Frostborn: Excalibur (Frostborn #13)

by Jonathan Moeller

  “Well,” said Calliande. “We…”

  A horn blast rang out, loud and thunderous.

  Arandar turned towards Tarrabus’s horsemen, sure that the usurper had sounded the charge. Yet the Enlightened knights were motionless, and Arandar glimpsed some of them turning in their saddles in confusion.

  The horn blast had come from further south than Tarrabus's lines.

  Calliande blinked and straightened up, her eyes going wide.

  “The south, lord Prince!” she said. “Look!”

  Arandar looked just as the first horsemen burst from the breach that Tarrabus had blasted into the siege wall.

  Knights and men-at-arms in Pendragon colors galloped onto the field, lowering their lances. In their midst charged Swordbearers with burning soulblades and orcish warriors with swords and axes and hammers.

  Corbanic Lamorus had arrived at last, aided by the Swordbearers and the orcish kings.

  Even as Arandar watched, the Pendragon knights slammed into the back of Tarrabus’s infantry. A shock of alarm rippled through the lines of footmen, alarm that only intensified when the Swordbearers and the howling orcish warriors followed the horsemen into the melee.

  In a matter of a heartbeat, the tide of the battle turned.

  Tarrabus’s footmen shivered beneath the new assault, and Arandar could almost see their morale collapse like a castra of sand washed away on the seashore. The men-at-arms and militiamen began to flee in all directions, desperate to escape from the onslaught. Some fled towards the shore, while others ran to the west, making for the coast road. Many more were trapped against Arandar’s infantry, and more died as the loyalist footmen surged forward, eager for blood against their demoralized foes.

  “The horsemen!” said Gareth, pointing in Tarrabus’s direction. “My lord Prince, we will need to call back the footmen as soon as possible. With Tarrabus’s infantry broken, we can turn them to face the Enlightened and pin them in place until the Swordbearers deal with them.”

  “There won’t be time,” said Arandar. “Tarrabus will flee. He won’t fight to the last man. Likely he will retreat to Castra Carduriel in Arduran and try to continue the war from there. We’ll have to pursue and lay siege to him. But I don’t think he’ll try to fight here …”

  Even as the words passed his lips, Arandar realized that he was wrong.

  A horn blast rang out, and the Enlightened knights charged, dust rising from their hooves.

  They were coming to kill Arandar and the Keeper.

  “Defend yourselves!” said Arandar, raising Heartwarden as Calliande and the Magistri all began casting spells.

  ###

  In a single moment, victory slipped from Tarrabus’s grasp.

  His infantry shivered and then shattered between Arandar’s footmen and the Swordbearers, orcish warriors, and Pendragon knights. All his nobles began shouting at once, some of them bellowing suggestions, others accusing each other of bringing disaster upon their heads.

  Tarrabus ignored them, trying to think of a plan.

  Could he rally the footmen? No, their lines had been shattered, and they had gone from an army to a hundred mobs of desperate, beaten men, fleeing in all directions to escape from certain death. The only troops still under Tarrabus’s command were his knights and horsemen. If he tried to attack Arandar’s infantry, he might break them, but then he would run into the Swordbearers and the orcish warriors. Worse, by then Prince Cadwall would have reformed his knights, and Tarrabus would find himself encircled by hostile forces.

  “We have to withdraw, my lord King!” screamed Timon. “We must withdraw at once! Let us retreat to Arduran and Castra Carduriel! We can strengthen ourselves there.”

  “For once I agree with the fat fool!” said Dux Verus. “We need to withdraw. If we stay here, we are finished.”

  Tarrabus’s mouth twisted with disgust. If he fled the field now, he might retain control of the duxarchates of Arduran and Tarras, but not for long. Without Tarlion, he could not properly claim to be the High King, for the High King of Andomhaim ruled from Tarlion. He would be a petty warlord holding a shard of the realm, and in time Arandar would gather the strength to destroy him unless the Frostborn destroyed them all first.

  Nevertheless, he saw no other option before him.

  Then he saw the path to victory.

