The war-priests took over his place on the platform, and as Rogan stepped away, the impression he was seeing Saffron alive for the last time seized him. The captain edged hopefully closer, but seemed less confident now that the priests had taken over. Rogan distanced himself from the crowd, backing toward the main gate, though he was at least twenty long strides from it. His hands migrated to the hilts of his weapons, and the sweat that started on his climb up the Tower of a Thousand Stairs returned, beading his face.
He couldn’t be certain the entire Imperial presence of the prison had gathered, but the assembly had swelled to at least a hundred. A few silhouettes still dotted the wall, and no doubt a handful of uninterested stragglers remained inside the fortress, but the audience was surely near capacity.
Given their helmets, it was difficult to tell where the priests were looking, but they flanked Saffron, and the silence of anticipation spread through the crowd. The priests, however, were not the next to raise their voices.
Saffron raised her arms and sang out in a powerful, moving voice, shocking the entire Blackthorn contingent. Her lyrics flowed forth, indecipherable yet assertive, pouring over her in visible form. Bright orange and red streaks of light danced from her mouth over her body, wrapping her in a cocoon of energy. Not even Rogan knew what to think, but he alone had the sense to distance himself even further. The streaks grew thicker into tongues of flame, licking the surface of Saffron’s body without consuming her. Her voice grew bolder.
The crowd was mesmerized, captivated by the beauty of the magic before them, unsure of its purpose, unable to look away. Rogan realized they too must be haunted by the experience – he could still see the fire when he closed his eyes, and it continued to grow.
When Saffron was barely visible through the dancing flame she hit her crescendo, sending a nova of red-orange heat exploding across the platform. It scorched the war-priests as well as the first row of spectators, knocking them prone with its shock-wave. A few of the onlookers’ clothes, as well as the executioner’s block, caught fire.
Before the dumbstruck look melted off most of their faces, Palomar swooped down and landed between the platform and the guards, also singing. His angelic presence drew most of their attention – quite the feat, given what they just witnessed.
Saffron picked up her spear and shield and yelled at Rogan, “Go!”
Snapping to action, Rogan bolted for the gate. Even looking the opposite direction, he could sense the bright flash of Palomar’s blinding aura from the corner of his eye. He ran straight to the winch controlling the drawbridge. Drawing his saber, he pounded the lever stabilizing the counterweight with his spare hand. It shifted position and one stone fell, raising another on a pulley. He could hear the rapid descent of the heavy bridge beyond the gate, crashing to its final position within seconds.
The gate itself posed a more difficult obstacle. He had to pry the heavy support beam out of its brackets, a job meant for a man on each side. Sticking his saber into the ground, he laid his back against the gate and pushed his shoulders just under the beam.
Across the yard the guards had armed themselves and were pressing on Saffron and Palomar, who backed slowly toward him, trying to keep from being surrounded. No sign of the Order’s soldiers. He hoped they were able to maneuver through the mine without meeting resistance or becoming lost. His directions had been simple, but it could be difficult for the uninitiated to navigate the tunnels. He needed to get this infernal gate open so he could rejoin them.
As soon as he placed his hands wide and started pushing up on the beam, a black-feathered arrow pierced the gate with a chipping sound, mere inches below his left arm. It startled him and he dropped the beam back into place. The angle of the arrow indicated a shot from above, but he could not immediately find the location of the archer. Summoning all his strength, he roared and once again pushed upward. The beam budged, but started to tilt as he lifted higher, threatening to slip back on his right side. With a final effort he gripped the bottom of the beam and slid it away from the gate, then let go.
The wooden support fell to the ground, jostling from the impact in a series of vibrating thumps. The gate was unbarred. Rogan grasped a bracket on one side of the seam with both hands, leaning back to pull the gate open. The swoosh of another arrow brought a jolt of pain through his entire arm as it pierced beneath his left shoulder.
Through the crack between the separating gate doors he could see the mounted knights of the Order fast approaching. Palomar and Saffron were in dire need of reinforcements. Pushing on, Rogan concentrated on one side at a time, leaning his right shoulder to the outside of the door and groaning until it swung to an inward angle.
