Ruin Mist Chronicles Bundle

by Robert Stanek

Vilmos glanced to Xith again, then back down the hillside. He looked beyond the Kingdom foot soldiers to the great walled city of Quashan’. He couldn’t see the men upon the walls, though he knew they were there. They were the ones pushing back the breaching ladders and responding to the enemy’s relentless charges with catapult volleys.

  Suddenly the eagle dove from the heavens and just when it seemed it would crash into the walls of the city, it disappeared. Xith came out of his trance and said something to Captain Mikhal that Vilmos couldn’t hear. Captain Mikhal raised his sword arm high overhead, momentarily his broad-bladed sword glistened in the late morning sun, then he thrust the blade forward. The charge began. More than five hundred riders spurred their mounts into a race.

  Vilmos stood enthralled, unable to break away. The thunder of hooves blocked out the sounds of the distant battle. Galan at his side was silent. She too watched and listened. Eventually though, the thunder grew distant. The first excited shouts erupted from the enemy host and men scrambled to set up a frenzied rear defense.

  Midway down the valley’s slopes now, the Kingdom horse soldiers spurred their mounts, driving the animals as fast as they dared. Arrows from the Kingdom bowmen began to penetrate the enemy lines and soon afterward the first wave of foot soldiers struck the enemy’s rear flank. Privately, Vilmos cheered for the Kingdomers, but he was also torn between loyalties. Some of those on the field were from his homeland.

  As Vilmos watched, Sever’s Knights of the Lance, their red and white banners waving in the wind, rallied for a clash with the Kingdom riders. Instead of turning to engage them, Captain Mikhal’s horse soldiers continued directly into the enemy ranks. Even from this distance, Vilmos heard the screams of despair, agony and panic that followed.

  It is time, imparted Galan into Vilmos’ mind. We have a long walk ahead.

  Captain Mikhal’s mount reared up on its hind legs. All around the captain was the press of enemy soldiers. He removed his foot from the stirrup, kicked out an approaching soldier. The heel of his boot struck the side of the man’s skull. Abruptly the soldier stopped, his knees crumbled under his weight. Captain Mikhal didn’t pause. He turned his mount, struck down with his long blade, and like a cleaver, it hew a defender before him. Captain Mikhal continued his charge.

  Xith tried to stay close to Captain Mikhal. He defended himself as best as he could, relying largely on his magic shield while he concentrated on other matters. There was a breach midway along Quashan’s east wall and in just a few seconds as he watched, dozens of attackers had pushed their way up onto the wall. There they were carving out an ever-growing section. At the base of the wall, many more were preparing to raise breaching ladders and behind them, hundreds waited to climb to the top of the wall.

  Xith regarded Seth, the elf’s prowess in battle was awe-inspiring. In the midst of the enemy ranks, Seth had leapt from his horse, seemingly undaunted by the fact that he had been surrounded. Now, all around him lay the dead and the dying.

  “I wish I had a hundred like him,” shouted Captain Mikhal to Xith above the din of the battle.

  “I wish there were a hundred like him.” Xith pointed to the breached section of the wall. “Do you think we can reach it?”

  Captain Mikhal’s eyes went wide, apparently he hadn’t seen the breach until now. He raised his sword high, and behind him a trumpeter’s call rang out. He pointed his sword in the direction of the wall.

  “To the wall,” he shouted and charged.

  The trumpeter’s call rang out again, and while the bulk of the Kingdom forces were caught in attacks, hundreds rallied and raced after their commander.

  Xith turned his mount about and charged in Seth’s direction. Two bolts of lightning, cast first from his left hand then his right, cleared the way through the enemy ranks.

  Xith wheeled his mount in front of Seth. “Now is not your time to journey to Great-Father, Brother Seth, they have need of your skills upon the walls. Climb on!”

  Xith helped Seth onto his mount.

  “Hold on tight,” Xith said. He kicked his mount sharply.

  They raced off.

  Galan followed Seth in his thoughts, looking out through his eyes to the battlefield. She watched the green and gold of the Kingdom banners clash with the blue and black. For a time, it seemed those of the green and gold held a strategic advantage on the field, where the others held an advantage solely in numbers.

