Sevenfold Sword: Unity

by Jonathan Moeller

  “I did,” said Third. “Long ago. Most likely before you were born, Lord Arliach.”

  “Impossible,” said Arliach, suspicion coming over his lined face for the first time. “The dark elves have been our bitter enemies since before we came to this land. You cannot possibly be what you claim to be. And you cannot be the woman from the vision of the Augurs.”

  “As to the vision, I cannot say,” said Calliande. She had slipped into the mien of the Keeper, cool and calm. She also seemed a little imperious, as she did when dealing with a lord or a nobleman who was refusing to see reason. Third appreciated the gesture. “But as for Third’s history, it is entirely true. She was once an urdhracos, a daughter of the dark elven lord known as the Traveler. One of the Traveler’s other daughters slew him, and Third was freed from his control. She confronted the dark power within her and subdued it, and became as she is now.”

  “I doubt not your word, Keeper of Andomhaim,” said Arliach, eyeing Third. “Still, a dark elven hybrid. The Augurs will not be pleased…”

  “I will speak for her before the Augurs, if necessary,” said Kyralion. “She stood with us against King Justin Cyros and the Necromancer of Trojas. At Kalimnos, the Maledicti seized control of the ancient wards in Cathair Selenias and directed them against us. Third went into the ruins to help break the spell.”

  “No one who goes into the ruins of Cathair Selenias returns,” said Arliach.

  “We did,” said Ridmark.

  “Third is the woman in flames from the vision,” said Kyralion. “What is more, she is a great warrior and a loyal friend. The Guardian Rhodruthain brought the Shield Knight and the Keeper here against their will. Third set out at once to find what had happened to them, and she crossed thirty-five hundred miles to come here.”

  Third said nothing, a flicker of pleasure mixing with her unease. She wasn’t sure how she felt that Kyralion thought so highly of her. But whatever the emotion was, she found that she liked it.

  “Perhaps we can discuss visions and prophecies later,” said Ridmark. “Unless I miss my guess, those muridachs we defeated will be back with aid as soon as possible.”

  “Yes,” said Arliach. “Yes, you speak wisdom, Shield Knight.” His eyes flicked to Oathshield’s burning blade. “I have no idea how a human became bonded to a high elven soulblade. But as you said, that is a tale for another time. Why did Rhodruthain bring you here?”

  “You know of the New God?” said Ridmark. “The Kratomachar?”

  A shadow went over Arliach’s wan face, and the other gray elves flinched.

  In perfect unison, Third noted.

  “The dark power foreseen by the Augurs,” said Arliach. “The defeat of the Sovereign was the herald of its coming.”

  “We are on a quest to stop its return,” said Ridmark. “We are traveling to the ruins of the Monastery of St. James in the Tower Mountains to speak with someone who has knowledge of the New God. On the way, we were attacked by muridach scouts, and we had no choice but to withdraw to the south. We thought to take shelter within the walls of Cathair Avamyr until they passed, but it seems that is no longer an option.”

  Arliach blew out a long breath, glanced back at his warriors, and nodded.

  “No,” said Arliach, “no, it is not. I am afraid you and your companions are in great danger, Shield Knight.”

  “From the muridachs,” said Ridmark.

  “More than you know,” said Arliach. “The muridachs have driven us to our final refuge in the Illicaeryn Jungle. We once maintained outposts on the borders of the jungle, and here in Cathair Avamyr, but all were destroyed. Never before in our history have the muridachs come forth in such numbers. Nerzamdrathus has…”

  Ridmark frowned. “Who?”

  “Nerzamdrathus,” said Arliach. “The Great King of the muridachs. He has brought all the muridach cities of the Deeps under his control, and he is the greatest commander of the muridachs that we have ever faced.” His mouth twisted. “But even Nerzamdrathus would not have been able to maintain his hold over the lords of the muridachs without the aid of that damned prophet.”

  “The prophet of the Lord of Carrion,” said Ridmark.