He moved to the other side and did the same, clearing the way just as the hooves of the horses struck the drawbridge. A thunder of hollow-ringing stamps echoed as the cavalry passed. Rogan fell to his knees, weary from the effort. He winced as he reached back to grasp the arrow, testing to see how deep it had gone. Not likely a fatal wound, he stood and unsheathed his dagger, knowing he would feel better once he removed the arrow and found an enemy to stab.
The entire ride from the beach to the grove where they hid, Jaiden felt like he was going to vomit from the excitement. Then came the waiting, which was excruciating. Once Palomar flew over the wall, however, signaling the start of the final charge, the uneasiness had all been worth it. At last, Jaiden felt the exhilaration of charging into battle on horseback.
With his shield upon his left arm and the reins is his hands, he placed his trust in Inferno, letting his steed’s training take over. A moment of worry snuck up when it looked like the gates might not open before they arrived, but once he saw them swinging inward the adrenaline took over and he drew his sword, ready to face whatever foes awaited inside that fortress.
Unlike the fight on the deck of the Riverdog two nights ago, there was plenty of space to maneuver, though his side was now the one outnumbered. The courtyard of the prison was a vast square of grainy earth, with sparse patches of grass struggling here and there. The enemy was concentrated ahead, hemming in the Order’s foot soldiers toward the far end of the yard. Sir Golddrake led their charge in that direction, but Jaiden peeled to the left when he spotted Saffron and Palomar facing grim odds in the northeast corner of the square.
They were surrounded by ten men, clad in mail and black cloaks. Even amid the cacophony of alarm bells, war-howls, hoof beats, and clanging weapons, Jaiden could make out Palomar’s singing. As Inferno brought him closer, he could see the blade of the Aasimar’s greatsword, crackling with white energy.
When Palomar swung and contacted an enemy’s sword, a peel of thunder rang as if lightning had struck, and the weapon flew from his opponent’s shocked hand.
Saffron followed with a cobra-quick thrust of her spear, impaling the suddenly defenseless man. Yet a pair of warriors circled behind her, and one swept the haft of his spear at her ankles, tripping her. As she fell to her knees, Jaiden pressed the flanks of his horse to hasten to her aid.
The second soldier behind Saffron brought his blade downward, though she managed to raise her shield and meet his blow. Jaiden let out a battle-cry and swung his sword. The man attacking Saffron heard and turned in time to see Jaiden bearing down on him, but not quickly enough to prevent being nearly cloven in two.
His fellow with the spear was likewise surprised and trampled by Inferno, who danced and leapt sideways to clear his feet from the entanglement of the man’s body, smashing him further in the process. The other nearby warriors backed slightly, possibly reassessing their tactics with the addition of a mounted opponent.
Jaiden was not waiting for them to figure out a new plan. He urged his steed into their midst and Palomar followed his lead, pushing them back with huge sweeps of his thundering sword. Saffron regained her feet, only to turn when the sound of chanting rose behind her, where the enemy had already been cleared.
One of the war-priests, a cudgel in one hand while the other clenched near hi
s chest, was standing fifteen paces away, channeling the dark power of his god. The midsection of his armor was charred black by Saffron’s fire-burst, and she strode forward to finish the job. She had only covered half the distance, however, when the priest kneeled and struck his hand against the ground.
A line of black, as if the earth was rapidly changing to ash, raced from his fist along a path toward Saffron. When it reached her legs they turned black as well, up past her knees, and Jaiden watched as she struggled to take another step. The war-priest finished chanting and stood, repeatedly slapping the head of his cudgel against his open palm as he stalked forward.
“Jaiden!” Saffron called, panic in her voice. “My legs – I cannot move my legs!”
Jaiden swiveled to strike once more at his opponent, but his blow was parried. He glanced over his shoulder again toward Saffron, who collapsed to her knees, nearly keeling over completely.
Palomar turned as well to see what was happening. “Go to her, I will hold them off.”
