Bones of the Empire (70 page)

When the magic ended, five of the Turessians were dragging themselves to their feet—one of them Liris. The rest remained still. Dorralt had used living men and women as a trick, trying to hide their real numbers.

For several long minutes, Raeln held his ground as the last of the fighting behind him trailed off. When the last of the undead on the eastern side of the temple had fallen, all that lay between Raeln’s army and a set of large wooden doors were those five Turessians.

Raeln turned to assess his forces and found there were about a dozen Marakeer still standing, along with about half of the former slaves. Behind them, he could see a hundred Turessian spellcasters and archers. Everyone else had fallen back to tend to their wounds or lay dead. In the distance, he spotted the group of healers near where he had left Ceran, with Somn fetching supplies for them. It made Raeln feel somewhat better to know Somn had managed to keep himself alive even that long.

In the sky, Raeln easily spotted the three—no, four—dragons circling in wide arcs to lead the mists’ breaches far from the armies on the ground. As much as he wanted gods at his side, what they were doing was far more important than fighting. They were buying him the time to fight for them.

Returning his attention to the Turessians, Raeln saw they had actually fortified the long lines of ditches with not just spikes, but a shimmering wall that ran as far as he could see in either direction. At first he thought it to be a solid barrier, but the more he stared at it, the more he thought it to be the wavering of heat…There was something waiting for the first of his troops to try to cross the ditch.

Raeln checked on Dalania, finding that she remained right behind the Marakeer, her eyes still glowing as she stared blankly at the temple.

Taking a deep breath, Raeln thought to shout for the army to march—hoping his wizards could deal with whatever was ahead of them—but as he took in air, he knew what he had to do. The Turessians under Dorralt’s control were so determined to eradicate his people, to crush everything wild, that he only had one way he could think of calling the final charge.

Raeln let out his best howl the way Greth had taught him, dragging the cry out as long as he could, letting the sound echo off the walls of the temple. Before he trailed off, the Marakeer had joined in with their own bestial calls. The orcs shouted deep-throated roars. One by one, even the Turessians began their own bellows. This was no longer about organized battle or leadership. Now they were the animals Dorralt had long taught his people to hate and fear. There was no language to be found anywhere in the cries that came from Raeln’s army.

The calls had exactly the desired effect. The four Turessians with Liris looked nervous, with two of them inching away toward the doors of the temple. Whether they were immortal or not, Raeln’s army had them concerned. That was enough to tell Raeln that these creatures could be killed. There would be a way. Nothing truly immortal could possibly fear them.

Raeln walked quickly toward the Turessians, smiling grimly as they shifted their position to use the rows of wooden spikes as protection. He pushed on faster, refusing to let them see any fear from him, despite the shimmering wall of heat getting closer with each step.

Flashes of magic erupted from behind Raeln, slamming into the wall. Some passed through and were easily dispatched by the Turessians, but most of the spells crashed into the barrier, making it waver and shudder. By the time Raeln and the Marakeer reached the ditch, the wall was gone, leaving only the spikes to slow them.

The Marakeer doubled their pace as soon as the wall fell, forcing Raeln to run to keep up. While dangerous, the spikes were easily navigated, with the obvious intention that they would give the Turessians time to attack anyone approaching. Instead, the Marakeer uprooted the spikes as they went and hurled them like spears at the Turessians.

Though he tried not to look at them while running, Raeln could see the five Turessian men and women casting spells. He had another thirty feet to cover before he could reach them, and nowhere to avoid anything that came at him.

Magic exploded above the long trenches, pummeling Raeln and the others with shards of ice, falling embers, and the scent of a storm, though nothing hit them directly. As Raeln slid between the spikes in the ditch, he glanced up. For every spell coming from the temple, twice as many were coming from his army. Spell after spell crashed into magic that had been hurled for no purpose other than to stop it. The Turessians could not keep up with the sheer number of wizards in Raeln’s army, and they were running out of time.

Breaking free of the last row of wooden spikes with little more than a thin slice across his ribs, Raeln ran up the other side of the trench with Marakeer all around him and Dalania right at his tail. They came up the rise and nearly crashed into a long line of small whirlwinds that remained in one place, man-sized columns of flame, and lumbering mounds of stones. For every person Raeln had brought through the trench, there were easily four of the magical creations that had not been there a minute before.

The Turessians had created an army of elementals.

Raeln rushed at the nearest elemental, trying to reach it before the mindless embodiment of stone could react. His sword glanced off its rock “skin,” throwing off Raeln’s balance. The Marakeer appeared to be faring little better in his peripheral vision, their claws either unable to tear through the stone elementals, or the flame and winds of the others forcing them to retreat. Weapons would be far more valuable than claws and the wrong weapons would do little to these creatures.

“Creatures made from my blood and bone,” Dalania cried, shoving Raeln aside with the strength of a Marakeer, “turn on those holding you in this world! I release your bonds!”

The entire line of elementals reversed direction and rushed at the Turessians. It took only seconds for the Turessians to tear the elementals apart with the same magic that had created them. But doing so bought Raeln and the others time to get within ten feet of the Turessians, forcing them on the defensive. Four of the men and women looked as shaky as any living wizard might be after using far too much magic, though Liris held her ground, her hands clenched at her sides. Fury burned in her eyes as she watched Raeln close on her.

“She has all of his magic for now,” Dalania whispered, moving to let Raeln get ahead of her. “Stall her. One of our allies is coming to even our odds. We do not have enough magic held in reserve to face Dorralt’s might directly. When the time for the pattern to restore itself comes, she will be powerless.”

