Dark Wood: Legends of the Guardians (30 page)

The
warmth filled her, like building pressure. She felt swollen with the building
force as it pushed against even her bones. It squeezed her lungs, pushing out
her last breath making her gasp sharply. The tendrils of pressure moving over
the outside of her body honed in on her wounds. Her legs, back, arms,
shoulders, everywhere. They wrapped around each exposed tearing of flesh.

In
the very center of her chest, all the pressure compounded. The effect was to
feel her body burst with power and energy. It was magic. Suddenly she could
breathe again; intaking a deep breath sharply.

Her
hands clinched tightly with the sudden overwhelming shock coursing through her
body. One hand clinched around a much less human hand. Reign. Relief seemed to
overwhelm her. She was safe if she was with him. She knew that to be fact. It
was then she was able to recognize a wonderful feeling. Her body felt stronger.
There was no pain.

Reign
stood Aryaunna to her feet. The light had faded away. It was full dark. A dark
that consumed everything. The stars were not shining that night. Still yet,
Aryaunna had little trouble seeing directly around them. Her eyes were
sensitive still though from the blinding light. Reign kept his hands upon her shoulders
to keep her steady.

“How
do you feel?” he asked low, not in a whisper but as if he were very tired.

It
took her a few moments to really consider his question. Her muscles tensed,
squeezed, flexed, rippled throughout her as she tested her body carefully in
all places. Nothing hurt at all. Finally her neck rolled from side to side. “I
feel strong.” Their gazes met. He seemed to understand.

Allos
stood slowly, looking her over. He seemed concerned, and stunned. “Are you all
right?” he questioned wearily.

After
a pause, she looked over her shoulder to him. “I’m good. Tell me about the
others.” As she said it, she placed her foot on the chest of the last corpse
she’d made. Taking hold of her sword, she pulled it out of him and proceeded to
clean the blade off on her pants as she reached for her other.

“Aryaunna,”
Reign interrupted them. “I have to return to Dia. I’ll see to the others but
then there’s things I must care for.”

“The
Guardians,” she said in question. He nodded her answer. Aryaunna’s voice
lowered, “Reign, what price will be paid?”

“That’s
what I must tend to. You’re safe, and I cannot delay this.” His serpentine neck
coiled down to lower his head near to her. “It looks good on you,” he said more
to himself as he observed the marks that started by her eyes and twisted
downward, still visible through the blood stained skin and dirt. Of course she
had no idea what he was talking about.

The
cool scaled flesh of his cheek pressed against her hair. “There could be no more
incredible Emissary than you. They chose well.” His hot breath blew against her
as he pulled away, blood covered wings spreading. Despite the wound in his
wing, Reign took flight. He lift right from the earth without difficulty. In
the dead of night, without the star light, he quickly disappeared from sight.

Allos
gave her space until then before he approached her. “The Drow have won, though
we lost many. Kolin has captured three soldiers and has a hold of them
personally. Raif I sent to get Elizabeth, but clearly that’s not crucial now.”

“Go
after them. I don’t want Elizabeth to see this.” ‘
This
’ was the mark of
war. A ground turned red with blood, crimson snowdrifts scattered the bleeding
field. Bodies were being drug into piles. They would be burned together. Reign
may even light the pyres. “Go, Allos, we can spare you. The fight is over for
now.” Both knew that only one battle had been won. “She needs to know we’re all
safe.”

They
were walking together in the direction of the wood. The horses had been set
loose, and were all standing by in the wood. Each one waiting for their
master’s call. Many would not hear that call, as they’d belonged to the
soldiers that had fallen.

Cupping
her hands to her mouth, Aryaunna whistled, more bird like than human. A minute
later Sita and Allos’ unnamed gelding came briskly through the forest to meet
them. “Do you want to take Sita?” Aryaunna offered.

“No.
Best she stay with you.” Allos had abandoned the horse just before they’d met
the army. Grabbing the saddle, he lifted himself up and mounted the gelding.
“I’m going to take her to Dia, so we can help the others. Stay safe, Aryaunna.”
Stepping up to them, Aryaunna reached out and took Allos’ hand in hers tightly.
Their fingers wrapped one another’s palms. “You should know Raif had fought to
get to you so that he could watch your back. His brother died early in the
night. You should say something to him later.” She understood. A forced smile
separated them as Allos took to the woods.

Lifting
one foot to the stirrup, Aryaunna was seated swiftly on Sita’s back. Without
hesitating, they took off to the other side of the hill to find the others.

It
was a softer sound than war yet still so distinguishable for it was only a
lesser version. Allos rode harder, urging the gelding to race through the
trees. Raif was there, arrow sticking out of his arm, wielding his sword with
all his fury.

Allos’
body was so tense with adrenaline that everything seemed to slow down as he
took in the whole scene. Raif was battling two armed soldiers. Elizabeth was
brandishing a fallen limb against another soldier.

