Sevenfold Sword: Unity Read online

  “Then that’s where we are going,” said Ridmark.

  He led the way down the hill, Oathshield burning with white fire in his right fist. Calliande came after him, staff glowing as she held the power of the Keeper ready to strike. Kalussa carried the Staff of Blades, and Tamara, the golden staff of Lord Amruthyr. Calem, Tamlin, and Krastikon had the Swords of Air, Earth, and Death ready. Magatai held his soulstone-empowered bronze sword, grinning like a madman, and Lord Rhomathar walked next to him. The Augurs came behind them, and Rilmeira stayed close to her mother, and Kyralion remained near her.

  Third walked at Ridmark’s side, her remaining short sword in hand. In her left hand, she carried a bronze war axe she had taken from one of the dead muridach berserkers. Ridmark wondered what had happened to her other sword. The gray elves now all had blue fire in their veins, but Third’s burned the brightest, and her eyes were filled with the flames.

  What had happened to her at the Sylmarus?

  If they lived through this, there would be time to discuss it later.

  They reached the back of the gray elven line, and the warriors began striding forward, keeping their formation. The archers advanced, still loosing shafts as they walked. The drums boomed from the muridach horde, and the ratmen let out a howling roar, striking spears and axes and swords against their shields.

  Still the gray elves kept walking. The muridachs’ taunts and shouts grew louder and more raucous, even as more of them fell to the arrows. The archers stopped releasing and slung their bows over their shoulders, drawing swords instead.

  “The gray elves are about to attack,” said Ridmark. “When they do, charge the Throne Guards.”

  “There are a few thousand muridach footmen between the Throne Guards and us,” said Krastikon.

  “It won’t matter,” said Ridmark. “The muridachs are about to get hit a lot harder than they expect, and when they do…”

  The gray elven army disappeared in a single brilliant flash of blue light.

  A heartbeat later, thousands of small flares of blue fire appeared throughout the muridach host.

  A shocked ripple went through the muridachs as thousands of them died at once, stabbed or slashed by the gray elven warriors. The blue flares appeared and reappeared, scattering through the muridach lines, and the rippling in the muridach formations grew worse as the ratmen tried to deal with the elusive threat. No matter how experienced the muridachs were, no matter how brutal the iron discipline the Great King had imposed upon them, they weren’t equipped to fight a foe that could travel from place to place in the blink of an eye.

  The entire front rank of the muridach army dissolved into chaos, the flickers of blue fire dancing through them as the gray elves disappeared and reappeared, killing with every jump.

  “Go!” said Ridmark.

  He broke into a jog, Oathshield raised before him, and the others followed. The orderly lines of the muridachs had collapsed into a seething, panicked mob, and some of them turned towards Ridmark, seeing a foe they could fight.

  He ran to meet them, and Calliande and Tamara unleashed their spells. The earth rippled like a banner caught in the wind, and dozens of muridachs fell. Ridmark charged into their midst and killed two before they could rise again. Blue fire flashed, and Third appeared behind a muridach soldier, driving her bronze axe into its neck. Before she had never been able to use her power within a hundred yards or so of one of the Seven Swords, but whatever had happened to her at the Sylmarus seemed to have removed that limitation. Two more muridachs turned towards her, and Third disappeared, reappeared behind them in a flash of blue fire, and killed them both.

  Ridmark heard a booming laugh and saw Magatai dueling a pair of muridach warriors, his lightning-wreathed sword dancing in his hands. Every time his sword touched theirs, arcs of lightning leaped into the muridachs and stunned them. Tamlin, Krastikon, and Calem charged into the battle, Krastikon leading with his glowing shield and drawing the attention of the enemy, while Calem and Tamlin cut down the muridachs. More blue fire flashed before Ridmark, and Kyralion appeared out of nothingness, drove his golden longsword into a muridach, and disappeared in another flash of blue flame before the nearby creatures could focus on him.

  Crystalline spheres shot past as Kalussa killed muridachs one by one, and the Augurs called their power, bolts of lightning falling from the sky to blast the ratmen. Ridmark wanted to tell them to save their power for the fight ahead. The Throne Guards and Qazaldhar would be far more challenging foes than the common muridach soldiers.

