Rowyn grinned, shaking his head. “Chimaera.”
“You eat them?” Alanna sputtered, holding her skewer at arm’s length, but only slowing her chewing of the bite she’d already taken.
Rowyn shrugged, smiling as he finished chewing. “The flank is the only edible part, small, and not the easiest to harvest. It’s easier to poison or burn the whole carcass in most cases. For special occasions, we take the time.”
“Anneliese is probably pretty good at that,” Kevon laughed.
“She carved about half of the chimaera for this meal,” Rowyn agreed. “Like she’d been doing it for a lifetime.”
“And she didn’t warn us!” Alanna squeaked, lobbing a chunk of apple fished from her cup at the giggling elf.
Anneliese parried the hurled fruit with her skewer. “Hah!” she shouted, louder than she normally would in combat.
Heads turned, and the Huntmistress leaned into Carlo’s side, giggling. “Don’t eat too much of the fruit!” she whispered, wide eyed.
* * *
“We leave in the morning,” Carlo announced after the evening meal.
“There are still three days before the others get here,” Kevon mentioned. “We’re barely rested from the trip here.”
“With similar support from Ashera’s Wing, we should be able to destroy the two nests with relative ease,” Carlo explained. “Clearing the way, the others should catch up with us as we reach Seacliff Camp. That’s where we’ll need the help, anyway. It’ll buy us two days. It’ll keep us moving. It puts their new Riders in a much better position.”
“If you think we can do it,” Kevon shrugged.
“I’d rather not have the other troops underfoot until we absolutely need them,” Carlo grunted. “We have the training and experience to clear the nests out, and you have the know-how to shut the portals down if we find them. We’ll need fighters that know the layout of the Camp when we reach it, but not really until then. Besides, the more we do for them, the more help we’ll get when we need it.”
“Agreed.” Kevon nodded. “Holding the location once we find the Seat of Wind may be costly.”
* * *
“You should really get some sleep,” Alanna whispered, snuggling in closer under the blanket. “It’s the last night we’ll be this safe.”
Kevon felt the press of her form against his back, still dulled by the subsiding venom of the chimaera sting. He shivered as the words floated through his mind, their passage punctuated by the tickle of her lips on his earlobe. Kevon smiled and clasped her draped arm tighter to his chest. His breath and pulse slowed and aligned with hers, each heartbeat a lunge toward unconsciousness.
Chapter 39
“To arms!”
Kevon slipped free of the bedroll, scrambling to his feet, cursing his impulsiveness as his magic drained into the hilt of his sword. The others were up, blinking into the pre-dawn gloom, searching for the danger Carlo’s voice had warned of.
“Really?” Jacek grumbled, as his Mage-light brightened the campsite, exposing Kevon’s drawn sword.
Kevon shrugged, and bolted after Kylgren-Wode and the Stoneguard.
Carlo stood near the corpse of one chimaera, and sidestepped to keep in front of the one that remained. Anneliese circled, trying to get a clear shot, but the wary creature kept Carlo between them.
“Pah!”
Kevon watched as the Stoneguard hurled his battleaxe, the unwieldy weapon spinning end over end, slicing cleanly through an outstretched wing to embed in the beast’s shoulder.
The chimaera roared, turning toward the new threat. Its tail lashed forward, curling around the axe-handle, prying it backward for an instant before releasing it.
Carlo leapt at the chance, hacking at the chimaera’s other outstretched wing, then at its tail. He blocked a backhanded swing from the creature’s massive paw, rocking back on his heels from the impact. Recovering from the blow, Carlo stepped further inside, first batting aside a wing-strike with his shield, then severed the already tattered wing with a counter-stroke.
The Stoneguard punched the chimaera in its leonine jaw with a mailed fist as he marched into range on the beast’s stricken side. He wrenched his axe free, whirling with the same motion to bury it back in the chimaera’s throat.
Raptor-calls sounded from above, the Riders stationed in camp already in the air, searching for more assailants.
“Clear,” Carlo shrugged, wiping his blade on the fallen beast’s hide. “Time to get up anyway.”
