The Crimson Claymore (39 page)

By midafternoon, they had reached the top and began the journey back down the small mountain. When they looked north toward the draeyk settlements, they found a strange sight. All seemed deserted. Searon looked questioning at the wizard, who shrugged nonchalantly. An eagle flew by, which Starlyn called to with a great whistle, and after it circled around them once, it came to her and landed on her outstretched hand.

“Tell me, king of the sky, why are these settlements deserted; where are the creatures who inhabited them?” she whispered.

The eagle nodded to the south before it leaped from her hand and took off again. Her eyes widened in dismay as she turned to listen to the bird whistle in the air. She shifted south and stared disbelievingly before turning to Searon with her mouth agape.

“What is it?” he asked.

“They are heading south,” she said.

“How many?”

“Thousands, all of them from this region.”

“Where are they heading?”

Karceoles stepped up and stared into the south with repulsion. “Where else…Sudegam.”

“That is not all,” Starlyn whispered.

“What is it?” Searon asked.

“When the eagle left, he told me that not only do these northern creatures head south, but the southern beasts do as well, and a new creature, a desert creature, marches with them as well.”

“The daerions…and the nacropis? How many total?” Searon had the chills.

“An eagle does not count the same as you and I, but if I were to guess I would say thirty thousand.”

“So it is as I feared; the races have united,” Karceoles whispered.

Etherond stepped up to Searon, hand gripped tightly on the hilt of his sword. “We are many, but even I don’t know if we are a match.”

“We will stalk them to kheshlarn territory and attack from behind when they least expect it. Once they enter the land of kheshlars, they will have no choice but to fight them,” Karceoles said.

“We won’t survive,” Etherond gasped.

Karceoles turned to Starlyn. “Go, and warn the kheshlars about this.”

Starlyn looked to Searon, who nodded, and she began running south at a speed none of the men knew she had. She took a path to avoid running into the army but she still seemed cautious about her every step. Tears masked her face of fear as she ran with all speed toward her homeland.

“What if the kheshlars come too late when we attack them…or what if they don’t come at all?” Etherond asked.

“That is a chance we are going to have to take. We can no longer win this war without the kheshlarn support. We can either defeat this common enemy with their aid, or die slowing them down and causing enough damage to make it easier for the kheshlars to be victorious. I suggest that you begin praying to your creator,” Karceoles said.

Etherond gulped as he took one last look toward the south. Searon stepped beside him and placed his hand on his shoulder.

“Will you join me in prayer?” Searon asked.

Chapter 42

R
est felt like something of the past as Searon pressed forward with his stallion between the vast hills heading south. He had to make sure his army stayed far behind him and kept quiet, a task that he presented to Etherond in hopes that his loud mouth could stay silent if for only a time. Only Karceoles kept pace with him on his own horse, and the two of them kept an eye on the steady army of draeyks and daerions that headed south. They would arrive at the forest soon, and it would prove even harder to keep an eye on them without being seen or losing them. Searon knew that he would have to place scouts through the forest, but he hoped that they would not be discovered, otherwise their surprise attack would be in vain.

Through the midst of the army, there appeared to be a man in black robes mounted on a tall ebony stallion, zylek in hand, and barking orders to all the creatures surrounding him. There was a familiarity about him, and after a moment Searon recognized him as the same man from Legain. Before, he hadn’t noticed that he was a wizard because he was hiding in his hood without a zylek to be seen, but now his hood was down and dark-gray hair tangled down past his chest. In his hands he held a twisted wooden zylek warped in shadows to match his dark attire.

Soon, the thin pine trees and autumn maples and oaks became thicker pine, and they knew they were drawing closer to the kheshlarn territory. With the abundant amount of large pine, it made it easier for them to hide in the shadows behind the army. It was not difficult to track them with how primitive they were. They were also able to resume conversations at a quiet whisper without fear of being overheard.

“They have a wizard,” Searon said.

“No follower of the dark is considered a wizard,” Karceoles said trotting next to him.

