The Destroyer Book 4

by Michael-Scott Earle

  “Because she fears me?” I asked.

  Both women closed their mouths and glanced at each other. Like two sides of a mirror, they licked their lips slightly and then each ran a hand through her hair. My army had a silent hand language and I wondered if the empress’s army had a similar mode of communication.

  “How did you get your armor?” Vernine asked suddenly.

  “Armor?” I felt my body chill despite the heat in the air.

  “Yes. The Destroyer’s armor. Your armor. It emerged from your body as if your skin was merely covering it the entire time.”

  “And the Destroyer’s mace and shield were in your hands. I would not have believed it if I had not seen your transformation with my own eyes.” Fehalda sat up in her bedroll, but made a more conscious effort to cover her body than Vernine.

  “I don’t remember.” My head was starting to hurt again and my stomach felt queasy. I recalled bits and pieces of that night after I found Jessmei, but they didn’t make much sense.

  “Four hundred and thirty-two of our warriors died that night trying to protect our empress. Yet we bring you back to her now. Perhaps she will think us traitors; at the very least she will punish us for failing in our mission to banish you from this world.” The white woman shook her head and her pale long hair danced with various shades of orange, reflecting the firelight.

  “So why are you bringing me back to her?”

  “How do you not remember wearing your armor?” Fehalda seethed.

  “It makes my head hurt to think of it. A headache like something is splitting my skull open,” I admitted.

  “It must be your conscience forcing atonement for the horrors you have inflicted on hundreds of thousands of people.” She clenched her teeth and then looked away from me and into the fire.

  I sighed and settled back down in my blankets. We would have another discussion tomorrow while we traveled, then at night, then the next day, all the way until we reached Nia again. Fehalda was probably correct: Telaxthe would not want to be anywhere near me. I did not understand how my armor had returned to me. It must have been some magic beyond my comprehension. Stranger things had happened. I was still alive now, five thousand years after being beheaded by my friend.

  “I grew up happy.” My mouth formed the words as I looked up to the stars and twin moons. I didn’t recognize them, but I knew now why they were so alien to me. “I never met my mother. My father would not speak of her. She was killed by our Elven masters because she made a mistake.” I heard the women turn in their bedrolls but I didn’t look at them.

  “My father, brother, and I ran the blacksmith and stables for the chieftain’s house. There were other stables on the estate, but ours were the only ones she ever visited. I was terrified of her at first. Everyone feared her, every human, every Elven. She delighted in their terror and they fawned over her like idiotic butterflies. I worked all night making sure that the stables were spotless and the horses were groomed to perfection. She killed humans almost daily and I once saw her rip the limbs from a horse that had managed to throw her from its back. She was a terrible force of nature that was as beautiful as she was deadly.

  “I probably loved her before she even noticed me. I loathed your kind, but I had been lucky and escaped any real beatings or lashings. When she did notice me, I feared she would torture me at length before she murdered me. The thought of my brother and father missing me was almost more painful than the thought of actually dying at her hands.” I looked over at the women and saw them studying me with eyes that reflected the campfire like metal.

  “When we became lovers, it was wonderful. I had never known such intimacy could exist. I had never felt anything more incredible than her body. She taught me to please her, and I was more than eager to do so. We kept our affair hidden. I don’t know how long we were together, but I wanted it to last forever.”

  I saw Iolarathe’s face again in my memories and recalled the first time we had made love. I heard her moans of pleasure and the feeling of her beautiful body wrapped around my own.

  “What happened?” Fehalda asked, and I realized it had been half a minute since I spoke.

  “One of her suitors found out about us. My brother was helping me shoe a stallion. I was in the smithy getting a tool for him. The group of them came upon our building and yanked my brother out. She strangled him while I watched from the doorway. My father ran out to save him, but her suitors stabbed him.

  “I ran to their dead bodies, I thought she would kill me, and I wanted her to. The tribe was experimenting on humans. They were using magic to change them into something more powerful. She sent me there. They infused us with the Elements and locked us in cages for weeks in the dark, in our own filth. Most died. The few who lived were trained as warriors. I thought of her all the time, but I only wanted revenge. I had loved her with every fiber of my existence and she killed my family. I hated myself almost as much as I hated her.

  “Eventually, my friend and I orchestrated an escape. We freed others, and we fled. We lived in the shadows of the world and tried to scrape out an existence, but Laxile continued to pursue us. We made it to the other side of the world, and they gave up the chase. We built an army. A monster of humans whose sole purpose was to destroy their enslavers. My story was only unique because I loved the Elven who had betrayed me. All of my warriors had lost loved ones. All of us had been tortured, raped, humiliated. All of us had lived like animals at the hands of your people.

  “It was easy enough to harness their pain and rage into something productive. It was easy to motivate them with the promise of freedom. I believed I wanted to be free of Elven enslavement, but I just wanted to be free of her. I wanted revenge and I was willing to destroy everything to have it. She knew this. She told me when we met before the final battle. Before the dragons descended, she asked for my surrender. She told me she still loved me and she begged for forgiveness. She offered a truce.”

  “You refused,” Fehalda grunted. “I know this story. Every single Elven is taught how that battle ended.”

