The Steel Lord: Book 01 - BannerFall

by Jason McWhirter

  One of the dark clad figures stepped forward, pulling back the hood that had covered her head and revealing her identity. It was Lyra, and she did not look very happy. “I’ve been busy,” she spat.

  “Did you secure the gate and send up the signal?” It had been easy for Lyra to slowly infiltrate the city with fighters. The warriors that Kahn Taruk had recruited and trained were all from Kael or Argos, men whose physical appearance blended in well with the Dy’ainians. These men had been hand-picked and trained for two years by the finest Saricon fighters, and had also been taught the secrets of subterfuge and murder by some of the best assassins and thieves in Corvell. Two hundred highly trained men had been easy to hide within the city, disguised as common men they blended in with its inhabitants. Then, when everything had fallen into place and the two Saricon armies had arrived, they had been called upon, their plan set in motion by a lone spy who had warned them that the Saricons were in position.

  And they had reacted quickly. Lyra had spent a week building a network of spies, each one having a specific duty to perform as part of the overall plan. Once the king and queen were dead, word had reached the men and they had quickly converged on the palace and main gate. Stealthily, they had killed the main guards in the palace, donning their uniforms and armor. The ruse would not last long. But it didn’t need to. It provided just enough time to allow the Saricons entrance into the city. Lyra had joined them as they killed the gate guards, the men putting on their armor and uniforms. Then she had sent her fireball into the air signaling Kahn Taruk that the gate was under their control. As she spoke with Daricon, thousands of Saricons who had stealthily hidden themselves around the city were already attacking the outskirts of the city, as well as the gate, paving a way for the Saricon army to enter Cythera. Everything had gone perfectly, except for the fact that her entire crew was dead and the prince was still alive.

  “Yes,” Lyra replied testily, “but we have not yet secured the palace or the city. We dispatched the guards that saw us, but there are still others and they will be calling the alarm soon. There was no way they could hide all the bodies and the blood. It won’t be long before the surviving Sentinels figure something is wrong.”

  “Not long at all,” came a voice from behind them. Instantly the dark clad men ran to the center of the room as ten Dygon Guards burst in, led by Kulvar Rand. The men, their silver armor polished, their Kul-brite blades held low, flanked their leader. Each man was grim faced, poised, eyes narrowed, ready for action. “I had a feeling there was a rat behind all this.”

  Daricon stepped forward. “Master Rand, I must be honest and tell you it most certainly is not a pleasure to see you.”

  “Why did you do it?” Kulvar asked, stepping closer.

  Daricon shrugged. “I have spent most of my entire life at the garrison, and for what? So my brother could live here in luxury? My wife here,” Daricon said as Mylena stepped next to him, “showed me a better way.”

  “You mean Heln?”

  “Yes. Join us. Heln rewards strong warriors. There is no need for further violence. Join us and help us bring Heln’s word to everyone in Dy’ain.”

  Kulvar spit on the ground. “I would rather die in this room, with the memory of Dy’ainian kings around me.”

  “We have fifty skilled men. You are but ten.”

  “We are Dygon Guards.” Kulvar Rand said nothing more, the energy of his aura coiling inside him like a snake. Suddenly he bolted forward, his men beside him. Despite the lightning speed of the Dygon attack, the superior numbers of the black clad warriors enabled them to close in on them as Daricon and Mylena retreated to the back of the room. Lyra, self-preservation always her first thought, joined them.

  “We need to leave, and now!” Daricon shouted over the fighting. Mylena had suddenly changed, from the quiet submissive wife, to a warrior, fiercely gripping her short sword, her eyes wild with the prospect of danger.

  “Why?” Lyra asked, but it took her only a few glances towards the fighting to answer her own question. The ten Dygon Guards were a whirlwind of silver steel as the black clad warriors were slowly, but inexorably, being slaughtered, cut down by the relentless barrage of Kul-brite blades. The floor became a slippery surface of crimson as the bodies piled up.

  “We cannot defeat them!” Daricon shouted, the specter of fear in his voice.

