Soldiers of Tyranny, page 35
part #5 of Aielund Series
He hesitated.
Aiden felt Criosa’s hand gasp on to his, but his fear was subsiding on its own as a realisation came to light — the king was afraid of him. Aiden held the staff of the ancients in one hand, and although he didn’t yet know how to use it, Seamus didn’t know that. They exchanged an empty glare, Aiden’s blue eyes staring directly into the glowing red eyes of the construct armour, and then he raised the staff above his head.
The Ironlord actually took a step backwards. Seamus wasn’t as confident as he had been, and they could use this to their advantage.
“Ow!” Sayana suddenly cried as she grasped the back of her neck.
“What is it?” Aiden asked out of concern.
“I think he just tried to take control of me,” she mused, rubbing her neck with one hand. “It felt like something sharp was shoved into my spine, but it stopped below my head.”
“At least you know Terinus wasn’t lying,” Robert remarked. “This gives us a bit of an advantage.” This prospect lasted mere moments, however, when dozens of heavily armed soldiers strode into view behind their king.
“Lord Alwyn,” the voice of King Seamus bellowed, amplified and changed into something deep and terrible by the ancient contraption. “Eliminate those traitors and retrieve that staff.”
“Their sorcery makes them formidable foes, Majesty,” the obsequious lord pointed out, making sure to keep his armoured king between himself and Aiden’s companions. When they had last met, he had been standing by the king’s side at Aiden’s execution.
The thin lord had adorned himself in the finest plate armour money could buy, as were most of his men, but this did nothing to bolster their confidence. “I do not relish the prospect of facing a dragon, even a small one. Also, our forces defending the southern gate request your assistance. They are in danger of being overwhelmed and the walls are crumbling under the barrage of our enemy’s siege weaponry.”
“Secure the staff from these people and I shall deal with everything,” the king growled. “The remnants of the University’s wizards can hold the south for a while longer, and His Eminence will assist you in dealing with their sorcerers.”
“And what of your daughter?” Alwyn inquired.
“Take her alive, I have plans for her.”
“Very well, My Liege,” Alwyn nodded as he drew his fine arming sword. “Sergeant, please eliminate Mister Wainwright and his associates, but be sure to take Princess Criosa alive.”
“How are you two ladies faring?” Robert tiredly asked Sayana and Nellise as the opposing force began marching in their direction. “Feel up to taking on a few dozen well-armed men?”
“It’s not like we have a choice,” Nellise pointed out. “It seems the new Archieros is coming to challenge us, too. This is beginning to look a little one-sided.”
“Aren’t we expecting reinforcements?” Pacian asked.
“Only if Gabe can break through the gates,” Robert answered, “and even then, Seamus might be keeping his distance from the staff, but he’ll be more than capable of flattening the entire army by himself. We need to break through their lines and assault him directly.”
“I need a minute or two of study to figure out how to disable him,” Aiden reminded Robert. “Can you all keep them busy for a little while longer?”
You will have your two minutes, but more than that we cannot guarantee, Spartan warned.
“Let’s see if we can even the odds a little,” the mercenary suggested. “Fall back into the castle — they’ll only have one avenue of approach. Go!” They turned and hurried back across the drawbridge while Spartan and Maggie took to the skies. Their apparent retreat sent up a roar from the Aielish soldiers, who charged along the road after them.
“Can we close the drawbridge or the doors?” Sayana called over the din.
“No time,” Robert bellowed, standing in the middle of the open doorway as three dozen heavily armed men bore down on them. Nellise moved to his side and drew her sword. She spoke a quick prayer, bathing the plain weapon with a subtle white light and made sure her helmet was securely in place.
Criosa stood back and began shooting arrows into the approaching horde, while Pacian and Ronan hid to either side of the door, clearly planning an unpleasant surprise for whoever came through first. Sayana raised her arms and sent a line of raging flames spreading across the approach. Aiden planned to aid them were he could, but his main focus was on the Lexicon and the staff in his hands.