  “Of course I refused. I could not surrender after we had driven them to the brink of extinction. I could not surrender after promising thousands of my people a life of freedom. I could not surrender when the blood of countless humans had been spilled through generations by your people. I could not surrender when we were so close to victory.

  “Then the dragons came. My army killed two of them and the last one flew into the sky in an attempt to flee. I hung onto her talon but was thrown off. When I awoke, my lover had found me.” I did not want them to know the details of how I had defeated the dragons.

  “We made love again. My memories are still filled with holes, but I believe that it was the last time. I forgave her and she forgave me. We planned to flee into the wilderness to spend the rest of our lives together. Perhaps it was a foolish dream.” I recalled the last union of our bodies and wondered again at the child we had created. This was what I needed Telaxthe’s help with, but I had to tread carefully.

  “Shlara discovered us. She loved me, and I loved her, as much as I was capable. I had made a promise to end the Elvens and build a new life with her. But when she saw the choice I had made, she flew into a rage. I know the pain I caused her. I betrayed her. I betrayed all of our people. She must have felt the same way I did when Iolarathe killed my family.”

  “Your story is a lie, a falsehood from a deranged fool. There is no part of your tale that is true other than the Destroyer not accepting her offer of truce before that last battle. Iolarathe never even fought directly against Shlara.” Fehalda was shaking slightly and her face looked pained. Maybe part of her actually believed me.

  “You want to know what I will speak to your sister about. This is my story. You might not believe that Shlara attacked her, or that Iolarathe and I were lovers, or any of this, but my memories are almost complete, and I know their truth. I tried to stop Shlara from attacking. Iolarathe was skilled in combat, but Shlara was much stronger. She
was our most skilled warrior. Just as Shlara was about to make a fatal strike against Iolarathe, I intervened. I acted without thinking and my magic killed Shlara.

  “Iolarathe escaped and I waited to face Malek when he rode to rescue us. I do not know what happened then, I only remember searching for Iolarathe for a dozen or more years while my own people hunted me. Eventually we were both captured. I recall little after that.

  “Then I was awoken by the people on this world. They wanted someone to save them from the ‘Ancients’ conquering their planet. If I had awoken fully aware of my past, perhaps I could have approached the situation differently, but your empress also admitted making mistakes when she first came here.”

  “I do not believe that Iolarathe and you were lovers. It is impossible!” Fehalda seethed with more hate than I had ever heard in her voice. “She sacrificed her offspring for one chance to save our people. She was the only leader who ever had success against your army. She was your enemy and you were hers. She never would have loved you.”

  “Sacrificed her offspring?” I asked. I thought my heart had mended, but I suddenly felt jealous that she had mated with one of her own kind and made other children. It was foolish and I quickly pushed the emotions away.

  “I will not speak of it. Perhaps my sister will wish to tell you. If she even cares to speak to you. Your story was quite compelling, but I sense it was also full of other lies and half-truths. You’ll say whatever you think will get you close to my sister so you can murder her.” Fehalda sighed and lay back down in her bedroll. “I will honor my promise to you and ask her to see you, but I am against it and will tell her so. It does not matter what I say. She will still kill you. My sister cares about all of her kin you have murdered, but Isslata was not a mere soldier. She was a gift from our Dead Gods and a sign that we would be victorious against your people. She will not forgive you for Isslata’s death.”

  “I accept that. I cared for Isslata and did not wish to harm her.”

  “But you did,” Vernine said softly. “Now she is dead and our entire race will mourn for a lifetime.”

  I did not know what to say to either of them. I closed my eyes and wished the conversation could end. Sharing my story had not convinced them of my sincerity or changed their opinions of me. Perhaps they could sense what I wanted better than I could. Killing Telaxthe would fix almost everything. My entire life was death and violence. What was one more life?

  But I was weary of the bloodshed. I could not undo the destruction I had wrought, but I wanted my future free of it. I thought of Jessmei’s dream of running a farm and building a family together and it warmed my heart and made me long to hold her close to me again. I thought of Nadea’s wonderful description of living in the keep and overseeing the eastern part of Nia. The idea of spending my days with her, my nights engaged in debate and discussion with her and her father filled me with peace.

  “Our kind has been killing each other for much longer than I have been alive. I can apologize for the death I have caused, but it began before me and continued after. I never wanted to become this Destroyer. I would have been happy to stay in the stables with my father, brother, and Iolarathe. Our people have been battling since the dawn of time,” I said.

  “No. Your people have chosen to forget the truth of our past. We once lived together in peace. But you are right that the violence and death existed before you,” Vernine responded. “In the distant past, perhaps tens of thousands of years before your war with us, humans and our people coexisted and served our shared Gods.”

  “I do not believe your legends.”

  “And yet they are true whether you believe them or not. Elvens served humans. We had a closer connection to the Gods. We were created to serve you. The ancient humans called themselves the O’Baarni, and they had exponentially more power than your warriors. They challenged the Gods and we all paid the price for their hubris. Our ways were lost. Our Gods were killed. The O’Baarni were cast down from their role as masters and our people were forced to take over to protect our worlds.” Fehalda said the words without her usual venom. She looked distracted and licked her lips repeatedly while she spoke.