Raeln continued across the muddy ground, his Marakeer and soldiers rushing at the Turessians. Three Turessians turned to aim at Raeln, likely intending to strike down the army’s leader, but Liris raised a hand to stop them. Their group split then, with two Turessians going to each side, facing down dozens of Marakeer, orcs, humans, dwarves, and the spells that came in every so often from the living Turessians behind Raeln.

“More than a year of talk and high-minded speeches about how you’ll kill me,” Raeln shouted as he closed the gap between himself and Liris. “I’m still standing. You’re all that’s left between me and your master.”

Liris laughed and gestured at Raeln with her hand held as though clutching something.

His whole body tensed as flames seemed to race through his veins. He could not make himself move, and the burning grew in intensity. He wanted to scream but could not. Every muscle in his body trembled in agony, refusing any attempt to make them budge.

“This is how we kill those who cause too much trouble,” Liris said, slowly closing her hand, as though crushing something. “When I am satisfied, your blood will ignite. No one can save you. No healer in this world can restore your body. Dorralt says it is a waste of our power…an army to kill an ant…but my brothers and sisters have used it before. A filthy-mouthed dwarf. A traitor to the purposes we set him on. Today, I will see you reduced to dust!”

Abruptly, the burning sensation vanished. Raeln fell forward to his knees, gasping for breath. A rumble through the ground from somewhere behind him warned of something immense coming. From what he could see of Liris’s face, it was something she was afraid of. That meant whatever it might be, Raeln would be thankful for its arrival.

Turning slightly as he forced his muscles to lift him back to his feet, Raeln saw the old elven woman Mairlee walking toward him. He had not seen her since the day she had healed his wounds at Greth’s urging, miles from Lantonne, more than a year prior. She smiled mischievously as she brushed her long grey hair out of her face. Behind her, a huge crater was all that remained of the spiked trench, the wood smashed into the mud.

“A more even fight,” she said as she walked up beside Raeln. “I cannot overcome Dorralt’s power here, but I can keep it at bay. Liris, I believe you were a wizardess before all of this nonsense. Do you need the power of a god to kill one little wildling? I would think that would shame you terribly to need more than your own capabilities for this. Even Dorralt reveres honor in his children. Abide by the ways you grew up with.”

Liris sneered at Raeln and lowered herself into a fighting stance, her usual sword of magical flame appearing in her hands. “There is nowhere left for either of us to run, it seems. Today, at least one of us will die. Keep the elf out of this fight and I will not flee.”

“Who are you, old woman?” Raeln demanded, keeping his attention on Liris, who was nervously looking between Mairlee and Raeln, though he watched Mairlee from the corner of his eye. “This is not the place for a healer.”

Mairlee sighed and shook her head. “You truly are a dense one. Nenophar was my son and he was a dragon. What do you think I am, or do I need to draw you pictures? Even Estin figured things out more easily, and he is not the brightest mortal I have ever met.”

Between Raeln and the temple, Liris shifted uncomfortably, watching Mairlee as the rest of the army fought against the remaining Turessians behind her. She started to back away again, but Raeln pointed his weapon at her and she froze, smirking wryly. When she took another step, she ran into a flicker of magic that blocked her from retreating. Raeln looked to Mairlee, who only smiled back at him.

Somewhere nearby, Raeln heard Dalania’s voice—though the tone was clearly not her own—shout, “Raeln! The sapling must reach the temple. There is no time for this. We will take the sapling past the barriers, though this will take all of our remaining strength. Destroy the abominations and join us inside. Our lord will need to have you there.”

A blur of forest-green light raced past Liris and crashed into the doors of the temple. Blue-white magic rippled across the doors and stones nearby, burning much of the area black before the doors collapsed inward. An almost tangible sense of the way no longer being blocked settled over the place, and the Turessians and Raeln’s army stopped fighting to stare at the open doors.

“Into the temple!” Raeln shouted, staying where he was as the army fanned out to encircle the eastern side of the temple. He knew only a portion of the army might be able to fit inside the massive structure, but they needed to claim what ground they could. “Hold it at all costs!”

Soon the army moved past Liris. She remained perfectly still, her sword leveled at Raeln and her eyes shifting rapidly between Raeln and the elven woman at his side. Eventually, even Dalania walked past Raeln, with Yoska at her side, skirting Liris by about fifty feet as she made her way toward the temple.

“Two against one?” Liris asked, grinning and lowering her stance slightly. “Your claims of honorable combat are as hollow as I expected, beast. My allies are being butchered by your army…I expect I am next. Have your pet dragon strike if you must.”

“No,” Mairlee said, putting a hand on Raeln’s arm. “I will only intervene if Dorralt does. This is not my fight. I will make sure that you have the time you need. As it stands, the mists are held back from the temple’s walls by the actions of someone inside. I will ensure that no mists touch you.”

Looking down at Mairlee, Raeln whispered, “Are you sure about this? I’ve needed Dalania’s help every time I’ve fought her.”

“I would tear her apart myself,” Mairlee said, shrugging. “However, Dorralt has used her as an anchor for wards that make my entry to the temple difficult. I cannot touch her and she cannot touch me…I believe this was by intent to slow our attack. You must do this alone. Once she falls, the dragons will be able to enter the temple more easily.”

“I can’t win this fight, Mairlee. She’s a lot stronger than I am.”