  “Yes,” said Arliach. “He has fired the muridachs into a frenzy. He claims that the Lord of Carrion shall rise in power and that the muridachs will devour the world. Worse, he is a wizard of great strength, a match for any of the Liberated. He has been training the muridach priests, raising them to new heights of power and strength. With Nerzamdrathus directing the muridach armies, the prophet backing his rule with sorcery, and the plague sapping our strength, the muridachs have won victory after victory.” His face was bleak. “We face total defeat, and soon. Perhaps before the year is out.”

  “I suspect that the prophet of the muridachs is the Maledictus Qazaldhar himself, or one of the other high priests of the Maledicti,” said Kyralion. “On our way here, we were attacked by an urdhracos under the control of the Maledicti.” He scowled. “Clearly the plague curse was the first step in a far larger plan.”

  “Weakening us so the muridachs could destroy us utterly,” said Arliach. “Perhaps you are right, Firebow. But if you are, it is too late. We can do nothing to stop the muridachs, and there are too few of us to flee to another land, even if we had the strength for such a journey. The best we can hope is to stave off the inevitable for some time.” He shook his head. “But our troubles are not yours, Shield Knight, though I fear you might have become trapped in them. What are your plans now?”

  “To leave Cathair Avamyr through the southern gate,” said Ridmark, “circle to the east, and continue to the Tower Mountains.”

  Arliach shared a look with his men, and again Third had the sense of unspoken communication between them.

  “I fear it is too late for that,” said Arliach. “Already two different muridach hosts are only a few miles north of Cathair Avamyr, and their kalocrypt scouts are circling around the western and eastern walls. Worse, a third muridach host is moving through the Deeps below our feet, and is using the cellars of the city to enter the surface.”

  “Why are you here, then?” said Ridmark. “If you know the muridachs are moving towards your final refuge in the jungle, why come all the way north to Cathair Avamyr?”

  A faint grimace went over Arliach’s face, the expression mirrored for an instant on the expressions of the other gray elven warriors. Third recognized the look of soldiers who were not happy with their orders but were attempting to carry them out anyway.

  “The High Augur commanded it,” said Arliach. “She did not believe that the muridachs had come south in such numbers, or that Nerzamdrathus had gathered so many different muridach lords under his command.” He shook his head. “We have been harried by kalocrypt raiders the entire time and had to take refuge in Cathair Avamyr. The guardians of the city drove off our pursuers, but a large number of them escaped and followed us here, and you know the rest.”

  “I see,” said Ridmark.

  He looked grim. Third wondered if he had realized the truth of their danger. He probably had.

  “Shield Knight,” said Arliach. “May I be blunt?”

  “Please,” said Ridmark.

  “I think you should come with us,” said Arliach. “I think that if you go any other direction but south, you will be killed and bring disaster to all of Owyllain.”

  “Because of the Seven Swords,” said Ridmark.

  “Yes,” said Arliach. “You have three of the Seven with you, do you not? The Swords of Death, Air, and Earth? The muridachs will recognize those Swords, and if any of them survived to report to their masters, they will realize that a tremendous opportunity has come their way. If they kill you, they can claim those Swords themselves.”

  “I know,” said Ridmark. “That is why we have the Swords with us. There is no safe place to put them. Sir Tamlin and Prince Krastikon are Swordborn and can carry the Swords without suffering ill effect. Sir Calem cannot use the powers of the Sword of Air without suffering harm.�
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  “But once the muridachs realize that you have the Swords, they will come for you in force,” said Arliach. “You slew the Necromancer and King Justin. Both were evil men, but can you imagine how much worse a muridach bearing one of the Seven Swords would be? A muridach necromancer arising with the Sword of Death, or a muridach tyrant wielding the Sword of Earth? If Nerzamdrathus had one of the Seven Swords, he would have destroyed the Liberated years ago.”

  He was right, Third knew. If they went north, west, or east, they would run into the waiting claws of the muridachs. They would be overpowered and killed, and the muridachs would claim the three Swords for themselves. King Hektor had reunified Owyllain save for Xenorium, but the realm might be destroyed by a muridach horde led by a wielder of one of the Seven Swords.

