Arrival (32 page)

“I’ll never understand those four.”

Jane chose the smallest sword she could find and ran towards the healing tent. Looking behind her to make sure no one was watching her, she ran headlong into someone’s chest and was knocked flat onto the ground. Looking up, she was aghast to see Fern staring down at her.

“Jane! Are you all right?” he asked, reaching to help her.

She jumped up and was only just able to evade his hands by side-stepping around him.

“I’m fine,” she called over her shoulder as she raced to put as much distance between them as she could. Humiliation washed over her.

She arrived at the tent, her breath coming in ragged gasps, and handed the sword to Ria.

“Thank you, Jane.”

“Yeah, well I made myself look like a total idiot getting it for you,” she said.

“Sorry,” Ria said.

Suddenly Jane began to giggle. Soon she was laughing hysterically, and Ria was looking at her as though she had gone mad.

“What’s so funny?” she asked her.

“I told Accolon I broke my other sword and threw it into a fire pit,” she said in between giggles.

“And he believed you?” Ria asked, and this sent Jane into further fits of laughter. She told Ria more of what had happened, and soon the girl was laughing beside her.

As Jane walked back to her own tent, men everywhere stared at her—laughter was not a sound they expected to hear on the eve of battle. But she was a Bright One, and they were known for acting strangely.

At dawn, the soldiers lined up. It was then that the snow began to fall. Lined in perfect columns, Leostrial’s men were an army of deadly warriors, and the sight of them chilled every onlooker.

Accolon’s heralds rode out to meet Leostrial and his heralds. In the group were Fern, Accolon, Vezzet, and the four strangers, each with weapons close to hand. The other leaders had stayed behind, readying the army.

None of them had ever seen Leostrial, except for Jane in her vision, and Harry at a distance, but there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that this plainly-clad warrior was he. It was his eyes that gave him away. His were the darkest eyes any of them had ever seen. Satine sat atop a large black horse on his right-hand side, she stared blankly at them all, avoiding their eyes. She looked lovely, and fearsome. Her long blonde hair flowed out behind her and there were two swords in her belt—she was here to fight.

Each one of them, including Leostrial, was aware that Accolon had not taken his eyes from her, and Jane wished that he would, for Leostrial’s face seemed to grow darker with every second that he stared.

Above them flew the two banners of each army. One was of a hateful black weeping eye, and the other was of a pair of dove’s wings—the banner of ‘the army of good’, as they had called themselves.

“I shall give you the chance to surrender here and now, and you will all be permitted to leave unharmed,” Leostrial spoke in a quiet, clear voice. A man on a horse rode forth and handed to Accolon a smaller copy of the banner that flew above Leostrial. Accolon unrolled it and held it up for all to see what it was. Then, in one swift movement, he rolled it back into a ball, and hurled it high into the sky. Without a word of order, the archers from the front line of his army raised their bows, and each let loose an arrow. And every single arrow sailed through the air and pierced the flag before it hit the ground.

“Very well. You have chosen death,” Leostrial said.

But before he could leave, Accolon called, “Wait! There is another matter which must be resolved here and now.”

They all froze. “Satine, you have done your job well. Return to us.”

The army turned to look at Satine, who had manoeuvred her horse alongside Leostrial’s.

“No, Accolon,” Satine said quietly. “I’m sorry. I’ll not be joining you. My place is here, with my country. I should never have left. I wish you could understand that Leostrial does not want to destroy this land, but make it prosper. I know you, though. You will not change your mind now. Let us hope we do not come upon one another in the heat of the battle.”

Accolon’s face hardened and he said, “Let us hope that. I do not hope, however, to miss coming across the man who has so hardened you to the voice of reason and compassion. And love.”

A shadow crossed her face then and Jane thought that Satine might cry. “He has not hardened me to love,” Satine said, not looking at Leostrial, but at Accolon. It looked like it hurt her to say.

Accolon narrowed his eyes at her. “You love him?”

“Does that matter?”