  Then she lost contact with Seth’s mind. She knew only that he was caught up in the frenzy of battle and she had been content to look down from her vantage point to the city below. The boy, Vilmos, walked silently at her side. She could sense conflicting emotions in him and a great urge to race to the field to join his master.

  When they were directly north of the city, Galan and Vilmos began the long westward circle. Here they followed the rim of the valley. The sounds of the battle were reduced to a faint din in the distance and both the attackers and defenders were reduced to tiny figures moving about on the fields around the city’s walls.

  Galan lashed out with her thoughts, Where are you, Seth?

  Galan felt Vilmos’ subconscious shiver at the sound of the voice in his mind. I am sorry, I should have directed the thoughts. I am ill accustomed to your ways, please forgive me.

  Vilmos asked, “Can you really talk across such a distance?”

  Only if Brother Seth maintains the link and as long as we do not journey too much farther away from the—

  Galan broke off as Seth’s vision filled her mind’s eye with second sight. Seth was atop the east wall. The wind was blowing in his hair, and he was looking across the basin to the battlefield. Still, the green and gold were holding their own. With the Kingdom defenders back in control of the east and south walls, they could now lend considerable aid to the Kingdom soldiers in the field. Catapults hurled rocks. Arrows from Kingdom archers rained down upon the enemy. But the enemy still held a tremendous advantage in sheer numbers. They outnumbered the Kingdom soldiers at least five to one.

  Several large columns of the enemy army had fallen back to regroup. Three lines of shield bearers, hundreds long, amassed. Behind them, bowmen, prepared to fire on the move, would provide cover, while swordsmen and pikemen waited to strike. The enemy commanders rallied them, then ordered the attack. The shield bearers, pikemen and swordsmen surged forward, a great moving wall that clashed with the first line of the Kingdom defense.

  Enemy bowmen focused on the heart of Kingdom defenses. Pikemen used the shield bearers for cover, their long-pole arms felling nearly all who came against them. Swordsmen filled in the gaps of those who fell, and again and again the enemy wall surged forward. In short order, they cut off several groups of Kingdom soldiers from the main forces and gained control of the field.

  Vilmos grabbed Galan’s hand. “Look. They march from the east!”

  Seth, to the west, the forces west of the city are on the march. They aim to come up from the south. You must find a way to bolster—

  —the forces upon the southern wall. I will pray for you and for reinforcements, sent Galan.

  Seth severed the link and turned his attention to the defenders on the wall. One of them must be in command. He watched for a moment to see who was giving the orders, but there was so much chaos it was difficult to tell. He stopped a man rushing past.

  Who leads?

  A puzzled frown crossed the man’s face. He turned and pointed, then hurried off. Seth raced off in the opposite direction.

  Do you lead? Seth asked.

  “I am Sergeant Danyel’.”

  This man was also puzzled but was too exhausted to understand why. Seth switched to spoken words. “From the west, the enemy comes. You must send reinforcements to the southern wall.”

  “There are no reinforcements. This is it. The Father must truly hate us.”

  “The enemy does not attack from the north. How many men do you have positioned there?”

  Sergeant Danyel’ wiped blood and grime from his brow. “Twenty.
No, fifteen.”

  “And you will have to bring more from the west and the east.”

  “I cannot bring any from the east, and in the west I have more wounded than able.” Sergeant Danyel’ stopped abruptly, cocked his head, then reached for his sword. “Who are you? You wear Kingdom insignia, yet—”

  There is not time to explain who I am, you must trust me, you simply must. I rode in from the east with Captain Mikhal, it was he who gave me this. Seth indicated the green and gold cloth tied around his right arm.

  Sergeant Danyel’ furrowed his brows momentarily, then grabbed one of the soldiers rushing by. “Send runners. Strip the north wall, any able-bodied men from the west wall and twenty from the east to the south wall.”

  “Sir, I go to the north wall. You know the enemy hasn’t attacked at all from the north, Chancellor Van’te expects a strike there next.”

  “That was an order! I will deal with Chancellor Van’te if need be.” Sergeant Danyel’ stumbled, and Seth had to support him or else he would have collapsed.

  The soldier held his ground, eyeing his sergeant and Seth.

