The Dragon's War (23 page)

“Fortunately, the elves are swift as well,” Raine continued, “and Maeva has sent a large force, possibly eighty thousand, no doubt under the command of Feyden.”

Bristol approached and greeted the Ha’kan warriors with the same relief and humility he had greeted all of the responding aid. The sight of the Ha’kan army, led by the dashing Princess and her First General, had heartened the imperial troops. Rika surveyed the vast expanse of the imperial army with a practiced eye.

“You have almost two hundred thousand here, no?”

“That’s about right,” Bristol said, impressed with the woman’s acumen. She was young, but she knew what she was doing.

“Where would you like us to stage?” Rika asked.

“I was thinking over here to the south, guarding our left flank. That way imperial forces can bear the brunt of a frontal assault since we are the most numerous. And the elves and dwarves can fall in to the north as they arrive, on our right flank.”

For the first time, Rika and Dallan turned their attention to the massive force on the horizon. It was hard not to feel a coldness, even a trace of despair looking at the enormous army. Although both Dallan and Rika had been in battle, this enemy was different: these were Hyr’rok’kin, the awful, flesh-and-blood manifestation of the Underworld, the abominations that vomited into the mortal realm.

“We were envious when we heard we missed your last battle,” Dallan said quietly. “It was a foolish envy.”

Raine was silent for a moment, her ice-blue eyes reflective. “My father’s people were not afraid of death. They welcomed every opportunity to cheat it. The only Scinterians they mourned were those who did not die in battle. They even had a phrase for death, ‘ior’dann’aka,’ which means ‘the lover who will not be denied.’”

Raine turned to Dallan and Rika. “I already have one of those.”

Both women slowly grinned. They would follow this warrior anywhere.

“They’re moving,” Raine said, turning to Bristol.

“What?” Bristol said.

“They have begun moving. Slowly, but they are beginning to advance.”

“Will everyone get here in time?”

“I believe so. My only concern is the dragons. They are the swiftest, but they are also coming the farthest.”

“We should compare resources,” Bristol said to Dallan and Rika. “My command tent is over here.”

The two Ha’kan left with the Knight Commander, and Raine returned to her solitary vigil, staring far across the desert.

The elves arrived in grand style, imposing in their green and gold armor, flying the banners of the Alfar Republic. They were accompanied by the Ha’kan Royal Staff. Dallan ran to greet her mother, then stopped herself short, as did Rika.

“Your Majesty,” Dallan said formally. “I return the throne to its rightful leader.”

Rika pressed her forearm to her armored breastplate. “First General,” she said with the same formality, “I return the army to you.”

A smile played about Halla’s face. “We are honored to accept.” She then hugged her daughter, and the First General clapped an arm on her future successor.

“Well done, you two,” Senta said.

Dallan turned to Skye, and crushed the young woman in an embrace before she held her at arm’s length. “I am so sorry, Skye.”

“Thank you,” Skye said simply, then turned her attention to the dark cloud on the horizon. “They are moving.”

It was unsurprising that the keen-eyed Tavinter had seen what only Raine had perceived thus far.

“Yes. Raine said they are moving slowly, but they are moving.”

Feyden dismounted and greeted his old comrade, Bristol.

“Bristol, this is Commander Ayen. He will be leading the elven forces.”

“Not you?” Bristol said.

“No,” Feyden said, “I have no doubt as to my skills as a warrior, but he is a better general than am I. I will leave him to the strategy of the troop movements. I,” he said nodding out at the solitary figure standing watch, “will be fighting at that one’s side.”

“Understood,” Bristol said. He turned to Lorifal.

“Most of your people are already here,” he said.

The Knight Commander was joined by Nerthus, who assumed command of half the imperial forces. He invited the Ha’kan Royal Staff and the dwarven and elven commanders to his tent where they further discussed resources. Torsten reunited with Skye, and the Tavinter had a heartfelt reunion with their beloved leader. Idonea, Dagna, Lorifal, and Elyara stood with Feyden, all watching the solitary figure.

“She has been standing like that for two days,” a nearby soldier proffered.

“Let me go see what this is about,” Idonea said, and began picking her way carefully across the harsh landscape.

