They were all looking to her, even the Northmen which was a surprise. She knew what her heart was telling her, that they should fight. Her head was saying that Roland’s assessment was the correct one. She was about to order the retreat when the words of Gelarus came to mind. He said that she should not stop fighting no matter the odds. He would not have told her unless it was very important. Gelarus never offered any advice. The odds were definitely against them, and she was tempted not to fight. Did he give her a warning? Did he know what might happen? What would happen if she ordered a retreat? Coran would be trapped behind the enemy line whether he won his battle or not. Would he then be killed? Was that what Gelarus was trying to tell her? Coran had to stop Elthzidor, he said so. Thalamus said that the Champion would come when the time was right. Could Coran be the Champion? If everyone was to be believed then Coran had to survive. She put her trust in the wizard who never seemed able to trust anyone. Well, not just him. She was putting her trust in the man she loved.
“Bring me a horse,” she ordered while ignoring the searching looks from the others. A moment later one of the Knights handed her the reins to Arya, for which she was grateful. The animal was well trained and had not wondered far. “My banner?” Martin frowned slightly. He must have guessed her intentions once again.
A man came forward on foot carrying her banner. He wore the blue and gold. Wordlessly another horse was brought for him. He mounted as did she.
“Your orders?” Roland asked. They were all watching her intently. She returned the favor by staring at each face in turn.
“Your Majesty?” Martin asked.
“Tell your men,” Katelyn told them in a commanding voice. “We fight. There will be no retreat this day.”
“I told you Coran had good taste,” Bail laughed.
On seeing her determined features Roland spoke carefully, ignoring the Northman’s jest. “By that do you mean to fight to the last man?”
Katelyn looked him squarely in the eyes. As soon as she had made her decision she knew it was right. “I do. We make our stand here.”
Roland nodded and rode away to carry her orders to the rest of the army. Bail was smiling as he went back to his men. Jarl said nothing and Edric watched her thoughtfully for a moment. Finally, the King of Leanness inclined his head to her slightly before riding away. That was something. He had no loyalty to Summerhall. King Aemon saluted her with a fist to his chest before leaving. Even more of a surprise.
Someone else approached her after the others had left. Thalamus. He looked tired from his efforts this day. “Your Majesty,” he said looking after the departing leaders. “You have made some decision concerning the newest threat?”
“I have.”
When she did not offer more information he spoke again. “And that is?”
She fixed the wizard with a look of determination, no less than the look she had given the others. “We will make our stand here. There will be no retreat.”
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I see.” He was silent for a moment. “We will, of course, stand with you.”
“That will be appreciated,” she said a bit coldly. Watching the wizard depart she had to wonder at her rudeness towards him, towards them all. Then she realized that it was not rudeness she spoke with exactly, but command. Commanding a wizard?
Martin was watching her out of the corner of his eye. He was obviously worried over her decision, but would never come out and disagree with her openly.
“Commander,” she finally said.
“Your Majesty?” he responded.
“Gather the Knights of Soros who can still ride or hold a sword and bring them all here. We will fight together.”
He saluted her as Aemon had. “At once, My Queen.”
“Like my surprise?” Elthzidor had recovered from his shock and was now gloating over the latest development. “I kept back the last of the troops to leave Sha’Tor, and pulled out a few thousand here and there from the main force to join them.”
Coran could see the numbers and knew that the Midians and Northmen combined could still win, if they had not already fought a battle today. As things were it would be a close fight.
“You have no idea of the numbers of men available to me,” Elthzidor continued. “The lands in the East are more vast than you can imagine. Even if this army is defeated can the West defeat another, and another after that, each larger than the one before?”
Could it be as hopeless as he was saying it was? No, that was what he wanted from him, for him to lose hope. “Liar!” Coran yelled at the wizard, refusing to believe. “The West has won before and it will again.”
“Do I lie? Those other times mistakes were made, miscalculations, underestimations, but not this time. The full might of Makkura and all of the East is being mobilized. There is nothing that can stop my Master this time.”
The words rang true in Coran’s mind, but he sensed a trickle of doubt. Could Elthzidor not be as sure as he sounded? “There is still me,” he said defiantly.
The smugness left Elthzidor’s face and was replaced with anger. “Then I will deal with you first.” The last word was punctuated with an overhand swing of the dark sword directed at Coran’s head. Coran blocked and countered. The last, and most important battle of the day began.
Their swords became the instruments of their power. Whenever the two blades met sparks flew and the air crackled with energy. Elthzidor’s power had been offset by Coran’s sudden ability, and Coran’s skill with the sword was offset by the revelation of Elthzidor’s ability. Tenobius had told him that he, like many other wizards, relied on their power for protection, finding that they needed nothing else. Elthzidor had been prepared, that was obvious by his skill with a blade, but how far had those preparations gone? Coran had been in a fist fight or two before and he remembered Soelidin’s ability to strike with fist or foot while in a duel with swords. It had been somewhat of a surprise and distracting. If he could do the same to Elthzidor it might just give him the edge he needed to end this.
