By the Sword Page 18

  He shook his head.

  General Jalarn of Malinor had fallen for a girl – for an enemy. He had been the prodigy general of a mighty empire, servant of a nation that did not allow any room for compassion, let alone love. He had acted like a sentimental adolescent, nearly losing everything.

  Never again.

  The enemy was close now. Very close. He could hear them marching. The army that was led by Talya’s father.

  Jalarn unsheathed his sword, his pulse racing. This was what he was born to do. Fight. Kill. Rule.

  Despite that, Jalarn knew that Talya’s pleading face was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

  *****

  Ittonifer’s lips curled into a satisfied grin as the sword maiden cried out to her God. He rarely grinned, but he really did love a good torture.

  Talya’s pain had only just begun and nothing was going to save her. God’s Son did not even exist. She would see that now, as she died, indignant and alone. General Edandir would lose another loved one to the empire.

  A traitor deserves nothing less.

  “Forgive them!” she cried.

  Ittonifer frowned. What was she talking about?

  The bright beam of magic that surged violently into Talya’s flesh was suddenly driven back onto Aterun. The warlock began to tremble as his own spell worked its way through his frail body.

  Talya dropped to the floor in a heap.

  Ittonifer backed away as he quickly recited the spell again.

  “Acca tabrusca beruna.”

  Nothing happened.

  “Aterun!” shouted Ittonifer.

  The magician was supposed to be an anointed one of the prince, but he had allowed that girl’s God to overpower him.

  “You incompetent fool! I will not be bested by Him!”

  Ittonifer spat at Talya and stalked over to Aterun.

  “Karaphal!” Ittonifer shouted.

  The lightning-like surges ceased.

  Aterun fell onto his backside, panting and groaning.

  Ittonifer unsheathed his broad sword and drove its blade through the magician’s heart. He walked over to Talya’s cell and unlocked it. It was time to put an end to this girl and all of the madness that surrounded her.

  Talya rolled onto her back. Her eyes widened as he came closer to her. Instead of cowering, she sat up and got onto her knees, looking right into his eyes. After everything that had happened, there was not a glint of fear in her gaze. What a warrior she could have made for Malinor. For the prince.

  The world was about to be rid of another delusional rebel.

  Ittonifer lifted his sword just above Talya’s head, his black stare boring into her eyes. She closed them as a tear slipped down her cheek. She wished that she had been able to reach Jalarn, to make things right with Tanel and her father. It was too late for all of that now. In moments, she would be in Heaven. With Jesus and her mother. And Hanten. She bowed her head.

  “Lord, into Your Hands I commit my—”

  A piercing clang resounded just above her head.

  Talya opened her eyes and looked up.

  Jalarn stood at her side. His sword was blocking Ittonifer’s blade mere inches away from her face.

  Talya rolled away from beneath the clash of metal just as Ittonifer’s sword broke free from Jalarn’s blocking move and slammed down onto the ground – right where her head had been.

  “Run, Talya!” shouted Jalarn.

  *****

  General Edandir was grateful that he had chosen a dragon as his steed for the battle. He needed its powerful body and sharp fangs for the best chance of making it to the castle quickly. He had to get Talya out of there.

  From the top of the hill, he could already see the monstrous beasts that Ittonifer had drawn from the deep. They were still in their cages, but it was only a matter of moments before they would unleash their demoniac-driven fury on his men. He was more grateful than ever to have the powerfully built giants fighting on his side.

  Edandir urged his firedrake down the hill. His mounted swordsmen followed. Once he reached the bottom, he signaled to his archers to be ready. They were standing at the top of the rise now. Their bowstrings were stretched taught, ready to shoot.

  The general raised his sword. Thousands of arrows whistled through the air and rained down on Malinor’s knights.

  A chorus of snarls and shrieks filled the air as hundreds of them fell. The monsters had been set free. General Edandir charged ahead with his army roaring behind him. His firedrake bounded fearlessly toward the mass of armed men.

  Edandir drew his sword as he and his dragon collided into the wall of enemy horsemen. He slew three of them within seconds as his dragon breathed fire on several more. The general sliced and stabbed his way through the thick of the battle as his dragon shot out more streams of fire and lashed with his tail.

  The castle still seemed like it was miles away.

  Pori and Timlin fought next to him atop their strong war horses. Endil roared his notable battle cry nearby, clubbing down enemy knights with his mallet in one hand and stabbing them with his broad sword in the other.

  Flaming balls raced in the air above them. Piercing cries echoed all around them. The archers had been hit. Tanel flashed through Edandir’s mind.

  God, protect Your servants as they fight the enemy for You.

  A terrifying snarl resounded through the air as a winged, fire-breathing dragon, larger than any animal that Edandir had ever seen, flew over him. It was flying toward the archers.

  *****

  Tanel was barely able to leap off of his mare in time as an oncoming flaming boulder collided with the animal. He got up and the sickly smell of burning flesh permeated his nostrils.

  “No!” he cried.

  His noble war horse had been slain, but there was no time to mourn her. Another fireball slammed into the ground near him and split into hundreds of fiery chunks that shot everywhere. Several slammed into his back and legs.

