Tribe of the Snow Tiger (Legends of Windemere Book 10) (31 page)

“Why are the chaos elves attacking Stonehelm?” Tigris asks as the trio observe the distant armies. She shifts her pack of spears to her other shoulder and steps closer to the cliff’s edge, her eyes squinting. “It reminds me of the day you died, father. Do you think the gods are revealing a sense of humor?”

“Yes, but I don’t know who the joke will be on,” the platemail-wearing General replies. A burst of lightning draws his attention to the east, but he sees nothing more than smoke. “It seems another battle is going on over there. It could be the attack that this invasion is preventing the tribe from noticing. My suggestion is that we investigate the cliffs behind the castle.”

“Given it’s the chaos elves, those explosions are probably Nyx and Queen Trinity,” Luke says, cringing when he sees a mountaintop crumble. From the sounds and quakes, he is fairly certain that the channelers are not holding back. “We’d only get killed or distract Nyx if we went over there. Let’s head to the real battle and . . . are you going to get involved or is this King Edric’s problem?”

General Godric spits off the ridge and towers over the half-elf who refuses to back away. “I would never abandon my people when they need me. Edric did try to kill me and I don’t entirely trust the man even with his memories altered. Yet I will not let him fight alone when he does so for the same reason I do. The people of Serab don’t understand how important loyalty and honor is in the wilderness. If you betray one of us then you betray us all, but it is always possible to find forgiveness. You can stay here if you want, young man, but my daughter and I are heading into battle.”

“I’m sorry for insulting your honor,” Luke states, his chocolate and gold eyes focusing on something within the mass of bodies. A blur of red catches his attention before three chaos elves are knocked above the rest of their army. “I only wondered if you wanted to remain behind to stay safe. From what you described, Timoran needs both of you to stay alive. As for me, I’m diving into that mess no matter what. My friends are down there and I don’t know what condition they’re in considering Edric’s men probably went after them too.”

“Then it seems the three of us are marching. This will be interesting since most will only see me as the infamous phantom,” Tigris mutters, cocking her head to the side. A strong breeze coming off the battle carries the noise to her ears and she licks her lips while picking out some familiar voices. “I hear Cyrus is the new General and Edric is participating like last time. Udelia is nowhere to be found, but that might only mean she’s being quiet and nobody is aware of her location. A lot of chatter about the Near Gods and the chaos elves are . . . fighting to return home?”

“That’s amazing,” Luke says, his own senses straining from such a distance. “I knew barbarian ears were keen, but the battle has to be at least five miles away.”

“My hearing has always been exceptional even among my people.”

Curious about the chaos elves’ reasons for attacking, General Godric walks to the back of the ridge and strokes his beard while deep in thought. His knowledge of their mysterious enemy is no better than that of most people. They are a race of assassins and thieves that want nothing more than to cause harm to those who live in the light. In his youth, he had joined a sailing crew to see Shayd for himself, which turned out to be a blood-chilling sight. He remembers a storm that illuminated eerie creatures of the land and sea, all of which prevented them from reaching the craggy shore. The atmosphere was dismal and choking even from far away, so he could only imagine what living there would do to an entire race. Why anyone would wish to return to Shayd is beyond him, but the shadowy continent has been home to the chaos elves for their entire existence. It dawns on him that their enemies might be fighting for the same reason as his tribe and there is more to the situation than he realizes.

“They fight to return home, which suggests they have been exiled,” the General says, noticing that Luke is nodding his head. A shriek is heard from where Nyx and Trinity are battling, the pair briefly rocketing into the sky before cutting through the clouds and crashing in the west. “I fear we are being used by someone. Be honest with me, young man, and explain why such a large force has been sent to Stonehelm. The chaos elves have never shown interest in our lands until you and your friends arrived. It is safe to assume that one or all of you are the real targets.”

