A Trial of Souls Read online

  Soon the wounded were being carried to an area a few hundred feet back from the rear lines. Ignoring the still fevered battle, they set about their work.

  “We have done this far too often,” remarked Nehrutu.

  Aaliyah was tending an elf who had been run through by an Angrääl spear. She looked up with a fragile smile, her warrior’s face now replaced by that of a concerned parent. “This is only the beginning.”

  Another hour had passed when a young Althetan soldier ran up, jubilant. “My lord. They are retreating.”

  Nehrutu nodded, unable to smile. “As soon as you are able, send word of our situation to King Lousis.”

  The soldier bowed and sped off.

  Nehrutu glanced up at the walls of Althetas. Indeed the enemy was in retreat. The fires behind the walls made it easy to see. Dozens of elf and human healers had come to help, but more were still needed.

  He closed his eyes and thought of home, wondering if he would ever see it again.

  Chapter 19

  King Lousis paced back and forth under the pavilion. He desperately wanted to be somewhere - anywhere but where he actually was. He glanced across at Lord Chiron, who just grinned with amusement. Striding over to a small table, he grabbed a bottle of wine and lifted it to his mouth. Something then caused him to hesitate. Letting out a curse, he replaced the bottle without having taken a drink.

  “I do not think a small measure of wine will addle your senses,” remarked Chiron. “In fact, it might do you some good.”

  Lousis didn’t bother to look up. “I can’t abide this waiting.”

  Chiron laughed. “Frankly, I could wait forever. If it takes our enemy a hundred years to arrive, it is still too soon for my taste. I have seen more than a full measure of war during my life and am in no hurry to see more.”

  Bellisia placed her hand on Chiron’s shoulder. “Perhaps you could be a little less…jovial.”

  Chiron chuckled. “My lady, since the moment Gewey told us what is written in the Book of Souls, I have had to look at life from a different perspective. And for my part, I will keep my spirits as high as my heart allows.”

  Bellisia looked at him crossly. “You should still be considerate.”

  “No,” Lousis interjected. “He’s right. Our hearts cannot be filled with darkness. That alone can defeat us.” He reopened the bottle and this time took a long drink. “We have had one triumph, and now we will have another.”

  Chiron stepped forward and took the bottle. Bellisia did the same, albeit without the mirthful grin of Chiron. Maynard, who was standing in the far corner, grumbled at first, then shouted for more wine. For the next few hours until dusk, runners continued to bring news that all was prepared. Lousis stared blankly at the map of the city, wishing there was more he could do. But there was not. All that could be done, had already been done.

  Lousis tensed as he saw a messenger approaching with a fearful look. He handed the king a small piece of parchment.

  “It has begun,” muttered Lousis. He felt almost relieved.

  For the next two hours King Lousis and Lord Maynard received report after report of the enemy’s assault. Mostly they were doing nothing more than firing arrows over the wall from behind large wooden shields.

  “Something tells me that they will unleash their real intentions soon, your highness,” said Maynard. “For certain they did not send so many just to shoot arrows at us from afar.”

  His words were proved correct. A few seconds later a messenger arrived, pale and out of breath. “They’ve battered down the city gate,” he gasped.

  Lousis and Maynard exchanged shocked glances.

  “That should have taken them hours, if not days!” Lousis exclaimed. “How did this happen?”

  “They rolled up a battering ram,” the messenger explained, fear in his voice. “One like I’ve never seen. The end was wrapped in white sackcloth…” He paused. “One strike. That’s all it took. Just one strike before the gates burst into splinters and flames. The force instantly killed twenty men standing close by inside. It ripped them apart as if they were made of silk.”

  Lousis tried to picture the scene in his mind. “Are we holding the market?”

  The messenger shook his head. “We have pulled back just beyond and are holding them away from the merchant and tavern districts.”

  Chiron touched Lousis’ shoulder and pointed in the direction of the west gate. They could see the red glow of flames and thick black smoke rising. At that moment his guard surrounded the pavilion.

