Arcane mercenaries emper.., p.35
Arcane Mercenaries: Emperor, page 35
The volume of allied fire slowed, and Grant joined the ranks of the nervous Alenann knights close to the ancient doors. His mail hauberk and simple tabard were out of place. He was surrounded by expensive steel armor forged for individual preferences and likely meant for tournaments. He turned to the nobles and checked them off.
“Knights of Alenann. Today you fulfill your oaths to your liege lords and ladies. When those Tul smash through this door, we stand between defeat and failure. These are the stories you were told as children. Brave knights fighting against impossible odds for honor and glory,” Grant paused for a dramatic moment. “You keep the glory; I’m ready to kill some Tul.”
Cheers rattled along the line, and knights banged their swords against their shields to raise a rumble. The sounds died as the first smash caused the dried and rotted wood to crumble. Shouts and roars from the opposite side as the Tul readied for another push.
Grant checked his pistol one more time and glanced at Jafran. Aleksas secured her glasses and held a pair of pistols. Sina was ready with the mounted knights, waiting for their moment to charge. Grant didn’t need her in the mix of the upcoming melee. Jafran looked as dispassionate as he’d ever seen the man, and Grant smiled at his old friend.
On the third strike, the doors failed. The Tul poured through the opening, their disciplined lines forgotten as they rushed the gap. Every Alenann knight with a musket or pistol fired a blast into the advancing rush. Bodies flew, and the push crushed the wounded bodies into the flagstones.
Grant tossed aside his pistol and charged into the Tul lines. His sword left a trail of red death in every arc, and Jafran was at his side with a shield and saber. Grant’s power surged as he fought, tripping attackers with light gravity and hampering blades as he tugged on those around him.
The Alenann knights surged into action, sword and shield smashing into the advancing enemy. They held the line against the surging Tul. The weight of the Alenann armor anchored their position, and they fought with skill sharpened by over a decade of the Mage Wars and the tournament fields long before that.
Swords, axes, and maces hacked and smashed against soft human flesh. Sabers banged against hardened steel and slammed into shields. Boots slipped on the thickening gore and blood-soaked flagstones. But the Alenann line held as Grant and Jafran continued their whirlwind of death.
Grant ignored the wounds and lucky hits from his Tul opponents. The blood rush thumped in his hearing, and his powers handled the minor injuries. His focus was on pushing the Tul back out of the gates. The soldiers on the walls had stationary targets and would make the crown prince pay.
Crown Prince Tuva’s flag forged through the throngs of fighters engaged in their deadly dance. Arrows peppered the walls to protect their leader’s advance through the crowd. No one could risk leaning over the edge of the battlements to take a shot at the royal procession without taking an arrow in the head, and the Tul infantry redoubled their efforts.
Alenann knights fell under continuous pressure and an unlimited supply of soldiers desperate to seize the city. A wound to the knees or a ripped hamstring was enough to bring an armored soldier to the ground, and the fight would soon be over for that individual. The tide threatened to overwhelm the defenders as Grant, Jafran, and Aleksas fought from the front.
Not yet, Grant whispered in his mind. Sina had to hold her charge, even as her knights and nobles fell under the assault. Too soon, and they would be torn from their horses and pummeled into the city streets.
Queen Lenore rushed her infantry to the square to help the knights hold their ground. Her soldiers filtered down the staircases and joined the ranks at the shoulders of the gap, confining the Tul advance. Soldiers from above dropped rocks and fire bows through the murder holes, but they couldn’t stop the flow.
Grant spied his opponent through the surging bodies. The man advanced with eyes only for Grant. Tuva moved with sword and shield at the ready, and his soldiers parted for the man. The battlefield took on one of those strange pauses where the world seemed to hold its breath.
Yisu was with her crown prince, a look of confidence on her face as they ignored all targets other than Grant and his small party of Touched individuals. She moved through the heaving soldiers, and Tuva strolled by her side.