Sword
in hand, back and ready for the swing, he watched as he rode. With both hands
she swung the branch back and hit him against the face. Limbs lashed at him,
but the branch broke. Reaching out, the soldier grabbed the end of the broken
limb. Elizabeth was so dedicated to defending herself, she didn’t let go. The
soldier pulled her close against him. His long dagger slid into her stomach
like a hot knife through butter.

The
sound that screeched out of Allos’ throat was agony. His body screamed no as
his mouth yelled her name. The sound alerted the soldier. Elizabeth fell to the
ground as he turned to face a new adversary. Her fresh blood coated the blade
he wielded for the geldings throat to bring Allos down.

Allos
had gathered himself up and leapt from the horse’s back, sword ready and dove
it straight into his chest before the dagger could reach him. The man’s eyes
widened in horror as he looked down at the blade sticking out of his torso as
Allos fell atop him.

He
didn’t wait to see him die as Allos rolled up to his feet to fall back beside
Elizabeth. “No, no, no, no,” he begged. Filthy hands gently slid to cup her
neck, angling her chin up at him. It was a too familiar sight. He’d just seen
her sister like this, dying beneath his helpless hands. Hot tears fell from his
eyes, splashing down onto her flushed cheeks.

Hands
clutching to her stomach, she looked up at him with a sad smile on her lips.
Slowly her hand came up, touching to his bristly cheek. His large palm cupped
her hand to his face. “Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me. Not yet, not like
this,” he begged of her.

“I’ll
not be far,” she whispered. “Stay with her. Promise you’ll stay with her,”
Elizabeth demanded in a feeble breath.

“I
do. I swear.” His face tightened, fighting the sobs that threatened to take him
then with the tears running down his face. “I need you.”

“I
love you.” Glistening wet blue eyes smiled up at him as he kissed her fingers,
whispering that he loved her over and over. It was a good way to die. Better
than she’d hoped for, she thought. Her eyes closed.

Wracked
with pain, his whole body shook and sobbed as he held her lifeless body to him
tightly.

Aryaunna
and Zane stood clear on the other side of the hillside, amongst the second army
of fallen soldiers. It was clear from significant amount of torched corpses
throughout the hill of Brisheer that they’d not have been successful without
Reign’s aid. There’d not be much left for the pyres.

Zane
had looked upon her marks without remark. Few were able to find many words
since the fighting had ended. “It is good to see you safe,” he said instead.
With a taught nod, she agreed the same of him as they met one another and began
to walk through the battlefield together. “Wounded?” he asked, knowing he held
plenty of his own injuries, but wanting to know of hers.

“Not
anymore,” she said vaguely. “I feel all right,” she assured after a strange
glance in response. “Tense though. I don’t feel like this is anywhere close to
done. It’s not over, Zane.”

“They
say tragedy comes in threes,” he remarked as he looked out across an ocean of
bodies.

“Whoever
they
are, I don’t think I like them anymore.”

“Aye,”
he agreed with a painful barking laugh.

“You
realize I have to go after the Magistrate.” They stopped and looked to one
another. “If I don’t, another army will come. I imagine that it would be soon.
There’s only one way to end this.”

All
around them, Drow were gathering their wounded, patching up those that could
walk and carrying those that couldn’t. Zane lead her to a small grouping. Two
Drow stood, weapons brandished. They looked especially menacing in their
warriors’ leather, white ghostly paint marking their faces and blood smears
covering them. Aryaunna noticed one in particular had blood covering his mouth.
It was easy to forget their razor sharp teeth were weapons as well.

Between
them, three beaten and bloody men sat on the ground. They’d been stripped of
their armor and weapons, left with only their tunics and trousers to protect
them from the cold.

“They
surrendered?” Aryaunna questioned.

“When
they realized they were the only ones still standing, yes.” Zane informed.

Leaning
close to Zane she kept her voice low, “Trust me.”

“I
already do,” he assured as she turned to face the three on the ground.

Stepping
close to them, she pulled the black sword from her left, still grimy with
blood. She’d barely wiped the blade clean. “This is simple. I only need
one of you to talk. Who will it be?”

One
of them started to ramble incoherently. It earned him an elbow in the face from
his comrade beside him. “Brutus has children, you cowardly piece of shit! If
she means to leave one alive, let it be him.”

Tears
ran white streaks over muddy cheeks and blended with the blood that ran over
his mouth. The one who’d spoken first and thus been hit was slimmer and younger
than the other two. Kneeling in front of him, she balanced on the balls of her
feet as she held the tip of the sword against the ground between her feet.

“You
want me to spare this one?” Aryaunna had met the eyes of the man in the middle,
older, husky, fat in his middle, and nodded to the one she assumed to be
Brutus. “What about you, do you have children?”