Focusing on the obscure language while a pitched battle was taking place only yards away was hardly the best way to study, but he wasn’t offered much choice in the matter. Lightning and fire lashed the drawbridge as Spartan flew overhead, making quick dashes to avoid the archers lining up to take shots at him. Even then, Robert, Nellise and Captain Sherrard were struggling to hold the line against the wave of attackers, and while Pacian’s deadly skill with his battle staff slowed down their approach on the right flank, the left remained open.
Aiden withdrew a wand from his robe and pointed it at the men pushing through the left flank. With a spoken word of command, flashing bolts of pure energy shot forth and slammed into the group. Staggered from the assault but still in the fight, the warriors pressed the attack once more, so Aiden kept speaking the command word for the wand over and over again, sending a torrent of magical energies at the front line.
Broken bodies lay strewn over the floor by the time the wand stopped responding, smoke rising from its blackened length as Aiden tossed it aside.
“You do your job, Aiden, and I’ll do mine,” Robert roared as he kept up the fight.
“You’re welcome,” Aiden muttered as he turned his focus to the Lexicon once more. Almost immediately, the correct staff almost jumped out of the page at him. A surge of excitement shot through his veins as he turned to the correct page and began scanning through the glyphs presented there.
An explosion of fire almost caught Aiden’s attention until he realised Sayana was thinning their ranks some more. Taking up the staff in one hand, he began connecting the various runes to their functions. The ring of metal on metal continued as he concentrated fiercely on the ancient language before him, trying not to think about his countrymen falling in battle on the whims of a madman.
Unable to keep his mind locked on the task, Aiden glanced up to see Robert duelling Lord Alwyn. It should have been an easy contest for the experienced mercenary, but fatigue was slowing his reflexes to the point he was barely holding his own against the Aielish lord. Sherrard had already fallen back to Criosa’s position, clutching his side as blood flowed freely from a terrible wound, and Ronan soon joined him to make better use of his short bow.
Feeling annoyed the betrayal of the cold and calculating lord, Aiden saw the opportunity for some personal revenge. He lifted his hand and unleashed a bolt of lightning which arced through Alwyn’s suit as if it were nothing. The lord staggered to his knees as he cried out in pain, giving Robert the opportunity for a decisive strike. Surprisingly, it didn’t come, for the mercenary was barely able to stand from the weight of his own armour.
Testing a theory, Aiden spoke the command word for the storm of bolts he had incanted from the wand just before, and to his satisfaction, half a dozen darts of pure energy flashed through the air and finished off Alwyn while Robert caught his breath.
From amongst the faltering soldiers on the front line came a robed figure wearing a golden breastplate and carrying a mighty sledgehammer. Aiden thought to warn Robert but his tired mind reacted too slowly as the massive weapon swung through the air and impacted directly with the mercenary, sending him sprawling onto the ground with his face echoing the pain he felt in his body.
Aiden recognised the priest Ernest Price, whom he had met on several occasions before. He was now adorned in the raiment’s of the Church of Aielund’s highest office and his round face and kind eyes stood in stark contrast to the carnage around him. He raised his sledgehammer with the intention of finishing Robert off, but was struck by Nellise’s blade.
The weapon seemed to impact an invisible obstacle, which simply showered the area with sparks. The two stood squaring off against each other, while Pacian moved through the shadows around the edge, attempting to find the ideal location to strike from behind. Price casually glanced at him and spoke a single word — “sleep”, and Pacian suddenly collapsed to the ground.
Nellise began whispering a prayer, looking at Pacian in a clear attempt to rouse him from his artificial sleep, but the Archieros simply looked at her and smiled in condescension.
“Your faith appears to be lacking, child,” he spoke with smooth words. “I cannot affect you directly, of course, for Kylaris wants you to be redeemed, not destroyed. I look forward to reeducating you in the proper use of divine power.” Sayana answered for her, taking a moment from her solitary defence of the front line to bath him in fire. When the flames subsided, Price seemed unperturbed and completely unharmed.
