The Beauty of Darkness (The Remnant Chronicles 3) - Page 168

He turned and walked back to his horse.

The rage came, blinding, bright, consuming.

“Send Zekiah!” I yelled.

“I will, Princess. I always keep my word.”

KADEN

I handed Yvet to a soldier. She choked on sobs, but there was no time to comfort her. “Take her to Natiya,” I said.

Lia had set up a camp outside the valley for whatever children we could capture. Gwyneth, Pauline, and more soldiers were there. Natiya spoke the language and would reassure them that they wouldn’t be harmed—and hopefully help comfort them—assuming we were able to get any more of them out of the valley alive.

I got back on my horse, watching Lia step closer to the Komizar. It was madness. I surveyed the cliffs. Watched the wall of the army poised to attack. Watched and waited and knew this was not just a parley. It was tearing nerves loose. The slow draw of a knife over skin. A stalking howl in a forest. The horses stamped, knowing, nervous.

“Shhh,” I whispered.

Make them suffer.

This was the Komizar, doing what he did best.

RAFE

I finally breathed as the Komizar rode away and Lia got back on her horse.

Zekiah was delivered as promised, whole and alive. He was rushed out of the valley to wait with Yvet. I had been expecting the worst, pieces perhaps, as the Komizar liked to threaten, but he always knew how to turn the moment. To plant doubt.

Lia had warned me he knew there were troops up in the ruins, and I sent soldiers to alert them. He may have known they were there, but he didn’t know exactly where they would charge from, or how many of them there were. It was a long valley, and when the Viceregent had escaped, he only knew of me and my hundred men—not about the whole Dalbreck army.

The cloud rolled toward us again, but this time with ravenous hunger. I felt the thunder of its feet, both human and animal, but united as one raging beast. I sensed our troops tensing, ready to spring. I stretched out my left arm, a signal to hold. Hold.

“You’re sure he’ll send them first?” I asked Lia. With the high hills around us, dusk was already closing in.

Lia’s knuckles whitened. One hand clenched her reins, and the other, her hilt. “Yes. Him using Yvet and Zekiah is proof. He knows me. He knows what will unsettle our soldiers and make them hesitate. We are not like him.”

We watched them get closer, and their features came into view at last, lines of soldiers, ten deep, a hundred across. None of them older than Eben or Natiya. Most much younger. They held halberds, swords, axes, and knives. As they advanced, I saw their faces, wild, barely recognizable as children anymore.

I signaled the shield guard to move forward into position. “Shields up!” I ordered. Their shields interlocked with practiced precision. “Archers forward!” Orrin called.

And then the first of the brezalots charged.

LIA

The prodded animal streaked past their front lines, heading toward the shield guard. The ballistas tucked above us moved to the ridges, ratcheted, cocked, and ready. I watched them turn, aiming. Tavish waited with distressing patience and finally signaled the two with the best angles. “Fire!” The iron spears flew. One missed, but the other was a perfect shot, spearing the animal in its shoulder. The brezalot stumbled, fell, and then the earth exploded a safe distance away, meadow, horse, and blood, raining down, the pieces still on fire. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air.

And then another brezalot came.

And another.

The second was downed, but the third was only grazed by the iron spear, and charged into the shield guard. There was a scramble to get away, but it was too late. It exploded, leaving a gaping hole surrounded by dead bodies and pieces of beast. Orrin and his archers were knocked to the ground by the blast. Rafe and infantry rushed forward to help them, and the Komizar used the resulting chaos to send his brigade of child soldiers forward to further demoralize us.

“Retreat!” I yelled, loud and frantic, so even the Komizar would hear. “Retreat!”

Our lines hobbled back, the guard holding their shields in disarray, but the infantry behind us moved into position. Ready.

I watched. Breathless. Waiting. Drawing on patience I didn’t know I had. The shield guards staggered back. The child soldiers bore down on them, charging down the middle of the valley toward us.

“Retreat!” I shouted again. The Vendan troops behind the children stalled, waiting for their young soldiers to add to our chaos before they moved in with their heavy weapons. I watched, my heart hammering, and then when the last of the children crossed a designated line, I yelled, “Now!”

Tags: Mary E. Pearson The Remnant Chronicles Fantasy
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