The Blade Heir (Book 1) (33 page)

The bear swung its heavy paws at Siegfried like a cat trying to swat a fly. Siegfried weaved his body between the strikes, doing his best to annoy and distract the beast as Lucius stepped in closer. Lucius' head throbbed from the pain swelling up in his body, but he steeled himself for the attack. He waited for the bear to take another swipe at Siegfried and then dove at the animal's right flank with his blade stretched out in front of him. The sword plunged deep into the bear's ribcage. A pained growl escaped the bear's throat, and it reared back onto its hind legs, pushing Lucius onto the ground. Standing at full height, the bear opened its mouth to roar, but only a raspy noise came out. The possessed animal collapsed then puffed a few breaths before it lay still in the clearing.

Lucius pushed himself up onto his elbows and knees, attempting to stand despite every inclination of his body to lie prone for eternity. Siegfried helped him to his feet then nursed his wounded arm and watched the fallen bear cautiously.

"Is it dead?" Lucius asked, closing his eyes to keep the swamp from spinning around him.

"Yes," Siegfried replied. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Let's get back to the cabin."

He ambled toward the carcass and tugged the sword from the bear's side. The minor exertion proved too much for his ailing muscles. Lucius' legs went limp and buckled beneath him. Before he hit the damp ground, swirling darkness blurred his vision, ushering him into a sea of black.

Dreams of Kraegyn and Sêrhalon danced amid gray, clouded imagery before he awoke to the sight of Alistair and Siegfried looking down at him. He recognized the messy interior of the druid's cabin and wondered how much time had passed. Pulsing pain erupted throughout his head, chest, and back like a thousand mallets drumming onto him. Siegfried looked down at him with doleful eyes while Alistair dabbed a moist rag on his forehead. Lucius could barely hear the sound of words being spoken, and he wondered if he'd lost his hearing completely.

"He's burning up," the druid said, glancing at Siegfried. He turned to Lucius with a forced smile. "Sleep now, my boy. You are in dire need of rest ... sleep ..."

The druid's voice trailed off, and Lucius soon returned to the dark void where dreams awaited him. But this time he dreamt of the beautiful palace and the unopened door again. Yéwa's voice called to him from within the ball of light.

The time has not yet come, Lucius ... soon ... rest now.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Trial by Fire

The chirping melody of a lone thrush flying over the grassland of Ithileo greeted the Aldronian army as they crossed the Dulan River. Thousands of soldiers on foot and horseback marched northeastward into the province of Ragnara, where the northern forest of Ithileo and the southern shore of the Sea of Lagrimas provided a serene backdrop before the cruel black Onyx Mountains riddled the landscape in the east. Behind the front lines of armored pikemen and archers, Silas rode alongside his field marshal, Rainier. A day had passed since Silas joined the march and taken lead of his father's forces. The men were weary of marching across the wilderness and anxious for combat—a feeling Silas only knew too well.

The long march gave Silas plenty of time to dwell on the coming battle—and also on Violet. He regretted leaving her and Avani to travel the remainder of the Barren Road alone, but he quickly dismissed his guilt by reminding himself of the obligation to his mother and sister. Vengeance against the Draknoir had been a powerful motivator for the past few years, but feelings of love caused him to waver, even now when he marched upon his enemy. Silas could not pass an hour without thinking of the night he and Violet kissed. The soft touch of her lips repeated more than a dozen times in his mind. How he wished they met in a less turbulent time, where love would not have been a hindrance to duty.

Within the hour, the last of the Aldronian ranks reached the Narshé, a lake bordering the same forest where Silas' men were ambushed. At the forest's edge, Silas spied movement—two dark silhouettes dashed back and forth before disappearing into the forest.

"My lord, did you—" Rainier said.

"I saw them, marshal," Silas cut in. "Draknoir scouts."

Shouts from men on the front line reached his ears, and he looked to see the cause of their consternation: the scouts had reemerged from the forest with a large force flanking them on both sides.

"How many can you see, Rainier?" Silas asked.

Rainier pulled out a spyglass and examined the scene. "I would estimate anywhere between seventy-five to a hundred thousand strong, your Highness. They've got quite a few Onyx lizards as well."

"So we are outnumbered," Silas sighed. He glanced around at the soldiers marching alongside him. Their faces revealed an eagerness to fight, but the long trek to Ithileo had likely tired them and he worried the odds were not in their favor.