  Ahead Ridmark saw a flash of crimson armor. Another three or four hundred yards and they would reach the Great King and his defenders. In every direction, Ridmark saw the blue flashes of the gray elves as they killed, but he did not see any near the Throne Guards.

  Third appeared out of a swirl of blue fire next to him.

  “There is a problem,” she said, her cool voice a contrast to her burning eyes.

  “Just one?” said Ridmark.

  “A more serious one than the others,” said Third. “Whatever happened in the Sylmarus allowed me to transport through the blocking effect created by the Seven Swords.” Ridmark nodded. “There is a spell around the Throne Guards that is blocking my ability, and it will also block the ability of the gray elves.”

  “I can see it,” said Calliande. “It’s a ward, a powerful one. Qazaldhar must have cast it.”

  “Qazaldhar will rally the Throne Guards around the Great King,” said Ridmark, “and to use the Throne Guards to rally the rest of the muridach host.”

  “Yes,” said Third. “The logical course of action is to kill the Great King and the Maledictus.”

  “That’s what we’re here to do,” said Ridmark.

  He took a deep breath, trying to think. The muridach lines were collapsing as the gray elves tore through them. Yet the Throne Guards stood strong, protected by Qazaldhar’s magic against the gray elves’ newfound power to travel.

  There was only one thing to do.

  “We’ll have to go right through them,” said Ridmark, “and cut our way to Nerzamdrathus and Qazaldhar.”

  Tamara looked surprised. “Is that…is that wise, Lord Ridmark?”

  “Probably not,” said Ridmark.

  “Do not worry, Tamara Earthcaller!” said Magatai, grinning as he lifted his lightning-wreathed sword. “Though our numbers are few, our valor shall give our blows the strength of ten men!”

  “We also have three of the Seven Swords,” said Tamlin, “and the Shield Knight, and the Keeper, and the five Augurs of the Liberated. It has to be us, or it’s no one.”

  “Yes,” said Ridmark, and he lifted Oathshield and concentrated on his link to the sword.

  It was time.

  One heartbeat passed, and then another, and another.

  And then strength flooded through him as he unlocked the power of the Shield Knight.

  Oathshield erupted with white flame, the fire pouring over his body. The flames hardened into plate armor the same color as the soulblade. The helmet covered Ridmark’s head, though it did not impair his vision, and the armor felt like it weighed nothing, though it could deflect anything short of a ballista bolt. The armor made him faster and stronger and blocked magical attacks. With the power of the Shield Knight, Ridmark was nearly invincible.

  Though against foes with the power of Nerzamdrathus and Qazaldhar, nearly invincible might not be enough.

  And it would only last a short time. Ridmark could keep his grip upon that mighty power for a brief time, and when his grip failed, he could not call that power again for twenty-four hours. The exhaustion would have been crippling, if not for the magical bracer that Antenora had made him.

  He only had a few minutes. Ridmark had to put them to good use.

  “What did you do?” said Athadira, astonished.

  “Straight through them until we reach the Great King and the Maledictus,” said Ridmark.

  He did not wait for an answer but sprinted forward, and he heard
the others following him.

  ###

  The final few muridach warriors melted away, and Calliande saw the Throne Guards.

  There were hundreds of the hulking muridachs, and her Sight showed the corruptive blood sorcery on their crimson armor. Around them, she saw the dome of Qazaldhar’s warding spell to block magical travel and the snarling locus of dark magic around the Maledictus himself. Calliande had fought Qazaldhar to a standstill in Cathair Valwyn and the Blue Castra of Trojas.

  Perhaps the third battle would be decisive, one way or another.

  But before they could reach the Maledictus, they had to go through the Throne Guards.

  “Tamara,” said Calliande, and Tamara nodded and began her spell. “When I give the word.”

  She watched as Ridmark shot towards the Throne Guards in a blur. Tamlin, Calem, and Krastikon were right behind him, and Third, Kyralion, and Magatai a half-step behind them. The air snarled with magical power around Third and Kyralion and Rilmeira.

  “Now!” said Calliande.

  She cast her spell, and Tamara did the same.

  The earth folded and rippled, and a score of Throne Guards were knocked off their feet.

