Eye of Hel: Stories of the Nine Worlds (Ten Tears Chronicles - a dark fantasy action adventure Book 2)

by Alaric Longward

  She threw her hands to the sides, and fierce lines of fire flew from them to smash fiery death across the line of siege machinery and the elven maa’dark. Flames spread from left to right, and elves shrieked as she hunted them mercilessly; the machines caught fire and thousands of elves yelled in surprise. ‘Take her!’ Danar shrieked, still not understanding it was not I. Many elves charged for Cherry.

  She weaved her spell of vapors and heat and disappeared. Her horse bolted and threw some of the charging elves to the mud.

  The elves stared in utter stupefaction, and no matter if they lived in a land of Glory and Shades, there were so many spells one could never see if one lived several lifetimes. Cherry’s was rare. ‘Get ready!’ I yelled. The bridge slammed back down over the moat. Some elves turned to look at the bridge as others were pulling the few as yet unscathed and only moderately scorched engines from the fire. Many elves were burning fiercely amidst the chaos.

  Danar took a step forward, frowning. Then his eyes went huge with shock. He turned and twisted, and Cherry stabbed at his back. Blood flew, the great elf shrieked and fell to his knees, and the elves reacted lightning fast. Blades were coming for Cherry, whips of fire went up. I felt Cherry was exhausted; she was likely upset at having failed to kill Danar, but she still managed one more disappearing spell. If the elves hit her, I knew not. She would try to escape and take our message to Trad. She might make it, I prayed and looked to see if her corpse would appear as the bodyguards scythed the air around Danar, their whips flying.

  She did not appear.

  ‘He is down, but not dead,’ I yelled. Let her get away, I prayed.

  ‘Blow the horns, gods be with us,’ Ompar yelled.

  The horns of Lowpass were blown. They rang out forlornly, dull and hollow, promising neither victory nor glory, but death. We wanted to kill as many elves as possible. The gates were opened in the fort and the tower. I saw a glimpse of astonished elves turning our way. ‘Forward!’ Dana screamed, some sort of battle madness claiming her. The army rushed from the Lowpass fort for the bridge, but the men in the tower prayed and rushed out first, their weapons drawn. The four hundred men who had been hidden in the tower ran on with jingling mail and uttering soft, deadly oaths. They faced a terrible elven army that was, for now, shocked. In the rush, I saw blazing ballista, some flaming elves, smoke, but beyond them, there were a thousand elves in battle line and two times their number would be getting ready up the hill as we spoke. Cherry had caused terrible chaos, but would it be enough? I prayed it would. On the Black Ring, the dull dark hill that overlooked the tower, there was a procession dragging a lord wearing black and gold. Danar had indeed been hurt.

  But not slain.

  The Tears stepped out the tower, waiting for the main army. I nodded at Dana, and she nodded toward Ompar’s back. We would try to stay close to him. We heard archers shout out challenges up ahead, across the bridge as both sides awoke to the battle. Hundreds of men ran across the bridge and over the moat to the smoke, and soon they tore gleefully into the already burning ballista and their desperate crews. Then, there was a weird sound of rushing leaves, but it was elven maa’dark that changed the ground into mud and strangling vines. Men were dying by the dozen and disappearing under the mud. A whirlwind of fire could be seen sweeping over the ballista, tossing burning corpses left and right, but the men bunched up and went up with mad bravery for the scattered archers, too brave maa’dark and retreating siege operators and ultimately, the waiting mass of elven infantry. Arrows flew from the tower for the elves we could not see due to the smoke, but some fell back amidst us. ‘Hurry!’ Ompar screamed, gesturing madly at the army crossing the main bridge. And the army did hurry, stomping over it, armor jingling, weapons weaving in the air. Arrows fell amongst us again, and some tardy men from the tower fell down, dead and dying. Albine was shivering near me. Lex and Ulrich were holding shields in front of us and then the army reached the tower, and the remaining guards there stared at the ferocious human troop with huge, shocked eyes. A man ran across the bridge from the attack and fell before me. ‘Lady!’ he yelled at me. ‘They have dozens of casters on the Black Ring with the elven regiment. We lost half the men!’ The land rocked, the smoke cleared a bit. I saw the small, determined group of men huddling amidst a mass of elven warriors slaughtering them at the foot of the Black Ring. They had killed the crews of the siege machines, but they were doomed. Now terrible ice and scorching fire spells tore at them. A group was turned into glittering ice; stone hands ripped apart a dozen men. There were still two ballista being put into readiness. A thousand elves were surrounding their enemy in a glittering wall, and some hundreds were coming for the back of the men.

