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Authors: Pedro Urvi

Destiny (26 page)

BOOK: Destiny
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Wind of the Steppes

 

 

 

 

Komir ran towards the east, leaping over rubble, rocks and ruined buildings in the shadow of the great wall. Iruki followed him, running with the agility of a gazelle. The sound of the horn could only mean one thing: enemy magic. He had to reach Hartz to help him. He felt a burning anxiety rising from his chest all the way up to his mouth.
I must help Hartz before it’s too late.
Behind a heap of boulders which had formed part of the wall he caught sight of his fellow-countrymen. The Norriel were defending the opening in the ruined wall, fighting with their famed courage and skill. The black army pressed hard on the highland warriors, but could not manage to break through.

“Come on, you halfwits!” he heard Hartz roar at the top of his voice. “Come on, I’m here waiting for you! Thousands of heads will roll today and my sword will quench its thirst for foreign blood! Just you mark my words!”

At the sound of those fighting words Komir felt an immediate sense of relief. Hartz was alive and well.

Iruki pointed to where Hartz and Kayti were battling in the middle of a sinister cloud. “Be wary, Komir. Evil magic.”

“Hell! Danger!” Komir felt a spasm of unease. As they approached, they sensed a poisonous spell rising in front of them, with men falling consumed by its corrupt aura.

They found Kayti on foot, surrounded by dead Norriel warriors who had been consumed by the corrupting radiation. Komir at once identified its origin. A few paces ahead of Kayti, facing the line of Norriel defenders, was an unholy well, sickly green in color. The well was not natural. It had appeared from the ground, but was covered in a putrid incandescence, clearly supernatural in origin.

Komir, gestured frantically at the Norriel. “Get away from the haze!” he shouted.

But the warriors, engrossed in the battle and intent on dealing death to the soldiers of the black army while they kept up their line of defense, did not hear him.

Hartz fell to the ground suddenly on top of a dozen enemy bodies.

“Hartz! No!”

Komir ran to him. As he ran, the medallion flashed once with a translucent gleam and a protective sphere rose around him.
The medallion has identified the enemy magic and is protecting me from it.
He confronted two enemy soldiers and killed them with Norriel skill, without missing a beat. He sheathed sword and knife, then grabbed Hartz’s arms and dragged him with all his strength to safety, out of the reach of the insidious haze.

Iruki meanwhile was helping Kayti finish off the last enemy soldiers. They too, affected by the fumes of the well, were dying, consumed. Iruki’s medallion shone with a blue gleam, and a protective sphere formed to cover her.

“Enemy magic,” she said to Kayti, pointing at the well.

Komir shook his friend. “Wake up, Hartz, wake up!” But he did not regain consciousness.

He was very pale, as if he had swallowed poison. Komir saw Kayti and Iruki in front of the well, impregnated with its lethal fume, standing in the midst of a hundred corpses.

“Get out of there! Away from the well!”

Iruki took hold of Kayti in an attempt to protect her from the enemy spell, but only managed to take a couple of steps before she fell to the ground.

“Hell!” cried Iruki as she realized she had been too slow. Protected as she was by her sphere, she seemed immune to the effects of the well of corruption. The Masig hurried to tend Kayti.

“Get away from it! Move!” Komir repeated at the top of his voice.

Iruki joined him, signaling to the Norriel warriors: “Don’t let it reach you!”

The Norriel understood what was happening at last. In an orderly manner, to avoid being trampled by the enemy, they moved back to one side out of reach of the fumes. Part of the opening in the wall was left unprotected, covered by the same putrid haze. No soldier from either side dared approach the fumes now.

“Bring her here! Away from the haze!” Komir told Iruki.

The Masig nodded and began to drag Kayti along the ground.

Suddenly several figures crossed the poisonous haze from the other side of the wall, from the lines of the black army. Immune to the effect of the evil spell, they appeared in front of Iruki. As they crossed, the black army launched a frantic attack, pressing hard on the Norriel lines as if possessed. The Norriel intensified their defense, bringing death to the enemy amid roars and war-cries.

The Masig let go of Kayti and stared at the three figures. One of them wore a purple robe and mask. In one hand he was carrying an axe, in the other a skull. Iruki reached for her sword.

Komir saw them too. This man radiated evil power. He was a Sorcerer. He could feel it as clearly as the sun in summer on his uncovered face. Beside him there appeared two other figures dressed completely in black, from head to toe. They seemed the personification of a sinister shadow. In their hands they carried darkened daggers. Fear gripped Komir’s stomach with jaws of steel.

The man in the mask pointed at Kayti with his shining axe.

