Legend of the Iron Flower Box Set (Books 1-4)

by Billy Wong

  "And can you have that?"

  She wasn't sure if she could or would have Finn back, the way she wanted, needed him. Her voice lacked conviction as she insisted desperately, "I will..."

  Brandon stroked her neck. "I don't think you believe yourself. It's sad, I know, but you have to face the truth you feel in your heart. It's no shame to turn elsewhere to fill your need. You're still quite young, Rose. Nowhere near ready to give up love."

  "I'm not. But my love isn't with you."

  He didn't reply so quickly as he had before, but his eyes showed no sign of defeat. Finally, he said, "You know not every love can stand the tests it faces. If one dies, that doesn't close the door for others."

  "Mine isn't dead," she breathed, and regretted the uncertainty in her voice she knew he'd caught.

  The carriage driver saved her from further upset. "My Count! We're here!"

  "Think about it," Brandon said while he helped her out of the carriage. She barely heard the words she didn't want to anyway, the agony of her wound making her exit doubled over with face contorted in pain. "Do you need to be carried?"

  "No!" she gasped, forcing herself to straighten somewhat. Looking around at the fort they'd arrived in, she sighed. It was a rather shabby-looking structure, with cracked, ill-maintained walls only twenty feet high, a disturbingly weathered wooden gate, and scarcely any soldiers in sight. "This is where we're staying?"

  To Rose's surprise, a young woman walked out to greet them. A stocky girl in a battered suit of scale mail, she had curly golden-blonde hair and two sturdy longswords on her back. "Count, you're safe! Everything's ready." She turned quickly to Rose. "You must be Rose Agen the-"

  "The Meatball," Brandon said.

  The girl looked Rose over and chuckled. "Well anyway I'm Ashleigh Cross, current commander of Fort Resnick. Very pleased to meet you, Iron M—Flower."

  Rose shook her hand, smiling as Ashleigh gaped at her strength. "Always a pleasure to meet another woman of arms. You look kind of young to be in charge. Must be really good, huh?" She remembered something. "That last name rings a bell—hope you're not related to a slaver named Morgan Cross?"

  Ashleigh laughed, and said to her surprise, "Yes, she was my aunt by marriage! Don't worry, I have nothing to do with them. That uncle was the black sheep of our family, anyway. I'm not that good, I don't think. I just got to lead because all the previous ones died."

  Rose put her hand to her head as she took in the words. "What? How?"

  "Really bad luck," Ashleigh said with slumped shoulders. "I hope I'm not the next to go."

  She didn't have anything against the woman or her soldiers, but pulled Brandon aside and whispered, "This is your idea of a good place to hide?"

  "Better than nothing. Ashleigh, how many men do you have?"

  "A score. How many did you bring?"

  "Thirty," he reluctantly answered.

  Rose sighed. "Well, we might be in for a rough time."

  "Then it's up to us girls to do the bulk of the fighting, eh?" Ashleigh quipped. She slapped Rose's back. The impact near her wound made her cry out, and Ashleigh bit her lip. "Oh no, sorry! What's wrong?"

  "Ballista... shot..." she gasped.

  "We're screwed, aren't we?" the female soldier said after a moment.

  Brandon shrugged. "Those monsters are pretty stupid, so let's not resign ourselves to doom just yet."

  Recovering from her pain, Rose added, "I still have plenty of fight in me. I know you do, right? Let's not add another embarrassment to the Kayland military's record."

  "I guess that would look rather bad," Ashleigh said. "This fort hasn't fallen since it was built, not that it's been in more than one battle, but still. You have a plan?"

  They told her, and everyone waited. Within the week, a horde of fagres attacked and the defenders slew them with relative ease, the monsters' crude ranged weapons aside from a few ballistae serving them poorly. Though she was still badly wounded, Rose grew anxious to search for the lair of the enemy and asked Count Brandon if he'd mind her leaving the fort. He agreed to let her go, but would himself accompany her. She planned now to find Finn and bring him to help, but since he waited for her return past the assumed location of the fagres' lair, she decided to check the place out first.

