Kin of Kings (The Kin of Kings Book 1) (33 page)

BOOK: Kin of Kings (The Kin of Kings Book 1)
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“I will allow you and your men to enter,” Wilfre said with shocking quickness. “But we don’t know each other well enough yet for me to order the discard of everyone’s weapons. You’ll have an insurmountable advantage once you’re within these walls, and that’s what I can allow—free entrance. No one here wants to fight if it can be avoided. Once all of your men are inside, we will
all
drop our weapons at the same time, shake hands, and put this behind us.”

Basen could no longer tell if this was a ruse or what Wilfre really wanted. He seemed like a scared man with desperate hope in his voice.

Abith wore a victorious smile. “Order everyone off the wall, open the gate, and we will enter peacefully.”

Wilfre cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted in each direction. “Off the wall, off the wall. Open the gate.”

No one moved. Perhaps Wilfre was wrong and they did want to fight. Basen knew he did, for he didn’t trust anyone speaking for Tauwin, even the same master mage who’d been his mentor for years. He could feel Cleve’s eagerness to shoot his bow by the way he held it in a firm grip. It was likely others felt the same.

“Get off the wall, now!” Wilfre yelled again. “And open the gate!”

A collective grumble of complaint rumbled through the cold night air as students and instructors began walking down the ramps. Basen followed Cleve as two men unlatched the bolts of the gate and walked the creaking steel outward to open it.

“Don’t let them in!” Alabell shouted, but she was too far away to be heard by most. She limped toward them in a hurry, shouting again, “Stop! They’re going to kill us all!”

But she wasn’t privy to the plan. Though, Basen couldn’t be sure it would be followed now.

Halfway down the ramp, everyone’s pace changed from a walk to a run as Terren waved his arm to direct them. “Quickly now,” he said, “make room for everyone to get down, but stay near the ramp.”

Basen could see the same happening on the other ramps along the two-mile-long wall.

Wilfre was the only man to remain atop it. “Everyone has descended, and the gate is open. You and your men may enter.”

There was a sharp whistle from outside the wall. The sound of marching followed. There wasn’t much time.

“Now, back up there!” Terren ordered. “Stay low and do not be seen!”

The students ran back up the ramps, ducking as they approached the top. Basen returned to his same spot beside Cleve, but now they lay flat on their stomachs and could only hear the approaching army.

Nearly face to face with Cleve, Basen could see nothing else. He listened as everyone hurried to get in place, most of them mages. He smiled. They would fight.

“Tell me you know how to use that thing on your wrist,” Cleve prodded.

“Not a clue.”

Basen wondered if Abith approached with his men or if he would stay back until all had entered. Basen had never known him to be particularly cautious during their lessons, part of the reason why Penny’s anger had been such a surprise.

She would take away the akorell stone in an instant if she saw it.

The marching boots came closer. Basen itched to hear the order he knew was coming. He and Cleve brought in their hands and knees to get ready to push themselves up. Basen turned his head to look at Wilfre.

The liaison slowly extended his arm behind him, making a fist.

“Now,” Terren commanded.

Basen jumped to his feet in unison with a thousand mages and hundreds of archers. It was a shock to see his enemies so close, the front of their army just reaching the gate. A few looked back at him and realized what was about to happen as Basen gathered bastial energy.

“Ambush!” they shouted to each other.

After drawing energy from the air, Basen pulled out the extra energy from his akorell stone and forced it together with his cluster. It felt like ripping a rock from the earth that was then too heavy to hold. Fortunately, he already had the sartious energy from his wand mixing into the burning bastial energy.

Heat blasted the entire front of his body, scorching his hand. He fell backward in reflex as he closed his eyes and let the momentum of the BE take the fireball into the ground below. Screams rang out as an explosion brightened the night like a flash of lightning.

Basen scrambled back to his feet in time to see the aftermath—swirling pillars of fire intertwined as they rose toward the sky, a crater in the dirt ten feet in diameter, and twenty men strewn in every direction, their limbs on fire.

Countless more fireballs showered down on the long, snaking line of Tauwin’s men. Arrows rained down on those farther out.

Basen joined his fellow mages in casting wave after wave of fireballs. Beside him, Cleve drew two arrows for every breath and shot them too fast for Basen to keep track.

The army fled in every direction. Some even crossed through the gate and tried to fight off the hordes of warriors led by Terren. Basen watched as their bodies somersaulted back out.

After just a few moments, there were no more men in range for Basen to shoot. They’d all run, leaving a thousand bodies, many still burning.

Cleve shot arrow after arrow, amazing Basen with his impeccable aim as each one found flesh fifty yards out, sixty, seventy, then even a hundred as Cleve continued to shoot with grunts of strain. Soon all of the mages stopped, leaving just a few archers like Cleve to keep going.

But there was one man who did not flee. He walked toward them screaming something, yet he was too far away to hear.

Terren came to stand behind Cleve and Basen, putting his hand on Cleve’s shoulder to stop him.

“It’s Abith,” Cleve argued.

“I realize that. Wait until he gets closer.”

Cleve smiled and took his hand off his string.

Terren turned and gave the order to cease firing, his deep voice as loud as thunder in Basen’s ear. Quiet came over them, save the sizzling bodies and Abith’s distant screams that made him sound like a madman. Basen could only catch one word for every ten yelled at them.

“Fools…death…shit…mothers…idiots.” Abith had his wand in one hand, his sword in the other, waving both manically as he remained the only one walking toward them.

“Wilfre,” Terren called, and the liaison down below ran to get closer. “Take Warrior Sneary and those on the ground to the northern wall. I wouldn’t expect an attack, but ready the horns just in case. I’ll meet you there when I can.”

“All right.”

