The Losteroans will sweep in as a second wave of attack with the more skilled hand-to-hand combat soldiers of the Perscesian forces while the Starborn stormriders and Perscesian Legion set the world ablaze from the skies. Andromeda and her birth father Ajax will lead the Legion while Octavia will guide the stormriders.
“Octavia, it’s time,” Octavia’s second, Imelda appears at her side.
“I’m coming,” Octavia tells her. Squeezing Thane’s shoulder she says, “I’ll see you after this is all over.”
“Be safe,” he tells her.
❖
Daegan
“I don’t like this,” Daegan makes a point of telling Andromeda as they both tighten their leathers and attach their weapons. With two broadswords strapped to his back, daggers and throwing stars attached to his belt and his netgun loaded in his right hand Daegan is prepared for everything except letting Andromeda fly off into the night without his protection.
“You worry too much,” Andromeda rolls her eyes. “I have the Legion at my back, Ajax and my sisters on either side of me, and an untamable draco mare beneath me. And that’s not even to mention the arsenal strapped to my body. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m just saying that Carina has not thought this through,” Daegan shakes his head angrily, “putting her three eldest heirs in harm’s way.”
“This is war Daegan,” Andromeda reminds him. “I’m a born warrior, not a piece of fine whale bone china to be protected behind glass.”
It’s true, standing before him in her fighting leathers with a quiver strapped to her back, a bow anchored to her hip, her own loaded netgun sheathed at her waist and her aquaswift sword in her hand and her hair blowing in the light breeze as the lightning in the sky illuminates the scars covering her face the princess looks more than capable of taking care of herself. And yet Daegan’s heart feels like it’s lodged in his throat every time he thinks of her soaring into the storm and through the sky above and leaving herself exposed to the soldiers below while he’s packed into a horde of rushing soldiers and slaves racing into battle.
“But it’s my duty…” Daegan tries to remind Andromeda that he is her guard but she cuts him off.
“This isn’t about your duty or Carina or any of the excuses you keep telling me,” Andromeda snaps. “This is about you and me. It’s all been about you and me, ever since you freed me from the Warrior dungeon and took me aboard your ship. You like me and it scares you. Admit it.”
❖
Andromeda
When Andromeda reaches her draco mare, Jidhu, and the Legion her beast’s snout is a mess of blood and entrails as he snacks on the remains of a giant squid.
Leaping from the rocks to the beast’s back she strokes his scaly neck and murmurs, “Just don’t let me fall, okay?”
Jidhu snorts and nuzzles her with his massive head.
Ajax nudges his draco mare alongside Andromeda and Jidhu with Ceti flanking his other side.
“Ready?” Ajax eyes her warily as Andromeda fights to keep her hands steady on her mount’s reins. Jidhu’s scaly hide, slick from the steady rainfall beating down like tiny pebbles, makes it hard for Andromeda to hang on under Ajax’s scrutiny.
“Let’s do this,” Andromeda nods after steadying her racing heart. Renewed determination floods through her because despite all of the distance and misunderstanding between them, Andromeda wants Ajax to be proud of her.
The Legion riders fall in with Octavia and the stormriders and the Losteroan leader astride his massive crow-like beast as they coast over the Warrior camp. The moon goddess, Lunaria hides tonight, giving them ample coverage as they sink into the valley to remain undetected.
Despite the thousands of riders and beasts the night is eerily quiet, like the land itself is holding its collective breath. Not even a hare scuttles in the brush and tree cover below.
As they near the enemy camp the Legion and the Stormriders split off, forming a circle around the tents below.
Andromeda finds herself alongside Octavia as they dive close enough for their mounts to set the camp ablaze.
“It’s too quiet,” Andromeda remarks as she frowns at the silent camp.
“Aye,” Octavia nods and shakes out her hands nervously, “the camp looks... dead.”
“I don’t like this,” Andromeda whispers.
