I was so close! Wyjec gathered that the soldiers attacking Avadi’s men were the same who had laid siege to Iredell. Not that it mattered—Wyjec would redirect his revenge on the man who had denied him his vengeance.
He expected the soldier to run for the trees or set himself to fight off the wolves, but he did neither. Instead, the man sheathed his sword and raised one hand in front of him, palm faced outward.
The wolves continued to charge, yet the soldier did not move to run away. What is he doing? Then, Wyjec felt a sensation on the back of his neck, as if a warm breeze blew only on that spot. The sensation was familiar, though Wyjec could not say why.
Using his influence through the red myelur, Wyjec directed the wolves to attack the man’s legs. They were not to kill him; Wyjec wanted that privilege himself. For a moment, he thought about using the red myelur to kill the man before the wolves arrived, but that would be too quick. He wanted the wolves to attack.
Within ten paces of the soldier, the wolves did something odd. They stopped—not in a way of their choosing. They acted as if they had run into a solid object, yet nothing was there. The wolves got up and continued to ram themselves into the invisible barrier, still driven by Wyjec’s command to attack the man’s legs. He sent out the impression for the wolves to stop and return to his side. Most responded, though nearly half of his family lay on the ground, unmoving. A quick inspection with the red myelur showed Wyjec that none of the fallen wolves were still breathing.
This isn’t possible! How did he do that? Wyjec then realized that it would not be possible for a normal man, but he, himself, could do things others could not. The soldier can wield the blue myelur!
This understanding hit Wyjec in a few ways. First, his wolves could not harm the soldier. Second, the man could shield not only himself but an area around him—something Wyjec himself did not know how to do. Lastly, and most disturbingly, if others could wield the myelur in such a manner, Wyjec was not as special as Avadi led him to believe.
The soldier now ran off into the trees, but not before picking up something off the ground. Wyjec made no movement to stop him. Maybe he can enforce his will on me as I can to others—perhaps even better than I can. But if that was so, why did the man use a sword to kill Avadi? Too many unknowns!
The wolves returned now—each of them was injured to some degree, yet they all indicated full devotion to Wyjec. They would fight for him until they died.
What do I do now? Avadi was dead. There were others, or at least one, who could wield the blue myelur better than he could himself. For a moment, Wyjec considered gathering the rest of his family and heading back to the mountains. But no . . .
Those who killed Avadi needed to pay. The wolves had been able to attack the men in front of the cabin—at least he thought they had. He had watched just long enough to see the battle joined before he ran into the cabin. Straining his ears, he listened for any indications that the men were still fighting. He heard movement, but not combat.
Summoning his wolves closer to him, he began to walk around the cabin to get a better look. He was met by five armored men, wearing the same style clothing as the soldier who had killed Avadi. They glared at him, swords in hand.
Once again, Wyjec felt a tingling on the back of his neck. The men were focused on the wolves, though one showed obvious surprise at seeing Wyjec standing among them.
“Kill the wolves. Bring the man to me,” one of the men said.
They may also have the power to wield the myelur. I can’t beat them! They’re too powerful. They’ll kill me! Wyjec considered his options, which were few. Only one solution came to mind which would allow him to survive—at a steep cost. Trying not to think of anything more than staying alive, Wyjec whistled and growled the command for his remaining wolves to attack. They did. Wyjec did not. Instead, he turned and ran away.
Chapter 70
Rheq aimed at an enemy, using the man’s red myelur as a way to target him, and with a sense of loss, let his last arrow loose. This shot, like his previous attacks, struck his target enough to where the quick acting poison would drop his foe in a matter of heartbeats.
It would not be enough. Sothcar’s army had more men, and they kept pouring in from the surrounding trees. From the angle of the incoming arrows, the archers were at ground level.
“They must have their entire forces here,” Rheq had overheard one of his comrades say as the battle wore on. “No one expected this many!”
