by James Dale
“To aid the Khan,” Cilidon added. “Every Spellweaver I have will take the forces of Amorhad and Caladin into the Stream of Time and into the mountains above them. They will clear out any who might await in ambush, then fall on the defenders trapped between the mountains and the Kadinar.”
“It will be glorious,” the Khan smiled.
“When the way is cleared,” Theros concluded, “we will leave behind only enough of our army only to ensure no hidden re-enforcements may fall in behind us. The remainder of our forces will make all haste to Agash Thugar. If Yh smiles upon us, we will catch our foe unprepared and fall upon them while they are encamped.”
“And if they are ready for us?” asked Jack. “If the combined might of Forhein, Minbrad, Duinlor and all the grim’Hiru he has mustered are arrayed for battle?”
“We will do what we must to destroy them,” Cilidon shrugged. “We brought no siege engines because Agash Thugar and its wall were not raised of simple stone. They were raised by the power of the Bloodstone. When, not if, we break through the Iron Tower’s defenders, Yhswyndyr, aided by the Staffclave, Siegebreaker and the other Highswords, will breach the walls.”
“And throw down the Tower or open a path inside,” High Lord Perigaen added. “Which-ever is required. We will not fail you High King.”
“Do you approve of this plan, Beloved?” Annawyn asked.
Braedan knew it would cost lives, knew many thousands of lives. Which would be easier for his soul to bear, to die if Mullah Khan’s plan failed and leave the Whesguard at the mercy of the Bloodstone, or to see the flower of the west lay slaughtered on the field of battle and the Blood-stone destroyed? The soldiers of Imperial Japan followed a code called the Imperial Script. A part of it proclaimed, “Duty is heavier than a mountain. Death is as light as a feather.” Truer words were never spoken. Jack knew his duty, the reason he had been born, was to destroy the Bloodstone. Nothing else mattered. If not even a single man or Ailfar survived this battle, the Whesguard would have peace so long as the dark-King was defeated. He may die of a broken heart after, but his soul would rest in peace if he accomplished his task.
“I do,” Jack replied quietly. “God forgive me, I do.”
“Then Kadin will ride within two hours,” Mullah ad’Jhen nodded.
“The White Horse will follow an hour later,” Sir Gain assured him.
“And all of Doridan’s cavalry with them,” Duke Morgan added.
“The remainder of the army will march before sunrise,” General Tolkaen informed the room. “Agreed?”
“Agreed,” the assembled council nodded.
Jack took Anna’s hand, and the pair retired to their pavilion. Without conscience thought, he bid Shadow and Star to remain outside. Both wolves took up position at the entrance to the tent to dissuade any who would interrupt their charges. Wordlessly, he began to undress his wife. Her eager hands were swift to aid him. They made love, and afterward he simply held her, soaking in the feel of her body against his, the smell of her, and the sound of her gentle breathing. If…if things went badly, it might be the last time ever he would hold her. Though a battle loomed that would spell life or death for all he held dear, it was the most peaceful sleep he’d had in ages. It was still two hours before sunrise when they awoke and Anna assisted him in donning his armor.
“You will not stay behind?” he tried one last time.
“Wherever you ride, wherever you go,” his wife said quietly, “Whatever happens. I will be at your side.”
Braedan started to speak, but he couldn’t find the words to express the love in his heart. He would kill the dark-King and destroy the Bloodstone. Or he would die trying. He kissed his wife and they exited their tent, praying it would not be the last moment they would share on this side of heaven.
“Little Star,” Braedan beamed. “Do not leave Fire Mane until this is finished. She is more precious to me than life.”
“Fire Mane and the cub growing inside her will come to no harm Great Lion,” the she wolf vowed confidently. “I swear it by Tooth and Claw and on the blood of all my Pack who have passed into the Wolf Dream.”
“Wolf brother of Long Tooth Shadow Hunter, I will protect you with tooth and claw and my own life,” Cloud Shadow vowed. “By the blood of all my Pack who have passed into the Wolf Dream, I will get you to Red Slayer unharmed.”
Squire Darnol arrived not soon after, leading Eaudreuil and Iraesh. Anna’s mount nuzzled her affectionately. Eaudreuil regarded him with a stern look. “You will not send me away Horse-brother,” he informed him. “Not if dragons or Ghomari or Red Slayer himself assails you.”
