War. Time is of the essence. “You lead the wagon the rest of the way into the valley. Tell them to haul ass!” Flustered, Isabella turned her horse. “I’m going ahead to see Zoe. Meet me there!”
“Got it!” Smiling, Ruby headed back to the wagon. The Men of Dawn fortified the valley. Trained and prepared, Larrosan militia were prepared for battle. With Tairrie, Zoe and a Terrifos fighting to defend Lorewell, no army could take the city. “The Scarlet Blades. They’re about to get their arses kicked.”
With Isabella at her side, Zoe entered Lord Master Baardsen’s Command Tent. A chaotic environment. Captains issued orders to their subordinates. Generals argued over tactics. Opinions clashed. Tempers raged. Voices harsh. Lieutenant Strand ushered Zoe and Isabella into Baardsen’s room. Concerned by the intensity and tension, the pair exchanged addled glances as they stepped through the doorway.
“What’s going on, Baardsen? There’s an unusual amount of stress in your war room over this coming battle.” Zoe stood beside his table.
“Yeah, and for good reason.” Baardsen rose from his chair. “There’s twenty thousand Vaneshian soldiers marching towards us. They will be here by nightfall.”
“Vaneshian soldiers?”
“Did you know about this, Zoe?” He stepped towards her. “Did you lie to me about the Scarlet Blades.”
“No.” Zoe thought back to Kasbin’s premonition. A marching army. Their assumption to its identity had been wrong. “It seems I have more enemies than I realised.”
“We all have more enemies than we realise. None more so than Engalia.” Ken leant against his table. “Long has King Ellory dreamed of conquering this land. This is an opportune moment for him to strike. Since the Surangi have taken rule of Floreska and disbanded the Engalian army, the Vaneshians are making their move. If they capture Lorewell, they’ll secure a foothold in our lands. This is beginning of a massive invasion. Soon, Engalia will be no more.”
Isabella’s shoulders slumped. Twenty thousand Vaneshians. “We’re outnumbered. We’re horribly outnumbered.”
“Should we evacuate the women and children? Get them out of the valley?” Zoe, all too familiar with the cruelty of men, feared for the helpless if the defences were to fall.
“Definitely not.” Ken saw disbelief in Zoe’s eyes. “Their escape would be slow and if they are captured, the Vaneshians could use them as hostages to force your warriors to surrender. If they remain here, the men will fight more fiercely knowing their families lives rest in their hands. Love gives man strength that greed and glory cannot.”
If the hour of desperation were to arise, Zoe knew she would sacrifice everything to save the lives of the people. ‘The feathers of my wings will be scattered… Kasbin’s dream will come true. I’m going to die in this war.’
“Zoe, you said you had allies within the Surangi?” Impressed with the Surangi’s exploits in Sapphiron, Ken hoped that perhaps the foreign warriors could be trusted and called upon to aid them in this hour of need.
“I do, yes.”
“We need allies. If we send out a rider, do you think the Surangi will come?”
“They might, but they won’t make it in time,” Zoe sighed. “Their closest outpost is two days ride from here.”
“So, reinforcements would take three to four days then.” Ken pulled a sheet free of a stand, revealing his imposing suit of armour. Fondly, he gripped the shoulder spaulder. “Mercenaries are hired by the desperate to help win battles against incredible odds.” Scratches and dents marred the chest plate. “We are the Men of Dawn. My soldiers are trained for this. We will hold the valley until the Surangi arrive.”
His words gave Zoe confidence. “I’ll send out a rider immediately. Isabella will organise the Larrosan militia and have them join your forces.”
“We can do this, Zoe.” Ken’s mindset was one of conviction and determination. The defences were solid. The spiked barricades should hold. If the men fight hard as a unit, they will live to see the dawn. He turned to Isabella. “Once you’ve finished your preparations, come join me on the battlefield. I look forward to fighting alongside you.”
As Isabella crossed the encampment, she watched the Men of Dawn march in tactical units, their commanders in front bellowing war chants. Steadfast, placid, the soldiers displayed no fear of the massive army which would soon crash upon them as a wave of death.
