“Whose side are you on?” Dorian asked… a quiet fury in his tone.
“Get out of my way Thornbear, your wizard has crossed the line,” Cyhan warned him. Fire flared and an explosion nearby underscored his words.
“Are you alright Penny?” Dorian said, looking past his opponent.
Cyhan struck the moment Dorian’s eyes left him, his sword sweeping up to catch the younger man before he could defend himself. He didn’t count on his opponent’s speed however. Dorian sidestepped the thrust and brought his own blade to bear. Steel flashed as the two men began to fight in earnest.
Penny rose and began to make her way toward Mordecai, keeping a wary eye on the deadly struggle playing out before her. The two warriors seemed evenly matched to the untrained eye, while Cyhan possessed skill and grace obtained over a lifetime of training Dorian had a natural talent with the sword and his youth and speed made up for what he lacked in experience. Penny knew better though, her own training had taught her to read the flow of a battle and she could see that Dorian was close to losing. With each exchange he was left slightly off balance, struggling to get his sword back into position in time to meet the next sweep of Cyhan’s blade.
The two men had practiced together before this, but their faces were a picture of deadly determination now, this was not a practice bout. A silence fell over the field as they fought, as though the war itself had stopped out of respect for their individual battle, then Penny realized what had actually happened. The explosions had stopped. Looking up she could see Mordecai had gone still, his body tense, as if he were struggling against some titanic force while he stood in plain view of the enemy. With a cry she began running, trying to reach him before it was too late.
Meanwhile Dorian continued his losing battle. The man he faced was more skillful than anyone he had ever met and despite his best efforts he couldn’t keep Cyhan’s blade from reaching him forever. Another pass of their swords and sparks flew as the older man’s blade ran along his arm striking the mail Mordecai had enchanted for him. In that moment Dorian knew what he had to do. You better have been right about this armor Mort, he thought silently. Dorian slipped and almost lost his footing, leaving himself wide open on his left side. Quicker than thought Cyhan’s blade was there driving in at Dorian’s unprotected stomach. The force of the thrust was such that it should have gone through Dorian’s armor, but the enchantment held. Instead Dorian felt a blow, as if he had been punched in the stomach, but he had been ready for that. Catching the end of the sword in his mailed fist he swung his own sword downward at the trapped blade and his enchanted steel cut cleanly through it, leaving the older warrior holding a foreshortened stub of a weapon.
Surprise lit Cyhan’s face for a second and Dorian’s sword swung back. If it had connected it might have severed his head but he threw himself backward before it reached him. He was left with a deep cut across his cheek and nose. Gritting his teeth in pain he cast about seeking a weapon as Dorian advanced on him again. He never saw the heavy pole that struck him from behind. He collapsed wordlessly to the ground.
Marcus dropped the heavy pole he had taken from the fallen palisade and gave Dorian a smile, “I owed him one.” His smile vanished as he saw what was happening atop the earthen mound.
Chapter 39
My attention shifted as I realized I was no longer the only magic worker on the field. Deep purple auras had sprung up around no less than five men, spread out amongst the advancing soldiers. The closest was no more than fifty yards from me. Before I could react lines of amethyst shot forth to envelope me from different directions.
Sounds of fighting came from behind, but I had no time to think on it. The lavender energies playing over my shield were driving inward with crushing force. Individually none of them would have been much of a threat, for they didn’t seem to be powerful channelers, but together they were more than I could handle. Sweat stood out on my brow as I strove to keep their dark energies from penetrating my defense.
In the distance I could hear singing and a deep drumbeat tone, much like a giant heart. Almost instinctively I knew it was the heart of the earth. In desperation I called out to it, help me! A surge of power rose up from the ground at my feet, coursing through my body and with an exultant cry I shattered the lines of force pinning me. I felt more than saw a massive ballista bolt go hurtling past. It had missed by scant inches as I stood paralyzed in my own battle for survival.
Raising my staff I pointed it at the nearest channeler and flames roared outward. This was no focused line, flames raced outward in a massive cone, incinerating the channeler and everyone within thirty feet of him. The thrill of power erased my fear and I turned to engulf the second channeler in flames. The other three renewed their assault but they were no longer enough to contain me. I refocused the power in my staff and burned them down, one by one, with a tight beam of light and fire.
Before I could move again something struck me hard and I went flying backward, tumbling down the inside of our earthen mound. In shock I saw Penny rise up from where I had been standing, and I realized it had been her that struck me. She shouted something at me, but I couldn’t make out the words. She took a step toward me before the ballista bolt struck her down from behind.
It was a frozen moment of horror as I saw the wide bladed bolt head erupt from Penny’s chest. Crimson blood flew outward as it ripped through her and she stumbled and fell forward, shock and pain on her face. My mouth was open in a wordless scream as I ran back to her, but no sound came out. She lay in a heap, the thick wooden shaft had struck the ground first and her body slid slowly down the thick wood, toward the earth beneath her.
With strength I didn’t know I possessed I pulled her up, dislodging the spear head from the ground. I could feel her heart still beating but blood was pouring from the wound in a red tide. Somehow she was still conscious and her eyes met mine while her lips silently mouthed the words, “I’m sorry.” A second massive bolt whistled by as I awkwardly lifted her up and began running for the castle.
