One of them charged at Bekka, his crimson sword held high. With a scowl, she cleaved his sword in two and then drove her blade deep into his chest. She lifted him into the air and flung him away. On instinct, Bekka ducked another sword stroke aimed at her neck and whirled around to find another Stormer facing her. Without hesitation, her fiery sword came down with terrible force on his skull and she drove her foe's lifeless body to the deck.
Bekka then ran to help Saranna and Brakthas, who were struggling against four Stormers. An arrow--fired from the remaining warship--flew at her chest, but she deflected it on instinct with her burning blade. She never slowed, leaping straight at the black-clad warriors and cutting into them, the powerful muscles in her arms rippling as her fiery blade hacked at her foes.
Brakthas was bleeding heavily from a sword wound in his side, but he fought on, giving occasional battle cries as he struck at his foes. His bare chest was streaked with blood, and he seemed ready to collapse. But just when it appeared he could not fight on, he leapt on an enemy's back and yanked his dagger across the warrior's throat. His face was grim and terrible to behold as he shoved the lifeless body away from him. Moments later he took an arrow to the leg and went down. Galandra seized his arms and pulled him behind some crates.
Several crewmembers fell, pierced by Stormer blades and arrows. It was a disheartening sight, seeing these young servants of the Temple cut down. The two Paladins did their best to defend them, their long swords bringing down multiple Stormers, but it wasn't enough. There were too many of the invading warriors, and they were too swift and skilled to be easily stopped.
Aldreya sought to distract the archers on the warship, sending fireballs at them. The range was extreme even for her, however, and the fire did little damage by the time it arrived. However, it was enough to keep the archers scrambling for cover, and her efforts saved many lives on board the Paladin ship. She was extremely focused on her task--to the point where she seemed unable to defend herself--and the others worked to protect her from the Stormers.
Galandra continued to use her slingshot even at close range in an effort to protect both Aldreya and Brakthas. She shot another Stormer in the head who was charging Aldreya, and he dropped in his tracks.
Dallsa stood behind Aldreya, mace in hand, as a Stormer approached. Hissing vile curses at the healer, the Stormer lashed out with his blade and tore a wound in her chest. Crying out in pain, Dallsa stood her ground, but the warrior shoved her viciously aside to get to Aldreya.
Dallsa lay bleeding on the deck, her mace clutched in her hand, watching helplessly as the Stormer raised his blade for the kill. Galandra shot at him but the slug only struck his shoulder--causing him to cry out in pain but failing to stop him. Then a massive form smashed into the warrior and he went flying as if struck by a battering ram--right off the deck and into the lake.
Standing there was the nearly six-hundred pound Shenosi, his chest heaving. He roared and stomped the deck, challenging anyone to get to Aldreya. Two more warriors tried, but he blocked their swords with his shield and then hammered into them, sending them flying. He chased after one of them, and the fleeing warrior stumbled and fell. Shenosi leapt into the air, coming down on the unfortunate fellow with devastating force. Bones cracked beneath that massive weight. Galandra shot the other in the head, bringing him down. Her fingers were a blur as she loaded the slingshot again.
Saranna tried to help Dallsa, but three Stormers got to her first. She slew one of them as she backed away, piercing his heart. Then her boot encountered a pool of blood and she slipped, falling on her back. Her eyes widened in shock as the enemy blades came down--one piercing her shoulder and one piercing her chest, just missing her heart. The Stormers yanked their swords free, preparing to stab her again.
Lothrin moved to defend her, his Flayer lashing out in a blur. The strange Birlote warrior seemingly could not be stopped. His blows appeared to be driven by fury as he killed Saranna's attackers with two swift strokes.
Lothrin knelt by Saranna, his face pale.
"I think I'm...dead," she whispered. "Won't...make it. Sorry."
"You will survive," Lothrin insisted. "You must!"
"Why?" she asked. "Just want to sleep."
Lothrin shook her. "Don't give up, Saranna! I will defend you!" He rose and stood over her, vowing no one would get close.
