Brea nodded. “And if anything gets in my way…” she said quietly, hefting the staff she was carrying. “I’ll demonstrate what four feet of solid oak topped with something sharp can do.”
“Indeed,” the Eldest replied. Even as they spoke, they crested the top of the pass, and could finally see the battle for themselves.
Brea stared down into horror. Her projected image faded as the reality came before her eyes. The Swarm had overrun the Battlemagi lines. Only twirling blazes of lightning and flame marked the locations of the surviving Battlemagi. “Gods. What do we do?” she asked softly.
“From what you said earlier, find the Battlemagi and support them,” her father replied. “As for us,” Brea turned in her saddle to see him shrug. “We’ll do what we came for.”
She saw her father twist in the saddle to face his command group. “Bannerman, raise my banner high,” he commanded. “Let it be seen, by us and by them. Trumpeter, sound the charge.”
He turned back to her, and she met his gaze with a smile. “Good luck, father,” she told him.
“And to you, daughter,” he replied. “And to you.”
With that, the brassy notes of the charge began to ring out, and Kelt’ahrn, High King of the Kingdom of Vishni and Brea’ahrn’s father, put his heels to his horse and led his army down the pass.
As the thunder of horses hammered through the midday heat, Brea turned to the Eldest. The older Mage looked at her for a moment. “Find Tal, Brea,” she said finally. “Find him… and save him.”
As soon as the trumpets began to ring out the call to charge, Shel nodded to his regiment’s trumpeters to carry on the clarion call. The brassy notes sounded, and he put his heels to his horse, urging the creature to go faster. Moments later, his command group joined him. Then his first company. Then the second company, then the entire first battalion, and then the rest of the regiment. A thousand men in his regiment alone, and nine other regiments had ridden with the King and Princess.
The charge thundered down the hill, the distance between the Kingsmen and the Swarm shrinking with the seconds.
“Lower lances!” Shel bellowed, matching his actions to his words and dropping his own lance to ready position. Sunlight glittered off the steel tips as the men under his command followed.
The distance continued to shrink, and Shel couched his lance under his arm. Fifty meters. Forty. Thirty. Twenty. Ten. He braced his feet against the stirrups and the lance against his body. Then the charge struck home.
He felt his lance stab into the flesh of the Swarmbeast he’d hit, heard the shrieks of the rest of the Swarm as the ten thousand strong charge smashed into them. He yanked the lance free, knocking a Swarmbeast aside with the butt as he twisted it into an overarm position and stabbed down at a third.
“Ahrn! Ahrn! Ahrn!” He heard the cry – the battle cry of the Kingsmen – rise around him, and joined his own voice to it, even as he struck down another Swarmbeast. “Ahrn!”
There were Swarmbeasts everywhere. His lance flickered down again and again, killing them by the dozen. His men were doing the same, but the Swarm kept coming. Here and there an armored Kingsman knight went down.
He got a sudden glimpse of a larger creature, and his lance lashed out to pierce the throat of the Beastman charging him. For a moment, he had a breather and looked up. The flashes of light where the Battlemagi still held out were still too far ahead. He glanced behind him, where the Life Magi attached to his regiment waited, smashing down the Swarmbeasts that came near them with their staffs.
They weren’t helping the Battlemagi here, he realized. The cost of what they had to do next horrified him… but he didn’t have a choice, did he? “By companies, advance!” he bellowed.
He nodded to his command group, and the two Life Magi who had joined them, then started his charger moving forwards, his lance stabbing out to slaughter yet another Swarmbeast. The advance began slowly, but as the lancers began to cut through the Swarm, they began to move faster and faster.
“Ahrn! Ahrn!” Shel cried, his lance smashing through a Beastman as he led his regiment into the heart of the enemy. The Fifth had somehow become the spearhead of the Kingsmen’s advance, and Shel led his regiment forward with a will.
Then they broke free of the Swarm into a small open gap. They barely had time to wonder why the gap was there before a force of Beastmen, about two thousand strong, charged the regiment. Fire flickered out from the Chaos Magi in the Beastmen ranks, and one of the Life Magi behind him screamed – a scream cut off horribly short.
