Deadly Intentions (Blood Feud - Volume 2) (36 page)

The mystic dragon vanished in a powerful
explosion, throwing Mina farther back. She tumbled head over foot
as she fell again. She realized with cool certainty that this must
be the final moments of her young life. Her life began to flash
before her eyes, from childhood playing with her mother to her
brief love affair with the Guisian General Fudi, the spell that
gripped her and Tristan for months, her pregnancy and eventual joy
at the life she’d brought into this world.

She saw the face of her beloved son, his
nose, ears and eyes as they grew and contorted into the face of her
great love. Silently she tried to finally let Tristan know her
truest feelings before a flash of golden light passed over her
face. Mina was at peace and ready, this golden light must be the
nimbus coming to take her to the afterlife she considered with an
odd sort of detachment.

~

Eurydice watched the sister of her heart take
the fight to the enemy sorcerer. His blasts seemed to have no
effect as she lashed out with her whip and wrapped it around the
bastard’s throat. Raithia was dead, her mother for all she knew was
dead and her father was diving to his certain death as well. She
could no longer feel their warm presence in her mind’s eye.

The Vallius Princess watched in morbid
gratification as the sorcerers head was ripped from his body. She
mentally urged Socolis to pick up speed so they could catch Mina as
she would undoubtedly fall once the mystic dragon faded away. The
white dragon gathered speed as he shot forward bringing himself in
low enough so Euri could catch Mina.

Then the purple dragon exploded and tossed
Socolis backwards. Eurydice held on for her life as he tumbled
through the air and began to fall. She couldn’t feel his thoughts
and feared that the explosion had somehow killed him. After a few
terrifying moments of vertigo, he spread his wings and came out of
his fall.

A golden blur shot past them, knocking
Socolis backwards again. He quickly recovered and Euri looked over
his flank to see Lesariu plummeting after her granddaughter.
Socolis gathered his wings close and dove after her while Eurydice
clung onto his scales and tried to keep her eyes open despite the
incredible wind.

Below them the large bronze dragon spread her
wings and broke out of her dive. But they were on the north side of
the Great Wall and that close to the ground was still littered with
smoldering ruins of rolling towers. Lesa caught her wing on one of
them and it snapped backwards sharply, clearly breaking her wing as
it lurched around the tower into an odd angle.

She spun and fell to the ground, knocking
over another half dozen towers as she rolled to a painful stop
against the wall itself. Socolis had barely touched down as Euri
leapt off his back and ran as quickly as she could towards the
injured and bloody golden dragon.

~

It was a ragged band that arrived on the
walls of Kumia Palace hours later. Kevin and Tristan watched as
each progressive worse wounded warrior dismounted from Draconis and
Socolis. Lesa sat clutching her broken arm, waiting in mute pain as
their father to their sister slowly lowered Annadora.

Eurydice put her mother’s arm around her neck
and limped forward as the brothers quickly separated themselves
from the gathered soldiers. In one fluid motion Kevin gathered up
his mother in his arms and motioned one of the soldiers to step
forward to help Euri keep the weight off of her broken leg. Dion
slowly lowered himself from Draconis’ back, wincing as he was
forced to leap the last two feet to the brick courtyard floor.

Drake stepping forward to gather Lesa into
his arms, taking care to keep her broken arm free of contact with
his chest, followed a brief flash. Tristan stepped forward and
caught Mina lightly as Socolis shifted her unconscious form from
his back. Another flash of light and the old white bearded man
stepped forward with a slight limp, but otherwise unharmed. The
young Prince looked from the mother of his child to the old man,
who simply smiled as he put his hand around Tristan’s
shoulders.

“She’s fine lad. Just a little worse for
wear.” He said lightly.

Mina mumbled his name as she wrapped her arms
around his neck and snuggled her head into the grove between his
shoulder and chest. Tristan was supremely uncomfortable with the
closeness, which was more out of respect for his dead wife than any
affection he felt for Mina.

