The Strength to Serve (Echoes of Imara Book 3)

by Claire Frank

  The Halthians rained arrows down on the approaching force and the Attalonians answered back. Arrows flew out through narrow holes in the roof of the siege engines and more archers brought up the rear, firing up at the stronghold. A loud horn blast rang out, and the beasts pulled, moving the wall closer, as catapults launched from the Halthian side. More arrows flew, soaring over the chasm in both directions, and Daro pulled Cecily down behind a parapet as the volley came near.

  Arrows clattered around them and someone screamed not far to their right. Fire Wielders took up their positions along the wall, some lighting arrows for the archers, while those who were strong enough stood over the bridge and shot fire down on the attackers below.

  Keeping low, Daro dashed across the wall to retrieve a discarded bow. Young soldiers-in-training ran along the wall, restocking arrows, and Daro took a supply. Motioning for Cecily to follow him, he crept down the wall toward the bridge.

  “Can you cover me?” he asked as he readied an arrow. Cecily nodded. “Now,” he said as he darted up and aimed his bow down. Cecily stood to his side, sweeping her Reach in a wide arc through the air to knock arrows aside, leaving him free to shoot down at the attackers.

  His arrows bounced off the slightly curved surface of the siege engine. The Attalonians wheeled them in front of the gates and Daro could see the flow of energy as the huge logs in the center were pulled back. As they swung forward and hit, a boom rang out, echoing off the chasm walls, and the stronghold vibrated with the impact.

  “Stoker,” Cecily called and he came running. “Down there. Aim for the holes between the plates if you can.”

  Stoker nodded and stood by Daro as they rained down arrows and hot exploding rocks on the Attalonians below while Cecily deflected the barrage of arrows. The siege engine struck again, the massive steel-tipped log booming against the gates, and the stronghold shuddered beneath their feet.

  Daro gritted his teeth in frustration as he shot another arrow. It didn’t seem like they were having any effect. Balls of fire and burning arrows streamed from the wall across the chasm. A few of the barriers burned, sending up plumes of black smoke into the air, but most were untouched. Arrows flew back and forth in a flurry. Daro knew the Halthians had the better position, and the long bridge kept Attalon’s full strength from attacking the fortress up close, but if the Attalonians broke through the gates, it would be over. The Halthians must be outnumbered five to one.

  The logs swung again, smashing into the gates, and Daro heard the stone crack. He shot another arrow as he heard the clicking of the chain as the logs were pulled back for another strike. Stoker threw a rock and it exploded on top of one of the siege engines, to little effect.

  “Damn,” Daro said as he looked down. Arrows flew toward him but Cecily knocked them aside, the blue tendrils of her Wielding energy snaking across Daro’s sight. “We’re not doing enough damage. Shale!”

  Shale ran over and ducked down below the parapet. “We’re holding our own, but they don’t seem to have an end,” he said.

  “We have to stop those siege engines,” Daro said as he and Cecily crouched next to Shale. “If we lose a gate, we won’t have much hope. We can rain fire down on them while they cross the bridge, but with their numbers, they’ll swarm all over the stronghold. Do you think you can jump down there?”

  “Onto the bridge?” Shale said as he rubbed his bald head. “Most likely, although I’m not so certain that’s a good plan you have there, commander.”

  “I’m not certain either,” Cecily said. “You can’t go down there.”

  The acrid tang of smoke filled the air, and another archer went down nearby, screaming as he clutched at the arrow in his chest.

  “We have to get those engines off the bridge,” Daro said. “Shale and I can do it. You keep us from getting shot while we’re down there.”

  Cecily opened her mouth but Daro didn’t want to give her a chance to protest, so he got up and drew his sword. The metal gleamed in the red glow of a Fire Wielder’s flame as Daro hoisted himself up onto the side of the wall and pulled in a great surge of energy. Cecily’s Reach hurled out from behind him, clearing the air, as Shale covered himself in rock.