  “I have an idea, but it will be dangerous,” Lyra suggested. Glancing back at the fighting she realized they would not have much time before the Dygon Guard were upon them. “Follow me.”

  She ran to the rear entry of the conference room which emptied onto a balcony overlooking the palace gardens. They seemed trapped. “What is your plan!?” Mylena asked impatiently.

  “Come close to me,” Lyra said. When they did she wrapped her arm around each of their waists. “I have a fly spell. But I’ve never enacted it with three people. And even if it is successful the landing may be rough.”

  Daricon looked back at the handful of his men that remained. He wasn’t sure, but it appeared as if most of the Dygon Guard had survived. It would only be moments before they were upon them. “Do it,” he said.

  Mylena and Daricon held on tightly as Lyra performed the spell. She had tasked some energy from them both when she had originally entered the room, from force of habit, and she was glad for it now. If she had waited, she would be tasking auras filled with negative energies. Within moments a howling wind spun beneath them lifting them off the stone balcony. “Hold on!” she yelled. Straining with all her skill and strength, she lifted the trio into the air and over the edge, heading for a dark side street beyond the palace walls.

  Mylena screamed in fear as they hurtled down, descending so quickly they nearly hit the top of the palace wall. Surging the last of her energy into the spell, Lyra tried to slow their descent by creating a powerful updraft. But they were just too heavy. The alley street was rising to meet them at an alarming rate.

  “Brace yourself!” Daricon shouted as he let go of Lyra at the last moment, jumping free from the whirling wind platform and hitting the stone pavers of the road with great force. Daricon was a skilled warrior, and agile, so it came natural for him to tuck and roll, lessening the impact. Sprawled across the road, bruised and scraped but not seriously hurt, Daricon watched Lyra and Mylena tumble across the stone pavers, arms and legs tangled in what looked like a painful landing. He scrambled to his feet and ran over to them, relieved to find that neither had any broken bones. Mylena had struck her head hard and blood poured from a long gash above her right eyebrow. They had suffered a number of cuts and bruises but they were able to stand.

  Suddenly a horn sounded in the distance. It was a Saricon horn. It was the signal to converge on the gate house. Once Lyra had launched her fire signal, the Saricons, led by Karnack, had snuck into the outer city, indiscriminately slaughtering everyone they encountered, the sounds of their screams filling the night. At the same time, a thousand of the invaders ran directly to the gate house to help secure the gate with the men who were already there. Once at the gate, they would again use their horn to signal for Kahn Taruk’s forces to swarm into the city, their combined forces killing any who stood in their way.

  “Let’s get to the gate,” Daricon ordered.

  ***

  Karnack stood in the inner courtyard just beyond the gate, a thousand of his men fanning out behind him. He was smiling, relishing the chaos before him, his axe held low and dripping blood. The civilians were frantically attempting to flee the murderous invaders, while the Legionnaires were trying to assess the chaotic situation and set up a proper defense. Officers shouted out orders but it was clear that no one was prepared for the fierceness of the attackers they now faced, their swords and axes dripping with the blood of their fellow Dy’ainians.

  They had already killed several hundred Legionnaires who had tried to retake the gate. They had been caught totally by surprise, the suddenness and ferocity of the attack making it nearly impossible to raise any type of resista
nce. No one inside the city had suspected the Saricons would, or could, mount such a massive invasion with such stealth and surprise. Where had they come from? They had assumed the enemy was a half-day’s ride away. Then, in the next instant, the city was suddenly overrun by them. The Legionnaires had no time to ponder the question as Saricon steel cut into them.

  Continuous waves of Saricons rushed from the outer city to fill the inner courtyard. Hundreds ran up the stairs to the top of the wall to reinforce their brethren on the barbican. From there they moved along the wall in both directions trying to clear it of Legionnaires. The fighting was fierce along the wall and the sounds of steel on steel could be heard even above the screams of the officers and the frightened townsfolk near the gate. Nearly five hundred of the toughest, most battle tested Saricons remained near the barbican. They had to protect the gate mechanism at all cost. The gate must stay open until they could get Kahn Taruk’s forces into the city.