"Organize the men, marshal," Silas ordered. Rainier nodded and ordered all the men to line up in ranks; infantry led the front, archers positioned at the rear, and light and heavy cavalry flanked each side of the Aldronian forces. The field marshal commanded everyone to continue marching to meet the Draknoir head on.

Silas and his forces marched around the eastern shore of Lake Narshé advancing toward the enemy, who also marched in their ragtag formation. Silas ordered Rainier to halt the march then weaved his way through the ranks to the front, where the infantrymen shot him quizzical looks. Royalty seldom fought on the front line, but he could not resist being the first to impale the Draknoir filth with his sword. Rainier rode up alongside him and offered him a helmet.

"Thank you, marshal," Silas said. He placed the battle-worn helmet over his head. He gazed at the northern shore of the Sea of Lagrimas, searching for the familiar sails of Aldronian corsairs and frigates. "I see no sign of my father's ships, Rainier."

"Perhaps they were delayed, your Highness. Baron Stendahl assured us that our routes would intersect here on the plains of Ithileo," the marshal replied.

"I only fear something ill has hindered him. Baron is a brilliant strategist like my father. He would be here now if he assured it," Silas said, biting his lower lip. "We must fight without them."

"Is that wise, my lord?"

"No, of course not. It is beyond wisdom, but we cannot turn back. We fight, marshal."

"Yéwa help us," Rainier whispered.

"Let us hope he does," Silas said, before turning his attention to the men. "Onward!" he yelled.

On the northern banks of the lake, a Draknoir overlord and a band of warriors lined up at the front line. The overlord handed the Nasgothar standard he held to a subordinate on his left and snatched a horn from another on his right. He blew the horn, which caused a great commotion among the warriors behind him.  War cries and chest-pounding salutes ensued among the Draknoir ranks—a brutish display meant to taunt the Aldronians. In the center of the Draknoir horde, Silas could make out the slithering shapes of Onyx lizards rearing back as their riders yanked their reins. Longbow archers, not unlike those who killed his Drachengarde brethren, assembled before the lizard riders. The painful memory of watching Asher die in his arms filled Silas' mind and stoked the dormant rage within his soul.

"Men of Aldron, slay these beasts!" Silas yelled. He gave the command to charge by unsheathing his sword and swinging it in the Draknoir's direction.

The Aldronians cried out in unison as they charged onto the battlefield with swords drawn and arrows nocked.

Silas tapped his heels into the sides of his mare, spurring the horse forward. Rainier and the rest of the cavalry followed suit, brandishing their claymores and crossbows as they rode into the fray. In a matter of seconds, both armies collided into a tangled mess of Draknoir and men, fighting to slay one another. At the rear of the Draknoir lines, the Onyx lizards wailed as they pushed through the ranks to devour Aldronians in combat. Silas ordered the archers to loose arrows on the foul beasts as he cut down two Draknoir on either side of his horse.

Arrows whizzed past him, killing two Draknoir riders while pikemen moved into position and stabbed the legs of the vicious lizards. The tactic caught the attention of the Draknoir overlord, who signaled the riders to attack the Aldronian archers in full force. The reptilian steeds bounded through the air and rushed toward the Aldronian archers. Their massive jaws wrapped around the waists of the archers, and Silas watched in horror as his men were thrown like rag dolls across the battlefield. Silas rallied cavalry to his position then led a charge toward three lizards attacking the left flank. He slashed his way through a band of Draknoir wielding pikestaffs, but many of the horsemen in tow were knocked off their saddles, leaving only him and Rainier to face the lizards.

One of the lizard riders caught sight of their advance and steered his mount toward Silas. The lizard reared backward, and its gaping jaws snapped near Silas head. He dodged the bite and thrust his sword into the roof of the beast's mouth. The Draknoir rider fell backwards onto the ground as the Onyx lizard convulsed violently from its fatal wound. Rainier cut down the fallen rider before Silas engaged the remaining lizards on the fringe of the battlefield.

He swiftly disposed of the last two lizards with Rainier's help and saved the contingent of archers, but the battle was far from over. In the center of the battlefield, more Onyx lizards overpowered the infantry. Without support, the Aldronian lines would be split, and the Draknoir would quickly overwhelm them.

"Aim your arrows at the center line!" Silas ordered.