“Dark wizard?” Searon asked.

“Dare I call a kheshlar one of your kind, a dark human?”

“I suppose you could, that is, if you really wanted to. I, however, find that fallen or wicked would fit nicer.”

“Wicked?”

Searon smirked, “Yeah, wicked wizard.”

“If you want to act a fool, then yes you may call him that. However, a warlock would be what he truly is. A corrupted wizard that has fallen to the darker powers of magic where power means more to him than preservation of life.”

“Warlock, got it.”

“His name is Zergiel, once he was a guardian of peace – a part of the magic council that protected these lands,” Karceoles said.

“There is a council that protects Calthoria?”

“Not anymore, it has long since disbanded. Long ago there were dark times where there were far more evil than mere draeyks and daerions tormenting the land. The last effective use of the council would have been the battle against the dragons. There are few of us left, Shronan and I are all that is left I’m afraid except for Zergiel. Most of the mages and wizards have since been lost or destroyed, and if there are any druids left they have not let themselves be known.”

“Druids?”

“They are more a legend now than a reality; once they roamed the land through the forests, protecting the wildlife with magic and being one with nature. This was back when kheshlars did not fear magic, but practiced it with druid help. Nature was more alive when they were about than ever.”

“So what happened to Zergiel?” Searon asked.

“He betrayed the guardians, killing many of them, craving power in the end before he disappeared.”

Searon left the matter there as he saw that the topic didn’t seem to be one of the wizard’s favorites. The forest continued to get thicker around them as they entered in kheshlarn territory with trees so tall that they made all the men appear insignificant in comparison. He decided to wait for attack until they were far enough in the kheshlarn territory that would leave no choice but for the kheshlars to defend their land, but not too far in that harm would come to them. There was a long stretch of kheshlarn territory that many roamed before entering the capital of Sudegam.

Nobody else knew when the ideal moment would be because even Searon hadn’t decided yet. Everyone followed his judgment and actions without question except for Leinard, who traveled close behind with a few mutters under his breath about what actions he would take that would be more productive. An opening presented itself a mile north of Sudegam when the army stopped to plot their attack rallying around the warlock. At that moment, Searon knew that it would have to be then or never to begin his attack, and it would be best to catch the dark force unaware.

Reaching down to his sash, he felt at the wrong side absently for his weapon and found a scabbard of his large throwing knife. Surprise filled him as he felt that the weapon was back in place. The last he remembered, it was still embedded in a human in the haunted village. He had never gone to pull it out, and yet there it was back in place, and it wasn’t until then that he began to believe its enchantment. Withdrawing it from his sash, he galloped forward.

“Charge!” he yelled into the twilight air.

Hair fluttered about his neck where it draped through his crimson-and-gold helm that he secured atop his head. Blood boiled through his veins with the electric feeling of heading into battle. His stallion was in the front for only a short time as the rest of the cavalry caught up and rushed ahead of him for protection. As he neared the force, he heaved the long throwing knife at a daerion where it penetrated through the veins in its neck and collapsed to the ground.

The dark army was caught completely unaware as the cavalry blasted through them, knocking down ranks of creatures to never return to their feet. Searon only kept a few ranks back as he sliced at the creatures as well as he could with the long claymore in his hands. Most humans would not be able to wield such a large weapon while mounted, but his strength and agility was exceptional for a man. Many of the others held lances and pikes as they charged the ranks, with short swords attached to scabbards at their hips for extra protection when they needed it.

All around him, creatures fell as they tried to form rank to the surprising attack, but many of their defensive warriors were on the far side and closest to Sudegam as they were supposed to be the first ranks to strike the city. Instead, most of their crossbow soldiers were in the back and crumbled under ranks of cavalry and men as they rushed in. The advantage seemed theirs as they pressed in, losing few men and striking down the creatures three to one.