“Yes. Of course it does.”

She shrugged. “Then yes.”

“Then I pity you as I have never done, for to love a man with no heart is to have no heart yourself.”

Leostrial had been silent throughout the exchange, but now he moved forward. “That is enough,” he murmured, his voice commanding and filled with authority. “Do not speak to Satine like this because you are heart-sore and jealous,” he said to Accolon. “I had heard that you were a great warrior and a great leader.” Was it disappointment Jane could hear in his voice?

“Why does it matter how I behave? All you wish for is our deaths.”

The warlord shook his head slowly. “You have chosen to fight, so you must die. Satine is not coming back to you.” He paused for a minute and then went on. “I fear I have another great disappointment for you.” His eyes flickered momentarily to where Vezzet was sitting atop his horse, but before he could say anything, the young chancellor kicked his mount into a gallop and rode forth to stand next to Leostrial.

Vezzet’s eyes gleamed with a malice and he watched them all with a sly smile. “You must feel foolish,” he said wickedly. “To have fallen for me so utterly and completely!”

“You monster!” Anna shrieked.

Her face was pale, and her eyes glowed with fury. Jane’s own anger sparked as she looked at her friend.

Vezzet only laughed. “You were the worst of all, my darling,” he crooned. “So gullible. How easy it was to make you think that Tomasso was the traitor.”

“All those times you talked to me of the strange looks he gave you,” Vezzet went on, “about how he never stopped staring at you. You thought he was trying to find out about you because you were a Stranger, but all the time he watched you with love.” He laughed again, and Anna swayed on her horse. Harry was closest to her, and he reached out to steady her, taking her hand.

Vezzet turned to face the rest. “You killed the wrong man!” he gloated. “He was suspicious of me the entire time, but you believed me, the simple stuttering assistant chancellor, even though he was not as smart as his master. But I was the smarter one after all, wasn’t I?”

“You are a fool, Vezzet,” Jane said softly. “For to turn your back on an army with such power is a folly bigger than you know. We will come for you when this is done. You will have nothing left, no place to hide.

“At the end you will realise who we are and what a mistake you have made in betraying us. The gods rot your soul, Vezzet.” The words poured from Jane. The earth fell silent around her.

Vezzet drew back away from her brilliant, terrifying gaze and Leostrial peered at her as though she were a rare gem.

“Who are you?” he asked after a time.

“I am...” A name floated into her mind and she knew it was her true name, but then it was gone again, completely lost to her.

Around her neck, the white pearl glowed and throbbed. “I am the gods’ victorious smile. There will come a time when I shall rid this place of evil as I long ago vowed. I am the fear in the hearts of your men, and you know that I will come for you, Leostrial. This is not your land, not your kingdom. You do not belong here.”

A cold wind blew over the silent soldiers and a charge of electricity ran between Jane and Leostrial. Finally Vezzet broke the spell with a shriek.

“You cannot scare us with your words!”

“That is enough!” Leostrial said and Vezzet fell silent. Leostrial’s face was still a cool mask.

Fern spoke up. “Let us now do what we came here to do.”

Jane gave him a sideways look.

“You are Prince Fern of Cynis Witron?” Leostrial asked.

Fern ignored him. “Leostrial, we came here to stop you from attacking the gods. The outcome would be disastrous. We are going to fight you. If we must die trying to stop you, then so be it. But understand this: we are fighting for what we believe in—every single one of us. Can you say the same for your own army?”

Jane shivered at his fierce determination.

“No, I cannot,” Leostrial said without hesitation. “But I too am fighting for what I believe in, and you will see that my determination and power is enough for the rest of them,” he said, waving a hand to encompass his army. He frowned then, and added, “It is a pity you are all so young.”

Fern shouted, “Then let us begin!” and a chorus of war cries erupted from the battlefield.

The Heralds Rode quickly back to their armies amidst screams of anticipation. Prince Fern addressed the armies of Paragor.

“Heed me, people of Paragor!”

Silence again fell over the plain.