From what Rheq understood from the last several days while traveling with the king’s army, Sothcar had used smaller groups to attack areas in Nothcar randomly. Some were larger than others, like the force which decimated his hometown of Umstead. Yet, none of the groups were as large as what they faced tonight.
Sothcar had surprise on their side, better shelter in the forest, and more men. Surprisingly, neither side could gain an advantage over the other. Rheq realized what made the difference: Nothcar had healers, Sothcar did not. Why doesn’t Sothcar have healers? Rheq did not know, and neither did he have time to consider the reasons.
In essence, Nothcar could replenish its numbers by healing the wounded. But for how long? Both sides suffered heavy losses. Both sides were running low on arrows. Both sides were getting tired.
Out of ammunition, Rheq considered his options. Though he had been trained to use a short sword, he was better with knives in close combat. I’m better at hunting and tracking, not open fighting! With that clarity came inspiration. From the trees, the enemy continued to fire arrows into the battle. They had to pick their targets carefully, as not to hit friendly soldiers. If I can reduce the number of archers, we’ll stand a better chance.
Scanning to the east, Rheq spotted an area where no glimmers of the red myelur were present. There were a few tents between him and the spot, enough to offer coverage. Swiftly, Rheq dashed for the trees. His belt held several throwing knives, including one coated with the slow acting poison. Chaos proved to be an ally as Rheq did not attract the attention of the enemy.
Now, within the cover of the forest, Rheq used his hunting skills to move silently toward a glimmer of red to the south. Once close enough, he was able to see that the red myelur led him to an enemy archer.
Using one of his throwing knives, he snuck up behind the man and slit his throat. It was quiet and effective.
Rheq repeated the technique at least a dozen times—he lost count—thinning out the enemy’s ranged fighters. They were spread out enough, and focused on the battle, that none of them realized what Rheq achieved.
Approaching another man, this one older and larger than most Rheq had come upon, the sky began to lighten. We’ve fought through the night. Darkness proved to be an asset for Rheq’s activities, and soon that would be lost.
The pause to notice the light proved to be a mistake. Rheq brushed against a thickly leafed bush, creating enough noise to warn the enemy.
Swiveling, the archer took aim at Rheq and fired. Already in motion from the moment he made the noise, Rheq twisted his upper body while throwing his knife. The arrow missed by a hair length, but his knife found its target: the weapon pierced the meaty part of the enemy’s hand and stuck into the wooden bow which it held.
Without pausing, Rheq released another knife, this one embedding in the man’s left knee. The older fighter went to stand, but could not do so. Surprisingly, the soldier did not scream out in pain. Instead, he sat down, hard, grunting as he did.
“To be killed by a boy,” the man said. “Terrible.”
At this, Rheq did hesitate. A scan of the forest indicated no other glimmers of the red myelur were close. Even if the wounded man cried out, Rheq could escape easily enough. To this point of the battle, he had fought faceless men in the dark. This is different. It was a chance Rheq could not let pass.
“Tell me,” Rheq said, “who ordered the attacks on Umstead?”
“Umstead?” the soldier asked. “That village full of traitors? No one ordered us specifically. We were told to
attack randomly. But many of us knew areas we wanted to hit. Umstead was at the forefront.” The man barked out a rough laugh. “It was one of the first places we hit.”
“You? You were there?” Rheq said.
“Luckily, yes. It was a race to see who would get there first. It turns out several groups arrived at the same time—most of us had the same idea.”
The man was overly chatty, most likely to stall for time. Rheq knew no one was close, and the man’s hands were in clear view. No help would arrive for him.
“You did more than kill them!” Rheq said, his anger building. “You burned them!”
Lifting his chin, the man said, “And it was glorious. Payment for betraying Sothcar by petitioning to leave. Let me guess. You knew people from that little village.”
Rheq’s hand moved to his belt where he kept his knives. “More than that,” he said. “I am from Umstead.”
