“I think you’re wrong,” Jayden said. “Humans are not so very different from us.”
Mavri smiled over at him. “You only say that because you have seen them at their best. But you are still young. Mark my words. In time, their true hearts will be revealed.”
In a strange kind of way, Jayden agreed with him. Human dominance had been a threat to the elves ever since the end of the first Great War. Though the uneasy truce that followed remained in place, there was never any hope of real relations starting to develop. He had heard Linis speculate that, had the Reborn King not arrived when he did, the elves would have eventually faded away to nothing; at least on this side of the Abyss.
As they neared the border of the desert, the hills flattened and the air became noticeably hot and arid. Mavri was clearly growing ever more agitated with each day that passed.
When Jayden asked him if he was all right, he smiled and replied, “I cannot help but wonder what life will be like in such a harsh land. Back home, I knew how to survive. It’s a little unsettling to realize that I’ll to learn such things all over again.”
“I’m sure it won’t take long for you to adapt,” said Jayden.
He puffed a laugh. “An easy thing to say at the onset of one’s life. Not so easy when you have more days behind you than ahead.”
The day before they were due to arrive at the first border town, Jayden noticed a look of concern on Sayia’s face.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Vrykol,” she said. “At least, I think so. It’s still a good distance away and right on the edge of my abilities.”
Jayden didn’t bother trying to sense the creature himself. They had meditated only a few times since joining up with the party. Nevertheless, it was encouraging that when they had taken time out to do so, the rhythm of the earth had come through to him quite clearly. He had even managed to channel a small amount of the flow without being emotional. That was definitely a breakthrough.
“What should we do?” he asked.
“We must hope they pass us by.”
“And if they don’t?”
“We fight,” she said. “And some will die.”
For a short time after, he felt a touch heavy-hearted. He had grown quite fond of several of the elves, Mavri in particular, who seemed to go out of his way to be kind and friendly. It was difficult to imagine that beneath their welcoming exteriors lurked hatred and fear.
Sayia approached Mavri to explain the situation. He nodded sharply and then set about spreading the word among the others. Sayia, who normally lagged at the rear, now took the lead. Jayden walked alongside her.
The march was slow compared with the previous days, and the tension was palpable. By midday, Sayia still could not be sure if it was in fact a Vrykol she had sensed.
“I have heard that the desert possesses strange qualities,” she explained. “If we were not so close, I would not question it.”
It wasn’t until the sun was low on the horizon that she finally relaxed. The threatening presence had dissipated.
“There’s a small elf settlement nearby who help newcomers to the desert,” Mavri informed them. “We should be safe once we reach there.”
Jayden had his doubts. It felt strange to him that they had not run into any resistance at all. By now, he had expected to encounter at least a few of Saraf’s devotees. Of course, it was quite possible that some of the god’s followers had already seen them but had been simply too afraid to approach a large band of elves. And one Vrykol on its own would be no match for them either. It would take far more than that, even without Sayia’s powers.
That night none of them slept, and conversation came in quiet whispers. By now the nights had become as cold as the days were hot. Equally dispiriting, the ground was covered with a short, dull brown grass that offered little in the way of comfort. Jayden did not enjoy the cold, and working in the fields had taught him to hate the heat. To his mind, life in the desert did not sound even a tiny bit appealing.
As dawned broke, he spotted several columns of black smoke rising in the far distance. The others, seeing it was well, rushed to gather their belongings.
Mavri approached, grim faced. “That is where we were heading.”
Jayden’s stomach knotted. “What are you going to do?”
“There is only one thing we can do: hope that we can get there in time to help.”
“We should send a scout ahead,” Sayia suggested. “Charging in blind could get you all killed.”
“And if they’re fighting for their lives this very moment?” Mavri challenged. “Though we may die, we will not hesitate to aid them.” As if to emphasize his determination, he drew the short sword hanging from his belt.
“Stay close to me,” Sayia instructed Jayden.
There was no need for Mavri to tell the others of his intentions. They were all of the same mind. But the smoke was far away. Even at a dead run, it would take hours to reach the settlement. By then, any fighting would probably be over.
As one they started out, some with blades in hand, others with bows. The pace was incredible. Jayden found himself falling behind in just a matter of minutes. He reached out for the flow, and this time it came effortlessly. Strength filled his limbs, allowing him to swiftly join Sayia at the fore. She looked over and gave him a sharp nod of approval.
They made it to the small outpost far sooner than he’d expected. Not that it helped. Even when still a fair distance away, he could see that they were too late.
The camp was just a tight circle of what Jayden thought had once been tents, together with a row of three small wooden buildings. All were now naught but smoldering timbers and ash. Completing the distressing picture, a dozen bodies lay strewn about the ground, their corpses hacked and broken.
The band halted a few yards from the outer edge of the camp, rage written clearly on every one of their faces. Most of the dead were within the circle of tents. A surprise attack. The toppled pots and shattered plates suggested that they had been set upon during their afternoon meal.
“Whoever did this will pay,” vowed Mavri in a voice that carried loudly enough for everyone to hear. His knuckles turned white around the handle of his weapon. “Look for tracks.”