Upon his arrival at the palace the palace
staff had besieged Tristan. They dragged him off to his rooms. He’d
been sick to his stomach upon seeing his beautiful wife with a
large hole in her stomach, and the rotting corpse of her murderer
laying mere feet away. In a fit of rage Tristan had grabbed a hold
of the large orcs corpse, and tossed it out of the nearby window.
He then fell to his knees and gave into his grief.

Kevin had finally come to fetch him to the
battlements as the first elements of the orc army began to appear
at the foot of the palace walls. The pair of them arranged for a
funeral pyre to be erected on the tallest tower. Both brothers bade
farewell to a woman who’d been important to both of them, Kevin
placed the customary wreath on the body as the flames raised high
enough to render the body to ashes.

So it was a bittersweet moment for Tristan as
he carried the mother of his son into his palace. Selfishly taking
his time, Tristan walked towards the rooms that had been set aside
for Mina and their boy. He dismissed the hand-maiden when he walked
into the room and lay Mina down carefully on the larger bed in the
room. Jonathan hid his concern well, a testament to his bloodlines
Tristan mused; having intimate experience with his own moods
Tristan knew all too well the inner battle his son waged.

Slowly he walked over to the bed and placed
his hand on Mina’s forehead. Tristan stepped back to watch his
son’s reaction. Jonathan’s eyes fluttered slightly beneath his
eyelids before he finally released the breath he’d been holding in.
A nimbus of light formed around his hands as he sought out his
mothers’ injuries and healed them. Tristan couldn’t have hid his
amazement even if he’d wanted to. His son’s skills far outstripped
his own meager talents and he was still so young.

It was easy to see how the boy would live up
to the prophecy that marked his young life as much as it had his
parents. Slowly Mina’s wounds began to sizzle as they closed with a
small pop of finality.

Whoever had designed and constructed Kumia
Palace had been a genius as far as Tristan was concerned. The
palace itself rose on a small mountain that had been carved and
molded into a proper human dwelling. Its walls were partially made
of the mountain itself, while other parts were made of red brick
and mortar. The effect was an impressive looking structure that
appeared to be part of the landscape at first glance.

At the base of the mountain was a uniform ten
foot tall wall made of the same stone as the palace itself. The
only fault Tristan could find in the layout was that a large force
couldn’t be assembled for a counter attack. They had to rely on the
catapults mounted on the upper wall and the archers assembled here.
Still, it was an impressive and ambitious design.

A horn sounded and the first elements from
the orcish horde ran forward to fall under Terum bow fire. Many of
the attackers survived and turtles were employed to bring up
scaling ladders. The turtles looked to be constructed from wood and
Terum shields, presumably stripped off the dead to wage war. For
the first few hours no attacker made their way onto the palace
walls.

Terum soldiers began to tire as the flying
reserve companies were forced to stand firm and fight, rather than
breach holes in the defenses as was their mandate. Gradually the
defenders began to lose sections of the walls to orc invaders.
Already Tristan and Kevin had to lead companies of soldiers
stripped from the defenses to dig out the sappers and attackers
that made their way onto the wall.

The one boon was simply that all of the
magicians seemed to have been defeated or scared off. Conventional
warfare, as violent and bloody as it was, at least had its
benefits. Even the explosives the orcs used on their defenses were
little more than annoyances compared to what a sorcerer could have
done in moments.

Three earth shaking explosions knocked most
of the defenders off their feet as the wall shook alarmingly.
Tristan fell next to General Frose who swore loudly as he pushed
himself back up. Shaking his head to clear it, Tristan looked up
over the parapet to see a lone purple dragon gliding away from the
wall. The sorcerers’ hands smoldered, sending wisps of smoke
trailing behind him as his mighty mystic dragon banked to the left
for another pass.

Ballistae along the walls fired as the purple
dragon passed over their heads again, breathing flames down onto
the defenders that hadn’t reacted quickly enough to duck behind
something. He could hear Kevin shouting for the catapults as the
sorcerer and his dragon got a little too close to the walls. Jagged
rocks arced over their heads from the walls of the palace above
them. The dragon easily looped and swerved to avoid the worst of
the caltrops.

