Dark Lord of Kismera: Knights of Kismera (26 page)

Vashti remained cool and composed. She ignored the sounds of battle behind her. She was distantly aware of the twang of Ka’Ril’s bowstring as a warrior from the enemy side came too close. She closed all thought of her husband from her mind. It was time to teach the youngster a lesson and if he refused to learn, she would end him.

Vashti rapidly fired multiple balls of fire at the sorcerer who deflected each one with an upraised palm. He fired back with the same spell. Vashti deflected and then rapidly cast her next spell.

The mage was preparing his next spell when the ground shifted under his feet. He staggered a step and looked down as the hard earth turned to sand. He began to sink and jumped backwards desperate to find firm footing. He flung his hand up, and two daggers magically appeared.

Vashti countered with another shielding spell and the knives bounced harmlessly away. She suddenly changed before his eyes in a spell he had never encountered. She had been wearing tan breeches, boots, and a loose white shirt, but she became almost transparent, her clothes a flowing death dress; her pale hair billowing around her as if caught in a storm. The chant of the spell came from her lips as she became wraithlike, her voice sounded like death calling him. The sorcerer frozen as panic beat in his chest.

He watched the elf as the spell took her over, and he began to speak his next spell, hoping to halt her before it was too late. It was now a race to see who could finish off the other first.

Vashti’s head went back as she spoke the words, the wind picking up around her, tearing at her hair, the rags of the wraith’s dress flowing with the wind. Vashti looked back at her enemy and raised her hands over her head, her voice rising as she continued. One missed word and the wraith spell would consume her. She was not so far into her spell that she did not miss that he was trying to call down lightning.

Her eyes began to glow with a deep purple light. The air swirled over her head and a vortex opened over her, the screams of the damned coming from within it. The southern sorcerer tried to speak his spell quicker and fumbled over the words as fear gripped him tighter.

With a sudden movement, Vashti pointed her arms at him: palms up and the mist coming from the vortex moved and enveloped the other magic user. He lost concentration and as the mist surrounded him, he screamed, fighting off the unseen hands that pulled at him. He seemed to levitate for a second and then, he was gone, the vortex closing with the echo of the screams within.

Vashti collapsed as the spell ended, momentarily drained to exhaustion. Ka’Ril rushed to stand over her protectively while she caught her breath. Once she had recovered enough, he would see her safely out of there.

Riding at a gallop, Ki’s forces charged into the midst of the southern forces, unaware of the battle being fought by Vashti and the other magic user. Her sword flashed death to any who stood in her way. Ki fought completely focused, intent on making it through the lines to the back where she knew the southern leader hid. She had been separated from Cearan at the start, the first contact with the enemy like a wave. The noise was deafening, orders no longer able to be heard.

A Zakara bumped her horse from behind and shoved into the animal’s hindquarters as it stumbled away. Ki turned her horse, using her knees to guide it, and slashed at the wolf creature. Her blade caught it across the neck, spraying her and her mount with its blood. As the creature dropped, she spurred the gelding again and fought slowly forward.

Spinning Pride in a circle, Drace called to his men. Lowering his visor, he then took a firmer grip on his lance. With a deep-voiced yell, he led his men over the ridge and onto the slope. Lexin was moving also, his horsemen followed in a charge down the opposite hill.

Startled men and Zakaras turned to find this new enemy. It was an unnerving sight as a multitude of horses charged down the sides in full gallop, the lances of their riders lowering in unison.

Drace could feel the power of Pride as he moved smoothly under him and heard the stallion’s breathing as he ran. It was like being suspended in the moment, the wind whistled in his ears through his helm. The fear and nervousness had left him and was replaced by an odd mixture of anger and adrenalin.

Pride ran onto the field, his ears pinned flat against his head, a stallion’s scream erupting from him as Drace speared a huge Zakara warrior. Drace hit him so hard the Zakara hung suspended for a second before the lance snapped. Drace dropped it and let Pride run through the melee while he drew his long sword and adjusted his shield. Pride took a snatching bite at a southern man who stumbled in front of him. The man shrieked and went down under the horse and Drace felt the horse step on the man.