  “Then you suggest we go south with you?” said Ridmark.

  A strange sense of finality closed around Third, like the emotion she felt in the final moment before a battle. The Augurs and Lord Amruthyr both had foreseen that she was the woman in flames, that she would somehow save or destroy the gray elves. Third could not see how.

  Yet it seemed they had no choice but to flee south with the gray elven patrol.

  What else might happen that she had not foreseen?

  “Very well,” said Ridmark. “How shall we proceed?”

  “We’ll need to break out of the city first,” said Arliach. “Likely the muridachs left a guard at the southern gate, and we will need to punch through it. Then we must make for the Illicaeryn Jungle itself. We still control large sections of it near our…our final refuge.” He paused. “From there you can head northeast to the Tower Mountains and avoid the muridachs entirely.”

  “Very well,” said Ridmark. “Let’s move. The sooner we break out of Cathair Avamyr, the sooner we can speak more. I suspect we both shall have a great many more questions for each other.”

  “Yes,” murmured Calliande, her eyes on the gray elven warriors. “Yes, we shall.”

  ###

  Ridmark led the way through the ancient street, the others following him, the gray elven warriors and scouts spreading out around them.

  Watching them move was an uncanny experience.

  Experienced warriors developed a rhythm as they worked together. Ridmark and Third had fought alongside each other so many times that he could tell what she was planning to do at a glance. For that matter, Ridmark and Calliande had been in so many battles together that he could guess what she would do in a dangerous situation – whether she would unleash earth magic or fire magic or use the power of the Well to augment his speed and strength.

  But he had never seen anyone move with the eerie harmony of the gray elves.

  They flowed around each other like water, never tripping, never stumbling. The gray elves covered each other as they jogged from ruined house to ruined house, moving with grace and speed. And through it all, they remained silent. They did not even use hand signals to communicate, though they glanced at each other from time to time.

  That kind of coordination would make them lethal in battle. Even with their magic, Ridmark had wondered how the gray elven patrol had held off so many muridach warriors, and now he knew the answer.

  He was certain that they were communicating with each other without speech.

  Which, he suspected, explained a great deal about Kyralion.

  He had spoken of the Unity, said that he was not part of it. Ridmark had wondered if the Unity was the government of the gray elves. Calliande had suspected that the Unity was some sort of warding or defensive spell. It seemed that she had been half-right. What if the Unity was a mighty spell that let the gray elves converse without speech, to link their minds and act in fluid harmony without the need for words?

  Kyralion was resistant to magic. Perhaps that resistance to magic kept him from joining the Unity and communicating with the others without speech. Ridmark wondered if the gray elves were born as part of the Unity, or if they were joined to it as adults. If they were born to it, if Kyralion had always been cut off from the silent communication of his fellows…yes, that would explain a great deal. One of the gray elves, but not part of the Unity. One of the Liberated, but always an outsider, always alone. It also explained why he had such trouble with social graces. If most of the communication of the gray elves took place through the silent mental speech of the Unity, Kyralion would have had to learn such things by rote and memorization, rather than mimicking his elders as children usually did.

  Then they came into the square before the southern gate of Cathair Avamyr, and all speculation fled from Ridmark’s mind.

  It was time to fight.

  The southern gate was in better repair than the northern one. The arch was still intact, though the doors had been shattered and thrown down long ago. There nearly a hundred muridach warriors milling through the square. Ridmark wondered why they had not set out scouts or put themselves into formation, and then a shrill scream rang out over the square.

  The gray elves came to a sudden halt, rage flashing over their faces, and Ridmark saw what had drawn their attention.

  The muridachs had gathered into a half-circle around four of their berserkers. The creatures held down a gray elven warrior, each one grasping one of the warrior’s legs or arms. They had stripped the gray elf of his clothing and armor, and the warrior struggled naked in their grasp. His torso and legs were covered in blood, and Ridmark realized why a heartbeat later.

  The muridachs were eating him alive.

