Heir to the Sundered Crown (The Sundered Crown Saga)

by Matthew Olney

  “Siege towers!” Thondril bellowed drawing his silver sword. The towers rumbled forward from their hiding place in the pass. Fronti ran down the steps of the tower, desperate to catch up with the men he had just ordered to the other wall.

  Thondril followed but instead of heading to the south he took up position on the wall. His nervous men looked to him for courage. The knights drew their silver blades whilst the sergeants continued to rain arrows and crossbow bolts upon the approaching ghouls. The stamping of their armoured feet sounded like distant thunder as they drew nearer. Thondril narrowed his eyes trying to measure distances in his mind.

  “Ballistae!” he ordered with a shout. The young sergeant standing nervously at his side raised a blue and red crossed flag, the signal to the ballista crews stationed on the towers lining the walls. A similar flag was raised as the crew acknowledged the order.

  Seconds later a bolt the length of a man was launched from atop the nearest tower with a deafening twang. The crossbow shaped ballista lurched in its iron frame as the deadly metal bolt flew.

  The men roared as the bolt smashed into one of the approaching towers. The bolt decapitated the top of the wooden structure sending debris flying in all directions. As the order spread down the line more ballista bolts were launched.

  One flew wide of its mark to plunge into the hoard below. The bolt carved a huge furrow into the earth, vaporising zombies and ghouls alike. Another bolt struck another tower but instead of breaking it in two like the other had done it embedded itself deep into the wood.

  Thondril wiped his brow of the nervous sweat which was threatening to drip into his eyes. The ballistae were powerful weapons but would take precious minutes to reload. For a brief moment he wished that the legion were manning the wall with his men rather than the less skilled soldiers of Eclin. ‘Use what you are given’ he scolded himself.

  He turned to look at the southern wall. Smoke continued to rise and the sound of clashing steel could be heard faintly over the stamping feet of the armoured ghouls.

  He closed his eyes and offered a prayer to Niveren. He prayed that the city would hold.

  *

  Woven left Elena and the boy at the Baron’s castle before he had snuck out back into the city. His men were fighting for their lives and we would be at their side. To avoid the angry crowd at the castle gates he had used one of the baron’s escape tunnels which ran under the city streets. If the city fell then the prince and baron would be smuggled out of the castle.

  Unfortunately the escape tunnels were also used as the city sewers and the smell was foul. After ten minutes of running through the maze of tunnels and through who knew what, he came across a metal rung ladder which led back up onto the streets. He lifted the manhole cover and gasped as he breathed in air which was tainted by smoke.

  He looked around to get his bearings and realised he was on the main thoroughfare which led from the southern gate to the market district. A scene of utter carnage lay before him. The stone of the south wall were blackened by fire, the charred corpses of dozens of soldiers were scattered nearby like broken toys. The gate was still standing but every now and again it shuddered as something large and heavy smashed into it from the outside.

  He narrowed his eyes to see rangers rushing towards the gate. Clambering over the walls were werewolves their teeth bared and ready to kill. The rangers shot a volley of arrows which sent some of the beasts falling back from whence they came. Others evaded the deadly maelstrom, for those the rangers drew their swords and charged into the fray.

  Woven took his own bow from his shoulder placed an arrow on the bowstring before running towards the fighting.

  He dove for cover as the body of a ranger smashed into the ground; a werewolf had its jaws clamped tightly around the dead man’s throat. Woven didn’t hesitate. He loosed his arrow which struck the monster in the eye. It howled as it reared back in pain. Woven drew his sword pulled back his arm and hurled the blade. The sword spun as it flew. It punched through the wolf’s chest with a satisfying shlick sound.

  He darted forward, pulled his sword from the wolf, raised it high and cleaved the beasts head from its body. He did the same to the body of the ranger. The werewolves curse was highly contagious, it was a well known fact that even the recently deceased could return as one of the beasts.

