Soul Seeker (The World of Lasniniar Book 1) (23 page)

“Better you than Silvaranwyn,” Golaron muttered. If Lysandir heard his words, he pretended otherwise.

“We must take advantage of the time Silvaranwyn has bought us,” the Learnéd One continued. He gave Golaron a pointed look. “Do not let her sacrifice have been in vain.”

Iarion tied a lead rope between Silvaranwyn’s mount and his own. Golaron had already helped her onto his horse and swung up behind her. She was in no condition to ride on her own.

“He killed two of the drakes?” Hidar asked Iarion, his eyes wide. Iarion nodded. “That is no small feat.” The man looked at Lysandir with newfound respect as he mounted.

Lysandir dug his heels into his horse’s flanks and led them off once more. They skirted the foot of the mountains by veering northeast. It was only when they reached the northern branch of the Sunset River that they were forced to turn south to reach the ford and make a crossing. Everyone except Silvaranwyn and Barlo dismounted to lead their horses across. Silvaranwyn remained on the back of Golaron’s mount, clinging to the horse’s neck.

The water was icy cold as it churned southward out of the mountains to eventually fill Sky Lake in the heart of the Upper Daran Nunadan. Sinstari leaped from rock to rock to cross. Once they reached the opposite bank, it was only a short distance to the Great North Road.

“Must we take the road?” Hidar asked. “It feels too exposed.”

“I do not like it either, but it is the only way into the mountains,” Lysandir said. “If there is another passage, it is known only to the dwarves who live there. We have no choice but to chance it.”

They remounted with nervous glances southward toward enemy-held Nal Nungalid. A cloud of dust appeared before them as they neared the road. Iarion drew his bow from his shoulder and nocked an arrow. Linwyn and Golaron’s swords rang free of their sheaths. Behind him, Iarion felt Barlo shift to free his ax.

Iarion leaned forward, trying to see through the dust. Shadowy forms took shape and sharpened. He slung his bow back over his shoulder.

“Lower your weapons,” he called to his companions. The others frowned, but obeyed. He dismounted and approached the road on foot.

Now that they were closer, the others could see as well. It was a ragged group of human women and children traveling on foot. The few men that accompanied them were either elderly or wounded. They were all Greater Men. Iarion held out his empty hands in a gesture of peace as he approached. The men drew ranks around their charges and held their swords ready.

“I mean you no harm,” Iarion said in a calm voice, speaking the Common Tongue.

“You are no Wild Elf,” one of the men said. “What dark trick is this?”

“My name is Iarion. I am what you would call a Wood Elf from the forest of Melaralva to the south.”

“You are far from your home then.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want?”

“You are fleeing Nal Nungalid,” Iarion said. The man nodded. “Tell me what happened there.”

“An army of dark creatures and men fell upon us from the east. They were led by a Forsworn One. We had no warning. Most of the men defending our city died in battle. Once they had taken Nal Nungalid, the dark ones turned to the women and children, raping and slaughtering anyone they could find. We are all who managed to escape.

“We have been making our way north ever since, trying to reach our allies at Dwarfwatch. But it is slow going with such a group. We have had to stay off the road as much as possible and live in the wild to avoid being found.”

The man’s haggard expression attested to the difficulty of their journey. He refocused on the elf. “You still have not said what your business is in these parts.”

“I am no friend of the dark creatures,” Iarion said. “And if I wished you any harm, I would only have to call over my friends.” He gestured to the rest of his group, who remained at a distance. “We are also traveling to Dwarfwatch. We have been to Nal Huraseadro. The reason you had no warning of the attack is because most of their men died trying to defend the Pass of Stars from an army even larger than the one in your city. Lord Andiraron likely tried to send warning, but I suspect his messenger was waylaid.”

“You bring evil tidings.” Iarion’s words spread through the group. “We had hoped Nal Huraseadro would come to our aid.”

“I’m afraid the best you can hope for is that the dwarves will give you refuge.” Iarion allowed his regret to color his voice. “My friends and I would try to help you regain your city, but we have pressing matters to attend to elsewhere. Perhaps we can escort you as far as Dwarfwatch, since we are going in that direction anyway.”

“We do not need your pity,” the man sniffed. “Besides, what could be more pressing than our situation?”