He whispered a prayer and wreaths of light surrounded Sayana, growing tighter until she was completely bound and unable to move, let alone speak.
“You little prick,” Ronan growled as he sent arrow after arrow flying at the priest, none of which seemed to penetrate whatever protections he carried.
“He is too well protected,” Nellise called as Criosa also shot arrows, which simply bounced off just like the others. “We will keep him busy while you tackle the king!”
“I have a better idea,” Aiden shouted back, raising the staff and tracing a line of glyphs with one finger. A pulse of faint energy erupted from the staff in all directions, passing through all of them equally. All of the magical power they had called upon was instantly dismissed, including Price’s protections and more importantly, Sayana’s bindings.
The instant she was free, the sorceress raised her hands and sent a bolt of crackling green energy at the man. He was engulfed and had only a fraction of a moment to let out a scream before his entire body was evaporated. Only a pair of charred boots remained, standing morbidly where the man had been a few heartbeats before.
Faced with such power, the few remaining enemy soldiers hesitated in their approach. The archers out on the drawbridge were focused solely upon them which seemed to indicate Spartan had been forced to retreat, but when Aiden thought they had them beaten the wall just behind him exploded and sent him skidding across the floor. Dazed from the impact, he looked back and saw the Ironlord towering over him. Seamus had used his troops as a diversion so he could find another way at them.
The armoured king bent down and wrench the relic staff from Aiden in his metal hands and snapped it in two, sending out a minor explosion of fire and lightning as the power within was released.
“Now your hope is crushed and my victory assured,” Seamus intoned with barely concealed excitement as Aiden stared up at his nemesis in horror.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Father, please,” Criosa implored, “get out of that damnable thing. It has warped your mind and spirit. Let us help you!”
“You do not seem to understand,” Seamus replied in his deep, altered voice. “We need never fear a war again, and now I have lured our enemies within my grasp, I can end the threat and annex Tulsone for our own purposes. This suit is powerful, but absolutely refuses to be teleported to the front lines, so I arranged for the war to come to me. Finally, Aielund will be secure. My reign will last for centuries, for within this suit I am practically ageless.”
Aiden continued staring up at the monstrosity, paralysed with fear. His earlier elation at finding the staff vanished the instant Seamus had destroyed it. They had no way of stopping him now.
“This is wrong, father,” Criosa wailed, backing away as the king began to move towards her. Captain Sherrard moved to stand before her, but the king simply shoved him aside as if he weighed nothing.
“I’m removing you from the presence of these traitors and heretics,” he growled ominously. “You will learn obedience, so help me.” He had stepped right past Aiden, whose wide eyes were locked upon the sight of the unstoppable construct stomping by. All of his fears had come to pass and in his panicked state, he could barely think. As he stared at its back, wallowing in defeat, he suddenly noticed something of paramount importance.
The rear hatch was open.
His mind froze and hope surged into his chest, along with a healthy intake of air. His mind whirled at the implications, but only one possibility came to mind.
“The staff must have…” he whispered aloud, drawing the conclusion that when he sent out the neutralising burst, it must have triggered the Ironlord’s escape hatch.
With fury replacing fear, Aiden rose to his feet. Options flooded through his mind, but he latched onto the most appropriate response — unbridled rage. He raised his arms and roared the command word for the bolt storm invocation over and over, sending a swarm of glowing darts into its vulnerable back.
Aiden swayed from the discharge of energy being drained from his body, but delved deep into his reserves to keep it up. A roar of inarticulate rage came from deep within, sounding more like that of a dragon than a person.
The king screamed as his real body was torn apart by the barrage, sending rivers of blood gushing out through the hatch. Criosa screamed as the construct fell face first onto the floor, cracking the flagstones from its sheer weight. Silence descended as they stood there, staring at the sudden turnabout in their fortunes. Aiden leaned heavily against the wall, struggling to catch his breath. In the distance, the battle raged on, and the sound of booted feet was growing louder by the moment. Then, to Aiden’s horror, the Ironlord began to move again.