  The berserkers’ heads stabbed down, again and again, their mouths yawning wide as they plunged their chisel-like teeth into the gray elf’s body. They were tearing gobbets of flesh from the gray elf’s legs and chunks of viscera from his belly. The gray elf’s screams were raw and desperate and animal-like, his eyes bulging, his face a mask of pain. All the while the muridach soldiers hooted and cheered like men watching a show.

  “Take them!” shouted Arliach, starting a spell, fires blazing around his free hand.

  The four muridach berserkers looked up, snarling. One of them reached down and slashed the screaming gray elf’s throat. The sheer pettiness of it enraged Ridmark. They had tormented the gray elf, and now the muridachs wanted to ensure that no one would ever rescue him.

  The gray elven archers released their arrows, and the swordsmen cast their spells. Arliach’s fireball exploded amid the berserkers crouched over the dead gray elf, flinging them to the ground as flames chewed into their fur. The archers sent a volley of arrows into the muridach warriors, and the swordsmen hurled fire and lightning and ice into the ratmen.

  The spells and arrows killed a score of the creatures, and the rest charged in a screaming mass towards the gray elves.

  There was no time for planning, no time for tactics. Ridmark raised Oathshield, drawing on the sword’s power to strengthen and hasten him. Calliande and Tamara both cast spells, and the ground folded and heaved, throwing dozens of muridach warriors to the ground. The four berserkers howled in rage and charged, their fur still burning, and Kalussa hurled a crystalline sphere through the head of one.

  Then the muridachs crashed into them, and there was no time for thought, no time for Ridmark to do anything but focus on his own defense.

  He found himself facing one of the muridach berserkers, the stench of burned flesh and fur rolling off its body. The creature slashed its huge bronze axe at Ridmark, and he dodged, stepping into the attack. Before the enraged berserker could recover its balance, Ridmark stabbed, driving Oathshield through the damaged bronze armor and into its heart.

  The berserker’s roar of fury withered to a gurgle, and Ridmark ripped Oathshield free and turned to face a trio of muridach warriors who rushed him. Ridmark had to retreat, snapping his sword left and right to deflect their attacks. Something dark appeared behind the muridach on his left, and with a flash of a blue short sword, Third killed the warrior. The ratman fell with a screech, and the other two turned to face the new threat. Ridmark seized the opening and brought hi
s soulblade hammering down, tearing open a warrior’s neck. The final muridach tried to retreat, and Third stabbed her swords, her blades slicing open the back of the ratman’s legs. The muridach bellowed, and Ridmark finished it off with a stab.

  He raised Oathshield again, the crimson blood sliding off the white blade, and saw the gray elves tearing into the muridachs. Whatever else could be said about the Unity, whatever it really was, Ridmark had to admit that it made the gray elves into fearsome warriors. They were obviously ill, the strange plague draining their strength and stamina. Yet they fought in perfect, synchronized harmony, the swordsmen covering each other and stepping aside in time to let the archers shoot past them.

  It helped that Tamlin, Calem, and Krastikon were ripping through the muridachs, the three Swords leaving dismembered pieces of ratmen in their wake. Kalussa kept up a steady volley of crystalline spheres and fire globes. Calliande used her magic to knock the muridachs off their feet, and Tamara summoned curtains of acidic mist.

  Another pair of berserkers came at Ridmark and Third. She waited until the last minute and spun to the side, her blades flying around her. The first berserker stumbled as Third’s swords sliced through its hamstrings, and the creature stumbled with a roar of pain and rage. Ridmark’s chop to the neck killed the berserker, and he turned to face the second creature. It lunged at Third, and she dodged around the sweep of the blades of its axe, the movement almost dancelike. Ridmark took the opportunity to attack, using Oathshield to augment his speed. The soulblade found a gap in the armor, sliding into the muridach’s chest and gashing its lungs. Ridmark wrenched the sword free as the berserker gurgled, and Third opened its throat with a quick slash.

  The surviving muridachs had seen enough. The creatures whirled and fled. Ridmark expected them to retreat through the southern gate, but instead, they broke into a dozen smaller groups that scattered into the alleys and streets leading off the square.