  Arandar’s infantry had surged forward, crushing the footmen of Tarrabus between their swords and the Swordbearers and the orcs. Prince Cadwall was still attempting to reform his horsemen, gathering them together for a charge, but they were not yet ready to fight.

  But Arandar Pendragon’s banner was directly in front of Tarrabus, and the bastard Prince seemed to have only a few Swordbearers and Magistri and knights around him.

  Tarrabus could charge directly at him and kill Arandar, and if he did, the victory would still be his. Arandar had a son and daughter in Nightmane Forest, but children could not command a realm, and the Frostborn might kill them in any event. If Tarrabus killed Arandar, he would win by default. It would take longer than he might have wished, but Andomhaim would still be his.

  “Charge!” he bellowed, pointing his shadow-wreathed sword at Arandar’s banner.

  “What?” said Timon, shocked.

  “Charge!” said Tarrabus. “The bastard Prince is undefended. If we take his head, the day is ours. Charge, damn you!”

  He ripped a horn from a nearby knight, blew the signal for the charge, and threw the horn aside. His horse surged forward, and the knights of the Enlightened charged, dragging along his reluctant nobles with him.

  Reluctant or not, they would heed his will, and he would cut down Arandar and anyone with him.

  Chapter 21: Enlightenment

  Ridmark ran as fast as he could, Excalibur trailing fire in his right hand, Kharlacht, Caius, Third, Antenora, and Camorak keeping pace behind him.

  The sounds of the battle had grown louder.

  There had been no sign of Calliande and Arandar and Gavin at the hill where the Keeper had been preparing the great spell. For that matter, there had been no sign of the footmen, though the trampled ground of their passage was easy enough to spot. Ridmark and his companions followed the line of the siege wall, heading towards the sounds of the battle. He was not sure what had happened while he had been breaking Imaria’s spell circle, but it sounded as if the long-awaited battle to decide the siege was well underway.

  At last he went around the corner of the siege wall and saw the armies of Andomhaim at war with each other.

  There was too much chaos for him to make out what was happening, though he could guess. Arandar’s footmen had gone to fight Tarrabus’s men as they stormed out of the breach, and the two armies fought for victory. It seemed a dangerous position for Tarrabus since he would be vulnerable to the Swordbearers and the orcs if they cut their way through the camp, but anything could happen in the chaos of battle.

  “There is the Prince’s banner,” said Third.

  “The Keeper will be with him,” said Antenora.

  Ridmark spotted the banner of the Prince Regent flying from the lance of a knight. Arandar was with a small group of Magistri and Swordbearers and knights. South of the Pendragon banner the armies struggled, and it looked as if Arandar’s infantry was winning against Tarrabus’s footmen. But Tarrabus’s horsemen had gotten ahead of the struggling lines of infantry, and as Ridmark looked, the blast of horns rang out.

  Tarrabus’s horsemen headed towards the Prince’s banner, slowly at first, but with greater speed.

  “He’s going to kill the Prince,” said Caius, “and if he does, he’s won the battle…”

  “Go!” said Ridmark.

  ###

  Gavin braced himself, Truthseeker burning in his right hand, his dwarven shield ready on his left arm.

  The enemy knights thundered towards them, shadows dancing around their swords and spears. White light flared as Calliande and the Magistri began hurling shafts of fire towards the Enlightened, causing some of the ho
rsemen to reel and scream in pain. One even lost his saddle, falling to be trampled beneath the hooves of his fellows. Calliande cast another spell and the ground folded and heaved, knocking a dozen horses and their riders to the ground.

  But more came.

  Hundreds and hundreds more of them. One of Dux Gareth’s knights sounded his war horn again and again, summoning men to the aid of the Prince, but Gavin doubted they would arrive in time.

  It would be up to Gavin and the Keeper and the other Swordbearers to save themselves.

  An Enlightened knight thundered towards Gavin, shadows pouring from the head of his lance, and Gavin stepped into the attack, his shield raised. The lance head slammed into his shield. The blow would have driven another man to the ground, or at the very least broken his arm, but a surge of power from Truthseeker gave him strength. The lance shattered against the shield of dwarven steel, and Gavin stabbed with his soulblade. The blade crunched into the knight’s stomach, pulsing with white fire as it reacted to the shadow of Incariel, and the knight screamed and slumped his saddle, his horse galloping off in a random direction.