“It’s funny, isn’t it,” Dagna commented. “Idonea fairly despised Raine when we set out on that quest so many years ago, and now they are so close.”

Idonea came up beside Raine, and Raine acknowledged her presence with a brief nod, then returned to her vigil. There was a tension about the Scinterian that Idonea had never seen before, a tightness in her posture, a conservation in her movement that suggested she might snap in two if she moved too quickly. Her breathing was slow and even, but purposefully measured, like the breath of someone laboring underneath an enormous weight.

“What?” Idonea said at last.

The silence stretched out and Idonea did not think Raine was going to respond.

“The hand of fate,” Raine said, “I feel as if the hand of fate is reaching out and closing in around me.”

“You have always told me that you will make your own fate.”

These words had a pronounced effect on Raine. They provided succor, encouragement, reminded her who and what she was.

“Thank you,” Raine said, truly grateful for the words. She hugged Idonea, then returned to her steely-eyed watch.

Idonea moved a short distance away to join Drakar, and her brother hugged her more chastely than he had in his entire life. They both watched Raine stand staring across the bleak landscape. Although the exchange had brought comfort to Raine, the words had done no such thing for Idonea.

The army was getting closer. The call to general assembly was sent forth, and all the armies obeyed. On the left flank were the Ha’kan, a hundred thousand strong. On the right flank were the elves and dwarves, a hundred and fifty thousand in all. And in the center were two hundred thousand imperial soldiers.

The Tavinter archers would target the flying Shards. The Ha’kan archers would target the lumbering Marrow Shards. The Alfar archers would target the Hyr’rok’kin foot soldiers, and the wood elves would target the Reapers and any other magical atrocities, for the woodland warriors bore an arsenal of enchanted weapons.

And at the front of this glorious army stood Raine. A short distance behind her stood Idonea, Elyara, Dagna, Lorifal, and Feyden. Soon, Idonea and Elyara would move back to where they could wield their magic out of harm’s way. They had debated leading with Idonea’s wave of sand, but decided against it. It was a killing blow, effective because they had mounted a charge and slaughtered the fallen. But they did not want to wade into the midst of this enemy and possibly be surrounded, and given the size of the approaching army, that was very possible. Elyara could raise temporary barriers, but she could not raise walls sufficient to keep this army out.

Raine could see the Horde very well, now. Not enough to make out individuals, but enough to make out individual features of the army. She could see the outlines of the catapults, the slithery presence of the Reapers, the bulk and size of the Marrow Shards. She could see the bounding of a pack of hell hounds, straining against their leashes. By her calculations, just in terms of numbers, they were outmatched two, possibly three-to-one. There were more than a million Hyr’rok’kin approaching on the horizon.

Raine went through options in her head once more. Because of the numbers, she had outlined clear circumstances for an orderly retreat. The Ha’kan would head south, the imperials due west, and the elves and dwarves would disappear back into the Deep Woods. They would all continue to fight, falling back in planned, coordinated maneuvers. Splitting the forces would be dangerous, but Raine was betting that the Hyr’rok’kin were not disciplined enough to maintain ranks in a perceived rout, and they would be easier to fight scattered. The elves and dwarves would have good cover, and the Tavinter were particularly good at laying traps in their wake, so the Ha’kan would be protected. The imperials would need help, and Raine would be their rear guard if retreat became necessary.

Her steel-blue eyes returned to the catapults. Retreat would not be the first option. Skye would try and take out as many of those as possible. This thought brought her head around and her gaze to the heavens once more, scanning the northeast for signs of the dragons. They still had not been seen, and that could be a real problem. Right now they had only Drakar. An enormous gold dragon flew leisurely over the Hyr’rok’kin troops, accompanied by several lesser dragons. Gimle thought she could protect the troops from their fire with her wards for a short time, and Idonea thought she could deal with some of the lesser dragons with her spells. But that would drain Idonea, and that still left Volva. Raine had spoken quietly with Skye about the possibility of needing her to clear a path to one of the catapults without destroying it. That way Raine could lead an assault squad, her, Feyden, Lorifal, and a handful of others, to capture the catapult and use it against the enemy dragons. Her eyes returned skyward. That is, if her love did not arrive soon.