“Master Isuzeni will be very pleased. We have found the White Soul, and with her one of the Bearers of the powerful medallions.” He gestured at the two shadows. “Bring them to me.”

The two sinister figures lunged at Iruki at an inhuman speed. The young Masig unsheathed the Ilenian sword.

“Come and taste the wild spirit of the prairies,” she said, proud and defiant.

Iruki defended herself with unparalleled skill. Her bewitched sword blocked strokes and delivered backstrokes as her body danced in perfect balance.

“Leave her alone!” Komir shouted. Leaving Hartz, he went to help her. At once several Norriel warriors joined him.

“No, no, no. No interfering,” the Sorcerer said. With a long utterance of power, brandishing his axe at the same time, he cast a spell which he strengthened with the aid of the jeweled skull. Immediately a thick dark barrier, ten feet high and completely circular, surrounded the Sorcerer and the two assassins who were fighting Iruki.

Komir went to cross it, but his own sphere prevented him, as if in warning. Several Norriel warriors ran to the barrier with their swords raised and crossed it in an attempt to kill the Sorcerer. There was a black flash, and the barrier consumed them, ate them alive. The skeletons and the steel crossed to the other side, only to tumble to the ground. The flesh never made the crossing. Komir took a step back in shock.

The Sorcerer laughed and went on conjuring, giving life —or rather death— to the barrier. The Norriel launched spears and arrows through it, seeking to kill the Sorcerer, but in crossing these lost all their force and dropped to the ground.

Komir stared at the barrier, the ominous blackness which composed it, and it seemed to him that it was alive… it moved… He brought his face close to it and squinted to see better, and suddenly made out something very wrong. Trapped inside the barrier was the face of a specter, disfigured and ghostly. Then another, and another, and again another. There were hundreds of them. They moved along the entire circular surface of the spell, as if searching for something. Those phantasmagoric faces seemed trapped in eternal damnation. Abruptly soldiers of the black army crossed the barrier behind the Sorcerer, seeking to enter the fortress. The faces moved at tremendous speed towards them, and amid flashes black as death devoured them as they had the Norriel. All perished, so that only bone and steel crossed. Komir guessed that the spell must devour the life of whoever crossed it, to feed the tortured souls trapped within it.

Iruki shouted: “Assassins, you won’t defeat this daughter of the steppes! I’ll fight with all my heart!”

The two Shadow Assassins could not reach Iruki, who was fighting with supernatural skill. They began to surround her, looking for any weakness in her defense, surprised that someone might succeed in confronting them.

“I’m Iruki, Wind of the Steppes, and I’ll fight with the spirit of my ancestors!” She pointed at Kayti’s limp form beside her. “I’ll protect my friend’s life! I won’t let you touch her, you spirits of evil!”

The two Assassins renewed their swift attacks. No warrior, not even the best sword of all Tremia, could confront one of them, still less the combined attack of two. But Iruki’s bewitched sword seemed to read the blows before they were thrust, and defended her with unbelievable skill. One of the Assassins was now bleeding from the arm thanks to one of Iruki’s lightning backstrokes.

“What are you waiting for? Bring her down!” the Sorcerer howled.

One of the Assassins flashed red. Two daggers shot at Iruki at such a speed that not even the Ilenian sword could stop them. But the protective sphere around her kept them from reaching her. The Ilenian sword protected her from steel, the sphere from the enemy magic.

“You’re all going to die, servants of the night!” Iruki shouted.

The young Masig, defending Kayti against two Dark Assassins and a powerful Death Sorcerer, was a champion of good, a protector of the helpless, a fighter for justice. Cloaked by her sphere and with the Ilenian sword shining in the sunlight, she was the true image of a wild warrior, powerful and incomparably courageous.

Komir was desperate to help her. He ordered his medallion to open up a gap in the enemy barrier. The medallion flashed, and a beam of translucent energy shot out at the death spell. Immediately the ghostly faces turned, seeking to devour any trace of life they might find. Komir concentrated. He had to break the barrier and cross, he had to reach Iruki and help her. But the enemy magic was powerful, and it would take him time, time which his heart told him they might not have.

The Norriel, seeing that their weapons could not cross the spell of death, began to throw their javelins and arrows in an arc, passing over the ten feet of the barrier and aiming for the Sorcerer. The strategy made him uneasy. He covered himself with a protective sphere when he saw the missiles falling around him.

“Catch her! Now!” the Sorcerer howled, urgently this time.