I became aware of Dorian and Marc running beside me, dragging what appeared to be Cyhan’s unconscious form between them. The enemy was swarming through our flimsy defenses on all sides now, forcing their way into the enclosure. Arrows from the defenders now on the walls flew out killing some of those that sought to reach us. Death was everywhere now but I had no time to spare for anything but forcing my legs to carry me faster toward the castle gate and safety.
What seemed to be an eternity passed as we ran for the stone archway, but in actuality it was only seconds. As we passed through men formed up within, holding spears to keep the invaders from entering till the last of our people had made their way in. A minute later the great doors began to close and the massive iron portcullis came down behind them with an echoing boom. Not daring to go further I eased Penny down and sent my mind out to examine her wound.
The internal damage was incredible. Her spine had been partly severed and a large artery in her abdomen was bleeding freely. Somehow her heart had been missed but one lung had collapsed and the other was damaged. Without pausing I sealed the artery to stop the loss of blood but I knew it was only a temporary measure, the organs it fed would soon die if I could not restore normal blood flow quickly.
Marc stood beside me and I looked at him with hope in my eyes, where my father had died for his absence, perhaps now Penny could be saved. “Please help her!” I begged. He nodded and I saw his focus move inward as he sought his Lady’s aid for Penny’s sake.
The cold voice that issued from his throat a moment later chilled me to the bone, “You have betrayed us wizard. Your bond is broken.”
I stared at him in shock, “She doesn’t have time for this. Please… you must save her!”
“She dies in your place, a fitting punishment for an oath-breaker. You should be dead as well,” said the voice of Millicenth without sympathy. Though the voice was hers I could see Marc’s face twitching as he began struggling with her internally.
> “Damn you Millicenth! If you do not help her now I will see you and all your kin dead by my own hand!” I shouted at him. It was an empty threat, but I was beyond reason now.
“You have chosen your fate,” she answered. “We can only hope death finds you before Mal’goroth does.” Marc’s face was twisting now into a rictus of agony as he fought against his goddess’ will. Tense seconds passed and then I felt more than saw her leave him. He fell to his knees beside me, with despair written on his face.
“She has abandoned us,” he said in a voice that held no hope.
I ignored him and returned my attention to Penelope. As with my father, I was faced with an impossible task. The shaft had to be withdrawn while at the same time her artery and damaged organs were repaired. It wasn’t something I could do from the outside. I looked up at Dorian, “Cut the head from the shaft,” I said, pointing to the wide steel point of the ballista bolt.
Drawing his sword again he severed it cleanly with one stroke. “What are you going to do?” he asked.
“Something stupid, if it doesn’t work we may both die. I want you to count to thirty and then withdraw the shaft,” I replied. I turned to Marc, “Hold her for me, I’m about to let go.” He nodded silently and moved to brace her as I released her body. “Lay her next to me, so I can see her face,” I added. He did so and Dorian crouched behind her, his hands on the thick wooden shaft. Lying beside her I looked into her pale face and spoke one last time, “Start counting Dorian.” I added a few more words in Lycian and then the world vanished as my mind left my body, spiraling into the dying form of the woman I loved.
Pain nearly overwhelmed me as the signals from Penny’s torn spine tore at me. Agony coursed through me as I sought to balance myself, to find a quiet place within her. I could feel her heart’s labored beating as it worked sluggishly to keep blood flowing through her. The first thing I did was to block the onslaught of impulses coming from her torn nerves and damaged spine, giving myself a respite from the pain. Then I focused on the wooden shaft that passed through her body. It had gone through her liver and the steel head had severed the artery that fed into it. It had also ripped one lung open and cut into numerous other organs as it passed.
I had already sealed the artery, to prevent her bleeding to death, but it would need to be reconnected. I didn’t dare do any of that until the wooden shaft was removed however. While I waited I drew the blood from her damaged lungs and mended the large cut that was there. Then I felt a great pulling as the wooden shaft was drawn out. New pain shot through her body, threatening to drive me into unconsciousness with her. If I lost control now we would both die.
Drawing on a strength of will I hadn’t known I possessed I ignored the pain and began closing the wounds left behind as the bolt was drawn. The liver itself was fairly simple but the large artery gave me trouble. Blood began rushing outward as I fought to reconnect the two separate parts. Panic threatened to destroy my resolve but I held firm, until at last the artery was whole again.
Once that was done I began fixing the numerous smaller injuries within her abdomen, repairing smaller vessels and restoring her other organs. One thing that had been miraculously undamaged was her womb. As I focused my attention there a shock ran through me, for a second heart beat within it. She was pregnant. My intentional lie had been an unintentional truth.
The life inside was tiny but strong. I could feel something akin to fear coming from it. Reaching out I soothed it with my mind, trying to reassure it. You’re safe, daddy’s here, I thought to myself and the unborn child seemed to respond. Emotions I had never imagined before ran through me and I determined I would do everything possible to save them both.
