Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign (Worlds of the Crystal Moon, Book 1) (113 page)

The lieutenant sheathed his sword and handed his torch to one of the sergeants. “How many?”

“All of them!” Dreston snapped. “I want them opened and their wicks set. We’ll burn the bastards out.”

The lieutenant hesitated. “All of them? There are over 80. The cavern will become toxic. The men won’t be able to breathe.”

Dreston looked over the ledge. “When the barrels hit the bottom, our men will be clear of this pit. We can outrun the smoke to the surface. The serpents will be left with no choice, but to come to us.”

The lieutenant turned and looked at his sergeant. He nodded, “Make it happen. Spread word to prepare to run.” The sergeant smiled and did as instructed.

With barrels in position, three men were assigned to each to ensure they were pushed into the pit. Once again, Dreston moved to the edge and held his torch over the side. Something moved toward the ledge, trying to escape the light. “Lieutenant, they’re beneath us. They’re under our damn feet. It’s an ambush. We’re right where they want us.”

Dreston signaled to light the wicks. As the torches were lowered, he took hold of the lieutenant’s hand and leaned over the ledge. His eyes widened as hundreds of holes covered the surface of the wall below, and twice as many eyes were beginning to climb toward them.

Dreston shouted, “Get those damn barrels over the edge! Prepare for battle, and retreat to the surface!”

As the legion leader finished his orders, the first of the giant snakes crested the ledge and used its powerful body in a whip-like fashion, knocking three of Dreston’s men into the darkness. Their hopeless cries echoed throughout the cavern as they disappeared.

As the barrels were pushed over, some of them splashed onto the serpents’ coils and the liquid burst into flames. The heat against their skin sent the snakes into a frenzy that worked against both Dreston’s men and the serpents. As they thrashed wildly about, they knocked members of each army off the ledge.

Dreston pulled his sword from the eye of his first kill, then turned to look for another as two fangs bit down on his lower body from behind. Agony filled his eyes as the serpent snatched him up and slung him from side to side. The legion leader’s leg gave under the pressure and shredded at the hip as if it was an overcooked piece of chicken being picked apart. The serpent swallowed the appendage and then turned to find the rest of his delicacy.

Dreston’s fall knocked two more of his men from the ledge as he landed in an awkward position, his left arm breaking beneath the weight of his body. The coils of the giant snake scooped him up as the snake’s head lifted to a position above him.

The legion’s leader maintained his wit and with his last ounce of heart, he thrust his blade into the upper palate of the serpent’s mouth as it struck. The creature cried out in a bloodcurdling, hissing scream and then twisted into a tight ball of death as the smoke from the exploding barrels billowed over the top of the ledge.

The serpents disappeared as the toxic fumes turned into a black fog, and the men who could run retreated.

Back on the Surface

“Sire!” a scout shouted as he stopped in front of Sam. “The barbarians have allied with the giant cats of the north, and that isn’t the worst of it. I saw unicorns hidden among their numbers. Their magic is enough to destroy all of us!”

“How many, damn it?” Sam snapped.

“Hundreds of cats and at least 40, maybe 50 unicorns,” the man answered. “We can’t fight this kind of force. Our men will perish. Sire, we need to retreat and establish a new battle plan.”

“Hold your tongue!” Sam ordered. “Who are you to tell me what we need to do?” Sam thought for a moment, and then he turned to Michael. “General, let’s get out of here.”

Michael had not given the order before a second scout rushed up from behind, screaming and nearly out of breath. “Sire!” the scout blurted as he bent over to capture the air he needed to continue speaking. “The Minotaur approach from the northeast. They travel with the skeletons and the cats of the plains. Their numbers are impossible to determine. The skeletons can’t be destroyed. The cats ended four of us as we retreated, but I was able to break away and remain unseen.”

“More cats? How many?” Sam questioned. “Speak man!”

“Perhaps 300, My King. I cannot be sure.”

Sam shook his head and turned his mount toward Michael. “The Minotaur? I know they’re angry, but still. They’re supposed to be our allies!”

Michael shook his head. “This doesn’t make sense. Perhaps their king has decided that vengeance is preferable over peace.”

“Bah! I beat his champion fair and square. Retreat to the southern shore. We’ll work our way home from there. Sound the horn.”

Michael had no sooner raised the horn to his mouth when another voice called out. “My King, the bears are coming!” The third scout announced from horseback.

“What the hell is going on here?” Sam snapped. “Are they angry as well?”

Michael steadied his mount. “No, Sire. There was no dispute over your victory. They’re allies. This is a blessing. We can use this to our advantage. We can ask for their assistance.”

“No, My King,” the scout cut in. “The bears have killed two of us already. They approach as enemies. They’re thousands strong, and they’re angry.”

Sam looked at Michael. “We’re surrounded. Any bright ideas?”

“The majority of our army is too far north to be of any help.” Michael lowered his head. After a brief series of moments, he lifted it. A fire burned in his eyes as a smile spread across his face. “This Peak appears to be a good Peak to perish, Sire.” The general ripped his sword from its sheath. “It has been a pleasure to know you, My King. But the moments for plans have passed. I say we fight to honor Lord Mosley and give Hosseff many souls to reap.”

The king ripped Kael from his sheath and lifted the blade high above his head. He commanded the sword of the gods to bring forth its fire. The blade screamed with joy at the thought of the pain they were about to inflict. “You’re right, Michael! It is a good Peak to perish!”