Suddenly both shadows flashed red, then to Iruki’s astonishment they disappeared. The Masig hesitated. Where were they? Where had they gone? At that moment one of the attackers reappeared out of thin air in front of her. Iruki wounded him with a flashing thrust which the enemy daggers could not block completely. But the second assassin appeared at her back. Led by the Ilenian sword, Iruki tried to turn, but she was an instant too slow. The first assassin was the bait, and she had taken it. The second caught her. The assassin struck her in the temple with the handle of his dagger in a swift move which her eye was unable to catch, and she fell to the ground unconscious.

Komir had by now managed to get through the death barrier. “No! Don’t touch her!” he yelled.

The two shadows considered Komir, then the Norriel who were pouring through the opening he had made. They were debating whether to attack or not. For a moment Komir thought they would, that they had a chance. He lunged at them, sword and knife in hand.

“No! This is not the moment,” said the Sorcerer. “Bring me the two women.”

The two shadows hoisted Kayti and Iruki onto their shoulders as if they weighed no more than feathers. A red flash ran through their bodies, and they vanished before Komir’s eyes as he ran towards them.

“Noooo!” Komir shouted as he realized he would be unable to reach them.

The Sorcerer turned and disappeared into the enemy lines.

 

 

The King

 

 

 

 

Aliana ran, followed by Asti, along the base of the wall. She leapt over piles of rock and wood from the devastated lower part of the city. The siege weapons had flattened the area as though a giant vengeful god had decided to punish the city by smashing it to pieces with his divine hammer. When the Healer raised her head she saw several soldiers from the black army, engulfed in flames, leaping from the battlements, which radiated a scorching heat. They ran through the ruined buildings, dodging rubble as they went.

Asti pointed suddenly. “There.”

Aliana saw them at last: soldiers in blue and silver.

But something was wrong. The black army was beginning to break through the defensive line in the ruined section of the wall. They were coming in! The battle was turning in the enemy’s favor. Aliana swore. The situation was chaotic and desperate, with the Rogdonian soldiers trying to stop the breach where units of the black army were already swarming through. If they did not seal the dam, the black sea would drown them in the blink of an eye. The fighting was brutal to the limits of desperation, with the Rogdonian soldiers bearing the onslaught of the attackers as they pushed them back with their shields and skewered them with their spears.

They found Gerart with Kendas, fighting desperately against a mass of enemies who had made their way through.

Aliana raised her voice. There was so much noise that she could barely make herself heard. “What’s happening, Gerart?”

The young King saw Aliana, and his face turned grim.

“You shouldn’t be here. Go back to Haradin!”

“Haradin doesn’t need me right now. You do!”

“Heed your King, go back to Haradin!”

“I heed Gerart, not the King, and my decision is to stay.”

“Aliana…”

“I’m staying. Kendas has sounded the horn, what magic do you fear?” Aliana left it very clear that she had no intention of leaving.

Gerart glanced at her for a moment longer, then shook his head and pointed ahead, on the left of the barrier formed by his men.

He pointed to Kendas’ side. “There,” he said.

By the half-destroyed wall was a round black well which seemed to have a life of its own. It shed a dark haze of death, which extended above the ground. Rogdonian and enemy soldiers alike fell when they were touched by the darkness of death advancing towards them, never to return. The ground devoured them as if a goddess of the abyss were dragging them to her lair in order to eat them. The men moved back in terror, breaking ranks, weakening the barrier they were using to contain the enemy.

“We must stop that spell or it will kill all our defense,” said Gerart. “It keeps expanding. If the defense falls, everything will be lost.”

“Be careful!” Kendas warned them as he blocked the passage of a group of enemy soldiers who had made their way to the center of the weakened barrier. At once Gerart went to help him. Several Rogdonian soldiers joined them hastily.

Asti stood by Aliana. Staring at the spell which was making its way on, corrupting the ground and devouring men as it went, she asked:

“What do?”

“We’re going to stop this evil spell,” Aliana said with conviction.

“How?”

“With Earth,” Aliana said. Her voice was determined.

She held the medallion in one hand and concentrated, seeking to communicate with her Ilenian Medallion of Earth, conveying to it what she wanted to do with her mind. She felt the medallion interacting with her energy, using it to conjure, and the mysterious Ilenian runes filled her thoughts. The medallion flashed with the intense brown of damp earth. Aliana opened her eyes and watched the ground around the well of death beginning to shake.

Asti was still puzzled. “Earthquake?” she asked.

“Not exactly…” Aliana said with a half-smile.

The ground around the blackened surface of the enemy spell came alive, and the rock around the ditch of death began to press towards the center of the darkness.

“I’m going to close it,” she said firmly, and gripped the medallion hard.

The spell of death tried to go on expanding, but the strength of the spell of earth was greater.

