Thawed Fortunes (The Guadel Chronicles Book 2)

by Murray, Dean

  The first clash of arms reached the soldiers below, and the Baron started yelling at one of his captains to get the portcullis up and bring in reinforcements while he led the remaining men in to clear out the keep.

  Peters waved his men closer, and then calmly aimed his crossbow at the first man running towards the steps to the gatehouse. The Baron's man took the bolt in the chest and only made it up two more steps before losing his balance and crashing to the courtyard below. The oaths and near panic from the rest of the Baron's men were eminently satisfying.

  Lowering the portcullis was a right dandy idea when the lowlanders thought the People might still come back and attack, but now they were stuck inside with several dozen Guadel and the portcullis was making it impossible to bring in more reinforcements.

  "Stagger your shots and stay out of the line of fire of those archers below. The route up to the gatehouse is completely exposed from this direction, and if you move around and keep them guessing at your real numbers, you may be able to bluff them for a little while."

  The four men he'd pointed at nodded, and Peters waved for the other five to follow him. The plan called for Peters and his men to stay up on the battlements, but Va'ma and the rest had never anticipated that Peters would be dealing with so many archers, or that the doors would remain open until after Vladir realized his home had turned into a colossal trap. It was time to get inside and see if they couldn't join up with more of the Guard before running into a full squad of the other guys.

  ##

  Vladir stalked inside the castle followed by a group of his best men. "You, set up archers there and there. The mage says that the witches are doing something. We need to ensure that the men already inside aren't cut off before they can return and report on what they find."

  Of course, if Kra'ven was worth even half of what I pay him, he'd be able to do more than mutter about how dangerous the women can be if encountered on their own ground. He's never once exposed himself to the slightest danger.

  A series of short-lived, muted screams echoed up from further inside the keep, and the Baron bit back an oath as he saw just how unsettled his men were. The near-constant fear of him that he'd spent so long instilling in them was only barely greater than the terror inspired by hundreds of tales about the ghosts who lived in the White Spikes, and the unnatural powers traditionally attributed to them.

  Picking out the man who looked the most likely to flee if things got any worse, Vladir casually backhanded him into the nearest wall. "We stay here and fight. They'll not best us on our own ground and I'll cut down the first one as even thinks about running."

  A fight inside where his knights would be on foot, and all but useless, was the quickest way to lose men, but he couldn't afford the appearance of weakness. The men were starting to fear Kra'ven nearly as much as they feared him, and another defeat, or even a retreat, would put his authority with the refuse that made up his army on shaky ground.

  ##

  Va'ma had met up with three other Guadel several minutes before, and was trying to fight through to the main door, but was facing ever-increasing resistance. Powers curse these lowlanders, Si'mon was right. We should have closed the main door a quarter cycle into the ambush.

  One of the Guadel in the group had found his augmentation abruptly stripped away from him a few minutes ago, but luckily it had happened in between engagements and he'd survived for the critical few seconds it took for him to readjust to normal time flow. Despite the growing risk that one or more of his wives would tire and drop out of the link, Va'ma charged into the newest batch of swordsmen impeding his progress towards the door.

  The hulking Guadel parried a vicious blow away from his head, and dispatched the soldier with an economical slash to the throat, and then looked around in surprise as Baron Vladir appeared at the end of the hall, flanked by a trio of archers on either side.

  Va'ma sprinted down the hall, followed by the two still-augmented Guadel, and prayed that his wives could hold on just long enough for him to cut Vladir down.

  The first flight of arrows came humming through the air towards the three warriors, but fully augmented as he was, Va'ma found it easy to swat aside the closest three, trusting his companions to defend themselves from the remaining trio of projectiles.

  A dull rumble of footsteps behind him announced the fact that the guardsmen, with their slower mental processes, had finally realized what was happening and joined the charge, but Va'ma dismissed the fact as unimportant. The archers would only have time for one more flight.

  Still fifteen steps away as the archers drew back again, Va'ma raised his dagger to parry the next flight, only to feel his world spin as Verona, his youngest wife, disappeared from his mind, dropping from the link.

  Time seemed to speed up, flowing faster than he could react, and rods of fire pierced him as four of the six arrows hit before he could adjust and try to deflect them.

  ##

  Se'ath saw Va'ma start to fall, unearthly grace turning into wooden clumsiness, and the confusion and contradicting thoughts that had been plaguing him all morning disappeared. Va'del's calm explanation of fear as a natural response to danger was no longer pitting itself against the stories he'd heard all his life about mythical heroes who'd faced death without ever blinking, without ever wavering from their duty.

  Va'ma hit the ground, tangled up with the Baron, just a few feet in front of Se'ath and he suddenly realized that he was still running, that the fear that had plagued him all morning had been replaced with something he couldn't recognize.

  One of the Baron's men was before him, and hundreds of cycles of training took over. The exchange was lightning-quick and then Se'ath was stepping past the corpse at his feet, seeking his next opponent, finally part of something bigger than just himself, finally knowing his place and purpose in the world. There were worse things than dying, but he'd known that for a while. For the first time he understood that there were things that were much better than just living.