  “Now,” Daro said and launched himself out over the bridge. His stomach lurched as he fell, but the searing power running through him burned away his fear. Bending his knees as he landed, he took the impact, and straightened. Scarcely a moment later, Shale landed on top of one of the machines with a heavy thud, encased in his armor of stone.

  From this angle, Daro could see into the siege engines. The metal plates were overlapping, but beneath them were the legs and feet of the men inside. Shale dropped next to him and, with a quick glance up, Daro saw Cecily’s Reach snaking out like streaks of blue light, fending off the assault from above.

  “Help me push it off the edge,” Daro said. A few Attalonians ran up the center, between the two engines, but Shale smashed them with heavy blows from his stone-armored arms while Stoker fired from above.

  Daro pushed against the side of the engine. The interlocking metal plates shifted and one of the men inside burst out, holding the plate in front of him. Daro realized it was a shield. Watching his energy shift, Daro moved to the side and struck, getting around the tall shield and running the man through. With his sword still in his hand, Daro leaned against the engine, pushing with all his strength. Shale bashed another attacker, then put his hands on the side of the engine and shoved. It started to move, scraping across the surface of the bridge. Daro drew in more energy, feeling the strange flow in the bridge itself, and filled himself with burning power. Grinding his teeth together, he heaved and the engine lurched sideways. The log inside swayed wildly, missing the gate as it swung.

  “Again!” Daro said, and let energy fill him. Shale roared, and the engine groaned as they pushed it closer to the edge. One of Stoker’s rocks exploded behind them, hitting them with a wave of heat, and the other engine’s log swung and smashed against the second gate.

  More Attalonians dislodged themselves from within the siege engine. Daro and Shale fought them off as Cecily’s blue shafts of energy bolted across Daro’s vision. Another explosion rang out next to him and Daro surged forward to push the structure. Bracing himself against it, he heaved, pouring as much energy as he could hold into his push. The front side of the engine swung out over the edge of the bridge and men fell from inside, screaming as they plummeted to the bottom of the chasm. It tilted as it hung there, half on the bridge and half off, the front end pointing precariously down. Men tried to scramble out, but Shale let out another roar as he heaved the back end upward, tipping it enough that it hurtled over the side, taking the men with it.

  The back two structures were already springing to life as men abandoned their cover and rushed forward to attack. Arrows and fire rained down on them from above as the Halthian Wielders and archers sent another barrage. The Attalonians held their long shields above their heads, but at such close range they were easier targets.

  The second siege engine smashed against the gate. “I’ll hold them back, you open up the sides,” Daro said to Shale, hefting his sword.

  Attalonian soldiers lunged ahead, attacking with long pikes. Daro watched their energy flow, anticipating their movements, and his sword darted through the air, deflecting and cutting. Risking a quick glance over his shoulder, he saw Shale ripping a shield off the side of the siege engine, exposing the interior to the assaults from above. A glowing hot stone hurtled through, exploding inside, and Cecily’s Reach flew by like a whip, knocking weapons aside.

  Daro parried and struck, killing another soldier as Shale went down the line, pulling off shields and bashing any attackers who got near him. Stoker pitched more rocks and the concussive explosions echoed off the chasm walls as the last of the men inside abandoned the engine. A burst of fire hit and the chains snapped, sending the log to the ground with a heavy crash.

  Another surge of Attalonian soldiers ran across the bridge, and Daro motione
d for Shale to follow. “Let’s go.”

  Ropes flung down, and the archers and Wielders covered their retreat as Daro and Shale scrambled up the wall, hoisting themselves up the ropes as fast as they could manage. An arrow pinged off Shale’s armor as they clambered over the edge, and Cecily and Stoker both ducked down below the parapets.

  Daro leaned his head back against the stone, breathing heavily after his climb, although his body still thrummed with energy. “The siege engines are done.”

  “Please don’t do that again,” Cecily said as she wiped the sweat from her forehead.

  Stoker popped up to look over the wall, then crouched back down. “There are still men coming across the bridge, but some of their flank forces are already retreating.”

  Daro nodded and looked around. Some of the men nearby were gaping at him. He stood and pulled his Heorun sword from its sheath and held it aloft.

