CHAPTER 61
Dilaf reached around the princess to press his dagger against her neck. Eventeo's eyes opened wide with horror.
Hrathen watched the dagger begin to slice Sarene's skin. He thought of Fjorden. He thought of the work he had done, the people he had saved. He thought of a young boy, eager to prove his faith by entering the priesthood. Unity.
'No!' Spinning, Hrathen drove his fist into Dilaf's face.
Dilaf stumbled for a moment, lowering his weapon in surprise. Then the monk looked up with rage and plunged the dagger at Hrathen's breast.
The knife slid off Hrathen's armor, scraping ineffectually along the painted steel. Dilaf regarded the breastplate with stunned eyes. -But, that armor is just for show…'
'You should know by now. Dilaf,' Hrathen said, bringing his armored forearm up and smashing it into the monk's face. Though the unnatural bone had resisted Hrathen's fist. it crunched with a satisfying sound beneath steel. 'Nothing I do is just for show.'
Dilaf fell, and Hrathen pulled the monk's sword free from its seabbard. 'Launch your ships. Eventeo!' he yelled. 'Fjorden's armies come not to dominate, but to massacre. Move now if you want to save your people!'
'Rag Domi!' Eventeo cursed, yelling for his generals. Then he paused. 'My daughter
'I will help the girl!' Hrathen snapped. 'Save your kingdom, you fool!'
Though Dakhor bodies were unnaturally quick, their minds recovered from shock no more quickly than those of regular men. Their surprise bought Hrathen a few vital seconds. He brought his sword up, shoving Sarene toward an alleyway and backing up to block the entrance.
The water held Raoden in a cool embrace. It was a thing alive: he could hear it calling in his mind. Come, it said, I give you release. It was a comforting parent. It wanted to take away his pain and sorrows, just as his mother had once done.
Come, it pled. You can finally give up.
No. Raoden thought. Not yet.
The Fjordells finished dousing the Elantrians with oil, then prepared their torches. During the entire process, Shuden moved his arms in restrained circular patterns, not inereasing their speed as he had the time at the fencing class. Lukel began to wonder if Shuden wasn't planning an assault at all, but simply preparing himself for the inevitable.
Then Shuden burst into motion. The young baron snapped forward. spinning like a dancer as he brought his fist around. driving it into the chest of a chanting warrior monk. There was an audible crack, and Shuden spun again, slapping the monk across the face. The demon's head spun completely around, his eyes bulging as his reinforced neck snapped.
And Shuden did it all with his eyes closed. Lukel couldn't be certain. but he thought he saw something else-a slight glow following Shuden's movements in the dawn shadows.
Yelling a battle cry-more to motivate himself than frighten his foes-Lukel grabbed the table leg and swung it at a soldier. The wood bounced off the man's helmet, but the blow was powerful enough to daze him, so Lukel followed it with a solid blow to the face. The soldier dropped and Lukel grabbed his weapon.
Now he had a sword. He only wished he knew how to use it.
The Dakhor were faster, stronger, and tougher, but Hrathen was more determined. For the first time in years, his heart and his mind agreed. He felt power-the same strength he had felt that first day when he had arrived in Arelon, confident in his ability to save its people.
He held them off, though just barely. Hrathen might not have been a Dakhor monk, but he was a master swordsman. What he lacked in comparative strength and speed he could compensate for in skill. He swung, thrusting his sword at a Dakhor chest, slamming it directly in between two bone ridges. The blade slid past enlarged ribs, piercing the heart. The Dakhor gasped, dropping as Hrathen whipped his sword free. The monk's companions, however, forced Hrathen to retreat defensively into the alleyway.
He felt Sarene stumbling behind him, pulling off her gag. 'There are coo many!' she said. 'You can't fight them all.'
She was right. Fortunately, a wave moved through the crowd of warriors. and Hrathen heard the sounds of battle coming from the other side. Eventeo's honor guard had joined the affray.
'Come on,' Sarene said. tugging his shoulder. Hrathen risked a glance behind him. The princess was pointing at a slightly ajar door in the building next to them. Hrathen nodded, battering away another attack, then turned to run.
Raoden burst from the water, gasping reflexively for breath. Galladon and Karata jumped back in surprise. Raoden felt the cool blue liquid streaming from his face. It wasn't water, but something else. Something thicker. He paid it little heed as he crawled from the pool.
'Sule!' Galladon whispered in surprise.
Raoden shook his head, unable to respond. They had expected him to dissolve-they didn't understand that the pool couldn't take him unless he wanted it to.
'Come.' he finally rasped, stumbling to his feet.
Despite Lukel's energetic assault and Shuden's powerful attack, the other townspeople simply stood and watched in dumb stupefaction. Lukel found himself
desperately fighting three soldiers; the only reason he stayed alive was because he did more dodging and running than actual attacking. When aid finally did come. it was given by an odd source: the women.
Several of Sarene's fencers snatched up pieces of wood or fallen swords and fell in behind Lukel, thrusting with more control and ability than he could even feign to know. The brunt of their onslaught was pushed forward by surprise, and for a moment Lukel thought they might actually break free.
Then Shuden fell, crying out as a sword bit into his arm. As soon as the Jindo's concentration broke. so did his war dance, and a simple club to the head knocked him from the battle. The old queen, Eshen, fell next, a sword rammed through her chest. Her horrible scream, and the sight of the blood streaming down her dress, unnerved the other women. They broke, dropping their weapons. Lukel took a long gash on the thigh as one of his foes realized he had no clue how to use his weapon.
Lukel yeIled in pain and fell to the cobblestones. holding his leg. The soldier didn't even bother to finish him off.
Raoden dashed down the side of the mountain at a horrifying pace. The prince leapt and scrambled, as if he hadn't been practically comatose just a few minutes earlier. One slip at this pace. one wrong step, and he wouldn't stop rolling until he hit the foot of the mountain.
'Doloken!' Galladon said, trying his best to keep up. At this rate they would reach Kae in a matter of minutes.
Sarene hid beside her unlikely rescuer, holding perfectly still in the darkness.
Hrathen looked up through the floorboards. He had been the one to spot the cellar door. pulling it open and shoving her though. Underneath they had found a terrified family huddled in the blackness. They had all waited quietly, tense. as the Dakhor moved through the house then left out the front door.
Eventually, Hrathen nodded. 'Let's go,' he said. reaching over to lift the trapdoor.
'Stay down here,' Sarene told the family. 'Don't come up until you absolutely have to.'
The gyorn's armor clinked as he climbed the steps, then peeked cautiously into the room. He motioned for Sarene to follow, then moved into the small kitchen at the back of the house. He began pulling off his armor, dropping its pieces to the floor. Though he gave no explanation. Sarene understood the action. The bloodred gyorn's armor was far too distinctive to be worth its protective value.