The strike wasn’t fast, and she ducked under the blade easily enough. She had to hold herself back to keep from burning the man to a crisp. Instead she spun around him and kicked him in the back of the knee, so that he suddenly collapsed under the weight of his armor.
But the knight’s attack had galvanized the others. Some horses wheeled around the small hilltop, others charged her outright. Brianna was forced to raise a wall of flames in front of her to scare the charging horses. The charging knights veered away, but not before someone shouted that they should use arrows. A shiver of fear ran down Brianna’s back. She could keep the soldiers at bay if she needed to, but she couldn’t stop a well-aimed arrow. Her body was thin, her bones light, and she controlled fire completely, but a sword blade would still kill her. An arrow might be burned up in mid air if she saw it coming, but a volley of arrows was more than she could deal with.
The commander was shouting at his men, but they weren’t listening. They were young warriors, eager for action. The garrison of light horse soldiers at Felson had been decimated by Bartoom. Brianna guessed that the soldiers around her now had heard stories about that attack. She and Zollin had dealt with stupid officers too taken with their own status to care about justice or even the difference between right and wrong. All they cared about were that men obeyed them, but Brianna didn’t want to kill the soldiers or even harm their horses. She wanted Sorva to swoop in so they could just fly away to safety. But even though Brianna had sent a mental call for the dragon, there had been no reply, which meant that Sorva was too far away to help her now.
The soldiers were sheathing their swords and sliding their lances into the hoops that hung from the saddles. Others were already pulling their small bows from their saddle bags. The cavalry bows were much shorter than hunting bows. Before changing into a Fire Spirit, she had been quite proficient with a bow herself. The small bows and short arrows were perfect for shooting from horseback. They weren’t made for range, and their small size allowed the shooter to move the weapon back and forth to either side of the horse. A larger weapon would have been unwieldy in the saddle, but the small bows were deadly, even from fifty or sixty feet away.
Brianna knew she couldn’t wait any longer, so she turned and sent a plume of fire straight down the hill. There were soldiers there too, but they moved quickly to avoid her flames. Then she ran. She was fast and ran right into the heart of the flames. The sun was setting now and the knights cast long shadows. If she could just survive until the sun set, she could hide from the knights until Sorva returned.
Behind her the knights were shouting to one another and kicking their horses into action. Brianna could outrun the big horses that were hindered with the weight of the heavily armored knights, but only for a short distance. Once the horses got up to a gallop, they would run her down easily, and there was no chance she could keep moving longer than a horse. She needed to do something drastic. She raced over the next hill, then turned and sent a huge wall of flame rushing down behind her. Brianna could control fire, make it do whatever she wanted, but she didn’t want to hurt the soldiers. She only wanted to escape, but it was becoming harder to achieve her goal without inflicting damage of the soldiers at the same time.
An arrow whistled past her. It wasn’t close enough to be a threat and obviously just a wild shot, but Brianna didn’t want to get caught up in a flurry of arrows. Even wild shots from the group of knights would eventually find their mark. She needed to do something fast, but as her mind tried to come up with a solution she saw a mental image of Sorva diving toward the knights and spewing fire. She immediately sent back another message.
The terrifying black dragon was racing toward the knights, its huge wings flapping hard, its long, whiplike tail rigid behind. Then just as the dragon came in range of the knights, it pulled up and roared. Brianna was still running, but she felt the roar shaking the ground. She turned and saw several knights fall from their horses as their mounts panicked. Some were turning to face the new threat, others running for their lives. The commander was shouting at his men, but it was a futile effort. Some of the knights were so caught up in the idea of battle that they actually charged at Sorva, but the dragon easily flew up out of their reach. Some shot arrows at the black beast, who would have killed the entire troop of soldiers if not for Brianna’s intervention. The arrows didn’t reach Sorva, who blew a plume of fire out over of the knights. The fire roiled through the sky; the bright orange flames stood out in stark contrast to the darkening sky above. Sorva’s flaming blast was too high to harm anyone on the ground, but the warning was clear enough.
