by Randi Darren
Thera and Elysia’s sudden attention was like a physical slap to his forehead.
Elven hearing was no joke.
Letting out a small sigh, Vince turned and faced to the east. Everyone kept pushing him to claim the Elves.
Claiming the Dryads was one thing, but the Elves were an entirely different matter. He’d bought them, and they’d sworn to him under false pretenses. Thinking it would get them better treatment.
No. He’d not be claiming them.
Frit’s shaggy head turned one way, then the other. He took a deep snuff of the air. “Lord. Humans near. Horses near.”
“What?” Vince asked, his eyes scouring the landscape. He pushed his limits and senses. He demanded to know where these horses were.
There.
He hadn’t noticed them. They were blended into the backdrop of the distant woods and were motionless. To his eyes, he could count at least two hundred horsemen.
“Confirmed,” Vince said, the word tasting like ash in his mouth. “Two hundred, give or take. In the tree line. Damn it. Send a runner back, we’ll need spears.”
Frit barked at one of his men and a Wolfman sprinted off.
“Elysia, how much can you do with that big dose of magic we put in you?”
“My liege, I can slay many. The problem, though, is that I sense someone in their midst who can counter me. I hadn’t noticed it until you pointed them out. I apologize for my failure.”
“Fuck that. Can you overwhelm them?”
“Yes, my liege. But it would take time.”
“Okay. Make passive traps, then, things that they can’t counter, and make sure they don’t throw anything back at us.”
Vince thought on that for a moment. “Can you heal wounds at all?”
“Not well, but with this surplus, even I can mend flesh.”
“Frit, Henry, bring the wounded here. Faster, the better. Elysia is going to be our medic. Daphne, would the trees stop me from handing out too much? If they felt it wouldn’t be wise?”
“Immediately, dearest. They want what’s best for all of us, but they must protect their lives first.”
Without looking away from the distant enemy, Vince reached up and laid his hand on Elysia’s chest again. “Forgive me, Elysia. But you need to tell me the limit of what you can handle. We need you at the level of an Elven goddess.”
Vince opened up the flow into her again, turning his head to face her. He didn’t control it at first, and let that massive tidal wave flow right into her.
Elysia squealed, her hands balling up into fists, but she kept herself upright. She stared into his eyes as magic roiled through her.
“More, my liege,” she grunted, her blue eyes sparking with lightning.
Vince prodded the trees to push more. Faster.
“More,” came the response, the static of electricity coloring the single word.
Chapter 28
Vince was watching when both groups fell in together and set off for his position. They were coordinated to a degree.
He’d gotten lucky this time. They’d underestimated what they’d need to take the east side and overestimated the west side.
Had this been more of the merc company, he’d have been in serious trouble.
Elysia stood on one side of him, Daphne the other.
In front of him was a smoldering Thera. Her entire body was shuddering under the onslaught of magic he was unleashing in her. Steam was actually rising from her head. She stood there, panting, gasping, fighting to remain upright as he filled her. She’d subjected herself to a faster flow than what Elysia had been able to handle.
There was no time left.
“Elysia, grab your sister,” Vince said, and then brought the flow down to a trickle.
The High Elf was there instantly, supporting the Dark Elf. Vince ended the flow completely and removed his hand from Thera’s chest.
“Lord. So much power,” Thera said through chattering teeth.
“You did better than Daphne did. Remember? She fainted the first time.”
Daphne snorted at that.
Vince looked back out to the rapidly approaching enemy.
Then he saw who this enemy was.
Al. Al and everyone he’d broken out of the north with.
But why? It doesn’t make any sense.
Vince thought on that, his thoughts chasing it round and round. Thera was rapidly recovering, probably using some of that energy to repair whatever damage the transfer had caused.
Then it hit him.
If he was dead, he couldn’t be present to give evidence of Al’s culpability in the events up north.
Frit and Henry had reorganized their lines when the spears arrived, with Bearmen and Hobgoblins being in the front row, Wolfmen and Orcs in the second, and the Dwarves taking the third row.
The spears in front would take the bulk of a charge, and normal doctrine would have a horse charge before a rabble of infantry hit. He imagined they’d try to punch a hole in his defense and then split it.
A lightning bolt from the clear sky appeared above them. It was met in midair by… nothing. It simply ceased to be. There wasn’t even the crack of thunder. It was just gone.
Then another lightning bolt flashed above the enemy line. Then another, and a third, then a fourth.
Each one was met and vanished.
Looking to Elysia, he found the High Elf standing with her hand up. A small smile had blossomed on her face. “I almost had them. They’re strong. I think there might be four of them. I’ll show them the strength of my liege.”
Lightning bolts began falling uninterrupted onto the enemy ranks, one after another.
Each was invisibly countered. Until it suddenly wasn’t.
Three lightning strikes blasted into the enemy line, the thunderclap deafening. Men, women, and horses went down and dirt sprayed up from the strikes.
Then the bolts were being countered again.
Elysia growled, grinning with her teeth. “I got one.”
Vince watched as the cavalry separated from the men on foot, distancing themselves. Al was in the middle of that cavalry charge somewhere.
