Fate Rides Wicked: Volume I of the Lerilon Trilogy (17 page)

The captain only responded with a nod and swung at his
next opponent. He did work his way towards a messenger
who began the process of sending the message to the wall.
His life ended in the next moment, however, as a forangen
drove a blade through his back helping another one get him
from the other side.

Nobody noticed the single great eagle circling above.
He watched from a thousand feet in the air. From here he
could see the maze of tents and debris that spread across
the field. He also watched the forangen trying to group for
a more organized reaction to the retreat of Tych’s army.
The withdrawal made him wonder what weird wisdom
worked with warped strategies like that one. He failed to
see the goal of it though he could see the two forces
separating and becoming more distinct. Then the neftir
began to form a wall and the eagle knew. Like a pig
digging for truffles, Tych’s army planned to push the
forangen towards the city, though he still could not fathom
the purpose.

As soon as the neftiran wall began to advance, the
surviving pemilons positioned themselves like banks of a
river and held the forangen in front of the approaching
forces. After the neftir came the humans, thrandrils and
mendar. The two armies met and Tych’s just kept
marching without letting the forangen enter beyond the first
row of their groupings. Some tried to use the tents to leap
deeper into the forces but the riders picked them off with
arrows or bolts.

The forangen began to back up and some tried to flee.
Many neftir suffered injuries only to be replaced by the
soldier behind him or her. Within a few minutes after
reengaging the enemy, Tych’s army had them backed up
against the city wall. The archers fell into place as if they
belonged there and Lendril called the retreat.

The scene that unfolded as they pulled back behind the
archers startled them. Only Tych remained inside the half
circle of bows and crossbows, facing the forangen. A few
of the creatures tried to flee, only to be caught by an arrow
or two. Eerie silence filled the field and the smell of rotting
flesh, dirty bodies and a thousand sweaty armpits filled the
air.

Suddenly, the air around them seemed to explode with
light, and all behind Tych had to cover their eyes. The
forangen in front of him squealed, shouted and died. When
their eyes could focus again, Tych’s soldiers saw nothing
except the shadows of three hundred forangen on the black
wall.

The silence that followed could only be described as
more-than-eerie. It held seven hundred “Oohs” and “Aahs”
never voiced because nobody could find them. For a
moment Tych wavered there as Lendril ran up next to him.
Several minutes passed, Tych now standing only with
Lendril’s assistance.

Realization crept into their minds that the battle had
ended and the soldiers cheered mightily. After about a
minute of shouting “Victory, victory,” over and over again,
the men began the task of helping the wounded and
cleaning up. The front gate no longer bore Tych’s magic
and help for the injured came out in the form of wagons,
priests and nurses. One of the cots passed by Lendril and
she stopped it, laying Tych down on it before he collapsed.
She kissed his blackened lips and a glow momentarily
shone from his body and his muscles relaxed, allowing him
to fall asleep. Leaving him to the attention of a woman
from the city, Lendril went off to help with the wounded.

At the head of the table sat Tych and Lendril, while the
commanders of each army sat around it. To Tych’s left sat
Tendelbro, in charge of the neftir that came from the Efre
mountain range and on Lendril’s right presided Andri, the
leader of the Andarin neftir. Then came the daril general,
Findra, chosen for this position by the mendar and
thrandrils while waiting for Tych before the siege of
Crentin. Both Andri and Findra were female, and they felt
it appropriate that Lendril shared this side of the table. On
the other side, next to Tendelbro, Loktaro, commander of
the city garrison, and Flandroke waited for the meeting to
begin.

Tych took one last, long look at the commanders and
began. “This will be our command group, with no
additions except for the hiftnuvin commander when he gets
here.”

Loktaro laughed in surprise. “The hiftnuvin can’t
withstand a punch in the face. What will they do here?”

