Tribe of the Snow Tiger (Legends of Windemere Book 10) (29 page)

“The curses on those who sacrificed to the Second Life can be broken when all four are brought together,” Tigris answers, her voice quivering in uncertainty. She adjusts her polished bracers and tightens one of them that has come loose. “I don’t know exactly how it works. The Second Life planted the answer in my head, but it is like a dream that remains on the edge of my consciousness. If the resurrection turns out to be a mistake and any of the loved ones are in danger because of the ritual then the curses can be lifted. Edric and Timoran will regain their memories. I will be seen and remembered again. Everything will be undone, but it can only happen if I appear at the right moment. Any earlier or later and the curses may become permanent.”

“Which is why you’ve been living in the mountains all these years,” Luke states with a grim nod of his head. Gazing out the nearest window, he frowns at how Vir the crimson moon is already halfway below the horizon. “The right moment sounds like a point where emotions are running high. My guess is that the best time is when Edric has sentenced Timoran and the execution is about to be performed. Now you said everything will be undone. Does that mean your father will die again?”

General Godric coughs before his daughter can answer and rises from his rocking chair. The old warrior leans out the front door and takes a big sniff of the crisp air. A scent on the wind makes his blood boil and a long-sleeping roar echoes in his mind, the effect making his ears twitch. From the sounds and smells of the landscape, he knows that there are enemies marching on Stonehelm. A fiery glint erupts in his eyes at the thought of stepping onto a battlefield and fighting for his people one more time.

“If it does then it does. I’m not supposed to be breathing anyway,” Raynar declares as he crushes part of the frame in his iron-like grip. Walking to a closet, he opens the doors to reveal a suit of a platemail. A roaring tiger’s head is emblazoned on the breastplate and Luke can see the blade of a great axe in the shadows. “All of the gods know I’m supposed to be arm-wrestling Kerr in Eporwil’s tavern while my idiot of a son-in-law and my fool of a daughter raise my grandkids. I didn’t ask to be brought back no matter how much you blame me. So let’s stop talking and get some sleep. I smell a battle on the horizon.”

“A battle?” Tigris asks, surprised at her father’s statement. “I don’t think Edric will be that difficult.”

“If only it were him that we had to fear. Get some sleep.”

Without another word, the General carries his gear into a small bedroom and slams the door closed. Tigris is about to follow when she decides it is better to finish packing and clean the cabin, her anxiety making it impossible to sleep. A wave of melancholy strikes her heart when she realizes that this might be her last night in the small building, which has protected her for many years. Turning to speak to Luke, she sees that he has already fallen into a sleep-like trance that she does not want to snap him out of.

“Thank you for bringing my husband home,” Tigris whispers, giving the half-elf a gentle kiss on the top of his head. Picking up the faint scent of Timoran on the young man’s clothes, she lingers nearby and lets a smile play across her face. “I look forward to meeting your friends and fighting by their side. If they are anything like you then I’m sure Timoran has been in good hands all these years.”

*****

The midday sun glints off the axes and spears of those standing atop Stonehelm’s defensive wall. All of the warriors are at attention while keeping an eye on the army that has stopped at the far end of the valley. There are no tents or fires, telling the barbarians that the battle will be starting within a few hours. Nobody knows who the enemy is until several scouts return from their posts on the cliffs. Within minutes, nearly everyone in Stonehelm knows that the chaos elves have arrived with Queen Trinity at the head of their army. All attempts to contact King Edric have failed as the ruler remains locked in the courthouse with only his trusted advisors to help pass a verdict on Dariana and Timoran. Without any of the War Chieftains to give orders, the guards remain tense and alert in preparation of a chaotic melee. Many consider leaping off the wall and charging ahead to deliver the first attack, but the size of the chaos elf force is enough to keep them at bay.

“Lock the front doors and arm every able-bodied person,” Nyx orders as she steps onto the wall. The half-elf cracks her knuckles and stretches, her violet eyes searching the valley for her rival. “Send all children, elderly, and sick to the library along with two healers. If you have a more secure location then use that. The courthouse doors are locked from the inside and the windows are closed, so we’re on our own until the King finishes his business.”