  ‘Break them!’ I yelled at the army pouring out of the tower. ‘Up there, and hurry!’ I pointed my finger at the rippling mass of elven troops flanking the few humans, but some elven warriors were now looking our way. Arrows fell upon the mass of men, and one glanced off my helmet. Ompar saw that and frowned, perhaps realizing the Charm Breaker was not under my cloak. The men hesitated, holding shields up, their eyes glinting fearfully. These were their masters, former masters. To attack the gleaming mass of elves? Foolish men! ‘Show them,’ I yelled, and Ulrich and Lex stepped to one side. Dana and Albine to the other. They weaved spells of fire. Ulrich’s was his very strange spell, a creature of fire. He weaved it together, haphazardly, braiding the hottest flames and horrible scorching lava together, and while he was a bit unsure what he was doing, I felt it go right. I heard a distant yell, and a ferocious thing was summoned in the middle of an elven regiment that was hacking at the humans. A hand appeared from the ground, a scorching and flaming fist. The hand pulled more of the creature out. Swords and spears passed through it, and perhaps the elves thought it would be fighting for them. Cosia the Gorgon had dismissed this spell the one time I had seen it, but now there was no one to stop it. The thing grew up to ten feet in height. Ulrich was moving his hand, and I felt he was controlling the thing, though only barely as he sweated and trembled with the effort. It turned toward a large group of the enemy.

  And then it ran.

  The elder folk burned in their armor as it stepped on them. Ten, then twenty died, and the whole shieldwall rippled into a confused mass of warriors who wanted to run away. I saw elven maa’dark approaching the thing with apprehension, calling for spells of water. A small hurricane of frigid liquid filled the area where the elemental stood, slaying and drowning elves, and I saw how it was constructed. I copied it, pulled the same streams to me and let go of the spell where the elf caster was standing. She and two others like her were pulled into the vortex, and their screams were soon cut off as they drowned.

  Albine pulled her spell together, the storm of fire and released it at a group of archers rushing our way. They screamed and died, bits of their flesh burning in the air. Lex was weaving hugely powerful spells of firewall that rushed over the moat, up for the hill and then through unprepared ranks of shield-bearing enemies, burning foes in their armor, and then it exploded across the army shieldwall. Twenty or more went down, flaming and screaming.

  And Dana? She did what she could do.

  She gathered the undecipherable amount of power. I felt it. It was perfect. There were cinders and flows of magma in that spell. She ran forward in front of the human army that was now slowly exiting the tower, gathering confidence. While she did that, I called for the ice spikes, weaved together a spell of fierce winds and biting cold and raised it in the heart of the now six hundred strong elven army turning from the hundred or so survivors of the initial battle towards us. Hundreds were bravely massing to rush us. Fifty spirals of ice went up; the ground turned slippery, and the ice speared many elves. A red-armored general of the regiment was now exhorting his elves to rush and bottle the bridge and they charged down for us, for the moat, and this was when Dana released the spell. It built into an undulating wave-like intensity. She kept holding it, growing it, and all the grass and plants died as she let go. It whipped
across the bridge, scorching the wood, blackening stone, and then the spell went up the hill, igniting everything in its path. Wounded humans and elves burned to cinders. Some humans ran from the heat, but mostly the spell went for the hundreds of the enemy that had rushed downhill. That mass was now faltering. They broke as they saw their death coming. The general was screaming orders; their shields banged together in their panic, and hundreds of elves ran instead of fighting. The wave went up over the rippling, fleeing wall of elves, and then crashed down with vengeance as Dana let go of it, finally. Here and there, an elf caster survived it, thanks to spheres of protective magic, but even then, they were left on the ground, gasping for air. Two hundred of the enemy did not survive as their bones and burning flesh jerked and convulsed under steaming shields and armor. There was a twitching sea of dead and dying elves, and our human army gaped in horror. Hundreds of elves ran.

