As the two charging Tarsinian warriors drew near, Malbeck lifted his spear again, and with only a few words sent a crackling blue bolt of lightning toward the king and the prince. The bolt split in two, striking them both. Kromm was flung from the saddle and thrown backwards, landing hard amidst the men that were charging forward. Riker, however, instinctively lifted his shield, but it was not needed as his cognivant power absorbed the bolt into his body. He tensed his muscles as Malbeck's power was redirected, spreading throughout his entire body.
Koranthos spurred his black horse forward and met the prince head-on, his sword of fire crashing into Riker’s shield, sending sparks flying into the air. The vicious power of the attack nearly overwhelmed him and he felt an instinctive urge to flee, but something inside him pushed his fear away as Riker realized that his Ishmian powers were blocking the magical fear created by the Banthra, just as it had absorbed the energy of the lightning bolt. There were very few beings capable of taking on a Banthra. Normally only a cavalier would, or someone with an iron will and immune to fear, someone like Kiln, or his own father. But he too had his own tricks.
The power of the blow was incredible, but Riker’s magical shield held, and he returned the strike with his own as he pivoted his horse and swung his blade towards the Banthra’s hip. The Banthra’s devil steed quickly turned, however, and the Sword of Light just scraped against Koranthos’s armor, sending up a shower of white sparks. Just then a sizzling bolt of electricity slammed into Koranthos from above, the power of the magic throwing the demon from his horse and sending him crashing to the ground on his back.
For the prince, time had seemingly slowed down. Men and monsters surrounded him, screaming and howling as they fought. But no one came near him. His entire body was glowing as he held the Sword of Light low to his side. He now turned his horse towards Malbeck, spurring it forward and flying toward the Dark One, the Sword of Light urging him forward. Both warriors came at each other as fast as their steeds could carry them.
The Banthra was struggling to its feet. The Ekahal's lightning bolt had badly damaged the demon, but still it stood, and Allindrian and Kiln were there to meet it. Swords flashed, sparks flying as they cut into the demon’s magical armor. But Koranthos was not finished yet. His sword flared brightly as he swung it across his body, the long blade erupting in hot flames that shot out several paces. Both Allindrian and Kiln ducked away, but not quickly enough to prevent their exposed flesh from being singed. Koranthos took advantage of their retreat, stepping forward and slashing his blade towards Kiln’s stomach. Kiln barely got his sword up in time to keep the blade from disemboweling him, but the power of the strike sent him sprawling several paces away. The Banthra called on his innate ability to paralyze his opponents with fear, sending out a chilling wave of terror in hopes of freezing the two warriors in its grip. Allindrian felt the dark magic grip her momentarily, but she shook it off just in time as Koranthos’s blade came at her faster than she thought possible. The demon had put all of his strength in that blow and the Blade Singer took advantage of that. The Banthra was quick, but Allindrian was quicker. Ducking under the blade, she pivoted towards its sword arm while bringing her singing sword down and across it. Her sword, forged by the greatest elven sword smith, sliced through the demon's armored arm, sending up bright sparks as both the flaming sword and the arm fell to the ground.
Riker felt an incredibly thick presence of fear in the air as Malbeck neared, but again his cognivant power blocked it and the Dark One’s power fell away from him harmlessly. Just before the moment of their impact, Riker lifted his shield as Malbeck, using his spear like a lance, struck him head-on. The shield held, but the power of the strike sent Riker flying from his horse. He landed hard on the ground, knocking the wind forcefully from his lungs. Miraculously he still held the sword in his hand. In fact it felt as if the weapon had been fused to it. Apparently Tihr-Alliam did not want to leave the prince’s grip. Riker struggled to his feet as Malbeck turned his nightmare steed around and galloped towards him, again leveling the spear directly at him.
“I do not know how you are surviving my magic, Prince,” he snarled, spitting out the last word. “But it matters not, you cannot beat me physically.” Malbeck’s horse snorted, shooting flames from its demonic nose, causing Riker to jump back from them. Malbeck then bolted forward in another attempt to skewer the prince with his spear. Riker had learned many lessons from his father, Jonas, and Graggis. One of them in particular was how to deal with an overconfident adversary, who would often expect their opponent to retreat when confronted with a strong offensive maneuver. He learned that advancing on the attacker could sometimes throw him off balance, giving you the advantage. So that was what Riker did.