  “If they are within the walls,” said Chiron, “we may be forced to flee.”

  “No!” shouted Lousis. “Nehrutu will still come. We will not lose Althetas!”

  Reports of the enemy advance continued to pour in throughout the next hour. After the death of two guard captains, Lord Maynard left them to take direct control of the defense, while Chiron and Bellisia began treating the wounded that were being laid down around the pavilion.

  It was nearing midnight when Maynard returned to the pavilion, his face covered in soot and his armor spattered with blood. He cursed and spat. “The devils are burning everything. Half the city is in flames.”

  “Any sign of Nehrutu?” asked Lousis.

  “We are cut off from the west gate,” explained Maynard. “There is a company of bowman barricaded within the guard tower, but we can’t get to them. If reinforcements have arrived, there is no way to know. We’ll have to wait for them to break through.”

  A sweat-soaked soldier ran up and saluted. “The enemy is pushing toward your manor, your highness.”

  Lousis’ hand instantly shot to the hilt of his sword. Maynard tried to step in front of him, but the king was having none of it. Pushing the commander aside, he set off at a run toward his home. His guards immediately chased after him.

  “Bloody hell,” grumbled Maynard, following on with Chiron and Bellisia beside him.

  Smoke filled the streets, stinging Lousis’ eyes and burning his throat. He knew he should have stayed at the command center, but the thought of invaders in his home - his father’s home - was more than he could bear. As the manor came into sight he let out a loud sigh of relief. Beyond the gates, several hundred Althetan soldiers had formed a protective ring around the building. On seeing their king, their cheers erupted and swords rattled against shields.

  “This is foolish, your highness,” said Maynard, finally catching up. “You would risk your life for bricks and mortar?”

  Lousis fixed his eyes on Maynard’s. “It is far more than just bricks and mortar. It is my home, and the home of every king that will rule after me. Our history lives inside those walls, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anyone destroy it.”

  The sounds of battle continued to echo throughout the streets, as if the city itself was crying out in agony for each moment the invaders trespassed within its walls. The king’s guard pushed their way through the lines, escorting Lousis to the rear.

  An Althetan captain made his way to Lousis and bowed low. “We are honored to have you with us, your highness, but if the enemy attacks in force we may not be able to protect you. Perhaps it would be best if...”

  “Who ordered the king’s manor protected?” asked Lousis.

  The captain looked confused. “Ordered? No one.”

  “Then why are you here?” asked the king, at the same time looking to Maynard.

  The captain’s face showed pride and resolve. “This scum may burn the rest of the city to rubble. But they’ll not touch the king’s manor. As long as it stands, the city will live on.”

  “You see, Lord Maynard?” jeered Lousis. “It’s not just bricks and mortar.”

  Maynard grunted. “You do realize, your highness, that the manor gate and fence was not designed to hold off an attack.”

  “If it slows them even a bit, it will help,” countered Lousis.

  Half an hour passed. The glow from the burning buildings drew ever closer and brighter until the flagstone street directly beyo
nd the manor fence was reflecting vivid orange. Shadowy figures could be seen running back and forth between the large houses that surrounded them.

  “Can you tell if they are ours?” Lousis asked Bellisia and Chiron.

  Both shook their heads.

  They could hear the thunder of boots drawing ominously closer. The glint of blades and armor then appeared from behind the houses. Moments later, hundreds of Angrääl soldiers charged toward them, their battle cries heralding their madness and fury. Dozens of shields crashed into the wrought iron fence, and just as Maynard had predicted, it gave way almost immediately before being trampled completely flat by enemy boots.

  Lousis shouted a challenge. In response, his soldiers raced to meet the enemy, their fevered cries ringing with blood lust. Shields collided with ear splitting cracks, and for a moment both sides came to a thudding halt. Gradually though, the overwhelming numbers of Angrääl began to inch the king’s men back toward the manor walls. Swords sought flesh from behind shields, and men on both side screamed in agony as the blades found their mark.