Coran watched as the black blade spun over Elthzidor’s head, then struck downward. Coran sidestepped, the blow missing, then he blocked the return swing with Ice. Pushing down and to the side on both blades he managed to move beside the wizard. He swung an elbow that clipped Elthzidor’s temple, then kicked at the back of his leg. Elthzidor went to one knee as Coran followed through, letting his momentum spin him around and the sword as well. He spun Ice in an arc, reversed his grip on the handle, and with their backs to each other, he thrust behind him. Once again there was almost no resistance as Ice slid into the wizard’s back. Coran pulled the blade back out and turned around to watch the wizard cautiously.
Elthzidor was on both knees, staring blankly ahead. Coran carefully walked around the wizard to face his front. Then something odd happened. Elthzidor started to flow, to move as the wind started to carry him away.
Coran was not sure how he knew it, but Elthzidor was trying to get away. Instinctively he halted that flowing air, denying the wizard his escape. Was it from him or the sword where the instinct came from?
Elthzidor raised his head to stare into Coran’s face. Blood was on his lips and chin.
“You have lost,” Coran told him.
“Have I?” Elthzidor said in a rasping voice. “I am one of many. You are only one.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
A ragged laugh escaped the Maji’s throat until it was caught off by another fountain of blood. His eyes rolled in his head until he was able to focus them on Coran. When he spoke it was barely a whisper. “I am not the Destroyer’s Champion.” Then he gathered what power remained to him and directed it downward at the tower itself.
Coran had been ready for an attack at himself, but not at the tower. Surprised by the move he could not stop it. The tower shook as the base exploded sending chunks of stone in all directions. Stones also flew outward from the second and third levels. Even the battlements at the top shook and cracked. The tower s
tarted to break apart, to crumble all around him.
Elthzidor forced one last smile onto his bloody lips before falling face first onto the tower. As he did the stones beneath him cracked and fell, the body of the wizard and the black sword fell with them into the tower’s dim depths.
Coran looked around the trembling tower knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop the disintegration. The power that had so suddenly filled him was gone. He tried to reacquire a link to Naturus but to no avail. He went to the southern side of the tower as the stones of the north side broke off and fell away. The shaking increased. He looked to the ground which was at least thirty feet below. That was too far to jump and survive. The trees however were not so far. There was no time to judge distances. All he could do was look for a limb big enough to support his weight. He spotted one ten feet below. That would be difficult to catch while falling. His only chance was to fall onto the branches above it and hope. Just as the tower broke apart he jumped.
Chapter 44
Fire and Ice
Katelyn dug her heels into the ribs of the black Leanesse. The horse carried her swiftly along the ridge line. First Taragosans and then Westlanders saw her coming and wisely moved out of the way. They did not cheer or say a word as she passed by. They could see the look on her face, and more importantly they had seen the tower fall and who had been on it before it fell. She reached the end of the line of soldiers just before the beginning of the trees. The tower had stood partly up the ascent before her. Dodging branches bare of their leaves she rode ever closer to where the stone watchtower had exploded and then collapsed. She could see blocks of building stones and pieces of wood used for supporting the structure scattered among the trees. Frantically, she looked for any sign of him.
Behind her she could hear others who were now entering the trees to help. As she searched golden cloaked Knights and a few Westlanders started to search among the rubble. At one point she saw something dark sticking out from under one of the heavy stones and went to investigate. It was a body, that was clear. Dismounting she leaned over the person and saw that a stone slab covered the face.
“Over here!” she shouted unable to move it herself.
Martin was the first to appear, then a Westlander. The two men heaved together and removed the slab. The dead man‘s face was pale and blood was drying around his mouth and head.
“Elthzidor,” someone said and she turned to see a man with gray hair and a beard in whitish robes. “Your Majesty. We have not yet met, but I am Tenobius.”
“The First Wizard,” she replied standing up straight. “I have heard of you.” She did not bother to remount before heading off to search some more. She did not care if the wizard was offended by her turning her back on him or not. All that mattered was finding Coran.
The army was formed up and ready to continue its advance across the valley. Those who had been retreating needed to be reorganized with the new arrivals. Now
everything was ready. Kere was confused that the Westerners had not yet retreated. They were waiting patiently on the ridge. Then he staggered as something hit him. It did not come from outside, but inside him, and he knew.
“Elthzidor is dead,” he said out loud.
“What?” Nestera asked in surprise.
“The Ra Majin is dead,” he repeated.
She looked to the south, towards where the tower had stood. There was nothing there now. “Do we still attack?”
“No,” he ordered. This had been Elthzidor’s plan. It was not his. “Attacking now would gain us little. And I do not want to lose any more Maji until I know what happened today.”
“Yes, Majin Kere,” she answered respectfully. They both knew he could be named the next Ra Majin.
