Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series (38 page)

Flare had caught Philip's look, and although not exactly sure what to expect, he had prepared himself. Seeing Philip's charge, Flare kicked his horse forwards. The nearest soldier to him was the one that turned completely towards Philip's fake charge. As soon as Philip pulled up, the soldier tried to whip back around, but he only made it half way. Flare slashed at the man's head and neck, and blood sprayed from the wound, and the soldier also fell screaming.

Philip stopped his charge, and waited a moment. Flare and Atock had followed his lead and engaged the soldiers. Philip saw Flare take out his man quickly enough, and Atock was squared off against another. That left the one that had been facing Philip the whole time. As soon as Flare sent the soldier to the ground screaming, the last soldier glanced backwards to see what was happening. It wasn't much of a distraction, but it was what Philip had been waiting for. He spurred his horse forwards and leaned out of the saddle to swing horizontally at the soldier. This soldier hadn't panicked; his glance backwards was a ruse. As Philip leaned sideways to swing, the soldier jumped at him, wrapping his left arm around Philip's sword arm, stopping the swing before it really began. The soldier threw his right arm over Philip, pulling him from the saddle.

Philip hit the ground hard, with the soldier lying across the top of him. Philip's sword flew from his hand, and he tried to feel frantically for it. The soldier still held his sword, but Philip's left arm was still wrapped around the soldier's sword arm, and Philip held on for dear life. If the soldier managed to get his sword arm free, then it was all over. The soldier gave a huge pull, trying to yank his arm free, but Philip had a death grip and wouldn't let go, he was just hoping that Flare or Atock noticed his predicament.

Philip grimaced, as the young man tried to pull his arm free again. He managed to hold on, but the arm was starting to slip away. Philip cursed himself for getting into this position; he had badly misjudged this man. Up close now, he could see the scar that ran along the soldiers jaw. His nose was crooked too; it looked like he had gotten it broken in a fight.

The young soldier slammed his forehead down on Philip's face. A sharp pain burst in Philip's nose, and he felt blood flowing freely. Using the surprise that his maneuver had earned him, the soldier yanked his arm free and raised his sword over his head.

Philip lay there, stunned from the blow. He could barely make out his opponent standing over him and raising his sword for the death blow. He tensed and closed his eyes, as he waited for the blow that would take his life.

Grinning, the soldier started the downward swing, but it never reached its target. He stopped mid-swing, and the sword dropped from his hand. He opened his mouth, and blood leaked out over his chin, and then he fell forwards across Philip.

Philip almost lost control of his bodily functions, and he looked in confusion for what had happened.

Smiling, Flare looked down at Philip. “You look horrible.” He then reached forward and pulled the end of his sword free from the young soldier's back. “Good thing that I got here when I did. I guess that's one that you owe me.”

Philip slumped as the relief rushed over him, and he took Flare's offered hand.

Atock was not so lucky. Like Flare, he charged as soon as Philip moved. However, the soldier nearest him, the one who had offered to let them surrender, had not fallen for the ruse and remained facing Atock. In that split second before their swords made contact, Atock seemed to remember that the man's name was
Erin
. Was that it? 'Doesn't look scared', Atock thought, and that bothered him.

Atock brought his sword in a downward swing, and the soldier deflected it easily. Atock tried to swing again, but his horse, now terrified by the smell of blood in the air, chose that moment to rear. He had a good grip on the reins, and as soon as his horse started to rear, he tightened his grip with his knees, so there wasn't any fear of Atock falling off, but the rearing of his horse pulled the soldier out of sword reach.

Erin
had been a soldier long enough to know that the only way to survive a fight was to keep your wits. He had been in several border skirmishes to the east, unlike the other soldiers in this squad. They had begun the fight with numbers in their favor, but they had been overwhelmed by the men on horseback, mainly due to the surprise of the attack. Even so, they still had a chance as long as the men didn't lose their heads and remembered their training. He forced himself to remain calm as the black rider bore down on him. He deflected the overhand blow easily enough, and then the rider's horse reared, pulling the black man high up in the air. Acting on impulse,
Erin
drove the point of his sword straight out and up, right into the chest of the rearing horse. The horse screamed and fell backwards and sideways, trying to get away from the intense pain.

