Lachlei (30 page)

CHAPTER Sixty-Four

The
Elesil
and
Silren
army rode down the hill into the battle. Kieran turned to fight the next
Braesan
, but a curious thing happened. The
Braesan
began to retreat. The
Lochvaur
soldiers stared in puzzlement as the Undead withdrew.

“What is this? A trap?” Kieran said aloud. The other
Lochvaur
look no less puzzled. Some began pursuing the fleeing
Braesan
; others stood as Kieran did, confused by the Undead’s actions. The
Braesan
had the advantage
—
what were they doing?

“Rhyn’athel! Rhyn’athel!” A
Silren
woman led a charge right into the
Braesan
lines, swinging her broadsword.

“They’re with us!” Kieran exclaimed. “To me! To me! Warriors of Rhyn’athel!”

The
Lochvaur
soldiers took up the cry. “Rhyn’athel! Rhyn’athel!” They charged the
Braesan
. Caught between two armies, the
Braesan
fell back. Then, as suddenly as the
Braesan
appeared, they disappeared.

“Gods! What manner of devilry is this?” Mirin spoke. She was one of the
Lochvaur
soldiers standing beside Kieran.

“Perhaps none,” Kieran said as he watched the mist disappear and the
Elesil
ranks shrink in number. “This is first-blood doing, or I’m not a
Chi’lan
. I have heard of such illusions, but I have never seen them.” He stared at the woman who rode towards him. She was a warrior among warriors, even though her white hair and blue eyes distinguished her as
Silren
. A warrior bearing an
Elesil
surcoat rode beside her. His bearing suggested first-blood or at least nobility.

“Who is she?” Mirin whispered.

Kieran shook his head. “She’s
Chi’lan
.”

“She can’t be, she’s
Silren
,” the soldier replied.

Kieran shook his head. “
Silren
or not, she’s
Chi’lan
,” he said. “I’d bet my life on that
—
she bears the look of one who serves Rhyn’athel.”

“Who’s in charge?” the woman called as she rode forward. The
Elesil
rode beside her.

“I am,” Kieran said. She turned her ice-blue eyes on him, and he repressed a shudder. She was indeed
Chi’lan
. Only Lachlei held more power in her gaze.

 “The
Lochvaur
owe you a debit of gratitude,” he said. “I am Kieran,
Chi’lan
warrior and member of the
Lochvaur
High Council.”

“I am Cara, daughter of Silvain.” Cara turned to the Elesil warrior. “This is Conlan, king of the
Elesil
. We were told you needed help.”

 “That we did. If you hadn’t arrived, we would’ve been destroyed.”

Cara gazed over the soldiers. “Where’s your queen? Where are the
Chi’lan
?”

 “I don’t know. We were led this way by a shapeshifter posing as Lachlei,” Kieran said. “She led us into this trap.”

Cara glanced at Conlan. Alarm glowed in the
Elesil
king’s eyes. “What about Caer Lochvaren?”

Kieran’s eyes widened as he realized the implications. “By Rhyn’athel’s sword!”

“Gather what warriors you can
—
we have a hard ride ahead,” Cara said. “Hopefully, we’re not too late.”

*****

Rhyn reined his horse and stared at the
Braesan
materializing before the army. The
Laddel
and
Chi’lan
army were caught between the Areyn’s army of living and his army of
Braesan
. The
Chi’lan
and
Laddel
were thrown into confusion. “How?” he roared. “Damn him! Damn Areyn and his demon spawn!”

“It’s a trap!” Lachlei shouted.

“Rhyn’athel! Rhyn’athel!” Cahal shouted. “Charge!” The
Chi’lan
commander broke from the other commanders with sword brandished, leading a charge directly at the
Braesan
. The
Braesan
attacked and forced them into a retreat.

Ni’yah reined his horse beside his brother, his brass eyes wide in shock. “How could we have not seen this?”

Rhyn’athel made no reply. For the first time, he felt completely helpless against Areyn. He focused his powers on the
Braesan
army, but this time he was met with a strong rebuff. He turned his powers on the
Silren
and
Eltar
, and still nothing.

“Brother!” shouted Ni’yah.

Rhyn’athel shook his head.

Lachlei rode up,
Fyren
drawn and already bloody. “Do something!”

“I’m trying!” Rhyn’athel turned to Ni’yah. “We must break his link to
Tarentor
, it’s the only way.”

Lachlei glanced at them. “While you argue, my army is getting slaughtered.” She brandished
Fyren
. “To me! To me!” she shouted, clapping her legs against the warhorse’s sides.