  Tanel dropped and rolled, putting out the flames. He dashed away as another rock came screaming for him, ignoring the raw burning sensation all over his back. There were so many and they were coming at them too fast.

  The remaining archers scattered. Tanel caught sight of Wenyn. The other archer’s arm had been burned. Wenyn sat on the grass, holding his limb.

  Tanel raced over to him. A fireball soared just over their heads. He bent down beside Wenyn and sliced a section from his cape. He wrapped it around Wenyn’s badly burned arm.

  “Wenyn, get up. You’ll die here if you don’t keep moving.”

  Wenyn faced Tanel and just stared.

  “The surgeon will prepare an ointment for you later that will do just the trick. You’ll be fine, but you have to get up now. Your wound will go numb soon.”

  “My horse is dead. So many men are dead.”

  “I know. We have to keep moving or we will be dead, too. It’s time to get up!”

  Wenyn stood.

  “Come, let us gather the archers together and finish off those catapult operators once and for all,” said Tanel.

  A slight grin spread over Wenyn’s face and he nodded. The shock was wearing off.

  The two bowmen made their way past the fallen. They rounded up as many archers as they could. To Tanel’s relief, Atalsa was one of the few that had survived the rain of fire. They managed to gather roughly twenty of them back together.

  A piercing screech sliced the air. A giant firedrake was coming toward them. Smoke came from its nostrils. More fire was sure to come.

  “I think we have a problem here,” said Atalsa.

  Her eyes widened more as the massive animal came closer to them.

  “We won’t for long,” said Tanel.

  He grabbed an arrow from its quiver.

  The small band of archers followed suit and fired their arrows at the flying beast. Several arrowheads went deep into its scaly body. It roared angrily and breathed fire at them.

  Everyone hit the ground. The flam
es had missed them. This time.

  They each grabbed another arrow and shot at the dragon until it thundered to the ground.

  That still left nine more of Malinor’s beasts.

  Tanel cringed as several swordsmen nearby were flung into the air like mice by an extremely large, long-necked monster. It ate their horses whole before stalking toward another section of Sanctus’ knights.

  “We have to stop that one next,” Tanel said, pointing at it.

  With his heart pounding violently in his chest, he jogged, with the others following, to the raging animal. They formed a line and then fired a round of arrows at it. It hastily yanked out several arrows with its flexible forelegs, darting its angry eyes in their direction.

  It stormed over, shaking the ground under its great weight.

  Tanel and the others continued to shoot at it, but that didn’t stop the crazed animal. Its skin was much thicker than the giant dragon’s.

  “Retreat!” shouted Wenyn.

  Everyone turned and broke into a sprint, but Tanel knew that it was only a matter of moments before the powerful creature caught up to them.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Deep within the magician’s lair of the castle, the warlocks chanted in unison. Their deep, solemn voices echoed throughout the cave. The cloaked forms stood close to one another around a growing plume of smoke, swaying uniformly.

  “Stop!” shouted Uittan.

  Immediately, the chanting ceased. The mist dissolved and all of the magicians turned their hooded heads to face their intruder.

  “How dare you interrupt us?” growled one of them.

  He removed his hood, revealing angry blue eyes.

  “What is your name?” asked Uittan.

  “My name is Mote. State your business or die.”

  “Mote, I dare to interrupt you because the God who is far more powerful than your wicked lord sent me!”

  “Kill him,” said Mote.

  The warlocks began to chant one of their spells, but Uittan held up his hand.

  “Stop. You have no power over me. The blood of my Savior will protect me against any weapon that the devil throws. Jesus sent me here so that you might know the same truth.”

  “Fool!” cried one of them.

  A deep rumble resounded throughout the cave as the ground quaked beneath their feet. The magicians ceased their chanting, looking around nervously.

  “Why have you stopped?” shouted Mote.

  The magicians scattered, except for their leader.

  “Aterun will have you thrown out of the brotherhood – or worse – when he hears about this!”

  One of them stepped forward, eyes wide.

  “But the power has gone out of us! When we chant, nothing happens.”

  “You are giving in to the cheap trickery of their God!”

  A near deafening explosion came from the cauldron room. All was quiet for a few moments. Then, all of the warlocks bounded out of the gathering room. They stopped once they saw the complete destruction of their scrolls, books, and cauldrons. The statue of their lord had been shattered to pieces. God had destroyed every imaginable thing to do with magic in their lair.

  Uittan’s pulse raced.

  Some of the magicians wept. Mote walked up to the broken statue and touched a piece of it. He faced Uittan with moist, reddened eyes.

  “It can’t be,” he said. “This statue was crafted by the prince himself to be indestructible, but… it’s… it’s ruined! This is impossible.”

  “Of course it is not impossible to destroy something created by someone that turned his back on his Creator,” said Uittan gently.

  The lead warlock tore at the collar of his robe and sank to his knees.

  *****

  Tanel’s leg muscles burned as he ran down a hill with all of his might. The great monster was gaining on them. He imagined its great fangs sinking into him at any minute, severing him in two or tossing him high into the air like a rag doll.

  “Die, beast!” shouted a loud, deep voice.