Ajax dives down deep as his draco mare’s maw snaps open spreading a stream of fire around the perimeter of the camp. Andromeda nods nervously at Octavia and digs her knees into her mount’s hide, following Ajax’s lead as the sky becomes a blur of diving and hissing beasts setting fire to the tents.
As Andromeda kicks her mount upward a feeling of unease percolates in the pit of her stomach. Not a single Vacantian soldier streams from the flickering seams of the canvas tents. Certainly the smoke could not have killed the soldiers in so short an exposure?
A cry pierces the air as a Stormrider and its’ Starborn rider fall from the sky, the beast’s side riddled with arrows and another sticking out from the rider’s eye socket as they both flicker between solid and incorporeal.
As Andromeda’s mount wisely flaps his wings to carry them up, up out of range of flying arrows Andromeda locates writhing figures dashing out from the tree line opposite the direction the rest of her allies should be coming from.
The Vacantian soldiers were never in their tents at all. All this planning and they’d already been two steps ahead.
❖
Thane
At the moment when the screams of warriors dying and the shrieking of their winged beasts falling fill the air Thane is sandwiched between a mountain of a Perscesian man with eight tentacles instead of arms — each tentacle armed with a sword, an axe, a strange shooting contraption, a mace, a curved dagger, and two tentacles readying a bow with a third toting a quiver - and a Losteroan boy looking scared to death before the fight has even begun.
But when those screams fill the air, the screams of their friends, family, and allies and a sickening silence briefly falls over the amassed soldiers as they realize something has gone horribly wrong the landscape turns to chaos as Warriors, soldiers, assassins and more charge forward pushing and shoving anyone not quick enough to get out of their way. Thane finds himself being pushed forward in the onslaught, his feet moving not of his own accord as he bobs over the ground along with the octopus man and the frightened boy.
His first thought upon hearing the scream is of Octavia, then of Andromeda, both soaring high above hopefully far from harm’s way.
As the mob crests the edge of the valley and come upon the Vacantian soldier camp with their tents and wagons ablaze it becomes apparent to Thane that it was the soldiers who ambushed the riders above and that his allies never had the element of surprise at all.
A Perscesian man lies splattered in a pool of blood on the ground beside his draco mare mount, the beast littered with no fewer than nine arrows sticking up from its’ scaly hide.
Vacantian soldiers are spread out everywhere. A group arranged in an oval in the center of the camp loose arrows into the sky with alarmingly accurate aim toward the Legion and Riders swooping and darting out of the way above. Others are already clashing swords with Perscesian foot soldiers, Warriors, and members of the Order.
The scent of copper and death hangs heavy in the air as blood and rain saturate the already muddy earth. Splatters of mud and muck blur the lines of ally and enemy before Thane’s eyes as warriors race into battle around where he stands frozen.
Snapping out of his haze, Thane draws his aquaswift sword and a dagger from his belt and dives into the fray, his sword sparking off the broadsword of a Vacantian soldier. The soldier slashes through the sleeve of Thane’s protective suit drawing a thin river of blood and a shooting pain through Thane’s arm but he feigned to the left and pivoted back to drive his dagger into the unprotected side of the soldier’s throat. He yanked the blade free as the soldier crumpled to the ground.
Thane took down two more soldiers, leaving them dead
or dying in the mud as he darted to avoid the streams of draco mare and stormrider fire charring the ground black and incinerating soldiers where they stood.
The hair on the back of Thane’s neck stirred, alerting him to a presence too close for comfort. There was no reaction time, no time to do anything but turn a quarter turn toward the bulky soldier whose sword was about to claim his life. His heart leapt to his throat, his stomach bottomed out and he felt like he was about to throw up. He had resolved himself that he may not survive this war, but thinking such thoughts while in the safety of your own bed far from danger is another thing from being seconds from going from of this world to not. Thane closed his eyes.
