The Exodus Sagas: Book II - Of Dragons And Crowns (13 page)

“Well then, my lord, I believe that will answer our questions for now. Please, lead on.” Shinayne felt for the man, and could sense his longing heart and honor. She knew how that felt, and wished it upon no one else. Saberrak, the priest, and the wi
zard followed the two in front.
They all smiled behind the lord’s back, knowing he was probably in deeper danger than
they were. The light from
afternoon
sunlight
beamed in as Savanno tu
r
ned the key and pulled the old stone door. Saberrak helped, as the human man of some years now was having difficulty.

“Bet if this was the queens door it would not be so heavy, would it?” the minotaur snorted jokingly.

“Not funny Saberrak
the gray…
no
t
funny.” Savanno laughed anyway, his face red as they pried their way to the outside world.
The gray minotaur
and the lord
gave one more heave, sendi
ng the door open to full length. They shielded their eyes from the intense sun that was escaping throug
h a few clouds for just a moment
or two.

Azenairk Thalanaxe walked outside, admiring the forested foothills and the small mountain range in the near distant east. It had been a trek of almost an hour under the tower and city to get here, but well worth it for the dwarf who had been waiting to get far away from the dangerous politics of Harlaheim. His rusty iron box in his pouch reminded him of his purpose and promise every time he felt it. He walked into the diminishing sunlight as the clouds smothered them once more, and took in a breath of fresh moist air.
Zen waited for Saberrak and the lord to close the stone door to the tomb.
“This is much more to my liking here, let’s be off then.”

Young Lazlette focused for a moment, sensing the lack of anything arcane in the area, and followed the priest. Despite her desire to learn from the tomes of
K
alzarius, her mood improved greatly with the sense of more travel, and meeting an ancient dragon. Gwenne had read much of the histories of dragons and knew that some had gifts in the arcane that no human could possibly access. Her desire for more knowledge, forbidden, lost, or otherwise,
drove her will to find t
he good in the upcoming journey, though her sour mood was still visible.

Lord Savanno marched toward the old dirt road past the first foothill to the east, the road to the Mission of Saint Tarumin. The elven noblewoman and the gray minotaur close behind him, Lord Lisario thought of his queen, his wife, and prayed silently for Alden’s grace. He prayed for James and Cristoff, that they had met and all was as he hoped it would be, God willing. “Only a few hours here then we turn north toward Soujan Mountain. It will be dark by then, but my cousin Cristoff will meet us with supplies and men if James succeeded. Once we get you to
this,
Ansharr
,
safely
,
in a few days
Cristoff and I will leave for Saint Erinsburg to meet with Kalzarius. You will be most welcome there, should your travels-“

“Ambush!” Shinayne pushed the lord behind a tree as arrows
whistled through the evening air by the dozens. Her keen elven ears had heard the bowstrings in the forest and the slightes
t footsteps ahead in the bend of
the muddy road. Her blades
were out in less than a second
and she took
cover behind the tree she had just shoved Savanno behind
, her body shielding his
.

Another volley of arrows descended at the group
, this time met by a shimmering clear barrier of arcane force from Gwenneth Lazlette. The magical wall halted most of the arrows, save the few that deflected off of tree branches and far outside the boundaries of the immense protective shield. The whinnying of horses and battle charged footsteps of many human soldiers trampled the silence of the hilled forest road. Gwenne counted four on horseback and four times that on foot with rapiers drawn on a downhill run toward them. Her protective warding, easy as it was for her to maintain, would not stop
a man from walking through it, only smaller objects such as the arrows being fired from the hidden archers.

“Savanno Lisario and company, you are under arrest by order of King Richmond the Second and the church of Alde
n!
You have been charged with treason, adultery, heres
y, and conspiracy to the throne!
Lay down your arms, for we will bring you in
alive or dead at your choosing!
” Sir Bernardus yelled from the safety of his cavalry and soldiers. His rapier was drawn and signaling the charge while he spoke, his smile from under his red beard and fat face was plain to those that were looking; for he meant not to take anyone peacefully.

“It seems you would prefer to bring us in dead by the
looks of your arrows, Bernardus!
Bring your blade to meet mine, and we shall see what God chooses!” Sava
nno drew his heavy steel rapier
and readied himself for the coming soldiers and horsemen.

Zen began running up the hill around the flank of the archers, shield raised and crouching low. “Gwenneth!” he pointed up to the archers on the right near him, then to her, and then to the left side of the opposing hill from where more feathered projectiles were originating. The dwarven priest hustled in his heavy plate armor after seeing her nod of affirmation that she would take care of her half of the soldiers with bows.

Saberrak drew his greataxe off of his back with his right hand, and pulled the curved shamshir blade in his left. Lowering his horns, his gaze with his dark eyes and tattoos of his horns underneath slowed the charge of several men.
Shinayne stepped
out with Savanno Lisario on either side of Saberrak, the three of them marching in time directly into the wave of fifteen men rushing across the muddy road intent on their demise. The first four soldiers passed through the glowing w
all of arcane defense, and dove
point first, to the three warriors standing to meet them. The reach of the greataxe easily cleaved into the side of one man, his screams and
bone crunched fall was muffled in comparison to the soldier who lost his swordarm at the shoulder from the heavy slash of
the minotaur’s
curved shamshir at the same moment.