“It is a terrible day when we must turn on our brother country, but we have come here today to fight for our lives and the lives of our children. We must fight for our wives, our sisters, our mothers. We have come here to fight for Paragor and the gods! No honour is greater!

“Today is the day we fight, and today is the day we win!” A great cheer went up.

“Blood shall be spilt and lives shall be taken. I feel honoured and privileged to stand beside each of you in battle and fight for our beloved country. Take your destiny in your hands!”

“For Fern!” they cried.

“For Paragor!”

Fern raised his sword and the armies ran forth. Waves of warriors washed in to meet each other with the clang of steel. Blood flowed and shouts turned to screams.

The ferocious attack on fellow humans, the shriek of horses and people, the crunching of bones and the slicing of flesh, the blood pouring onto the perfect white snow below them was enough to put an arrow in the heart of every man and woman there. The good and bad died together in the softly falling snow.

The Kabduh soldiers fought valiantly, each brandishing two curved swords, killing hundreds of Leostrial’s men between them.

The Amazonians fought bravely, rarely using their blades and instead fighting mercilessly with their long brutal poles.

The sabre-tooths with their evil riders were the most difficult to kill—for all except the immortal warriors, the El~ariah, who cut a terrible path straight through the centre of Leostrial’s army, singing an ancient tribal song as they killed. But Leostrial’s army was too big. If all but the El~araih died, the immortal warriors would have no choice but to kill themselves rather than serve Leostrial.

Leostrial’s men began to gain ground—they would not stop until there was no one left. The cold wind of death washed over the battlefield.

It was then, just as hope began to fade from the armies of Paragor, that an army of light rode from the horizon and stood on the hill next to the battle. The ultimate army of beauty and deadliness, the ancient immortals. And so Blaise’s one true wish was fulfilled.

The army of Elves had come. They lined up on the hill and they raised their bows, notched with arrows, and rained death onto the battlefield. Cries of jubilation again rang out from the battlefield, and a new determination flourished inside Accolon’s army.

The Elves held their position on the high ground as decoys for Leostrial’s archers where they could not be reached.

But it was soon apparent that the Elvish fighters could not bring the army of good the advantage needed to win the battle.

Jane stood, knee deep in red snow, taking ragged breaths into her exhausted lungs. She looked around at the carnage and the exhausted fighters. She could see Harry, and Luca fighting near her. Harry dodged out of harm’s way, clumsily swinging his sword. Luca was deathly pale, and hammered blows on Leostrial’s men all around.

Anna was behind them safely away from the battle, helping the healers as best she could.

Suddenly there was a cry from Jane’s right, and as she turned to see from where it had come, a tall figure loomed in front of her, his sword raised. She gasped in terror and threw herself aside, barely missing the heavy blade’s arc. Jane jarred her knee as she fell to the ground, but there was no time to think about it. Rolling to the side, she only just managed to avoid the next blow. Heaving her sword into the air, she used its heavy momentum to propel it forward into the soldier’s calf. He cried out in pain as it connected with his flesh.

Jane tried to run when the man’s hand reached out to grip her shoulder, pulling her to the ground in front of him. Winded, she looked up into his blue eyes for just a second. But that was all, because he was already leaning forward to stab his knife into her. Without thinking, Jane lifted her sword, hoping to block his attack, and was shocked to see it slice into his unprotected neck.

The man opened his mouth in surprise, his eyes widening. He made a gurgling sound, and collapsed on top of Jane. She shrieked and tried to lift him off her, his blood already all over her. It smelt hot and steely and made her gag.

Panicked tears sprang to her eyes as she desperately tried to escape the heavy load, becoming more hysterical with every moment she remained trapped. Thankfully, just then the body was wrenched off her and sprawled onto the ground next to her. Jane looked down at herself, completely covered in blood, and whimpered.

“Jane!” a voice from above her said. “Are you all right, my love?”

It was Fern. Jane pulled ragged breaths into her lungs, trying to stop her tears and letting him help her to her feet. She nodded mutely.