But the blade never came. Instead Thane cracked his eyes open as the bulky man fell to the ground before him, his head rolling down the hill away from his body. The Perscesian guard that always seemed to be at Andromeda’s side stood behind the fallen soldier, his sword dripping with fresh blood. He looked at Thane and nodded slightly before turning back in time to cut down a female Vacantian soldier angling for him.
❖
Daegan
Daegan left the stupefied Watierai Warrior General standing dumbly in the middle of the chaos as he joined his fellow Perscesians in helping to hold off the onslaught of Vacantian soldiers. He’d helped the man for Andromeda’s sake, but it was up to him to keep himself alive from here on.
Daegan’s people were doing remarkably well for beings not used to being in battle. A fair share of the men and women around him were scientists, doctors, scholars — who had shed their daily lives to finally, finally earn equality with the other kingdoms.
Serpane was a killing machine in the field. The advantage of having six extra arms with which to hold an assortment of weapons meant he could cut down more soldiers in half the time. Daegan followed in his wake picking off the ones that he missed.
Every few minutes Daegan’s attention shifted to the sky hoping for a glimpse of the Princess to know that she was still up there, still safe. But with the rain beating down and the darkness of the clouds in the background Daegan couldn’t tell one silhouetted rider from the next.
He just had to make it through this battle and hope that Andromeda would be healthy and whole waiting to scowl at him at the end of it all.
❖
Cygni
Cygni shifted his weight awkwardly as he waited atop the hill listening to the sounds of his allies dying. It was like a vision from a nightmare; blood and mud everywhere, bodies strewn across the field.
“We’re winning, Your Majesty.” Lester comments as he shifts his stance beside him. “Despite their sneak attack, the Vacantian soldiers are dropping like flies at our feet.”
“There’s still many of our men and women falling at their hands,” Cygni observes.
“This is war, Your Majesty,” Lester pats his shoulder. “Blood will be shed on both sides. We can only regroup and hope that in the end their losses outnumber our own.”
“I should be down there,” Cygni’s hand clenches and unclenches around the hilt of his sword. “A king is supposed to lead his people.”
“What kind of King will you be if you die in the first battle?” Lester asks. Then softening his tone he adds, “your time will come, Majesty. For now, it is best if you stand at the sidelines and strategize.”
❖
Octavia
Octavia’s stomach clenched as she peered down at the carnage and chaos playing out on the ground. From atop her stormrider several hundred feet from the ground she couldn’t tell which side was winning or which side was suffering the greater losses. It was impossible to know if her friends were still alive and fighting.
Her second and third flanked her, following her every move. When her mount spread fire across the field, her shadows were right behind her adding to her flame.
Some of her Starborn riders circled closer to the ground, projecting themselves into the minds of their enemies and showing them their worst nightmares. It wouldn’t kill them exactly, but it would give Octavia’s allies time to cut them down while they were in their dazed state.
Her sisterhood mingled among the Perscesian Legionnaires coasting through the skies and every now and then Octavia got a glimpse of Andromeda clinging fast to her draco mare’s slippery hide.
They’d been lucky, so far the assembled aerial fleet’s losses had been minimal. But the battle raged on below.
❖
Thane
Thane’s arm was sore and he was splattered with blood from head to toe. His training had not prepared him for open warfare. After all, he’d been training to hunt Perscesians who often came ashore alone, or with one other at the most.
He was sure that the battle was coming to a head. The Vacantians suffered great losses this night. Their camp was a charred mess. Their backup had yet to arrive.
Thane tried to do a head count to see how many Vacantian soldiers still fought and how many more his allies had to overpower to declare victory and gather prisoners. He didn’t realize how close to the edge of the valley he’d wandered. He knew nothing of the assassins hidden in tall grasses trained to be as silent as the dead.
That is, until two hooded men cornered him and bashed him atop the head before dragging his limp body out of sight.
Chapter 23
Andromeda
Everywhere you looked there was blood and gore. Bodies strewn across the hillside and the valley, some whole while others were scorched or torn limb from limb. If this is what war looks like Andromeda wondered why she grew up dreaming of joining the Watierai Warriors. Why she picked up a sword at all.