  Lead me to this Chancellor Van’te and I will talk to him, Seth told the soldier, then turning back to Danyel’, he said, You must rest, you are of little use in this condition.

  “No, I will go with you. Soldier, lead the way!”

  Arrows poured down upon them like a ceaseless rain. Xith extended the radius of his magic shield to protect those around him, but could only extend its protective envelope so far. He was tired and his mind was on other things, mainly trying to pinpoint a weakness in the enemy lines through which they could escape back to the Kingdom lines.

  While they had managed to push the attackers back from the walls, the enemy had only to regroup and come again. In the end, it had cost the Kingdom forces dearly. Of the hundreds of men that had rallied and raced after their commander to the base of the wall, fewer than one hundred remained. Most were foot soldiers, a scattered few were horse soldiers. Yet, while they were cut off from their lines and trapped in a sea of the enemy, they did not relent. They were determined to keep the enemy at bay.

  Xith sat his mount beside Father Jacob and Captain Mikhal. The Kingdom commander was nearly exhausted, but remained tall in his saddle. There was defiant pride in his eyes. His soldiers guarded him with a fierceness rarely seen, and with their lives.

  Xith wheeled his mount in a tight circle, continuing his search for a weakness in the enemy lines. He knew Captain Mikhal must survive, for in him lay the power to deliver the city from the hands of the enemy. The Kingdom forces were rapidly losing momentum. Without the leadership of their commander, and more importantly the strength he lent to his men, all would soon be forever lost. The time to act was now.

  Xith’s mount whinnied and reared. Xith fought to control it, and as he struggled with the animal, a flash of color waving not far off caught his eye. He steadied the horse. He stared, squinted, his eyes went wide as he realized what he saw was a royal banner. For an instant, as the press of bodies around the King parted, Xith looked straight at King Jarom.

  Xith wasn’t the only one to see the banner. When Xith looked back to Captain Mikhal, he found that the captain had already raised his sword. Xith knew at once the captain was preparing for a direct charge against the monarch’s defenses, a charge Xith had to stop before it was too late.

  But when their commander raised his blade high, the ten remaining horse soldiers around him did likewise. Before Xith could act, Captain Mikhal dropped his sword and spurred his mount. His men followed. The foot soldiers parted to let the riders through, then took up position along the riders’ flanks.

  Xith held his ground for a moment, considering what to do. Again, he saw Vostok’s royal banner fluttering in the wind, so close, yet so far. It was a hopeless charge, Xith knew it, but he also knew he could not stop it. He followed.

  Abruptly the call of countless trumpets broke the air. Fighting on both sides broke off. Captain Mikhal and his men cut short their charge. All eyes turned southward. Poised along a ridge of the foothills was a line of horse soldiers a thousand across. The Kingdom forces began to whoop and cheer. Prince Valam and reinforcements had surely arrived.

  A second time, trumpet calls broke the air. The riders began their charge, a great black wave racing downward. The Kingdomers continued to whoop and cheer, then gradually their cries turned to murmurs of dismay, for behind this massive wave came a line of flag bearers. The banners they bore were bold red and stark white, and not Kingdom green and gold. Behind the flag bearers came long lines of foot soldiers. It was not Prince Valam at all, but the army of the Kingdom of Sever.

  Vilmos’ mouth fell open. He gawked at the red and white banners, and the force of thousands on the move to the battle around Quashan’. The Kingdom soldiers would soon be completely overwhelmed, and if there had been even the smallest of hopes for winning the battle before, it died with the arrival of the main host from Sever’s forces.

  Before he knew what he was doing, Vilmos found he was racing down the hillside.

  Vilmos, stop, called out Galan, you will only get yourself killed. We are to wait here and give instructions when reinforcements arrive.

  Vilmos paused only to turn back and regard Galan. Magic flowed through him like a tidal wave. His eyes focused with rage told her what he couldn’t say. Then he cast off the voice in his mind that told him what he didn’t want to hear and raced off.

  Worriedly, he studied the distant battlefield. King Jarom’s forces had fallen back to re-form and wait for the fresh troops. The Kingdom soldiers also regrouped, but they did not wait to attack afterward.