  ‘Kill them!’ I screamed. ‘Up to the Black Ring!’

  Then I fell.

  A ballista stone ball had grazed my shoulder, and I was thrown into the mud. There were still two of them operational, and another missile ripped through the tower’s doorway to kill twenty men. I got up to my elbows, gasping, gathering healing powers, but Ompar’s men did not notice.

  ‘Up the Black Ring!’ yelled a ferocious man. Nearly two thousand answered.

  ‘Kill the arrogant murderers,’ another screamed. And they charged over the moat.

  The hill was now crowded with enemy troops. There were nearly two thousand elves up there now, looking down at us, dubious as hundreds of theirs fled in panic. Red Heart Brigade, the elven elite unit had not expected such a fight.

  But they were far from finished.

  They had the spears and the swords, and the skill to use them. Hundred or more were maa’dark. A thick wall of shields was tightening around the top of the hill, and before Danar’s tent.

  The Tears ran with the troops. Dana was exhausted, but she was staying near Ompar. They were no match for the seasoned elven nobles that had lived for hundreds of years, slowly learning the art of spells and war, but the Ten Tears had been taught to kill, and kill they did. And Dana had the Charm Breaker. The army of over two thousand men charged forward, and a similar number of elves were now waiting on top. There was little discipline in our army as they streamed over the bridge, and the survivors of the first attack joined them, exhausted, shaken, but still they went in a cone-like formation. ‘Fast!’ I gasped at the men passing me.

  I had been left behind.

  I let go some of the healing powers and felt the pain in my shoulder ease. I got up and rushed after the army, unsteady, but on my feet. A volley of arrows tore into men near me, and many toppled. Some archers among our men turned to fire at leather wearing elves on the side and many of them howled in pain as their former subjects let go with the arrows.

  Ompar’s flag was in the middle of the huge column, up ahead, and he was apparently shrieking the same encouragement. ‘To the Black Ring!’ I heard Ompar scream as more and more of the army reached the bottom of the hill. I saw Dana briefly as well. There was a reason why she was going up first. I should have been there as well. I saw Ompar speak to her harshly; she was banging the shield strapped to her back, and Ompar sought me with his eyes. He found me crossing the bridge, far behind them, and I pointed at Dana, and he reluctantly followed her. The army went up the hill and grew wide to match the elven army on the top. The enemy casters stood forward, and I was overwhelmed by the magic they were weaving. Archers ran down as well.

  Dana rushed up before the whole army.

  Ompar had wanted me to do so, and to guard Dana, but she was there alone now, and I prayed the Charm Breaker would do the trick.

  She ran for the middle of the enemy line, beyond the shields of the humans and hundreds of arrows aimed her way. The elven casters were pointing at her also, and spells of fire and ice and lightning were weaved together. Elven banners waved high above their heads, blood red and death black. I struggled up and ran on, pushing at men. While doing that, I ripped and tore as many of the enemy spells apart as I could, one by one. There were a dozen explosions, and blue lightning ripped through the enemy army. Men surged ahead, terrified.

  ‘Fire!’ yelled someone in the enemy ranks.

  Most of the army fired at Dana. A flurry of deadly arrows ripped at her. Many went past her and sunk into the charging mass of men. Spells barreled into her form; fire grew in pillars around her. Lightning flashed at her; storms whirled around her. A hundred men died beyond her. Then all that magic winked out.

  Yet she stood.

  Around her were hundreds of arrows, broken, twisted, spent. The fires were scorching the grass and its roots, but she was unscathed. Men had been hit hard, but not nearly as hard as they would have been had it not been for Dana. I heard her mad laughter, and I saw the elves step back in terror at the specter of an untouchable human girl.

  She took steps forward, pushing aside the arrows with her feet. Then she gathered her great spell again, tottering with exhaustion, did it expertly nonetheless and let go another wave of fire. It ripped up from her hands and tore through the enemy with a vicious roar like a gigantic tidal wave. It slapped over the hillside and burned hundreds of enemies down, and a fair number of tents flew to the sky, flaming. Rows of shields rattled to the mud; elves were screaming, heaps of charred and skeletal, flaming and pitiful elves were burning. Dana fell on her knees with exhaustion, but there was a great hole in the enemy now. Generals and officers were pulling at their shocked elves to respond. Arrows were aimed at our army now. The human army shot theirs first. Javelins soared, stones flew, elves fell, and many looked incredulous, afraid as Dana had shattered their ranks. Firewall spells from the Tears grew left and right of the breach, scattering the troops that were shocked already by the terrible death toll. Then a tall, handsome elven general screamed an order. It was a raging and desperate call, one meant to restore their honor, to deny humans their incredible victory. ‘Gut them! Attack!’ he yelled.