The details of the Horde became visible. The dark blobs became distinct soldiers, the bouncing packs became individual hell hounds, the slithery vapors emerged as Reapers. These last were particularly horrifying for few had ever seen them, and their two-tone shrieks, one high and one low, became audible. Even from that distance they could see their fang-lined maws, gullets so deep they disappeared into the earth itself. The dumb, brutal faces of the Marrow Shards were evident, grinning with anticipation, drool running down their chests and dowsing the foot soldiers below. The army marched forward, yelling and screaming, howling and growling, screaming and shrieking.

Raine gave one last glance to the northeast sky, then turned to face her enemy. She raised her arm. The Queen and First General of the Ha’kan took a deep breath. The Knight Commanders of the Imperial Army tensed. The elven and dwarven commander steeled themselves.

And the army of Hyr’rok’kin stopped.

Raine’s arm hovered in the air. Not only did the Hyr’rok’kin stop, they grew silent. The screams and shrieks ceased. The creaking of the catapults went quiet. The hell hounds sat down on their haunches. Even the dragons landed with a distant thud.

“What are they waiting for?” Feyden murmured.

Raine slowly lowered her arm. She was cold. Colder than she had ever been before. She knew exactly what they were waiting for.

The ground in front of Raine began to shift, shake, turn black as vortex swirled upward from the earth. The vortex twisted, then writhed into a form. The form solidified into black robes, a black crown, and black eyes that transformed into glittering emeralds with a pupil that was slit like a snake, then resolved into normalcy.

But there was nothing normal about the woman who stood before Raine, dwarfing her. She was gorgeous: blood-red lips, startling green eyes, sharp cheekbones, a voluptuous figure that the robes did nothing to hide. Her expression was icy and volcanic, possessing ice and fire that would freeze or burn any mortal so foolish as to touch her. She gazed at Raine with desire, ownership, and victory.

“Hello, my love,” the Goddess of the Underworld said.

The sarcasm in the voice was pronounced as Raine fought to keep from shivering. Her body always responded to evil by growing cold, and right now she was freezing. The blue and gold scars on her body were livid as if they strained to rip themselves from her skin. She took an inadvertent step back, which told her somewhere in the back of her mind that Hel was not yet restraining her: she still could move. Very slowly and deliberately, Hel extended the scepter she held and traced an oval in the air next to her. A glowing, burning portal opened.

Raine sought to keep her teeth from chattering. “You cannot take me from the mortal realm.”

“Ah, and that has been your mistake all along,” Hel said. She cast a significant glance at the portal.

The sounds of a horrific struggle emanated from the portal, as if some poor creature were in a fight for its very life. There were cries of pain, the clamor of thrashing, and the thud of blunt force on flesh. Demons shrieked and screamed, but Raine could not yet make out what hapless victim was under attack.

Hel casually continued her conversation, her malice palpable. “You see, you were under the impression that it was
you
I wanted all this time.”

Raine stared at the portal in growing comprehension and horror. The tempo of the struggle was increasing, and the cry of the injured creature rang out. The cry was followed by a roar of pain from the desperately fighting creature. The Goddess confirmed Raine’s rising understanding as her green eyes glittered.

“When it was Talan I wanted all along.”

“No!” Raine cried. She took a step forward and stopped herself. Her hands went to the swords on her back, twirling them with a snap to the ready position. She stood, poised with indecision, straining to hear the struggle.

The Goddess was nonchalant. “I knew that Talan was using that bracelet to pass through Nifelheim. And I knew that if I threatened you, she would again try to come to your aid.” Hel’s eyes gleamed. “This time, I was waiting for her.”

Another cry of anguished pain split the air, and it was too much for Raine. She took two steps forward and dived headfirst through the portal.

“Raine!” Skye screamed. Dallan and Rika barely caught her before she ran forward.

“So predictable,” Hel said with a sigh, closing the portal with a wave of her hand.

“You cannot take them from the mortal realm!” Skye screamed at the Goddess. “You cannot take them from the mortal realm!” She fought to free herself while Dallan tried to hold on to her for her own safety. She feared that Hel would strike Skye down.