Lachlei (25 page)

CHAPTER Fifty-Two

After breakfast, Cara led her
Silren
into the
Elesil
great hall and halted. As the doors opened, she stared at the great hall in wonder. The room glistened with white marble floors and rich, exotic wood. She strode across the three silver eight-rayed stars of the
Elesil
inlaid in the floor. Columns of stone rose upward to a vaulted ceiling where clerestories, filled with indigo glass, mimicked the night’s sky above. The nobles’ benches lined both sides of the hall as it led to the firepit and dais. The firepit lay before the thrones where Conlan and his queen, Rani, sat. Above the firepit, a hole opened to the sky.

Cara glanced from side to side. Although the
Elesil
were a brother kindred to the
Silren
, there were marked differences between the two. The
Silren
tended to be taller than the
Elesil
on average and had pure white manes or white manes streaked with silver. The
Elesil
had silver manes, similar to the
Laddel
, and had silver eyes; whereas, the
Silren
had ice-blue or silver eyes. There were other differences, much more subtle, that had more to do with their culture and philosophy. One was a warrior culture; the other, mainly agrarian.

The
Silren
were never as numerous as the
Elesil
, but were greater fighters. The
Elesil
were more content to stay in their lands and obtain what they needed through trade. Both methods had served them well. Until now.

Cara strode forward past the
Elesil
nobles and stood before Conlan and Rani. Rani was typical of most
Elesil
women, tall, beautiful, and fair skinned. She smiled graciously as she looked on Cara. Cara nodded, now realizing how different their worlds were.

“Conlan tells me that you’ve come seeking the
Elesil
aid,” Rani said.

“I have,” Cara said. “I am Cara, Daughter of Silvain.”

“It appears that your father has sent a messenger as well,” Rani said. “He has asked that the
Elesil
join the
Silren
in defeating the
Lochvaur
kindred.”

A low murmur ran through Cara’s warriors. Cara held up her hand for silence. “Messenger
—
what messenger?” she asked.

Conlan’s gaze shifted to a
Silren
warrior who stood among the
Elesil
nobles that Cara had missed. Cara’s eyes narrowed as her gaze fell on the warrior. It looked
Silren
, but was not.
Silren
-like, it had a long white mane and ice-blue eyes, but beneath the armor and the flesh, there was something else. Something sinister. The creature met her gaze coldly. “Your father wanted me to send his regards.”

 “Gods
—
what is that, Conlan?” she demanded, her hand on her hilt as she stepped forward.

“What do you mean?” Conlan said in confusion.

The
Silren
messenger strode forward. “What is wrong, Cara? Or do you go against Silvain’s wishes?”

“I don’t know you,” she said. “I know every warrior in my father’s personal guard, and you’re not any of them.” Cara could feel Haukel’s gauntleted hand grip her arm. She shot him a look.
Be ready,
she mindspoke to her warriors. Haukel released her, and Cara strode forward towards the messenger.

The creature met her gaze. “I joined your father’s guard after you left.”

“Indeed, I would say he made a poor choice.” Cara used her powers to try to sense what was behind the body. She felt a hard, cold shove, and the creature’s eyes glittered menacingly.

“I don’t know what you are, but you’re no
Silren
,” she growled.

“Nonsense, I am everything
Silren
,” the creature said, drawing closer.

The creature made its move, but Cara was faster. She drew her adamantine blade and brought it down on the creature, cleaving through armor, bone, and sinew. Conlan yelled, but the
Silren
warriors already had their swords out to protect Cara as she fought the beast.

“Wait, your majesty,” Haukel said.

The
Silren
messenger shed its body and grew in size. What stood before Cara was an arch-demon. Conlan and Rani withdrew in horror as Cara and the demon circled. The
Elesil
guards halted and stared.

“What should we do?” Conlan asked.

“Have your men ready with crossbows. Do you have adamantine-tipped quarrels?” Haukel asked.

“Yes.” Conlan’s eyes glazed over slightly as he relayed the message via mindspeak to his guards. “We should help her. My men are at the entrances so it can’t escape.”

Haukel shook his head. “I’ll come in if she can’t handle it, but she’s as good as a
Chi’lan
warrior
—
maybe better.”

The demon leapt at Cara. Cara slashed, dodging the sharp talons as they threatened to cut through her clothing. Now she cursed her decision to not wear mail. She had not expected a fight in the king’s great hall.

The demon screamed as she sliced through its talons. Black blood splashed everywhere, and the demon charged, its blood-red eyes glowing. Cara retreated, but the demon pressed her. As the demon brought its claws around she dodged beneath its wounded arm and leapt onto its back. The demon screamed, swatting at her. Cara plunged her sword deep into the demon’s back and rolled off as it thrashed.