  A horn sounded back up the road. Riding hard through the smoke were two dozen heavily armoured Knights of Niveren. They dismounted before quickly heading into the nearest tower to scale the stairs upward and join the fray. Woven was right behind them.

  After a tiring climb they burst out onto the walls. The knights ploughed into the beasts, their silver swords glinting in the sunlight as they cleaved their way into the enemy ranks. Woven let the knights lead the way. He could see that they would secure the walls. Further down he could see the rangers advancing steadily until with one last swing of a sword the last werewolf was thrown from the wall. The rangers cheered at their victory.

  “We were told the Lich was here. Where is it?” one of the knights said sombrely.

  Woven looked out over the wall. The ground was littered with arrows, broken bodies of defending soldiers and the corpses of zombies and werewolves. Of the Lich, it was nowhere to be seen. He frowned as he noticed the burning gatehouse.

  “It was here. It tried to destroy the gate,” he said quietly. A nagging feeling wormed its way into his gut. Why had it stopped its assault? Was it toying with them?

  Cheers went up from the other walls. He could see Eclin troops raising their weapons into the air in celebration on the western flank.

  The Knights to the east however were quiet. An flaming arrow was shot high into the air from one of them.

  Woven sheathed his sword. That was the sign for the all clear.

  “Have we won the day?” the knight asked, hope evident in his voice.

  Woven shook his head.

  “This was just the first day. The Lich won’t stop until we are all dead or we kill it.’ He said as he clapped the knight on the shoulder, ‘if I were you I’d prepare for a long siege.”

  ***

  34.

  Yepert tripped as the grim faced legionary captain shoved him forward for the tenth time in as many minutes. With his hands bound he was unable to keep his balance and fell face first onto the road. The three other soldiers laughed at the mages plight. Yepert had been shocked at the hate the men directed towards him. Having spent much of his childhood safe in Caldaria he’d had little knowledge of just how hostile the normal folk were to those with magic.

  “Get up,” the captain growled. A pair of big hands griped his arm painfully and hauled him back onto his feet.

  “Please. You have to listen to me!” Yepert pleaded.

  “Don’t! Cover yer ears less the mage puts a curse on us,” another of the legionnaires said. Genuine fear was in his tone.

  The soldier squeezed Yepert’s arm painfully.

  “Shut up. You’re gonna find out what happens to mages who break the law when we get to Sunguard. You’ll probably be burnt alive on a pyre or perhaps pulled apart by horses,” the captain chuckled licking his lips in glee.

  “I think not,” said a voice from ahead of the group.

  Yepert’s eyes widened and a smiled creased his lips. Standing in the middle of the road were two men. One clad in black the other in white.

  The black clad man was Ferran. At the Nightblades side stood Kaiden, the knight had his silver sword resting casually on his shoulder.

  “Who the heck are you? You dare interfere in Legion business?” the captain snarled. He tightened his grip on the mage and unsheathed his sword. The other three soldiers did likewise.

  “I am Ferran, Nightblade and defender of the realm. This,’ he said gesturing to Kaiden, who flashed a smile, ‘is Sir Kaiden. Knight of the Niveren Order, and we are here to rescue our friend.”

  The legion captain spat.

  “I don’t care who you are. My orders come from General Rason. The true Ki
ng of Delfinnia. Stand aside or I’ll order my men here to gut you like fish. You understand?”

  Kaiden lowered his sword and pointed the tip of the blade at the captain.

  “We will leave you till last. You can tell you’re false king that we will stop him,” the Knight said darkly.

  The captain chuckled humourlessly. He hauled Yepert backwards and threw him heavily into a bush at the side of the road. He pointed at one of his men.

  “Make sure he doesn’t move. I and the lads have some killing to do”

  The captain and two of the legionaries stalked towards Ferran and Kaiden their weapons drawn.

  “You take the goons. I’ll take the captain here,” Kaiden said to the Nightblade at his side. Ferran smiled and nodded in agreement.