Andromeda nearly lost the contents of her stomach as she came across a Vacantian soldier whose innards were spilling out onto the muddy ground as the rain washed his blood away.
Her side had lost its share of soldiers, warriors, and riders but it was nothing compared to the Vacantian soldiers. Not a single soul had been spared, not even one messenger to be sent back to Lyra or the marching army heading this way that the army that Cygni had raised would not go down easily. That was the way Cygni wanted it but it didn’t soothe Andromeda’s queasiness any.
“Do you see anyone we know?” Octavia asked breathlessly as she linked arms with Andromeda.
Andromeda peered across the field, “Cutter and Castor still stand, though Castor is tending to a gash on Cutter’s right bicep.”
They passed them and Octavia reached down to squeeze Cutter’s shoulder. “I see a man with eight arms, I assume he’s one of yours?”
“Aye,” Andromeda nodded as she followed Octavia’s line of vision. The octopus-armed man was picking through the debris of corpses but other than a few scrapes seemed whole. Daegan stood beside him looking dwarfed compared to the larger man.
The sight of Daegan released a pressure around Andromeda’s heart that she hadn’t noticed forming going into battle. She wanted to race across the field, not caring if she tripped over bodies or innards, so she could throw her arms around him but her pride stopped her. Andromeda wasn’t a damsel designed to fall at the feet of good-looking saviors no matter how pleased she was to see he was healthy and whole.
“Do you see Thane anywhere?” Octavia squeezed Andromeda’s forearm painfully as she slid to a stop.
“Um,” Andromeda scanned the hillside, then the valley floor and the cluster of soldiers and warriors amassed around Cygni. “No, but perhaps Prince Cygni knows where he is?”
“I’ll go find out,” Octavia slipped away moving quickly through the injured and those reconnecting and rejoicing with their friends and loved ones.
“Are you all right?” Daegan asks as he sneaks up behind Andromeda.
Startled she whips around nearly knocking foreheads with Daegan.
“I’m fine,” Andromeda cringes at the breathlessness in her voice. “Are you okay? You look okay. I mean, you look unhurt. Unharmed. I’m just going to quit talking now.”
Daegan smirks and Andromeda notices a thin cut through his left eyebrow, “Y
ou were worried about me, huh?”
Andromeda scoffs, “No. I mean, I’m glad you’re still around so that I can push your buttons.”
“Of course,” Daegan crosses his arms over his bare chest. “I’m sure that’s the only reason.”
Octavia shatters the moment as she rushes over and announces, “He’s gone.”
“What?” Cutter overhears her and steps closer with Castor and Rian on his heels. “Who’s gone?”
“Thane,” Octavia sounds rattled. “He’s not with Cygni and he’s not among our dead and I can’t find him anywhere.”
“Calm down,” Cutter puts a reassuring hand on Octavia’s shoulder. “We’ll find him. He has to be around here somewhere.”
“Cutter’s right,” Andromeda wraps her arms around Octavia. “We’ll all look.”
❖
Lyra
A young man in filthy clothing with a burlap sack concealing his face is forced to his knees before Lyra’s throne.
Her reptilian smile casts a spell over the two Shroudanian soldiers flanking the prisoner, “What have you brought me?”
“As you desired,” the soldier on the prisoner’s right gestures as his partner yanks the sack from the prisoner’s head.
The prisoner is young, no older than twenty. His long black hair hangs limp and disheveled. His violet eyes are rimmed with purpling bruises from the punches he received while trying to escape his captors. But in his eyes remains a fiery spark of determination, unwilling to yield and admit defeat.
“General Cruelseas, we meet again,” Lyra drags a razor-sharp nail down the prisoner’s cheek leaving a thin red line in her wake. “All I asked of you was to do your sworn duty and you denied me. You’ve been a naughty boy.”
Monsters & Mist Page 31