“Stop!” A man's voice called from the edge of the forest. He was dragging the unconscious woman with his arms wrapped around her body under her armpits, and he held a knife to her throat. He had moved closer to the fight, but he was still a good ten yards from them.

Flare finished helping Philip to his feet, and looked around to see who had spoken. Surprise washed over him. He had forgotten about the seventh soldier, the one who had remained near the woman. He silently cursed himself, they were lucky the soldier hadn't charged into the battle. He could easily have attacked one of them from behind.

Just then a moan came from under a fallen horse, and Flare and Philip rushed over to see Atock pinned by the dead animal. In the confusion of the battle, they hadn't noticed his plight.

“Are you okay?” Flare asked, as he and Philip started pulling the dead horse off of Atock. As they pulled, they kept checking on the soldier and the woman, they were slowly coming closer to the road.

“I've been better, but I'm not seriously hurt.” Atock answered a little groggily, when the horse was off of him. “What happened to the guy that I was fighting?”

Flare's head whipped up. He hadn't noticed the missing soldier, and he quickly recounted. There were five dead or dying soldiers lying at his feet, and the sixth one with the woman. Where was the seventh? Undoubtedly, he had run for help. It wouldn't take long for reinforcements to arrive, since they were this close to the capital, so they had to get moving quickly.

“I said stop!” The young soldier repeated. His voice quavered as he spoke, his fear showing though. “If you don't, I will kill her.”

“So?” Flare answered. “You would have done that anyway.”

The soldier stopped moving, and a look of confusion came over his face. “Well, you attacked us, so you must want her alive.”

Flare glanced along the road towards the city. How long had
Erin
been gone? If he got back with reinforcements before they got moving, then they were all dead, and Flare was sure that it wouldn't be a pleasant death. Well, was any death pleasant? Turning back to the soldier and woman, he said, “Never seen her before.”

“Wh.. Why did you attack us?” The solider asked in a stuttering voice.

“We didn't like the idea of your lieutenant and you taking turns with her.” Flare answered, glaring while he spoke.

“Not to mention offering turns to who ever comes along the road.” Atock added. He too shot a hateful look at the soldier. “Some things just aren't done.” He was still sitting on the ground, near where the horse had fallen on him; he rubbed his hip and leg as he spoke.

The soldier, who was little more than a boy, looked scared. His skin was pale, and he seemed to be breathing hard and sweating. “That wasn't my idea. I didn't want to do that.”

Flare drew his sword again, and the boy flinched backwards, dragging the woman with him. “We don't have the time to argue with you, so I am going to make you a deal.” Flare re-sheathed his sword as he spoke. “Lay the woman down, and we will let you leave. You can go toward the city, and we won't stop you.” Another thought struck him, and he suddenly remembered exactly how close to Dal-Arium they were. There was bound to be a lot of traffic on this road this close to the capital city. His stomach seemed to cramp in urgent fear, and he knew that they needed to get moving now.

The young soldier was sweating heavily now and appeared to be close passing out. He shook his head, “No. No. If I lay her down, then you three will kill me.”

Philip took a step closer, “If you don't let her go, then we will definitely kill you. So, I suggest you take our offer.”

Once again the soldier shook his head, “You'll kill me anyway.” He turned his body slightly, so that the woman was directly between himself and Philip. Philip was the closest guardian to the soldier, and was the most immediate threat.