As the spear shot towards him Riker shuffled forward on the balls of his toes, lifting his shield up and pivoting to the side, his sword arm already in full swing. The spear glanced off the shield and Riker’s blade struck its shaft just behind the sharp point, splitting it in half and releasing a powerful explosion of magical energy. The Spear of Gould was an artifact of great power, with only one weapon on Kraawn that could break it. And that was Tihr-Alliam. The explosion threw Riker to his back for a second time, but it proved much more deadly for Malbeck's nightmare steed, whose head was literally blown off, causing the Dark One to tumble to the ground as well.
Malbeck regained his footing, grabbed his huge double bladed battle axe from the horse's side, and walked slowly towards Riker. The Dark One stood a full head taller than the young prince, and he easily held the cumbersome axe in one hand.
Koranthos had jumped back, and using his good hand he shot a burst of flames directly at Allindrian, hoping to avoid her deadly blade. But the flames hit an invisible wall, veering to the side and missing her completely. Then a black sword slammed into the Banthra’s chest like an arrow, pushing the thing backwards as blue sparks erupted from the wound. Allindrian smiled as Jonas appeared by her side, holding a single sword edged in blue light.
Kiln was now engaged with one of the big ogres whose comrades were wreaking havoc on the soldiers. They were crushing as many as two at a time with powerful swings of their giant clubs. The battleground was a chaotic melee of hundreds of disorganized pitched battles being fought all over the killing ground. Several ogres had even fought their way through their defensive line and had run forward over the bridge to the inner gate. But they didn’t make it far. Ballista bolts fired from the inner wall stopped them cold, fatally piercing their thick bodies and dropping them dead onto the bridge stones.
Meanwhile, Allindrian and Jonas had spread apart and flanked the Banthra. Suddenly a flying beast slammed into the demon from the side, its massive jaws clamping onto the demon’s head. Tulari landed on all four feet, jerking her head left and right in an attempt to snap its neck. Normally the strength of her jaws alone would have ripped its head from its shoulders. But Koranthos was the most powerful of all the Banthras and he would not be killed so easily. The demon knight drew a black blade from its hip and rammed it hilt deep into Tulari’s side. She howled in pain, releasing the Banthra’s head from her jaw and leaping away from the cursed blade.
It was all Riker could do to keep the giant axe from splitting him in two. His shield arm had been badly battered and bruised since he had been taking most of the strikes dead center on his shield. Malbeck’s axe swooped in left and right, down and up, coming at him impossibly fast from every direction, and he didn’t seem to be tiring.
But he was. His arms felt heavy and his chest heaved, sucking in desperately needed air. Tihr-Alliam was glowing fiercely, the sentient sword feeling the presence of its ultimate enemy, the thing it was made to destroy, directly in front of it. The prince felt a cold fear embrace his body as he contemplated his own death. Suddenly, death became a reality, and he didn’t want to die. He wanted to raise a family, and see his children grow up and rule an empire that he helped create, a kingdom free of Malbeck and his minions.
Again Malbeck brought
his axe down on Riker’s shield, easily wielding it with only one hand. Simultaneously he lifted his other hand, shooting a massive bolt of red electrical energy into Riker’s sword arm. The fatal bolt, however, became an infusion of magic that was instantly absorbed by Riker’s body, exploding within him in a surge of renewed vigor.
In a flash, and with more power and strength than he thought possible, Riker pivoted as he angled his shield down, causing Malbeck’s axe, and body, to slide forward. Then, without stopping, he stepped forward and spun a full circle, Tihr-Alliam leading the way. It was the same move he had used against his father, but this time his body was fueled by the potent magic he had absorbed. His sword flared with a blinding light as the point sliced through Malbeck’s stomach, dropping the Dark One to his knees. Malbeck dropped his axe. Clutching his abdomen, he looked up at the prince in complete shock.
Riker was equally shocked, and instead of finishing him, he stepped backwards, his sword arm shaking from adrenaline.