“What are you doing?” Rhyn demanded.

“I’m leading us out of here!” she shouted and took off.

“No! Lachlei! Wait!” Rhyn shouted, but she was already out of earshot. The
Braesan
were driving her army towards the gates of Caer Lochvaren where the
Silren
and
Eltar
waited. Rhyn knew that she would try to turn the army eastward to evade the trap. It was risky and required greater speed.

Ni’yah grasped Rhyn’athel’s arm. “Leave her! If we have a chance to stop them, it’s now. Both our powers combined.”

Rhyn’athel nodded and drew
Teiwaz
. Ni’yah drew his own sword,
Dagaz
and crossed it against the warrior god’s own blade. Flames leapt from the two
Athel’cen
swords and raced towards the
Braesan
.

*****

“Lachlei!” Cahal shouted as Lachlei rode to the front lines. Cahal was still on his warhorse, but she could see both he and his horse were injured.

“Cahal!” Lachlei said. “Retreat! East!”

“East?” Cahal repeated. He paused. “Lachlei, look! By the gods of light
—
what is that?” She followed his line of sight to the hill she had left.

Lachlei stared as well. Two glowing warriors sat on their steeds with swords crossed, flames racing towards the
Braesan
as they advanced. But the flames halted before the Undead troops. They did not touch the enemy lines, but the enemy could not advance.

A scream came from above. Lachlei looked up to see demons appear overhead. One flew right for her. Sheer chaos followed. Her warhorse reared and threw her to the ground. She rolled and within moments, the demon was on top of her. Lachlei thrust
Fyren
upward as the arch-demon slashed down on her. A poisonous talon slashed through her armor and grazed her skin. She slid from the demon’s grasp and turned to face it.

“Behind you!” shouted Cahal, but it was too late.

A blow from behind hit her helm and she fell to her knees stunned. The poison began to burn in her veins. She fell unconscious and knew no more.

*****

“Lachlei!” Rhyn’athel saw the demons swoop towards her. He broke contact with Ni’yah’s sword and spurred his horse forward.

“Rhyn’athel! What are you doing?” Ni’yah shouted.

Rhyn’athel turned back. For a moment, he looked as if he would answer. Instead, he rode through the enemy to reach Lachlei. He arrived to see the demon grasp her and disappear.

“NO!”

The rage the warrior god felt was indescribable. He unleashed his power, slamming it against Areyn’s shields, but to little avail. Rhyn’athel was weakening
—
he could feel it with each death
—
his power was slipping from him and slowly feeding Areyn Sehduk.

“What are you doing?” Ni’yah said, riding now beside him. “She’s gone.”

“No, she’s not!” Rhyn’athel said, his eyes glowing.

“Even if she isn’t, we’re being destroyed.”

“Lead the army away,” Rhyn’athel said. “I must find her.”

“Don’t be a fool! I can’t stand up to Areyn!” Ni’yah snapped.

“You’ll have to until I return.” Suddenly, he was gone, and the entire
Eleion
army stood twenty miles away on Darkling Plain. The
Braesan
, the demons, the
Eltar
, and the
Silren
were gone. Instead, the
Chi’lan
and the
Laddel
were now looking at the
Elesil
and
Lochvaur
army.

“By Rhyn’athel’s mane!” Cahal said, pulling his helm off and staring the two armies. He turned to Telek. “Rhyn did this, didn’t he?”

Telek smiled grimly. “Yes, he did. He’s gone after Lachlei. Gather what’s left of our army. Rhyn has given us some time, but not much.”

CHAPTER Sixty-Five

Lachlei awoke in chains. A sharp pain knifed through her shoulder as she moved, bringing her back to consciousness. She groaned. Her stomach was queasy, and she had a throbbing headache. Her last memory was fighting one of the demons when she was clubbed from behind. Now she lay in the mud, covered with blood and dirt. She was in an encampment with tents around her.
Eleion
warriors with dark manes and dark eyes strode past her, a few glancing down and smirking as they saw her pull against the chain.

Without a distinguishing landmark, she had no idea where she was, except in a forest. She could be near the Great Plains of
Elesilren
or further away. She knew that she was in the enemy’s camp, but saw neither
Braesan
nor
Silren
. These
Eltar
, she suspected, were reinforcements.

She moved and became violently ill, vomiting. The pain in her shoulder stabbed through her.
Poison,
she thought.
The demon used poison. But why did it keep her alive?

“So, this is the great Lachlei,” spoke a sardonic voice.