  The elves abandoned all sense and order and began to fight.

  The ragged regiments charged down. An elven war cry is a strange, terrifying thing to hear. It was thin and piercing, inhuman and full of rage. They had been dished up a surprise, and now it was their turn. The mass of hardy humans ran up; the Tears were with them. The enemy rushed down, and Dana retreated, stumbling before them. The ground shook. Then the two forces met. A huge crash of death echoed through the land. Groans of the dying, the shrieks of the mortally wounded, the screech of metal on metal and the rancid stink of burning flesh filled the air. I spotted Lex and Ulrich in the press, red-hot whips sweeping through the enemy troops, and then the masses mingled crazily. I struggled that way. I noticed the young woman I had first seen in the Arch was there with me, holding me up.

  ‘What is your name?’ I asked her.

  ‘Sinnia,’ she said softly. ‘You hurt?’

  ‘A bit,’ I said. ‘Be careful, love,’ I said, smiled at her and pushed up and ran amidst the bodies, and Sinnia helped me.

  The elves were savage and fast, and humans were falling in great numbers at first. In the press of bodies and shields, though, the shields and swords and axes of the men were very effective, and it seemed they had a long history of mistreatment to pay back for. They had indeed endured elven cruelties. The men chanted, elves screamed challenges, and there was a strange rhythm in the killing. I went forward and began gathering healing spells. I pushed up; Sinnia stayed with me and up there, I saw Ompar push his most elite men to the center of the enemy. There, the enemy general sat on a strange, long lizard with a golden saddle. His adjutants were riding back and forth, giving orders and slowly the elven army began flowing to the sides of the humans. A hundred men were trying to push against a thick wall of elven shields, the beautiful, bright-eyed warriors hacking over their shields. Elves fell, men fell, spears flashed, and arrows flew. ‘At them!’ Ompar shrieked, pushing to the front of the battle. His swords flashed under
the shields of two enemies, killing them. More pushed him back with long spears, drawing blood. Lex was there, his whip slapping down at the enemy, splitting metal and flesh. Then a stone hit Lex in the face, and he fell on his back. Ulrich pulled at him in the press. Albine cast a fierce wall of fire across the enemy ranks, burning even the general’s mouth and chin, but then a fiery blue magical missile hit her. She rolled away, dazed, her clothes burning. I gathered myself and wove the mighty healing spell. I shrieked, ran forward and released it at the tight group before us. It healed our men. It reached and healed Albine and helped Lex in his pain, but it also healed the enemy.

  I was at the back of the human mass now and could not get forward. The elves stopped to look at their mended wounds; just for a moment, and that’s when I followed the healing with death. There was a strange moment when many humans fell in the line and others stood to the side. I could see the elves through the throng. Then I saw the general, screaming, though I could not make out the words. I entwined the rains and energies of the icy flows, and huge lightning snaked out of my hands. I sobbed and hesitated as some humans stepped in the way and cursed as they died terribly, the men on the sides hurt as well, but the spell ripped on through the thick enemy army. It splintered shields, struck down elves, and the general’s mount was cut into two smoking pieces. The elf himself slumped on the saddle, his leg dark, and smoldering.

  And into this breach, Ompar went.

  The elven army shuddered in disbelief, in fear. They took steps back. Their flags fell. Ompar’s thousand remaining men attacked them wildly. Blood flowed down the Black Ring. The enemy lord’s tent was within reach, it seemed, just over the elves who were now looking behind their backs. Danar Coinar could be there, alive still. We pushed, we roared, and we attacked. A hundred elves fell when Ompar’s men turned in the breach to hack at their weak sides.

  Then, flutes blasted out harsh notes.

  The elven army turned and ran. The victorious men ripped into the back of the now running enemy, the wild faces jubilant with joy.