  Vilmos, panting and straining for breath, forced himself to maintain a breakneck pace. Behind him, Galan with her longer strides was catching up to him. Vilmos fought to stay ahead of her but couldn’t, and soon they were running side by side.

  Vilmos, what good will dying do? This is pointless.

  “I am a magic-user, just as Xith. I do what I must.”

  You are an apprentice.

  Vilmos didn’t answer, he pushed himself to race still faster. Sever’s horsemen had already clashed with what remained of Quashan’s garrison. The Kingdom soldiers fell back, tried frantically to re-form, but each time they formed a hasty shield wall it crumbled, forcing another retreat. Soon it became painfully clear that the Kingdom army was on the run.

  Only a hundred yards to go now and Vilmos would be on the flat fields surrounding Quashan’. There he could stretch out his legs, and there he was sure he would leave Galan behind. He ran to the pace of the thump-thump in his ears, which drowned out the cries of despair and anguish that the wind carried. Once on the flat fields, Vilmos stretched out his legs, lengthening his strides. As he did this, his foot caught Galan’s. Both stumbled and fell.

  Vilmos was quick to regain his feet. He screamed at Galan, “You did that on purpose!”

  Galan turned Vilmos about, so he was staring up at the valley’s rim from the direction they had just come from. He had just started to protest when he saw them, a line of horse soldiers. The banners at the fore were green and gold. Prince Valam had come. He had found Keeper Martin and those of Imtal garrison.

  Behind the horse soldiers came the foot soldiers, thousands of them, and far more than Vilmos or Galan had anticipated. Amidst the green and gold banners were banners bearing a blue circle on a field of white. Galan asked Vilmos without words and strangely with only emotions who the others were. Vilmos could only shrug. He didn’t know.

  Prince Valam, there! shouted Galan.

  “Where?”

  There! repeated Galan. She grabbed Vilmos’ hand and pulled him to a start, and he chased after her.

  Chapter Thirteen:

  Last Play

  It was now late afternoon. During the day the battle had taken many turns. The arrival of nearly ten thousand troops, Imtal soldiers and free men, had changed the tide of the battle for a time. Still, this had only made the field more even and not e
qual.

  Adrina was in the middle of relating the story of their journey and of how Keeper Martin and Captain Adylton had managed to persuade the free men of Mir and Veter to join the Kingdom’s cause. “Most are oarsmen from the free city fleet, not soldiers, though still good with a blade,” Adrina said. “Gold surely persuaded their loyalty, also a fear of losing their freedom, for after he had captured the whole of the South, King Jarom surely wouldn’t have let the Free Cities remain outside his rule.”

  “Surely we cannot just sit here,” Vilmos said. “We must do something.”

  “I aim to do something, all right.” Adrina grinned. “Tell me exactly what the lady told each of you. She did speak to each of you, right?”

  Galan and Vilmos quickly told Adrina what they remembered of the conversation, though much of it seemed a blur.

  “She spoke of choices being like the branches of trees and for right or wrong you follow one or the other, and of good and evil,” concluded Vilmos.

  Adrina asked, “Did she tell you to remember something?”

  Vilmos was pacing. Adrina knew he was growing restless. She turned to Galan, and found an unexpected expression in the elf’s eyes. “What is it Galan, what do you see?”

  Galan was staring off into the distance, her eyes were unfocussed. Seth upon the walls.

  “Really, you can see him from here?” asked Adrina.

  Galan didn’t answer. She was apparently lost in what she was seeing and Vilmos explained what little he knew of her gift, which he deemed akin to corporeal stasis.

  It is not, Galan said, it is a projecting of thoughts. I can project feelings and images too.

  “Like an image in a dream,” Adrina said.

  Galan didn’t reply—she was again distracted by what she saw.

  “Is there a way we can see as well?” Adrina asked.

  Perhaps.

  Suddenly, Adrina saw Seth standing atop the upper battlements along Quashan’s southern wall. She could feel the wind blowing through his hair and the despair ravaging his heart. Seth’s emotions flowed to Adrina, mixing with her own, and soon despair ravaged her heart as well. The enemy had breached the southern gates of the city and a wave of humanity was pouring in. Torches were being distributed and many buildings were already burning. Cries of panic rose; she heard women and children crying as they ran from the homes they fled.