  “Drive them back!” His voice carried over the din battle. “Archers! Loose!” he said as he lowered his sword to point over the wall.

  A volley of arrows and fire raced across the chasm and down onto the bridge.

  “Again!”

  More men rallied to him as he directed the defense, calling for volleys in a steady rhythm. He picked up another bow and joined them, yelling for them to fire, and adding his arrows to the barrage. General Coryn commanded further down the wall, her shouts lost in the din.

  A horn sounded from across the chasm and the Attalonians began to retreat en masse. A cheer rose up along the wall as the army pulled back, abandoning many of their burning wall structures and leaving their broken siege engine behind.

  Daro leaned against the wall and watched them retreat as the people around him celebrated. They’d held them off this day, but both gates were badly damaged and Daro didn’t know if their Shapers could shore them up in time for the next assault. He could tell the Attalonians hadn’t yet released their full force. Their distant encampment was still alive with energy. The next time they came, he hoped the Halthians would be strong enough to hold them off.

  42. SEND AXXUS

  The sound of the baby’s crying crawled up Isley’s back and made her head ache. It seemed he did little else, other than eat and occasionally drop into a deep sleep for a few hours. Then he’d wake up squawking again, as if he hadn’t been fed in days. The sight of his soft cheeks and tiny fingers roused something in Isley, and she refused to let most of the servants anywhere near him, but she preferred to gaze at him while he slept. This crying nonsense threatened to drive her mad.

  “Can’t you make him stop?” Isley asked, glancing over at Brynn. Her servant blinked at her as she walked, bouncing the wrapped bundle as she paced the room.

  “A baby will cry,” Brynn said, then went back to making a rhythmic shushing sound, in time with her bounces.

  Isley sighed heavily and stood from her bed. She’d been hoping for some rest, but the child wouldn’t be quiet. Who would have known such a tiny thing would be so much work? The wet nurse had already been in to feed him, and Brynn had bathed him and changed his underclothes. What could he possibly want now?

  “I can’t stand this infernal crying,” Isley said. “Quiet him down before I get back.”

  Although she saw Brynn roll her eyes, Isley allowed the servant a great deal of leeway and didn’t reprimand her. Brynn was one of the very few people she trusted, so a small discourtesy was forgivable, as long as it only occurred in private.

  Stepping out into the hall, she pulled a gauzy shawl around her shoulders. It was mid-afternoon and the palace was quiet. Her ears felt physically relieved to be free of the constant howling of her son.

  We aren’t safe here.

  “Don’t be silly, of course we are,” Isley said. “Caen is the heir to the Empire. What harm could come to us now?”

  He won’t need you forever.

  She pulled the shawl tighter around her arms. Even she had to admit she didn’t have an answer to that. “No one would dare. I’m the mother of Horadrus’s child.”

  Whose child?

  “Don’t you start asking questions of me, now,” Isley said. “I have this well in hand. Besides, there are things even he doesn’t know.”

  As she walked, Isley reached for her Wielding energy. She could brush against it but, like fingers through smoke, she couldn’t quite capture it. It felt closer, however, and she spent time each day working her way toward it, pushing through the barrier that kept it concealed. Several times since Caen’s birth a month prior, her power had broken through and she’d spontaneously crafted an illusion. They dissipated before they could take true form, but it was enough to keep her working toward restoring her ability.

  She passed the hallway that led to the throne room, and the sonorous tones of the Emperor’s voice drifted toward her. The voices in her mind hissed but she pushed them away. Their fear wasn’t to be relied on. She adjusted her flowing beige dress and ran her hands down her waist and across her shrinking abdomen. Her shape was returning, although far more slowly than she would like. Perhaps her swelling belly had been what kept Horadrus immune to her attempts at seduction. As the mother of his heir, she was determined to position herself as his consort, and eventually become his wife. So far as she’d been able to gather, he took no women to his bed, nor men either, which was both good news and bad. She didn’t appear to have competition for his physical affections, but he didn’t seem particularly interested either.