An eagerness for glory grew within Isabella. This was set to be one of the greatest and most important battles in Larrosan history. It possessed all the elements of a classic tale. A meagre force, led by heroic warriors in a desperate battle against incredible odds, fighting to hold out until reinforcements arrive to fell the enemy. One day, bards would enthral crowds with romantic ballads of the Larrosan victory. Statues to honour the brave heroes would be erected within the city. Isabella saw an image of herself, carved in stone, standing tall in town square.
“If I ask Tairrie, do you think she’ll fight in my regiment?” Isabella was excited by the thought of fighting alongside the mage.
“Sorry, Isabella. Tairrie’s wounds are severe. She won’t be able to help us. It’ll probably be a few more days before she’s even able to walk.”
“Oh,” Isabella sighed. A shadow marred her face then quickly disappeared. “What about Crystal? She’ll be fighting with us? Won’t she?” Tairrie may be out of action, but Isabella was certain the Surangi warrior wouldn’t let them down.
“I doubt it.” Zoe shared Isabella’s disappointment. Two of the mightiest warriors in Sapphiron were in the valley yet neither would be aiding in Lorewell’s defence.
“That’s a shame. I was hoping they’d fight with us.”
“Me too, Bella. Me too.”
Chapter 20
Night waxed. Bonfires raged. The defensive line was quiet save for the crackling of wood and soft shuffling of men as they stood waiting for the onslaught to begin.
Rhythmic drums and the sounds of marching feet bellowed from the ridge, echoing throughout the valley. Fearful citizens took shelter within their homes, praying to the goddess for safety and salvation.
Flaming torches lit up the ridge as Vaneshian soldiers amassed. Standing on the edge of the cliff, they looked down with scorn upon the pitiful defences. Their army vast, the Vaneshians would overwhelm the barricades with a deluge of blades. Drums beat faster. Soldiers pounded against their shields until after a final climax, they fell silent.
“A dramatic bunch, aren’t they?” Baardsen’s gaze was fierce. “Isabella, those drums will dictate the enemy’s movements throughout the battle. Take note of the rhythm and how the offensive changes with it. Try to anticipate and adapt to each situation as the battle moves forwards.”
“I’ll do my best.” Drums, a clever way to control an army fighting in darkness. Clever, yes, but also predictable. This method also allowed the enemy to know when tactics change. This though, could be used as a ruse to confuse and misguide. Isabella knew she would have to remain vigilant and quick-witted in leading her forces.
“Lord Master!” Jamie saluted his superior.
“What is it, soldier?”
“Ser, a scouting party has detected a force of Vaneshian soldiers using ropes to scale the cliffs to the north.”
“Sneaky buggers think they’re going to catch us off guard, do they? Tell Commander Phillips I want him to take his unit, dismantle the ambush and remain in the area to quell any repeat attempts by the enemy.”
“Right away, Ser!”
“Do you think that’s wise, My Lord?” Commander Falker approached. “Phillips commands almost a quarter of our troops. That’s a lot of men for you to remove from the battle. We may need our full strength to beat back the enemy’s vanguard.”
“I agree, it is a lot of men but we can’t afford a rear ambush and there’s no telling the size of the force the Vaneshians are sending over the cliff. We don’t have many options, Falker. If the battle turns against us, I’ll recall Phillips.”
“I guess it can’t b
e helped,” Falker looked to the torches upon the ridge. Gripping his battleaxe, the veteran commander reminded himself of his past glories, refusing to let the stifling army crush his resolve. “We’re in for a long night.”
“That we are, old friend.”
Commotion amongst the ranks behind drew the Lord Master’s attention. The men were nudging each other and speaking with grins. The soldiers stepped aside, fists on their chests as the Lady of Lorewell made her way towards Baardsen. Griz’mar walked on her left and to her right, Crystal Terrifos.
Isabella straightened. “She came,” excited disbelief in her voice.
“Baardsen,” nodded Zoe.
“My Lady,” he bowed and turned to Crystal. “You must be Crystal, the Surangi warrior I’ve heard so much about. I’m glad to have you with us.”
“Zoe told me it was my sister, Akella, who helped reclaim the valley for her. I can’t let these Vaneshians take it away now, can I?”
“Definitely not.”
Drums beat. The passage into the valley glowed as soldiers began their descent.
