The Shadows of Grace (40 page)

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Hayden said as he approached, bowing low. “Not during such troubled times.”

“It was by my order,” Queen Annabelle said.

“And I hope you pardon me for ignoring it,” Hayden said. He smiled at her, but she refused to smile back.

“I know it looks hopeless,” he continued, not at all bothered. “But our walls are strong, and we have withstood wars before. But this war, well, this could be the one to end all wars.”

“We will win,” the queen said. “Our city has never fallen, and will not fall now.”

“You should worry about the survival of your people,” Hayden said, his voice losing a bit of its kind tone. “Not a stack of stone and mortar.”

“What are you saying?” Annabelle asked, her hands ceasing their trembling.

“Have you seen the army that approaches?” Hayden asked. “They are not soldiers, they are servants of a god!”

He slipped closer, and his words grew quieter, eager, and certain.

“Karak has told me in his prayers,” he said. “They are here to establish a perfect order. Your right as Queen will not be challenged. They are here to exterminate the refuse of Neldar and the fools that still worship Ashhur. Think of your people, my Queen. Is this a war they should be fighting?”

Queen Annabelle stood, her hand slipping into a hidden pocket of her dress.

“I should look upon this army,” she said. Hayden smiled.

“Of course.”

Side by side they walked down the carpeted hallway to the closed doors of the castle. Hayden knocked twice, and the guards on the other side yanked them open. The castle had been built on a tall hill, and atop the raised steps they could see over the walls.

“Do you see?” Hayden asked as he stepped forward and gestured to the horizon.

“Yes,” the queen said, pulling a dagger out from her pocket. “I see.”

She stabbed him in the back. She let go, leaving the dagger in him. The priest staggered about, his eyes wide and his mouth locked open in shock. At last he fell. The two guards at the doors turned and looked at their queen, who glared at them.

“All priests of Karak are to be executed on sight,” she told them. “Spread word throughout the city. There is to be no mercy, not for them.”

“Yes, your highness,” the guards said in unison. They left to follower their orders. Alone, the queen stood at the top of the steps, watching Hayden’s blood flow down them, all the while desperately hoping that she had done what was best for her people.

H
arruq had never prayed before, at least, not for a lengthy period of time. As he knelt there, certain his death was imminent, he felt the old wounds of his past reopen with painful strength. He remembered the many children he had slain for his brother at Woodhaven, all so Qurrah could take their organs, mutilate their bodies, and practice his spells. He remembered many of their faces, frightened and helpless. His heart ached in constant pain. He remembered the fights with his brother, and the time he had attacked Aurelia, nearly killing her with a vicious stab through her stomach. His anger, how much of a slave was he to his anger? More wounds, more pains, flashed through him. The village of Cornrows, their children and their elderly. He had butchered them all.

He clutched his swords as he knelt, feeling the heat of the sun on his skin. He remembered Jerico’s question, and suddenly it didn’t seem so trivial, so pointless. What did he expect when he died? He expected what he deserved, and what he deserved was punishment for the blood his swords had spilled. He did not deserve peace. He did not deserve happiness. Because of his own weakness, his brother marched with an army to slaughter thousands. If the priests were right, and the Abyss awaited him, then who was he to deny his place there?

It was then he heard a voice. A distant memory, perhaps, but it seemed so real. In his right ear he heard a simple call, one he’d heard countless times, never realizing its preciousness. He heard Aullienna calling.

Daddy!

His spirit broke. Perhaps he deserved the Abyss. He believed he did. But that was not where his daughter was, and he would give anything, anything, to see her again, to hold her in his arms and kiss her face.

“Take me,” he prayed in between sobs, and this time he knew it true. He did not feel embarrassment. He did not wait for reactions or listen for a divine chorus. Broken and weary, he begged for release.

“Forgive me of it all. Please, just let me see her again.”

He knew he was just one soul, but it seemed the very heavens quaked at his prayer.