Grant turned and shouted for the Alenann knights to hold the line, and the steel wall reformed against the Tul. Tuva advanced with his bodyguard as they engaged the soldiers in the gap. Grant raised his sword and readied for his fight, but his powers sputtered and failed for the first time since StarFall. He couldn’t sense the strength of gravity around him, and his bruises and slashes ached.
Yisu smiled, and Crown Prince Tuva strode into Krosno’s courtyard.
67
COURTYARD
Yisu could dampen a StarTouched individual’s abilities.
Fear seeped into Grant’s mind as he dispatched a pair of soldiers near the crown prince, and Jafran thankfully blocked an attack Grant didn’t see coming for his head. They could quickly die against these odds, and Grant’s excessive bravery looked like a foolhardy decision to fight from the center of the line.
Jafran and Aleksas fought by his side, wielding their shields and blades to protect Grant’s flanks. Alenann knights fought against the Tul attackers, and Grant suddenly envied their bodies encased in steel. Swords rang off the Alenann defenses, and Grant had to fight harder than ever.
He would have longed for this opportunity in the early years of the Mage Wars. With his powers suppressed, he would have joined the countless corpses from any battlefield. The days he longed to die and join his family in whatever afterlife waited for his darkened soul seemed different now that the moment was upon him.
Jafran fought with the courage of ten soldiers, and Aleksas fought with the skill of a soldier with decades of experience on the battlefield. The pair were unstoppable, even without their powers to heal their wounds. But if they made a mistake or missed a sideways blow, they would join the bodies stacked in the courtyard. They would be more fallen mercenaries to join the others at the Battle of Krosno.
Grant chose to live by continuing to fight. He thought of Ez, Rienne, Sina, and his mercenary company. Queen Lenore joined her soldiers, and Dominick hurled death from above. Jafran and Aleksas never faltered as their powers dissipated under Yisu’s arcane assault, and Grant wouldn’t either.
Grant shifted his tactics from an outright disregard for his safety to an energy-conserving defense against the countless enemy. He’d forgotten how heavy his blade weighed when wielded by his exhausted arms. He unconsciously shifted its weight over the years to keep the pounding attacks coming when others would have withdrawn from the lines to rest.
Without a shield, he couldn’t pause and wiggle his fingers, and Grant regretted his choice to press the attack as he’d always done. How could he have known about Yisu’s power? Jakar warned him she had some ability as a Touched individual, but even the talented scout couldn’t predict a person’s talent. He would have fought the same way without knowing her power, and even understanding the crown prince’s hidden strength wouldn’t have changed Grant’s strategy.
Tuva closed the gap. His blade darted behind shields and left bloody trails in its wake. The man was a premier warrior amongst his skilled soldiers. The Tul could not lead if they could not fight, and Crown Prince Tuva wanted to command an empire, not just armies against the allied powers. His curved blade flickered and left wounds in its trail, and Grant couldn’t stop the man.
“Last chance, field marshal,” Tuva shouted over the brawling soldiers. “Surrender your forces, and we will honor you as skilled opponents.”
Grant grunted and held his blade in two hands.
“Your defense was admirable. The cardinal promised me open gates and an easy target with your headquarters tucked in an inn. You rallied quickly with impressive forces. Alenann, Ismore, and Eklund standing as one against our assault. Brave but futile.”
Grant couldn’t see the man’s smile under his protective helm, but he imagined the smirk growing across his face.
“We’re not done fighting,” Grant said.
“You think your soldiers on the river will stop us? Your mage’s mud and water were enough to thwart our advance against your conscripts?”
Doubt flickered at the back of Grant’s mind. The cardinal’s betrayal had no bounds, and Grant didn’t know what the fight at the river looked like. The allied powers had to hold against the infantry assault. They had to.
“You think your hundreds of soldiers would stop my thousands from seizing your city and driving you out?” Crown Prince Tuva advanced as the Alenann knights backed away from the flickering steel point.
“Actually, I did,” Grant said.
“The result is the same. Your leaders will surrender, and their troops will see it. We will fall upon your soldiers from the rear, and the rout will be complete. Your nations will bend a knee to the Tul Empire.”