Drace quickly called his men to turn and they charged back into the fight. He ceased to think, swinging his sword in killing arcs. They fought for what seemed like eternity. Drace felt the air sawing in and out of his lungs as he fought on and the adrenalin that surged through him made him slightly nauseous. Across the valley, he saw Ki in combat with a heavyset man. She had lost her horse somewhere and was in a sword-to-sword match with him. The big man didn’t seem to be much of a challenge to her, but Drace tried to push through to her anyway.

A horse came up beside him and it screamed as it went down. Drace checked Pride and saw Cearan go down with the horse. The Werre man jumped to his feet, bareheaded, having lost his helm in the fall, but coming up with a sword in each hand.

“Go, brother!” Cearan called. He had been trying to reach Ki as well and on foot would be slower. Cearan hacked his way into the midst of the fight, a savage grin on his blood-splattered face.

Drace hesitated then had to defend himself as two men attacked. When he had dispatched them he looked over at Cearan who was running for his next victims. Cearan went to jump over a fallen enemy and was bumped as he leapt. He stumbled when he landed in between two southern men who turned to fight him. Cearan went down in a confusion of flashing swords and fists. Drace lost sight of him, screaming Cearan’s name. He pushed Pride through to get to him. He heard a loud lion’s roar from the pile of fighting men, and then Pride stumbled badly, throwing Drace, who landed heavily on his back. He didn’t have time to think when an axe smashed into the ground by his head. He had lost his shield in the fall so he rolled and climbed to his feet, drawing his dagger.

“Down!” a voice yelled in front of him. Drace dropped instinctively to a knee as a sword whizzed over where his head had been a second before. There was a solid thump and a Zakara fell beside him. Drace looked up to see a blood covered Siken over him, grinning. Siken slapped a gloved hand on Drace’s shoulder then took off at a run, looking for more enemies.

Drace rose to his feet as a dragon’s roar nearly deafened him. He looked around and saw where the Blood dragon had crashed to the ground and now limped along, its wings in tatters. The red dragon was stalking Ki, as she stepped over the body of the big man she had been fighting.

She turned and raised the visor on her helm. Realizing the dragon was pursuing her, she roared at it, and swung her sword, hoping to hold it off. The dragon answered with a roar of its own. Ki stumbled and went down, the dragon following with a clawed foot and captured her with it, pinning her down.

“NOOO!!” Drace screamed and took off at a run.

The dragon turned and crouched, hissing a warning at this new threat. Sword ready, Drace didn’t think, just reacted to this beast from his dreams. He knew Ki was still alive as she roared in fury again.

Sweeping its other clawed foot, it caught Drace a punishing blow, flinging him backwards. Drace tried to get his breath as his vision spun dizzily. Ki’s scream brought him to his senses. It was a scream of fear, not a roar. Fury tore through him and he got to his feet and ran once more, sword raised and gripped tightly in both of his hands.

The Blood dragon’s attention was back on Ki and Drace saw the vulnerable spot behind the horned frill. As the dragon raised the foot that trapped Ki, Drace took a running jump and gave a savage downward swing of his claymore, putting all his weight behind his stroke. The blow jerked the sword from his hands as he fell. A surprised grunt came from the red dragon as it went down, its neck nearly severed.

Drace tried to get to his feet from where he rolled up against the neck of the dragon. He heard Ki scream again but he couldn’t seem to move to get to her. There was a tearing gasp that he realized was his.

Ki appeared at his side, calling his name and pulling at his arm. She got a shoulder under his arm and helped him away from the body of the dragon as it thrashed in its death throes. Violent pain shot through his side and he screamed with it then coughed and blood drops splattered Ki’s breastplate.

She looked wildly around her then waved at someone. She tried to protect his eyes as dust blew around them. There was a soft thump next to them as Nimbus landed. “It is over,” the Ice dragon stated.

Ki rose from beside Drace and looked around. The fighting was almost over now that all the enemy leaders were dead or missing. She turned back to Nimbus. “Help Drace please,” she pleaded. “He is hurt badly.”