Jaiden nodded and yanked on the reins, causing Inferno to whinny and circle in Saffron’s direction. He galloped forward, but to make matters worse, an arrow arced from above, right on target with Saffron. She deflected it with her shield, but was still rooted in place by the war-preist’s spell.
Inferno interposed between Saffron and the war-priest, who halted his approach when Jaiden extended his sword. Looking back, Jaiden saw some of the enemy working beyond Palomar’s reach toward them. The Aasimar could not hold six men at bay simultaneously.
“Son of the Abyss,” Jaiden cursed and sheathed his sword. Inferno reared and struck out with his hooves when the priest took a step forward, causing him to rethink his advance. When his horse came down, Jaiden leaned over and stretched out his free arm to Saffron. She moved her spear to her shield hand and gripped his offered wrist as tightly as she could.
With all his strength, Jaiden yanked Saffron up onto Inferno’s back, directly behind him. He spurred his mount forward just as enemy reinforcements arrived, leaving them in a wake of dust and up-churned grass. With his friends safe, Palomar leapt into the air and flew to find where he was most needed.
“Thank you for saving me,” Saffron managed to say between deep breaths. “He used some dark magic.”
“I am only returning the favor,” Jaiden replied, happy for the opportunity. “Hold on!” he yelled as he turned his mount suddenly to avoid a pair of allies knocked into his horse’s path by a sonic blast, similar to the one that victimized him on the road from Greyhorne. “We have to do something about those war-priests!”
“The Dampers!” Saffron clutched him tightly around the waist to keep from falling, bringing her lips directly behind his left ear.
“What?” Jaiden heard her, but had no idea what she meant.
“Rogan said the Dampers absorbed the King-priest’s divine energy. There!” she pointed toward a doorway leading into the prison. The Order’s foot soldiers had spilled forth from it and were still nearby, shielding it from enemy troops. “See if you can get us to that entrance.”
Jaiden did not understand what Saffron had in mind, but he needed to reach a safer place to deposit her before rejoining the fight. He urged Inferno forward, weaving around the skirmishes taking place over most of the courtyard.
“The feeling is returning to my legs!” Saffron’s excitement nearly cost her place on the back of Jaiden’s horse as she released her grip to pinch her thigh, testing whether her impression was true. To prove it was, she sprung down from Inferno as they neared the open doorway, and quickly disappeared inside.
Jaiden trusted she knew what she was doing, and moved to rejoin Sir Golddrake. The cavalry was proving effective, and it seemed to Jaiden that the numbers on both sides were now almost even, granting the Order an overall advantage with their superior troops. Between their knights and Palomar, he assumed they should carry the day if they could only subdue the war-priests.
But Jaiden had not counted on the archers, either. It took time for them to coordinate and get into position, but nearly a dozen of them now moved along the outer wall, picking off the Order’s men wherever they found clear targets.
Palomar was hovering near the Master of the Order when Jaiden caught up. Two of the war-priests had taken up position on the execution platform, surrounded by guards to protect them as they invoked the power of the Dread Tyrant, Gholdur.
“We need to clear that platform,” Sir Golddrake yelled from behind his visored helm, struggling to be heard over the cries of several nearby allies suddenly doused with hot tar from above. “Are you with me?”
“We are,” Palomar responded for the group, quicker than any of the men could speak the words. With the completion of his thought an arrow, launched from an archer on the wall, struck Palomar in the abdomen. His flight faltered briefly, but it was enough for Jaiden to see the Aasimar was hurt. He had silently wondered whether his winged friend was actually invulnerable. An uncomfortable expression marred Palomar’s countenance, but vanished an instant later. “Perhaps I should deal with our enemies on the walls?”
“Of course, Palomar,” Sir Golddrake said. “Jaiden, come. You and Sir Kilborn with me. Hee-ya!” he spurred Bastion forward, and the nearby group of cavalry charged to the middle of the courtyard to take on the war-priests.
Some of the foot soldiers had gotten the same idea, tired of taking repeated losses from the corrupting power of Gholdur’s servants. Half-a-dozen of them moved purposefully in formation toward the platform, and closed before Jaiden and his contingent. They paid for their bravery.