Lachlei tried to focus on the wound in her shoulder, but found she could not heal it. She was either too weak or the demon poison counteracted her magic. Instead, she looked up, wiping her eyes clear of the mud with her good hand. The manacle pulled against her and she frowned. Whatever the reason, her captors were keeping her movements limited.

An
Eltar
woman strode into view, flanked by two guards. She was tall with dark, plaited hair, and wore black mail. Her arms were crossed, and she scowled at Lachlei as the
Chi’lan
queen lay there. Lachlei stared back at her.

“What are you staring at?” the
Eltar
demanded.

“I didn’t know the death god used children,” Lachlei said. “How old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?”

The woman’s face twisted in anger. She kicked Lachlei in the stomach. “Get up, bitch! My lord will be coming for you.”

The kick sent Lachlei into another round of retching. The
Eltar
smiled, enjoying Lachlei’s predicament. When Lachlei stopped heaving, she looked up at the woman. “Who are you? Who is your lord?”

“I am Imdyr, high priestess and consort of Areyn Sehduk,” she said. “Areyn is my lord; he will soon be your lord.”

Lachlei said nothing. The girl was mad; that much she was sure of. Imdyr strode up to Lachlei and grasped her by the hair. “I don’t see what’s so special about you,” Imdyr sneered. “A great
Chi’lan
warrior laid low by demon poison.”

Lachlei brought her hand up in a palm-heel strike, hitting Imdyr hard under the chin and sending her sprawling backwards. Her guards caught her, and one moved towards Lachlei, sword drawn. Lachlei backed against the tree, but she had nowhere to go.

“Wait, Tarel!” Imdyr barked out. Tarel halted and glanced at Imdyr. “Areyn wants her alive.”

“Pity,” Tarel remarked. His eyes raked over Lachlei and he grinned. “Perhaps we can amuse ourselves in other ways.”

“Just try,” Lachlei growled, her silver eyes locked on the
Eltar
. “You’ll find yourself missing vital parts.”

The
Eltar
laughed. “I like a challenge,” he said, gripping her chin and pressing the blade against her neck.

Lachlei could feel his hot breath against her face. She wondered how much damage they would inflict on her if she broke his neck now.

“Enough, Tarel!” Imdyr snapped. “I don’t think Areyn would appreciate having his prize spoiled.”

“Pity,” Tarel remarked. “I could show you what a real man is like.”

“How would you know? Or have you experienced one?”

Tarel brought his arm back to strike. Lachlei’s knee impacted his groin and sent him sprawling. The other guard leapt forward, but Imdyr gripped his arm. “Don’t,” she said, her dark eyes glittering menacingly. “Areyn will have his fun with her soon enough.” She turned to Lachlei. “In the meantime, bitch, you’d better behave yourself. I can’t hold my men off you if you continue to taunt them.” She turned to the guard again. “Pick him up!” she snarled as she glanced at Tarel. As the other guard helped Tarel up, the
Eltar
gave her a murderous glance before stumbling away.

*****

Rhyn’athel rode through the night. At first, he had thought he could track the demon without following the trail, but he soon realized that Areyn was blocking his powers. The Wyrd was now a confusing tangle of threads, many branching out along the World Tree. He gazed on the threads as he rode, but with so many
Athel’cen
in one place, there was no clear path. Without a clear trail, Rhyn’athel was forced to follow the thread the demon laid across the Wyrd.

Lachlei.
His thoughts were on her and nothing else. The loss of the army, the
Braesan
, and even
Elren
, itself, were inconsequential. Areyn knew the new Wyrd prophecy, and he would do everything within his power to keep Lachlei from the warrior god. Even if it meant killing her. Areyn would destroy her rather than to have the balance decided.

Rhyn’athel admonished himself for failing to stay beside Lachlei. He had stayed away in deference to her feelings, but had left her unguarded. Even if he could not have her, Rhyn’athel could not bear seeing her at the mercy of the death god. The anger now burned hot inside him, and he used all his powers to search for her.

Nothing. He slowed his warhorse as he gazed into the night’s sky. Something was blocking his ability to sense where she was. Areyn should not have been able to do it. Something else. Something of a very old line. Could Areyn have found a Wyrd-blood to serve him?

Wyrd-blood. That would explain Rhyn’athel’s apparent lack of power. If Areyn had a Wyrd-blood serving him, he would be able to hide much. Rhyn’athel hoped he’d be able to find Lachlei in time before Areyn…

Rhyn’athel forced the thought from his mind. He had never been jealous, but the thought of Areyn alone with Lachlei angered him. The anger drove him forward, and he urged his horse faster.

If he could only rescue her in time…