Crondal Windsong killed three Stormers before he became too weak from blood loss to fight on. He had taken several injuries that on their own weren't life threatening, but together they served to take the fight out of him. At last he slumped to the deck and lay still, his face passive.
A Stormer tried to finish Crondal, but he encountered the wrath of Bekka Nightspear. The enraged warrior approached him as if she couldn't be defeated, confidence smoldering in her dark eyes, the divine fire blazing hot before her. Her flaming blade tore through him as if he wasn't there, and before he could fall, she knocked his dead body aside with a vicious spin kick. Bekka paused and glanced about, looking for someone else to kill. The spot on her flesh where the Ghoul had bitten her was burning hot, and the pain in her soul was feeding her rage.
***
Dallsa crawled off amongst some barrels and lay moaning in pain. The battle seemed to be going badly. Many of the crewmembers--the young Paladin Hopefuls--had been slaughtered, and a large host of Stormers was still occupying the deck. The boat was taking on water and tilting.
She watched as Shenosi stumbled past her. He was suffering from several wounds. He was still on his feet, but losing a lot of blood and clearly exhausted. There were so many who needed her help right now, but she could do nothing for them. Her own wound was serious and needed her focus.
Then Vorden moved into view, his blazing sword rising and falling. He seized an enemy's throat with one hand and burned into it, then cast the lifeless body aside. His blade was so hot with crimson fire it was almost blinding. He looked unstoppable for a moment in his gold-and-black armor, but then four agile Stormers swarmed on him. They managed to remove his helm, then bashed him in the head with a club. He slumped to the deck and stopped moving. Dallsa groaned as they struck him again, before Daledus charged them with his axe and scattered them.
Overcome by battle lust (and ignoring a broken arrow lodged in his arm) the Dwarf chased them down, tearing into them with his massive axe. He punched another foe in the jaw, knocking out some teeth and sending the man crashing into some barrels.
"Come get some more!" he bellowed.
And on it went.
The moments drifted past. Dallsa slipped in and out of consciousness, barely aware of time's passage. She had no idea if her friends were winning or losing, or if any of the injured had succumbed to their wounds and died.
Then, as she looked on in fear, one of the Stormers spotted her and approached. He was bleeding from wounds to the thigh and stomach and was moving slowly, but his eyes promised death. He paused before her, raising his blade.
No one else was near them at the moment.
"I'm going to savor this," he said. He grinned at her. "Cold steel--right through your beating heart. Filthy wretch of Dremlock!"
Summoning the last of her strength, Dallsa swung her mace, striking his leg. It was a weak blow, but all she could deliver.
With a groan, he rubbed his bruised thigh. "Oh, that hurt!" He tore the mace from her hand and threw it aside. Again, he raised his blade for the kill. "Now I'm really going to enjoy this."
Then a hand fell on the warrior's shoulder, and he was flung off the ship into the lake. Standing before Dallsa was Lannon Sunshield.
She gazed up at him in relief. "You finally made it. Just when I'd about given up hope. I'd give you a hug, but I can't get up."
"Just rest," he said, gazing down at her with concern. "Get yourself healed up. This battle is over. The warships are leaving. By the time I got here, Bellis was already in full retreat."
"Thank the Divine Essence," she said, before passing out.
Chapter 18:
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br /> The Quiet Waters at Dusk
The battle was indeed over. The invaders had been killed or forced to flee in their rowboats. Both warships were retreating swiftly into the distance. Though the White Flamestone remained missing--possibly lost forever beneath Legend Lake-- Lannon's presence was enough to persuade Ethella to abandon the fight. Her army had suffered heavy casualties, and though her best fighters--including the Guardians and Thallites--remained intact on her ship, she apparently wasn't willing to send them against the Knights.
But another desperate battle remained. The Golden Promise had taken on a lot of water and was in significant danger of sinking. With a colossal effort, however, they managed to stabilize the ship and crudely repair the damage in less than an hour. Once again the vessel sat upright on the waves.