Working in conjunction, the war-priests called down a column of bluish energy from the very air above their enemies. It smote all five of the soldiers, and as the column collapsed on itself a moment later, the bodies of those consumed lay motionless and smoldering in a smoking heap.
The sight was enough to halt Sir Golddrake’s charge. The riders all pulled back on their reins, horrified by what they had just witnessed, and afraid to suffer the same fate.
Jaiden Luminere defied their collective hesitation. “They still have to be stopped.”
Urging Inferno forward he drew his sword, intent on making the war-priests pay for their deeds. Two seconds later the others followed, muttering prayers to Criesha to spare them from a similar fate.
The priests turned their attention to the oncoming riders, and their protectors directed their shields toward the charge. Ominous chanting began anew, and the war-priests clasped one another’s hands to strengthen the focus of their channeling.
A sound like rushing air filled Jaiden’s ears as he closed on the platform. He glanced upward and saw a swirling vortex of blue energy about five body lengths above. He lifted his sword to strike the guard standing nearest the edge of the platform as he passed, hoping to at least take one out before turning into a pile of molten flesh.
The column of divine power rushed downward as before, but never reached Jaiden or his companions. Instead, it redirected sideways, like a cyclone leaping from one point to another. The blast of energy was pulled harmlessly to the Dampers, who Saffron had brought out to the courtyard from their cells. It enveloped them momentarily in a bright glow, before all trace of the column vanished.
Jaiden’s sword ripped through the legs of two guards, clanging off the shield of a third. He circled around to see Saffron charging an enemy soldier, leaping into the air and striking from an unexpected angle, as was common to her fighting style. The war-priests howled with rage, yelling orders for the Dampers to be dealt with.
It didn’t appear Saffron had considered their physical defenselessness. Jaiden watched as a band of black-clad soldiers broke off their attack on the Order’s infantry and hustled toward the spindly, mucus-covered creatures. Saffron would not be able to handle them all herself.
He looked back at the platform, where Sirs Golddrake and Kilborn, along with their vanguard, seemed to be giving the war-priests’ contingent all they could handle. Jaiden knew what he had to do. He u
rged Inferno to a gallop, trying to intercept those bound for the Dampers. He was nearly there when a black-feathered arrow lodged into his horse’s rump.
Inferno stumbled severely and the shift was enough to send Jaiden, already leaning forward, tumbling over the saddle and skidding violently to the sandy turf below. His body twisted as he fell, and his injured leg struck hard, re-breaking upon impact. A flash of white-hot pain erupted behind his eyes, and he shut them instinctively.
When he opened them again his pain was gone and he was among the clouds, staring into the face of the Goddess. He did not dare blink, lest she disappear and he lose these last, unspoiled moments before death.
“I have missed you.” Jaiden spoke plainly, honestly. He had no more interest in games.
Criesha did not blink either, and her deep, blue eyes bathed him in a look that brought comfort and arousal. He was filled with a longing to be consumed by her, until nothing of himself remained.
“You have grown, Jaiden Luminere. You finally fight for something besides your own glory, and have learned what it means to serve.”
“I want my life to mean something,” Jaiden admitted. “I want to be a part of something worth remembering, even if it is not remembered.”
Criesha smiled, and it filled him with joy. “So you shall, Jaiden Luminere, Champion of Criesha. You will be my vessel on your mortal world, and my companion in this one.”
The Goddess leaned closer, the green glow of her perfect skin washing over his face as her lips touched his. Jaiden closed his eyes and they kissed. As it deepened, he felt a surge of vigor beyond anything he could remember or even describe. He felt as if his muscles grew to twice their size, as if his lungs would swell out of his chest as he took in a new breath. Their kiss became even more passionate; tongues breached lips and swirled together, and he was sure he had gained the power to move mountains, were they to dare stand in his way.
The air around him quickened, until the breeze was so strong it enticed him to open his eyes to discover the cause. When he did the wind stopped, the clouds were gone, and so was Criesha. He was lying on the ground in the courtyard of Blackthorn Prison, and only a few heartbeats seemed to have passed while he was gone.
Shiver the Moon Page 30