  Ridmark crashed into them like a missile, moving so fast he became a blue blur in his armor. Tamlin, Krastikon, and Calem attacked then, aiming their blows at the joints in the Guards’ spell-reinforced armor. Magatai loosed a wailing Takai war cry and charged, and Rilmeira and the Augurs cast spells. Blasts of lightning screamed down from the sky, knocking the Throne Guards from their feet. Kalussa began flinging crystalline spheres from the Staff of Blades. The sorcery-enhanced armor of the Throne Guards was strong enough to deflect the spheres, but the impact of Kalussa’s attacks knocked the creatures from their feet, letting Ridmark or one of the others finish them off.

  Calliande drew together power for another spell, and then dark magic surged before her Sight in a vicious torrent. Was Qazaldhar casting another spell? No, the surge came from many individual wizards working spells of dark magic.

  The priests of the Lord of Carrion were about to join the battle.

  “Athadira!” called Calliande, abandoning her spell of earth magic and summoning the power of the Well of Tarlion.

  “We see them!” said Athadira, lightning snarling around her golden staff.

  “Strike against them,” said Calliande, her voice tight with strain and concentration as the magic burned through her. “I will defend…”

  The dark magic reached a climax, and Calliande was out of time. She cast her warding spell, and a dome of white light rose over them just in time to deflect a howling barrage of black flames. The muridach priests had not joined their power to cast a spell but had thrown dozens of individual attacks. Calliande gritted her teeth, her jaw flaring with pain as she deflected the volley of dark magic. She almost would have preferred a single massive attack rather than dozens of individual strikes. Perhaps the carrion priests thought to overwhelm her defense through sheer numbers.

  But her ward held against the attack, and Athadira and the Augurs struck back. The High Augur raised her staff, and blasts of lightning fell from the sky, landing somewhere behind the struggling Throne Guards. Calliande saw several of the dark auras of the priests wink out as the elemental magic killed them.

  But the other priests were casting spells, and Calliande forced more magic through her exhausted mind, preparing another ward.

  ###

  The Throne Guards were far more disciplined and skilled fighters than the rest of the muridach soldiers, and Tamlin had to change his tactics. The Guards had realized the power of the Sword of Earth’s deadly edge, and they spread out around him, giving each other enough room to maneuver. Under other circumstances, Tamlin would have hit them with lightning bolts, stunning them long enough to strike, but their spell-augmented armor let them shrug off elemental attacks.

  But Tamlin had other tricks he had learned over the years.

  He cast a spell of elemental air, one to use the wind to make himself faster, and with a surge of speed, he hurtled towards the nearest Throne Guard. The muridach’s blade blurred towards his head, and Tamlin ducked, the sword missing the top of his helmet by about an inch. He stabbed the Sword of Earth with both hands as he ran, and the blade sheared through the gap in the armor below the muridach’s arm.

  The unfortunate muridach fell to the ground, the red armor clattering.

  Tamlin turned, raced forward, and cast a variant on the same spell. He leaped, and the magic of elemental air lifted him. He shot over the heads of the Throne Guards, who looked at him in astonishment, and he landed next to Sir Calem, who battled three of the Guards. Tamlin landed and attacked from behind, cutting down one of the Throne Guards. Calem seized the opening and twisted to the side, the Sword of Air slicing through the neck of another Guard in a silvery blur. Next to him Krastikon raised his shield, caught the blow of a Guard’s blade, and stabbed the Sword of Death into the muridach’s face. He yanked the sword free as the Guard fell.

  Tamlin tried to catch his breath, and another Throne Guard charged at him, sword raised for a strike. He started to step back, but the Throne Guard went rigid and jerked as Magatai appeared behind him, plunging his sword through a gap into the crimson armor. The armor deflected elemental magic, but it did no good once Magatai’s blade was in the muridach’s flesh, and the Throne Guard jerked as the sword lightning ripped into its heart.

  The Sword of Earth took off the muridach’s head with a single blow, and the creature collapsed.

  “Thanks,” said Tamlin.

  Magatai grinned. “Tamara Earthcaller would be disappointed if you were killed.”

  There was another blast of blue fire across the sky, followed by a volley of lightning bolts. Tamlin looked to the south and saw Ridmark cut down three more Throne Guards. The Shield Knight moved in a blur of blue metal and white fire. Ridmark did not bother to block the blows of his enemies. They rebounded from that strange plate armor without leaving a scratch, and he cut down muridach after muridach.