“I will not,” Jack assured the roan as he mounted. “Until this is done, we fight as one. Darnol Elldoran,” he said, addressing the young man. “You have served me well. If I could do it without bringing shame to your house, I would release you from my service and spare you this madness.” He raised his hand to stave off the protest he could see forming on the young man’s lips, even in the predawn gloom. “But I will not. God forgive me. Carry my banner well. It will be a lightning rod for death and hell. See it flies with honor and if we live to see this finished, you will be admitted to the Tower and given your chance to earn a place with the White Horse if you still wish. On my oath. If not, you will have a place in the Hammer or the Lions or any other posting you desire.”
“I will serve my king in whatever manner he desires,” Darnol vowed.
They were an hour from the camp before the sun had crested the horizon in the east. It was well they had not delayed. Not long into their “chase” of the “fleeing” Kadinar, a dragon was spotted high in the sky, circling above them. Seeing the Kadinar pursued, it swooped down like a winged mountain at the White Horse Knights a league behind them. Blue fire rose up to meet it from Lord Laek and Lord Shaeron, who were riding with knights, convincing the beast not to come any closer. It continued to circle at a safe distance for several hours before flying off again to the east. It was not long before another took its place to resume watch, though it did not tempt the Lord’s fire again.
It was a difficult ruse to maintain. The Kadinar, though their mounts were hardy and desert bred, would have been no match for force pursuing them on Val’anna. Not without the events staged to convince the dark-King’s dragons and any other watchers the White Knights were continually delayed. General Malik’s idea every hour or so, of a detachment of Kadinar to turn and offer “resistance” seemed to be working as planned. If not for the direness of the situation, their mock battles would have been comical. White Knights and Kadinar pretending to fight each other was simply, unnatural. After each engagement, debris was left on the field, cloaks and spears and even “fallen” warriors and horses. From afar, the rider watching from his dragon mount would see only the Kadinar fought bravely, and report back they were succeeded in delaying their pursuers for the moment. When the following bulk of the Braedan’s army swallowed the scene of the battle an hour later, the “fallen” Kadinar and White Horse knights disappeared from view, melting into the ranks of the Whesguardians.
As the sun began to set in the west, the first foothills of the Margalags appeared. Here the army of the Whesguard implemented the second phase General Malik’s devious plan. Under the cover of darkness, A’randrial and Cilandrion took the warriors of Caladin and Amorhad and Snow Dancer’s pack into the Stream of Time. It pushed the limits of the twin’s powers, despite being aided by a dozen more Ailfar Spellweavers apiece, to move such a large force even over such a short distance, but a mist soon formed on the outer edges of the army of the west. When it dissipated, their force had been reduced by almost eight thousand men and Ailfar. It was hoped in the gathering darkness, their absence would go unnoticed until it was too late to make a difference.
The Kadinar entered the foothills of the Margalags just before midnight. Mullah ad’Jhen sent a company of riders ahead, in search of the force they expected to be waiting for them in the narrow confines of the plain leading into Grethor. When en
countered, they would relay the Great Khan’s army was approaching, pursued by the western forces. They would also beg them to move aside to let the Khan pass. By now, defenders in the pass would know or speculate the army of grim’Hiru sent into the Bergaweld had suffered defeat. The Kadinar would confirm the fact, and inform them Strymag the Souleater had also been slain. Hopefully it would demoralize the force blocking the way into Grethor, as well as hasten them to let the Khan pass.
A Kadinar rider galloped up to their formation just before sunrise. A Hammer sergeant escorted him to Braedan and he bowed, then have his report. “Men of Forhein guard the entrance to Grethor, High King. Ten thousand at least. Their general is an arrogant savage, but smart. He will make way, but requested my Khan leave half our army to aid them in the fight against our hated Whesguardian foes.”
“And what was the Khan’s reply?” asked Jack.
“He was livid at the outrageous request,” the Kadinar answered with a smile. “We have been battling the cursed Dora’dai for two days!” he snarled, in a fair imitation of the Mullah ad’Jhen. “The Khan agreed to leave five thousand behind. They will mill about in confusion and fear, despairing he has sentenced them to death. It will delay any hope they have of closing ranks again before your White Horse and Dora’dai cavalry are upon them.” the Kadinar laughed. “By the time the Forheinen bastard realizes our incompetence is not what it seems, your forces in the mountains will attack them from the flanks. They will be hopelessly surrounded and outnumber.”
