Rhanu growled and stabbed his wakiza through the throat and out the back of a Gorian's skull. The creature's second head snarled at him until he was forced to silence it with a second stroke of his blade. He flung the monster aside in disgust. Something tugged on his belt, and he paused in mid-swing when it turned out to be Ayna snatching out his khopesh to stab the Gorian that had attacked from his blind side. The creature didn't appear to even feel the wound as it roared and swung its notched and rusted scimitar.
Rhanu pulled Ayna back with his shield upraised. The Gorian's jagged blade thumped off the leather-wrapped oak with such force that Rhanu stumbled backward. The Gorian squealed as it launched forward, bowling them over in a tangle of limbs.
Rhanu found himself at the bottom of the pile with the feral creature atop him. Both had lost their swords, but only Rhanu seemed to notice. The Gorian's attack was pure savage rage. It took all of Rhanu's strength to keep the creature's long, yellowed fangs from tearing out this throat. All the while the Gorian raked with its claws and struck vicious blows the Rhanu's armor barely blunted.
"Here."
Both combatants paused at Ayna's commanding voice. Her face was remarkably calm when she raised her hand. The air flickered, and the Gorian shrieked as it was flung backward as though struck by a battering ram.
Rhanu shakily raised himself as Ayna retrieved his wakiza and handed it to him, keeping the khopesh for herself. "You cannot fight for two, Ludari. I can take care of myself."
He stared at the Gorian's limp body a few spans away as he accepted the blade. "So I see."
"You can fight with more than your sword as well."
He whirled and cut into a charging Gorian so viciously that the creature nearly split in two.
"Hard to find this focus you talk about in the middle of a battle, Amisi."
"Rhanu." Han pointed.
The Reaver still knelt in the pool as though unaware of what happened around it. A circle of Gorian warily closed in, jagged weapons at the ready. Rhanu moved to aid the Reaver, but hairy, snarling bodies blocked his way. He fought back to back with Ayna, whirling his wakiza like a staff. Gorian howled when they felt its sting. By the time Rhanu's line of vision cleared, the Gorian around the Reaver had raised their jagged blades. Rhanu called out a warning, but the din of the battle drowned out his voice.
It didn't matter.
The Reaver rose in a blur of movement, whipping its blade in a whistling arc. It strode through the creatures as they fell in a grisly array of spurting blood and severed limbs. More Gorian howled and threw themselves against it, practically climbing over their ranks as if seeking to overwhelm it by the weight of sheer numbers. The Reaver whirred from one to next with speed impossible for something of its size. It swung its massive blade like a farmer harvesting wheat, cutting down every Gorian in its path.
Rhanu raised his wakiza. "Rally to the Reaver. Press forward!"
The army roared, battering the haphazard lines of Gorian. The fog had thinned, though dark, whirling clouds still blanketed the sky. The marshland was left behind, and the army trotted along with the horsemen on rocky ground, no longer fearful of their bestial attackers. Though the rear lines still skirmished with the remaining Gorian, the front lines jogged forward, spurred on by the fearlessness of their ebony figurehead.
The Gorian became fodder, a mere distraction for an army emboldened by the nearness of their goal. The Reaver led them, striking down anything foolish enough to hinder it. It easily outran the warhorses, every step taking it several spans.
The soaring towers of Aceldama became visible as they topped the next hillside. Its grounds were abuzz with moving figures, while winged creatures circled above its spires, silhouetted against the grainy light of the cloud-enshrouded sky.
The Reaver trotted down the hillside without hesitation. The army followed closely behind, a haphazard line of horses and armor that brandished flickering steel and filled the air with the thunder of their defiance.
Chapter 63: Alaric
Alaric allowed a domestic to adjust the straps on the gryphon-emblazed cuirass he wore over his white tunic and silver mail. His trousers were white as well, so that along with his ruby gauntlets and silver chased boots, he positively glowed. It did not matter that he would stand out on the battlefield. Any foe besides the Reaver was chaff. It pleased him to appear the opposite of the ebon Reaver, a champion of light fighting against the darkness that threatened his people.
Jacquelis stood beside him, swathed in red silk. She touched the pommel of the sword buckled to his waist. The scabbard was heavily gilded in silver carvings of dragons. Dragon wings formed the cross guard, and the hilt was long enough to be wielded with two hands. An onyx orb centered the cross guard.
"You wear the sword again."
Alaric unsheathed the slender blade. The metal hummed softly, glimmering bluish-white. It was razor sharp and so thin it looked as though it would shatter if struck with any force. He smiled.
Appearances were deceiving.
"I do." He sheathed it with care. "You know what happened the last time I wielded this weapon. That is why you must go. The Blood will look to you for guidance should I fall this day."
She bowed her head. "It shall be as you desire, my lord." A smile touched her lips as she regarded him. "You do not have to fear defeat. You will be strong now as you have always been."
He bowed over her hand. "You have always supported me through all the ages, good and bad."
"And I always shall. You are my heart, a child though not of my flesh, at least of my soul. You always will be."
He opened his mouth but was interrupted by the piercing shrieks of the Dhamphir from above.
"The Reaver comes."
They strode to the window. The dark figure had just topped the hillside and descended the grassy slope. Alaric focused, magnifying his view so that he clearly saw the Reaver as it stormed down the hillside like a walking anvil. Alaric's pulse quickened, his breath caught in his throat.
He had forgotten the fear that the Reaver inspired.
For a moment Alaric thought it had left its army behind, but the men topped the hill as well. Their roars were thunderous as they waved their weapons, a flood of armored locusts on the move.
He turned to Jacquelis. "It is time. You must go now."
She touched her fingers to her lips and bowed. "You have awakened now, milord. This day is yours."
Then she was gone.
Krolo was barely visible in the shadows of the hall. Alaric nodded to the creature.
"Unleash your warriors."
Krolo flicked his fingers at one of the gargoyles outside the window. It immediately gave a harsh cry and flew up to the top spires. Within moments the shrill screams of the Dhamphir filled Alaric's ears as they rained from the sky toward the soldiers like death on leathery wings.
Alaric returned his gaze to the Reaver. "You have a Sage to slay, Krolo. Bring his Geod to me when you are finished."
The creature bowed before he turned to the shadows. Alaric felt the ripples of his Shadowmeld as he departed.
One of the captains jogged up, resplendent in light plates of silver and gold-chased armor. He saluted. "We are ready, your Majesty."
Alaric nodded. "Let them taste fire and death. Bring out the Wyverns."
Chapter 64: Rhanu
Theron led the Norlanders and Ulfhenar after the Reaver. They roared, thundering down the valley with all the din of a stampeding herd of wisents. The turf tore apart, raising clouds of earthy dust in their wake. The soldiers separated into organized divisions as the field opened up, each with a separate commander and agenda to accomplish.