“No,” Drace whispered. “Breath knocked out is all,” he panted then tried to rise. He couldn’t find the strength. “Can’t see you,” Drace said and tried to take his helm off. Ki helped him remove it.

“Better?” Ki asked, an odd expression on her face, tears in her eyes.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “What’s…wrong?”

Vashti and Ka’Ril appeared in his sight. “Be still, my Lord,” Vashti whispered.

“Can’t breathe,” Drace choked out then coughed and felt something warm run over his chin. He touched a gloved hand to his chin and came back with blood on it. “Oh…shit.”

“That is right. Oh shit,” Ki lamented

“That bad?” he questioned, feeling tired all of a sudden

Tears spilled over Ki’s dark lashes. “Yes, my love. It is bad.”

Vashti gave orders to get Drace out of his armor and mail shirt. She and Nimbus shared a telepathic conversation then she covered her face with a shaking hand. When she moved it, tears were in her eyes and Ka’Ril put a supporting hand on her shoulder.

A horse galloped up and Lexin jumped off, leading Pride with him. “What has happened?” he asked. “Where is Cearan?”

“Saw…him fall,” Drace looked at Ki, feeling helpless, but knowing he had to hurt her. “He’s gone.” Tears stung his eyes.

“Oh no,” she whispered. “Oh no.”

“My Lady, I can do nothing for him,” Vashti spoke softly. “There is too much damage inside. I have not enough magic left to heal him.”

Drace tried to draw a deep breath and strangled. He had a smothered sensation and he tried to fight against it.

“Set him up or he might choke,” Nimbus ordered. “I too have little magic left, my Lady.”

“No, you have to help him,” Ki pleaded, sobbing now.

“There is a way, but he will still be lost to you,” Nimbus told her, speaking gently. “I can send him back, to the time just before he came here.”

Ki went deathly pale. “Would he survive? If he went back would he live?”

“I know not,” Nimbus told her truthfully. “His chances are better there. The healers in his world may be able to help him. Here he will surely die. It will take stronger magic to heal him and Vashti, Azure, and I must rest before we could attempt and control our magic to heal. He does not have that much time. But, once there, I will not be able to bring him back again.”

“No,” Ki moaned and took Drace’s hands in hers.

“What is it?” Drace asked, “I’m…cold.” He pulled at his shirt collar. “Can’t breathe.” The smothering feeling was getting stronger and he felt panic run through him.

“My love, the only way for you to live is to go back. You must go,” Ki gently explained to him as tears streamed down her dirty cheeks.

Drace shook his head. He tried to protest but found he could no longer speak and he couldn’t breathe without feeling like he had inhaled water. He began to struggle. Many hands held him down.

“My Lady?” Nimbus asked Ki. “You must decide.”

“Yes.” She laid her head against Drace’s “Yes. At least he has a chance to live.”

What is she doing? Don’t I have a say? I’d rather die here with her than go back.
He grabbed at her, clutching at her arms, shaking his head.

Ki leaned back to see his face. “I must do this, my Lord, for I love you and I will always believe you live, even if it is not with me.” She nodded to Nimbus and Vashti.

“We must hurry, Master. His life is fading,” Vashti said, and closed her eyes, beginning to chant a spell. Nimbus leaned over Drace, a red tear in his silver eyes. It dropped with a thud on Drace’s chest as it hardened, and Ki tucked it in Drace’s glove and then leaned over to kiss him softly on the mouth. When she pulled back his blood was on her lips, an obscene gloss.

“My Lady, you must move back. Give him Pride’s reins.” Nimbus instructed her.

Lexin gave her the stallion’s reins and she placed them in Drace’s hand. He fought again,
‘no, no, no,’
echoing in his head.

“Ki,” he managed. “Love you” Tears escaped his eyes and he felt himself falling. He saw Lexin hold Ki as his vision faded. She was sobbing wildly now, calling his name.

Drace screamed.

“MR. MACKINNON. Mr. MacKinnon,” a distant voice in his head repeated. “Drace! You need to lay still.”