“Something that could destroy the Fallen One and his armies,” Iarion said. “And my suggestion was not based on pity, but common sense. You look like you could use the help.”

As the leader debated this quandary, another cloud of dust rose from the south. Iarion shaded his eyes to look.

“You have run out of time,” he said. “A scouting party of dark creatures is headed this way. There is no time or place for you to hide.”

“It seems we have no choice but to trust you,” the man said. He and his companions turned to face the approaching enemy.

“Then send anyone unarmed to flee for the mountains. Let them run to Dwarfwatch while we hold off the enemy.”

The man nodded his agreement and spread the word. Iarion whistled for his horse and trotted back to his companions to tell them of what had passed.

“We can meet them here and gradually fall back to the mountains, buying them time to escape,” Linwyn said after Iarion had finished explaining.

“I do not like compromising our secrecy,” Lysandir said. “But I suppose we cannot ride onward and allow these people to be slaughtered. I cannot help you, or the Forsworn One will know for certain we are here. Let us hope it does not return. I will take Silvaranwyn to the mountains with the others.”

“Here,” Iarion said, tossing his pack to the Learnéd One. “Take this.”

If he should fall in the coming battle, Lysandir and Silvaranwyn would have to continue on alone with the Levniquenya. Although this was Iarion’s quest, any elf could bear the touch of the Quenya. Iarion could only hope Silvaranwyn would not have to go in his stead.

Golaron surrendered the elf woman to the Learnéd One, helping her onto his horse. Iarion dismounted and lowered Barlo to the ground before remounting. Iarion had no desire to share a mount with him when his friend would be swinging his ax.

Iarion bent low and made eye contact with Sinstari. The cat looked up at him with curious eyes.

“We hunt,” Iarion said in Elvish. He pointed at the dark party rapidly approaching. “Them.” Sinstari lowered to a crouch and growled.

Satisfied he had done all he could in the time they had to prepare, Iarion pressed his heels to his horse’s flanks and rode toward the enemy, not even looking to see if anyone followed. Sinstari loped beside him with long strides. Iarion drew his bow and nocked it as he rode, guiding his mount with his knees. As soon as he was within range, his arrows began to fly. He heard shrieks as each one found its target.

Iarion emptied his quiver before any of them got too close. He swung off his horse and drew his knife to meet the onslaught on foot. None of the enemy was mounted. He spared a few words for his horse in Elvish, telling him to flee. Trained by the
Beliadar
, the beast didn’t hesitate to obey.

Sinstari crouched at his side, waiting for the enemy to come to them. Linwyn, Golaron, and Hidar arrived on horseback. Their longer weapons had the reach Iarion’s knife did not. Barlo huffed behind them, trying to catch up with the armed men of Nal Nungalid, who were beginning to pass him. Iarion waited perfectly still and allowed the tension to mount as the enemy rushed toward them. The dark creatures had already spotted them and drew foul weapons of their own.

The snarling mass drew nearer, and still Iarion did not move. Finally, sensing the moment had arrived, he charged into the fray. The others followed.

Iarion collided with a hairy ogre. He ducked its fierce tusks. The stench of the creature’s foul breath washed over him. He slipped behind it, spinning to deliver a hard kick to its back. It toppled to its knees with a grunt. He followed through by sliding his blade into the flesh at the base of the ogre’s skull, twisting. The ogre hit the ground with a surprised grunt.

Iarion moved on to the next creature. And the next. And the next…

Beside him, Sinstari was holding his own. The wildcat pounced on an unwary goblin, tearing out its throat. The cat’s dark muzzle was dripping with blood as he turned to rake his claws at his next target.

A Darkling Man fell to the ground with a gurgle, Barlo’s ax buried in his chest. Linwyn sang a battle song as she trampled her enemies beneath her horse’s hooves and charged any dark creature that crossed her path.

As always, Golaron was her shadow, protecting his twin from any attacks she failed to see. Hidar was also impressive, laughing and taunting the enemy from horseback in his own dialect while skewering them with his spear. Soon the dirt of the road was soaked with blood.