“You mean Edric the Deceiver,” grumbles one of the soldiers behind Nyx. His head snaps forward and he whirls around to punch whoever slapped him, but pauses when he sees Cyrus. “I only speak the truth. You should hate him too for what he did.”

“I do, but this isn’t the time for pettiness,” the black-haired barbarian replies. He makes a small show of adjusting his wyvern scale bracers and drawing a long-handled hammer off his back. “We don’t know that for a fact that King Edric lied to us. Something is still missing from the puzzle and there are more pressing problems than searching for the piece. We have an army with the audacity to face us head on. These outsiders have given us no warning, no reason for their attack, and hence have shown us no respect. King Edric is the only one we have to lead us and that is what we will let him do. For all his faults and mistakes, we know him to be a wise and brave man. If Kerr bears any ill will toward him then the Barbarian God will judge the Snow Tiger King on the battlefield. Until that time, our job is to make sure our tribe survives and we will not do that by harboring grudges.”

“Well I’m pretty sure a grudge is part of this battle,” Nyx points out, her fingers crackling with lightning. A battle lust is growing in her heart, which ebbs from the tattoo that is throbbing beneath her crimson shirt. “Trinity and I have fought before. She’s another Near God, so leave her to me. I would like to reason with her, but I doubt it will work. By the looks of things, she was sent here to destroy Stonehelm. She won’t stop until the job is done or she loses so many soldiers that she’s forced to retreat. Not unless I’m missing something.”

“Can’t she destroy the city on her own?” Cyrus asks, standing alongside the champion. He peers into the distance to see a solitary figure separating from the stationary army. “She has the same amount of power as you. Why does she need soldiers to attack us?”

“Because she’ll be too busy with me,” the half-elf replies, pulling a flask off her belt. She is about to take a drink, but stops and melts the container instead. “I can’t be drinking before this. I need all of my faculties, especially if I try to talk her out of this. Trinity and I have an odd relationship. Sometimes she’s trying to kill me and other times she’s working to keep me alive. I hope this is the latter.”

“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself.”

“I am because, like I said, I’ve a bad feeling that she’s not going to back down this time.”

“Perhaps there is a way to appeal to her benevolence?”

Nyx rubs her amethyst necklace and bites her lower lip when she sees that it is Trinity walking toward the city. “Amass your forces behind the wall while I meet her in the field. Don’t come out until her army marches. Even if she and I start fighting, do not attempt to make the first move. Chaos elves are tricky and vicious, so it’s best to let them initiate the battle. That way you don’t run into any illusions or traps. By the way, they probably have casters in their ranks. Keep your eyes and ears peeled for anyone chanting, doing odd gestures, or acting like they’re about to unleash a spell.”

“Why should we obey you?” a tattooed archer asks, a longbow slung over her shoulder.

“Because I’m the one who will be stopping the other Near God from burning all of you alive,” Nyx replies, grabbing the woman by the shirt. Red energy coils around the half-elf’s muscles as she yanks the tall warrior down to stare into her face. “You can ignore me if you want, but that is my enemy out there. I’ve fought her and the chaos elves before and will probably face them many times after today. So be thankful I’m even letting you participate. I could just as easily put up a barrier and make all of you watch me have all the fun. Now is the Snow Tiger Tribe with me or do I have to treat you like insolent children?”

“Yes, ma’am!” shouts the barbarians, making the channeler blush.

“It appears you’re our War Chieftain for now,” Cyrus whispers to the young woman.

“I like the sound of that.”

Instead of leaping off the wall like her mind is screaming for her to do, Nyx takes the stairs and focuses on keeping her temper in check. Stepping through Stonehelm’s entrance, she slams the gate closed with powerful wind spells. The half-elf marches toward her rival, who is already standing halfway between Stonehelm and the chaos elf army. Not a single sound can be heard as the channelers approach each other, the wilderness seeming to hold its breath. The thorny shrubs and squat trees that dot the valley remain still, the summer breeze no longer passing through the valley. Movement to her left causes Nyx to risk a glance and she sees the snow tiger cubs spying on the battle from a high cliff. They disappear into the cave where their mother waits to attack anyone who dares to intrude. With a slow exhale, the half-elf walks faster to close the gap between her and Trinity.