The man laughed again. “Not anymore! It’s not there! We destroyed it! Just as we are destroying your forces here.”
With the sky becoming lighter, Rheq could see out to the main battlefield. The fighting was ending, but it was not Sothcar’s soldiers who were standing. It was men dressed in green and silver.
“You are mistaken,” Rheq said. “We’re going to win.”
The wounded man looked at the field through the trees. He expertly masked any emotions which would betray if what appeared to be true was in fact so. Turning back to Rheq, he said, “None of this will change what happened at Umstead. Tell me, what was it like living among traitors?”
No more stalling. Rheq heard enough. “You made them suffer,” Rheq said.
“What are you going to do? Set me on fire? Go ahead. Gather firewood.”
Rheq noticed the man’s free hand tense up, an indication of impending action. “I’m not going to burn you. You deserve worse.”
“Worse? How?” The man went to reach for something Rheq could not see. Before he could, Rheq let another throwing dagger fly. It caught the man in the forearm of his free hand. Unlike the previous daggers used, this one included something extra: the slow acting poison.
The man cursed, and tried to remove the knife but could not with his other hand still pinned to the bow. “What have you done?”
“I’ve killed you,” Rheq said. “Umstead has been avenged.”
Chapter 71
Wyjec had felt pain before, but what he experienced now made the other times seem insignificant. It was not a physical pain, as when the Masters mistreated him as a chardi. Neither was it the hurt which came when Avadi betrayed him. No, this was something worse, something of Wyjec’s own doing.
He had selfishly sacrificed his wolves, his family, so that he could live.
At first, Wyjec believed it was the only way he could survive. He had run and found a place to hide among the trees. Instead of seeking safety deeper in, he had paused—his senses returning to him. From where he hid, he had watched his wolves attack. He wanted to help, but the enemy, dressed in silver and green trim and the symbol of a tree on their shields, were able to wield the power to cover themselves in a protective coating—at least for a while. The wolves were relentless and eventually wore the men down. One man with closely cropped hair fled the scene after being commanded to do so—the wolves ignored him as a non-threat.
The battle was gruesome and long. At its conclusion, each of his wolves had been killed but not before they had killed the enemy—save one. From the red myelur, Wyjec could see that one of the soldiers still lived, though his glimmer was flickering. He’s wounded.
These men had prevented Wyjec from getting his revenge on Avadi. They had denied him the right to stand over the man who deceived him and let him know the penalty for such an action.
I will still get revenge, and this time, my victim will know it was me. The sun was rising, illuminating the open field. Dead bodies littered the area, and the harsh stench which accompanied battles filled the air. Wyjec stood from behind his hiding place and approached the cabin from the forest. He remembered the woman and three children he had seen inside. They do not matter. He had almost reached the last of the surviving combatants, a man of some importance by the decorations on his uniform, when Wyjec felt the last of some of his energy drain. The protective coating he had used all night dropped away from him, like leaves falling from trees in autumn.
He tried to resummon the blue myelur, but to no avail. There were no signs of danger that Wyjec could sense. Reaching for the red myelur, Wyjec was able to grasp it. Again, he recalled how his different abilities were as if they drew liquid from different barrels. With the use of the red, he could kill the remaining survivor any number of ways. The first idea, and the one Wyjec liked immediately, was to stop the man from breathing. It would be a slow death and one of which the man would be aware.
Probing out with the red myelur, Wyjec located the section of the man’s lungs which received the amber glow from the mind to continue to pump. He did not shunt it yet; the man needed to see his face first.
Stepping over dead men and wolves, Wyjec got into a position where he could see the man’s face. It was clenched in pain. His left leg ended at the ankle, and Wyjec could see where one of his wolves had taken a bite out of the soldier’s side, just below his chainmail shirt.
“Help me.”
Wyjec took a step closer. “Help you? Why would I do that?”
Confusion added to the man’s expression. “You’re not dressed as a soldier from Sothcar. Why wouldn’t you help me?”