“We knew the risk, staging so close to this nest,” Kevon shrugged. “That’s two we know won’t be there later.”
“The last nest was nothing,” Carlo grunted. “Five adults and a dozen eggs. Talk is that this next one is the largest nest on the Highplain.”
“Ashera says the Striders will catch up with us by noon,” Kevon offered. “If we want to wait.”
The Blademaster sniffed. “Two more Wings of Riders due here just after dawn. That covers scouting. The dwarves and I can draw them out. Anneliese and her Hunter covering the flanks, my guys with crossbows. You, Jacek, Yusa, and Alanna in reserve. We’ll need the Magi fresh if there is a portal, and she’s the best mid-range fighter we have if something breaks through.”
“With a plan like that…”
“I’ve done more with less,” Carlo interrupted. “But nothing goes exactly to plan.”
Kevon nodded, recalling the fiery cataclysms two of his plans had erupted into over the last few years.
“Breakfast done and camp struck before the other Riders arrive,” Carlo barked. “Go.”
* * *
“Focus your bow-fire on outliers,” Carlo directed Ashera, sweeping his pointer-stick in wide circles to either side of the dirt map between them. “Leave the rest for our ground forces, try to funnel them toward us.”
“I’ll assign a wing to either side,” she agreed, nodding. “My wing will drive them to you, though I can’t promise they’ll all make it to your lines.”
“I’d hate for you to make a promise you couldn’t keep,” Carlo grimaced. “Have one Rider hold station over the nest. No surprises. If we move now, we should be there in less than an hour.”
“Commander.” Ashera nodded slowly, still not used to taking orders from anyone, much less an outlander.
“Sense anything?” Carlo asked, turning to Kevon.
“No,” Kevon frowned. “Approaching the Seat of Wind, the magic in the area is… distracting. I can see how Jacek could feel it from the air.”
“As long as it won’t interfere with what you need to do,” Carlo turned to address Kevon directly. “Slip-ups like this morning are dangerous. We could have used an extra Mage. If we’re going to protect you from two Guilds, you’ve got to work at least twice as hard at this as anyone else.” He glanced back at Ashera. “As soon as your Riders are in the air, we’ll form up and move out.”
* * *
Kevon clenched at the Movement rune in his mind, and the chimaera directly ahead lifted its face to the sky, paws stretching downward in an attempt to gain purchase in the turf below. Two arrows struck the beast in the throat and chest. Kevon relaxed his focus and scanned for his next target.
Sensing the similar rune projecting from Yusa beside him, Kevon offered power to Reko. The grasses ahead writhed, and parted. Tall greenish-brown stalks coiled around feline forepaws and ram hindquarters, pulling the now revealed chimaera down to splay flat against the ground. Additional stalks caught the fanged tail, reducing the lashing motion to a quivering strain.
The magical outflow subsided as the Stoneguard scampered forward and severed most of the beast’s head with his axe.
The Riders in the wing to the south spiraled downward, loosing arrows at stray chimaera that sought to circle the ground forces. The northern Wing held a long oval pattern higher up, seeing nothing in the shorter grasses to the main group’s right flank. Extra riderless griffin, the Unbound, crisscrossed the skies above the battlefield, dropping arrow-fast at random inter
vals to harass or maim the surrounded chimaera.
Rowyn and a handful of Striders charged forward, greatswords flashing, into a tangle of chimaera on the left flank.
“Good to see you!” Carlo bellowed, directing the rest of the forces to shift to the right.
Kevon stumbled on a rock protruding from the dirt, then stepped back to put a hand on the stone. He sensed the outline of the formation running deep into the plateau, to where the latent magic was separate from the distracting lattice of Wind energy that poked at his awareness.
The grass ahead rustled, and Kevon directed the energy from below into a spear of stone that hurtled from the ground, through the hidden chimaera’s chest, and out its back. The beast, lifted above the height of the surrounding grass, shuddered for a few seconds, and fell still.
Roars of enraged chimaera, screeches of swooping Unbound, and the near joyful cries of the Striders and the lone Stoneguard melded into a frantic melody, lives ending with each refrain.
