Lusam: The Dragon Mage Wars Book Three (58 page)

A few moments later, the first magical-missile struck the city’s shield.

“Morgan, you’re with me,” Renn said as he passed by one of the paladins.

“Yes, sir,” Morgan replied, looking genuinely pleased that he’d been chosen.

“You too, Neala.”

“What’s going on?” Neala asked, as she watched all the others begin to file out of the gate.

“We have different orders from the others. We’re to keep the gate area clear of undead, so the injured men can be brought back for treatment easier,” Renn replied.

“Oh, I see, and who’s idea was that, I wonder?” Neala said sarcastically, as she watched Alexia vanish through the gate with the others. Renn chuckled to himself when he saw the acid look she gave Alexia, and didn’t envy her one bit the next time they met up. He knew Alexia’s intentions were good, and decided to try and cover for her a little.

“Actually, it was my idea,” Renn said, trying to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, sure it was,” Neala said, obviously not believing a word of it.

Renn ignored the comment and introduced her to Morgan instead. Morgan was an affable man in his early thirties, with dark hair and a pale complexion. Most of the men affectionately referred to him as ‘
Beany
,’ due to him being so tall and thin like one of the locally grown bean plants. Renn had first met him more than ten years earlier, during his training at The Sanctum of Light. Morgan had arrived there as a fresh recruit only one year before Renn had completed his own training there, and Renn had been assigned as his group commander for that first year. He had proven to be a very capable soldier, apart for the numerous times he had ended up in front of a commanding officer for his various pranks: everything from placing foul smelling crystals inside the officers candles, to coating the outhouse seat with tree resin. The latter, Hershel was still making him pay for to that day, having left almost every hair he had stuck to the outhouse seat when he peeled himself free of it. Renn swore he could still hear Hershel’s screams of pain when he closed his eyes and thought about it sometimes.

“So, shall we go?” Neala asked impatiently, as the last of the paladins left the small stone courtyard.

“Actually, I think we should wait here for a while, lass. It will take time for each group to fight their way further into the valley. They’ll need to be well spread out from each other, so the Empire can’t target any one large group of fighters. If we give them a few more minutes before we leave, the gate area should be pretty clear for us. It should be a lot easier keeping it clear, if we don’t have to fight with our backs against the wall,” Renn replied, as he watched the city’s shield take another hammering from all the magical-missiles.

“How long do you think the city’s shield will last?” Neala asked, noticing the worried look on Renn’s face.

“Not long, I would imagine. Especially if they keep hitting it with that intensity. I suppose it all depends on how much power Lusam was able to put into it earlier, but I doubt even that will keep it up for too much longer. We better just hope the others manage to draw the Empire’s fire-power away from it, or it will never last until Lusam has finished reading that book,” Renn replied.

***

Alexia had requested to join Hershel’s group of men before leaving the small stone courtyard, and was now helping defend the shield bearers alongside the other paladins. She had soon found that her bow was of little use against the undead at such close quarters, so she had switched to using her blessed daggers instead. They had slowly fought their way to the centre of the valley over the first few hours, leaving a wide trail of destroyed undead in their wake, but Alexia was now beginning to wonder if she had made a mistake bringing all the blessed arrows with her, as all they were doing was weighing her down.

They were still within sight of several other groups of paladins, each group laying waste to large numbers of undead as they spread out across the valley floor. So far they had not succeeded in drawing much fire—if any—away from the city’s shield, and Hershel was beginning to wonder if his plan would work at all. The Empire magi obviously didn’t consider the paladins a threat down in the valley bottom, and continued their assault on the city’s shield unabated.

Fortunately, not all the Empire magi were attacking the city’s shield. For some reason, most of the Empire magi were content to simply watch and wait, as if expecting some kind of large scale retaliation from Lamuria. Hershel knew that their tactics only made sense if they believed that Lamuria still had a hidden magi attack force of its own, which of course, it didn’t. He also knew that once they realised that, they would immediately order a full scale attack on the city, which would collapse the shield in a matter of minutes.

Far too many of the paladins on the battlefield had not yet completed their full training for Hershel’s liking, and it was now starting to show in the number who were beginning to lose their lives. It wasn’t through their lack of fighting ability, as the paladin’s of Aysha only ever accepted the very best men from the regular King’s guard. It was through their lack of spiritual training, which often took years before they were able to successfully wield a blessed weapon in the heat of combat. He had protested loudly when the High Temple had ordered him to send every available man to help defend Lamuria, but his objections had gone mostly unheeded.

The power of a blessed weapon had to be channelled from Aysha herself, which required the paladin to open themselves up to her fully, both in body and mind, and at all times. Most recruits expected this to be easy, especially the ones who came from a religious background, but Hershel knew better. Of course, it was easy enough to hold one’s faith whilst things were going well, but the moment it looked like you might be losing a fight, that was when your faith was tested most. It was one of the hardest things to do: to keep your faith when you think your next breath might be your last. The thing was, if you didn’t, and your weapon failed to channel Aysha’s power, it probably
would
be your last breath—especially against the undead or a Netherworld creature.