“Come on…” Aliana said, pushing with her mind and feeding the magic of the medallion with her whole being. She was holding the jewel in her hand with such intensity that it hurt horribly. But she knew she could do it, she had to keep up her concentration and push, push with her own energy and will so that the spell would work.

Gradually, amid massive tremors and thunderous cracking, the rock moved, crushing the blackness, as if Mother Earth were tightening her fist over an evil being and crushing it until it disappeared. The tremors ceased. Where before had been the well was now solid ground.

“You do it!” cried Asti.

Aliana eyed her work with satisfaction, but the pain in her hand forced her to let go of the medallion. During the spell she had been in something like a trance, and had not even noticed that her hand was bleeding.
That was an intense experience,
she thought. With the enemy spell neutralized, the defensive barrier would hold. She could not help smiling in satisfaction as she used her Gift to cure her hand.

Kendas became aware of Aliana’s success. He gestured at the patch of reddish soil.

“Is it safe?” he asked,

Aliana nodded. “Yes, it’s solid. The enemy spell is dead.”

“Your Highness, we must close the gap,” Kendas said to Gerart, as the King skewered an enemy with his sword.

Gerart saw it. “Men, to me! Close the gap! Close ranks!” he ordered his men, who immediately re-formed the barrier and closed the entire length of the ruined wall.

Kendas ran to help them.

Gerart turned to his men. “Rogdonians, hold fast! Don’t let them pass!”

The men pressed with all their strength, shoulder to shoulder, keeping in line, closing the gap along its entire length. But a group of a hundred or so enemy soldiers managed to cross before they could use the bodies of the dead to block their way. Chaos broke out. The rearmost lines of Rogdonian soldiers lunged at the men in black, and the clamor of the fight thundered in Aliana’s ears.

Gerart, who was the furthest back, killed an enemy with a powerful stroke and shouted: “Rearguard, finish them! The rest, hold your ranks! Don’t let them in!”

At that same moment shadows to her left made Aliana turn. Six Tiger Warriors appeared between two ruined buildings, crossing the square with long strides at astonishing speed. Her heart gave a lurch. She tried to react and shout, but it was too late, the enemy were already upon them. Beside her Asti too turned and saw the threat.

Aliana searched for her medallion. She tried to concentrate and use it. In response, the Ilenian jewel enveloped her in a protective sphere. Imitating Aliana’s, Asti’s surrounded her with a sphere of translucent, solidified magma.
Damn! I need you to attack! To stop them!
But unfortunately Aliana was not mistress of the medallion yet and could not make it follow her will, much less in a moment of confusion and fear. One Tiger Warrior reached her and hit the sphere with a large club and the full force of his muscular body. Aliana felt the impact on the sphere run through her, but the protective sphere held. The warrior struck again, and this time a piece of earth cracked and fell off the sphere. Aliana felt the blow in her own flesh, muffled but still painful.
If he goes on hitting it, he’ll break the protection. I must do something!
Another warrior reached Asti and hit her sphere, trying to reach her head. But the Usik’s protection rejected the blast, although fragments of solid magma fell to the ground. The expression on Asti’s face was one of pure horror.

The leading Tiger Warrior went straight for Gerart, who had his back to him and did not see him coming. Aliana was about to cry out, but the Tiger Warrior on top of her hit the sphere with a brutal two-handed blow, and she felt her whole body shake with pain. She lost her footing and nearly fell to the ground.

The foremost Tiger reached the King like a breath of wind and hit him in the back of his neck with a heavy club, a dull powerful blow. Gerart fell like a log without even realizing what had hit him.

Taken by surprise, Aliana grasped her medallion. She looked at the Tiger who was about to strike again and ordered:
Stop him where he is! Don’t let him hit me again! Petrify him!
And this time the medallion understood the wishes of its Bearer. There was a brown flash, and a beam shot out of the jewel. It hit the Tiger full in the chest. The beam of brown light spread throughout the warrior’s body. Eyes staring wide, arms raised above his head holding the club ready to strike, he saw that he could not deliver the blow. In a few instants what had been flesh had turned to stone.

The Tiger looming above Asti saw what was happening and took a hesitant step back. She took advantage of the fact and reacted. “Tigers!” she shouted towards where Kendas and the soldiers were fighting. But the noise of the fray drowned her voice. “Kendas! Tigers!” she shouted again with all the force of her lungs.

Kendas heard her at last and turned just in time to see the Tigers carrying Gerart away.

“The King!” he cried, “The King!”

The Tiger Warriors carried him away at a dizzying speed and vanished among the ruined buildings behind them.

 

 

 

 

BOOK: Destiny
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