A
ntonil snapped his head back, just one of many as he heard the sound of thunder. All around him soldiers shouted and pointed. Above the castle, far to the west, a shimmer of gold shook the sky, as if a second sun were rising. Again thunder rumbled.

The king hurried up the stairs to the outer wall and looked upon the approaching army. He then saw Harruq kneeling alone, with several of his friends in rapid approach.

“This isn’t right,” he said, thinking of all the Eschaton had done for him. “It just isn’t right.”

He ran down the stairs and motioned over one of his soldiers.

“Grant me your horse,” he told him, and the soldier quickly obeyed. Antonil raised his sword and circled the area.

“To me, my soldiers!” he shouted. “Bring your horses to me!”

By the time they had gathered there were two hundred of them, crowding through the soldiers of Mordan that gathered.

“Open the gate!” the king shouted. “Let us pass!”

For the third time that morning the gate creaked open. As it opened they saw the army approaching, vastly outnumbering them. Antonil raised his sword even higher, and shouted loud as he could to drown out the fear that swarmed through them.

“We will ride,” he cried. “For Neldar, for our people, and for our beloved dead!”

His men, loyal to the end, raised high their weapons and cheered his name.

“For King Antonil!” they shouted.

“For Neldar!” Antonil shouted back.

The two hundred rode out of the castle, still cheering.

Q
urrah walked before the rows of the dead, Tessanna at his right. On his left, Velixar and Ulamn discussed strategy. When they saw Harruq in the distance, alone, they were baffled.

“What do we do with him?” Velixar asked Qurrah as they neared.

“Perhaps he wants to join us?” Tessanna offered.

Qurrah shook his head.

“No,” he said. “Time for that is long past. Perhaps he wants one last blaze of glory in battle before dying. Deny him even that. Ulamn, shower him with your spears.”

“Is he worth the effort?” Ulamn asked.

“He is,” Qurrah said.

Ulamn raised his fist and shouted orders. Above him winged demons heard and obeyed. They flew higher and higher, and as one they hurled their spears hundreds of yards through the air, which fell like a deadly rain upon the kneeling halforc.

“
H
arruq!” Aurelia shouted as she ended her spell. Her knees slid on the grass beside him as she grabbed his shoulders and pulled him up to face her. He was still sobbing, but somehow he smiled, even as tears ran down from eyes that shimmered gold.

“Aurry,” he said before letting go of his swords and wrapping her in his arms. “I love you,” he said as he clung to her with desperate strength.

“I love you, too,” she said. She closed her eyes and hugged him tighter. Over his shoulder she saw the hundreds of spears hurtling through the air.

So be it
, she thought. She would die in Harruq’s arms. She could think of no better way.

“
T
hey’ll be killed!” Lathaar shouted as their horse neared. They had almost caught up with Aurelia by the time she flung her arms around her husband.

“Ride in front of them,” Jerico ordered as he pulled his shield off his back. “And pray Ashhur is with us both.”

Lathaar did as asked, tugging on the reins. Jerico leaped off, rolling across the dirt and ignoring the sudden pain to his arms and knees. There was no time. He slammed the lower edge of his shield into the dirt to halt his roll, then shoved it into the air.

“
Elholad!
” he shouted. A white image of his shield shimmered an inch above the steel, and then grew, larger and larger. For a hundred yards it stretched out, spreading outward like the shield of a god. The spears pelted against it, their tips melting, their shafts breaking. Jerico winced, feeling every single spear as it hit the shield, each one sapping a little more of his strength. When the last one broke, their remains raining down between them and the army, Jerico lowered his shield and managed to grin in between gasping for air.

“Praise Ashhur,” he said. “That was awesome.”

As if in response, the western sky groaned with thunder.

Lathaar circled his horse about and dismounted, smacking it on the rump so it’d bolt back to the city. As the two paladins stood before Harruq and Aurelia, Haern appeared, a smile on his face.

“Care if I join your last stand?” he asked.

“More than welcome,” Lathaar said. “Ashhur knows we need you.”