Shortly after leaving the city gate, Hershel had watched helplessly as one of his own group had been torn apart by the undead. A momentary lapse in his faith had transformed his blessed weapon back into a regular sword, making it useless against the attacking undead. That one moment of doubt had cost him his life, as an undead creature pulled him out of Hershel’s tight group and into the waiting mass of undead. There had been nothing Hershel could do about it, as it was all over far too quickly for the poor man. Fortunately, Hershel had noticed another of his men’s momentary lapse in faith, just in time to save him from a similar fate. He couldn’t blame him for it, as Hershel knew he had been friends with the dead man, and witnessing something like that happen would shake the faith of most men, no matter how religious they were. But
that
was the difference between a man, and a true paladin of Aysha.

The ground vibrated underfoot with every impact on the city’s shield. The Empire magi had gradually ramped up their attack over the last half hour, and were now also attacking the paladins closest to them. Hershel’s plan of five shield bearers in each group of ten paladins seemed to be working well for the time being. As the magical-missiles rained down on the forward groups of paladins, they simply raised their shield to intercept them, whilst continuing to attack the undead in front with their blessed swords, and the others defended their flanks. It was slow going, and Hershel guessed that at least four hours had passed since the battle had begun. He had no way of knowing the exact number of casualties his men had suffered, but he could estimate that they had dispatched around a quarter of the undead already—something the Empire magi had also noticed, judging by the ever increasing amount of magical-missiles heading their way.

Hershel’s group of paladins were one of the most forward groups on the battlefield, and they were now close enough for the Empire magi to start hitting them with far more accuracy. It didn’t take the Empire magi much time to realise the same thing, and soon the number of magical-missiles increased again. Hershel watched as dozens of magical-missiles headed towards them and the other groups of paladins on the front lines, more than half now finding their targets. One of the missiles however, landed just in front of the group of paladins closest to their left, hitting a large group of undead instead. The undead were blown apart by the impact, sending them flying through the air in all directions. One of the undead was propelled through the air, landing directly in the midst of the paladins. Hershel watched helplessly as the undead creature grabbed two of the men’s ankles and shattered them with its immense strength. The forward facing shield bearers seemed unaware of what was unfolding directly behind them, as they continued to stab past their shields at the advancing undead. One of the men tried to come to the aid of his fellow paladins, stabbing the undead creature with his glowing sword, but a heartbeat later, he was dragged screaming from the group by several undead who had managed to slip past their weakened defences. Hershel watched in dismay as two of the remaining paladin’s blessed weapons winked out, as their faith momentarily faltered. It was more than enough time for the undead to end their lives, along with one of the injured men on the floor.

Hershel had decided to distribute the blessed shields to the more seasoned men, and men he believed would more likely hold their nerve during the battle—a decision he was thankful for, as he watched the five shield bearers reform into a tight protective circle around the injured man on the floor. Shields held high to protect against the incoming magical-missiles, they stabbed furiously at the advancing undead, but were unable to assist their fallen comrade without exposing themselves to the undead.

“Hershel—” Alexia began to say, whilst taking down another two undead.

“Yes, I see them,” Hershel replied, trying to keep an eye on them and maintain his defensive position at the same time.

“We have to go help them, they can’t move with that injured man on the floor like that. If those Empire magi notice them, they’ll become sitting targets,” Alexia said.

“I agree, so we better start making our way over there, before those Empire magi
do
notice them,” Hershel said loud enough for everyone to hear. They all changed direction, and began to fight their way towards the stranded paladins. The two groups had almost merged, when it finally happened: the city’s shield failed.

“Oh, Gods no!” Alexia swore, as the first explosion erupted from within Lamuria. The cheer from the cliff-tops was audible from where they were, as thousands of Empire magi roared at their success. The Empire magi immediately ceased their attacks on the paladins, and concentrated all their fire on Lamuria. Alexia watched stunned as thousands of missiles arced through the air on their way to devastate Lamuria. Several hundred hit the High Temple itself, winking out of existence as soon as they touched its blessed walls.

“May Aysha have mercy on their souls,” Hershel whispered, as dozens of buildings exploded within the walls of Lamuria, sending debris high into the air. Plumes of thick black smoke rose from within the city’s walls, darkening the afternoon sky above them. Huge chunks of masonry rained down within the city, blasted away from every building within range of the Empire magi. Thousands upon thousands of missiles fell on the unprotected city, turning it into a giant inferno.

The undead now all but ignored the paladins, and as one, headed towards the city gates. Alexia watched as every group of paladins tried to retreat and defend the gates from the undead. If they broke through the gates, the entire city would be lost and everyone in it. She knew it was the paladins standing orders, if the city’s shield failed, regroup and defend the gates at all costs.

It took the Empire magi only a matter of minutes to completely destroy the parts of Lamuria within their range. Then they did something no one expected. They attacked the outer wall of the city.

“Seven Gods!” Hershel swore, watching as huge chunks of stone were blown away from the city’s wall. The wall was huge by any comparisons, standing as high as thirty men, and fifty paces wide at its base, but it wouldn’t survive long against the onslaught now being rained down upon it. Alexia knew it was too soon for Lusam to have finished reading the Guardian book yet.

He needed more time.

They needed to somehow regain the attention of the Empire magi, but now that the city’s shield was down, she knew that no matter how many undead they killed, they still wouldn’t divert their attention away from the city wall. Then she had an idea.

“Hershel, get me closer to those Empire magi, then maybe I can gain their attention for a while,” Alexia said, removing her bow. Hershel knew she intended to to try and shoot them with her bow, but the cliff was far too high for them to be in range of her bow shot.

“They will be well outside your range, Alexia,” Hershel replied, looking up at the cliff-tops high above.