Drace fought the hands that held him, and struggled against the pressure on his chest. He felt smothered. He couldn’t seem to open his eyes. He fought harder and wished he wasn’t so weak. He heard voices and then darkness swallowed him again.

Drace opened his eyes to bright lights that stung harshly, so he closed them again. His thoughts were fuzzy and he couldn’t focus on anyone other than the red-hot pain that shot through his ribs and head. He took a tentative breath, which was painful, but he could draw in air. He tried to move his hand, but found it restrained somehow. He jerked but he was held fast. There was a vaguely familiar voice by his head.

“Drace, lie still please,” a woman pleaded hoarsely.

That sounds like…Cerise, but she’s not here. Where is Ki?
He called Ki’s name, and tried to move his hands again, but failed. He jerked his arms, hard.

“Drace,” the voice soothed. “Please stop, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Drace tried opening his eyes again, but the light hurt so badly. “Light,” he managed a gravelly croak.

“Here, hon, I’ll turn it off and just leave the smaller one on,” the woman cooed.

“Cerise?” he whispered; even that small word hurt his raw throat.

“Drace, I’ve been so worried. When they brought you in from surgery, you started fighting the nurses. You’ve broken some ribs very badly and punctured a lung. They had to put restraints on you when you almost pulled out your chest tube.”

Drace opened his eyes a slit. The light was dimmer so he opened them the rest of the way. Everything was blurry, but he recognized Cerise. His aunt stood next to him, one dainty hand on his big one.

Nimbus and Vashti had done it. Oh God!
He took a sobbing breath. No, no, no! He didn’t realize he had started screaming until a couple of nurses rushed in. One held a syringe and injected the contents into Drace’s IV, while the second one grabbed at his hands.

“I’m sorry, Mr. MacKinnon. You have to calm down,” one said as the drug took effect and darkness claimed him once more.

This time when Drace regained consciousness he lay quiet, taking in voices in the room. There was a murmur as Cerise talked to a nurse or doctor. He moved his arm and found he was still restrained. He didn’t fight them this time.

“Cerise,” he whispered his voice very hoarse, his throat sore and dry.

The hospital smells assaulted him as he took a deeper breath. He tried again and managed a louder croak, “Cerise, please.”

He felt her move to the side of the bed and heard her soft voice, “Hey, you’re back with us.”

Drace coughed and found it hurt,
a lot.
He hissed in a gasp.

“Do you want something for pain, Mr. MacKinnon?” a nurse asked from the other side of the bed.

He opened his eyes carefully; his head throbbed. “No… don’t want to sleep.”

“Okay, Mr. MacKinnon.” She placed the nurses’ call button in his hand. “Just push this if you want something.”

“Please…,” He tried to move his hands again, pulling the restraints, “…be good.”

The nurse leaned over him and looked into his eyes. “Promise? No more fighting us, Mr. MacKinnon?”

“No,” he shook his head, and then winced. “…head hurts.”

“You have a very bad concussion, young man, among other things,” the nurse gently explained. She was middle aged, grandmotherly and looked a little familiar.

“You look…like Estelle,” Drace murmured, and then pulled his wrist against the strap once more.

The nurse removed the first strap then reached over him and undid the other one. She adjusted the head of the bed so that he was sitting up slightly. “Any trouble young man and these go back on. We can’t have you pulling out that chest tube.”

Drace nodded, and then closed his eyes. He was so tired and he hurt everywhere, especially his chest, head, and face…even his hair hurt.

The nurse checked his IV once more and left the room.

“Cerise?” he called a whisper.

“Hey hon.” She came over and sat in a chair beside the bed. She took his hand and he curled his fingers around her smaller, smooth hand.

“Do you remember what happened?” she asked.

Drace swallowed painfully. “Dragon hit me….”

“What?” She offered him an ice chip from the cup she held, knowing it would soothe his throat. “The doctors said the morphine might make you hallucinate.”

“No,” Drace tried to tell her, but his throat was too raw to talk more.

