Traitors are hated even by those whom they prefer.
- Tacitus
Jera held a shield made of magical force in one hand and a slim blade in the other. Her loyal guards were armed and armored less conspicuously wielding short swords and the armor consisted of delicate chain mail worn beneath a surcoat. The knights that stood beside Carl were armored in heavy chain or mail and wielded swords or even halberds. The light snowfall whirled around the scene and the nobles had divided into several factions seeking to either help the prince or escape as not many of them knew the exact situation.
The awnings protecting the ranks were torn from falling debris and the airship lay beside the stadium while undead troops debarked. Flames and lightning flashed from branded and mages but the spells were few and far between, the whole area was saturated with void magic which bolstered the undead and the few void mages but harmed everyone else.
Screams, shouts, and the clash of weapons the roar of an enraged wight echoing with unearthly resonance the scene was pure chaos. The reinforcements from the city should arrive any minute now.
“Princess, hurry! We have to get you to safety.” Jera urged the dazed Lieseleta who visibly fought to contain herself.
They saw the prince make a gesture and the minister who had been near the king was forced to the ground and shackles closed around his hands as he shouted impotently. Several courtiers that had taken shelter on the royal platform threw each other discrete glances and then ostentatiously praised the second prince for his decisive actions.
----------------------------------------
“Pathetic.” Tharus Iram looked at the defending guardsmen that stood in their way, “But this is the end of the fight for me.” He knew he was monologing but what of it? The years in the company of mindless undead in the city of broken ivory had left their mark. He shoved the broken thing that had once been Vadislav and grinned mirthlessly. “Do try to die a good death will you?” He half-turned and looked at the robed and masked Poroskar. “You will accompany me. I am sure that my mistress will have further use for you. Ah, what a pity.” He licked the blood from his mailed fists while he looked at the human troops with longing. Grimacing with displeasure he then spoke a spell and a cloud of darkness shrouded them from view and with its passing the vampire and the blood mage were gone.
----------------------------------------
Magister Illimen plunged down toward the fleeing civilians pursuing the specter made of darkness and flames. Wind and snow whipped past and the earth tilted crazily as he strove to keep up with the incorporeal being. Tapping an amulet around his neck he flung a net made of silvery energy toward his foe. The net entangled the spirit and bright white flames flared where the strings touched the roiling void energies.
The specter turned and black empty sockets, surrounded by dark flames, gazed back at him before its claws tore into the delicate web ripping it apart. Drathur smiled grimly. It had been worth a try but capturing the thing directly, while tempting, had never been his primary intention. Keeping it away from the fleeing men and women was much more important. He gestured and golden flames formed like an arrow shot from his hand impacting the struggling creature. The gold overwhelmed the darkness for a moment and a gaping wound opened in its spectral torso but soon void gushed forth and closed the injury.
The female corpse still faintly visible in the flames turned around and shot toward the Magister as she drew near she opened her fanged jaw and billowing darkness spilled forth accompanied by a groaning like boulders grinding together.
Under the onslaught of void energies, Illimen paled and gestured opening a time-sealed spell that covered his form in a bubble of golden flames. Drawing a sigil in the air he shouted “Come forth Abrigar.” Flames with eyes of gold shaped like a large salamander erupted from the seal and directly assaulted the spirit. Claws of flame met darkly flickering energies and the two tumbled rapidly toward the ground.
With trembling hands and a pale complexion that made him seem aged beyond his years, the Magister pulled a flask from his hip and drank quickly grimacing at the taste before new strength flooded his body.
His elemental fared badly against the wraith and soon the formerly brilliant flames became dull and spotty.
Returning to his side with a flick of its tail Abrigar the fire elemental cowered behind Magister Illimen who had recovered some of his strength. Hovering dozens of meters in the air he surveyed the burning wreck of the airship and the battling undead. He raised his gaze at the spirit that floated before him and noticed that it too was heavily damaged by the fighting so far.
Gathering power from the gate to the elemental plane of fire heat burst from his form in a wave melting the snow on the ground far below. The specter did not wait for him to finish and shot forward to assault him directly a skull blazed whitely in the dark flames and sharp teeth strove to rend his neck. His elemental coiled around the foe and dragged her back before a cut from long claws dispersed its form and banished it back to its plane of origin.
However, the time was well spent as Illimen had formed a splinter of true fire blazing like a piece of the sun. The heat was enough to melt steel and several protective runes on his robes flared with actinic light. Gesturing, the splinter shot forth and impaled the undead creature before it softly began to burn with golden light slowly disintegrating. Screams that made the ears of the soldiers and civilians below bleed echoed over the battlefield.
The violence of the fight over their heads distracted some people but the undead pouring out of the wreck were not deterred by such matters. Supported by spells woven by the necromancers accompanying them they were a force to be reckoned with and dozens of guards and some knights had already paid the final price.