“Kill him!” Someone yelled nearby. The prince looked over and saw his father stumble towards them. His arms and legs had been badly burnt, his clothes and armor were charred and smoke drifted from his entire body. But still he lived. The battle king held his sword at his side, running as best he could towards his son. “Finish him!” he yelled again, lifting his sword to deliver the death blow himself.
Koranthos, a bit dazed from Tulari’s attack, tried his magic one last time, releasing crackling bolts of energy towards the Blade Singer, but Jonas intercepted the move. Instead of creating a cognivant shield in front of Allindrian, he wrapped the Banthra itself, causing the magic to dissipate harmlessly against itself. Using his powers against the power of a Banthra was very dangerous. It took a tremendous amount of effort, severely straining his body and mind. He had already been forced to use it twice and this third time weakened him so badly he fell to his knees. The pain in his head exploded like a volcano, nearly immobilizing him. But he knew it would soon fade to a dull ache and he was confident that Allindrian would take advantage of the time he had given her.
And she did. Running forward like a gazelle she bounded into the air, sword swinging, the Banthra momentarily immobilized by Jonas’s cognivant energy. Just as her sword struck, Jonas released the energy of the shield, and her magical blade sliced through its armored neck, sending the Banthra's head into the air in a shower of sparks.
Malbeck, turning his milky eyes on the battle king, lifted one hand, and again whispered his words of power, releasing another bolt of crackling red energy at the king. The power of the strike stopped him in mid-stride, throwing him violently backward. He fell to the ground, convulsing briefly before lying still.
“No!” Riker screamed, turning in fury toward Malbeck as he swung Tihr-Alliam toward the demon’s body.
The Dark One turned, and instinctively relying on magic again, he lifted his other hand, bringing forth a wall of energy to block the young prince’s attack.
Riker could sense the shimmering wall when he struck it, but his cognivant power pushed through the shield as if it were no more than a light mist as he continued his powerful swing.
Malbeck could not understand how this young boy was countering his most powerful magic, magic that had been bolstered by the Shan Cemar. But his thoughts were literally cut off as Tihr-Alliam struck his neck, severing his head in a massive explosion.
A powerful wave of searing energy blew outward from Malbeck’s body, launching Riker fifteen paces into the air before he landed hard and tumbled across the ground. In the process he could feel his body virtually boiling with energy, almost as if he too would explode, incinerating himself in the process. But somehow his body was able to withstand the massive amounts of energy that he had inadvertently absorbed into his body. He was able to diffuse it, subduing its tremendous power as if it were no more than a flame in the wind. But the earth around the explosion was scorched black in a massive circle, the power of the explosion incinerating nearly a dozen of the enemy. Unfortunately, six Finarthian warriors had also perished from the intense energy released by Malbeck’s death. But more would have died, however, had the prince not absorbed the tremendous energy released by the explosion
A chorus of cheers sounded from above as thousands of men and women along the inner wall screamed with joy over Malbeck’s death. The inner gate opened as four thousand more men rushed forward shouting “Prince Riker!” and “Finarth!” eager to join in the fight now that the Dark One was dead. There was no longer a danger of Malbeck breaking down the gate and soon the defenders swarmed over the remaining and demoralized enemy, cutting down the invaders with new energy fueled by hope. Within the hour every monster in the killing ground was dead and three thousand men and women were lifting their bloody swords in victory.
Jonas and Allindrian ran towards the explosion to find the prince. Lying nearby was Kromm’s body, still smoking and covered with burns. In his hand he still gripped Cormathian, his sentient sword. Allindrian swore softly as she knelt down and checked for a pulse. She listened for a moment, then her eyes lit up with joy. “He lives, but barely I’m afraid. Check on the prince.”
Immediately Jonas ran towards the prince’s body as Allindrian channeled her meager healing energy into Kromm. She did as much as she could for him, then shouted frantically for more healers to come.
The prince was lying face down on the ground. Jonas gently turned him over and was relieved to see his chest moving. The young warrior let out a low groan and slowly opened his eyes, causing Jonas to step back in surprise as they flared briefly with a glowing white light before quickly returning to normal. “Is he dead?” Riker asked.