“You had an accident at the show, and Pride fell over backwards on you. You received a concussion, six broken ribs, one of which broke in several places and a piece punctured a lung and stayed in it. You had some internal bleeding as well and the doctors had to go in to repair all of that and remove that bone fragment. Your right knee is swollen. They took x-rays and nothing’s broken, but you’re scheduled for an MRI as soon as they think you’re up for it. You’re black and blue all over. Oh yeah, and you’ve broken your nose. You are rather a sad sight.”

“Pride okay?” he asked, taking another ice chip from her. He realized he was terribly thirsty.

Cerise fussed with his covers. “He’s fine. He was sore in one of his hocks, but the vet said he would be just fine. Joe is keeping an eye on him for you.”

Thank God,
Drace thought. Pride had made it back alright.

“Why do you look so sad, Drace? I said he was okay.” Cerise said.

Drace didn’t want to remember anymore. He gritted his teeth, which made his head hurt worse.

“Do you need something for pain, Hon?”

After a slight hesitation, he managed a nod, wanting no more memories now. Cerise went for a nurse. After the nurse injected pain medication into his IV, he went, blessedly, into oblivion.

Chaos reigned all around Drace. He heard the screams of dying men, the deep bellows of dragons. He saw Cearan fall over and he couldn’t get to him. Then he heard Ki scream, and he saw the red dragon. Ki called his name but he couldn’t find her. He hacked at the dragon, trying repeatedly to kill it, blood spraying everywhere. He heard Ki call him again but still he couldn’t see her and the dragon wouldn’t die. Drace yelled her name, and he woke with a gasp, sweat soaking his hair.

Cerise was asleep in a chair so he knew, thankfully, he hadn’t actually cried out. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe the damn drugs
had
made him dream all that. He wasn’t sure how long he had been out.

A nurse came in to check his incisions, and vitals signs. Cerise woke up and glanced over her shoulder. The nurse assured her everything looked fine and moved to pull Drace’s hospital gown back down but Cerise stopped her.

“Drace, where did you get this scar?” she asked.

He looked puzzled so she traced a spot over his navel about seven inches and he felt the knotted tissue where it had healed poorly.

Oh God,
he thought as his world fell apart,
Oh God,
and he began to cry, huge racking sobs, causing pain to radiate along his side and through his head. He tried to stop but he couldn’t. He covered his face with one hand while Cerise took hold of his other. She nodded for the nurse to leave and she sat with him for a long while. Finally, he wore himself out, and lay staring at the wall. The pain in his body was not match for the pain in his heart.

Drace underwent surgery on the torn ligaments found in his knee. The chest tube was removed after several days and the assorted bruises began to fade, but he had no appetite and had to be bullied into eating. Even then, he just picked at his food. He refused pain medication, saying it gave him nightmares.

Cerise was worried, she couldn’t figure out why the accident was affecting him this way, and he wouldn’t talk about it.

He had visitors, but no one could seem to draw him out. Even Joe, who brought good news about Pride, had left with a worried look.

One day as Drace sat poking a fork at his eggs, the young woman who lived two doors down from him came to visit; her young daughter, Penny, was with her. The petite redhead carried a bouquet of flowers. “Good morning sunshine,” she greeted, and set the daisies and marigolds on the window ledge. “Drace, you look like hell.”

“Mom, that’s a bad word,” the strawberry blonde little girl scolded, and then went to climb up on the bed for a closer look at Drace.

“Autumn, don’t do that. You’ll hurt Drace,” her mother scolded, reaching for the little girl’s arm.

“No, she can come up,” Drace said suddenly, causing Cerise to raise an eyebrow. Autumn’s mother gave her daughter a boost up, and the little girl sat carefully next to him. Drace gave her curls an affectionate tug.

“Are you taking good care of Thomas?” he asked her.

“How did you know I was taking care of Thomas?” she grinned.

“I know all kinds of stuff. How’s school?”

The two started to chat about her school and homework and the cat.

“That’s the most he’s said since he got here,” Cerise said. “I’m really worried about him.”

“Do you think it had anything to do with the concussion?” Penny asked.

“He was fighting the nurses after his surgery, like he didn’t know where he was. The doctor thought it might have been the anesthesia; he’s been depressed ever since.”