Harruq stood, and Aurelia stood with him. He pointed a sword at the faint image of Qurrah, and as he did the red glow about the blade turned white.

“He’s mine,” Harruq said. “Kill as you must, but leave him to me.”

Aurelia stepped back, seeing the change in his eyes and unsure of what it meant. The two paladins saw the glow on his blades, however, and could think of only one conclusion.

“Blessed be,” Jerico said, laughing in spite of all the insanity. “Blessed be.”

“
W
hat trickery is this?” Ulamn said as he watched his soldiers’ attacks rendered futile by the glowing shield.

“They are powerful,” Tessanna said. “Do you still doubt that?”

“I will send in my dead,” Velixar said. “Those there are the city’s greatest defenders, out in the open. We kill them, and Mordeina will fall in time.”

Tessanna opened her mouth to say something, but suddenly stopped. Her muscles tightened. Her head flung back.

“Tess?” Qurrah asked, grabbing her shoulders. “Tess!”

“
R
emind me to never, ever get into a fight with one of them,” Tarlak said as he watched the rain of spears shatter on Jerico’s holy shield. His heart had been heavy, expecting to watch his friends murdered, but instead they survived and gathered to fight. Beside him Mira smiled, and then suddenly she snapped erect. Her arms flung wide. Her mouth opened, and high above the western sky rumbled angrily.

As one, Mira and Tessanna spoke, their voices impossibly loud. All for miles clearly heard their words.

“
Long I have watched,”
they cried.
“Long I have slumbered. But the Balance is broken. My world, my beloved creation, is ruined. A demon army marches, to free whom I have imprisoned. So be it. If Balance is to tumble, then let it tumble, but not without a chance for redemption. I have been given a sign of faith, and of hope. If Karak is to have his demons, then I will give Ashhur his angels.”

A sound greater than any thunder resounded throughout the vale. The western sky split. All who looked saw a land golden and shimmering, and from it flew men with white wings and golden armor. They were in exact number as Ulamn’s troops, who raised their weapons and shouted in bitter hatred.

Just as sudden as it had opened the tear in the sky closed. The thunder quieted. The angels flew in their formations, over Mordeina and straight for the war demons.

“
S
uch hypocrisy,” Velixar seethed, his whole body shaking with rage. “The whore promises neutrality, and yet releases Ashhur’s soldiers while keeping Karak imprisoned?”

“It is her last gasp,” Qurrah said as he held Tessanna in his arms. The girl had collapsed after issuing her statements, her eyes closed and her body limp. “She cannot stop us on her own.”

“Destroy the fools on the ground,” Ulamn said as he spread his wings. “We will massacre Ashhur’s soldiers and then move onto the city. We will not fail here!”

The demon took to the sky, commanding his troops and preparing for the assault. Velixar issued an order, and at once his multitude of undead lumbered forward, to bury Harruq and his allies under their sheer weight and number.

“
T
ime for some fun,” Tarlak said, cracking his knuckles. Mira lay beside him, her back propped against the ledge. She was still breathing, so he assumed she would recover, he just didn’t know when. Being possessed by a goddess certainly wasn’t something he was familiar with. Praying she would be fine, he looped his hands about and hurled a ball of flame through the air. Its aim was true, and it exploded amid a massive amount of undead, consuming their corpses. He chuckled and prepared another.

“Do as much damage while they are still packed tight,” Dieredon said from behind him. Tarlak turned to see the elf riding Sonowin.

“Planned on it,” Tarlak said as he tipped his hat.

Dieredon saluted back, then yanked on Sonowin’s reins. Horse and rider soared over the wall, just ahead of the first wave of angels. He released the reins and drew his bow, trusting his mount. He drew three arrows from his quiver, their tips glistening with holy water. He pulled all three back and fired into the horde of demons, each one piercing through armor, wing, or flesh. Spears flew his direction, but Sonowin dodged with ease. Dieredon fired volley after volley, until the army was almost upon him. He then looped his bow about his back, grabbed the reins, and dove.