“Now!” shouted Cara. The guards let loose a hail of quarrels. The demon staggered and fell. Cara wiped the blood from her face and walked over to the body. She pulled her sword out.

“Are you all right?” Conlan asked as he stood beside her. “What is it?”

Cara nodded. “I’m fine. It’s one of those demons that have control of my kindred, Conlan. If you fight with my father’s kindred, you, too, will be under its control.”

Conlan looked at the demon and shuddered. Even now, the body was beginning to disintegrate. “What do you need, Cara of the
Silren
, to stop the demons?”

“We must stop the
Silren
from destroying the
Lochvaur
before it is too late,” she said. “We fight the death god, himself.”

Conlan looked grim. “We will destroy the demons together,” he said. “Consider the
Elesil
army your allies.”

CHAPTER Fifty-Three

You stupid fool,
Ni’yah remarked. The wolf-god had appeared beside Rhyn’athel as he stood outside of his mortal body.
You took on an arch-demon. Areyn will now know you’re here.

Rhyn’athel glared at his brother and then turned to watch Lachlei kneeling beside his body.
I’m mortally wounded, aren’t I?
Rhyn’athel asked.

Yes, your body is dying,
he replied.
If you want to get the full effect of it, you can reenter it again.

But Rhyn’athel wasn’t listening. Instead, he stared at Lachlei.
What is she doing?
he asked in incredulity. He knew the answer. Lachlei’s hands pressed against the wound, power flowing from her fingers: she was trying to heal him with her first-blood powers.

That wound is beyond most first-bloods,
Ni’yah said, a grim smile on his face.
I’ve only seen Lochvaur and Laddel heal something that grievous.

Rhyn’athel stared.
Could she do it?

Doubtful,
Ni’yah said.

She’d die in the attempt,
the god said in wonder.

Lachlei’s gaze was on Rhyn’s graying face.
Rhyn’athel,
she thought.
Rhyn’athel, if ever there was a great Chi’lan champion, it is Rhyn. He took the blow intended for me.

Very altruistic of you,
Ni’yah remarked sarcastically.
Are you going to let her sacrifice herself?

Rhyn’athel glared again at his brother.
Did I ask your help?
He knelt down beside her as she focused on his wounds. The claw had damaged his heart, torn into a lung, and then ripped through the blood vessels. No man, not even his son, Lochvaur, could withstand such a blow even with a first-blood healer present. And yet, could he make it look like she had healed him?

He felt her power pour into his body, healing what she could, but Lachlei was getting weaker. Areyn would already know Rhyn’athel was there
—
perhaps it didn’t matter how. He focused on her, pouring his own power into her to channel back into his body. Lachlei grew stronger with the surge, and Rhyn’athel could feel the pull of the mortal body again. The color was beginning to return to his face, and he let himself be pulled back into the shell.

*****

Lachlei was near exhaustion when Rhyn’s eyes opened. He gripped Lachlei’s wrist and broke their contact. She would die if she continued. “Rhyn?” she whispered.

“By Rhyn’athel’s sword,” Cahal said, not believing what he had seen. “Lachlei
—
he was dead.”

“Not quite,” she whispered. “Not quite.”

Rhyn took a breath and then another. His miraculous recovery would look suspicious, regardless of how slowly he appeared to heal. “Lachlei, you shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, Rhyn,” she said. “Don’t speak. You must heal.”

“No, Lachlei,” he said. “I’m not what you think I am…”

“I know what you are,” Lachlei replied and met his gaze. Rhyn hesitated.
You’re a Guardian, aren’t you?
she asked.
The gods have sent you.

Only one god,
Rhyn thought.
Perhaps it was time to reveal who he really was…

Cahal touched her shoulder. “Lachlei, the watchers tell us Areyn’s army is on the move. We’re likely to get more of those demons…”

“Prepare for the march,” she said. “Let me know when we’re ready.”

“Don’t wait,” Rhyn said, his voice hoarse. He still had the metallic taste of blood in his mouth and felt weak, but the link between the mortal body and himself had not been quite severed. “Lachlei, you must go now…”

“Rhyn, you’re in no condition to travel,” she said.

And who would protect Lachlei?
Ni’yah added in his mind.

Rhyn fought to sit up. Despite his mortal disguise, he had to heal himself quickly and give Lachlei enough power to protect herself. With each second, Rhyn’athel allowed himself to regenerate. Areyn would probably laugh if he saw the warrior god and his champion, injured and unable to continue.

“No, Rhyn,” Lachlei said and tried to push him back down. Her strength was returning. “You’ve been mortally wounded.”

