Deadly Intentions (Blood Feud - Volume 2) (34 page)

All too soon, and of course when she least
expected it, Lesariu took flight with the other greater dragons to
engage the larger mystic dragons, and their riders. Her grandmother
brought her between two magicians as Mina unhooked her
Dragon’s
Fist
, so aptly named the Guisian Princess considered darkly,
and swung it above her head, snapped her wrist and decapitated one
of the red robed sorcerers.

~

Ubani yelled in triumph as he effortlessly
sliced the head off another pitiful human soldier in front of him.
He stepped back into the gateway as his hordes rushed around him,
pushing the humans back to their next position a hundred yards
away. His archers and towers emptied the wall in short order, and
then a half-dozen of Binos’s pet magicians had blasted the gateway
apart before being chased off by the four large dragons.

The smoldering ruins of the once
indestructible gateway fell from large metal hinges. The chains
hung limply where they had once been connected to pulleys to help
open the vast gates to the Expanse. He felt the ground tremble
under his feet and quickly stepped inside the gateway and to the
left as four giants lumbered through the gate, paying little
attention to the army flooding through at their feet. Small dragons
swooped down and irritated the giants, making them stomp around
recklessly as they destroyed catapults and flattened his infantry.
He silently cursed Binos, who continued to do battle with the red
dragon and its rider, for including the simpletons in his battle
plan.

The orc Legate stepped forward as one of the
few human defenders left alive came running towards him. He smiled
sadistically as he prepared himself, leaning back on his left foot.
The human let loose an animalistic war cry, making Ubani chuckle as
he drove his blade deep into the pathetic human’s stomach. Lifting
him up by the blade he snarled as the human screamed in pain, and
then he tossed him like a small child into the press of bodies
still pouring through the Great Gate.

~

“Hold this position as long as you can
Colonel.” Kevin said quietly. “But I want you all half way to our
next position before the enemy breeches this one. Understood?”

“Aye sir.” Yeris answered quickly between
relaying orders to his soldiers.

Kevin gave the man a pat on the back before
turning away and mounting his horse. He signaled for his cavalry to
move forward and set off towards their next hastily constructed
defensive position. Eurydice had warned him month ago that a large
force of orcs were headed towards the Great Wall of Terious, and
with Tristan off on his quest, he had taken command of the Terum
army, reinforced it with elements of his own and began setting up
defensive road blocks, traps and embankments all the way back to
Kumia Palace.

The battle for Terum would be decided there
as it was the only defensible position where they could wait out
the siege and possibly turn the tide of the invaders army. What he
hadn’t been prepared for was the ease with which they’d taken the
Great Wall, and blasted through the gate. While Kevin didn’t have
possess any magic of his own, being a member of his family had
given him at least an understanding of the power it had taken for
those magicians to breach the gate.

They were going to need to employ all the
tricks and traps they could if they were going to even the odds,
never mind trying to tilt them in their favor. Kevin rode past
another defensive position, shouting to the commander that he
should expect Colonel Yeris within the next hour. He saluted,
nodding his understanding, as Kevin urged his horse up to a gallop
and rode on to Kumia Palace.

The final preparations were being made as
Kevin rode over the drawbridge and into his brother’s palace. He
wasn’t sure where his brother was, but it was likely something that
he and his men were ill-equipped to help him with. Instead, he
concentrated on the defenses here and stopping the sea of attackers
quickly approaching his position.

He relayed orders to his officers as he made
his way through the palace to the north wall. Along the way and
ashen faced hand maiden stopped him in his tracks. Tears stained
her face as her voice failed her.

“What is it woman?” He said calmly.

She grabbed his hand and pulled him along
behind her. Typically his size earned him sideways furtive glances
by most of the female staff, and this was the only thought that
kept him from pulling his hand away. With surprising speed and
strength she pulled Kevin into his brother’s bed chamber.