Kevon’s magic trickled to nothing, helping Reko divert the murderous leap of a large chimaera toward Carlo. Reaching deeper, but finding nothing left, he gritted his teeth, and drew his sword.
The spiral formation to the left lifted and flattened, the Wing had cleared out all of the outlying chimaera, and retreated to a suitable viewing distance.
Ashera’s Wing pressed toward the ground forces, driving the last wave of chimaera before them, crowding the Unbound out of the skies above the battlefield.
“Hold fast!” Carlo commanded, edging forward as he motioned the archers back.
Projectiles from the archers and crossbowmen whizzed in a curious rhythm as the menacing shapes continued their advance.
Forced from the higher grass, the remnants of the advancing pride roiled into the open. Lacking the speed of their younger counterparts, the older chimaera more than compensated with their size and experience.
“They’re shifting to the left!” Kevon called, directing Carlo’s attention to the knot of chaos the Striders were about to engage. He and the Blademaster broke formation, and the archers spread to cover the gaps.
One of the elder chimaera leapt toward the Striders, flapping wings and twisting its body to land on one side of the group. A backhanded strike knocked a greatsword aside, the reverse stroke crumpling its bearer to the ground. The beast roared, rearing back on its hind legs, wings spread.
Rowyn shifted his advance toward the attacker, his sword flashing at angles that played reflected light across the chimaera’s face. The beast waved a paw between itself and the advancing Strider, then dropped back to all fours.
Half a breath later, Rowyn was charging at full speed. The greatsword completed another revolution and a half, steadying as the Strider shifted his grip to balance the blade straight forward, braced at his side.
The chimaera flapped its left wing, and spun to the right, tail whipping out to coil around Rowyn’s leg. The Strider stepped over the tail with his free leg, planting his foot sideways to arrest his forward momentum. Before Rowyn could shift his blade to attack the imprisoning tail, the chimaera continued its spin, pulling the trapped leg forward, and lashing out with a powerful hooved hind leg of its own. The strike caught Rowyn squarely in the side, below the ribs. The Strider flopped to the ground, dropping his sword.
Two of Rowyn’s companions charged. A volley of crossbow bolts and arrows struck the chimaera, but the distance and thicker hide deflected all of the projectiles.
The chimaera completed its turn, dragging Rowyn’s limp form to bounce twice across clumps of Highplain grasses before releasing it to tumble into a heap off to one side.
The two Striders continued to close the distance between themselves and their target, stepping apart to split its attention. They defended strikes from the fanged tail, lacerating the envenomed appendage as they kept it from themselves.
Each breath brought the archers closer. An outstretched wing turned aside most of the next volley, but one arrow managed to sink into the beast’s lower right ribcage. The chimaera snarled and snapped at the feathered shaft, craning its neck as far as it could, to no avail. It straightened to roar at the nearest Strider, tensing its legs for the leap that would overwhelm the lightly armored attacker.
Griffin cries sounded from close above, and a handful of arrows rained down on the chimaera from the sky. One shaft fell true, burying itself in the creature’s scaly back, just below where its left wing sprouted.
The chimaera looked up, swiping first one paw, then the other, at the Riders that were pulling out of their dives to regroup. Ashera and Stormclaw veered off at the last second, and the chimaera returned its attention to the remaining Striders, who had maneuvered closer.
Rowyn leapt over the chimaera’s twitching tail, bounded off of the creature’s rear haunch, and plunged his twin shortswords into its back, just above its wing-sockets. The chimaera bucked and flapped its wings in an attempt to dislodge the Strider, but Rowyn gripped the sword hilts tighter, twisting as hard as he could, crying out from the effort.
The chimaera turned from the Striders ahead, and bounded toward the south end of the battlefield. Three gigantic leaps, and the creature stumbled, left shoulder and wing taking the brunt of the impact.