  #

  Brandon grew worried over the first couple days of combing the plains as he watched Rose struggle to keep up with the group consisting of them and a few soldiers, face twisted with pain. She limped along, often complaining about her discomfort but never asking for anything from the others, not a slower pace nor more frequent breaks. "Are you alright?" he asked her once when he saw her wince. "We can rest if you need it."

  "I don't. I never slow down when urgency's called for. I'll be glad to rest after we get rid of these monsters, though."

  "A normal person would be dead with the wound you have. You shouldn't push yourself any more than you have to."

  "If I'd thought to slow you down, I wouldn't have come out here." She smiled. "Besides, am I at all a normal person?"

  "No, but you're human all the same. Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

  "I've worked hurt plenty of times. It's not fun, but I can take it. Why are you hung up on me anyway? You got pretty hurt back there yourself."

  Brandon reached out and touched her shoulder. "Not nearly as bad as you. And I like you, Meatball."

  To his dismay, she brushed his hand off and walked away. "I know, and again, I'm taken. I don't feel comfortable with you proclaiming your attraction towards me all the time, and it's annoying. Give it up, Count. I mean, I'd love to be friends with you. But my heart belongs only to my Finn. Just let that sink in for a while, and maybe when we go back to the fort, you'll have learned to talk to me a little more appropriately."

  Brandon didn't know why she kept rejecting him, when it was obvious the relationship between her and her husband wasn't as strong as she wanted to believe. She hadn't even sent him a letter after her friends were badly hurt and herself shot with a ballista; what kind of love was this, that she couldn't turn to her man for comfort in her time of need? Too, he heard Finn did not even come home to see their children. He couldn't leave Rose trapped in her useless devotion to a man who didn't love her back.

  "Rose, you have to understand, your husband doesn't-"

  The voice of one of the men stopped him. "I think I've found some fagre footprints! A lot of them, too."

  Putting aside their discussion, Brandon walked over with Rose. Indeed, he saw a large number of fresh tracks, which he knew to be a lucky break. "Let's follow them to where they came from. Hopefully, they'll lead us to the lair."

  "What about the people at the fort?" Rose asked. "This is a big group of fagres, and it looks like they're headed that way. Will the others be okay without us?"

  Brandon worried a little about Ashleigh, but assured himself along with everyone else, "We handled the fagres pretty easily last time they attacked. Too bad for them they couldn't hit much of anything with their spears. I think our friends can manage."

  "Without us?"

  He patted her shoulder. "Don't worry, we're good, but we're just two fighters. I'm sure they'll be fine; they have their high walls, and Ashleigh."

  This brought a little grin to Rose's face. "I would've invited her to spar with me, if not for my wound. Is she good?"

  He thought of the fun they'd had together in the past and replied, "Yes, very good. Maybe not as good as us, but definitely head and shoulders above most warriors."

  "That's good to know. Let's check out that lair, then."

  "Yes, let's." Happy to see the end of their trials nearly in sight, Brandon led them on.

  #

  Derrick smiled as he saw Julie open her eyes. She'd only grown sicker and more feverish since arriving at the fort, and for a while he feared she would die. But it looked like she might finally be getting better. "How do you feel? You really scared us. It's great to see you awake again."

  She blinked, adjusting
to the unfamiliar light. "What happened? I was sure I'd die, when that ballista bolt came at me. But I'm glad to be alive."

  Derrick hugged her. "Rose saved you, remember? She slowed that bolt enough to keep it from going right through you. You were still really sick, but Ashleigh—our host—gave you some exotic medicine to help you recover."

  A great deal of worry appeared in Julie's eyes. "Rose... is she dead?"

  He smiled. "It figures you'd think that, having not seen her fight much before. No, she took it just fine—well, I'm sure she was in a lot of pain, but she even got up and killed the last of the fagres after saving you. She's away now, trying to find their lair."

  "I'm so glad she didn't die saving me. I'm not worthy of her risking herself so."

  Derrick shook his head. "She wouldn't agree with that, even if she might give you some lip over the hurt you caused her. She took claws the size of longswords through her body for me, too. It's okay, Julie. She'll be delighted to see her efforts weren't in vain—and I'm really glad about that, too."