“You’re not pregnant,” Nyx says when they get within a few steps of each other. The hope that her rival is too far along to fight is quickly dashed by the chaos elf’s slender figure, which the champion guesses is not an illusion. “I couldn’t say anything when I felt it because Stephen damaged my throat, but I sensed the baby when I freed you from him. Did something happen? I thought it was strange for you to be marching on Stonehelm given your condition. Did I cost you the baby when I broke your tether?”

“Shut up, champion,” Trinity snaps while adjusting her leather top. The fabric releases a shimmer that travels along her exposed belly and arms, revealing its magical protection. “I didn’t come here to talk. My orders are to kill you and, if possible, destroy Stonehelm. There won’t be any kindness between us this time. I’m done playing with you, hero. One of us has to die today and I swear I’ll crush your skull under my boot.”

“After everything we’ve been through, you still hate me?” the half-elf asks as a fireball appears in her hand. A blast of ice hits her spell, which explodes in her palm and peppers her forearm with freezing shards. “I was really hoping that we could talk, but you seem determined to see this battle through to the end. Guess we’re back to how we were when we first met in Rodillen.”

“Actually, I watched you fight in Gaia prior to our meeting, but such memories aren’t important,” the chaos elf claims with a shrug. She takes a step toward Stonehelm and is shoved back by a force spell that shatters her shirt’s defensive enchantment. “I didn’t put much work into this armor anyway. Not my style since it makes me feel restrained. Know that my army will charge as soon as we start fighting, so I hope your friends are ready.”

“Do you think your people can beat a barbarian tribe?”

“Yes because they’re fighting for everything they hold dear.”

“And the Snow Tiger Tribe isn’t?”

“Not like we are.”

Turning toward Stonehelm, Nyx wonders if Cyrus and the others are ready for the battle to begin. She is about to face Trinity again when a bolt of lightning strikes her in the side and she barely erects a barrier to avoid getting severely hurt. The impact is still enough to knock the half-elf across the valley, a thorny bush stopping her from hitting a boulder. She rolls away from Trinity, letting the chaos elf’s acid-dripping knife sink into the ground. With the barbed plant still on her, Nyx transforms it into an armor sleeve and fires all of the thorns at her rival. A barrier of fire erupts between them and incinerates the tiny projectiles, the wall sending pulses of heat through the valley. Before Trinity can decide on another spell, the champion grabs the flames and tears them out of the earth. Combining them with the wooden sleeve, they become a giant, rippling fan that unleashes an inferno with a single wave. Protected by a heat resistant shield, the chaos elf is sent flying and a trail of ashes follows her as she lands in the middle of the valley. Steam wafting off her clothes and hair, Trinity douses the flames on her body with a driving rain that creates a circle of mud. Singed by the attack, the determined woman steps out of the muck and waits for her rival to get closer.

“We’re really going to do this?” Nyx asks as she approaches. Not wanting to be caught by surprise, the half-elf summons a pair of fireballs that she holds at her sides. “Only one of us is walking away today, Trinity. Do you really want to fight me to the death?”

“It was always going to end this way!” the chaos elf declares while growing acidic blades from her palms. “The two of us being friendly and gaining respect for each other never really mattered. This fight was inevitable.”

“Seems so.”

“Good-bye, Nyx.”

“See you in the afterlife, Trinity.”

*****

“I have come to a decision!” King Edric announces as he steps out from behind the courtroom curtain. The exhausted ruler takes his seat and nods for Udelia to pull the shackled prisoners to their feet. “There is no evidence that I stole the crown of King Melich. Only that my crown is a simple, unadorned circlet like his. There are only so many designs that can be done, so repetition was bound to happen at some point in our history. It just so happens that I am the first and I can assure you that I will not be the last. All requests to defile his grave with an unnecessary search have been and will always be denied. The court and council find it insulting that such an act has even been suggested. I am sure Kerr would rain his fury upon us for desecrating the resting place of our ancestors. One hopes he is not already angry at our consideration of the idea. With the goal of appeasing our god and cleansing our city, the foreigner named Dariana will be exiled from Stonehelm tomorrow morning. She will never be allowed to step foot within our territory again under penalty of death.”