As Sam faced his horse in the direction of the Minotaur King, he thought of Shalee and his unborn baby. He knew there would be many wonderful joys that he would miss—his child’s first step, first smile, first word, and the happiness they would bring to Shalee’s face. He could only hope his queen would be strong enough to raise their baby on her own. He looked to the sky and was about to proclaim his love for Shalee, but he noticed a dark, fluttering cloud. He dropped Kael to his side. “General, look!”

“My Lord, it is the griffins and the hippogriffs. It looks as if every creature on Grayham is coming for us.”

“Don’t be so quick to judge!” Sam barked. The king lifted Kael into the air and commanded the blade to burn bright. “Soresym!” he screamed.

From high above, Soresym’s eagle eyes spotted the King of Brandor’s signal. Before altering his course, he ordered his family of more than 250 griffins and 600 hippogriffs into battle.

Meanwhile, to the north, the dark-gray steeds, with pure white horns, had been ordered to act as the first wave of Senchae’s attack. The unicorns had moved ahead of Kepler’s giant cats and the Barbarian King’s army. Numbering 50 strong, the magical steeds galloped into battle as lightning erupted from their horns. The magic arced between Brandor’s men. The joints of their plate and links of their chain armor were welded solid as they fell to the ground, charred and lifeless.

The magic was overwhelming, and Brandor’s men were forced to retreat, dodging from side-to-side to avoid an electrical death. But on this Peak, at this very spot, Nathan, a sergeant, and four of his men would hold their ground. They would not run. They had found an alcove within the lava rock to hide, and they were waiting for the unicorns to pass.

Nathan’s father, Fordamus, had been a tactician of war for most of his life, and he had advised the late King of Brandor, Keldwin, for many seasons. Fordamus was essential when it came to planning battle strategies to protect the kingdom. These strategies had also been embedded into Nathan as a child and allowed him to recognize a helpless situation when he saw one. He knew their current location was without an exit strategy, but he would not go down without a fight. The sergeant and his men would attempt to narrow the odds before they perished.

The five men removed their armor and crept up behind the magical steeds after they passed. Their approach was fast and silent. From a stealth-run, the men plunged their blades deep into the necks of an equal number of unsuspecting unicorns. As the steeds fell, the men quickly chopped off their horns and clenched them in their hands.

Realizing what had happened, the rest of the herd stopped.

Nathan shouted, “Hold the horns tightly! They’ll protect us from their magic! Ready your blades and fight together! No matter what ... no surrender!”

“NO SURRENDER!” the men shouted in the direction of the unicorns.

The steeds encircled the small group. Lightning, fireballs, and storms of ice were used against them, but the horns’ magical resistances kept them safe. The eyes of the unicorns were filled with rage, knowing their magic was useless against their own power. They scuffed their hooves across the lava stone and tightened the circle.

Nathan shouted, “Pass with honor! No surrender!”

“NO SURRENDER!”

Suddenly, from above, Soresym’s mighty family plowed into the unicorns. One after another, like meteors, the griffins dove with their wings tucked tight to their bodies. Just before impact, they spread their razor-sharp talons on their front legs and claws on their back paws and drove the unicorns into the ground.

Blood sprayed in all directions as if bombs of red liquid had been dropped from a tremendous height. The force of the spray stung the faces of Nathan’s men.

The screams of the unicorns filled the air, matched only by the shrieking battle cries of the griffins. The smallest of the winged attackers—weighing more than 4,900 pounds—buried its talons deep into the flesh of one of its enemies and severed the unicorn’s spine.

Thirty unicorns perished with no chance of defending themselves. The others, though injured, responded by using their magic to teleport home to the Dark Forest. The strongest threat to Brandor’s army had been disbanded in a matter of a few short moments.

Nathan’s men lifted their swords and cheered for their winged allies. The moment had arrived to turn their attention to the next big threat. Kepler’s feline subjects, which included the support of the barbarian archers, were the next wave they would face.

The rest of Brandor’s army stopped their retreat to rejoin the battle while Nathan and his men climbed back into their alcove of stone to retrieve their armor.

Once again, the mighty griffins and their family of hippogriffs dropped from the sky. Forty of the giant cats perished—another 52 lay injured and unable to fight. However, the winged army was not without casualties. Many of the giant cats were ready to pounce, their quick reflexes allowed them to avoid being crushed. They leapt onto their assailants’ backs and tore into the feathers covering the back of their necks.

The arrows of the Barbarian archers darkened the sky, causing little damage to the griffins whose thick hides protected them as they descended for another attack. The hippogriffs were not so fortunate. Their hides were not as resistant to the projectiles. Forty-seven hippogriffs fell in an uncontrolled spiral, their blood staining the ground as they splattered.

The largest of the griffins snatched the cats up with their talons. They carried them high into the air and used the felines’ bodies as projectiles against the barbarian archers. The men of the north were in tight formation and could not avoid being crushed beneath the weight of the giant cats as they rained from the sky.

Soresym shrieked as he landed in front of Sam. “It appears I’ve come at a moment of need, King of Brandor.”

Sam let out a sigh of relief. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re here. We’re outnumbered and surrounded. I could use your help.”

Soresym shrieked again. “The unicorns are no longer a concern for your army, but I fear the hippogriffs will be no match for the barbarians’ arrows.”