----------------------------------------
Mireille flashed forward and executed a tight whirl with a blade made of lightning and severed the head of the wight that had fought its way to their position before she jumped back again. The skeleton draped in a thin layer of mummified flesh fell as its necrotic energies discharged like a fountain from the fatal wound.
Alyssa gestured and a tentacle of void energy entangled a Nordmark soldier rapidly draining his life as his struggles weakened.
Alea spoke another spell and warm light streamed from her hand bathing a squad of soldiers led by Kettra giving them renewed energy and closing small wounds.
Mireille gasped and felt for the cut across her stomach and was reassured that it was only long and not deep. Blood had long soaked her clothes, some her own, most from the ones she had fought.
“The king is wounded!” A cry came from behind them and they saw the second prince standing on the royal platform giving orders.
“Lieseleta!” Alea realized the problem immediately her face was unsteadily lit by some burning cloth lying behind them. “We have to rescue her before Carl does something to her!”
“We cannot leave here! The students are pressed desperately and the guards are already faltering. At least wait until the reinforcements arrive.” Alyssa looked conflicted as she said that.
“Iseret! Can you help her?” Alea turned to the snake-woman and pleaded.
“I will do my best. Rest assured.” The woman smiled gently and shook some blood from her dirks. Turning around she quickly ascended the terraced ranks. The heating formations had been broken here and there and the cold assaulted her body. Shivering she quickened her pace and soon she saw Jera and Lieseleta with their escorts surrounded by several guards and knights.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
----------------------------------------
“Halt! You are suspected of having harmed the king. The crown prince demands your surrender.”
“The crown prince is dead. There is no one who can rightfully command you to detain me. The children are equal until there is a verified heir!” Lieseleta sounded hoarse and tired and her eyes were red and puffy but she held herself with dignity as she retorted.
“If you don’t come willingly we will use force. This is your last warning!” Some of his underlings looked conflicted at that.
“We stand besieged by undead and you play petty palace politics! The one who harmed my father is none other than Carl Askander. I saw it, my guards saw it, you probably saw it. The prime minister was there! How can you stand it!” Lieseleta lost her composure and tears ran down her cheeks, golden hair dusted with snow.
“Grab them, the princess must not die, the rest are irrelevant!” The knight commanding the group shouted.
“That will get ugly.” Iseret softly muttered and then began to pray, “You who are many and one, great mother grant me your blessing, wake the divine poison in my veins, let me be the instrument of your wrath!” Darkness spread along her blood vessels and as she coughed black blood flowed from her teeth and lips. She licked along her dirks covering them in venom before silently stalking near.
Vanessa sighed with relief she was just in time. Why would this blockhead try to do everything on her own?
Jera spoke a short spell and metallic skin formed over her arms she brandished the slim blade she had been allowed as the knight assigned to the princess. A burly man in chain armor wearing a simple helm with a nose guard black beard bristling slammed a mace at her shield trying to overwhelm her with brute might. A low hum and a small shockwave threw him back as the magical shield simply reflected a part of the power. Snow flew up in a small circle and the female knight smiled grimly, she had a few surprises left but it was probably the end of the line for them.
Lieseleta concentrated and formed glyphs around her right wrist before raising her arm, the glyphs lighted up one by one as each accumulated power from the surroundings, she gasped as she felt the corruption of void energies ravage her vitality but held on grimly. Activating the glyphs in turn she loosed bolts of golden light that burned and blinded the attackers.
Iseret jumped forward slashing and stabbing into the backs of the soldiers. Crying out in pain the ranks became disordered and the beleaguered protective detail regained a bit of momentum. Those injured by her blades began to tremble and shake before frothing at the mouth and fainting.
“Kryos, Toma get her! The rest, capture the princess!” The knight commanding the group shouted. He was a well-muscled man in his late thirties with an ornamented half-plate crusted with gems. He did not take part in the fighting and held himself well behind the lines accompanied by two guards that seemed to be privately hired their well-used armor seemed to be without insignia.
A knight and a guard turned to confront Iseret, the knight swung a battleaxe and used his free hand to either get a two-handed grip or use his brand. Flames gushed forth and burned along the snake woman's left side as she dodged barely getting clear. Grinning the bearded man stroked his left hand along the double-bladed axhead lighting it on fire. With a whooshing sound, he twirled the weapon menacingly. The guard was an older woman that tried to keep Iseret occupied and off-balance, the two worked well together and the snake woman had neither the reach of her khopesh and the cold weather was also working to her disadvantage making her more sluggish and slowing her down.
Lieseleta bit into her lower lip and blood ran down her chin as she again cast another spell showering her guardians in warmth and light. Jera sighed in relief as a deep cut underneath her eye stopped bleeding.
The commanding knight facing them hit one of his guards on the shoulder, “We don’t have much time. Kill the snake and then help the others.”