Finally Abith came close enough to be understood. Amazingly, he was laughing. “So Terren Polken is still alive? This must’ve been your plan the whole time!”

Terren gave no reply.

“Very cunning, however you weren’t thinking ahead. Unlike the last war, there is no one to help the Academy now. You are alone. Kerr’s army is dead. The cities belong to Tauwin. The Slugari have been scared off. Communication with Tenred is impossible. You are surrounded. Soon enough, you’ll face the full force of Tauwin’s army, and I will lead the charge. I’ve killed hundreds of you Kyrro bastards in the last war, but that will be nothing compared to this. You’ve sealed the fates of all your students and instructors, Terren. Celebrate this victory, because—”

“All right, Cleve,” Terren said, ignoring Abith. “Now you can shoot him.”

As Abith continued to yell manically, Cleve drew an arrow. “Good. I can’t stand his voice any longer.”

He shot his arrow at unimaginable speed, Basen instantly losing it in the darkness. Abith flicked his wand and a cube of dense sartious energy formed in front of him. The arrow only made it halfway through, locking into place as if frozen by ice.

Abith spat as he let the energy disperse, the arrow falling harmlessly to the ground. More archers shot, but Abith simply re-gathered the floating sartious energy around him into another cube. A couple arrows struck it but had no hope of reaching flesh.

Abith finally retreated, though there was no hurry in his step as he walked with a sartious wall shielding his back.

Basen had no idea his instructor was a master with sartious energy as well as bastial. It made him fearful to find out what else Abith had kept from him.

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

 

Basen’s adrenaline subsided soon after the short battle. His hand was burned worse than before, at Worender Training Center. His knuckles continued to feel as if they were on fire.

“You nearly got us killed,” Cleve complained. “It didn’t look as if you had control of that fireball.”

“What else did it look like? I didn’t get a chance to see much.”

“Because you flinched even before it fully formed, you bastard. I thought you were going to shoot it into the parapets.”

“But I didn’t.”

“This time.” Cleve showed no amusement. “You’d better learn how to control your energy before you try that again.”

Alex came between them and put his arms around their shoulders. “Effie and I estimated twenty kills counting her fireballs and my arrows. What about you two?”

“Basen had about twenty with his first damn spell,” Cleve muttered.

“That fireball was
yours
?”

Realizing the attention he was about to get, Basen decided to pocket the bracelet. It was only warm to the touch now, easy to stow. He gestured at it quickly before removing it from sight. “Thanks to an akorell stone. Keep it secret for now.”

“Easy when I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Alex grabbed Basen’s arm. “Your hand!”

The skin over his knuckles looked like overcooked meat. “If you think it looks bad, imagine how it feels.”

“You need treatment.”

“And gloves next time,” Cleve added.

“Two good ideas,” Basen agreed.

 

 

*****

 

 

Basen was given the option of taking a caregelow potion and waking up with his hand healed the next morning. But before he could accept, Alabell and the other healer in the medical building strongly recommended a combination of a lotion and another healing potion, which wouldn’t alter his mind so drastically.

“How does caregelow affect my mind?” he asked.

“It makes you act like a fool,” Alabell answered. “Your roommate will have to stay awake to watch you until you fall asleep so you don’t hurt yourself or anyone else. It could take hours.” She stopped and blinked a few times. “Did Terren give you a new roommate yet?”

Sanya put her hands on her hips. “He already chose his own.” She’d come with them to the medical building. Alabell would go home with her to fill the room Annah had vacated.

“Is it someone I might know?” Alabell asked.

“No, she’s a first-year—oh!” Sanya interrupted herself. “Yes, you would know her if you saw her being questioned at the castle. Annah Varra.”

“Yes. How did she come to live with you, Basen?”

He hadn’t seen Annah since she’d dropped Peter with a spell of psyche. It was going to feel strange to go home and find her in Nick’s room.

“Because apparently I’m the only one who can trust her.” Basen went on to explain their brief encounters and her request to live with him. “I wouldn’t want to ask her to stay awake and watch me, though,” he concluded, then called for the healer and gave his answer. His hand would be wrapped and would take days to heal. That was still impressive. A burn like that in Tenred would result in weeks of treatment and a scar.

“I’ll take the caregelow for my ankle,” Alabell told the healer.

“After you adamantly encouraged me not to,” Basen noted.

“I need to walk as soon as possible, and Sanya will watch over me, won’t you?”

“Did you want me to encourage you when you began to take off your clothes, or…”

“Discourage.”

“What about when you try to dance? Should I sing and dance with you, or…”

“Don’t let me leave the bed!”

“All right. I’ll tie you to the bed.”

Alabell turned the other way to face the healer. “I changed my mind about the caregelow.”

“Fine,” Sanya said. “No more teasing.”

When the healer had done everything she could for them, Basen knelt down so Alabell could get onto his back. They headed to their neighboring campus houses.

Thoughts of war returned to mind, dampening Basen’s mood that had just begun to lighten. Judging by Alabell and Sanya’s silence, they must’ve shared his gloom.

Eventually Alabell began to sniffle, frequently taking her hand from Basen’s collar to wipe her tears. He wished he knew what to tell her, but no words could bring back the dead.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I can feel both of you wanting to say something. You don’t need to.”

“You can talk about it,” Basen encouraged.

“I just can’t stop thinking about Tauwin killing them. It’s hard to believe so much damage can come from a single person.”

Sanya lifted a finger to get their attention. “There’s no single force more detrimental than a man with ultimate power and no empathy.”

The following silence let Basen reflect on her words for a moment. “You’re not wrong, but let’s not forget about everyone following Tauwin’s volition. They’re just as much to blame as he is.”

BOOK: Kin of Kings (The Kin of Kings Book 1)
5.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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