“Lots of talk for a crown prince. Maybe your plan isn’t as good as you think.” Grant stepped forward from the protective ranks of the steel-encased knights and his friends.
“You challenge me? You fool.”
Tuva stepped forward and swung at Grant, testing his defenses. Even without his powers, Grant had over fifteen years of combat experience from the Mage Wars. He’d seen every fighting style taught by every blade master from across the nations. Grant knocked aside the probing attack, and the pair began circling each other.
Tuva’s curved blade came in with lightning strikes, and Grant maneuvered his heavy blade to block each one. He kept his exhausted legs moving, never slowing to allow Tuva to take an easy swipe at his tiring opponent.
Grant longed to feel his blood pound with power. He’d show the man what it meant to fight the allied nations, but his arms were exhausted from the work.
Soldiers bent on killing each other stopped their frantic blows as the duel continued. The courtyard was silent as the fate of empires hung in the balance, torn between a pair of blades. Tuva was a skilled master with his saber, and the weave of steel and shield was a sight to behold. Grant hadn’t seen his equal before on any battlefield.
For the first time since StarFall, Grant realized he had met his match. They would catch the crown prince in the thundering hooves if Sina could launch her charge. The duel was worth it if Jafran could hold the line and push the Tul back. Even if all he accomplished was to give the soldiers of Krosno a chance to break away from the fight to catch their breath, it was worth the effort.
It was a good day to die.
Grant smiled and launched his first series of attacks.
He matched styles and types of swings. Grant switched between a two-handed grip and single-handed swipes as he watched the prince respond to each effort. The blows fell, and the crown prince had to retreat from Grant’s ferocity. The Tul stared on as their mightiest commander slid back toward the gatehouse.
That was when Grant caught the gleam of Tuva’s teeth under his steel helm. The man was playing with him, making him overconfident in his abilities and putting on a show for his soldiers. Grant would fall in front of the allied leaders.
Grant’s offensive ended with crossed blades and heaving lungs. They stared at each other with locked cross guards. Tuva slammed his shield down and smashed Grant’s foot as pain lanced up Grant’s leg. He limped away from the locked encounter and barely pushed aside a swipe aimed at his neck.
Tuva advanced now with deadly intent. The game was over, and Grant wouldn’t win. He didn’t have tricks left from his years of warfare to counter his hobbled foot, and Tuva wouldn’t give him respite.
A flintlock barked from the walls, and Grant heard the whistle of a single chunk of lead. The round tore through armor, bone, and flesh. A life disappeared as acrid smoke revealed the markswoman’s location.
Yisu collapsed in a heap inside the gatehouse, and the Tul soldiers stared at her fallen body and shattered skull.
Grant’s power roared back through his veins, dulling the feeling in his foot. The soldiers gathered in the courtyard stared at Ez’s smoking barrel from her flintlock pistol. It was an impossible shot at her range, but she was outside the circle of energy Yisu could project. The bullet didn’t care about her power, and it did its job.
Grant spun toward his opponent and lightened his blade. Worry wrinkled the corners of Tuva’s eyes as his armor grew heavy, and his boots wouldn’t allow his feet to move freely. Grant surged in and traded new blows. His body couldn’t heal his broken foot fast enough, but Grant countered the man’s skills with gravity-laden blows.
Tuva fought heroically against Grant’s renewed assault, and the Alenann lines took heart and joined their commander. Jafran was by Grant’s side in a moment to fight off the protective bodyguard before they cut into Grant. Aleksas secured Grant’s other side.
Blow matched blow, and Tuva retreated from the Alenann assault. Grant led the way, pushing the Tul back to the gatehouse. He added more weight to Tuva’s heavy boots, and the man slipped in the carnage. Grant didn’t hesitate as the man flung his sword up to protect his body, and the silver arc severed the man’s hand from his body.