Only one task was left to me now, but it was the most daunting. If Penny was ever to live normally again I had to fix her spine, but the intricate complexity of the nerves there were beyond simple comprehension. I began slowly sorting through the damaged endings, trying to match them with their proper mates but the sheer number was too much for my mind. Fear ate at my confidence as I realized I could never hope to fix the damage there.
I paused, focusing on the now steady beating of her heart. As I listened to it I heard again the deeper beating of the earth below us, a deep primal sound that had existed long before either of us had been born. Reaching out with my mind I called to it again, please help me, I can’t fix this, but if it heard me it had no answer for me. I had been a fool to think something so vastly different could help me to heal a human being.
I can hear you now Mordecai, came the voice again. The voice of the stone-lady, though I had no eyes to see her with.
I know your name now, I answered mentally. You were Moira Centyr.
Yes! her triumphant response came. I had never hoped to remember that name.
Can you help me? I do not know how to fix this, I told her.
No. You must do it, but I can show you how. Relax your spirit. The mind cannot heal something so complex, you must feel it. Send your feelings through her; they know where the nerves should lead. Use that sensation to make it as it once was. Thinking will only bring your effort to ruin.
I focused on her words and sent myself along the channels that represented Penny’s spine. Relaxing I felt a light welling up from within and sensations began to flow again from her feet to her brain. An age passed as I lay within her, bathing in the light and feeling my way through every nerve in her body. I found more damage than I had known was there, things that had previously gone unnoticed. I fixed those as well.
Eventually I knew it was finished and I lay exhausted inside her body. My senses had gone dark and I could no longer feel anything beyond her flesh. My mind drifted and I wanted nothing more than to relax and sleep. I could feel a cool wind drawing my spirit away… calling me to some other place.
Stop! Moira’s voice came to me again. You must leave; you have been too long in this body.
I’m tired. I don’t know how to find my body anyway. Just let me sleep, I replied.
Use her eyes, wake her up!
Grumbling mentally I did as she asked, sending impulses into Penelope’s brain, rousing her from unconsciousness. Confusion swept through her, for she could feel me within her. Opening her eyes we could see my limp form lying on the ground beside her. A feeling of mutual affection passed between us and then I threw myself outward, seeking my own body. Darkness came over me and I drifted into oblivion, unsure if I had found my proper place or not.
Chapter 40
I woke slowly. Opening my eyes I could see I was back in my own bed. Penny lay quietly beside me, awake and staring back at me. Neither of us spoke for long minutes, content simply with the fact that the other was alive.
“I felt you,” she said softly. “I was dying but you wouldn’t let me go.”
A lump formed in my throat, “I couldn’t.”
“You almost died with me,” she said.
“Better that than the alternative,” I replied. “You really are pregnant by the way.”
“You told me that before,” she answered with a puzzled face. “Is the baby alright?”
“Yes, he’s fine,” I smiled.
Penny had always had a quick mind. “You lied before didn’t you? You didn’t know I was pregnant.”
I sighed, “Yes, but things worked out didn’t they?”
“You really are a bastard sometimes,” she replied, and then she kissed me to emphasize the point.
I pulled away for a moment, “You should be thanking me.”
“I think we came out even in this exchange,” she replied. “I saved you first.”
“Not that, I made some improvements while I was healing you,” I said with a smirk.
“What?”
“Don’t your breasts feel a bit different?” I added.
She sat up suddenly and brought her hands up to her chest. The sight of her frantically cupping herself made me laugh. “What did you do?” she said loudly.
“Well I always thought they could stand to be a lit
tle larger, so I added a bit to them,” I lied. The look of shock on her face was priceless. She began struggling to get out of her chain byrnie, writhing to escape the heavy metal and the padded tunic beneath it. Sometimes jokes work out better than you expect.
“They look just the same! What sort of game are you playing at?” she demanded once her torso was bare.
My laughter was uncontrollable now. “Relax I didn’t change a thing. They were perfect already anyway,” I reassured her.
“Then why would you say something like that?” she said. My eyes ran down her shoulders and over her beautiful curves. She was much more attractive without the mail and blood soaked tunic covering her. The look told her everything she needed to know. “You are unbelievable!” she shouted and picking up the bundle of heavy mail she dropped it on my face.
“Ow!” I exclaimed as I pushed the gory bundle off and stumbled out of the bed. “You didn’t have to do that!”
Her thoughts had already shifted. “How long do you think we’ve been up here?” she asked suddenly.
“I don’t even know how we got here. I suppose some of the men brought us,” I replied. Stepping to the window I looked out. The view would answer most of our questions more quickly than speculation.
Reality returned in a rush as I saw the men fighting for their lives outside. The army of Gododdin was pressing inward like a great wave against a rock. Most of their forces were clustered against the outside of the curtain wall as they sought to force their way past the defenders holding the breach in it. My eyes focused on the knot of men clustered atop the rubble there, where the fighting was most intense.
Sunlight glinting from shining silver armor showed me Dorian among them. Like a lion among lambs he slaughtered any who came near, his sword sweeping heads and limbs away as easily as a scythe cuts grass. Among the men who had fallen beside him I thought I could see Marc’s brightly colored surcoat. If it was him he wasn’t moving.
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