  "Where are we?"

  "In Fort Resnick. We evacuated Trumil, to get the better protection of the fort. It's worked wonders. We had little trouble with the last attack, and I hope our luck can last until the others find and get rid of the fagre lair. They're ready to call an army on them!"

  Julie grinned. "Rose calling for help, huh? Guess that would be a good showing for the Kayland army, for once."

  They laughed together at that, then Derrick asked the still weak girl to get some rest. And he went outside, so happy he could almost float.

  #

  Ashleigh smiled as she surveyed the fort. Their defenses had held up well in the last attack, and their performance exceeded all her expectations—she'd lost only two soldiers, and five peasant fighters. She knew it'd been because of the fagres' lack of ranged capability, and thanked the gods for the monsters' stupidity. The warning horn made her turn to the south, and she realized another horde approached the fort. No matter, they'd be dealt with like the others had been. Watching proudly while the humans prepared for battle, she gave little notice to the details of their enemies. Only when the first arrows started flying did she realize the fagres now had bows.

  Chapter 4

  Derrick heard the panicked cries outside and wondered what exactly was going on. He guessed fagres must be attacking, but it sounded much worse than last time. Were there many more? Did they have siege equipment? He wasn't fully recovered from his wounds yet, but put on his chain shirt and went outside to see arrows haphazardly flying into the fort. Though the missiles were largely unaimed and had little accuracy, they came in great numbers, and people fell and died without their killers even seeing them. Derrick shuddered to meet the staring eyes of a young child with an arrow through his neck, his mother kneeling protectively over the corpse with several arrows in her back. Looking to the walls, he saw peasant fighters dying quickly, many failing to use their cover to much advantage as they tried to shoot back.

  Spotting Ashleigh on the wall, screaming to rally her men while she shot her own arrows, he yelled, "Too many are dying!"

  An arrow landed perilously close to Derrick's foot as the commander shouted back, "What am I supposed to do about it? There's so many archers!"

  "Tell the peasants to fall back!"

  She shook her head. "I need all of them, or they'll die anyway when the fort falls!"

  Though he'd hate seeing the men die all around him, Derrick ran up onto the wall, shouting a helpless warning of "Be more careful!" to the struggling peasants as he raised his own crossbow to shoot down at the horde. Oh no, that was a lot of them to have bows... Those without tried to climb up using poorly made ladders, and with their lack of experience doing so were repelled fairly easily for the moment. However, a bunch of fagres brought a battering ram to bear, and with their tremendous strength Derrick had no doubt they wouldn't have much trouble pounding down the gate if given the chance.

  Ashleigh could see that as well, and ordered, "Kill the ram!" Arrows streaked down, and Derrick was glad to see the fagres still unused to defending against archery. The ram dropped to the ground, many of its bearers dead beside it. Other fagres took up the beam, and were slaughtered in turn. But the larger fight took its toll on the defenders, and as the number of human archers decreased, the fagres found the opening to drive the ram with fearsome impact into the gate. They did it again, and a third time. The shabby-looking gate's resilience surprised Derrick, but he knew it could not hold forever, and wished Rose or Finn were here to wreak havoc on the enemy the way they did. On the sixth blow, the wood cracked, and the seventh broke down the sturdy portal. Fagres rushed in.

  Suddenly Ashleigh gave a yell, and to Derrick's shock an iron portcullis behind the main gate came down on the fagres. Three were impaled beneath the heavy structure, and half a dozen more trapped inside to be promptly slaughtered. Fort Resnick had better defenses than he'd thought, though he still doubted if they could weather the storm. The fagres now began working on this second obstacle with their ram, but at this point some of the women could no longer stand to remain powerless in deciding their fates and came out to help, doing whatever they could to slow down the attackers. Boiling water, heavy stones, and other mundane dangers fell onto the fagres, dropping a few and slowing down others. Flaming arrows shot by soldiers sent fagres running amongst their hairy brethren to spread the flames, and Derrick took heart in the damage the humans inflicted on the monsters. But at last the portcullis gave, and now they would have to play their enemies' game.