  Calliande cast another spell, throwing out her arms and shouting, and a broad section of ground rippled and snapped. Dozens of horses lost their footing, their riders falling from their saddles, and Tarrabus’s charge came to a halt. Yet an Enlightened knight shouted commands and the horses moved forward, pushing towards Arandar’s banner.

  Gavin charged forward, Sir Constantine and the other Swordbearers around him.

  ###

  Arandar rode into the melee, slashing right and left with his soulblade. A score of deep scratches marked his shield, and he wondered how much battering it could take before it shattered. A man-at-arms in the colors of Dux Verus Macrinus thrust a spear at him, and Arandar snapped his shield up, the spearhead skidding off the thick oak. Arandar struck back with Heartwarden, his sword ripping through his enemy’s arm. The man’s arm fell off in a spray of blood and disappeared into the churning hooves beneath them, and the man-at-arms screamed, lost his balance, and fell from his horse.

  Likely the stamping hooves killed him at once.

  Arandar fought for his life. Soon his arm ran red with blood, and his shield was hacked to kindling. Once again, his horse was killed under him, and he fought on foot with Sir Constantine and Sir Gavin. The Magistri hurled blasts of white fire, spells that could not harm normal mortals but burned those who had been tainted with dark magic. The Keeper focused on disrupting the horsemen, and the earth rippled and folded.

  They only had to hold until help arrived. Help was already coming as Prince Cadwall flung the knights and mounted men-at-arms under his command into the fray. Sooner or later another one of the forces under Arandar’s command would arrive, or the Swordbearers would cut their way to his side

  He just had to hold on until help arrived.

  Then a dome of shadows exploded from the midst of the horsemen, rushing towards them.

  ###

  Calliande had seen this kind of attack before.

  Red Prince Kurdulkar had used it during the final battle in Bastoth, and the Weaver had carried a corrupted soulstone that had allowed him to do the same thing. The dome of shadows would cover a large area, paralyzing those trapped within it and allowing the servants of Incariel free movement while they cut down their frozen foes.

  But Calliande had seen this attack before, and she knew how to counter it.

  She cast a warding spell, pouring all the power of the Well and the mantle of the Keeper into it. The end of her staff shone with a dazzling flare of white fire, and a dome of white light erupted from her and spread in all directions. The light pushed against the shadows, and Calliande gritted her teeth, straining as she held the spell in place. It was easier than it had been against the Weaver’s corrupted soulstone, and she still had power and concentration left for other spells.

  She called the Sight to her, sweeping it across the battlefield, the soulblades shining like stars to her arcane senses, while the shadow of Incariel seemed like rotten corruption or poisoned blood dripping from a putrefied wound. If she could find the source of the dome of shadows, perhaps she could break its power. It had to be one of the more powerful of the Enlightened.

  Her Sight fixed upon the source.

  It was Tarrabus Carhaine.

  The usurper and the leader of the Enlightened thundered through the battle, killing anyone in his path. The shadows poured from him, and a sword wreathed in darkness rested in his right hand, killing with every stroke of his arm. Calliande called the fire of the Well and struck, hurling a shaft of white fire towards Tarrabus. It struck him, but the shadows leached away the strength of her attack.

  Tarrabus spun his mount, and Calliande felt the iron weight of his gaze fall upon her. He intended to kill her, she knew.

  That was just as well, because she did not intend to let him escape this battle, not after all the evil he had done.

  Yet so long as she had to hold the ward against that damnable dome of shadows, she could not bring her full power to bear against him. Tarrabus was hacking his way towards Arandar. The Prince Regent would be protected from the shadows by his soulblade, but that would take a significant part of Heartwarden’s power. Would he have enough strength left to stand against the false king?

  Calliande urged her horse forward, calling as much power as she could. If she could include Arandar in the perimeter of her warding spell, Tarrabus would have to enter it to kill him Perhaps that would break the dome of shadows, but at the very least it would let Arandar fight Tarrabus and the other Enlightened with the full power of Heartwarden behind him.