  Lousis tried to move forward, but Bellisia placed herself between him and the fray, pushing him back.

  “If we fail, go inside,” she ordered. Without waiting for a response, she leapt to her left to help hold the flank.

  Angrääl soldiers were now beginning to break through a few at a time. Half of the Althetan defenders had fallen as more and more enemy reinforcements came in from the streets. Lousis looked over his shoulder. The door to his beloved home was only a few yards away. A few feet in front of him, Bellisia, Chiron and Maynard were fighting fiercely to hold off more than a dozen men. Even though his guard was now all but destroyed, those few remaining were still trying desperately to surround him. Just then, he heard an anguished cry and saw Maynard clutching at a sword that had pierced his gullet.

  “No!” shouted Lousis. Without hesitation, he went running over. With a single swing of his sword he hacked off the arm of his friend’s killer.

  Blind rage was engulfing him. Again and again his sword lashed out as he pushed his way to the front. The voices of protest from his men became nothing more than a distant echo. Pain shot through his arm as his armor was laid open. Yet another blow knocked the helmet from his head. Still he was undaunted, and three more men fell to his fury. Another enemy sword found the flesh of his left thigh, but the blood running down his leg only fueled his anger. Chiron and Bellisia appeared by his side, their eyes glowing red from the nearby flames. Lousis allowed himself a slight smile, then struck off the head of an Angrääl axeman.

  All but about twenty of the Althetans were now slain, including Lousis’ entire guard. This harsh reality gradually stifled his anger and quieted his madness. His sudden rage had surprised the enemy, forcing them to give ground. But he knew this could not last. Within moments he and the others would all be dead. He braced himself to die like a true king in the final onslaught.

  A trumpet sounded three times, its call instantly turning the heads of the Angrääl soldiers. For a moment there was silence. The trumpet sounded again, reinforcing its message. The king watched in utter amazement as the soldiers first of all drew slowly back, then, as they passed over the fallen fence, turned and fled.

  Without pausing any longer to wonder at this development, Lousis rushed straight over to Maynard’s fallen body and knelt beside him. His eyes were barely open, and blood trickled from the corners of his mouth, staining his beard. The Angrääl blade still protruded from his belly. Seizing hold of the hilt, Lousis pulled it free. Maynard cried out in pain.

  “My friend,” said Lousis softly.

  Maynard looked up at the old king and smiled weakly. “My king. You were magnificent. I am honored to have seen you fight so bravely before I die.”

  Bellisia and Chiron stood over them, their faces grave.

  “Save him,” begged Lousis.

  Removing the staff Gewey had given to her from her back, Bellisia knelt and placed it over Maynard’s wound. For several minutes she was motionless, her eyes shut. “I can do nothing,” she finally said. “He has lost too much blood. I am sorry.”

  Lousis leapt up and grabbed one of his remaining soldiers. “Send for my physician. She is near the pavilion. Run as fast as your legs can carry you. Tell her she must hurry.”

  With a short nod, the soldier bolted off.

  Bellisia reached out and touched Lousis’ shoulder. “She will not arrive in time,” she whispered. “And there is no human medicine that can help him now.”

  Tears welled in the king’s eyes as he lowered his head. “I must try.” He sat beside Maynard and rested the man’s head on his lap.

  “I am ready,” said Maynard. His voice was distant and strained. “I have served enough.” He grasped hold of the king’s hand, his breaths now coming in labored gasps. “Please…let an old soldier rest.”

  Choking back his sobs, Lousis nodded, squeezing Maynard’s hand until it finally went limp. Reaching down, he gently closed the general’s dead eyes. “Goodbye, my old friend.”

  Lousis wiped his eyes, stood up, and gathered his remaining soldiers. “See that Lord Maynard’s body is taken inside the manor and cleaned,” he ordered two of them.

  He then turned to Bellisia and Chiron, who were already tending to the wounded. “When my physician arrives, have her assist you. I’m going to find out why we are still alive.”