Searon paid little consideration to the battle tactics, as he knew that his captains would be working things out with everyone. He wished that Andron were with him now, and the thought of his old friend brought a wrath to Searon that he hadn’t known since the slaughter of his family. One after another, the creatures fell before him, pounded into the ground; any that attempted to get up were smashed by the men with maces and hammers behind him.

Etherond trotted up next to him with his brown stallion and fought alongside the cunning general, fueling off Searon’s intense drive, and the two of them formed an impenetrable V that zigzagged as they rushed forward. The broadsword nearly mirrored Searon’s own attacks, and besides, the sword itself looked very similar in design with a crimson-and-gold hilt slightly smaller and a blade as thick except for its length being considerably easier to handle from horseback. Not everyone could use a broadsword with such skill and maneuverability to strike in such a way to make each curve of the blade effective, but Etherond had years of practice. His ability to catch attacks by twisting his weapon so either an axe or machete would snag between the curves, more than making up for his lesser swordsmanship skill than Searon.

Together, they galloped forward, breaching a path toward both the wizard and the mage on the east to place a defense in front of them. Orange energy spiraled out of the wizard's zylek into flame that encircled all the surrounding creatures. Another blast left his zylek in a zigzag pattern that forked from the main stream to slam like lightning into the bodies of a dozen more creatures. Thunder blasted with an echo as the orange electricity pulsed through the draeyks and daerions alike. Each new creature that stepped too close to the others became entwined in the magic as well and fell to the ground by their comrades, convulsing.

“You look a little fried!" Karceoles shouted. "There isn't quite anything like fried lizard,” he chuckled as he used his zylek as a staff to smack creatures as he sped past atop his horse.

"Reckless fool,” Sh'on muttered with rolled eyes atop his own mare.

The wizard didn't seem to care what his cousin, the mage, thought as he continued to blast forth flames, lightning, and spheres of orange light to any creature around him. There seemed to be excitement in his eyes as they glowed brighter than a child on their birthday. A sinister grin formed upon his face as he released energy that he spent so much time trying to contain. The only time he truly looked happy was when he was in the midst of battle.

Searon and Etherond positioned themselves to contain the flow of enemies on the front side, which caused the wizard to change his direction of spells to his right. Now that he was no longer alone with Searon's charge close at hand, he reined in his spells, and they became less chaotic and more focused. He seemed to focus on a greater area of the enemy with his new attacks, calling forth magical rainfalls of fire that fell amid the ranks of draeyks and daerions. Many of his newer attacks were as simple as knocking opponents down to let the surrounding warriors finish them off. It seemed he did know how to play it smart and use little energy when the task called for it, yet it seemed that whenever the battle started, he contained the need to impress.

Sh'on fought on Searon's left side, casting a dazzling series of simple flows of green magic. He maneuvered his hands in patterns, causing them to glow with a green hue as he directed his spells toward the draeyks and daerions. Most of his magic was used to knock creatures forward or back in order for the surrounding human warriors to strike their foes down with ease. His enemies would highlight in emerald as his magic touched them before they were cast aside to fall upon a piercing or blunt weapon.

In the midst of the opposing army, he created a crater in the center, causing them to concave into a V, making a gap that became easily accessible for the charging cavalry. There seemed to be no need in using powerful magic for the mage, as the wizard seemed so fond of using, when there were hundreds of warriors galloping forward to strike down the foes that he tossed to the ground with magic. It was a strategy that he already discussed with them in detail before the attack, one that Karceoles fought hard against but ultimately accepted.

Sh'on seemed to notice the fire rain that the wizard created and appeared to get an idea of his own. He strained as he focused his energy into a sphere that glowed with more passion than anything previously seen, and after a few enchanted words he shot the globe of magic into the clouds. At first, nobody could tell what he did, but when a brilliant white cloud turned green and fell over the middle ranks of the creatures they could see the thick ice rain that stormed down. Everything that descended appeared as green snow, but when it fell upon the rough skin of the daerions, or the scales of the draeyks, it seemed to freeze them ever so slightly so that their movements grew sluggish.