The Exodus Sagas: Book IV - Of Moons and Myth (69 page)

BOOK: The Exodus Sagas: Book IV - Of Moons and Myth
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My blades hurt her, as did yours, James.”
Shinayne whispered as they fell back in step through the me
lted door to the golden steps of
the forge. Her lip was split and her cheek was swelling
, the elven noble had never felt force like that before
.

“I know, but she is
still
too strong
, too fast
.” James
’ head
was bleeding from his impact with the cavern wall.


My powers are not harming
her
much, but I can try and slow her
.” Gwenneth wiped the sweat from her forehead.

“Time for some help from Vundren.” Zen slammed his hammer to the ground
despite the pain from
his
bruised
chest
. Light flashed from the weapon
and the forge dedicated to his Go
d at the same moment. His warhammer glowed and
hummed as he prayed silently. “Saberrak, what be your plan?”

Saberrak twirle
d his axes as they spread out in the cavernous forge
. The gray minotaur paced, back and forth, building his anger and rage. He raised his horns, eyes glowing with blue flames, and he bellowed at the approaching immortal as she reached the stairs
beneath the melted doorway
. He saw many demons behind her take flight in the hall of the throneroom, real ones, not shadows this time. He growled low and stared. Saberrak said nothing, not one word. He turned to his friends, a determined stare crossed his face, and he ran toward Arabashiel.


You heard him!”
Zen s
lammed his hammer to his shield and charged
.

Vuumber!”

K
aya IV:III

Refugee Encampment, Ruined Outskirts
of Tintasarn

The people stood, watched with curiosity and suspicion, as Lady Kaya
T’Vellon
, Sir Codaius
of Norninne, Sir Leonard
and Sir Karai
of Harlaheim,
all rode hard into the encampment. A woman they had never seen, as fast on foot as the charging horses, kept pace. Were it not for the serious and determined looks on their faces, the refugees would have shouted their names and applauded their arrival. All five made for the tent of Rosana, dismounting quickly as they approached, and spoke to no one.
Julia Whiteblade met them at the royal tents, did a quick dismount, and strode in behind them, closing the flaps tight.

“Father Garret, where is Lord Cristoff!?” Kaya was sweating from the hard ride in the hot morning steam of the uncharted west. “We need to speak with him, now.”


Ssshhh.”
Garret, Brunnwik, and Drodunn all put their fingers to their lips at the same time as the tent filled with armored knights and captains.

“Rosana is sleeping now, but not for long I am sure. The baby is coming, today, likely when she wakes up.” Garret looked in distress. His hands were smattered with blood.


Will she…is she going to…what is wrong…?”
Kaya whispered.

“The baby is early, she is not ready, but we cannot wait.” Garret looked to the table with the small knife
and the pile of rags, all with traces of blood. “The baby
, or the mother,
will die if she does not deliver within a few hours time.”

“What can we do?” Kaya glanced to Codaius, Julia, and the knights of Harlaheim.

“Pray, m’lady, just pray.” Brunnwik sighed with his hammer and moons held tight in his grip. His other hand wiped Rosana’s brow with a clean wet towel.

Angeline walked forward, no one here knowing her from anyone, yet no one stopped her. She placed her hand on the womb of the former queen of Harlaheim. She closed her eyes, listened to the morning air, and smiled.

“The boy is strong, with a good heart, full of love. But the cord is arou
nd his legs, it needs to be cut
for the mother to deliver and survive.” She opened her eyes. Everyone was staring at her.

Drodunn flipped open his book, his tome with all the names and goings on he had written in for decades. “What be your name, lass?”

“Angeline of Charity, of the Knights Soujan.” She bowed.
“I have asked the winds to assist, the sky to bless, and the sun to heal this woman and protect her child. She will survive.”


Uhhh…huh….

Drodunn Anduvann raised his red eyebrows and continued writing, yet gave an odd look to Brunnwik. The High Hammer gave the same suspicious look to Father Garret
, who merely shrugged and sighed.

“My good dwarven priests, at this point we will accept all the help and prayer we can.” Garret tried to smile, but his concern for Rosana and the baby was keeping his very serious.


Uhhh…huh…
lady of knights, calls upon
wind
and sees
future
of pregnant women…
named Angeline
…” Drodunn kept writing.

Garret looked past the lady in green robes, the dwarves, the knights in silence, and felt something from Kaya. “Lady T’Vellon, what is it?”

“I do not want to worry you here, you have enough to handle. I need Cristoff.” Kaya wiped her eyes, seeing Rosana somewhat pale, breathing quick, yet asleep. She wished she could stay to watch her would-be sister, to help her in her desperate struggle, but she had seen the army. She knew what she had to do.

“Are we in danger, Kaya?” Garret looked at her, then all of them,
and
the men hung their heads.

“We are, father.”

“Who and how many?” He washed his hands in the water basin, made the sign of the feathered cross on his chest, and reached for a dry towel.

“Armondeen, five legions. They are camped just north of an old outpost, a mile north of the ruined city.” Kaya breathed out deep, trying not to show her anticiptation at describing the mythical city she had seen from afar. Her mind focused on the five thousand soldiers that were preparing to enter it instead.

“We have how many here?” Garret kept drying his hands, looked over to his holy longsword against the small makeshift altar in the tent, and closed his eyes in silent prayer.

“Five hundred dwarves, mercenary companies from Freemoore number almost four hundred, Harlaheim has but three hundred or so, and fifty from Evermont with Sir Codaius.” Kaya kept breathing, wishing Alexei was here. He knew all the strategies, fought and led all the battles, he would know what to do.

“That be nearly thirteen hundred, say fifteen hundred if we sent a call to arms into the caravan, and that be including us, right?” Drodunn did some quick math and looked to everyone in the tent.