“Looks like it’s begun.” Zoe turned to Isabella, who drew her sword and shouted orders to her men. The Larrosan force hurried into position.
Baardsen strained his ears. Masked behind the sounds of drums and marching was the heaving of men and grinding of heavy, wooden wheels. “No, it couldn’t be.” His fears were realised as towering war machines appeared on the ridge. Protected deep within Farrador Gorge, Howlstone was relatively safe from siege engines. Baardsen had not considered the ranged weapons while planning Lorewell’s defence, doubting the Scarlet Blades to be in possession of such equipment. The Vaneshian army however, were armed for decisive conquest. Ken shook with fury and anguish. The barricades must be abandoned lest his entire force be obliterated. The war, lost before it had even begun. “Trebuchets! Sound the retreat!”
Retreat? “Ser?” The Herald of Arms couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Do it!” Ken raged. “Sound the retreat before everyone is killed!”
Loud and deep, the horn bellowed within the barricades. At first, the Men of Dawn hesitated, exchanging confused glances. Surely the herald had made a mistake, blown the wrong tune.
Enormous cogs turned. Counter weights dropped. Wooden monstrosities shook. Thrown by unyielding slings, flaming barrels lit up the sky.
Again, the horn bellowed. Soldiers fled as fire rained upon them. Slamming into the ground, barrels exploded. Oil ignited. Wooden barricades were set ablaze. Consumed in flame, men collapsed. Their burning corpses bringing terror to those desperately trying to escape the firestorm. The defences, obliterated.
Flames reached for the heights as plumes of smoke swirled into the night. The valley aglow with destruction. Amid the chaos, Zoe found Isabella stumbling along, burdened by the weight of a wounded comrade.
“Bella!” Zoe rushed to her.
Isabella slunk. Blood flowed down her leg from a grievous wound on her thigh. Flesh torn savagely by a falling wooden spike. “Help me with her, Zoe!” Reeling in pain and gasping for breath, Dealia nursed severe burns.
“There’s a field tent not far,” Zoe cradled Dealia in her arms. “Come on!” As they rushed through the smoky haze, horns blew. Baardsen rallied his soldiers. The Men of Dawn formed a shield wall. Taking command of the Larrosan force, Ruby bolstered Baardsen’s line with her men. This was to be it. The final stand before the Vaneshians swarmed into Lorewell.
The ground trembled. Analetta shook. Tairrie sat up in bed. Windows illuminated by fires in the night. She wondered how the battle was fairing. Aching legs restricting her from being able to walk. “Emily, can you help me for a moment, please?”
“Of course, Tairrie,” Emily came to the bedside. “what do you need?”
“Help me onto the balcony, would you?”
“Easy does it, now.” Emily braced Tairrie as she stood, bearing her weight as they slowly made their way to the balcony.
Even from this distance, the air was pungent with smoke. Tairrie gripped the railing as Emily helped lower her into a seat.
“Thank you, Emily.”
The pair sat together in silence, watching with horror as fire raged on the horizon. They could not make out what the projectiles being hurled from the ridge were, only that they were being used with devastating effect.
Emily’s hands trembled. Tairrie put her arm around the frightened woman. “It’ll be alright, Emily. Put your faith in Zoe.”
“You’re right,” Emily clasped her hands together. “Our Lady will protect us.”
Composed, Crystal stood, holding her ground amongst the raging fires. Griz’mar at her side. She alone, remained. Forgotten during the mayhem. Flaming barrels crashed around her. This was to be her circle of death. Not a single Vaneshian soldier would pass. Under her protection, Lorewell would not fall.
Torches reached the entrance to the valley. Crystal stretched. Relaxed her shoulders. She walked forwards. The walk became a jog and as her speed increased, she ran screaming towards the enemy.
A lone barrel soared. Wind pressure ruffling its flames. Crystal saw it as it fell. Shielded her face from the blast. Bathed in oil, she caught alight. Gripped in searing pain, Crystal collapsed to her knees.
“No!” Crystal rolled in the dirt. The oil refused to be extinguished. Scrambling to her feet, she took a few steps before the intense agony of her wounds brought her down.