The crown prince’s bodyguard roared to life as their leader clutched his bleeding stump and withdrew from the fight. Somehow the entire Tul army knew about their liege’s predicament and fought with fresh energy against the exhausted Alenann and Eklund soldiers. They could still lose this fight with the thousands of Tul soldiers waiting to surge into the courtyard.
Grant signaled for the trumpet blast. The Alenann knights and Eklund soldiers parted as Sina ordered the charge into the Tul ranks. The Alenann knights lowered their lances and pounded into the weakening lines, and the warhorses didn’t stop as they cleared the gate.
Grant’s power eased his painful wounds and warmed his broken foot as he leaned on his blade and looked out the broken gates. Jakar arrived with his cavalry and ordered a charge as Sina, and her knights flew out of the gatehouse.
68
AFTERMATH
The Tul offensive against Krosno faltered by sunset. Grant wanted to push his forces against the Tul as they slipped away from the Nanfell, but his exhausted reserve and battered forces couldn’t launch an attack against the mounted Tul.
Even Jakar’s cavalry had limited results against the withdrawing foe. The Tul compound bows promised quick death for any of his soldiers approaching the retreating host. Jakar’s scouts reported the Tul returning to their pre-dawn positions.
Their maneuver put them out of range of even Ismia’s skilled gunners. Grant chafed at the headquarters to find a brigade or a battalion that he could throw at the disorganized Tul. One vigorous attack would send them back to their empire, but every unit in every sector was a battered mess from the day’s battle.
He looked at the map and considered sending orders to his famed Arcane Mercenaries to prepare for a night attack. Grant knew what the queen, Michaux, Ez, and Jafran would say about his desperate plan. Launching an unplanned raid across a river into tens of thousands of surviving Tul would end his forces.
He hoped history would look favorably upon his decision to let his soldiers rest.
The command center was quiet as people avoided the empty seats from every division, and exhausted soldiers moved about their tasks listlessly. Even Ez didn’t have the usual drive to organize the staff efforts and keep the headquarters pumping with energy to support the soldiers in the field. Grant walked out of the headquarters to allow the team to reorganize and prioritize their limited resources.
Grant walked alone toward the south wall overlooking the main battlefield. His powers healed his broken foot an hour ago, and he didn’t walk with a limp as the evening’s cool embrace clutched the parapets. A pair of soldiers were all that remained from the night watch, and they gave Grant room as he looked across the distance in the fading light.
He wanted to scream into the night in frustration. Cardinal Wallner and his escorts rode out of this gate hours ago. Why would the soldiers here stop the powerful priest when he appeared to be heading toward the raging battle? Of course, no one reported his visit in any sector of the allied defense, and the man’s clean escape was a dark mark on Grant’s conscience.
“Trying to hold back the shadows?” Rienne asked from a distance. When Grant said nothing, she approached in the gathering gloom. “I heard about the cardinal. You didn’t have a choice.”
“That would be quite the story if we executed the man in Krosno.” Grant’s humor fell flat in his ears.
“It wouldn’t change the Mage Wars,” Rienne said. “His hatred is like a poison coursing through too many people’s veins. Nobles, commoners, and church officials hate the StarTouched, and his sermons of destruction will live on long after he’s gone.”
“Do you hate the StarTouched?” Grant asked without turning toward her. He didn’t dare look at her face.
“I study them, Grant,” she said. “I’m fascinated by StarFall and its influence on human history. Never in a million years did I imagine standing at some nameless place on a map fighting for two empires. Hatred isn’t useful in my line of work.”
“All the time I longed to die on a battlefield, and Yisu scared me,” Grant said. “I thought it was my last day.”
“See your family again?”
Grant’s heart hardened, and he turned away from the bard. There were times her probing curiosity went too far, and this time she touched on a topic that was too close to Grant’s heart. She didn’t know him well enough to know that topic was out of bounds, and she wisely kept her mouth shut as Grant continued his lonely patrol.
“For all my experience in the court and years of training at the feet of esteemed masters, I still say the wrong things. I’m sorry, Grant,” Rienne offered.