“Will five thousand be enough?” Theros asked. He and Cilidon had ridden forward to hear the report of the scout.
“It will be enough,” the messenger nodded. “We are Kadinar. It will be a glorious slaughter.”
Glorious? Jack sighed inwardly at the Kadinar’s same echoed enthusiasm as his Khan regarding the killing to come. He had been trained to become a master at warfare, at killing, but he certainly did not enjoy it. Not anymore. That path had led to madness. The deaths of ten thousand Forheinen were regrettably necessary, but it would not be glorious. Braedan would mourn their deaths. They were slaves to the power of the Bloodstone as much as Bkormar had been and the grim’Hiru still were. They were to be pitied.
“Any who surrender will be given quarter,” Jack informed them.
“Forhein is not known for surrendering,” Cilidon informed him.
“General Tolkaen,” Braedan sighed.
“High King?” the Marshal of Brydium’s army replied.
“All deception ends now,” Jack said. “Infantry double time to the pass as quick as they can. Theros, Cilidon. Morgan. All mounted knights and everyone who rides, rides at greatest speed to the fight. Once the Khan is beyond the men of Forhein, he will be all alone. I will not leave him to face the dark-King unaided.”
“As you command, High King,” Tolkaen saluted, and galloped off.
“As you say,” Theros nodded.
As the sun rose, the path into Grethor was plainly visible. A tremendous dust cloud produced by the Kadinar and the pursuing Knights and cavalry, obscured his view and Jack swore under his breath. Sunheart answered his need. Power blossomed within him and the field sprang into view in his mind’s eye as if he were riding with the leading ranks of the Kadinar. The men of Forhein had opened a path for the Kadinar almost two miles wide. They had split their force in two, half to the north and half to the south against the craggy foothills of the Margalags. The Kadinar rode through the gap, never slowing as five thousand mounted warriors dropped from their ranks to “aid” the men of Forhein, when in actuality they now had them trapped against the mountains. They were fierce men, akin to the north men of Caladin and Amorhad. Dressed in furred cloaks even in the late summer, they wore spiked helms, and carried wooden shields and long handled, double bladed axes. Their faces were painted, white and black, like skeletal death masks. An air of menace and violence hung over them like a dark cloud.
Braedan still pitied them.
Filled with Sunheart, Jack could hear shouts of alarm rise from the ranks of the men of Forhein. The White Horse Knights and the Doridanian cavalry were closer than the Kadinar had reported. Their despair became panic when snarling wolves, and axe wielding northmen of Caladin and Amorhad suddenly swarmed down from the mountains, supported by the uncannily accurate fire of Ailfar archers. The sound of battle filled the air. The cries of the wounded even louder than the rumble of hoof-beats.
Feeling as if he were a part of the fighting, Jack urged Eaudrueil into a gallop. The Val’anna sprang forward, his hooves barely seeming to touch the ground. He was vaguely aware of Anna’s horrified cry and the stream of angry curses from Borg Cassaban.
“Flaming hell!” the Golden Lion’s commander swore desperately, reaching Braedan on the very edge of the raging battle. “Stop, my Lord!”
“Stop!” commanded the Queen of Doridan, her eyes flashing emerald fire as she joined them with Siegebreaker drawn. Filled with the Highsword’s power, her shout was like thunder and finally succeeded in breaking through his battle haze. Braedan reluctantly reigned Eaudrueil back as the High King’s Hammer, Anna’s Horsemaidens, and his Golden Lions once again surrounded him in a protective ring of steel.
The Galekindar, with Tarsus in the lead, swept by them, charging into the press of men to forge a path through the battle. The dead of Forhein littered the field, but they were joined by a great number of Kadinar. The easterners were fierce and hardy fighters and they did not submit, though they were now hopelessly outnumbered and their blocking action had failed. A snarling Forheinen warrior, his death mask face covered in blood, rose suddenly on Jack’s left, howling defiantly as he raised his battle ax to strike. An arrow from some unseen Ailfar archer took him in the throat before Braedan could unsheathe Yhswyndyr to defend himself.