  Just as Karnack lifted his axe to give the signal to move forward, twenty silver armored warriors ran from the darkness to stand before them. The remaining Legionnaires, seeing the Dygon Guard plant their feet before the overwhelming enemy, found their courage and hastened to gather around them. Within moments the chaotic scene had turned from a rout to a defensive stand of several hundred defenders flanking the twenty Dygon Guard.

  “I honor your courage!” Karnack shouted in Newain so all could hear. “But you cannot win this fight!”

  There was a sudden commotion behind the Dygon Guard as Kulvar Rand and the seven surviving fighters rushed to the front to join their brethren. They were dripping with sweat and splashes of crimson had dulled the shine of their silver armor, but their eyes were hard with determination. After Daricon had escaped they had run with all haste to the main gate knowing that the fight would be there. They were correct.

  Master Rand stepped to the front, his sword held low. “Maybe we can’t. But have no doubt that you will die by my blade. We will honor our late king and queen by drenching these pavers with Saricon blood!”

  Karnack laughed, though the bravado of these thirty men had slightly unnerved him. But there was nothing else to say, so Karnack lifted his axe and screamed, “Heln!” Then he charged, several thousand massive Saricons behind him, and more were pouring through the gate every moment.

  “Hold!” Kulvar shouted over the pounding feet of the Saricon horde. Legionnaires, knowing the Guard’s capabilities, spread out, their shields held before them and their feet planted firmly. “Fuse now!” Eight of the men, including Kade and Kulvar Rand could Fuse, and they had already moved to the front. They knew their role and needed no orders. Eight blades burst with fire, as the Saricons were nearly upon them. “Now!” Instantly, thirty fighters, their bodies bursting with aura energy surged forward.

  The Saricons at the front saw nothing but flashes of silver and aura flames before they died, their throats cut and their bodies pierced. Within moments the twenty seven warriors had killed a hundred men. Anyone watching from the rooftops would scarcely have believed what they were witnessing. Flaming Kul-brite blades created dancing arcs of energy as they cut through steel weapons and armor with ease.

  Kulvar Rand went straight for Karnack, who, knowing that he must if he wanted to live, had brought forth his Fury. His eyes burst with red fire as he let the wild energy take over. Their bodies, enhanced by their respective powers, came together with tremendous force, sword and axe clashing in a burst of sparks. Two swings later and Karnack’s axe had been sliced in half, each piece held in opposite hands. Desperately he threw the bladed portion at Master Rand and reached to his hip to draw his long knife. But he never made it. Kulvar Rand, surging more energy into legs, ducked beneath the blow, pushing forward and spinning on his toes, his flaming sword leading the attack. His blade struck Karnack’s arm as it reached for his dagger, dropping it to the ground in a spray of blood. One stroke later and Karnack’s head jerked back, his throat cut all the way to his spine. The Saricon war leader fell to the ground only to be trampled by the rush of the enemy as they pushed further forward.

  The thirty killed on a scale that no one had ever seen. But even as they cut through the center of the charging enemy, waves of Saricons surged around them, only to be met by the Legionnaires who had done their best to stay with the advancing Dygon Guard. And though more and more defenders were arriving as reinforcements for their comrades, trying to halt the advance of the invaders was like fighting off a charging kulg with a twig. Saricon axes and swords pounded relentlessly on the shields, their sheer numbers forcing them backwards. And their short spears, thrown with great power and accuracy, burst through their defenses, creating holes in the shield wall, and allowing the crazed enemy to break through. As the Dygon Guard cut through the center of the Saricon wave, the enemy slowly poured around them like cockroaches, cutting them off from the rest of the Legion. It wasn’t long before they were trapped, surrounded by nearly a thousand Saricon fighters screaming for their blood.

  Kade fought next to Kulvar Rand, both working in unison as they danced and sliced their way through the enemy, their fiery blades unstoppable. But they knew, as did the others, that they could not keep it up much longer. Soon, very soon, they would exhaust their auras, and no matter how skilled or tough they were, they would not be able to continue fighting.