Some instinct made him turn around but at that moment he felt something brush against his side and looking down he saw a delicate and beautiful elven face with softly glowing blue-green eyes. Startled and dazed he was lost in those catlike orbs before a cold pain woke him fully- but then it was too late as blood gushed from the deep cut across his throat. Stumbling back he tried to staunch the bleeding his breath rasping as he tried to call for help.
The mercenary that had stayed whirled around and only saw a small figure rushing at him. He tried to impale her on his sword but claws of dark ice batted his blade aside as a sudden billow of mist covered them. Seeing nothing he nervously slashed into the white empty air then teeth bit deep into his throat. Warmth rushed from him and his limbs became weaker and weaker. His desperate struggle to remove the vampire from his neck became uncoordinated and soon stopped.
Iseret feinted her dirk at the guardswoman and suddenly spat a stream of poison which her victim barely dodged cursing as some droplets burned into her skin, meanwhile a poisoned dirk grazed her unprotected calf. The knight screamed a battle cry and slashed at Iseret both hands gripping the haft of his axe. Bending back she nearly touched the ground with her flowing hair. Iseret grimaced as she felt a burn on her left biceps as the flames flashed across her skin. Hissing she flicked her wrist throwing one of her dirks lefthanded. The blade sunk deep into the knight's stomach causing him to grunt in pain. While he stumbled back she quickly grasped the handle and retrieved her weapon. Both of her foes stumbled and the guard fell heavily to her knees before toppling over. The man tore a potion vial from his belt and having pulled the cork with his teeth quickly gulped down the concoction. But this distracted him long enough for two additional cuts on his left wrist. Cursing feebly he fell and did not rise again.
“Vanessa!” Iseret’s eyes lit up as she saw her friend.
Several of the royal guards drew back from the fighting and a burly man with greying dark hair shouted, “Withdraw! Casualties like this serve no one at the moment. Let us clear out the insurgents and undead first.” The guards looked at each other in tacit understanding.
The knights that were now in a steadily worsening position stopped fighting and fell back. Jera was severely wounded and two of her men were dead. Lieseleta looked wan and pale after the ordeal of channeling void tainted mana. Even Iseret had some cuts on her tunic and upper arms. A large man with a mace and chain spat and cursed. “The king will hear of this! As soon as he takes the throne you will get what's coming to you!”
“The king? So he has survived?” A female voice melodious but somewhat cold sounded behind them. Heloise von Margrinar walked up to them and even as her poise was still perfect deep fatigue and some burns on her clothes showed the fighting she had been through.
“Aunt Heloise! He killed him. Carl killed father!” Lieseleta burst into tears.
Golden eyes looked at her niece and sadness flashed briefly before her cold demeanor returned. “I know. Is everyone here a rebel?” She calmly asked the assembled knights and guards. “Anyone in doubt about serving a kingslayer?” Put so bluntly even the burly knight that had just been cursing was taken aback.
“No! I serve the kingdom and the law!” A knight in the colors of Saltmarsh took a step to the side separating from the rest.
“Is it true?!” A soft voice asked. A young royal guard looked at Heloise his face anguished.
“It is true. He sent me a message before his death.” Heloise seemed calm but her hands gripped the rod she wielded until the knuckles turned white.
Flames rose to the sky as a fireball from the reinforcing cavalry impacted the undead troops. Smoke rose in large plumes from the burning sky-ship. The blood creatures ravaged the guards that stood against them while the Nordmark troops began to assemble a defensive perimeter.
“Sweet Yrgos what a mess. He should be laughing his ass off just about now.” An older royal guard spat and walked over where the Saltmarsh knight was standing. Cold winds whipped around them.
Another knight also came to a conclusion nodded and joined the two. More and more of them left until only two knights and one royal guard remained where they had originally been standing.
Heloise looked at the royal platform and saw a group of knights and royal guards reinforced by the nobles from the Nordmark faction and the second prince's supporters. “We have to gather some men and then take this further. If we let them consolidate their power it will be all but impossible for justice to be done.” She raised her hand and spoke a complicated spell, glyphs wove a cage around a shining mass of light energy and soon all of them were bathed in pure energy lifting their fatigue and closing wounds. “You.” She looked at the last holdouts. “Make yourself scarce. If you are intelligent you will simply leave, if you are the idiots you seem to be please go up there and join them.”
The two knights shouldered their weapons gave them a venomous look and hurried up the steps. The royal guard turned and walked away.
Heloise turned her golden eyes on the group and lingered on Vanessa before facing Iseret and saying, "You are the maid of Alea am I right?" Without waiting for a reply she continued, "Get your mistress and her friends and any mages that can be gathered quickly then return."
Iserete looked at Vanessa who nodded and both vanished into the deepening gloom as the last rays of the sun vanished.