  As most of the defenders' attention was diverted to the fagres coming through the gate, the ones climbing ladders began to make it over as well. Derrick stayed on the wall, slashing at smelly monsters when they came into view. He noticed Ashleigh doing a similar job with her two longswords and nodded appreciatively. Then she ran over to the section of wall above the gate, and Derrick realized several huge rocks had been placed there. With surprising strength, she pushed them off onto the incoming fagres and smiled at her handiwork. The beasts still outside started to move the obstructing boulders with their own great strength, but many were shot down as they attempted to do so. Seeing the fighters on the wall held their own, Derrick ran to join those on the ground. Though a saddening number of humans fell dying, many more fagres did, and Derrick felt hope that they could prevail. Then Ashleigh stumbled backwards and tumbled off the wall, falling directly at him.

  He knew Rose would've tried to catch the armored woman, but Derrick would only be injured attempting such a feat. He jumped back, allowing Ashleigh to hit the ground hard at the end of her twenty-foot descent. His heart skipped a beat at the arrow protruding from her upper chest. "Are you okay?!"

  Her eyes closed as she grimaced in pain, she whispered, "Brandon?" Then she opened her eyes and saw Derrick. "You don't to have to yell," she breathed, and slowly rolled over onto her side. "I'm going to kill that archer." Derrick felt a sense of admiration as the injured woman stood with a little help from him and turned back to the fight. A fagre two feet taller than most charged through the rain of arrows into the fort and smacked Ashleigh with a club like a tree trunk, sending her flying through the wooden wall of a nearby shed. Derrick feared momentarily for the downed warrior, but that was quickly replaced by fear for himself when the giant fagre raised its club again.

  It already bristled with arrows, but hardly seemed to feel them as it roared deafeningly and swung at Derrick. He ducked and tried to slice its groin, but it hopped back to avoid the blade. It blocked several slashes, backhanded him down, and brought its club up to crush him. He rolled aside and stabbed it in the leg. It kicked him, and he thought he heard a rib break. Either way, his side was on fire and he couldn't get up just now. Knowing he couldn't block the club with his sword, he sat painfully as the fagre raised it for the killing blow and plunged his blade deep into its lower belly. To his immense relief it fell, thrashed wildly roaring even louder than before, and died.

  Derrick turned to se
e Ashleigh walk out of the hole in the shed, light hair darkened with blood and face a crimson mask. She swayed with a hand pressed tightly to her head, and had difficulty focusing her drowsy gaze. Looking at his dead opponent, she remarked, "You killed the archer."

  "You have to go get checked out," he said with concern.

  She shook her head, though he thought she'd pass out doing it. "Your friend wouldn't, and I'm still standing. Fight to the end, right?"

  "Rose wouldn't encourage anybody to follow her example. You can't push yourself beyond your limits trying to imitate her, you could die!"

  Ignoring him, she started again for the battle only to stumble and fall to her knees. Derrick started towards her, but other soldiers dragged her back first, and realizing the plight of the rest of his allies he turned back to the enemy. But it wasn't long before his ribs forced him to take a breather himself, wondering fearfully as he retreated at his fate.

  #

  Brandon spread his arms in a confused gesture as he walked into the wide cave. "It looks rather empty in here. Are we sure this is where the fagres came from?"

  "The footprints did lead right here," Rose said. But they'd peeked inside to see and hear nothing, and after entering had so far found... more nothing. "Maybe they all left?" Squinting at something on the floor of the cave, she knelt to get a better look. "This looks like dried blood, and thick at that. I think we're in the right place."

  Moving deeper into the moss-lined cavern, the little group came across a glaive upon the moist ground. Brandon recognized it on sight. "This is Graham's. I suppose this confirms he's dead."

  They stopped for a moment to pay their respects to the druid and continued. At the end of the tunnel, they came into a surprisingly small chamber, not much wider than the path they'd taken to reach it. In the back stood a tall, shimmering metal archway framing a glowing sheet of light. Marveling at the structure, Rose said, "I'd guess that's where they come from. But where does it lead? Someplace far away? Another world?"