Savanno stepped back one foot and lunged low, falling short intentionally as his opponent swung at his head with the rapier. The lord parried, then cut across the man
’
s chest, subsequently kicking him
in the stomach and sending him to the mud. Another high slashing cut was ducked
b
y the Harlian lord, missing his shaved head by inches; he followed with a slash to the soldier’s thigh, then across the left flank, and finished him with a thrust through the chest.

Three men rushed the elven swordswoman as she stood motionless, blades lowered. She turned sideways avoiding two of the rapier points, and ducked the cut meant for her neck.
Her elven blades twirled round once, then arced out at the
swords of the outside opponents. C
utting their forearms deep and following with two quick stabs into the thighs of the middle soldier
, Shinayne positioned herself closer
. As he dropped to the wet dirt road, the two that were now flanking her attempted to lunge again with weakened grips from injury. Shinayne spun, blades at chest level, and flicked her wrists up upon impact
. D
isar
ming both the men, and continuing
her turn,
she lacerated
them both across the upper thighs. Seeing more men and a soldier on horse
aimed for her
, the elven woman backpedaled, leaving her three opponents moaning in the mud from severe swordcuts
and bleeding
, incapable of further threat.

Gwenneth
Lazlette pointed her black and gold inscribed wand of glass at the archers she could see on the hills and in the trees, though few in the clouded dark of evening.
Suddenly light shone
all through the hillsides, bright as the day in yellow and gold tones. She looked, seeing over a dozen archers now, all under a sun that was not shining from the sky. The wizard saw Azenairk, beams of golden illumination swirling from his free hand that clutched his Hammerpiece
holy symbol of the dwarven God, Vundren
. The lights gave away all the archers, even blinding those close to the dwarven priest as he marched further uphill to face them. “
Hislliam f
ress delthium
!” n
o light emitted from her focused wand, yet the multitude of flares and flames lit the hillside as the bows held by the soldiers ignited. Gwenne smiled, seeing the ranged enemies drop the flames that were once their weapons, and reach for their swords in disbelief. “
Jasrede invulisam
!”
she pointed both staff and wand at the soldiers now traversing the forested slope, sending a wave of purple light spinning toward them
. It crashed into the ground with intense force, knocking at least ten of them to the ground, the rest stared. The hum and dazzling swirling lights that remained had them entranced, wanting
to touch the magic, yet too busy watching the display of color to do so.
Gwenneth moved closer, concentrating on the inviting energies that had their enemies on the hillside enthralled and stunned at the same time.

The long horns of the minotaur pierced through the chainmail of the soldier he had charged. The screaming soldier was flung to the left into one of his own men with a quick and brutal whip of Saberrak’s neck.
His eyes felt the ti
ngle and misty blue haze covering
his vision despite his efforts to stop it. A horseman charged in, lance lowered at the gray gladiator as a look of
confusion crossed his face toward
the blue glow from the minotaur’s eyes. Saberrak cleaved
the lance with the curved sword
then followed with a downward chop of the greataxe into the cavalryman’s chest, sending him off the back of his horse and into death. Shaking his head to clear the blue haze, the horned warrior strode into
the morass of men still daring to charge
him.

The rapier of Savanno dug deep
into the side of the mounted soldier to his left, then parried the cut from hig
h with his blade
and returned a killing blow deeper than the first. He rolled to the right through mud and wet grass as another horseman drove a lance at his chest. Gaining his footing, the Lord Knight Err
ant met another soldier on foot
and parried his attack with his steel edge. Two quick ripostes later, the warrior of Sir Bernardus fell claspi
ng a pair of holes in his shoulder
.
Savanno turned in time to see the charging horseman aim low with his lance again on the return, missing the deft veteran knight as he sidestepped.

The two rapiers cut quickly against the dual matched elven blades of Shinayne, neither man able to get an attack through her inhumanly fast defenses. They cut across at her neck and face, tried to pierce her in the torso, and even attempted to disarm her. She would have none of it, matching each slash with a perfect parry, and each cut with a simple step to the side, then driving both her longblade and matching shortblade deep into the chests of the men in front of her. She had hoped to simply injure them, but their intensity warranted a q
uick kill. She
could tell when an opponent was not going to give up.
Shinayne T’Sarrin rushed across the battlefield, coming up behind one of the horseman. As he turned to begin yet another charge, his lance was cut twice to a short stick with but a handle. The elf went to disarm his rapier that he was about to draw, then he was gone. Yanked from his saddle by Saberrak the gray and thrown into another horseman who toppled horse and all into another footman.

Flashes of white heat scorched thro
ugh the night sky from Gwenneth,
driving the young archers with no bows off into the forest to the west toward Harlaheim. Zen had knocked the life or wind out of five of the
brave young men as he reached the summit of the small hillock; the soldiers fleeing his warhammer as much as the wizards
’
spells. Savanno reached his rapier up to Sir Bernardus, pointing at his slightly plump stomach. Another sword, that of the elf was tickling his side with the point. Yet a third lay across his chest, the curved shamshir of Saberrak. Three swords across him from different angles as he sat on his horse, rapier in hand yet knowing he
was a dead man should he try to attack or
run.
His remaining men scatt
ered or bleeding in the mud,
he was surrounded. Bernardus watched as the dwarven priest and the wizard of Lazlette appr
oached, smiling to each other. There was no issue of retreat given, yet several of his men headed westward down the dark valley toward the city, and Bernardus could not fault them.
The Knight of Harlaheim had been beaten, and knew that Madame Florin was right when she had told him not to underestimate these fugitives from the south. He was undone, surr
ounded, and defeated; he lowered
his rapier and waited.