Flare sighed and started drawing his sword back out of the sheath, but he stopped halfway. The woman had regained consciousness. Her head, which had been lying forward on her chest, rose up, and for the first time, Flare really noticed her. She was thin, without any extra weight on her, and her skin was pale, almost milky. The thought ran through his mind whether she was flushed because of the attack, or if that was her natural coloring. He quickly pushed that thought away, stupid thing to be thinking about at a time like this. Blood ran down the left side of her face, and a patch of her hair was wet, probably where she had been hit. Her hair was dark brown, almost black, and was quite bushy and wild looking. Her shirt was grey and brown, while her pants were a light brown. But the thing that Flare noticed most were her eyes. Even from this many feet away, they seemed to glow a dark emerald green.

As Flare started drawing his sword, the soldier turned again, this time to put the woman between himself and Flare. “Don't do it.” He said breathlessly, “I will kill her.” He started to say something else, but he never got the change. The woman reached over with her right hand and grabbed the soldier's left wrist. The soldier's eyes widened in horror, and he turned a greenish shade. “No!” He shouted, and that was the last thing he ever said.

Flare involuntarily took a step back from the man and woman. A shimmering mist hung all around the pair of them. At first, nothing seemed to change, the boy was standing with his mouth open, but no sound came out. But after a moment, a change started to happen. The young soldier seemed to be drying up. His skin changed from the normal looking skin of a young man to a hard leathery parchment, and finally cracks broke out and ran all across the exposed body. His face sunk in, and soon the boy's whole body seemed to be collapsing in on itself. After several moments, the woman dropped what was left of the soldier to the ground, and what was left couldn't have weighed more than twenty or thirty pounds.

The woman turned her eyes toward the three guardians, and Philip took a step back, his hands dropping to his sword hilt.

Flare flung up his empty hands, “Wait. We stopped these men from killing you. We're not going to hurt you.”

The woman looked around where the battle had taken place. She studied the dead soldiers all around the guardians' feet. “Thank you,” she said, without looking at them. “But I wish that I could have done it myself.”

Flare and Philip exchanged glances, and they seemed to be thinking the same thing. What in the name of the abyss just happened?

“Uhm. Excuse me, but are you okay?” Flare asked.

The woman raised her head and gazed directly at him, and he couldn't help but gulp when those unearthly dark green eyes hit him. “I will be fine.” She said quietly. “In fact my wounds are already healed.”

“But all that blood,” Flare started, but then noticed that she did look better. Her skin now had some color to it, and he couldn't see any fresh blood running down her face. “How is that possible, and what did you do to him?”

She didn't answer Flare's question, but instead quickly turned her head to the south. “Riders are coming.” There was a note of urgency in her voice. “We must leave immediately.”

“How do you know that?” Philip asked, as he followed the path of the road with his eyes. “I can't hear anything.”

The woman gave an exasperated sigh, “Do you want to stand here asking me questions until those riders show up? We do not have the time for that!” She turned and started moving toward the forest. “Come with me. They will not pursue us far into the forest, and you don't have a chance of outrunning them on the open road.”

Flare exchanged another glance with Philip. “She's right. We can't outrun them.”

“Maybe not.” Philip said, “But I don't like the idea of being alone with her in the forest.”

Atock climbed to his feet, limping as he did so. His left leg was painful to walk on. “If we stay here, then we die slowly and painfully. Can what she might do to us be worse than that?”

“Kind of hard to argue with that logic,” Flare said, moving over to help Atock.

The woman stood at the edge of the forest, “Are you coming?”

“Yes!” Flare said, “Just give us a moment.” He and Philip started helping Atock to one of the two remaining saddled horses, as Atock's horse had died in the fight. “Will the horses be able to make it through, in there?” Flare called over to the woman, who was anxiously watching the road.

“I can take you on a path that will accommodate them, but hurry!”

Philip and Flare hoisted Atock into the saddle of Flare's horse, and the big warrior gave a grunt of pain. “It's not broken, is it?” Philip asked, tossing the reins up to Atock.

Atock shook his head, and sweat ran down his face. “No. But it sure hurts bad enough.”