The men of Nal Nungalid fought with fierce desperation, but they had been fleeing for days with limited supplies. Many of them fell under enemy blades and tusks. A troll waded into the midst of the battle, sending friend and foe alike flying with its giant mace and fists. Iarion finished off the goblin he was facing with a slice to the throat and raced to meet the stupid thing, killing any dark creature in his path. Sinstari and Barlo followed.

Iarion leaped in front of the raging troll and waved his arms to get its attention. Barlo circled around behind it. Sinstari held off any other creatures who tried to interfere.

It took a few ineffective slashes from Iarion’s knife to get the troll to focus on him. It bellowed, sending a thick gob of spittle to land on Iarion’s shoulder. Iarion grimaced in disgust. It lifted one of its huge feet to trample the elf.

Iarion was faster. He rolled out of the way at the last moment. As he rose to his feet, he saw a flash of metal as Barlo’s ax fell in a downward arc. The troll’s cry was nearly deafening as it toppled to its knees. The ground shook with the impact. Barlo had severed the tendons behind the creature’s knee.

They had to take advantage of the situation now that the troll was vulnerable. Its tough skin gave it protection from most attacks, but Iarion had an idea.

As Barlo circled to face the troll, Iarion clambered up its back with a nimbleness only an elf possessed. The troll tried to dislodge him, but Barlo and Sinstari forced its attention elsewhere by attacking from two directions at once.

Although they couldn’t do much damage, the tactic worked and Iarion was able to scramble up to the troll’s shoulders and neck. He used the rough skin as footing to climb even higher until he was atop the creature’s head. It was only his heightened sense of balance that kept him from falling.

Iarion drew his knife and lowered himself to his hands and knees in a crouch. At first, the troll tried to dislodge him, but Iarion remained fixed in place. After a few more attacks from Barlo and Sinstari, the creature forgot about the elf.

Iarion knew his moment had come. He dove over the troll’s brow and used both arms to stab his knife in its eye. His blade slid right in, reaching the creature’s small brain. Iarion fell forward as it snapped its head backward to give a wordless cry of pain. Blood and gore poured down Iarion’s arms as he hung from his knife. He clenched his blood-soaked fists around the hilt and gave his arms a wrenching twist.

The troll uttered a horrible scream and began to topple. Iarion pulled his knife free and leaped as the creature fell. The elf rolled to his feet with his blade ready as soon as he hit the ground. The troll shuddered, then went still. But Iarion and his companions had no time to celebrate their victory. Waves of more dark creatures and men pressed forward.

“Fall back!” The voice was Golaron’s. “There are too many. We must fall back.” Iarion saw him force his mount in front of his battle-hungry sister. Linwyn scowled at him, but turned her horse.

It was only the beginning of a slow retreat toward the mountains. Although Iarion and his companions slew many of Saviadro’s minions, too many of the brave but exhausted men of Nal Nungalid were being cut down. The dark creatures continued their advance, even though they were made to pay for each step of ground they gained.

Iarion had no idea what he and his companions were going to do once they reached the mountains. It would be more defensible ground, but would there be enough of them left to take advantage of it?

Iarion’s features twisted into a bitter expression as he fought. If they were defeated and the enemy attacked Dwarfwatch, not only would the women and children of Nal Nungalid be slaughtered, but Lasniniar’s one chance at dethroning the Fallen One could be lost. If the Levniquenya fell into enemy hands, it would be over. Iarion pushed his concerns aside and focused on the next attacker.

The battle lasted for hours. Iarion blinked blood and sweat from his eyes and tried to force his exhausted muscles to stop their trembling. His companions were in no better condition. Linwyn, Golaron, and Hidar had been forced to dismount, sending their horses into the mountains. Their forces had reached the pass where the Great North Road entered the Mountains of Wind.

This was where they would be forced to make their stand. Iarion resigned himself to the inevitable. He continued to fight, even though it seemed hopeless.

The enemy forces surged forward, threatening to crush them. Iarion and his friends remained firm in a desperate attempt to hold their ground. None of them spoke. Linwyn’s battle songs and Hidar’s laughter had gone silent. They conserved what little energy they had left for killing.

Iarion could only hope Lysandir and Silvaranwyn would be able to escape with the Levniquenya to complete the quest. It was all that was left to him. He fought on in despair. At least he could fall giving them a chance to get away undetected.