Brianna was just breathing a sigh of relief when she heard a strange, piercing cry. It was similar to the sound of a falcon or eagle, but it was louder, the tone more menacing. For a moment everyone froze in place, even Sorva, as they searched the sky for the strange new sound. The sun had almost set, but there was still a blazing section of light in the west. Out of that blinding light flew the largest bird Brianna had ever seen. It was blood red, the feathers so slick to its body it almost appeared to be wet. The wings were huge, almost as large as a small dragon. Brianna guessed the wingspan to be twenty five or thirty feet. The bird had a relatively small body, but its legs were thick and the talons were large.
Brianna wasn’t even breathing as she watched the bird swoop up from where it had been racing along, close to the ground, maximizing the setting sun’s blinding light to hide its approach. It came in so fast that no one had time to move before it attacked. The huge raptor shot upward so quickly that Brianna could scarcely believe what she saw. Her dragons were fast, especially Tig, with astounding maneuverability, but the bird was even faster.
It shot upward, then flipped suddenly in midair, diving straight toward Sorva. The black dragon tried to avoid the bird but it had been hovering above the knights and had no momentum. Sorva seemed slow compared to the giant bird, which flipped right before reaching Sorva, extending its wretched talons. Brianna was running back toward the knights before she even realized what she was doing. There was no thought of her own safety, she just knew she had to get to Sorva and save the dragon.
The bird screeched as its talons ripped through Sorva’s leathery wing. The dragon roared in pain and fury. Brianna was fairly certain that she was screaming as well. In the back of her mind she saw the looks of fear and awe on the faces of the armored knights she ran past. Sorva spewed flames at the bird, but the fire wasn’t as fast as the strange creature. It dove down and then swooped upward, avoiding the blast of fire. The dragon was falling, one wing shredded, the other flapping hard to keep Sorva from crashing into the ground. Brianna could see that the dragon couldn’t stay in the air. The knights saw it too and began to scatter in all directions to avoid being close when the huge black dragon hit the ground.
The bird wasn’t finished. It few upside down as it made a huge loop in the air over Sorva. Brianna had never seen any creature flying upside down, but the bird did just that. Its head and back were pointing down toward the ground, its vulnerable belly facing up toward the sky, which was quickly dimming as the sun set. Brianna knew that if she didn’t do something soon she wouldn’t be able to see the bird and it was moving too fast to track it. She kept thinking she had to save Sorva, and more than ever she wished Zollin were with her. They were great when they worked together, and somehow she had forgotten that. He always seemed to know what needed to be done. He was creative in combat, something she sometimes failed to be, relying mostly on the raw power of her fiery abilities.
The bird’s second pass was worse that the first. It looped around and raced straight for Sorva, the talons outstretched, eager to do damage. Sorva was twirling down toward the ground, and didn’t even see the attack coming.
“Look out!” Brianna screamed, but there was no time to react.
The bird’s talons wrapped around Sorva’s good wing. The dragon’s wings were made of a tough, leathery hide that stretched between two long bones. The upper part of the wing was a thi
ck bone, in some places it was almost as large as Brianna’s thigh. The lower wing was much more delicate. A dragon could fly with holes in its wings, or even with a broken lower wing bone. But the bird snatched at the thicker upper bone. It took hold of the wing, its powerful legs twisting. Brianna heard the bone snap like a thunder clap, and the rolling, crashing sound of the storm was Sorva’s roar of agony.
The bird did its dirty work in less than a second, then it was racing away again, but not before Sorva’s roar and flaming attack scorched the bird’s long tail feathers. Brianna saw some of the feathers vanish as Sorva’s fiery breath came near. A dark cloud of black smoke was all that marked the attack, but it told Brianna everything she needed to know. The bird was fast and deadly, but it was also vulnerable to fire.
Sorva fell to the ground, turning at the last minute so its back slammed into the turf as it slid to a sickening halt. Brianna expected Sorva to flip back over, but the dragon was too weak. The huge rear legs pawed at the air, like a child kicking toward a bully after being shoved to the ground. Brianna glanced up and saw the bird turning. It had slowed, and she guessed it was savoring the moment just before the kill. The thought sickened Brianna, but it gave her just enough time to do what she needed to do.