  “For honor!” Kade screamed over the din of battle. The fifteen remaining Dygon Guards kept close, protecting each other’s flanks. They responded to Kade’s battle cry in kind, shouting, “Honor!” in unison.

  Kade had barely finished his battle cry when he was suddenly struck in the chest by a Saricon spear, catapulting him into the back of another Guard. He was dead before he hit the ground. The heavy weapon had pierced his armor, as well as his heart. The wave of Saricons continued to push in on them. But the dead were piling up so thickly that movement was difficult.

  Kulvar growled, raw anger surging through him and giving him more energy. Decapitating the nearest enemy, he reached down and snatched up Kade’s sword, spinning to take another Saricon in the chest.

  Two more Guards fell. “For King and Queen!” Kulvar screamed. Each Dygon Guard had taken an oath to protect the King and Queen of House Dormath at all cost. Even though they were both dead, they would still protect their memory, honoring what they stood for in blood and deed.

  “Dormath!” the remaining men yelled in unison.

  Kulvar fought with a skill unmatched and never before witnessed by anyone in Corvell or Belorth, his two fire blades killing twenty more men before he found himself alone, the only one remaining of his brave and loyal men. The thirty had killed over three hundred men, their bodies piled awkwardly across the inner courtyard. His silver blades, forged to kill, had performed their task with deadly efficiency. Ten more Saricons fell as their weapons sought Kulvar’s flesh. But his energy was waning, his body slowing, and that’s when his blood was finally spilt. A spear took him in the hip, spinning him around like a top. As he spun an axe angled towards his head. Ducking beneath it, he pierced the axe wielder’s heart, killing him instantly. Kulvar roared in defiance, trying desperately to find more energy. But there was none. His swords were now extinguished, their fire receding in a flash, his energy all but depleted. He urged his body to react against the attacks coming from all sides. But he was beyond exhausted and there was no more energy to draw upon. A sword thrust forward at him, deflecting off his armor before an axe then struck his shoulder, nearly taking his arm off. Falling to the ground, he looked up into the night sky, taking his last breath as Saricon steel cut into him. There was no pain as he glanced up at the stars sparkling above him. They drew the last of his consciousness upward, away from the gruesome reality in which he lay.

  ***

  Kivalla was alive because of blind luck. During the king’s dinner, just prior to the council meeting scheduled for later that evening, Kivalla had gone to his favorite bar to eat and think. His mind was often a constant whirlwind of thoughts. As the king’
s head advisor he was under a lot of pressure to be informed about events and issues within and without the kingdom. Sometimes he needed some wine and distraction to clear his head and help him put things in perspective. That’s what he had hoped to accomplish this evening. He was on his way back to the palace when five men, clad in dark cloaks, ran by him, moving with purpose in the same direction. He thought it odd, and if something seemed odd or unusual to Kivalla, it would occupy his mind until he had figured it out, as if the problem were a sliver which needed to be patiently scraped and dug at until it was finally removed. He slowed his pace and moved more cautiously as he thought.

  It was a good thing too, for as he came to the last corner before the open courtyard to the palace gate, he saw at least six men in black, like dark wraiths converge on the Sentinels, quickly killing the two at the gate. Simultaneously, the Sentinels he could see on the wall lurched, as if struck by something, their bodies dropping away behind the battlements. Within moments the gate opened and ten more men moved out to help them, pulling the bodies inside quickly to shut the gate once again. Kivalla continued to watch, dumbstruck, as different men, wearing the Sentinels’ armor, replaced the guards at the gate and on the wall. How had they gotten inside? What was happening? He couldn’t believe it but it looked as if the palace were being taken over. Yet there were two hundred Sentinels inside; there was no way they could take them all without being noticed. Soon there would be a fight. Thinking quickly, he remembered seeing Captain Hagen at the bar, so he ran back with all haste and found him.

  The captain was dining with two other Legionnaires that he did not know. Their conversation halted as the king’s adviser ran to them from across the room, his face sweaty and his eyes wide with fright. “Captain Hagen!” he blurted, his voice revealing his panic.

  “What is it Kivalla?” the captain asked, lowering his fork and leaning back in his chair. He was clearly concerned.