  Then Tamlin saw Nerzamdrathus and Qazaldhar.

  The Great King strode towards the fighting, clad in his crimson armor. He was so much larger and wider than the other muridachs that he looked like an ambulatory metal boulder. That huge black sword waited in his right hand, a crimson haze snarling around the weapon. Next to him glided Qazaldhar, his face and his remaining hand hidden in the black cowl and sleeves of his robe. The Sign of the New God hung against his chest, glowing with blue fire. A shadow circled overhead, and Tamlin looked up to see the Scythe, her longsword of dark elven steel in her right hand, shadow and blue flame dancing around the talons of her left.

  Throne Guards followed Nerzamdrathus, and Tamlin saw dozens of muridach priests behind Qazaldhar. All the carrion priests wore their crimson cowls and carried staffs adorned with the mummified heads of muridachs.

  “That is a lot of Throne Guards,” said Krastikon, the ward around his shield glowing with purple light.

  “Excellent!” said Magatai. “That will make it harder to miss!”

  White light caught the corner of Tamlin’s eye, and he looked to the side as Ridmark joined him. Nerzamdrathus was huge, and while the Shield Knight was shorter, his blue armor had the same sort of solidity to it. Third and Kyralion came up behind him. Only a faint blue glow now came from Kyralion’s veins, but Third’s eyes still blazed with it.

  “Calliande will deal with Qazaldhar,” said Ridmark, his helm making his voice metallic. “It will be up to us to handle Nerzamdrathus. Krastikon, if you get close enough, try to take down Qazaldhar. If we can trap one of the Maledicti, it will be a heavy blow against the Masked One and the New God.”

  “If it can be done,” said Krastikon, “I shall do it.”

  “Shield Knight!” called Qazaldhar, his rotting voice ringing over the melee. “Come to meet your end at last?”

  “What do you think, Nerzamdrathus?” shouted Ridmark. “Do you believe that the Maledictus is a false prophet n
ow? Else why would he have brought you to such ruin?”

  “The battle is not over yet,” said the Great King, his deep voice making Tamlin’s teeth vibrate. The huge muridach raised his sword. “The Lord of Carrion rewards his faithful. When I crack your armor open and feast upon your flesh, think upon your folly. Take them!”

  Nerzamdrathus roared and charged forward, flanked by his Throne Guards, and Qazaldhar and the muridach priests began casting spells.

  ###

  “Stay close to me,” said Calliande to the others. “My wards can hold back Qazaldhar, and I will hold his attention so Krastikon can attack him. Try to kill as many of the muridach priests as possible. The fewer of them hitting our defenses, the better.”

  For once, Athadira and the other Augurs did not argue. Perhaps they knew that Calliande’s strategy was the best chance they had of winning this fight. Or maybe Athadira’s Sight revealed the raw power of the Maledictus of Death. Then again, the gray elves had already seen Qazaldhar’s might on the day that he had turned his magic against the Sylmarus and laid the plague curse on the Liberated. The Maledictus of Death was a foe with the power to shake even Athadira’s invincible arrogance.

  The Augurs, Kalussa, Rilmeira, and Tamara all began casting spells. The Augurs flung blasts of lighting into the muridach priests, as did Rilmeira, forcing the carrion priests to turn their attention to their defense. Tamara cast veils of acidic mist, stunning and burning the muridachs. Kalussa threw crystalline spheres wreathed in elemental flame, hammering at the warding spells around the priests.

  Calliande focused on Qazaldhar, holding her power ready to attack or to defend as needed. The Maledictus drew together a vast current of necromantic power, the magic rotten and corrupt to Calliande’s Sight. Qazaldhar’s remaining hand shot forward, green light shining around his decaying fingers, and an enormous wall of rippling viridian mist erupted from the earth and rolled towards them.

  She had seen this attack before. Qazaldhar had used it at both Cathair Valwyn and the Blue Castra. It was a spell of necromantic magic, a plague mist that would sicken and poison anyone it touched. Once infected by the plague mist, a victim would be in too much pain to fight and would die in agony within a few moments.