  Kaiden dashed forward and swung his sword in a wide arc. The sound of clashing steel rang out through the silent forest. The legionary captain blocked the attack with ease to counter with a thrust of his own. With lightning fast speed Kaiden parried the blow and countered with a quick jab aimed at the captain’s throat. The captain arched backwards. The tip of Kaiden’s sword missed its target by mere inches.

  The two men circled one another. Both were skilled, both were quick.

  Kaiden feinted with a shift of his shoulder. The captain read the feint and forced him back a step with a lunge of his own sword. The blades clashed and the fight began in earnest.

  The captain bellowed as he swung his sword, narrowly missing Kaiden’s chest. Kaiden parried another blow and launched a series of quick thrusts and cuts, they struck coming together in a twist of sweat and straining muscle.

  Kaiden took two quick steps forward forcing the captain off balance and brought his blade up in a neat slice, breaking the captain’s defence and cutting deeply into the growling mans chest. Only the captain’s armour had saved him from a mortal wound.

  The captain grunted in surprise as Kaiden pressed his attack without pause, slash after slash. Each was parried by shifts of weight and movements of the legionnaire’s blade. Sweat poured into Kaiden’s eyes.

  Desperation filled him as he tried to think of new moves to break his foes defences. He disengaged with a quick step backwards. Both men were panting and covered in sweat.

  The two men stood glaring at one another; both skilled in the art of swordplay. For a heartbeat neither man moved, then suddenly and with explosive force the two fighters smashed into each other.

  Kaiden began his attack; he darted in past the captain’s guard with a twist of his body and was out again before his opponent could react. He buried his sword deep into the man’s chest plate piercing the armour as well as flesh and bone. Blood burst from the mortally wounded mans mouth before he crumpled into the dirt, blood pooling under the corpse.

  Kaiden planted his sword into the ground and leant heavily on the hilt, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He glanced behind him to see Ferran standing over the bodies of the other two legionnaires. The Nightblade flashed him a cocky smirk. He had dispatched his foes without breaking a sweat. They had been no match for his magic.

  “Good work Sir Knight. These two’ Ferran said gesturing to the bodies ‘weren’t all that good.”

  He whistled sharply. A few moments later Sophia and Davik emerged from the trees. The Witch hunter had her bow ready and aimed at the remaining legionnaire who now had his arms held high in the air in surrender.

  “Please. Please don’t hurt me. Don’t turn me into anything unnatural I beg you!” the soldier cried as Davik helped Yepert to his feet.

  Yepert glared at the soldier. He felt sad that just because he was a magic user the man was terrified of him. He was just a boy after all. Davik disarmed the pleading man and shoved him to his feet.

  “On your feet son, where were you heading?” the old warrior asked softly to the soldier.

  “S-S-Sunguard,’ the man stammered. ‘We were ordered to take the mage to the capital to stand trial. Please I was just following orders,”

  Davik drew his sword and pointed it menacingly at the man’s throat.

  “We’re letting you go. I suggest you run home, cast aside your weapons and lay low. Now go,” he said. The soldier sighed in relief and scurried off up the road.

  “Are you alright?” Sophia asked Yepert. She hugged the boy tightly causing him to blush. ‘they didn’t hurt you did they?”

  “No. I’m fine really. How did you find me? I thought Alira had you all.’ Yepert asked.

  “As a Nightblade I know some short cuts through the wilds. The Golden Empire’s engineers may have been brilliant but they weren’t very good at making their roads the shortest route” Ferran explained.

  Yepert then described all what had occurred since that night in the forest, and of what Rason had told him. Finally he finished his tale. He noticed something. Someone was missing.

  “Where’s Luxon?”

  Sophia looked away, tears in her eyes. Ferran looked away too, unable to meet the boy’s concerned gaze. Kaiden however placed a hand on Yepert’s shoulder.

  “The witch; she did something. Cast a spell I think. She mentioned something about the void. That Luxon was the key.’ Kaiden sighed heavily; ‘He never returned and we couldn’t find him after Davik here freed us. I’m sorry.”