Defeated again. Frustration consumed her. Soul awash with fury. Helplessness. Inadequate and pathetic, Crystal gave herself to misery. ‘All the strength I have means nothing! I have phoenix blood, yet here I am, defeated by the flames that grant me eternal life! When I awaken, Lorewell will be destroyed. Everyone will be dead. I wasn’t able to do a single thing!’
A soothing, feminine hand caressed her cheek. There was familiarity to her touch. A warmth Crystal knew, but could not place. Moving under her chin, the stranger bade Crystal to raise her head.
“Don’t burden your soul with such sadness, Goddess. I cannot stand to see your tears any longer.”
Speechless, enthralled by the woman’s beauty, Crystal’s heart beat with love. She knew those golden eyes. Their stunning gaze had pierced her many times. Untamed wild-orange hair flowed over the woman’s shoulders. Adorned in a magical golden necklace with sparkling jewels and glowing rings, her appearance angelic.
Crystal stood. The fire-stained dirt of the battleground gone, replaced with shimmering emerald. Stars and cosmic anomalies surrounded her. This was not Lorewell. Crystal was upon a comet, drifting slowly through the vast enormity of space.
“How did I come to this place?”
“Goddess, this is your home.” A smile upon her face as the woman held out her hands and spun. Dress twirling as she moved.
“My home?”
“You’ve forgotten again, haven’t you?”
“Apparently so.”
“This is the universe of your soul. It is beautiful! I’m am so blessed to share this with you. You, who chose me above all others! Some Feluna are plucked by Arcane Knights whose souls are no larger than a room. They spend eternity trapped within such restrictive confines, forever unable to reach their full potential. But you brought me here!” Her eyes swelled with tears of joy. “In this universe, I am limitless! I am free!”
“This is my soul?”
“The depth of your soul, yes.” The woman held Crystal’s hands. “You came here without my calling, which means you are ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“For our union. We will become entwined with each other. The first Arcane Knight and Feluna to walk as one on Elissia.”
The fires within the shrine of judgement rose to the forefront of Crystal’s mind. Fe’anorr’s words resonated from the depths of her memory. ‘Should your soul ever truly awaken, your bond with Selene will be complete and the powers that I have as a god will be known to you.’
“Selene,” Crystal embraced her.
“You do
remember me.” Leaning in, soft lips came together.
In an explosion of light, Selene transformed into a glorious phoenix. Swooping forwards, she dove into Crystal’s chest. A fiery shockwave surged across the universe of Crystal’s soul as the pair vanished.
Inundated with wounded, the healers worked frantically to save lives. The injured who were still able to walk were sent to seek aid within Lorewell, for the field tent was already at capacity.
Bandages, soaked in water and medicinal herbs covered Dealia’s burns. Isabella placed a leather-bound piece of wood in Dealia’s mouth and bade her bite down as melted clothing and broken shards were removed from her skin. Dealia endured the pain, gripping tightly to the stretcher’s metal frame.
“Go, Zoe!” Isabella waved towards the door. “I’ve got this. They need you out there!”
“You’re right,” Zoe stood. The defences lay in shambles. Charred corpses strewn across the smouldering barricades. Desperation was upon them. “Once you’ve stabilised Dealia, get back to Analetta, Isabella. Hold the last garrison for as long as you can.”
Death lingered in Zoe’s eyes. It broke Isabella’s heart. She nodded. “I’ll hold Analetta, or die trying.”
Explosions ceased. War machines lay dormant. All was quiet upon the ridge. Soldiers continued their march down the spiralling passage. The melee soon to begin.
Zoe stepped beside Baardsen. They exchanged solemn glances. Firelight reflected off the enemy’s armour as the vanguard approached. Drums pounded. War.
Wind picked up. Fire swirled. A spherical ball appeared above the smouldering ruins, drawing into itself both fire and wind alike. Swelling to an enormous size, the sphere cracked and broke as tremendous wings of fire broke free. Flames erupted as a colossal phoenix took shape above the vanguard. In the centre of the phoenix was a being made of pure light. With a wave of their arm, the being of light dispersed the phoenix causing a cataclysmic event which eradicated the vanguard and sent waves of fire over the ridge, scorching the greatest portion of the Vaneshian army who fell as ash within their blackened armour.
Misanthropy (Born of the Phoenix Book 2) Page 21