  ##

  Jameson seemed to be trying to talk despite a chest wound that was almost sure to be fatal, but Peters could hear an enemy squad stomping up the stairs to their left, so he passed his crossbow and quarrels back to the other new man they'd picked up just before Jameson, and drew his sword. "No time, Jameson. Just hang on until this rush is over, and make your shot count."

  Going to the great hall where they could shoot down at the enemy troops as they appeared had seemed like a brilliant idea up until Peters had realized just how many enemy troops were actually running around the castle already. They'd had to fight off three attacks already from groups that had crept up to the second floor and then charged Peters' position.

  Another group, eight men this time, rushed their position, but well-aimed shots felled half of them and then it was down to sword work again. As the last opponent fell, Peters looked around at his men. Nearly everyone sported some kind of minor wound but only Jameson's injury was serious so far.

  Since Peters had led his small band down from the battlements, he'd picked up a few reinforcements, which had been helpful but disheartening because most of them had ended up unattached when the Guadel they were following had dropped out of link at the wrong time and died. Jameson hadn't had a chance to tell his story before being injured, but it was a safe bet that Javin had been cut down or Jameson would have still been with him.

  The sound of running footsteps behind him brought Peters back around, but he got a hand up in time to stop his men from shooting the newcomers, who turned out to be two of the men he'd left up above to ensure that the portcullis wasn't raised.

  "Their mage cut Vincent and Jonas down. We were keeping them from making it up the stairs, and then suddenly they both burst into flames. With just two of us we couldn't reload fast enough to keep them out of the gate house."

  Peters felt the crushing weight of his duty increase as he realized that the reinforcements about to enter the keep would take their situation from the worst he'd ever seen to c
ompletely impossible. "We'll deal with the reinforcements as they arrive. Get those crossbows reloaded."

  "No, sir. There won't be any reinforcements. Once the portcullis was up, the mage led everyone still in the courtyard out to the men outside and turned them around. They're running away."

  Hope blossoming inside him once again, Peters bent down to reload Jameson's crossbow. The dying guardsman pulled him down closer.

  "We got cut off from Javin. Large group...headed towards the sisters."

  Jameson was dead before Peters fully registered the trooper's words, but there wasn't time to treat the bloodied body with the respect it deserved.

  Prying his quiver of quarrels from lifeless fingers, Peters turned on the rest of his tiny band. "Upstairs, and move it, we've got an emergency."

  ##

  Va'del's weapons were nearby, but he'd been strictly instructed to stay where he was and not get involved in the fighting. He was anxious to be up and helping, but his body was still weak from blood loss, and even Jain was too exhausted to do anything to speed his recovery.

  Despite still being unable to stand without getting lightheaded and nearly falling down, Va'del had demanded his bed at least be placed near the door. It was a hollow gesture, considering his condition and the fact that Vi'en had worn herself down to nothing in her efforts to bring her sisters out of their dependent conditions, but it made him feel a little better.

  One of the women in the back corner gasped in pain and then broke out in tears. Jeeves looked up from the doorway with concern on his face, but didn't leave his post.

  When Va'del tried to pull himself out of bed, the slightly older Guadel shook his head. "There isn't anything you can do for her right now and you'll either hurt yourself or distract one of the other women while you're trying to get over there."

  "Her husband's dead, isn't he?"

  Jeeves nodded. "Most likely. Our plan extends out the length of time that everyone can engage while augmented, but it relies an awful lot on the enemy remaining dispersed for quite a while. We're bound to lose at least a few more before this is over."

  Va'del was just about to once again express his frustration with not being able to go help, when Jeeves spun back towards the door. The move started out completely unaugmented to begin with, but the change in the fluidity of the motion made it plain that one or more of his three wives was desperately trying to augment him.

  Jeeves was almost fast enough to deflect the crossbow bolt that seemed to appear out of nowhere, managing to just barely stop it from hitting his heart.

  Va'del pulled himself to his feet as the man who was supposed to protect the female Guadel tumbled away in a spray of blood, and he somehow wasn't surprised when it was Be'ter who strode calmly into the room.

  "I should have known you'd be hiding in here with the women. When Kra'ven told me that there was an amazing amount of power being wielded in this room I didn't think I'd get the pleasure of killing you at the same time I ripped the heart out of the rest of the Guadel."

  Be'ter was casually looking around the room, but Va'del found himself strangely unconcerned. There was no way that Mali could match Vi'en for sheer power and Va'del was between Be'ter and everyone else. Be'ter wasn't going to be able to get to Jain without Va'del cutting him down first.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Va'del saw Vi'en go motionless, and then he felt the familiar sense of pressure in his head as she tried to force herself past his defenses. Just as he succeeded in lowering his barriers enough for her to begin the augmentation process, Be'ter sent the knife in his left hand spinning through the air towards Vi'en.

  There was a brief flash of pain, and then the link dissolved.

  ##

  Jain saw the dagger streak through the air and bury itself in Vi'en's chest, and it felt as though her heart would break as Va'del's movements once again become relatively clumsy and unsure.

  Trying to avoid attracting Be'ter's notice, Jain moved over to the older woman's side, but half-formed plans to try and heal the woman were discarded as it became painfully obvious that the wound was far beyond her meager powers.