He couldn’t look behind him to see what had happened. He readied his lance and shouted “Forward the Fifth!” With that, he charged, leading his men forward. The Beastmen didn’t slow, merely raising their spears to meet his men’s lowered lances.
“Ahrn!” The battlecry rang out as the two forces, miniscule against the overall conflict, slammed together. Shel felt his lance break apart as it drove through a Beastman’s armor and pinned the creature to the ground. He dropped the broken weapon and drew his sword, riding down another Beastman as he did.
Yet another Beastman stabbed at him with a spear. He knocked it aside with his sword, then ducked in the saddle to avoid a second spear. A third spear lunged at him and he cut off the spearhead and drove his sword down into the Beastman wielding it.
He yanked the blade free, hissing in pain as another spear smashed into his shield arm, skittering off the steel bracer he wore but still bruising his arm. He twisted in the saddle to stab down at the Beastman who’d attacked him, the blade skittering under the near-man’s helmet as the spear came swinging back around.
A whistling sound warned him, and he turned to bring his shield between him and a descending flight of black-feathered arrows. The arrows struck down the Beastmen around him, allowing him to assess the situation for a moment. His men’s armor had stood them in good stead, and most of them were still alive, and more importantly, still with him. Even as he turned to assess the area, the Beastmen force, shattered first by the Kingsmen’s counter-charge and then by their own arrow fire, broke and fled.
The regiment followed in pursuit, swords already darkened with inhuman blood hacking at the misshapen creatures. Shel followed, riding in the middle of his regiment. He saw the fire lash out from the Warrior Mage who’d led the Beastmen, claiming dozens of his men.
He turned his horse towards the Mage, raising his sword. The Mage continued to flail the regiment with fire and didn’t notice the single horseman charging towards him until it was too late. The Warrior yanked his own sword free with his right hand, his left sending fire hammering at Shel.
Shel somehow managed to pull his left foot free of the stirrup, half-falling to the right to evade the flame and swing his sword at the Mage. The Mage managed to parry, and thrust at Shel, to find that the Kingsman had pulled himself back up onto the horse.
He watched the Mage’s thrust drift through where he’d been hanging, then stabbed down as the Warrior’s momentum carried him into reach of his longsword. The sword stabbed into the Mage’s throat, spilling his blood onto soil already tinged red with human and inhuman blood.
Shel pulled his sword back up and stood in his stirrups to survey the field. His regiment was off in the distance, caught up in a swirling melee with at least four times their number of Beastmen and Swarmbeasts. He began to ride towards them, his sword lashing out to bisect a Swarmbeast, when a bright flash of light caught his eye.
He turned in the saddle towards it, and saw it again, fire flickering around a single figure. The figure stood alone, and dozens of Swarmbeasts and Beastmen burned in the flame. The Battlemage was fighting a group of several Chaos Magi, and holding his own.
Then Shel saw the other Warrior Mage, the one sneaking up behind the Mage. He turned his horse and puts his heels to its flanks, charging across the battlefield, yelling a warning. A Swarmbeast got in his way, and he rode the monster down without even slowing.
The Warrior twisted at the sound of his shout
and sent a chaos lance flashing out. The burst of magic slammed into Shel’s horse’s chest, killing the charger instantly. Shel somehow managed to stay upright as the horse fell, slamming its five hundred-kilo bulk into the Mage.
Shel landed on his feet heavily, but managed to bring his sword swinging around to cut the Warrior in half. Then he felt a searing pain as the second Chaos Mage sent lightning flickering into his armor.
He screamed, and turned. The bulky armor slowed him down and conducted the lightning across his entire body. He could feel his limbs start to stop working, but he managed to lunge across the distance between him and the Mage, driving his longsword into the Mage’s chest with a two-handed thrust.
More lightning flickered out from the Mage as he died. Shel’s legs failed under him, and he felt himself fall backwards towards the ground.