But fixing the damage to the warriors was not as easy. Dallsa was able to quickly deal with her own injuries, but Brakthas, Saranna, and three of the five surviving crewmen were near death. Shenosi was suffering from multiple wounds but not in immediate danger, and he wouldn't allow anyone to treat him. Jace was able to administer enough healing to keep the severely wounded alive, but without Dallsa's skill the sorcerer doubted they would last the night. Saranna was so close to death it seemed miraculous that she was still breathing.
The dead were wrapped in cloth and laid out on the deck, awaiting a watery burial. Not far from the bodies lay the wounded (including some enemy soldiers), moaning in pain. Before Dallsa could recover enough to help them, two of the wounded crewmen died. That left three survivors out of fourteen crewmen. Eleven young hopefuls, men and women eager to serve the Temple and become Paladins, had lost their lives. It was a terrible price that left everyone in despair, but there was nothing to be done about it.
The Paladins and Galandra prayed over the dead, and then Aldreya spoke some words concerning their heroism: "May the Divine Essence bless their souls and guide them to eternal peace."
A moment of silence was then held.
Troubled, Lannon watched the funeral proceedings. He wanted to do something to take back all the damage and loss that had occurred, but it was impossible. He chastised himself for arriving so late to the battle.
Bekka, Jerret, and Daledus stood with their arms on each other's shoulders, heads bowed--showing support for the fallen warriors. The three stout fighters had done a lot of damage to Bellis' forces, but they hadn't been able to save these young men and women and it gnawed at them.
"Now we must release them to the water," said Aldreya.
The bodies were stacked in a rowboat and set adrift on the waves. Then Aldreya hurled a huge fireball from her stone dagger into the boat. Green flames erupted, consuming everything and burning it to ash upon the water.
"It is done," said Theradaxa, her eyes full of sorrow. "The Temple has suffered a great loss this day, but we will endure."
Lannon watched the green flames burn away, taking the lifeless bodies with them. Everything became ash--their plans, hopes, fears, and struggles of life, gone in an instant. This was the way of eternity, and Lannon understood that but was still deeply troubled by it. As a Divine Knight, he should have accepted the workings of life and death, but a stubborn part of him remained that didn't know how to give up. He always held out hope that things could be set right.
Lannon watched the ashes drift away on the waves.
But the funeral proceedings were not yet over. There were dead enemies that needed to be dealt with. The Paladins and Galandra prayed over them as well, but Aldreya did not speak this time--though she did participate in a moment of silence. Their bodies were also sent out in a rowboat and burned.
At last Dallsa was strong enough to assist the others, and she immediately went to Saranna. Her steps were slow and she looked like she might fall, so Bekka helped her along. She knelt and placed hands on the Ranger's chest.
"Is she dead?" asked Lothrin, looking grim. He had not left Saranna's side since she had fallen. He had fought viciously to protect her.
"Not yet," said Dallsa. "But very close." She glanced up. "She has become a good friend to you, I see."
Lothrin nodded. "I have developed...feelings for her."
The others looked surprised. Aldreya gazed at Lothrin with concern. Lannon expected Aldreya to lecture Lothrin about forbidden relationships, but the Green Knight said nothing. Apparently the mood was too somber even for a lecture from Aldreya.
Looking embarrassed, Lothrin added, "It is merely friendship. I would never violate the Sacred Laws, of course."
Dallsa was still quite weak, but somehow she was able to bring Saranna back from the very brink of death. Dallsa's eyes smoldered with determination as she administered the healing. She was fighting a battle just as intense as any that had been fought that day.
Excitement soon appeared on her face. "Saranna is growing stronger. The energy has filled the wound near her heart, and she has responded well. I am certain she is going to fully recover."
Dallsa then went to work on the others. She was clearly in great pain and exhausted, but she refused to take a rest. By the time she was finished, she collapsed from the strain. Lannon caught her and laid her on the deck.
He smiled down at her, filled with admiration for her courage.
"They're all going to make it," she said, managing a smile of her own. "Even those enemy soldiers, minus a few limbs. If nobody minds, I'm going to sleep now." Dallsa had pushed herself to the limit.
