shards throwing themselves against it. Lorifal was getting overwhelmed with the Shards flowing around it, so Dagna turned to aid him.
Idonea was having difficulty keeping the wall moving. The spell she was casting was not particularly difficult because she was not actually bringing the earth to life but rather was simply animating inanimate material. So she was acting less a god and more a puppet master at the moment. Because of this, she felt she could add to the spell without completely draining her power. Spiked arms sprang from the wall, slithering outward like tentacles, and the arms began to smash, impale, and strangle the Hyr'rok'kin attempting to crawl over the wall.
The arms were a glorious addition but Raine was concerned that Idonea would grow tired. She could see that Elyara was beginning to fade as well. A quick assessment of her surroundings told her it was time to go to her sword, and she retracted her bow. She drew the shorter double swords because of the close quarters and began slicing through everything around her. She glanced to the sky, saw what appeared to be a dark cloud, and grinned. Feyden saw the flash of her white teeth in the haze of dirt and blood and followed her gaze.
A cloud appeared to be diving toward them. At first Feyden could not fathom what the strange formation might be, then began to see the individual parts that made up the whole.
It was a gigantic flock of birds. Large birds. Birds of prey.
The hawks strafed down over the endangered rear flank of the party, some at so great a speed and angle that when they struck, they took the monstrous attackers to the ground. Others skimmed over the tops, their razor sharp talons slicing wounds through heads and shoulders.
An enormous hawk took out a Plague-Rider and the Shard on its back, pinning the Shard to the ground. The magnificent raptor turned to Raine, who was yelling something to it in a language Feyden had never heard. Raine was also motioning, pointing to her own eyes, and the raptor gave a piercing cry of acknowledgment, one heard easily above the din of battle. The raptor, and all others, began plucking the eyes from the Shards, the simplest and most effective way of rendering them helpless. The newly blinded combatants screamed in pain and fear, swinging their axes about and endangering their own comrades far more than the small band tightly ensconced inside the wall.
Feyden felt giddy. Not only might they survive this, they were slaughtering this army from what had been an exposed and indefensible position on the plain. If they could beat the Hyr'rok'kin here and in Smugg
ler's Breach, they could beat them anywhere.
Raine, too, was starting to feel a cautious hope. Although still vastly outnumbered, the Shard commanders were having difficulty keeping the low-level troops in line and many were fleeing. A blinded Plague-Rider was rolling and thrashing about, taking out infantry all around it. The hawks were still plucking out eyeballs, gulping them down like treats. Lorifal was joyfully surrounded, smashing the Shards who came too near, his dwarven helmet pulled low over his eyes and dripping with blood. Dagna and Bristol fought back-to-back, Dagna with sword and shield and Bristol with his greatsword. Feyden was still at her side, he, too, having moved to a short sword and dagger. Gunnar was swinging his greatsword about, at times slicing, at times smashing. It seemed they might be victorious.
And then she felt it. The sensation crawled over Raine's skin, raised the hair on the back of her neck. She could smell it, a noxious odor of corrupted and diseased flesh, the smell of death. And when she breathed outward, although she was sweating from the heat and exertion of battle, her breath came out ice cold, the vapor visible, crystallized, in the hot air.
The breath confirmed it. It was her body's reaction to and warning of what was about to appear. She turned desperately to Elyara, handing her one of her swords.
“Elyara,” she said urgently, “you must enchant this.”
Her confusion evident, Elyara took the sword, still concentrating on the wall. “But I may lose control of the wall.”
Raine pulled a cloth from her jerkin and began wrapping it around her fist. She wrapped it around and around, her movements almost frantic. Feyden watched the curious act with growing concern and Raine's demeanor with growing fear.
“It doesn't matter!” Raine said, agitated. “Enchant it with something from the natural world! No dark magic!”
Raine glanced to Idonea as she spoke these words, and Idonea's look of terror told her that the mage had sensed the apparition as well. It was all Idonea could do to maintain her spell, so gripped with horror was she at what approached.
The Dragon's Lover Page 12