  Lousis led the remainder of his men beyond the grounds and into the street. Cautiously, they followed the route along which the enemy had retreated. Some of the houses close to the manor were aflame. Clearly, Angrääl intended to leave nothing untouched.

  They made their way to the edge of the garden district and halted in the shadows. The streets leading to the market were jammed full with Angrääl soldiers, their massive numbers impeding their hasty progress.

  “They’re fleeing, your highness,” shouted one of his men with a combination of relief and confusion.

  “Perhaps,” said Lousis. “Or perhaps our reinforcements have arrived and they go to the greater fight.”

  They watched for a few more minutes before heading off in the direction of the pavilion. Everywhere they passed, the city seemed to be full of burning buildings and weeping people. The dead and dying littered every avenue, many of them calling out for help with their final breaths.

  On arriving at the command center, Lousis could see several captains and commanders already gathered. Among them was Lord Brasley Amnadon. The king had hoped to see Eftichis there as well, and immediately became concerned by his absence. Everyone saluted and bowed as he entered.

  “The enemy is in retreat,” announced Amnadon. His eyes were weary and his face smeared with blood. “I believe that Nehrutu has arrived. It is the only thing that can explain their pulling back. A few more hours and the city would have been all but lost.”

  “How many have died?” asked Lousis, not really wanting to hear the answer.

  “I don’t know, your highness,” he replied. “At least half the guard I would guess. But we made them pay. They lost far more than we. Had they not been able to smash the city gates so quickly...” His eyes burned. “I thought that only the elves and Darshan could achieve such a thing.”

  “If the description I heard was accurate,” said Lousis, “I don’t think it was caused by the same power as they possess. More likely it was some new weapon.”

  Lousis spotted the runner he had sent out to the west gate returning. He slid to a halt, out of breath. “Nehrutu has arrived your highness.”

  Lousis squeezed the boy’s arm in acknowledgement, then walked to the map. “Where are the rest of the men?”

  “When the enemy began to retreat I pulled them back to the southeast, near to the grain storehouses,” replied Amnadon. “We were in no condition to give pursuit.”

  “And what is their condition now?” he asked sternly.

  “They can resume the fight if you so command,” he replied, though with a hint of uncertainty.

&nb
sp; “Then have them attack at once,” Lousis ordered. “We will not lick our wounds while Nehrutu still fights.” He looked over all his commanders. “Gather your courage. Lord Maynard is slain. Let his name be our battle cry as we chase Angrääl back to the pits of hell.”

  The news of Maynard’s death caused everyone to stir. Tears filled nearly every eye. Faces twisted in anger and sorrow.

  Drawing his sword, Amnadon called out at the top of his voice.

  “Maynard!”

  His cry was taken up by all. Still chanting their dead general’s name, they stalked into the city to take their revenge. Lousis smiled inwardly at the honor and bravery of his people. But he could feel the pains seeping into his muscles, and his legs were growing heavier with every passing minute. Dragging himself over to a chair, he sat down hard and let out a long weary sigh. His head was swimming, and for a moment his vision blurred.

  “Are you all right, your highness?” asked a nearby soldier.

  Lousis forced a smile. There was no guard smothering him now, he noticed. With a heavy grunt, he pushed himself up to his feet. “Find some wine and drink with me,” he told the soldier. His legs wobbled, causing him to drop back down into the chair. “I am old and haven’t fought so hard in many years.” As the soldier ran off, Lousis caught a fresh scent of the flames engulfing his beloved city. He let out a mighty roar of anger.

  The soldier returned with the wine and they sat together briefly, drinking to the memory of those who had died. The cool liquid soothed Lousis’ throat and warmed his belly. He wondered if peace was now within reach, or whether his life would be forever plagued by war. After dismissing the soldier, he shouted for another bottle. He no longer cared to keep his wits. The taste of the wine helped to ease his mind a little, though it did nothing for the heaviness in his heart.