“It’s all about the champion prophecy,” the forest tracker answers, seeing where the old warrior is going with his thoughts. Piecing together what has happened recently with what he knows about their enemies, Luke anxiously rubs his saber hilts and closes his eyes. “Trinity protected Nyx from Stephen Kernaghan. That has to be it. The Baron must have exiled the chaos elves from Shayd, so she’s trying to eliminate us and regain his favor. If he’s as cruel as his son then he might have kept their children and elders, which is why they’re so determined to return. This is bad. You’re fighting an enemy with nothing left to lose.”

“Imagine if such a fate happened to our tribe,” Tigris whispers, a shiver running along her spine. A whimsical thought comes to her mind and she cannot hold back a chuckle. “I don’t have to imagine it. Such has been my life for years. Always looking at Stonehelm’s gate and never being allowed to cross its threshold.”

“If that is the truth then I pity them, but they can’t be allowed to win,” her father states, returning to the edge of the ridge. Another eruption shakes the range, the rocs rushing away from a pillar of acidic flames. “Nyx may be the one who has to end this. With Queen Trinity defeated, her people will be less confident and hopefully retreat. The rest of us need only hold the wall and keep them at bay until our Near God is victorious. Hopefully that fight ends soon. Given my people’s history and prowess, it will be us who claim victory on the battlefield, but it will be at a great cost.”

Luke cracks his neck and quickly eats an apple, knowing that he will have to transform soon. “Then we should quit talking. I won’t stop you two from killing, but I’m going to try to knock out as many enemies as I can. Dariana might be willing to do the same if I can explain the situation to her. I understand you have to defend your city, but I want to minimize casualties on both sides if the chaos elves truly are victims here.”

“Now you’re just trying to make us feel bad,” Raynar says, slapping the half-elf on the back and knocking him to the ground. He helps the smaller warrior up by the scruff of his neck, noticing that there are already feathers sprouting from beneath Luke’s shirt. “I will try to find Edric and relay our thoughts to him. He may be able to think of a plan that helps both sides. Though I doubt it will be a true negotiation. Personally, I say we give those pointy-eared intruders a great fight and let them die as warriors instead of whimpering exiles.”

Tigris’s eyes widen when she picks out a familiar battle cry, her ears helping her pinpoint where in the crowd her husband is fighting. Not waiting for the others, she jumps onto the side of the mountain and races down the slope. Drawing two of her short spears, she uses them to control her descent and slow her speed enough to avoid injury. She jumps over small boulders and swerves around the larger ones, her durable boots not even scuffing from their horrible treatment. Leaping onto even ground, Tigris sprints toward the battle and disappears among the rocky hills.

Refusing to be left too far behind, Luke transforms into the griffin and hunkers down to act as a mount for the heavy barbarian. The beast grunts and growls at the uncomfortable weight until she rockets into the sky. With the force of their ascent, General Godric leans forward and holds on tight to avoid falling off. Explosions erupt to their right and they see the silhouettes of the channelers pass through a cloud that is only a few yards above their heads. Wanting to get away from the more destructive battle, the griffin goes even higher and punches a hole in the clouds with a powerful blast from her wings. She scans the ground for a few seconds before deciding on the best place to enter the melee, a battling figure drawing her attention more than the others. A roaring screech is the only warning the old warrior gets before the griffin dives toward the valley.

*****

King Edric stomps on a legless chaos elf’s head as the determined enemy tries to slice his ankle. Two more invaders pounce and are batted away by his spear, the pair landing on their backs and swiftly losing their lives to axe-wielding warriors. The formation of the barbarian forces has broken into scattered groups struggling against the crushing wave of cobalt bodies. It is a small advantage that none of the chaos elves recognize the Snow Tiger King, so they do not attempt to overrun him any more than the others. The chaos elves constantly push ahead as a solid mass, their true target the wooden wall that blocks them from the city. Backing away for a breather, Edric slams his elbow into a swordsman’s face and guts them with a tight swing of his spear. He roars at a pack of charging enemies, but they do not pause until Cyrus leaps in their way. The blood-soaked barbarian’s hammer bashes in the heads of three more chaos elves before two of his men charge in to finish off the others.