  A flash of light caught her eye.

  A whirling sphere of fire soared across the battlefield, landed in the midst of Tarrabus’s horsemen, and exploded with enough force to hurl a dozen horses and their riders into the air.

  ###

  Ridmark hurried towards the melee, looking for Calliande.

  She wasn’t hard to find. She sat atop her horse, her staff raised, a shimmering dome of white light extending dozens of yards from her in all directions. The defenders had rallied around her, the Swordbearers and the household knights battling against the Enlightened, while the Magistri flung blasts of white fire at their attackers and healed wounds. Ridmark spotted Prince Arandar in their midst, flanked by Constantine Licinius and Gavin, and he saw Dux Gareth and his father among the fighters as well.

  Shadows covered the knights and horsemen of Tarrabus Carhaine. Most of them were Enlightened, shadows curling around their weapons, but a hazy dome of shadows surrounded them, similar to the ones that Kurdulkar and the Weaver had used. Calliande’s ward was protecting the defenders, but the veil of shadow was forcing it back step by step. For that matter, nearly three times as many of Tarrabus’s men struggled against Arandar and Calliande and the others, and more were coming.

  “The Keeper is in danger!” said Antenora, already spinning up another fireball at the end of her staff.

  “Aye,” said Ridmark, his fingers closing tight about Ardrhythain’s staff and Excalibur’s hilt. “Kharlacht, Caius, Third, Antenora, Camorak. Defend the Keeper.”

  “Where are you going?” said Caius, lifting his dark elven warhammer.

  “I’m going to kill Tarrabus,” said Ridmark, raising the staff of Ardrhythain. “This is proof against the shadows. It blocked Tymandain Shadowbearer and Kurdulkar when they used that same power, and if it blocked them, it will block Tarrabus. Stay within the light of the Keeper’s ward. The shadows won’t touch you if you stay within the light.”

  “I shall accompany you,” said Third.

  Ridmark frowned. “You won’t be able to transport through the shadows.”

  Third shrugged. “They will block my ability to travel, but shall not hinder me otherwise.”

  “Very well,” said Ridmark. He would not be able to change her mind, and he needed her help. “Then go!”

  “God be with us, my friends!” said Caius. Antenora was alrea
dy sprinting towards Gavin and Calliande, Kharlacht, Caius, and Camorak following her. Third stepped to Ridmark’s side, and to his surprise, she smiled.

  “What?” said Ridmark as he started running towards the shadows.

  “I spent centuries killing at my father’s cruel whims!” said Third. “How good it is to fight for a worthy cause!”

  Then they raced into the dome of shadows, and there was no more time to talk.

  It was almost like stepping into an eclipse. The sunlight dimmed around Ridmark, and the shadowy haze washed over him. The symbols upon the black length of Ardrhythain’s staff shone brighter, and the haze flowed around Ridmark, leaving him untouched. The shadows coiled around Third, seeming to make her blur, but she moved without hindrance, and the blue steel of her dark elven swords seemed sharp and clear.

  Excalibur burned hotter, the sword’s white fire raging against the darkness around it.

  A knight in Carhaine colors spurred towards Ridmark, raising his axe to strike. Ridmark dodged, avoiding the fall of the axe, and swept Excalibur up in a blaze of white fire. The sword sheared off the axe’s head, and the knight wobbled with the sudden loss of weight. Ridmark struck again, and Excalibur sliced into the knight’s chest without slowing, cutting through steel and flesh and muscle and bone as if they were all made of soft cheese.

  The dead knight fell from the saddle, and Ridmark and Third charged into the fray.

  ###

  Tarrabus urged his mount forward.

  Another explosion sounded behind him, and a half-dozen of his men tumbled through the air, screaming as fire consumed their limbs. That would be the work of the Keeper’s damnable apprentice, whose fire magic had been a constant annoyance during the campaign in Caerdracon. Tarrabus badly wanted Arandar and Calliande dead, but killing the Keeper’s vexing apprentice would be just as welcome.

  The deaths of all three were nearly at hand.