Tristan could hear the mage shout in pain as
one of the razor sharp caltrops pierced into his leg, showering the
defenders below him with his blood. A shout of triumph went up
along the walls as the sorcerer tumbled from his saddle. His
injured leg flopped uselessly as he screamed and flailed his arms
about vainly.

Then their world rocked below them again as
three rolling monstrosities loaded with explosives blew a hole
fifty feet wide in the wall the moment they collided with it.
Whatever defenders that hadn’t been blown to bits, shook their
heads trying to clear their thoughts and rally to defend the
breach. His own blood obscured Tristan’s vision. He reached around
blindly, trying to find his sword as rough hands grabbed him by the
back of his armor. His hand found the very familiar handle of his
sword as he was dragged down a set of stairs and out of harm’s
way.

The Prince shook his head again, trying to
shake himself back to consciousness, to no avail. He felt the rough
hand grasp his and toss his arm over his rescuers shoulder. Another
shoulder came up under his other arm and soon he was being
half-dragged, half-carried up flights of stairs at a breakneck
pace. Try as he might Tristan couldn’t focus his thoughts. Even
Bethia and Draconis’ concerned thoughts were met with muted replies
as he tried desperately to regain his senses.

~

Kevin watched in mute astonishment as what
resembled rolling houses rushed towards the walls below. Orcs and
Wargs lent their strength to get the houses up to sufficient speed,
finally peeling off at the last moment. He watched with some grim
satisfaction as a few who couldn’t slow down followed the burning
houses right into the wall. Pieces of their bodies flew outwards
from the wall as the first of the rolling houses exploded in a
shower of blood and rock.

Defenders were tossed from the walls. The
lucky ones smashed headlong into the side of the mountain behind
them, dying instantly. Others lost arms and legs or ended up with
stone fragments embedded in their chests, struggling to draw breath
while they bled to death. The second rolling house cleared the path
of all of the rubble created by the first explosion. When the third
house rolled through the wall and into the massive gates protected
the freight tunnel leading up to the palace courtyard, the
explosion rocked the entire palace and sent more than one defender
falling backwards off the upper wall.

Kevin shouted for soldiers to prepare for
invasion and most of the catapults were turned towards the inner
courtyard as he ran down the nearest tower stairwell. The first orc
appeared to his left as he rushed out of the doorway and into the
courtyard. Instinct warned him to duck, narrowly avoiding contact
as the air was cut just above his head.

A few stray hairs fell to his feet as he drew
a dagger from his boot and thrust upward into the abdomen of the
orc attacker. He kicked the dying orc backwards into his comrade as
he reached up and unclipped his axe from its sheath. All along the
walls, catapults and archers released volley’s over defenders
heads. Kevin brought his axe to bare on the next attacker.

For what felt like hours, Kevin’s forces held
the attackers at bay, driving them back to the entrance to the
upper keep and bottling them up inside the passageway. The eldest
Prince felt exhaustion deep inside. Stepping back from the battle
he commanded forces to plug the gap and made his way back up to the
parapet overlooking the hordes below.

His heart sank as he beheld the sea of
creatures still at the foot of Kumia Fortress. Orcs howled as they
attempted to push those in front of them, their towers completely
forgotten as they swarmed into the breach created by the
explosions. Loose stones shook as a roar momentarily deafened
Kevin. His eyes shot over his shoulder as four dragons leapt off of
the highest tower. He couldn’t be sure who was riding them, but he
couldn’t see a rider on any except the white dragon…which only
served to intensify his anxiety; his baby sister was going back
into battle.

~

Tristan awoke sometime later, sore from head
to toe. A matron was busying herself carefully removing pieces of
his armor. His once proud black and red armor was completely
destroyed. Holes still smoked where pieces of burning rock pierced
through the protective scales, leaving burned and scarred flesh
underneath.