“They, as a race of Li, are entitled to be part of the
decisions made here in Crentin since they also will be
effected. They are also not as weak as you may think, but
you will learn that when they get here. Commander
Loktaro, since you show such a desire to speak, why not
present your casualty report first.” Tych knew that he had
begun poorly with the commander, but mistrust had been
the way for so long between humans and endarils that
neither could really help it.

“All human casualties totaled three hundred dead,
another five hundred at least slightly injured. I expect the
dead to increase as some of the injured die. Now that the
free army has joined us, that leaves us with four hundred
soldiers healthy and ready to do battle. In another week we
estimate another two hundred will have healed and the
support we requested at the beginning of the siege will
bring that number to close to two thousand.” Loktaro
leaned back and waited for the next leader to speak.

Tendelbro spoke up. “I came with one hundred neftir.
Seventy-five are still alive though half have at least minor
injuries. The rest are dead. Another two hundred from the
Efres are on their way, but the bulk of our army won’t get
here until next spring, as arranged with your grandfather.”

At this Tych frowned. “What arrangements did my
grandfather make?” Before Tendelbro could respond, he
added, “And each of you should include it in your report.”

Tendelbro took a deep breath. “The xadineft would
wipe us out if we pulled our soldiers and warriors down
from the mountains. Corl assured us that by next spring, all
but a few of the green-apes will have fled.”

Tych rarely showed anger, but Lendril could feel it
radiating from him as he turned to listen to Andri. “The
neftir from the Andarins also sent one hundred. The rest of
the forces will arrive at the staging point next spring a few
days after it is established. Corl said we should also hold
our forces until the xadineft left.”

The prince looked at one neftir and then the other.
“What is the total size of both your armies put together?”

Andri glanced over at Tendelbro for confirmation as
she said, “Over five thousand, not including those here.
Eighty of my warriors still live, though that should drop to
about seventy in the next few days.”

Tendelbro took over. “I’d say closer to five and a half
thousand, when all is said and done. Corl, however, said
they should be held back.”

Tych looked sharply at Findra and merely said,
“Proceed.”

She returned his gaze equally and said, “Between the
thrandrils and mendar, which represent the only daril races
here except for you two, we brought almost two hundred
soldiers. We have eighty wounded and sixty are expected
to live. Another fifty died in the battle. Both the mendar
and the thrandrils have committed nothing and been told
nothing. You...”

Tych cut her off. “I know the protocol. I must
personally request command by appearing before the
leaders of your people. How many will I get if I ask?”

“Less than three thousand, but the archers will be
indispensable.”

Tych turned to the pemilon. “Flandroke, I know only
five of your twenty soldiers survived, and I offer my
condolences on your loss. Your people may withdraw if
they wish.”

“We cannot make camp here. When it comes time to
go to the great battle, we will be there.”

Loktaro, who had been sitting with a bored look on his
face, sat up and looked at Tych. “Everybody’s talking like
there’s a war about to start.”

Lendril smiled. “Tych wants to march on Rangdor as
soon as possible, but it seems Corl has seen to making that
difficult to say the least. The armies must be prepared.”

Tych growled, the first sign of emotion any of them had
seen or heard. “And for that I shall have him answer.”

At this moment, the guard outside the tent stepped in
and said, “Announcing His Majesty, King Morg of the
Endarils, Her Majesty, Queen Greentree of the Endarils and
the wizard Corl, also of the endarils.”

Tych stood. “Send them in,” he ordered.

The guard left and in his place entered the three
endarils, all dressed in white. Findra stood and bowed
deeply. “Your Majesties, I am happy to see your glory still
shines.”

Morg touched her on the shoulder. “Sit and listen,
Findra. We are not here on official business.”

“But you are wearing the royal white.”

“Only to be more impressive,” responded Greentree,
dressed fully in her white armor with the endarilan symbol
on the front and on the cape around her neck. Both Morg
and Corl wore the white robes with the green, brown and
silver emblem on the front and jeweled belts around their
waists.

Lendril stood up next to Tych. “What brings all of you
here, to the tent of the exiled?”