“No need,” Sayia said, turning north of the destruction. “They’re coming back.”
The elves immediately set about removing their packs and forming a line. Jayden felt the flow surge within him as his anticipation increased. He wanted them to come. A glance over to the bodies of the fallen elves brought his anger returning tenfold. The Vrykol had done this because of him. They had slaughtered innocent people who had no part in what was happening. He bared his teeth, the flow rising with each breath. He would make them pay.
“Do not lose yourself,” warned Sayia. “Do as I say and stay close.”
Jayden nodded, but his eyes were fixed straight ahead. He could see six figures in tan cloaks approaching, each one of them bearing a savage-looking serrated blade. Behind them came another three dozen men, humans in light armor with the symbol of Saraf on their breastplate.
“Can you destroy them?” Mavri asked Sayia.
“Alone, no. But I will be able to burn a few before they can span the distance.”
A sudden thought occurred to Jayden. “Are there enough Vrykol to stop us from using the flow?”
As if in response to this question, three of the creatures broke away from the others and joined hands to form a circle. Together, they began to sway to and fro. Almost at once Jayden felt his grip on the flow fading. He tried to hold on, but in seconds it was completely gone.
Sayia held out one hand, her brow knitted with concentration. “It would seem to take fewer than I imagined.” She unsheathed her long knives and widened her stance. “Those with bows should target only the humans. Arrows will do nothing to stop the Vrykol.”
Once within range, the elves loosed a volley of arrows. Four human soldiers fell, but this did nothing to slow their advance. Full of
hatred, Jayden felt an almost overwhelming urge to run forth alone and meet their attackers head on.
The three Vrykol still advancing veered left, away from him and Sayia and directly toward the archers. With the creatures closing fast, the elves dropped their bows and drew their blades. Jayden set himself to join the fray, but Sayia caught his arm.
“Stay beside me,” she ordered.
Ignoring her words, he ripped himself free. The flow might have left him, but the confidence and uncontainable defiance it produced still remained. He charged forward.
An almighty clashing of steel tore through the air as blades collided. The humans were still a good distance back, unable to keep up with the Vrykols’ furious pace. It made little difference to the sway of the battle. After only a few seconds, three elves had already been cut down.
Roaring with rage, Jayden hacked into the back of an enemy. The Vrykol twisted violently around just as the sword touched its flesh, sweeping its own blade across in a lightning horizontal strike that was intended to take the head of its attacker. So fast was the creature’s reaction, Jayden felt a flash of terror on realizing that he almost certainly did not have enough time to duck out of the way.
His mind was still trying to force his body into taking evasive action when a pair of long knives caught the blade only inches from his neck and deflected it harmlessly away. Sayia, her face contorted into a vicious snarl, then shoved him hard back with her shoulder before letting fly a blistering series of strikes at the creature.
His narrow escape from death had drained every trace of Jayden’s rage. Stunned into realizing his own limitations when without the flow, for a few seconds he simply watched her battle. But then, after seeing the Vrykol’s counter attack open a long gash in Sayia’s left arm, he quickly recovered his wits.
He knew that the humans would be on them in moments. They needed to deal with the Vrykol quickly, or they would be totally overwhelmed. He stabbed low, sinking the tip of his blade into his enemy’s thigh. It had little effect. Undeterred, the Vrykol continued its attack on Sayia, driving her ever back. Twice more Jayden struck, and twice more his blade opened wounds that would have felled a mortal foe. His eyes constantly searched for an opportunity to take the beast’s head, but it was well aware of the threat and never allowed its neck to be exposed. Jayden was becoming increasingly desperate. With the two other Vrykol also fully involved in the battle nearby, more elves were falling victim around him.
The humans were now spreading out to encircle the group rather than confront them head on. Jayden lunged at the Vrykol yet again, just as Sayia was parrying. This time his sword sank deep into the creature’s chest, and the scraping of bone vibrated up the hilt. It reacted by twisting hard right, ripping the sword completely from Jayden’s grasp. Sayia instantly spotted her opportunity. Diving low, she rolled behind the creature, then popped up again to sweep her weapons in a backhanded crossing pattern. Her aim was true and the blades lethally sharp. The Vrykol’s head rolled from its torso.
Seeing this, the remaining two backed away. But by now they had already slain at least half of the elf party. Those still alive were gathered in a tight group. The humans had them completely surrounded. One charge would end it. Jayden retrieved his sword and took position beside Sayia.
“So this is it,” he remarked with a calmness that even he found astonishing. “I always thought I would be afraid to die.”
She glanced over. “We’re not dead yet.” There was a strange sense of assurance in her voice, despite the desperate state of the situation. They were outnumbered and already decimated.
The small group of surviving elves were equally resolute, staring out at their would-be killers with a defiance that clearly displayed they would fight to the last.
“Surrender,” called one of the Vrykol. “We only want the boy.”
Mavri stepped forward. Though bleeding from several wounds on his chest and legs, he held himself erect. “Take him if you can,” he shouted back.
“Foolish elf. You would lay down your life for a mongrel half-breed?”