  Tanel stopped and looked back.

  The giants!

  Six of the large men accosted the enormous creature with their long, powerful spears. It fought back with fervency, but Saclam managed to spear it right through its long neck, and it fell at once.

  “Thank you!” called Tanel.

  The giant nodded and continued on to the next monster.

  Tanel remembered the catapults then. He glanced at Atalsa and Wenyn, who were still catching their breaths nearby.

  “That was close,” said Wenyn.

  “Too close,” said Atalsa.

  “We should make our way down to the catapults. We will eliminate yet another one of Ittonifer’s advantages,” said Tanel.

  Atalsa and Wenyn nodded.

  “God has protected us this far. I believe that He will see us through this as well,” said Tanel.

  The archers charged with a renewed vigor toward Ittonifer’s castle.

  *****

  Ittonifer trembled with rage as his nephew blocked another swing. Jalarn glared at him. He had chosen that girl over everything that Ittonifer had given to him. What a fool.

  “You dare to go against me in my own castle after all that I have done for you? Now you will both die!”

  A sharp pain seared though Ittonifer’s left shoulder. The little wench had stabbed him. He spun around. Talya backed away, holding her sword out in front of her.

  Ittonifer slashed her right shoulder and she stumbled backward. The beatings and the spell had taken their toll on her as it was. She wouldn’t last long now with the fresh, gaping wound.

  Ittonifer blocked a swing from Jalarn that was aimed at his neck. The former general stared, wide-eyed, at Talya.

  “Get out of here, Talya. You’re too weak to fight,” said Jalarn.

  “I can’t leave you here alone.”

  Sickening whelps!

  Ittonifer took a run at Talya, who had just managed to get back on her feet. She steadied herself against the wall, clearly delirious. He jabbed her in the thigh before quickly spinning around to block Jalarn’s next attack.

  Talya’s legs gave out and she fell onto her backside. She would bleed to death in no time.

  “You have to leave now!” said Jalarn.

  Ittonifer could not believe what had unfolded. After so many years of hard work and dedication, Jalarn had thrown it all away – for General Edandir’s daughter, no less. He would have killed her a week ago.

  *****

  Chrissa pressed on through the fighting crowd. Her sword collided with another enemy’s. At least she now had full assurance of where she would go when she died. She had never known such peace as she had when she had accepted the Savior into her torn heart the night before. He had mended it like she never could have imagined. It was an honor to fight for the country that upheld the respect and freedom of all people.

  The giants were working on bringing down another great beast, which made it easier for her and the other knights to make their way into the heat of the battle. Only seven of her father’s vicious animals remained now.

  Two Malinorian knights charged at her. Chrissa dodged a jab from one and stabbed the other one in the stomach. He fell to the ground with a grunt. Her father had trained her well. Now she could use her skill for the right cause.

  Chrissa regained her balance as another warrior came at her. They slammed their swords together. Her arms ached from the impact, but that would not stop her from conquering him. She feigned a jab at his torso and then brought her sword through his chest.

  She moved a few more paces before running into another brute. He charged at her, his broad sword high above his head. She ducked under his swing and tripped him, sending the large Malinorian into the ground.

  He stood again and looked at her.

  “What is it going to take for you to be mine?” he asked.

  “Naeshi?”

  She recognized his striking eyes and the scorpion emblem on his breastplate the
n.

  “I never would have dreamed that I would find you out here,” he said.

  “You never did know anything about me,” said Chrissa.

  A roar came from behind Chrissa and she turned around, blocking a Malinorian knight’s swing just in time. She slashed at his throat before he could attack her again.

  Then, she remembered that Naeshi was still right behind her.

  Too late.

  Naeshi wrapped one of his arms around her and brought his sword to her throat with the other.

  “If you struggle this time, I will kill you,” he said.

  *****

  Tanel and the other archers had nearly reached the thick of the battle. It appeared that the catapults had run out of ammunition for the time being. The flaming boulders had ceased falling.

  He glanced over his shoulder. The unnatural creatures were still lashing out their demoniac fury on his fellow soldiers and knights. The ten giants were working hard at taking down a serpent with long, razor-sharp fangs. The beasts were not as difficult to defeat as Ittonifer had counted on.

  Tanel returned his attention to the task at hand – to take out the catapult operators before they started firing again.

  A scream only a few paces away distracted him. It was Chrissa. A Malinorian warrior had thrown her over his shoulder, carrying her into the heart of the battle. It must have been that same bull-headed man who’d come to their camp and attacked the general.

  Anger surged through Tanel. He fired an arrow into the man’s leg. Naeshi yelped and dropped Chrissa as he tried to remove the arrow. He looked up and saw Tanel.

  “You again!” he shouted.

  In one fluid motion, Chrissa yanked the sword out of his sheath and held the point of its blade to his neck. She looked over at Tanel and nodded her gratitude.

  The willowy girl could hold her own. Like Talya.

  Relieved, Tanel followed the other archers into the thick of the fighting. Wenyn and Atalsa used their short-range archery skills, while Tanel unsheathed his sword, fighting only those who attacked him. He just wanted to get to the shooters quickly.