  Be'ter was taunting Va'del now, and despite Jain's best efforts to block the words out they seemed to burrow into her mind.

  "Mali told me you'd gotten married. I figured something like that would happen once you realized you'd picked yourself the weakest of all the Daughters. She claimed you refused to link with the old hag though. Almost had me convinced until you ran off with Jain and the others."

  Vi'en was trying to say something past the blood filling up her lungs. Jain leaned closer.

  "Jain, Va'del's Goddess-touched too. Like us. When you link, draw through him first to power the augmentation."

  Va'del was tottering slightly, but he had both his weapons out, and was plainly readying himself to attack Be'ter despite the fact he didn't have a chance.

  Be'ter's smile was cold. "I'm actually glad things worked out the way they did. You see, the only reason I didn't kill you the last time we fought was because Mali held back. I've broken her of that habit now though."

  Jain reached towards Va'del's mind, and felt the forbidding walls he presented to the rest of the world come down, his thoughts seeming to reach out and welcome her inside him.

  The tiny doubts Be'ter's implications had created died under a complete certainty that Va'del loved her for herself rather than for the power she represented, and she reached out and pulled power into herself.

  Mindful of Vi'en's dying words, Jain pulled the raging energies through Va'del first, and was amazed by their relative calm when they reached her.

  For all that the power was easier to work, Jain nearly lost her grasp on the threads of fire when she realized that the link was somehow different, that the shadowy presence that was Va'del's mind was somehow as much inside her as she was inside it.

  It's okay. I don't have any secrets from Va'del.

  Working as swiftly as she was able, Jain wove the threads of augmentation over and through Va'del's body, and then opened her eyes to examine the multicolored pattern of energy that was the result of her efforts.

  Be'ter and Va'del went from staring at each other to fighting faster than Jain could follow, but she didn't let her amazement interfere with the steady stream of power she was feeding into her beloved.

  Her very weakness limited the extent to which she could filter power through Va'del, so the two men were more closely matched than Jain would have believed possible. Instead of ending suddenly after just a few passes as Jain had expected, the fight between Va'del and Be'ter seemed to stretch for an impossible length of time.

  Streaks of blood appeared on both men almost faster than the human eye could register. Moving with a savageness that Jain had never seen in him before, Va'del pushed Be'ter back a couple of steps into the hall before seeming to stall out and lose all momentum.

  Jain didn't need to see the wounds covering Va'del's body to know that their net effect was serious, she could feel them through the link. Strength was flowing out of Va'del faster even than the link could replace it, but Jain pulled more fiery agony through her being and shored him up as much as she was able.

  The concern and weariness flowing back to Jain through the link served as a goad, and she continued to augment Va'del long past the point where her depleted body normally would have collapsed in exhaustion. Determination eventually proved unequal to her failing flesh, and she felt the glowing strands of augmentation slip through her mental fingers as she lost consciousness.

  ##

  Va'del felt his death approaching with a certainty that should have scared him. He couldn't stop Be'ter, and once Va'del failed, Be'ter was going to slaughter all of the female Guadel.

  Strangely enough, his impending death didn't scare Va'del. Instead it placed an odd kind of distance between him and his anger, a distance that was allowing him to do things he never would have believed possible.

  Jain's collapse had left Be'ter with a dreadful advantage, and it was
all Va'del could do to follow lightning-fast strikes that impacted with more power than any one man should be able to generate. Moving more by instinct and feel than sight and conscious thought, Va'del strung together a chain of parries, blocks and ripostes that just barely allowed him to hold his ground at the price of a few more shallow wounds.

  Be'ter reeled back from the exchange, and for a second Va'del's mind refused to make sense of the red streak on the older boy's arm. It isn't possible.

  Rage seemed to wash over Be'ter, the icy edges of it reaching out to try and suck away Va'del's hard-won calm. "I'll kill her. They're all dead, but I'll make sure she suffers before I finally slit that pretty, white throat."

  A vision of Jain dead in a pool of her own blood seemed to form before Va'del's eyes with a surge of emotions that skittered over the surface of his shrinking detachment. If Be'ter had waited a few more heartbeats, Va'del might have lost his internal war, and the focus that had kept him alive so far. Instead Be'ter sprang forward with a scream, and blades swooped and darted between them in a flowing veil.

  Pain blossomed on Va'del's leg, then his arm, and somehow his body seemed to anticipate the next blow, moving so that Be'ter's sword struck empty space, and then bringing his dagger around in a short thrust that left it embedded in the taller boy's chest.

  Once again, Va'del's mind seemed unable to understand what he was seeing. Be'ter's sword was falling from hands no longer able to grip it, tumbling downward with a laziness that was impossibly slow.

  For a moment Be'ter's eyes still overflowed with hate, but before his weapon had even finished falling to the ground the rage disappeared, replaced with contrition so practiced that Va'del almost doubted the memory of what he'd seen a heartbeat before.

  "Wait, don't kill me, I can help you."

  Time had resumed its normal flow, and a host of other sounds suddenly competed for Va'del's attention.