“Go and help, Anna,” he said. “It’s too dangerous for you here.”

She shook her head angrily. “Don’t talk to me.” And with that she moved away from him, making sure not to look back.

She gazed up the hill to her right, and took in the magnificent sight of the Elves lined up. She thought of Blaise, and launched herself into the fray once more, trying not to think of the man she had just killed.

Jane was set upon by another soldier dropping to the ground, she felt his sword miss her by inches. She waited until the swing of the blade’s momentum took the man off his balance, and she swung her own sword into one of his ankles.

Clumsily she pulled it out and swung it to her right. It was blocked and she received a heavy blow to her right shoulder. Then without pause, another blow crunched into her left knee and she sprawled onto the ground.

Jane’s long hair had been concealed under her helmet, but now it flew off, revealing the girl underneath. The soldier faltered and Jane grappled for her sword in time to block the killing blow. She rolled out from underneath the blade, and struck him unconscious.

The men around her paused for a split second.

“Don’t stop fighting because I’m a woman!” she screamed at them, and then with a wild swing, she struck two men, one across the chest and another through the neck, jarring her wrist with the impact.

But there were too many. Slowly she was surrounded. Jane realised she was going to die. There was no way that she could overcome all of them.

Suddenly the men around her began to drop their swords and shriek in pain and horror. Their cries froze Jane to the spot and she shuddered at the horrific sound.

Ria was near to the front of the battle, very close to Accolon, though he had not yet noticed her. Men were dying all around, even the Elves with their bows couldn’t save them.

It was in that moment that it came to her like a slap in the face. What she had to do. And so, as Ria had previously sung of life, she now sang of death. Not the melancholy tune of the tavern in Luglio, but a full-throated cry.

She poured herself into the singing of this killing song, for no other could sing such a powerful threnody, a lamentation for the dead.

Her song rang out over the battlefield, freezing everyone in their tracks and driving them powerless to the ground. At first it reached out only to those around her, knocking them down so that they writhed in excruciating pain. But soon it crept further and further over the battlefield, dropping fighters everywhere.

So powerful was her song that it overcame her, setting her body alight with pain. The sound became like a kind of shrieking wail that hurt the ears even more.

It had not yet reached Leostrial and, before his entire army was destroyed, with a whistle that pierced the air for miles, he called for his creature.

Locktar.

The huge black wival appeared on the horizon, dark power emanating from its body with each beat of its wings. It was a beast trained to kill, but it took time to reach the battle, time in which every soldier from the army of good felt the dread rising. The black creature of nightmares came closer and closer.

Anna watched Locktar rise up on his colossal wings and swoop towards them. In that moment all her nightmares came rushing back. All thoughts of Vezzet and Tomasso quickly vanished, and she thought only of how she was going to die. So much time she had had to prepare, but now that the moment was here, the fear was crippling.

It took only moments for Locktar to reach the battle. Anna watched as the beast swooped down and plucked Ria from the ground, instantly ceasing her death song. Men who had been in agony collapsed in relief to the ground. Locktar held the singer with tight talons gripping her chest.

Anna watched in horror as Locktar flew above her, higher and higher into the air, and she knew that he meant to drop the poor girl to her death.

She was staring into the sky when Locktar suddenly looked down at Anna, and his red eyes burned into hers.

But what Anna recognised in those eyes was not hatred or evil. It was longing.

A desperate need to escape.

Anna felt something then. Something inside her. A connection, a realisation.

“Locktar!” she screamed, and the beast whipped his head around to face the now tiny speck on the ground. The fighting paused so that all could watch the scene that was playing out.

“Come to me!” Anna’s words reached up through the sky and were heard clearly by the dragon. They held an authority that most had never heard before. But Locktar did not come to her. He wanted to—how he wanted to—but he could not. He had been taught, from birth, to serve darkness and to hate everything good.