A familiar smell greeted his nose and he
pulled his hand away from the servant. The color drained from his
face. He walked around the side of the bed, dreading what he was
going to find. Lying there on the bed, her eyes looking up at the
ceiling in shock and pain, was the former matron of his own son;
Maggie.

The body of her orc killer had been dragged
into the room from the hallway, and its head a short distance away
from it. Black anger festered in his stomach. It wasn’t bad enough
that they stormed towards the palace; they felt the need to slay
his sister-in-law. Cold certainty gripped him as he knew the author
of her poisoning, and the irony of Tristan’s wasted months as they
accomplished their goal just the same.

The surprise would be on them, while his
younger brother might disregard his personal safety when he was
angry; it focused his mind to a fine razor’s edge. The joke would,
in the end, be on the murderers.

~

Tristan stirred as he was pushed gently.
Looking up he found Bethia’s face dominating his vision and felt
her voice in his mind.

Are you injured?
She asked in
concern.

“No, no. I’m fine. Just took a nasty fall.”
He replied, pushing himself up against the tower once again.
Tristan’s surroundings came into focus and he found that he was all
alone on the north side of the wall. How he’d remained hidden from
the army of orcs was a mystery to him.

I used my arts to mask you and the tower
from sight.
Bethia answered eagerly.

“Thank you my friend.” Tristan said,
scratching her behind the jaw. Chuckling at her cooing sound he
looked around the trampled landscape. Few corpses littered the
ground; the sorcerer’s body was gone though. A tower lay in a
destroyed pile of rubbish, along with several bodies crushed
beneath it. His attention then turned towards the gate. Even from
here he could smell the burned wood, one of the doors hung
uselessly from the lower hinge, while the other was missing
altogether. Despite his victory over the mage, there was still a
rather large army invading his country.

Motioning for Bethia to lean down, he mounted
back into his damaged saddle and urged her to take flight. Leaping
from the ground she was quickly up and over the wall, giving
Tristan a better appreciation for the forces gathered against them.
Spread out before him was a veritable sea of creatures, much more
than King Boris had thrown at him, and more than his own uncle had
called into battle in Sutten over a year ago. Where these creatures
kept coming from was as much an irritation as it was cause for deep
concern.

Giants littered the landscape like towers in
a rolling palace. Catapults, ballistae and trebuchets created small
pockets of barren landscape amidst the hordes of orcs, trolls,
ogres and various other creatures he couldn’t make out at this
altitude. Gathering Bethia under him, Tristan urged her to pick up
speed, hoping that they hadn’t laid Kumia to siege yet.

After almost a hundred kilometers Tristan
began to see the hordes begin to thin out and eventually stop as
defensive barricades along the highway blocked their progress.
Pointing with his mind just behind the most forward position he
directed Bethia to land in a clear patch between two ballistae. She
landed effortlessly, pawing the ground eagerly as she eyed the
younglings flying over their heads towards the hordes, belching
fire into their lines.

Oh go on and have some fun.
Tristan
sent with a laugh and slap on her scaled neck.

The Prince unsheathed his sword and sliced
the saddle from her back, allowing the ruined leather bits to fall
freely to the ground as she roared and took flight. Taking command
of the younglings she led them in a V formation towards the
charging invaders.

Those soldiers looking over the barricades
were forced to overt their eyes, cursing, as the dragons lit
hundreds of attackers on fire and slowed their advance down to a
stand-still. The defenders cheered as Bethia and the younglings
roared in triumph and flew over the attackers again, launching
columns of fire at random into their ranks. Chaos reigned supreme
as flames erupted among the invaders.

“Well that should slow those bastards down.”
A familiar voice called from Tristan’s left.

Smiling, the Prince turned and embraced his
old friend. “General.” He said in mock surprise.

“Out here on the field like a common
Sergeant?” Tristan chided.

“I’d punch you boy, but you look run out
anyways.” Frose threatened.

“Spare me.” Tristan shot with a roll of his
eyes. “How goes the withdrawal?”