“Correct.” Kaya smiled, a false smile of hope, and nodded to the dwarven priest.

“Do we have anyone to call upon, anyone nearby that…” Father Garret knew the answer, and did not finish his question. They were days and days from
any
civilization. The former queen could not be moved,
they had not found the five they sought, and now an army that was four times theirs encroached on the ruins they needed to enter.

“Sir Jardayne will come, he swore on his honor. He will be here.” Codaius nodded but kept his eyes to the floor.

“With how many, though?” Kaya asked.

“At most, one legion.”

“Then we will still be vastly outnumbered, by over double our numbers. Can we move, further away, into the foothills or mountains?” Kaya looked to Garret.

“No, not a chance. The horses, wagons, nor the queen could make that journey. Our people have traveled across all of Shanador, in the summer and harvest months, they are at trail’s end, Lady Kaya.” Garret sighed and rubbed his face. “After the baby is born, we could make a slow withdraw to Evermont or Freemoore, but…”

“But, those five thousand soldiers
could be here within a few minutes’ time
. We would never make it. We are hidden here, around the south and east of the Kaki Mountains. Should we move, we will be spotted.”
Kaya sighed.

“Do they have scouts?” Drodunn was nervous now, it showed, he put his book away. “We need to get me brother, Tannek,
now
.”

“They did, ten scouts that will not be
returning, that is.” Kaya smir
ked.

“Then our time is short, surely whoever leads that force will know when his eyes and ears do not return to report.” Garret paced, watching Rosana, looking to his sword.

“Lord Amirak Harron Vir Magaste, and yes, he will know when his scouts do not return. Jardayne and
I know him, all too well.” The B
ear of Evermont sighed.


What do we do, father?”
Kaya let the desperate words escape her lips, thinking of the now ten thousand refugees waiting to see the promised lands of myth, and of Rosana and her unborn son.

“I see three priests, four knights, and one mercenary leader turned loyal captain, here in the tent. However, as our exodus continues to amass difficulty, I see one noblewoman, sent to me by divine purpose, Lady Kaya T’Vellon.
You decide
.”

“Me? Father do not put this upon me, I will get Lord Cristoff and---“

“He is an hour north,
or more, and an hour back
. In that time, we could be attacked. Give the order, m’lady.” Drodunn stood, reached for his axe with a trembling hand, and nodded to Garret.

Kaya closed her eyes, thought hard, and exhaled. Everyone stared, waited, and prayed quietly to themselves.

“Captain Julia, send a call to arms throughout the caravan, as quiet as possible, see what you can gather. The
n
arm them with whatever we have, and take position by that northwest ridge, nothing gets through.” Kaya looked to her fast.

“Yes, m’lady.” Julia nodded and marched out.

“Drodunn, organize the dwarves of Marlennak, take the center of the valley between the ridge and the crags, form a line across, crossbows ready.” She nodded to the dwarven priest.

“Aye, will do until me brother arrives.” Drodunn marched out next.

“Sir Leonard, take the remaining cavalry and watch the east for scouts or patrols. Sir Karai, with the Harlaheim soldiers to the western foothills, halbreds ready. Sir Codaius, your cavalry are in the center, next to the dwarves, ready to charge should anything approach.” Kaya thought of the positioning, did as she though her twin brother would do, and tried to remain calm. All her missions, deadly spots with little hope that she had survived, but this was different.
She had no false name, no mask to hide behind, and it was an open battle rather than an assassination.
Thousands of lives were at stake, something she had little experience with.

“Garret, Brunnwik, save the queen and her unborn son. I ride to find Cristoff, and I will ride fast.” Kaya nodded, received the affirmations of approval back, and turned around. She came face to face with Angeline of Charity.

“I will go with you,the trees have told me where to find who you seek. Follow me.” She felt the direction, marched with the wind at her back, and led Kaya to her horse.

“Your senses were right about the scouts and army, I hope they are
correct
about Rosana and the baby, and they had better get us to Cristoff quickly. Let’s go.” Kaya strad
d
led her stallion, turned southwest, and followed the green robed lady knight through the forest of dead branches and sandstone hills.
Kaya thought again, of Alexei, hoping he would approve of her actions and quick decisions. She realized h
ow much she missed him, though she
was doubtful he felt the same.

“My feelings are always right, follow me.” Angeline smiled. “And yes, your brother thinks of you often and would be very proud, were he to know of your journey.”

LCMVXILCMVXILCMVXILCMVXIL

Alexei T’Vellon stood back to his feet, his broadsword tipped in the earth to help, and he gasped for air. His last man twitched on the ground, blood spurting in final sprays
over the ground
.
The
Knights of Southwind had fought hard, as had the injured ogre guardi
an, but the battle was over.
S
tones
long
clo
sed behind him, he hoped the hei
r prince was alive and safe, and he faced his death with honor. He smiled, saluted the dead men on the field, and glanced at the rumbling sacred stones behind him that he knew so little about.

The Lord of Southwind faced
thirty soldiers, three doppelgangers that appeared as his deceased knights, and ove
r a dozen panthers that circled
in the faint glimmer of early morning. The one with the dead eye, the one he had fought on the walls of Valhera Castle, was slowly changing back to a man. Alexei raised his shield, raised his blood covered blade, and knew he had been victorious in preserving the kingdom of Chazzrynn. He thought of King Mikhail, knowing he was either dead or imprisoned. His mind drifted to his father, Arlinne, wondering if this is how he felt at his end
in Arouland
. Finally, he thought of his twin, Kaya, and a single tear formed in his eye. He let it fall,
hoping she was allright and would not feel his death,
and marched toward the swordsman of Johnas Valhera, intent on dying well.

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