 “No, Lachlei,” he replied. “You don’t understand, do you? I can heal. Areyn’s demons want you. If they capture you, Areyn will have you.”

A cold wind blew between them, causing her to shudder.

“We must leave now,” he said, his voice growing stronger.

Indecision flickered in her eyes.

“Have I ever led you astray?” he asked.

She met his steely gaze. Something within those silver eyes told her he was serious. She turned to Cahal. “We’re going.” She looked at Rhyn. “Can you stand?”

“I think so,” Rhyn said, scrambling to get his knees under him. The last surge of power healed him, and he drew
Teiwaz
. The Sword of Power glimmered in response.

“Demons!” They heard the watch cry out. Warriors were already scrambling to arm themselves and turning to meet the threat. Lachlei was fastening the arming points of her quilted jack.

“Don’t bother!” Rhyn snapped. “Get on my horse!”

Lachlei turned to see Rhyn’s stallion standing nearby. She shrugged the mail hauberk over her shoulders and fastened her swordbelt. “What of my own horse?”

Screams echoed from the army’s flank. A dark wave like smoke rolled over the
Chi’lan
and
Laddel
warriors as Areyn’s army of dead warriors charged the flanks. Demons shrieked overhead and plummeted towards the warriors. A demon
—
a heath-stalker
—
flew at them, and Rhyn slashed at its claws. The demon shrieked and hovered just out of sword reach. The warrior god cursed Areyn and swung
Teiwaz
. The demon chattered and flapped its giant wings to stay away from the god’s weapon.

“I can’t protect you if you’re away from me,” Rhyn shouted.

Lachlei’s expression darkened. “I am Rhyn’athel’s champion,” she said. “I should be leading my people.” She leapt on her own warhorse and drew
Fyren
. “To me! To me!” she shouted.

CHAPTER Fifty-Four

Fialan reined his horse and stared. Despite the overwhelming force that gripped him, he saw Lachlei and halted.

“By Rhyn’athel’s sword!” he exclaimed. “That’s Lachlei!”

Lochvaur reined his horse beside him. “So, it is,” he said. His gaze fell on the warrior who stood beside her

Father…

Fialan glanced at the godling, overhearing Lochvaur’s unguarded thoughts.
Rhyn’athel?
he wondered. Fialan followed Lochvaur’s gaze to a warrior who fought a heath-stalker. He caught his breath and glanced at Lochvaur
—
he looked like Lochvaur
—
or Lochvaur looked like him.

Yet, even at this distance, Fialan could see a difference. The warrior who stood among the
Chi’lan
was powerful
—
more powerful than any creature Fialan had seen before. Light glowed like an aura around him, and he swung a Sword of Power that glowed bright with each cut.

This is the warrior god.

Fialan felt the pull of Areyn’s magic. He would soon be unable to resist and have to fight. He turned to Lochvaur, whose face was grim. “That is your father,” he whispered.

“I know,” said Lochvaur heavily. “And these are my people. I will have to fight both.” He drew his sword
—
a Sword of Power, Fialan noted
—
and closed his eyes. “May Rhyn’athel forgive us.” He clapped his legs against the horse and charged forward, swinging the great blade.

Fialan resisted the pull.
How could he fight against his own army? His wife?
Pain shot through him, and even as he resisted, Fialan found himself, sword in hand, charging into the
Lochvaur
and
Laddel
ranks.

*****

A demon saw Lachlei as she rallied her troops. It dove towards her as she rode forward. Rhyn charged, but they were already too far away. Lachlei swung
Fyren
, slicing into the demon. The heath-stalker shrieked in agony as she cut into the demon’s wing and sent it plummeting to the ground. Lachlei turned her warhorse and charged the demon, leaping off her horse and plunging
Fyren
into the demon up to her sword’s hilt. She turned, her eyes glowing fiercely bright.

The warriors rallied. Swords drawn, they charged Areyn’s troops. Then, suddenly, the fighting broke off and the
Chi’lan
stared in dismay at their adversaries. Lachlei ran forward,
Fyren
in hand.

“Charge! Charge!” she shouted and then stared. “
Chi’lan
? What manner of devilry is this?” She gazed at the warriors who attacked
—
they were
Chi’lan
; not
Silren
,
Eltar
, or demons. Areyn’s warriors forced Lachlei’s
Chi’lan
into a retreat, fighting as they withdrew.

Rhyn leapt on his own horse and rode to her. “Lachlei!” he shouted grasping her arm and hauling her up to his saddle.

“What is happening, Rhyn?” she gasped as he carried her away.

 “Areyn uses the dead against us,” he said grimly. “He uses my own
Chi’lan
in this fight.”