“You shall not give in to the darkness!” Anna screamed. “Look to the light! Let it take you, and come to me!” Locktar swooped lower, but still he did not land. There was a battle raging inside him, for all to see. His nostrils flared and puffed smoke, his eyes darted in panic.

“You shall yield to me!” Anna shrieked one final time, and her words were so full of power, that Locktar did exactly that.

The beast came screeching to the ground, dropped Ria, and stood raging before Anna, his breathing loud and fast.

Very slowly, Anna stepped towards the beast. He threw his head back and roared, the sound cracking into the sky and terrifying everyone who heard it. Anna froze, then carefully approached Locktar.

“Anna! What are you doing?” Harry yelled at her. “You’ll be killed!”

Anna reached out, holding her breath, never breaking eye contact with the dragon, and touched him. She laid her hand very gently on his scales. His breathing was laboured and hot smoke puffed out from his nostrils. Ignoring the shouts of protest, she climbed onto the back of the wival and sat carefully behind the wings, trying hard to hold onto the creature’s slippery scales.

Locktar lifted off the ground and Anna gripped on tightly. The dragon shrieked with anger at the fact that he had been harnessed by yet another. He screamed and bucked in fury.

Anna hung on for her life, because they were now far above the ground. “Locktar! Stop! Yield to me! Yield to goodness!” she whispered.

Locktar gave one last, gigantic buck, and then stilled, his heartbeat calming and his breathing slowing. She had him.

“Fly, Locktar,” Anna said now, stroking his head. So he did. She soared with the great creature, taking huge dives and swoops.

But there was no time to rejoice in their newfound connection, for below them the battle began to rage again.

The battle went on and on. Ria’s song had slowed everything down, but it had not stopped it completely.

The sun was lowering. They had been fighting for a full day. Satine could only go through the movements. She didn’t want to kill these people.

There was a ghastly point when she had encountered Accolon, and they could only stare upon each other.

“Why?” he had asked again, calling over the horrendous battle sounds.

Hardening her face and her heart, Satine replied, “I have told you this already, Accolon. You know why.” And then because she could not help it, “Now is not the time.”

Leostrial had fought for some of the day, but had retired to the back of the ranks for the evening. Too exhausted to go on, Satine made her way back to his tent.

“Satine,” he said as she entered and collapsed into a chair. Altor was sitting next to him and as she looked at her son, Satine saw him open his eyes and shake his head as if he’d been asleep. She looked at Leostrial.

“What’s going on?” she asked quickly. Altor moved to his mother’s side.

“Nothing, Mama,” he said.

“Leostrial, what were you doing in here?” she asked, not taking her eyes off the man.

Leostrial met her gaze. “Altor’s been helping me.”

“What do you mean?” Satine asked slowly.

“Some children have a very strong inner power. Altor in particular. I’ve been using his power to further my own.”

“Are you insane?” she hissed, standing up in front of Altor. “How dare you use my child like that?”

“It’s okay,” Altor said. “I want to help, and it doesn’t hurt at all.”

Satine stared down at her son. He looked fine. “That’s not the point,” she said softly, turning back to Leostrial.

“I’m sorry,” he said. His voice was deep. “I should have asked your permission. It does not harm him in any way. He can’t even feel it.”

Satine shook her head, sinking back down into her chair. “I’m too tired for this right now. But it’s not okay—I want to talk about this more later,” she warned. Altor and Leostrial both nodded. Altor was grinning ear to ear.

“Have some food,” he offered his mother, but Satine thought that if she ate now it would not stay in her stomach.

On Leostrial’s other side sat Vezzet, his eyes hungrily resting on Satine. He slowly crossed over to her and sat down.

“My lady,” he drawled, “It is a pleasure to see you again. I should very much like to speak to you when all of this is over. We have a somewhat similar interest.”

His sly smile was wiped clean off his face as she said, “I have no interest in talking to you at all. Please don’t compare the two of us ever again.” Vezzet looked towards Leostrial, then turned back to her, and as though he had not heard a word of what she just said, laid a hand on her thigh.