Aelethia's Hope. Leandra Martin
Dain, despite the reassurances Sol had given her. She knew that if Dain still felt the same about her, Drydon Keep could very well become her permanent home, and that thought pleased her, but thoughts of Lachlan Castle went through her mind as well, and it brought her sadness. She knew from her run in with Fallon in her mind that Lucan was dead but had no idea how many others had perished in the siege from his troops. What if Lachlan was gone forever, and she never saw it or those that she grew up with ever again? There had already been so many deaths, so much destruction. She didn’t even know if the city of Kingswell still stood. It had been such a beautiful city, shiny and proud. The rolling meadows of the nearby hills, the vast farmlands and the rivers and streams that ran through them. She felt choked up all of a sudden, then it subsided and anger took its place. Fallon would have much to answer for. She was pulled out of her thoughts by a hand on her shoulder. She turned toward Tomaz, who had reined in beside her. He had to speak up over the rain.
“Melenthia, there are several horses headed this direction from the west. I saw them an hour ago but was not sure if they would turn off and head south. I saw them again approximately twenty minutes ago. They were trying to stay hidden behind the ridge, but I spotted them. They are hiding. I believe they are waiting to ambush us.”
“Who are they? Could you tell from here what colors they wore?”
“I’m afraid so, Lady. They wear the green and black of Fallon. I believe he used your mind last night to locate you exactly, and he plans on taking you out here in the open.”
“I blocked him out.”
“Apparently not fast enough.”
“Great, now what?”
“We will try to get closer to the lake and stay there as long as possible.”
“That’s too much in the open. They’ll be able to see us there with no trees to protect us.”
“True, but since the forest is sparse here and will disappear completely in only a few leagues, we will be unprotected anyway. If we stay close to the lake, we’ll have a better vantage point in order to see them coming. We must press on. The faster we get you to the city gates, the safer you’ll be. Out here you are too vulnerable.”
They pressed their horses into a gallop. The rain was still coming down in sheets, the huge drops splashing the road and spraying mud up their backs. They made it halfway down the shoreline of the lake when a group of black and green livery men appeared from the direction they were headed. Melenthia pulled her reins back, surprised by their presence. Obviously the men behind them were a decoy for the real ambush right in front of them. Tomaz halted his mount as well and looked over his shoulder. Sol came forward and reined in next to her.
“There are seven of them. Can we take them?” she asked, unsure that they could.
“Yes. Stay alert and calm. Use your training to keep your body and your mind focused. Tanith will do the rest.” He turned back to the front, and the three of them rode forward slowly.
Melenthia pulled Tanith from its scabbard and made ready her attack. The sword vibrated its song up her arm, calming her spirit and loaning its strength. The sword was such a pale color now that she almost couldn’t see it in her hand. This is what Tanith was, an extension of her raw power and strength, a tool in which to pour her spirit into. The three of them moved forward as a fluid group, keeping alert for adversaries that could come from behind while they were occupied with the frontal assault.
The group of men started to gallop forward when they saw the three were not going to run. The enemy raised their weapons and kicked their mounts into a harder gallop. Melenthia pressed her heels harder into her stirrups and wrapped the reins tighter around her free hand. She breathed in and out, calming herself and letting Tanith’s power surge through her body and mind. When the two parties reached each other, things exploded and happened quickly.
One of the men came at her, swinging over his head with his sword in order to knock her from her mount. She stayed in the saddle and parried with an attack of her own. She swung under as he passed and struck him across the shoulder where the chest piece and arm pieces of his mail connected. She heard the chink ring in her ears and watched him unsteadily slip from his saddle. He was stunned but ready for her attack again. She turned her mount sharply to the left and headed back in the direction she had come. She had Tanith over her head, ready to swing down at him as he braced for the attack. His sword was ready, and he had his feet as firmly planted into the rain soaked ground as he could. She galloped toward him, changing direction at the last instant in order to catch him off guard. He wasn’t ready for the switch, and she sliced down and cut him on the left side as he swung to protect his right side to no avail.
She was able to slice him on the shoulder again, severing an artery in his neck. The man fell forward, blood streaming down his tabard and into the mud, steaming as the warmth of it touched the cold wet ground. She swung around and headed back into the fray. Tomaz had taken down two with his bow already, Sol was finishing off another. He had put a paralyzing spell on him and she could see the guard’s body stiffen just long enough for Sol to cut him down with a sword she hadn’t known he had. He must have stolen it off of one of the fallen knights. The guard he was dealing with slumped over sideways, bleeding out into the sodden road.
She galloped toward them and headed for another guard who was heading in her direction. She knew the guards wanted her alive, therefore, would try to capture her instead of killing her. They had been instructed to grab her and take her back to Fallon. It infuriated her that he was too cowardly to come after her himself, but at least she knew his men, out of fear of harming her, would be easier to take down. She used that to her advantage. The next guard who was approaching her fast was large and bulky, his shoulders wider than her mounts. He galloped toward her, and, as he reached her, he surprised her by halting his horse directly in front of hers, spooking it, the mount tossing her over his head as it slid to a stop. She tumbled to the muddy ground and immediately tucked herself into a roll and got to her feet before he could reach her. Mud dripped down her back, rain dripping into her eyes. She wiped it away with the back of a hand. She lifted Tanith, the power from the blade warming the skin of her face, thawing out her frozen wet cheeks. The guard galloped past her and swung down. His heavy broadsword slammed against Tanith and the force of it caused a vibration so strong she felt her arms shake in protest. She fought to hang on to the weapon, asking Tanith to hold on longer. The vibration stopped, but her head still rang. He took that opportunity to come at her again. She shook her head to clear the ringing in her ears and prepared for the attack. He stood himself up in his stirrups and leaned over to the left in order to get a better swing. He swung his broadsword down and caught her under her arm. She was able to fend off the bulk of the attack with a parry, slicing him across the neck, cutting his jugular, but not without damage. She felt a searing pain flame up under her arm. As she watched him fall heavily from his saddle into the mud below, she felt a trickle of warmth run down her side. She placed a hand across her lower rib cage and felt dampness and warmth on her palm right through her glove. She pulled her hand away and looked at it. It was red and steaming with blood. She pulled off her now soaked glove and replaced her bare hand back to her side, putting pressure on the wound. She looked over the scene and saw that the last man had been dealt with by Tomaz, him too falling to the sticky muddy rain soaked ground. She trudged her way through the muck, blood seeping through her fingers, leaving a red droplet trail in her wake.
Tomaz saw her approaching and looked down, seeing the trail she was leaving and frowned at her in dismay. He dismounted his horse and raced toward her, his agile lithe body practically floating over the puddles. When he reached her he immediately removed her hand from where it rested on her side and examined the wound. Fortunately it was superficial and not too deep. He was joined by Sol who had moved all the bodies from where they were strewn, into the lake. The only signs of a struggle was the reddish-brown stream that was winding its way down the road.
“Is she hurt badly?” Sol asked when he reached their side.
“No. She will need some mending for the open wound, but the worst is the broken ribs. That broadsword hit her hard. She will feel stiff and sore for awhile. The ride on horseback will hurt, but once we reach the keep and she has had time to rest, she will feel