Greentree began to walk to the other end of the table,
approaching the two warriors. “To return you to full status
as endarils and return you to the Hidden Kingdom.”

Corl and Tych said “No” at the same time. Greentree
stopped in her tracks and gave an evil look to both of them.
“What do you mean, ‘No’?”

Tych looked at Corl, got only a nod, and turned back to
his mother. “My tasks lie out here, Your Majesty. I will
return when they are finished.”

Greentree spun on her heels. She now stood less than
five feet from Lendril behind Andri’s chair. To Corl she
said, “You have something to do with this.”

“No, I do not. I believe Rangdor has shown him his
path already, has he not Tych?”

“Yes, and in many ways. Since we left the valley,
minion after minion has come after us. But I will not side
with you in this argument Corl, for you seem determined to
prevent me from destroying him.”

“No, Tych, I merely want to force you to take the time
to fully prepare yourself. You are not ready for such a
foe.”

“But we must destroy him now, while he is weak.”

“Even weak, he could swat you away with a swing of
his pinky, if he had one. Besides, you must recruit the help
of the humans, and that will require time to do.”

Greentree had made her way to a place between the two
endarils at the head of the table. “Do you really want this?”

“I have seen to what lengths Rangdor will go to defeat
us and destroy me. I, however, still plan on marching
before the month is out.”

Corl grimaced. “There is no wisdom in that. Do not be
so vain. Over the next few days many soldiers, warriors
and magicians will arrive here, and they will need time to
train as one with the forces you already command. Be
patient so that you may be sure of your own strength.”

“It is not a question of vanity. I can feel the power
coursing through me, and with my new magical skills, I can
crush anybody. Rangdor will grow stronger if I do not act
now.”

“You may believe as you wish, but I fear you shall fail.
You may attempt whatever you feel is possible, since you
are your own boss but know the price of failure. This
discussion is over. Your mother and father wish to see you
again.”

Corl stepped out and Morg and Greentree hugged both
endarils and kissed them. “Your royal armor is in your
tent,” said Morg, normally silent. “Listen to your
grandfather, Tych, he is wise.”

“Do not worry, father, I will not fail.” They hugged
one more time.

As they left the tent, Greentree paused and turned to
Tych. “If you do not need Cort, we would like to take him
back.”

“Actually, I would like you to release him from his oath
so that he may help us here. He is much older than us and
would be very helpful.” Greentree nodded solemnly and
left.

Loktaro had begun laughing again. Lendril frowned
and gave him a quizzical look. “Why do you laugh, my
human friend?”

“He can’t be that much older. He appears to be the
same age. What is he, forty, fifty?”

Tych smiled, again showing rare emotion. “No, he is
over three hundred years old. I am half that and Lendril is
five years younger than I. We live a long time.”

Loktaro began to laugh again then saw that nobody else
had more than a smile and seemed to believe him.
Tendelbro leaned over and said, “I am older than Tych by
about fifty years but will live another three hundred if the
forangen don’t get me.”

Now the human had lost even his smile. Andri said, “I
am one hundred eighty and I hope to be alive three hundred
years from now also.”

Loktaro thought he understood a little bit now. “This is
some kind of joke, right?”

Findra smiled and then laughed heartily. “I am older
than Cort, though as a mendar my life is one quarter over.
Yes, we of the enchanted races live for over a millennium.
Some endarils, Tych’s race, live for two thousand years.”

“I am but thirty, and if I see sixty I will be lucky. How
old is your grandfather?”

“He is over 750 years old. We speak the truth. It is
why we have become so skilled at what we do.”

Loktaro twisted in his chair to look at Flandroke. The
pemilon had not said a word the entire time, but now he
spoke. “We live no more than fifty years. We are a brand
new race.”

“Ah, is that it.”

“A big part of it,” said Lendril. “The endarils have
been on this planet for more than one hundred thousand
years. It is also that we sprang from forces that had the
effect of giving us long life. You will learn more as we
come to associate more with humans.”