Jonas smiled. “He is.…well done.” Jonas helped Riker to his feet.
“Is my father dead?” the prince asked, looking past Jonas towards his father’s body.
Jonas’s eyes grew serious. “He lives, but just barely.”
“Help me to him,” Riker said, limping forward on a damaged knee.
Riker put his arm around Jonas and together they walked over to the fallen king. The prince knelt next to his father and gripped his hand firmly. “Father, can you hear me?”
“I have done what I can, but he needs expert healing,” Allindrian said. “I cannot believe he survived that magical attack, and twice,” she whispered softly.
Kromm’s eyes fluttered open, his pupils focusing on the Blade Singer. “It will take more than that to kill me,” he said weakly, his voice a harsh whisper. Surprised, Allindrian looked down at the king’s sword arm. Sure enough, his badly burnt hand was already turning a healthier shade of pink. She suddenly realized it was the sword, sending small waves of healing magic into its master, keeping him alive when he shouldn’t be.
“I killed him, Father,” Riker said.
Kromm smiled. “I’m proud of you, son. You have saved us all.”
Sweaty men covered in blood, some wounded, all exhausted, began to surround them. Among them was Kiln. He lifted his bloody sword into the air. “Finarth!” he screamed. Thousands of voices exuberantly joined him, their cheers echoing loudly between the walls. Soon, they were shouting “Prince Riker!” over and over, and within moments, from within the city itself, the cheers were loudly echoed by the men, women, and children of Finarth, the sound of victory, and the sound of hope, resonating throughout the city.
Outside the gates, unsure of what to do and no longer held together by Malbeck’s power, the enemy army began to disperse. Many pillaged the bodies that littered the battle field, while still others fought amongst themselves over weapons and other items of value. The chaos outside the gate lasted for hours, but finally thousands of orcs and goblins drifted away, dispersing into the forest and the approaching night in small clan groups, no longer unified under the yoke of the Forsworn. They moved in all directions, but most went east into the mountains, leaving behind a vast and bloody battlefield of churned and trampled soil littered with the dead and dying.
Epilogue
The funeral
pyres burned brightly in the night, one built higher than the rest, the other two flanking it. Thousands of people, civilians and soldiers alike, filled the walls and grounds surrounding the pyres, looking on in solemn silence. King Baylin’s body burned in the flames and on either side of him, in positions of great honor, was the bodies of Durgen, and Hagar. Jonas, Allindrian, Kiln, Prince Riker, King Kromm and his wife, Sorana, along with Tuvallis and Seli, stood on the ground at the base of the fires looking on with a mixture of sadness and hope, knowing that the honored had sacrificed themselves for the greater good of Finarth, and so had thousands of others.
The day after their victory was perhaps tougher on everyone than the fighting itself. It was then that everyone had time to contemplate their losses, to think about what had happened over the last few days. Enemy bodies were dragged away and burned in massive fires, while their own dead were buried with honor across the plains near the city. Farm land was taken and thousands of graves dug, each body carefully wrapped and laid to rest deep in the earth. It would take several days, with thousands working, to bury all the dead, for they had lost nearly ten thousand men and women.
Much had to be done. The cities walls needed to be repaired, the gate replaced, but more importantly the wounds of the minds and hearts needed to be mended, and that would take much longer, for some even years, and for a few, never.
Jonas had frantically searched for Fil’s body amongst the dead. When he found him, he had dropped to his knees in anguish, but moments later new hope surged through him as he head Fil moan when he rolled him over. He was alive.
“Fil, what happened? Where are you hurt? It took a moment for Fil’s eyes to open, and even when they did he did not look right. Then Jonas saw his helm. One side was caved in and blood coated that side all the way down his neck. Something big and heavy had struck him in the head. His eyes fluttered open briefly and he mumbled something incoherently. Then he was still again. “I need a healer! Now!” Jonas screamed. There were lots of men and healers about sorting through the dead, looking for survivors, identifying bodies, and it wasn’t long before a priest of Ulren was at his side and he immediately went to work on Fil.
The Cavalier Trilogy: Book 03 - Glimmer in the Shadow Page 42