Tal heard the warning cry and turned in time to see the Kingsman fell the first Mage. He was jerked back to his original opponents by a blast of flame against his shields. He turned back towards them, flashing lances of darkness cutting two of them down.
The third panicked and Shifted, trying to fly away. The crow got maybe ten feet before Tal burned it out of the sky, and turned back to the man who’d warned him.
He saw the man, lightning flickering over his chainmail armor, slam his sword into the Chaos Mage’s chest. The Mage slipped backwards off the sword, but lightning continued to flicker across the Kingsman’s armor, and the Kingsman slowly fell backwards.
Tal rushed to the side of the man who’d quite possibly just saved his life. He knelt by the man and slowly removed his helmet. He inhaled sharply as he recognized Shel’nart.
The dying man’s eyes widened as he recognized Tal. “My lord,” he coughed out.
“Shel’nart,” Tal said softly, searching around him for a Life Mage. “Don’t talk, I’ll try to get someone.”
Shel shook his head, then coughed again, spattering blood across his armor and Tal’s robes. “Too late, my lord,” he managed to say before a spasm of coughing interrupted his speech. “I’m finished.”
“Dammit, you didn’t have to do that,” Tal said softly, but with no less heat.
“Yes,” Shel coughed, “I did.” Another spasm of coughing stopped him for a moment, and when he continued his voice was weaker. “I had to prove,” he coughed again, spraying blood again, “that I am not,” more coughing wracked the Kingsman’s body, “my father.” He seemed to relax, but his voice grew weaker with every word. “Am I redeemed?” he asked, his voice fading even as he spoke.
Tal nodded without hesitation. “You had nothing to redeem yourself for, not anymore,” he replied.
“Tell my wife I,” a horrific spasm of coughing cut off what Shel was saying, but he managed to force out “love her…”
Tal lowered the dead man’s head to the ground. He reached over and ran his hand down Shel’s face, closing the staring eyes. As his hand ran over the magically-bound scars that marked the knight’s face, they faded, leaving unmarked skin.
“I will,” he said softly. “I promise.”
Tal stood up from the ground where Shel lay and surveyed the battlefield. The Swarm had disintegrated into complete chaos, Swarmbeasts and Beastmen going every which way. Even as he watched, however, he could see an order beginning to form as the Chaos Magi took their creatures in hand.
“Fall back!” he shouted, using magic to be certain all the Kingsmen and Magi heard him. “Fall back and reform!” As he shouted, he unleashed his magic. Fire blazed from his fingertips, an interlocking web of flame that destroyed only Swarmbeasts and Beastmen.
After a few moments, the fire blanked out of existence as Tal found himself gasping for breath, exhausted. The sort of power necessary to destroy selectively drained even him. A moment later, he sent the web flashing out once more, spending his power without thought. There were Life Magi who could refresh him here now.
More Battlemagi added to the flashing flame, spending their power as profligately as Tal spent his own. They slowly formed into a line as their fire drove the Swarm back. The Swarmbeasts recoiled, either retreating or dying.
“Get ready,” he ordered the new line of Battlemagi, watching as the Kingsmen rode towards the line.
Brea followed the Kingsmen’s charge into the Swarm, constantly looking for Tal as she held her staff ready. Within moments, a Swarmbeast came leaping out of the writhing mass of monsters at her. Almost without thinking, she thrust her staff out to meet it in the air and crack the creature’s skull.
The next Swarmbeast to lunge at her was intercepted by a Kingsman, who casually chopped it in half with his saber. As she looked around, she realized that a group of them were taking up positions around her.
The captain commanding them rode up to her and saluted. “My Lady Brea’ahrn,” he greeted her, “it is good to see you again.”
She glared at Mar’tell. “I don’t recall asking for an escort,” she told him.
“No, you didn’t,” the Kingsman said cheerfully. “However, I figured that we may as well take up the duty once more. It wouldn’t do for the Black Lord’s Lady to be injured before she reached him.”
Brea glared at him for a moment more, then sighed. “Very well then,” she agreed. She looked away from the captain to realize that while they had been arguing, his men had been competently and mercilessly slaughtering a group of Swarmbeasts that had surged towards her.