“Spears up!” Vince called.
The cavalry had nowhere to go but straight into Vince. There’d be no wheeling around, no disengage. It was here and here alone.
“Light the bulwark,” Vince called out.
Two balls of fire, having formed from the center of Elysia’s hand, launched out and hit the dried stakes. One fireball for each side of the gap, and suddenly the wood was a raging inferno.
The cavalry was committed; the infantry would be forced to follow.
A roar came up from the lines of his men in front of him. The cavalry roared back. Then everything was screaming horses and men being flung from saddles. Spears splintering, the crash of weapons.
His much smaller force did the impossible. They held the line. Here and there, horses and men broke through the line. Too many jammed into one spot had created fractures, though they sealed quickly.
Thera hadn’t waited for instructions. She was a blur of death, flickering into the line and taking any who came in her range and spitting them on her sword.
Vince played bodyguard for Elysia as she simultaneously fended off magical attacks and healed those who were brought before her.
Daphne stayed at his side, her staff held like a spear and ready for anyone to come close.
Ratfolk, now being able to go about their business, jumped free of their hosts and began an ugly task—killing all those who fell to the grass in that charge. Then they started working on thighs, knees, and calves of horse and man alike.
They used the corpses of the fallen humans as bunkers and worked their spears deftly, killing in concert with their larger counterparts.
Swords were drawn as the spears were no longer necessary.
The battle became a slog between cavalry with nowhere to go, infantry pressing into them from behind, and Vince’s line holding their own.
> A Hobgoblin went down in a spray of blood, followed quickly by an Orc. In the center of his line, something was going wrong.
Both the Hobgoblin and Orc were dragged from the line and passed backwards rapidly to Elysia.
Vince chose to act and began shouldering his way to the front.
“Dearest, no!” Daphne called out, unable to keep up with him.
Scooping up the shield of the Hobgoblin, Vince pushed into the front. Dwarves continued to work hurriedly to retrieve the wounded behind him as Vince personally plugged the hole.
Vince found the problem. An Elf. Vince didn’t care what sub-race he was, or even what he was doing here. Only that he had to go before he did more damage to his people.
Stabbing out with his saber, Vince forced the Elf to back up. To Vince’s left and right, the shield wall held.
The Elf leapt forward, fast as could be. Vince deflected the strike and returned another stab.
Caught off guard, the Elf hadn’t expected his strike to be blocked. Vince’s saber caught him low in the hip and slid off.
The Elf stared death at him even as he reevaluated his position.
Vince could swear he saw the exact moment the Elf decided to back up and try somewhere else in the line. It was the same moment Vince decided the Elf had to die.
Pulling on his trees, Vince slid forward two steps and lashed out with his saber in an overhead horizontal swipe.
Fast as the Elf was, he didn’t even see it coming. The blade separated his head from his neck, and the left foreleg of a horse.
Stepping backward, Vince slipped in the field and fell heavily on his backside.
A sword leapt into the space his shield had been and skewered his hand.
Screaming in pain, Vince lashed out with his saber.
His shield didn’t feel right in his hand as Vince clambered upright. The shield wouldn’t move exactly as he wanted it to.
He managed to get it around in time to block an overhead chop from a woodsman’s ax.
Except that when Vince tried to bring the shield back in, he couldn’t get it up. He couldn’t hold the shield up, and his hand wouldn’t close tight enough to hold it firm.
He’d made it back to the line, but his shield was worthless. A faceless cavalryman with a sword realized it at about the same time Vince did.
The soldier was pushing his sword forward in an ugly stab that would skewer Vince. Struggling to get his saber around for a deflection, Vince realized he wouldn’t make it in time.
Even with the speed and strength offered to him by his trees, it wouldn’t be enough.
Then Daphne was there, shoving him deeper into the line as she spun forward with her staff. The Dryad glowed with an earthy green aura as she bulldozed into the cavalry man.
Smashing into the man’s face, the staff rebounded backwards, and Daphne brought it back around in the other direction to club a second man down.
With a flick of her wrist, her staff came backwards towards a third, then down and around towards a fourth.
A spear exploded out of her stomach as it was driven through her back. The shaft snapped off when Daphne completed her next turn.
Her feet tripped over themselves and she stumbled forward into the press of the front line. Then she disappeared under the mass of boots and feet.
“Daphne!” Vince screamed, trying to get forward into the line again.
He was violently shoved back, then pulled backwards as everyone realized who he was, and that he had no business in the line.
Coming free of the press of the line with a suddenness that was jarring, Vince collapsed on his backside.
“My liege!” Elysia was there, pulling the shield from his arm as Thera disarmed him of his saber.
Vince looked from Elysia to Thera. “Daphne’s in there, we need to get to her.”
Thera looked back to the press of bodies in the gap of the flaming stake wall.
“Thera, it’s my fault,” Vince said softly to the Dark Elf.
The Dark Elf stared at him for a moment and then set off at a blinding speed.
Vince slumped onto his back as Elysia pushed on his shoulder. She gripped his left forearm in both hands. Looking at her face, he saw it was a picture of concentration. Desperate concentration as she murmured under her breath.
Something’s wrong.