Rowyn sprang clear before the injured chimaera could roll over and crush him, freeing only one of the short blades from its temporary sheath. The Strider tumbled, sprang to his feet, and rushed the wounded chimaera. Noting the blank gaze and flailing paws, Rowyn hopped inside the creature’s reach and slid over its shoulder, the trailing blade slicing open the beast’s neck as his left hand grasped the other sword. Standing to apply the force required to free the stuck blade, Rowyn hopped over the clumsy whip-lash of the chimaera’s tail to the ground beyond. Without a backward glance, he leaned into a sprint back toward the rest of the battle.
Kevon and Carlo reached the other Striders as two more elder chimaera had almost succeeded in circling to angles that would give them the upper hand. Kevon split off to the right, slashing at the tail of the larger chimaera.
A gleaming dagger spun to the ground, deflected by the flap of a leathery wing. A second dagger found its mark, sinking into the chimaera’s skull just behind the ear.
“Alanna!” Kevon cried, watching in terror as she cartwheeled over the backswing of the creature’s tail to land right next to it. A blur of flashing edges and soft curves, and she was at his side, chest heaving, blades dripping crimson.
The chimaera stumbled, hamstrung. Carlo and one of the Striders pressed the advantage, dispatching the beast before it could regain its footing.
“You called, dear one?” Alanna pointed one of her daggers past Kevon to another advancing chimaera. “Can it wait?”
Kevon’s mind lurched as he watched Rowyn leap at the other chimaera the Striders were engaging, his recovered greatsword glinting as he swung. Another slash as he landed, followed by a spinning back kick with a mailed boot, and the beast toppled.
“Right,” Kevon whispered, turning the direction the assassin pointed. “Of course it can.”
* * *
“Don’t whine. At least the swelling has gone down.”
“I’m not whining,” Kevon whined. “And how do you…” He trailed off, glancing at Alanna’s healed eye. He scratched at the bandages around his ribs, and touched the poultice bound at his side.
“Are you sure there’s a portal there?” Alanna asked, nose wrinkling. “I can’t see one, and we’re close.”
“I can feel it now, even though the Wind distortion here is worse,” Kevon nodded. “It’s not hidden or warded like the first one we destroyed.”
“Magi don’t come here,” Rowyn laughed. “Why would they bother?”
“That one was orcs, imps, and leapers,” Carlo fiddled with his shield, adjusting the straps a bit. “Why only chimaera here?”
“So no one would suspect?” Relaniel offered. “Chimaera are native to the Highplain. Creating only portals to chimaera habitats in the Dark realm would
be a subtle way to shift the balance in their favor.”
“We’ve got to move before we lose the light,” Kevon piped up.
“Right,” Carlo agreed. “Half the Striders, all the Riders, we’ll need here with the Potentials, and our noncombatants.” He frowned. “On second thought, Ashera’s Wing would be good to have as our lookout. Ten minutes to split up and prepare. Then we move.”
Kevon nodded and made his way over to where Jacek crouched facing Rhysabeth-Dane.
“This is so exciting!” the librarian squeaked. “Jacek says this set of markings reminds him of the sigils he’s seen tattooed on Myrnar royalty!”
“I…” Kevon staggered, and Alanna caught his arm. Flashes of memory from years ago, faint raised lines and swirls that he’d overlooked on the arms of the male Myrnar in the negotiation for the pearl. “Yes. I should have remembered that.”
Alanna said nothing, but her eyes narrowed more than usual, and her jaw tightened at the mention of the past.
“We’ll need to form up for departure,” Kevon placed a hand on Jacek’s shoulder. “They’ll want us in the center, saving up to deal with the portal when we reach it.”
“Yes, yes… I…” Jacek handed Rhysabeth-Dane the sheet of parchment he’d been studying. “It’s fascinating.”
“Focus!” Kevon commanded. “We have the chance to set things right here that have been out of balance for two generations, rout the darkness from this place.” He took a step back and sighed. “The book may be important, but the portal is now. Relaniel, Rhysabeth, will you join the potential Riders in the center of camp?”
“Hope you’re ready,” Rowyn chuckled, leading the short columns of Striders that split to form up on either side of the Magi.
“We all are,” Carlo rumbled, directing Anneliese and the two dwarves to the front where Rowyn had already taken up his position.
Blademage Adept (The Blademage Saga Book 3) Page 19