  “So that is how you justify the enslavement of an entire people?”

  “Oppression is always justified by the oppressors. The O’Baarni enslaved the Elvens because the Gods created us for that purpose. Farmers enslave their livestock because they believe themselves superior and deserving. Your people currently subjugate ours because of the past. The same cycle is repeated, only the roles change.” Fehalda’s voice lowered to an angry hiss and she turned north as she finished speaking.

  “Do you smell that?” she asked Vernine.

  “Yes. Human. Familiar,” the pewter-haired woman whispered. I inhaled through my own nose and caught the scent of a distant human or two, but the breeze was blowing from the southeast and the river muted most of the surrounding sounds. I didn’t think that the three of us had anything to fear, but Fehalda’s sudden caution caused me to worry.

  Vernine clicked her tongue against her lips to get my attention and she tossed me the pair of swords I had salvaged during the battle with the lizard-spiders. The women had been uncomfortable with me carrying the weapons, so I had turned them over to ease their fears. Holding the blades in my hands instantly calmed me and I almost smiled at the irony of the three of us readying weapons to fight against an unknown intruder.

  “Hooo!” a voice cried out from the other side of the water. It sounded friendly and I was tempted to return the call, but Fehalda answered instead.

  “Identify yourself,” she called out into the darkness. I could see a lighter silhouette against the darker background of the river bank.

  “We saw your campfire. Might we trouble you for directions?” I noticed half a dozen other figures emerge and wade into the river. Fehalda drew one of her swords and Vernine followed. I debated drawing my own blades but realized the effort was futile. Three of us versus even thirty humans would have been an easy victory, but these were not humans.

  They were O’Baarni.

  There were actually fourteen shapes in the water. They easily swam across the river and emerged on our side with little more than a whisper of sound.

  “Hello, Fehalda. It has been many years.” Their leader was a woman. She was tall and sinewy, with chiseled muscles underneath tawny skin that dripped smooth with the water. Her hair was a light brown with a bit of curl that was bound up over her head in a series of intricate ties laced with glass beads. Her facial features were sharp and hawk-like.

  She was beautiful, she carried an air of danger and ferocity about her that was enticing. Her eyes were an odd shade of light-blue and that along with the familiar bear tattoo on her exposed shoulder helped me guess her identity.

  Her arrival could not possibly lead to a good outcome for Telaxthe or myself.

  “Greetings, Turnia.” The empress’s sister glanced at the other O’Baarni warriors. She sheathed her sword. “It has been many years. Why have you come to this world? Have you spoken to the empress yet?” I was surprised at Fehalda’s sudden pleasantness.

  “I have come for my brother. He journeyed here at the request of one of my kinsmen, but has not returned.” Turnia stopped talking and fixed her eyes on the two Elven women. Silence seemed to echo through our tiny campground with only the crackling of our small fire and the dripping of the O’Baarni warriors to accompany the tension.

  “Well?” Turnia said when the silence was the thickest.

  “Well?” Fehalda crossed her arms over her chest. She may have intended the motion to convey confidence, but it only seemed to emphasize that all three of us were clothed only in our undergarments and the fourteen O’Baarni wore decorated leather and chain armor.

  “Have you seen Kannath?” Turnia may have been annoyed, but much like her late brother, she was adept at keeping her emotions in check.

  “There is a castle to the west if you follow this river about sixty miles. Our armies are camped
outside of the wall. She will receive you if you journey there.” Fehalda tapped her fingers on the alabaster skin of her right bicep.

  “Where is your army?” Turnia glanced around the camp site but didn’t seem to notice me standing to the side. Her other warriors were ignoring me as well, though I carried the sheathed swords in my hand.

  “They are back at the castle,” Fehalda answered and I almost winced, the reply had been a bit hasty.

  “You are one of Telaxthe’s Elites?” Turnia turned her head to Vernine and a lock of hair fell over one of her blue eyes. The powerful woman didn’t move to brush it away.

  “Yes. I am Vernine.”

  “I may have heard the name before.”

  “I am not one to pursue notoriety.” Vernine licked her lips with the tip of her tongue and glanced at the weapons the warriors carried. A few had axes, the rest had curved heavy swords, all of them had short bows.

  “Perhaps that is wise for one of your kind.” Turnia chuckled slightly and the dark husky sound was alluring and intimidating at the same time. I could easily understand how this woman came to lead her own clan.

  “So the empress’s most capable general, who also happens to be her sister, and one of her elite warriors are out in the wilderness together sixty miles from the closest army.” Turnia may have intended the sentence to be a question, but she stated it as the fact that it was. I guessed where the woman would be going next with her line of questioning, but it was probably too late for me to run.

  “Yes. We are heading back. My sister asked us to scout this country’s eastern territory.”

  “That is convenient for us then. We will accompany you. But first, I have one last question.” Turnia looked at me and her warriors mirrored her gaze. She raised her hands slowly and pointed a long finger at me from across the fire.

  “Who is this?” The woman finally smiled and her teeth shone a reflective white against the firelight.