“He is no half-breed. And you will take him only when I have drawn my last breath.”
The elf’s words caused a flood of guilt to rush through Jayden. This must not be allowed to happen. He would not watch these brave people die fighting for a lie. He couldn’t do that to them.
He turned to Mavri. “The Vrykol tells the truth. I am a half-breed. I deceived you and your people. You don’t need to die for me.”
Confusion showed on the elf’s face. “But I touched your flesh,” he countered. “You are not of human blood.”
“What I am doesn’t matter,” Jayden said. “I can’t allow any more of you to die because of me.” He turned to the Vrykol. “You will let everyone else go if I come with you?”
“You have my word.”
“And what is that worth, demon?” spat Sayia.
“It was not I who lied to my own people,” said the Vrykol. “The boy must die. We have no interest in the others.”
“Even if what you say is true,” said Mavri, “you have slaughtered many of our kin. We cannot allow such a deed to go unanswered.”
“Your kin died due to their own lack of wisdom. You need not share their fate.”
“Please,” Jayden cut in. “They’ll kill you all.”
“And they will kill you if we surrender,” Mavri pointed out.
He shrugged. “They’ll do that either way.”
“Step forward,” commanded the Vrykol. “It will be swift, I can promise you that.”
Sayia moved in front of him. “I will not let you. It cannot end like this.”
Jayden tossed his sword to the ground. “It has to. There is no other way.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and smiled. “We tried.”
She was on the verge of tears. “You drew on the power of heaven before. Surely you can do so again.”
“If I could, I would,” he told her. “But I don’t know how. I have no choice but to surrender.”
His defeatist tone galvanized her into action. She shook her head wildly. “No! You mustn’t. I will not allow it.” Shoving Jayden with all of her strength, she whirled around and charged straight at the enemy.
Taken off guard, he fell flat on his back. Sayia had already covered half the distance by the time he was able to roll onto his knees. The enemy simply waited, weapons at the ready. Jayden was horror-struck. She would be cut down in seconds.
A mighty bellowing roar echoed from out of the desert just as Sayia reached the enemy line. She battled with a furious intensity, but after only a short exchange of strikes, Vrykol steel pierced her stomach. She slumped to her knees. Another roar sounded – deep, menacing, and rapidly drawing closer. The Vrykol withdrew its blade and turned to gaze at where the sounds were coming from.
All eyes were drawn to the horizon as a third roar called out. A dozen hulking figures were racing toward them. As tall as bears up on their hind legs and with thick black fur covering virtually every inch of their bodies, they were running at a truly astonishing speed. The Vrykol and the humans looked utterly perplexed.
“What the hell are those?” asked Jayden.
No one replied. The elves were seemingly just as confused about the creatures as their foes.
The enemy rapidly turned to form a new line of defense, not that it did them a scrap of good. Great clawed hands swiped them aside as if they were nothing more than blades of tall grass. The Vrykol hastily gathered in a small group well away from the initial fray, refusing to join their human allies. The newcomers’ savagery and strength were unlike anything Jayden could have imagined. But were they friends? Sayia was looking up at them while clutching at her wound, the pain on her face giving way to terror.
One of the Vrykol glanced over at Jayden, its eyes narrowed with spite. Then, as one, all five of them turned and fled. The remaining humans attempted to flee as well, but their attackers were far too quick, pummeling them to the sand with bone-shattering blows. I
t was over in less than a couple of minutes.
With the humans slain, the newcomers stood still and silent amongst the carnage they had created as if waiting for something. They had flat broad features and dark eyes. Jayden could now see that their fur was not matted or dirty, as he’d imagined, but surprisingly well kept, even giving off a light sheen in the heat of the sun.
Sayia was kicking at the ground in an effort to move away. He ran to her side, his eyes never leaving their strange rescuers. Her wound was severe and bleeding badly.
“Run,” she said through gritted teeth. “Leave me.”
Jayden stripped off his shirt and applied pressure to the wound. “I’m not leaving you.”
“The elf is dying,” said one of the creatures, its voice deep and guttural.
Both Jayden and Sayia looked up in astonishment.
“How does a Morzhash speak?” said Sayia.
The creature snarled, revealing a row of sharp fangs. “We come to save you, and receive insults in return?”
“She meant no offense,” Jayden hurriedly said. “Please, help her if you can.”
The giant figure reached into its fur, where a small pouch on a leather strap was concealed. This was tossed to the ground beside Sayia.
“Treat her wound with this. It will seal the flesh.”
Inside the pouch Jayden found a small phial of blue liquid. With the opened phial in one hand, he gently removed his folded-up shirt from Sayia’s injury. This immediately produced a renewed heavy flow of blood. A moment later, her eyes fluttered. Desperate, and at a loss for what else to do, he simply emptied the entire contents of the phial directly onto the wound. With a hiss, steam rose up. Sayia let out an ear splitting scream, and her head thrashed about wildly.
Horrified, Jayden looked up. “What have you done to her?” he demanded.
“We have saved her life,” the creature replied calmly. “The wound was deep, but the pain will pass.”
The Godling Chronicles Page 23