Shifting his grip on the branch he let his legs fall to dangle a few feet from the ground. Letting go, his feet crunched in the snow as he landed. Coran took a quick look back up to where he had started the climb down, and then down to his hands. They were dirty and there was some blood on them from where they had been scraped by bark. Rubbing his hands on his pants he took a look around. Of the tower, only the very base remained standing, a circle of stone only three feet high. All around him stones and wood lay where they had fallen, or been blown in the initial explosion. He found Ice lying in the snow not far away, where it had fallen in his mad leap from the tower. Picking up the blade he sheathed it with a practiced professionalism.
He could see shapes moving through the trees, people searching the rubble strewn hillside. He spotted one in particular and his heart leapt in his chest. Ignoring the pains in his thigh where Elthzidor had cut him, and his face where the piece of stone had gashed him, and from the fall through the trees where branches had scratched him, and his hands, and his back from hitting the stone wall, he hurried towards her.
Katelyn spotted him and ran to meet him. He threw his arms around her and held her tight. “I am so glad you are all right,” he said putting a hand to the back of her head as she leaned against his chest.
She pulled away slightly to look at his face. Seeing the number of scratches it was a worried look. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he said, and it was true. He had never felt better.
“Thank the Creator,” Tenobius exclaimed as he came near. He walked slowly, resembling the old man he appeared to be. “You survived. When I saw the tower fall, and then found Elthzidor’s body I feared the worst.”
“You found him?” Coran asked.
“Yes.” It was Katelyn who answered. “He was pretty well smashed up in the fall.”
“Did you find his sword? A black one?” Coran questioned with concern.
“No.” Tenobius shook his head. “All we found was the body.”
Katelyn frowned as they talked. “What sword?”
“It is called Fire,” Tenobius stated simply.
“Another sword like this?” She pointed at Ice in its sheath and waited for Coran’s nod before rounding on the wizard. “You knew?” Katelyn accused the man.
“And you did not tell me?” finished Coran.
At least the wizard had the decency to look ashamed. “I am sorry. I was only supposed to tell you so much. I should have told you about the sword, but it would have led to other questions, with answers that you are not yet ready for.”
He was getting a little tired of being told that he was not ready. After all he had been through someone was still playing games. His face must have shown his anger because the wizard visible shrank away from him. Coran let go of Katelyn, then took her arm and led her away from the ruined tower.
“Don’t you want to know about the sword?” she asked him.
“Later, maybe. The battle is over and I want to go somewhere, anywhere that is not here.” He had too many things to think about, or to forget if he could.
“What about the other army we saw? Will they not fight now?”
“I doubt it,” he said.
As they cleared the trees his prediction was proven correct. The enemy was retreating over the next rise and the army of Midians and Northmen were already rejoicing at their victory. They raised their swords in the air and shouted for joy. The gray overcast that had been there all day did not return after Elthzidor’s control of the winds was removed. Spaces of blue sky appeared and the sun showed itself for the first time low in the west.
He stopped and she placed herself in front of him. She leaned with her back against him and pulled his arms around her like a cloak.
“Now what?” the Queen asked him as they watched tens of thousands congratulate each other, and themselves, on surviving the day.
“Hopefully, we can go home,” he replied not sure if they would be able to. Elthzidor had said a lot of things before he died. They all added up to the fact that things might not be as simple as they seemed. He did not want to think about that right now though. All he wanted to do was enjoy the moment.
“Then what?” she asked and he could tell that she was smiling even with her back to him.
Miko put his back to the wall and waited for the soldiers to pass by. With no one on the streets of Arencia except for Ithanians he had a good idea what was happening, and it was not the homecoming he had hoped for. Being with Coran had taught him how not to be seen. Keeping to the shadows as much as possible he was able to work his way home.
He knocked on the wooden door of his adobe house. A few moments later the door was opened a crack.
“Who is it?” a woman asked. He could never forget that voice.
“It is your loving husband come home.”
The door was opened and he slipped inside. They hugged each other tightly.
“What has happened here?” he asked after they parted.
“The Ithanians. It is as bad as the old tales say it was when they ruled over us long ago.” Her face was sad. “They came and took away all the young men.”
“Oran?” he gasped.
“Is safe,” she said permitting herself a small smile for that. “When the rumors started he and many others went to the mountains to be safe in case they were true.” She shook her head in misery. “What is happening to the world?”
“Change,” Miko replied feeling just as sad. “The M’Shai has come.”
It was her turn to gasp in surprise. “Truly?” He nodded. “Then it has started.” Her voice sank further with each word.
“Yes, my wife. The Great War has begun.”
About the Author
Wayne was born in February 1972
in Madison, Wisconsin. As he grew up he
developed a keen interest in historical
information and spent time studying the
Greeks, Romans, other civilizations in Britain
and the rest of Europe. After working a
variety of jobs, he finally succumbed to his
Fire And Ice (Book 1) Page 67