Looking to his left hand, he saw that half of it was missing. His ring finger, pinky, and half his palm weren’t there. Simply gone.
“No wonder I couldn’t hold a shield.” Looking to said shield, he found a chunk of meat that looked like his palm still mashed into the grip.
Elysia stood up and looked back to the battle ahead of them. A lightning bolt crashing down from above into the enemy ranks at the rear.
Vince looked down to his left hand and found that, while it wasn’t whole, it was no longer bleeding. He now only had three fingers on his left hand.
Standing up slowly, Vince looked around for Daphne or Thera.
Before he could decide to head back in to find her, Thera popped back into view, dragging an unmoving Daphne behind her.
The spear had been lost somewhere, though it was apparent to anyone who looked where Daphne had been struck. Blood pumped out of the gaping wound with every beat of her heart.
She looked like she’d been dipped into a vat of blood.
“Elysia, do… do what you have to.” Vince paused. She’d been using energy nonstop. She might not even have enough to do this. And he couldn’t channel into her at the same time she was trying to use her magic.
“If I dump energy into Daphne, can you use that instead of me pumping it into you?” Vince asked, squatting down next to Daphne as Thera dragged her over.
“Yes, but… but my liege, this is… this is grave. I’m not sure I can—” Elysia made a fluttering motion with her hands.
“Do all that you can.”
Vince looked into Daphne’s face. Her green eyes were staring up at him. She gave him a bloody smile, her teeth coated in the red liquid.
“Sorry, dearest,” Daphne said, trailing into a coughing fit.
“Hush. No more talking. Only healing. No dying,” Vince said gruffly.
Placing his hands on her chest, he opened himself up to his trees and begged their assistance.
Their response was what he’d hoped for. Overwhelming and instinctive.
Elysia had sat down across from him. She tore off Daphne’s tunic, exposing her entire torso, then laid her hands on top of the wound site. Blood seeped up between her fingers, spreading rapidly over Daphne’s stomach.
Her eyes started to glow faintly at the sheer magnitude of the power being emptied into her. Then the color began to fade away.
“Daphne, damn it. No. You have to focus and stay with me here. Karya managed to get me to agree to spend time with just you and her next week. You can’t leave yet,” Vince said glaring down at her.
Daphne gave him a bit wider of a grin, the glow in her eyes slowly fading to nothing.
She’s bleeding out. She needs more blood. Elysia can fix the wound, but without blood, it’s pointless.
Mom’s biology books. Blood. What makes blood? No, not blood. Plasma. Bone marrow.
Vince grabbed hold of his mental gift, latched on to his trees, and tried to drown himself in the power in his own body.
Then he tried to focus that raw, unadulterated maelstrom of energy into Daphne’s dying body.
Specifically, he targeted the bone marrow throughout her body. Demanding that it ramp up blood production.
Daphne’s eyes lost what little color they had in them, her eyelids fluttering.
“I can’t stop the bleeding,” Elysia said.
Damn it, no, damn it, no, damn it, NO!
Vince felt something break inside himself, and then all the power he’d been bathing himself in rushed out of him. Into nothing.
“I’ll hold this here,” Thera replied.
“It won’t stop. I can’t stop it,” Elysia said in a panicked
voice.
Vince felt winded. Then exhausted. Like the river that was his life had run dry.
Hanging his head, Vince looked to the battle lines. His troops were pushing forward now. The humans were giving ground steadily. Then they broke and started to run.
“It’s over,” Elysia said with a soft sigh, standing up. Blood dripped from her fingers and stained her dress terribly.
Vince watched as Frit and Henry chased the humans off for a short distance before returning to the gap. Wounded were gathered up and brought to Elysia, who immediately triaged the situation and set to work.
“She’s a good healer, dearest.” A warm hand pressed to his cheek, a thumb brushing over his eyebrow.
Vince looked down to find Daphne smiling at him. Bloody teeth and all. Looking down, he saw her stomach was a twisted mass of scar tissue. It didn’t look like it would hinder her much, but it looked awful.
Daphne looked down and saw the same thing he did. “Guess I won’t be wearing anything showing off my stomach again.”
Vince snorted, then started to laugh in between a few choked-off sobs.
“Idiot. Like I care about scars. I mean, they’ll be calling me lefty here soon,” Vince said, holding up his mangled hand.
“Maybe you have me beat,” said the Dryad, laying her head down on the grass. “You bound our trees into one.”
“I what now?” Vince asked, reaching up to brush the hair back from Daphne’s brow.
“Meliae’s tree, Karya’s tree, and my tree are now connected in a grove-like situation. Beneficial, but dangerous. More for you than us.”
“Don’t care,” Vince said, and then laid his forehead to hers. “You’re okay?”
“I’m okay, dearest. Don’t do that again. It hurt,” Daphne complained.
“I won’t.” Vince gave her a quick peck and then stood up, walking over to Elysia, Thera, Frit, and Henry.
The High Elf was hunched over a Hobgoblin she’d just put back together. His chest was a mass of scar tissue, but he lived, and looked to be in no pain.
Elysia glanced up at him as he approached, a pained look in her eyes.