She gestured for the captain to proceed her, and they moved forward into the Swarm. Mar’tell’s men formed a flying wedge around her horse, slashing their way through the Swarmbeasts and Beastmen with equal lack of compunction.
All around her, she could hear the battle cry of the Kingsmen, a mighty shout of “Ahrn!” that seemed to shake the very earth with its fury. Some of the voices taking it up were clearly Battlemagi using magic to enhance their shouts. Nothing human could be quite that loud.
Brea twisted in her saddle, trying to find Tal. She didn’t see Tal, but she saw the great banner of the House of Ahrn. Saw it wave in the sky… and saw it fall as the man carrying it was cut down by Beastmen as a force of the near-men charged towards the banner.
“Mar’tell!” she snapped. “To the banner!”
The Kings-Captain looked where she gestured, then waved his men forward, their deadly wedge turning towards where the banner rose up again. Brea spurred her horse after the soldiers. She could see the man raising the banner now – Earl Yet’won, the senior general who’d accompanied her father. If a general held the banner… there were far too few men standing around her father.
The headlong surge of Mar’tell’s company began to slow around her, as the Kingsmen ran into stiffening resistance from a half-formed unit of Beastmen. For a moment, their motion towards the banner stopped, as the knights’ sabers flashed down, hacking the Beastmen away from her and out of their path.
Brea added what she could to the fight, lending strength to both horses and men, and smashing down those Beastmen that came within reach of her staff. The skirmish lasted only moments, but when she looked up, Yet’won was falling, a black sword through his chest.
The banner fell as her escort charged towards it, but was swept up again by another man. A moment later, she realized it was her father. She could see perhaps six soldiers, battling to defend her father – their king.
She said nothing, grimly focusing on doing her part of keeping her little escort going. Even as they drew nearer, she saw the soldiers with her father die one by one, to sword and ax and arrow, until her father stood alone.
She saw him hold the banner high as he lashed out with sword, driving the Beastmen back, and gave in. “Faster, Mar’tell,” she snapped. “Faster!”
Brea saw the captain glance at her, but he said nothing, merely turning back to his men as they drove forward as fast as they could. Their hacking steel had become little more than a blur of bright and dull flashes to Brea, her eyes focused on the solitary figure of her father.
She saw him cut down Bea
stman after Beastman as they swarmed him. He couldn’t kill them fast enough, and she saw blades go home, driving through his armor. Her heart was in her throat as she saw her father stumble.
More blades stabbed through, driving the High King to his knees. Brea watched in horror as the Beastmen surged in… and the banner of Ahrn fell. She twisted to snap at Mar’tell, but he’d clearly seen it already, as he was raising himself in his saddle.
“To the King!” he bellowed. “Ahrn!”
His men took up the cry as they put their spurs to their horses’ flanks and charged forward. “Ahrn! Ahrn! Ahrn!”
Brea followed, watching as the Kingsmen rode the Beastmen down. Their sabers, dulled with the blood of the dozens they had killed, slashed down the Beastmen who had dared assault their king. They slaughtered their way to the fallen banner and the fallen King.
She swung down from her horse, kneeling by her father’s side. “Father,” she said softly. The brutally still body of her father made no reply. Kelt’ahrn, High King of Vishni, was dead.
With trembling hands she picked up his sword from where it had and laid it in his hands. Then she took the crown from his head, lifting it in her hands, gazing at it in fear.
“The King is dead,” she heard Mar’tell say softly behind her. She looked up to find that the Kingsmen had formed a circle around her. The Kings-Captain stepped up to her and took the crown from her hands where she knelt.
Louder, he repeated. “The King is dead!” Brea found him meeting her eyes, and he inclined his head to her… and placed the crown upon her head. “Long live the Queen!”
Brea watched Mar’tell sink to one knee as his men echoed the cry, “Long live the Queen!”
“No…” she said softly.
“There is no other, milady,” Mar’tell told her. “You are our Queen.”
Children of Prophecy Page 29