"You've earned it," said Lannon. He brought her a blanket and laid it over her. If his life had been different, he would have married her. But there was simply no violating the Sacred Laws. Yet their friendship was deep and that was enough for Lannon. His Knighthood was more important to him than love or marriage. He lived to serve his god and kingdom and nothing would change his thinking. He knew that with certainty, but he also knew Dallsa didn't feel the same way. He suspected she would have given up Knighthood just to be with him.
"The Rangers can tend to them now," Dallsa said. "Bandages will need to be changed...and so on." Her eyelids fluttered closed.
"Sleep well," Lannon said gently.
Prince Vannas, who had been standing by the ship's rail watching the sun slip below the horizon, turned and approached. He looked like a zombie, all the will drained out of him. He gazed pleadingly at Jace.
"Are you certain it's gone?"
Jace sighed in frustration. "Yes, yes, and yes again. The Flamestone is not in the water. I searched for it over and over." He rubbed his shoulder. "I took an arrow while searching. It was quite painful."
"You checked the dead Vulture thoroughly?" Vannas asked.
Jace groaned. "As thoroughly as can be, short of cutting the beast open and examining its reeking innards to see if it swallowed it. Its claws were empty. I checked all three dead beasts, in fact, on the chance that I might have confused one for another. As much as it disturbs me to say it, I assure you the Flamestone has sunk. It is at the bottom of the lake."
Prince Vannas turned away in bitterness, his head bowed and his hands knotted into fists. Then he approached Lannon and seized his cloak. "You must search again, Dark Watchman. Just one more time!"
Lannon had already scanned for it once, but he did so again just to appease the prince. He walked around the ship, slowly moving the Eye of Divinity over the water. There was simply no trace of the White Flamestone.
At last he turned to Vannas and shook his head.
"Then all hope is lost," said Vannas, his legs sagging beneath him. "My destiny has been lost. And there is no longer a reason for me to be here. I might as well return to Borenthia and hide away until the end of my days."
"Don't be ridiculous," said Aldreya. "We need the Green Flamestone more than ever now. You could be the one to wield it."
The prince shook his head. "It may not even exist on that island, or if it does, we may never find it. The hungry sea might swallow us. How will we survive the quest? It's over...everything. King Verlamer has won."
"Calm yourse
lf," said Aldreya. "Let's think this through."
"Bellis is sure to return," said Jace. I don't know how many warships they have at Wolfbine, but we could certainly be attacked again before we exit this lake. Especially when we lack our greatest weapon."
"Curse me!" said Prince Vannas, sounding terribly bitter. "Curse me to the deepest pit of Tharnin! How could I once again let down my guard and lose my grip on the Flamestone? I feel like an utter fool."
"We were being bombarded," said Aldreya. "There was a lot of confusion. These things happen. Now we must decide how to proceed."
***
Bekka Nightspear stood apart from the others, watching the sunset. The sky was splashed with crimson--like the blood that had splashed the deck of The Golden Promise. The burning desire for combat lingered within her. She hadn't wanted the battle to end, and part of her still wished it was going on. She wasn't satisfied with the amount of damage she had inflicted upon her foes. Ethella--a Priestess of Tharnin--had escaped without a scratch, and that was intolerable. This arrogant queen of evil would have to be hunted down and slain. Bekka envisioned her sword ripping into Ethella, and a feeling of satisfaction settled over her.
What was she becoming?
That question passed through Bekka's mind again and again. Clearly it was her bitterness that was fueling her rage, but how could she stop it? What if she went too far and lost herself forever? She searched her soul, but sensed no loss of control. She wondered if she was simply being paranoid.
So she had developed a temper. What was so wrong with that? Daledus had a temper--a particularly foul one at times--and so did Jerret. Why should she fear her rage when all it had done was make her a better fighter? It was obviously a great asset to her, as it drove her to constantly improve. Of course, it also gave rise to bloodlust, which troubled her. Being angry was one thing, but wanting to shed the blood of her foes was another. Craving bloodshed had never been her way, prior to suffering the Ghoul's bite. She had changed on the deepest levels.
Knights: Legends of Ollanhar Page 28
