Bones of the Empire (48 page)

“Four Turessians out there with the undead,” she whispered into his ear, and Estin struggled to turn his face out of the snow so he could breathe. “We’re stuck right here until they leave. Stay down, Estin, and stop making that choking sound.”

Grumbling, Estin slapped her hand off his shirt and settled more comfortably onto the ground. As he looked out at the thousands of undead, he saw the four Feanne was talking about, moving slowly through the lines, their black robes standing out easily against the snow. They were conspicuous, even half a mile away.

Apparently having seen them too, Alafa and Barlen were practically buried in the snow to hide themselves, though if the Turessians had been closer, they would have seen Barlen’s antlers sticking up like a trembling, leafless bush.

“Estin!” Alafa hissed, her large eyes barely above the snow. “The scary furless in black…they tell the stinky furless what to do, right?”

“Yeah,” he answered, his attention still on the Turessians as they neared the front of their army. “Once they’re gone, we can leave. Stay still and they won’t see you.”

To Estin’s surprise, a massive contingent of the undead abruptly ran east. The Turessians gestured and shouted at the undead, sending sections to join those already on their way. Soon only a few hundred undead remained with the Turessians. Estin wondered if this was somehow part of Mairlee’s plan, come to life at the right time. Even if it was not, the odds had just shifted in their favor.

Alafa lifted herself slightly to get a better view before flattening out again. “How long would it take you or the pack-leader to reach our soldiers and get back?”

Estin looked at Alafa in confusion, doing a quick calculation on how long it had taken them to get to the hill. “Twenty minutes. Why?”

“I’m gonna count to ten minutes and we’ll start running. The scary furless will make all the stinky ones chase us. We only have to keep them busy for…uh…five minutes, then. One…two…four…” Before Estin could grab for her, Alafa inched over the hill’s top, to where she would be seen if she made any sudden movements. That also put her well out of his reach. A second later, Barlen scooted over the hill after her.

Estin’s heart skipped a beat. He looked over to Feanne, who was already hurriedly backing away through the snow to make a run for the troops. She appeared to have had the same thought as he did: Alafa could not count and likely did not even know how many seconds were in a minute. They had no idea how much time they had. Tackling Alafa to keep her from trying her plan would draw far too much attention, and if they were very unlucky, any attempt to drag Alafa back would lead to her screaming.

Scrambling after Feanne, Estin ran as soon as he was sure they were out of sight of the Turessians. Both of them dropped to all fours to maintain their speed in the deep snow, cresting the next hill and picking up pace as they descended toward their army, spread across the plains beyond. As soon as they came into sight, Estin spotted Linn near the front lines with a group of armored dark elves, all of whom ran to alert others before Estin and Feanne could arrive.

By the time they slid to a stop at the bottom of the hill, hundreds of soldiers marched their way, either already armed and armored or still pulling on gear as they walked. Torches were being waved at the edges of the camp, alerting those farther out that they should prepare for battle. Linn was efficient, that was certainly something Estin had to give him. From the look of things, the rest of the camp was quickly packing, and more soldiers were forming a second rank as they got out of their tents. He thought he saw Turess among them, but he had been far too busy planning the last few days for Estin to expect to see him ready for battle.

“We have a distraction running some Turessians in circles,” Feanne announced as she reached Linn, who had his helm strapped to his belt and his shield already on his back. “Four Turessians and at most four hundred undead. There were thousands more zombies, but they just ran off. We won’t get another chance like this, and we can’t wait, in case they come back.”

“Alafa,” Linn muttered. He whistled and gave hand signals to a distant group of soldiers, who took off running. “Trust me, not the first time. I’ll have people over the rise within minutes. With luck, we won’t have to drag her back to a healer again.”

“Again?” Estin asked in shock. “She’s terrified of her own shadow.”

“And yet she thinks the way to fight our enemies is to run right past them repeatedly. It works, but it’s not safe. She’ll do it no matter what I tell her, Estin. As stupid as it is, she’s saved us a hundred men or more with her and her mate’s tactics. They drive the Turessians crazy. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they had a bounty on her hide by now.”

Nervously rubbing his neck, Estin watched the troops race up the hill. He would never forgive himself if Alafa or Barlen died. He considered her little better than a child and could not let himself think about what the Turessians would do to her if she was caught. Estin barely knew Barlen, but as Alafa’s mate, he had no desire to see him hurt either. They were the only other survivors of Lihuan’s pack and were as good as family.

“Feanne, get the wolves,” Estin said as he started back up the hill, though she had already headed that way. “We need a healer out there, just in case. I’m going with the forward line.”

Catching him by the wrist, Feanne pulled Estin close and nuzzled his cheek before stepping back and smiling at him coyly. “I will see you on the field of battle. Go.”

With Linn at his side, somehow keeping up in a hundred pounds of armor, Estin ran up the hill after the soldiers. He knew it likely had only been about fifteen minutes by the time he crested the hill again, but he feared the worst. Explosions in the distance echoed through the hills. The crackle of magical lightning was unmistakable.

As he came over the hill behind the soldiers, Estin finally got a clear view of the plains ahead, and for a moment, he really thought he had been too slow. Massive burned sections had filled with melted snow, and more spells went off every few seconds, blowing snow and dirt a dozen feet into the air. Then he realized that around every crater were dozens of either unmoving or badly damaged zombies, having been ripped apart by magic. He followed the next series of spells and saw Alafa and Barlen darting through the zombies at a dead run, narrowly avoiding the certain death that came with the Turessian spells. The zombies were far slower than the deer, often getting caught in a ball of flame or bolt of lightning. A quick tally told Estin that nearly a quarter of the enemy force was down, if not destroyed, while the Turessians angrily tried to catch the two deer.