Then they were suddenly beyond the battle and riding unopposed into Grethor. The sun had risen now behind angry red clouds still boiling from Mount Sheol, and the surrounding lands became painfully visible. It was barren and desolate, even more stark and foreboding than the Bloody Plains before it had been cleansed of its ill aura. Thorny scrubs somehow managed to cling precariously to life in the rocky, thin soil. How anything grew at all in this cursed land was a testament to the overwhelming life-force that filled creation and its ability to defy even the darkness of the Bloodstone. In the distance, rising five hundred feet into sky like a dark finger stabbing defiantly at the heavens, stood Agash Thugar.
He had made it to the Iron Tower at last, but all the forces of the east were assembled before it.
Chapter Thirty-one
Burden of Stones
Surrounding the Iron Tower was encamped the entire might of the east. Forhein, Minbrad, Duinlor, and other far flung lands drawn from beyond the edge of known maps had answered the dark-King’s call to war. Their armies stretched across the valley floor. Braedan could not imagine the number of men who had come at the dark-King’s summons. The high walls of the Iron Tower were ringed with a sea of steel and men and horse. Wolves, na’Ghomari and other fell beasts roamed among them. The combined might of the grim’Hiru race occupied the center of the valley, Beast-men of Gogard, Morgar, and Rhogoland. The loss of Garhon in the March of Peril, and the army of thirty thousand Graith had sent to the Bergaweld was a pittance compared to the army still at his command.
“High King,” Hamman Khan shouted, riding back to join him. “Mullah ad’Jhen wishes to ride into battle while our deception remains undiscovered. What is your command?”
Braedan had to resist the urge to summon Sunheart to fight away the despair that filled him at the sight of the dark-King’s army. Would even Yhswyndyr be strong enough to fight his way through the force Graith had summoned? Would Dragonslayer and Grimblade and Siegebreaker and all the Staffclave be enough to hold them back as he made his way to the Iron Tower’s walls? Even with the army of Kadinar added to their number, the Whesguard barely equaled the force arrayed before them. Whether he succeeded or failed, in the next few hours, this valley woul
d be filled with corpses and the ground would run red with rivers of blood.
“Your command, my lord?” Hamman asked again.
“I am going to die today,” Jack realized suddenly. He could feel the certainty of it like it was breeze on his face, or a half remembered song filling his head. Braedan had known for some time his survival in a battle against the Bloodstone was not guaranteed, but it was only now he under-stood his death was…required. It was the last hidden knowledge revealed to him by Sunheart. Since their formation, a link had existed between Bloodstone and Sunheart. Light and dark needed each other to exist. One could not survive without the other. They had been spoken into existence with the same breath of Yh. He and Graith, dark and light, filled with the power of the God-stones, would not survive without the other. To kill the dark-King, he would have to become Sunheart. No more filling himself with its power, he would have to merge his essence completely with the stone of Yh’Adan.
It was the only way to destroy the Bloodstone.
Destroying it would also destroy Sunheart and end his own life. Had Ljmarn know this would be his end, and held it from him during the Elohara? Had keeping that knowledge secret been the only way to ensure he would arrive at this point? “You must finish what I could not.” Ljmarn had said to him. Would he be here at the gates of Aghash Thugar if he had known? The point was moot. He was here now. He could finish what Ljmarn would not or could not, or he could turn his army around and ride away and hope to find some other way for the west to survive when Graith march his own army east.
“Your command, my Lord?” Hamman asked for a third time.
He couldn’t ride away. Mullah Khan and the Kadinar were almost to the grim’Hiru flank. Turning away now would ensure their destruction at the hands of a vengeful dark-King. “So be it,” Jack sighed. His own life might be forfeit today, but Braedan would not waste the lives of those who followed him needlessly. Sunheart filled him. He cast his farsighted gaze to the arrayed forces of the dark-King’s army and sought how to save as many lives as he could. “Tell Mullah Khan to swing the Kadinar north of the grim’Hiru center, Hamman. But do it slowly. Be ready to strike their flank when we attack. Use the bulk of your army to hold the forces on the left against the mountains if possible. For as long as you can.”