She was almost to Sorva when the bird dove again. Sorva was so weak it could barely raise its head on the long, sleek neck. Brianna jumped, flipping in the air and landing on the pad of Sorva’s foot, just between the large, curving claws on the dragon’s massive toes. Instinctively Sorva kicked out, launching Brianna high into the air. To the diving bird, Brianna was nothing but a smaller creature hurtling upward. The bird twitched to avoid Brianna, still intent on the kill and oblivious to any danger.
The attack was so massive that the knights who were watching the battle in the fading twilight had to shield their eyes. Brianna unleashed a wave of fire that completely engulfed the bird. The wretched creature screamed in agony, then fell like a shooting star. The blast had knocked it off course so that it crashed right beside Sorva, but fortunately not on top of the dragon. The bird flipped and flopped, its body a raging blaze of fire. Brianna, lifted high on the heat from below, floated in the air where she watched the bird’s death throes. She had expected the bird to be hurt, perhaps even mortally wounded by the blast. The fire had been intended to vaporize feathers and blister the flesh below, but the bird’s skin and tissue seemed to burn like dry wood. It became the biggest bonfire Brianna had ever seen, burning longer and hotter than she could have imagined. Only Sorva’s natural resistance to fire kept it from being consumed by the bird’s massive blaze.
It took several minutes for the bird to die, and by the time Brianna floated back down to the ground, most of the creature was gone. It had burned to thick, powdery ash. Brianna knew that even as the day ended, people for miles around would be able to see the dark, oily smoke from the bird’s burning corpse, but she felt no regret. As soon as she landed she placed herself between the knights and Sorva. She wouldn’t let anyone or anything else hurt the dragon, who was still trying to roll over onto its stomach.
For several minutes the knights watched her, but then they regrouped and only their commander rode forward. He was a pompous man, looking down his nose at her from where he sat in the saddle, but Brianna could see the fear he was trying to hide. Sorva was obviously wounded and vulnerable, but the knights had seen what Brianna could do and none of them would dare attack her now.
“It seems we have succeeded,” the commander said.
Brianna didn’t respond; she just stared at the officer, who was uncomfortable with her silence.
“You should leave with us,” he said. “You are wanted in Felson.”
“Go to hell,” she said, her voice tight with fury.
“So be it,” he said, looking a little too relieved by her answer.
He turned his horse and ordered his men to move out. The soldiers reformed their long line and rode their horses away. Brianna felt herself sag with a sudden sense of exhaustion. She was just turning back to Sorva when she heard an eerie sound. It was a squawk, just familiar enough that Brianna could tell it was the same piercing cry of the bird that had attacked Sorva, only this time the pitch was much higher, the sound not nearly as loud. She felt every muscle in her body tense as she searched the sky for another attacker.
Then, out of the flaming ashes of the bird’s burning body she saw movement. A small bird, barely the size of a raven, hopped out of the flames. Its body looked raw, and it was featherless, but it spread its wings and took to the air. Only then did Brianna realize that the bird was a phoenix, and she’d just seen it reborn from the ashes of its former body.
Chapter 21
Lorik ran, following the shady form of his friend as they raced away from the camp the mercenaries had made. He was breathing hard before he saw the horses. It was dark—the only light was from the stars and moon. Vera had three horses in a small depression among the rolling hills so that they were hard to spot until you were almost on top of them.
“Are you okay?” Vera asked Stone when they finally stopped running.
“Fine,” he said.
Lorik was irritated that the younger man wasn’t even breathing hard.
“They never saw me coming.”
“We should keep moving,” Lorik said. “They’ll be looking for us soon.”
“A thank you wouldn’t be amiss,” Vera snapped. “Stone did just save your life.”
“He’s saved mine before,” Stone said. “We aren’t keeping track.”