“It’s keeping him alive,” he blurted in horror. “Sy, finish this while we still can!”
“No, get him out!” Criosa cried, struggling to climb over a mountain of bodies to reach her father. Arrows began to rain through the doorway as longbow men out on the drawbridge saw what was going on and rushed to the aid of their fallen king. Criosa was struck in her arm, forcing her to pull back out of sight, but her eyes never left the metal form her father occupied. He had risen to one knee, struggling to stand while the ancient construct rapidly stitched his body back together again.
“There’s no time,” Aiden shouted to Sayana. “Do what you have to!” With arrows raining down upon them, the sorceress resorted to a quick dimensional shift. She reappeared right behind him and as the Ironlord stood once more on two feet, unleashed crackling green energy right through the hatch. The brilliant energy came out the other side, searing through the chest and sizzling off into the sky beyond.
When the armour fell to the ground once more, there was no doubt it would ever be getting back up again. A low rumbling noise emerged from the charred armour, along with a high-pitched shriek which set Aiden’s ears on edge. Cracks began to appear in places along the metal of its back, with white-hot light shining forth from within. Heat swept over Aiden like a volcano, and he stumbled to get out of its way.
“I think we might want to be someplace else,” he shouted over the noise, which grew with intensity every moment. A pillar of fire shot up from the rear hatch, blasting the ceiling with flame until it began to glow red. Outside, the archers turned and ran. Aiden grabbed a stunned Criosa by the wrist and practically dragged her away. His strength was gone after unleashing everything he had at the monster, and they stumbled over bodies and broken stone in an effort to escape what he suspected would be a catastrophic explosion of energy.
They half-crawled, half-ran away from the castle. Aiden didn’t even know if the others were following, for he was so tired each movement took monumental effort. Somehow, he kept placing one foot in front of the other, urging his body forward with sheer strength of will. Behind them, the sounds of a castle wall collapsing spurred them on, and the blinding light coming from the disintegrating construct shot up into the sky, lightning up the area brighter than any summer’s day.
By the time they reached the far side of the drawbridge, Aiden had to cover his eyes with one arm to keep out the blinding light. The shrieking wail had risen to a deafening pitch and in his sluggish mind, Aiden knew right then they weren’t going to put enough distance between them. Despairing at being unable to save them, he collapsed to the ground and held Criosa tightly as the world around them came to an ear-shattering end.
* * *
There was darkness for an indeterminate time, and then Aiden’s mind began to work once more. His eyes felt as though they had been glued together and his limbs had giant weights attached. He managed to move one of his fingers, and let out a faint groan as he slowly uncurled his body. Wiping away the muck, Aiden saw through blurry eyes the ground was covered in a layer of fine grey ash. He slowly peered around in a dumbfounded state, taking in a scene of devastation.
Of the castle, there was no sign. Only the blasted remains of its foundations were visible on the grey landscape. Above, a towering cloud dominated the sky, not unlike the shape of a colossal mushroom. The buildings which lined the main street had their exteriors charred, but were otherwise intact. Silence echoed through the streets, indicating the distant fighting had ended with the destruction of the castle.
High above, Aiden spied the distinctive form of Spartan wheeling through the skies, moving on a slow orbit of the city. A faint groaning sound drew Aiden’s attention to the rubble nearby. Criosa, lying amongst the detritus, began to stir. Aiden forced his aching body to move and slowly, he hobbled to her side.
“Criosa,” he rasped through his dry throat, rolling her over and checking for sign of injury. She was scratched, bruised and covered in the same fine ash as everything else, but still alive.
“What happened?” she whispered, struggling to rise. Aiden offered her his hand, but when she took it, she recoiled and stifled a scream. “Aiden, your hand!”
His glove had gone missing during the fight and the sleeve of his robe was torn, revealing an arm that was less than human. Deeply-rooted golden scales covered the arm more than before, and even its shape had changed, becoming more elongated and reptilian. A claw with sharp talons flexed on the end of his arm where his hand had once been.