“We should fall back to the wall,” Cyrus announces while protecting the King. He whistles as loud as he can to call for everyone to pull back. “Not a full retreat, but we really need to regroup. We’ve lost three War Chieftains, so their men are working without a leader. This isn’t the type of battle for us to be sloppy. Our only victory is that the enemy archers on the left have been disposed of. I guess Udelia and Dariana are working their way to the right side of the valley.”

“With the wall at our rear, we can prevent them from flanking us,” Edric states, stabbing under his General’s arm to hit a chaos elf in the chest. He twists his spear to toss the enemy aside, making sure the dying warrior cannot finish the sneak attack. “Drawing them closer will allow our shot putters to get into the action. Do we have any crossbowmen left?”

“The survivors came down to join the melee fighting, but I can order the badly injured to join those on the wall,” Cyrus says, relaxing as more of their men gather around them and create a thick circle. The flood of chaos elves crashes against the formation, but the defenders hold the line. “Every time one of our warriors falls, it means there’s more of these bastards for the rest of us to fend off. I never would have guessed that chaos elves could be the most dangerous army we’ve ever faced. Why are we having so much trouble?”

“Besides their superior numbers and catching us by surprise, we are not fighting at our full strength.”

“Why not?”

“There is still distrust towards me.”

“Don’t the others know this isn’t the time?”

“A barbarian’s honor is easily wounded, but not so easily healed.”

Cyrus growls in frustration and vaults over his own men, landing amid the chaos elves with a wild roar. His hammer slams into bodies and he charges forward in the hopes of igniting the battle lust of his people. A few follow his example, but all of them are on the verge of being overrun before a burly figure crashes through the cobalt-skinned crowd. Cyrus calls for his men to return to the main formation while he runs behind Timoran. Knowing not to get too close to an enraged barbarian, the black-haired warrior handles the enemies that his friend fails to kill. A fireball arches toward the bellowing champion, its caster hidden somewhere within the mass of bodies. Crushing a chaos elf’s head in his fist, Timoran backhands the spell with his great axe and sends it hurtling toward the back of the invading army.

“We need to rejoin the others,” Cyrus says while defending his friend’s flank. He blocks a crude spear with his bracers, twisting his arm to catch the tip and snap the weapon. “I know you’re releasing some pent up anger, but we’ve been cut off. So let’s start hacking our way in the opposite direction.”

“Why are you pulling back?” Timoran asks, his voice guttural and savage. A sword cuts across his arm and he cleaves the attacker in half, the injury having no effect on the champion’s speed and strength. “We only have to hold out for Nyx to defeat their leader. More importantly, Luke has yet to enter the fight and he will be a deciding factor. Order the others to march forward.”

“We’re outnumbered and our morale is still damaged from your trial,” the General replies, lunging forward to knock three warriors away. Seeing an injured chaos elf crawling toward Timoran, he yanks his friend away and kicks the threat into the crowd. “As your battlefield commander, I order you to return to the rest of the army. Do not make me carry you back, Wrath, because I will do it! Fight your rage and think clearly.”

The red-haired champion takes a deep breath as he slices through more enemies, risking a glance over his shoulder at his fellow tribesmen. They are holding their own against the chaos elves, but he can see that they are no longer a cohesive unit. Suffering from distracting thoughts, weapons of allies clang together by accident and the famous prowess of the barbarians fades before Timoran’s eyes. With a heaviness in his heart, he considers that his people’s spirits are still wounded from the Bog Hare Tribe battle to win a confrontation of this scale. Like him, they remember that the last war cost them dearly and left them confused. The difference this time is that Timoran is using the memory to fuel his rage while the others are letting it erode their courage.

“You see it too, right?” Cyrus asks, noticing his companion’s muscles relax. He starts clearing a path to the wall, moving slow enough for Timoran to walk backwards and guard their rear. “This is the first real fight we’ve had since that day. King Edric did whatever he could to avoid such confrontations. Many of us have softened, but I never realized how bad it was until now. This battle requires that we act smart, so drawing the enemy into shot put and crossbow range is our first goal. Unless you know of a way to ignite our brethren’s fire. After all, I can hear you chuckling for some reason. Then again, it’s possible that you’ve finally gone mad at the worst possible moment.”