“I am grateful,” Lorik said as he climbed up into the saddle of the third horse. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”
“Didn’t see a need to interfere at first,” Stone explained. “Those soldiers looked like they were escorting their biggest hero.”
“Yes, but it seems King Yettlebor is craftier than we expected,” Lorik said. “He’s brought in mercenaries and given them lands, titles, and the authority to do whatever they please.”
“He’s a fool,” Vera proclaimed.
“He’s strengthening his position,” Lorik said as the horses trotted south through the darkness.
“Men like that are only loyal to themselves,” Vera said.
“Greed is a powerful motivator,” Stone added.
“And Yettlebor is giving away the treasury to keep hard men like those around him,” Lorik said. “He knows he needs time to solidify his position as king of Ortis.”
“You’ve given him a year,” Vera said.
“Perhaps it would have been better to root him out right away,” Lorik said. “But the last thing I wanted was more bloodshed.”
“Will it be any less bloody now?”
“No,” he told her. “But I’m ready to do what I have to do now. I did my best to be content in the Wilderlands. I gave peace a chance, but there was no peace in my heart.”
“I would imagine that there has been very little peace anywhere in Ortis with mercenaries on the loose.”
“Yettlebor should have used his time more wisely,” Lorik said. “He could have used his army to secure the northern settlements, not give them away as bribes to mercenaries.”
“Well, at least we know what kind of man we’re facing,” Stone said. “He’s desperate enough to do anything. That’s information well worth having. We can’t underestimate him again.”
“No,” Lorik agreed. “We have to be just as devious as he is if we want to take the throne.”
“I’ll just be happy if we all live through another day,” Vera said.
Daylight flooded over the hills several hours later while Lorik and his companions were walking their horses. The night had seemed to drag on and on, but stopping was dangerous. Not only were the mercenaries sure to be following them, but they might even circle around and raise the alarm in Ort City. If King Yettlebor knew that Lorik was coming to the city, he would certainly have his guards on high alert.
They had stopped talking at some point in the night when e
xhaustion demanded that they focus all their remaining energy on staying awake. But the sun seemed to revive them, and they stopped just long enough for Vera to hand out hard biscuits, apples, and small chunks of a very sharp cheese. The only redeeming quality to the meal was the juiciness of the apples, but after they ate they all felt better. Vera rode for a while, nodding off in the saddle as Stone led her horse.
“So what is your plan?” Stone said. “You still think simply confronting Yettlebor will be of any benefit?”
“No,” Lorik said. “A man who willingly surrounds himself with criminals and thieves cannot be reasoned with. I learned that early on in Hassell Point.”
“So… where does that leave us?”
“I’m not sure,” Lorik said. “Perhaps we’ll get lucky and he’ll be away from the city.”
“What will that accomplish?”
“If he isn’t there, I’ll just assume the throne and take control of his army. I’m sure I can raise enough men loyal to me to hold the castle.”
“And he’ll just give up?” Stone asked, his skepticism obvious.
“I said that luck would be a factor. Besides, if we have the stronger position, he may have no choice but to surrender his claim.”
“I highly doubt that. In my experience there’s only one way to deal with a man like Yettlebor.”
“I want to find a way that minimizes bloodshed. I don’t want my rule to be started with murder.”
“If a man comes into your house and decides to claim it as his own, you have every right to kill that man. It’s common law. Besides, this isn’t the beginning of your rule. That was defined very clearly when you came out of the Wilderlands and rescued nearly a thousand citizens who had been taken prisoner because the former king abandoned them. Your legacy already includes pushing back the biggest Norsik invasion in over a century and the defeat of the witch’s army. Not to mention rescuing the queen from a wicked necromancer in Baskla.”
“That was a much easier problem than the one facing us now,” Lorik said. “We had nothing to lose against the Norsik or the witch’s army. Fighting, even if we had died, was preferable to falling to either of them. But now we have to consider the innocent. If we fight, people will die. Fathers and sons, citizens of our own kingdom who are in no danger from king Yettlebor’s occupation of the throne.”
Chaos Descending Page 17