  Isley crept down the passageway, keeping her footfalls soft. His voice had gone silent and, as she peeked into the circular room, she didn’t see anyone but Horadrus. He sat on his throne, his strange eyes closed, and held a hand out to touch an oblong stone on the arm of his seat. Isley stopped, biting her lip. She’d never encountered him completely alone, and possibilities blossomed in her mind. But his hand on the stone sent a shiver of dread up her spine, conjuring a flash of remembrance. Lord Alzor had made her touch a stone such as that one and, as her blood had seeped into its surface, the Emperor had delved through her, laying her secrets bare.

  Horadrus opened his eyes, shining and white, and his face contorted with a look of fury. “Bring me my generals. Now!”

  Isley shrunk back as his voice boomed, echoing off the walls. He sat still, as if he were carved from the same cold stone as his chair, his eyes unmoving. He hadn’t seemed to notice Isley, so she ducked behind a pillar next to the tiled wall, waiting as the sound of footsteps approached.

  Go! Go now!

  She kept her mouth shut, refusing to answer. Although part of her shared the voice’s alarm, she wanted to know what was happening.

  General Gwinele came in, followed closely by a hulking man wearing a breastplate and gauntlets. General Axxus. Isley had seen him several times before when he came to see Horadrus. They stopped in front of the Emperor and knelt, leaning forward to touch their foreheads to the floor.

  “Rise.” The Emperor’s voice was strained and the lines around his jaw were tight.

  The generals both stood, facing the Emperor with their arms at their sides.

  Horadrus stared at them for a long moment. The hair on Isley’s arms stood on end and she swallowed hard. As much as she despised General Gwinele, she couldn’t help but be impressed with her ability to withstand that intense gaze for so long without flinching.

  “We have a problem,” Horadrus said. “Alzor has proven deficient. His first effort to take the stronghold failed.”

  Gwinele didn’t move, but Axxus shifted on his feet. “Certainly the next surge will prove successful, Eminence,” Axxus said.

  “The barriers took heavy losses from fire, and he managed to lose two siege engines,” Horadrus said, his voice rising. “They should be through those gates by now.”

  Axxus’s hands curled into tight fists. “Those siege engines were my creation. How could Alzor have let this happen?”

  Horadrus rose slowly from his chair. “This failure is unacceptable,” he said, shouting the last word, and both generals flinc
hed.

  Isley’s heart beat hard as she watched, and she kept low so as to stay out of sight. A few servants scuttled about the outskirts of the room, jumping when the Emperor spoke. She’d never seen him roused with such emotion.

  “If you please, Eminence,” Gwinele said, “breaking through a defended structure may take more than one strike. The bridge narrows their approach and limits their options for the assault.”

  “Our force should have overwhelmed their defenses in a matter of hours,” Horadrus said, his face contorting with fury. “Hours!” He paused, his chest heaving, his eyes wide. “I have conquered every land for thousands upon thousands of miles, since ages before either of you were born. My plans are precise, and I expect them to be carried out in their entirety, without failure. I have waited too long to bring Halthas within my fold. I will not be stopped here.”

  “Yes, Eminence,” Axxus and Gwinele said together.

  Horadrus took slow steps from his dais as he continued. “I’m sending Axxus ahead of the main force. Requisition our fastest ship. You leave immediately.”

  Axxus stepped back. “Immediately, Eminence? It will take time to assemble the Black Legion for travel.”

  “No,” Horadrus said, his tone low. “Your legion will arrive as scheduled. I need you to sail ahead and take control of the assault. My faith in Alzor is rapidly waning.” He stepped close to Axxus. The General was a large man, but Horadrus towered over him. “Take that bridge and drive the Halthians out.”

  Axxus gave a brisk nod and then turned to glance at Gwinele. Her eyes were tight and her body tense. Without a word, Axxus pivoted and strode from the room.

  Gwinele lingered, her eyes fixed on the wall. Horadrus’s anger was still palpable, making Isley shrink back in fear as he opened and closed his fists. Slowly, he turned his head toward the general.

  “You disagree with my decision to send Axxus?”