The archers released a volley at the lizards, knocking down several of the riders, but the large steeds were still on their feet, punishing the Aldronian ranks.

"Come on!" Silas glanced at Rainier before riding off to aid his men.

A heavy blow from his right knocked Silas off the saddle and into the surrounding battle. The close-quarter combat was fierce all around him. Four Draknoir warriors tried to attack him in his prone position, but the Aldronian archers hastily killed the brutes.

Silas stood up and gripped his ribs, fearing they might be broken. When he retrieved his sword from the ground, he caught sight of the assailant—the Draknoir overlord. The ugly fiend held a spiked mace and crude buckler in each hand, approaching Silas with firm resolve. The overlord had locked his beady eyes onto Silas like a wolf hunting its wounded prey. He pushed fellow Draknoir out of the way and swung his mace at any Aldronian who tried to prevent his advance.

Silas waited for the monster to draw nearer, hoping the archers would take him down soon. The overlord dropped his mace and unsheathed a long scimitar when he was ten paces away. Silas gripped his sword and waited for a volley, but none ever came. The Nasgothar warrior rushed at him. Silas braced himself for the attack, taking a defensive stance. The overlord swung the long scimitar down vertically at Silas. He blocked the attack, but the force of the blow nearly knocked him down. Hot breath from the beast's mouth blew onto Silas' face as their swords locked for a moment. He surprised the Draknoir when he turned on his heel and swung at the overlord's poorly protected stomach. But the blade only struck the buckler, which the Draknoir deftly raised to block the attack.

Silas exchanged strikes with the large Draknoir for a few minutes, unable to land a decisive hit. He searched the battlefield for Rainier, who still fought tirelessly nearby. The marshal had rallied a group of riders to clear the closest threats to Silas and the archers. Every few seconds a nearby Draknoir would try to assail Silas from behind, but Rainier and his cavalry prevented them from being successful. Arrows rained down around Silas occasionally, but only a few landed on the Draknoir overlord. None of the hits seemed to deter the brute's obsession with their endless duel.

Silas desperately needed help to kill the overlord—his body strained to block and dodge the Draknoir's blows. He yelled  for archers to bring down the beast, but another wave of Onyx lizards had descended on their ranks. No one else could aid him. Every man on the field was locked in their own struggle, including Rainier, who fought hard to save their archers.

Yéwa help me.

In a rapid motion, the overlord swung the scimitar high, meaning to decapitate Silas' head. He ducked and rolled, narrowly missing the scimitar's edge. Silas spun around rapidly while the huge Draknoir cursed in his guttural speech. The overlord slowly closed in on him with a confident swagger in his steps. Silas stood his ground, waiting for the first strike. It came swiftly.

A downward vertical swing fell at his left shoulder, but he sidestepped it and swung at the monster's chest. The Draknoir blocked with the buckler again, but left his right side open for Silas' next attack. Silas thrust his sword into a soft spot in the warrior's armor below the breastplate. The overlord growled in pain and kicked Silas' stomach, causing him to double over onto his knees. The overlord's yellow eyes widened when he saw the large sword still stuck in his ribcage. A loud roar escaped the overlord's mouth, and he frantically swung the scimitar at Silas like a maddened animal.

Silas grabbed a fallen soldier's sword and parried the Draknoir's frenzied strikes. Not an ounce of strength had diminished from the overlord despite the sword protruding from his side. A hard kick from the monster's steel boot to Silas's injured ribs sent him to his knees. The overlord slammed the buckler against Silas’ face, and he fell backwards onto the corpse of another Aldronian. The bitter taste of blood filled his mouth as he anxiously tried to rise to his feet. The overlord planted his foot on Silas' chest and pinned him to the ground.

Silas tried to push the Draknoir off, but the creature's weight overpowered him. The overlord smiled maliciously as he raised the scimitar for the killing stroke. Silas frantically clawed the ground for a sword and clutched the hilt of the nearest weapon. At the same moment the Draknoir swung his blade down, Silas swung upward at his enemy's exposed thigh. Silas' blade connected first and severed the beast's leg. The overlord immediately toppled to the ground, awestruck at the loss of his limb. Silas rose to the moment and swiftly decapitated the Draknoir overlord. The few Draknoir minions who witnessed their leader's demise retreated from the battle—their morale suddenly waning.