“Because you killed my family,” Wyjec said.
“These men?”
“No!” Wyjec barked. “The wolves were my family. You killed them!”
Shaking his head, the soldier said, “They attacked us. We were just defending ourselves.”
“It’s your fault,” Wyjec said, taking a step closer. “You shouldn’t have been here. Avadi was mine to kill.”
“I— I don’t understand.”
Wyjec knelt in front of the man’s face. “Then let me explain. You robbed me of justice. Justice has to be met.”
“Listen to me,” the man wheezed. “My name is Captain Mux, from Nothcar. If you help me, you will be rewarded.”
“What kind of reward can you offer?”
Mux propped himself onto an elbow, though it seemed to take nearly all his strength. “What is it you want?”
“I want you to know before you die that Wyjec, the true Master of Sothcar, was the one who killed you.” With that statement, Wyjec reached through the red myelur and commanded Mux’s body to stop breathing.
Terror filled the captain’s eyes as he tried to draw a breath. At last, Wyjec reaped the benefits of revenge. He leaned closer, wanting to see the light in the man’s eyes be snuffed out.
Suddenly, the captain did something Wyjec had not expected. In a motion almost swifter than the eye, Mux rammed a short sword into Wyjec’s left side, between his ribs.
Immediately, yellow threads of myelur appeared to Wyjec’s eyes. Never before had there been so many. Instinctively, Wyjec reached out with his right hand and grabbed Mux by the throat. Connecting with the yellow threads, Wyjec pulled on them with all his effort. The healing power from the effect began to reverse the damage, even to the point where the sword began to expel itself from his side.
Abruptly, the yellow threads disappeared. No! I’m not done! I need more healing! It was too late. Mux was dead and with it the power for Wyjec to heal himself.
The sword was still half inside his body. The pain came now, and it was nearly crippling. Desperately, Wyjec scanned around the field for any trace of red flickering. No use. Everything was dead. I will soon join them.
Then, from the cabin, came the sound of someone crying. The woman! The children! Fighting through the pain, Wyjec stood and walked into the cabin.
Chapter 72
The sun rose, red and angry into the sky. It illuminated a battlefield full of carnage with unspeakable indications of what men would do to each other
when given a reason.
Danla stood on trembling legs. It was more than exhaustion which caused her body to react in such a way; the horrors of severed limbs and disembowelments covered the landscape before her.
We won, or I wouldn’t be here to see this. After laying down last night to regain her strength from healing, the rest of the events were somewhat of a blur. Time and again, she would be jostled awake to heal someone and would do so. The effort of each healing drained her to the point where she would then collapse back onto the cot used for the healing of the injured.
The light of the sun had woken her moments ago. All of the healers, including Mistress Halima, were sleeping in the tent—some on cots, the others on the dirt floor. Why Danla left the tent, she could not say. She felt the urge to see the sun. What she saw instead made her wish she remained asleep.
There were soldiers wearing the king’s colors moving about the camp. They went from man to man, checking for what Danla guessed were survivors. At the end of the camp, on the road which led to Sothcar, she could see several men, including Vice-Captain Becir, huddled together.
Picking her way through the fallen, Danla moved toward them. She had regained some of her strength and perhaps one of them was in need of aid.
Upon getting close enough, she heard the vice-captain ask, “And there is no sign of Avadi among the fallen?”
A shorter man answered, “Not from what he has told us.” Danla then recognized it was Rheq speaking, the one who they had found on the road a few days previous. But who is Rheq referring to?
Danla moved closer. In doing so, she saw there was a man, bound hand and foot, on the ground in front of them. He wore the colors of Sothcar, blue and black with a crescent moon emblazoned on his tunic. Laid out on the road beyond were several men, all dead from what she could tell. Closer inspection revealed that each of the men had similar facial features.
Darker the Shadow (The Howler King Trilogy Book 1) Page 27