“Stupid but effective,” Linn reminded him, pulling on his helm and tightening its strap under his jaw. “I thought everyone from the old pack was crazy, but every one of them has been amazing. I’d give anything to have the force we had in the canyon. Those people, with some decent preparations and tactics, could have won this war already. Let’s show those four down there that we’re not a force to be reckoned with.”

Linn whistled sharply, and the soldiers began down the hill toward the Turessians, who had their backs turned. With luck, they would not even notice the charge until Linn’s men were on them.

Seconds later, the first of Linn’s soldiers crashed into the zombies. The soldiers cut through the undead like paper, chopping down another hundred or more before the Turessians even knew there was an attack coming. The four robed humans scrambled to turn their army, but the undead were slow to understand, many pivoting the wrong way. By the time Estin and Linn reached the bottom of the hill, nearly half of the enemy force was on the ground, with more dropping each second.

Howls behind Estin gave him cause to smile. Dozens of werewolves, several werebears, and even a handful of dire wolves raced past him and then past the soldiers. They cut a swath through the enemy army and went right for the four Turessians, who were backing away, using the zombies as shields. Magical explosions dropped several of the werewolves, only to have them stand seconds later and shake off their injuries before charging again. The battlefield was utter chaos, with the undead unsure what to do and the Turessians forced back to back as they struggled against the lycanthropes.

“Estin!” Alafa cried, loping out of the melee with Barlen at her back, grinning like an idiot. “You had a great plan! It worked! Thanks!”

Estin bit down on his tongue to keep from saying anything about not having made the plan.

Linn’s soldiers began bringing their wounded to the back lines. He ran to them, meeting the injured and dying before they were placed on the ground. He moved from one to the next as quickly as he could, trying to prioritize the worst off, channeling a rush of healing magic into each. When he would lift his hand to go to the next, the horrible gashes and claw marks would already be closing. Within minutes, he had everyone in decent shape again, with only one life lost.

It felt good to be needed on the battlefield again, despite his racing heart. The exertion had passed far beyond mental and had started to take a toll on his body. He very nearly collapsed once bodies were no longer being brought to him. But then he saw Feanne and the lycanthropes had boxed in the four Turessians. Rishad, Turess, and Linn hurried over to help.

A bone-rattling shriek echoed across the plains, and Estin looked up in time to see a werewolf reduced to little more than ash at a gesture from one of the Turessians. The robed man turned his attention on Feanne next, and Estin realized he was much too far away to help.

Magical energy flared and faded as it slammed into an invisible barrier in front of Feanne. Searching the people nearest her, Estin spotted Turess. He frantically went through the motions of one spell after another, intercepting every attack the Turessians made against the werewolves and soldiers. Soon the four Turessians slowed, then stopped their casting and huddled to stay out of reach of the werewolves, held back only by Feanne’s repeatedly shouted orders.

As though his legs were unsteady, Turess put his weight on a dwarven woman beside him to keep himself upright. Even at a distance, Estin could see the bracelet he wore steaming, the skin near it burned and blistered. There was a story to that item that Estin dearly wanted to know and what little he had been told was not everything.

Running to join Feanne, Estin realized the Turessians had not so much relented as they had been contained. Turess still stood nearby, ready to deflect any magic the Turessians managed to weave despite his exhaustion. But it was Rishad who had actually stopped them. He held a hand high, and when Estin shifted his vision, he saw tendrils of magic wrapping all four of the Turessians, funneling all of their magic away in a blossom of energy.

Without their magic, the four men stood nervously watching the werewolves and bears, apparently unsure what to do. In all actuality, Estin knew they were probably still strong enough to kill many of those around them. They had their limits, though, and their attention was shifting rapidly between Rishad and Turess. There was enough doubt to keep them from acting.

“How many does he have?” Feanne was asking as Estin came over. “How many of…you.”

One of the men eyed her the way one might look at an unpleasant present a puppy had left on the rug. “Thousands. We will overrun the nations and beat you back into the caves from which…”

At a flick of Feanne’s hand, one of the werewolves tackled the man and bit down on his face, crushing his skull loudly. The wolf spit out bone and gore, remaining atop the Turessian as his injuries slowly healed. After about thirty seconds, the Turessian was nearly whole and watching the werewolf in horror.

“Let us try this again,” Feanne said, crossing her arms. “How many does he really have?”

“Tell her nothing,” snapped another of the Turessians. “Dorralt can probably hear everything she’s saying. If anything, she’s helping him gauge numbers.”

Laughing, Feanne walked closer. “If he has to gauge our numbers, he does not have thousands of you. With thousands, he would not concern himself with how many we bring. A hundred of you would crush us, and we both know it. Your own words tell me he likely has only a few dozen.”

The last man who had spoken opened his mouth, but his face abruptly went slack and all tension in his muscles fell away. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed to his knees. Then, as though yanked back to his knees by strings, he looked around quickly with glowing red eyes. A malicious smile slowly spread across his lips.

“Hello, Dorralt,” Rishad said, keeping his hand up to maintain the spell over the others. “Nice of you to join us. Care to add anything to the discussion? We’re rather busy here.”