He
said nothing, glaring at her. The tip of the blade arced through the air to
point at him. “Two. They’re grown,” he said with an edge of anger.

She
looked to the bleeding one still crying. “But you don’t. Are you even married?”
His head shook as he stared to his feet. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen,”
he whispered, as if even his age was something to be shameful of.

“A
long life ahead of him, no wonder you were quick to try and save yourself.” The
tip of her blade met Brutus’ throat, touching his Adam’s apple. “Is there
another army?” she looked between the other two for her answer.

“Not
in Valhanna,” the older one answered.

The
blade nicked skin. “Where?”

“Parthia,”
the boy answered when a trickle of blood began to run down the man’s neck.

“This
army will fight for Dalton and the Magistrate?”

The
two looked confused. “Dalton is dead,” Brutus answered, careful of the blade
against his throat.

The
blade dropped down. As she stood, she swept it back into its sheath at her
side. “You will all three walk away from here if you tell me what I need to know.”
They looked past her to the Drow. “You have my word, and my word is better than
you will get from your own.

Valhanna’s
king had come home in a wooden box. The acting Regent had already forged a
spoken alliance with Kenan to keep trade among the lands plentiful. When the
Magistrate called for aid, he promised with it territory to strengthen Valhanna
against all possible foes so they wouldn’t appear weak.

It
wouldn’t be enough. There was word an empire, though leagues away, was rumored
to be on the way to conquering everything in its path. Romans. If Kenan or
Valhanna were to stand a chance, they needed a stronger ally. Parthia.

True
to her word, she set the wounded soldiers upon horseback and sent them home.
There was no food or water to send them with, so she sent them with bandages
and told them where to look for the right clay to care for their wounds after
she packed their injuries herself.

“You
should have killed them.” One of the Drow who’d been charged to guard them. The
one with the blood stained mouth.

“She
did just as she should have,” Zane spoke from behind her.

The
pounding of hooves upon the earth pulled her attention away from the angry Drow
to behind her. One horse, one rider. Raif. A slight smile brought to her lips.
It was good to see the face of a friend amongst so much darkness. Dusting
charcoal from her hands she nodded towards Raif as he rode closer.

Upon
a horse, black as coal, with skin so dark as his, he almost disappeared into the
night. Her eyes however could discern shapes easily even within the absence of
light. His height, his hair, even the edge of his armor made it clear that he
was nye foe, but friend.

“Raif,
have Allos and Elizabeth gone to Dia? Is there any sign of the others?”

He
did not answer. Dismounting his steed, he turned to face Aryaunna. Shoulders
terse, brow furrowed and mouth drawn into a hard line, he looked upon her.
Words seemed to escape him. How could he tell her he’d failed? It was then she
saw the very fresh blood leaking from a deep wound in his shoulder.

His
body was soaked with the crimson essence, much of it dried, yet plenty of it
fresh. Most of which belonged to fallen enemies, though some indeed was his
own. Raif’s face crumpled upon looking at her.

“Raif?”
the whisper of his name, a question unanswerable. Something was horribly wrong.
“Sita!” she screamed as she went running, not for her horse but for the woods
whence Raif had come. Sita came running from the west, straight for Aryaunna
who hadn’t slowed in pace. The horse wouldn’t collide but when they’d meet,
Sita would be right in front of her.

Aryaunna
kept running. As Sita grew closer she lunged, grabbing the saddle horn as her
feet kicked air beneath her, hauling herself up. Sita had never run so fast in
that next moment. She tore through the trees. Small limbs that hadn’t the
chance to be brushed aside whipped against the horses chest, leaving small
slices where the bark cut hide.

Silently,
Aryaunna urged her friend faster. Neither knew what they were riding into, but
both knew that it wasn’t battle that Aryaunna faced now. It was worse.

Sita
came to a dead stop in the silent village. No light penetrated from the skies
above, leaving everything dark and haunted. Frightful, glistening eyes gazed
around her. Nothing but quiet. Or was it?

Slow
and careful she slid off the horse’s back to the ground, landing with a soft
thud of her boots. The sound was so soft it could barely be heard amongst the sound
of the wind. Breathing. Hastened, anxious, hitching every few breaths.

Eyes
wide, she took one step at a time, slowly closer to the building. It wasn’t
coming from inside, but behind it. The thought of reaching for her blades never
crossed her mind. Her hands didn’t shake, for they had gone cold and drained of
blood from being held in such tight fists.

Even
in the dark she could see them. The slick sheen of sweat, blood, and mud
outlined Allos’ naked back and curved shoulders. Slowly she walked. Standing
above Allos and her sister, her mouth hung parted. She couldn’t look away.

Startled
by the sudden intruder Allos took up the sword on the ground beside him and
aimed as a deep throttle rattled his throat. Whatever he saw, it was not
Aryaunna.