  Tears threatened to come from the lad’s eyes. His best friend in the world was gone. The knight squeezed his shoulder.

  “What do we do now?” Davik asked tiredly. The old man was leaning against a nearby tree and rubbing his wounded leg. The speed at which they had crossed country had taken its toll on his body. Every part of him ached. When they had found the boy he had been in no state to fight.

  Ferran rubbed his chin deep in thought.

  “Rason is heading to Eclin. We know that Cliria and the general are allies in some way. Could she be looking to join him?” Sophia offered.

  “The legion ally with a witch? Never. If his men knew that he was in league with one they would stop following him in a heartbeat,” Davik replied.

  Before being made the King’s bodyguard he had been a commander in the legion he knew how legionnaires thought, what they believed in.

  “It’s all for nought. Even if we do find her again none of us have the power to oppose her. I say we return to Caldaria and get help from the mages,” Ferran said. “What do you say Sir Knight?”

  Kaiden was sat on the ground his eyes closed in prayer to Niveren.

  “My order went to Eclin. The Heir is there. I will not speak for you all, but I am heading north. Balnor is a few miles to the east.’ He said pointing down the road. “There we can resupply, get fresh horses and even maybe allies. I feel that much will be decided in the mountain realm,” the knight said slowly.

  “I will go with Kaiden,” Sophia said. ‘It is my sacred duty as a witch hunter to put an arrow in that bitch’s black heart.”

  “I too will go with the knight. I have unfinished business with the general.” Davik said as he limped over to stand beside the Knight and Witch hunter.

  Ferran nodded in understanding.

  “Very well, me and the boy will return to Caldaria. I will bring as many Nightblades and mages as I can muster and hasten to Eclin. The priority is to safeguard the heir and destroy the witch. If we succeed we can end the war.”

  ***

  35.

  Umbaroth soared over the strange world of the void. Holding onto the mighty dragon’s neck for dear life was Luxon.

  Despite Aljeron’s insistence that he wouldn’t fall he clung on tightly. The wizard was stood next to his young pupil an amused expression on his face.

  Passing below at an astounding pace were vast black forests and purple seas full of bizarre life forms. They had passed over a gigantic plain which was covered in huge luminous mushrooms which monstrous six legged creatures ploughed through.

  The void was an entirely different world, and one that Luxon was finding stranger and stranger by the day. He had lost all track of time but knew that he must have been in the void for
over a decade. Time flowed differently in the strange place, his worries for his friends had faded to a feint memory, but Aljeron assured him that in the real world only a day or two had passed.

  The dragon’s massive wings cast a shadow on the lands below. Upon seeing the dragon most creatures turned tail and fled. A huge host of pucks had caused a stampede as they fled back into the forests of black trees.

  Luxon was realising how much of a danger the void posed to his home. If Danon or his followers ever succeeded in opening the void rift as he had done thousands of years previously then the beasts would flood through. He remembered the history classes taught by Master Ri’ges back in Caldaria.

  The creatures of the void had poured through the rift, their numbers beyond counting. In the first days that followed, entire towns and cities were overrun. Countless men, women and children had perished.

  “We’re almost there,” Umbaroth said in his deep rumbling voice over the sound of whistling air. Luxon almost heaved as the dragon began to descend. Even though he knew he was just a spirit in this place, his mind still held on to the belief that he was there psychically.

  After a quick descent the dragon landed with a slight thud. Despite its huge size Umbaroth was surprisingly dainty when he wanted to be.

  Luxon slid off the dragon’s back. Using magic he slowed his descent. The dragon was the height of a two story house after all.

  His powers were growing by the day. Already he had mastered the lower and middle rings of magic. Today he would be taught the upper ring.

  His feet touched the ground softly; Aljeron applauded his skill at levitation.

  “Well done. Remember that magic can be used to enhance your body. The upper ring will grant you the power to increase your speed and even your strength. Be warned though that such spells are immensely tiring,” the wizard explained as he too floated down to the ground. “The Nightblades specialise in such magic. They make it look easy,” he added.