“Your own?” she began.

“Our own,” Rhyn said hastily. Another heath-stalker swooped down on them, and Rhyn killed it with a single cut from
Teiwaz
. “Areyn has brought a hundred thousand
Braesan
—
Undead.”

“A hundred thousand?” Lachlei gasped. “Our army can’t withstand that. Sound the retreat.”

Retreat! Retreat!
she heard Rhyn mindspeak across the battlefield. He glanced at her. “Rally point?”

“The knoll,” she said and heard him relay the message in mindspeak to the troops.

Suddenly, the troops parted. Two warriors came riding towards Rhyn and Lachlei. Lachlei gasped as she saw a warrior that looked exactly like Rhyn riding towards them
—
and another, more familiar face.

“Fialan!” she gasped.
What is happening Rhyn? Why does that warrior look like you?

The warrior god made no response. Instead, Rhyn’athel turned his horse around and met his son’s gaze as both Fialan and Lochvaur reined their steeds. Their faces twisted in pain as they fought Areyn’s power over them.

I can’t control it, father,
Lochvaur said.
Areyn is just too strong.

Fialan drew his sword.
Lachlei, beloved,
he mindspoke. They started forward.

Rhyn’athel closed his eyes.
Forgive me, my son,
he whispered.
I will free you.
Flame shot between him and the
Braesan
. Their horses reared and turned away. Lochvaur and Fialan rode past Rhyn’athel and Lachlei.

The warrior god turned his horse and headed towards the knoll.

*****

Fialan glanced at Lochvaur as they rode on. “That was Lachlei!” he shouted to the godling.

“I know,” said Lochvaur.

“Was that…?”

Lochvaur’s glance silenced Fialan.

“What happened? We should have attacked,” Fialan said.

Rhyn’athel has spared us the pain of fighting him,
Lochvaur said in mindspeak.

Then, we are free?

Lochvaur shook his head.
Rhyn’athel has not chosen to free us yet.

Fialan closed his eyes. “Lachlei,” he whispered as he felt Areyn’s power grip him again. He charged at the fleeing army, cutting through warriors as they retreated.

How could the warrior god betray him so? How could Rhyn’athel betray his own son?

*****

Chi’lan
and
Laddel
archers defended the rally point. As Rhyn rode towards his army, demons and Areyn’s warriors chased him. On arriving, the archers let loose their arrow storm, cutting down all. Rhyn sent a wave of fire through the
Braesan
ranks.

“Rhyn! We must retreat!” Cahal shouted as they rode up.

Rhyn turned to Cahal. “Get her a horse
—
I’ll try to hold them off!”

Lachlei stared. “What are you saying?”

“Get off now!” Rhyn ordered. He grasped her around the middle, and with one arm slid her off his warhorse.

Cahal offered Lachlei a hand up. “Come on, Lachlei!”

Lachlei ignored Cahal and turned to Rhyn. “What are you doing?”

“Go!” Rhyn demanded. “Get the army out of here!” He spurred his horse forward.

“Come on, Lachlei
—
take my hand,” Cahal said as she stood watching Rhyn leave.

Reluctantly, Lachlei grasped Cahal’s hand and swung behind the
Chi’lan
. Cahal turned his horse and urged it away from the charging
Braesan
. “Retreat! Retreat!” Cahal shouted as they fled the Undead.

Rhyn’athel stared ahead at the oncoming warriors. He could obliterate Areyn’s army, but with the energy Areyn would devour with that huge amount of death, the death god could regenerate them just as fast. Rhyn’athel turned and saw the demons coming in. They would lose the army to Areyn if he didn’t do something now.

Cold anger welled inside him. Rhyn’athel was tired of the charade and tired of Areyn. He reined his horse and stood alone on the small hillock to face the approaching Undead. The warrior god drew
Teiwaz
and focused on his powers. With a single thought, a wall of flame rose from the ground and raced towards Areyn Sehduk’s army. He closed his eyes as he heard the anguished screams of the
Braesan
and felt them pulled back to
Tarentor
. The wall of fire leapt up, consuming the demons as they flew towards him. When Rhyn’athel opened his eyes again, he saw Ni’yah standing beside him.

“You realize what you just did,” the wolf-god said, his brass eyes meeting Rhyn’athel’s gaze.

“I bought us enough time to return to Caer Lochvaren,” Rhyn’athel replied brusquely. He turned away. “Where is Lachlei?”

“You destroyed the
Braesan
and the demons
—
Areyn will know now that you are here.”

Rhyn’athel turned to meet the wolf-god’s gaze. Despite the mortal body, he looked like an avenging god. “You wanted me in this war, brother. Now you have me. Be careful what you wish for.”