“Well enough. Colonel Yeris waits for us at
the next position and Duke Kevin is preparing Kumia for a long
siege.” General Frose reported.

“So.” The Prince said, drawing his sword
slowly. “There’s nothing left to do but fight.”

Frose smiled sadistically as he drew his
sword and shouted for his archers to pick their targets. Soon
afterwards orc heads began to peak up over the barricades and were
quickly filled with arrows. An unearthly horn sounded and attackers
swarmed over the barricades as the two old friends prepared
themselves for battle.

The first orc that reached them had his slash
turned aside easily as Tristan slipped his sword in and sliced open
his torso from his right hip to his opposite soldier. Tristan spun
around and brought his sword crashing down, severing another orcs
arm between the elbow and wrist. The orc gasped and griped his stub
protectively, looking up at the Prince in shock and anger. Tristan
still had his sword in motion and sliced it clean through the orcs
neck, sending rancid blood shooting upwards from the wound as he
kicked the still standing corpse back into its companions.

For hours the defenders held their ground all
along the barricades. Tristan had been relieved several times,
though he’d lost count of how many times at that point. His arm
felt like it would fall off at the shoulder from the continuous up
and down of his slashes. A familiar horn sounded and a large squad
of cavalry leapt over their barricades and into the enemy camp. The
orcs were thrown into disarray as horses trampled them and soldiers
lashed out at the few who managed to roll out of the way of the
large war steeds.

“You boys need a hand?” Kevin called with a
chuckle as he pulled up on his reigns, bringing his horse to a
skidding halt.

As though to answer his question Bethia
landed on the ground behind him and let forth a triumphant roar.
Above her the younglings darted among the orcs, those that were
large enough grabbed onto and tossed orcs into rocks, equipment and
other enemy forces, while others belched flames into the most
condensed areas of attackers. Tristan sheathed his sword and
shifted his shield to his back as he leapt up on Bethia’s unsaddled
back and smiled back at his brother.

“Not so you’d notice, no.” He answered
flippantly.

The large red dragon leapt into the air and
they joined the younglings wreaking havoc within the orc
encampments. Below them Kevin organized the withdrawal to the
palace, all along the lines soldiers moved fifty yards back, then
turned and protected the next line of defenders. Before long all of
the humans who weren’t dead or dying were inside the palace walls.
Bethia had forged the younglings into a devastating force that
proved to tip the balance of this war. Their reports on where the
other elder dragons were at proved confusing at best. Suffice to
say that they were missing in action, which had Tristan and
Bethia’s nerves set on the razors edge.

Despite their best efforts, the hordes of
orcs drove their way through the Great Gateway and into Terum
territory. Draconis, Socolis, Lesariu and Raithia carried their
riders into the fray of conjured dragons and dangerous magicians.
Draconis led the draconic force into battle, with Dion of his back,
though neither of them wanting to put their kin into harm’s
way.

The Dragon King pulled into a steep climb as
three mystic dragons flew towards him. The sorcerers on their backs
launched their missiles of flame and lightning. He folded his wings
into his body as he allowed himself to roll over and fall into an
equally steep dive. Dion clutched his scales nervously as the wind
pulled his hair back and his cloak whipped behind him.

Draconis snapped his wings out, jamming Dion
into his spine with bone jarring pain. The human pulled his bow
from his back along with an arrow in one fluid motion, drawing back
and firing at the nearest mage. The mystic dragon winked out of
existence as the mage took the cloth yard shaft in the middle of
his chest. Another arrow followed the first as another sorcerer and
conjured dragon came coasting in behind the fallen one.

Draconis saw the shower of blood and bone
spray out of the back of the sorcerers head. His arrow pierced the
magicians’ eye socket and forced its way through the back of his
skull. The blood sprayed all over the magician coming up behind
him, temporarily blinding him. Mina lashed out with her formidable
whip, pulling the mage easily from his spot on the back of the
mystic dragon. Socolis came in from above and destroyed the dragon
with a column of fire.