Seed, p.29
Seed, page 29
Murzol took a bandage from one of the healers and wrapped it around Renna's arm, then dabbed the ointment on the side of Dregu's hand where the druid's teeth had pierced his skin. He offered Renna a pinch of the pink herbs he chewed regularly. "This will help with the pain," he murmured.
Renna shook her head, looking warily between them. "It's alright," Melori assured her.
"It's not poison," Murzol chuckled, popping the plants into his mouth and offering Renna another pinch. She took it, chewing slowly.
Melori wrapped the cloak around her again. "I'm not with the enemy," she said softly. "You are. And he would not hurt you unless you tried to hurt him first." She gestured to Dregu, who came to kneel by her side. "He is my husband, and our king."
"How are you alive?" Renna asked.
"What did the king say?" She almost didn't want to know. It was easier not to think of him at all. But she asked anyways.
"You were killed in a dispute with the Crimson Forest elves."
Melori almost laughed. "And yet he allies with them, now. What principles our father has," she spat. "No." She shook her head. "I spied on Tanyth for him, and when Tanyth discovered who I was he threw me in his dungeon for five long years. And our father did nothing to rescue me." She took Dregu's hand. "The orcs rescued me. They are not as we've always been told they are. The stories are a lie, and the monsters we fear are far closer than we think." She gritted her teeth. "Will your king come rescue you?"
Renna looked away.
"No," Melori murmured. "He will not. When you don't return and he knows you've been captured, they will attack before we can use your information against them." She stood, Dregu's arm wrapping around her gently as she leaned into him, seeking his solid comforting warmth. "Take her to the healers' tents," she ordered the warriors around them. "Treat her well, but ensure she doesn't escape before the battle."
The orcs moved forwards and Renna struggled to her feet. "Wait. You don't want what I know?"
Melori shrugged. "I won't torture it out of you."
The druid shivered, pulling the borrowed cloak further around herself. "Tanyth has more men than you do," she said softly. One of the orcs lifted her carefully in his arms and she stiffened at his touch.
She would see soon enough, Melori thought. She would see the truth.
"Is our father here, or did he merely send his minions?" Melori asked as the warriors turned away.
Renna looked back over the orc's shoulder. "He's here," she said.
Melori turned back towards the rock where she'd left her weapons, wiping her bloody hands on her coat.
"Are you well?" Dregu asked.
She turned to him, pressing her cheek to his chest as she wrapped her arms around him. "I am always well in your arms," she whispered.
"What about your father?" he asked.
She shook her head. "He is not my father. He has never truly been my father. He means nothing to me."
And she meant nothing to him. He had proved that time and time again. He was like Tanyth. He used people until they were worthless to him, then cast them aside. Perhaps he was worse than Tanyth, because those he used were his own flesh and blood. He bred children as if they were beasts of burden meant to serve him, and not people with their own desires, their own souls.
Dregu stroked a hand gently over her braids and down her back, his touch like magic, the tension melting from her. "How many more are there? His other half-breeds?"
She shrugged. "Hundreds, I would guess. He breeds his own army on human women. We will kill many tomorrow."
"I'm sorry," he murmured.
"It can't be helped." She broke away from his embrace, brushing the tears from the corners of her eyes, and returned to her rocky perch, sliding her daggers into the sheaths strapped to her legs and her sword to the scabbard on her back. She stared into the darkness as the hours passed.
She closed her eyes and pictured the hundreds of others just like Renna, blindly following a monster to their doom on the battlefield. Her father was no god, no chosen one, as he liked to style himself. He was not even fit to be king. It was past time someone stopped him.
She would end him on the morrow. Melori made the silent promise to herself, not a single twinge of guilt or doubt in her heart.
It takes so little for a seed to sprout, to bloom. A drop of water, a moment of sunlight.
She nodded in understanding. One brief moment. One small choice.
Chapter thirty-two
As the moon slipped below the horizon, the first rays of sun rising in the east, the forest south of them stirred. Flocks of birds rose from the trees, calling out in the chilly morning, disturbed by the passage of the elvish army.
"To your positions," Dregu shouted, the order passed from contingent to contingent across the ridge and down into the troops in the western woodlands. The wide frost-covered plain stretched empty ahead of them.
Not long after, the front lines of the elvish forces broke from the treeline. They came to a halt, their numbers still hidden in the forest. Melori stood. The enemy was too distant to make out individuals clearly, but she could see a crimson figure on a horse. Tanyth. She lifted her chin, the old hatred rushing through her.
For long minutes, the two armies stood their ground on opposite sides of the field. Dregu pulled Melori close to his side, tilting her face up to him and kissing her. His lips lingered against hers before he pulled away. "Stay by my side," he begged her.
She knew what he meant. Not only in the battle, but beyond. "Even after death," she promised.
He leaned his forehead against hers, his breath warm against her face. "My love," he murmured. "Not yet. Not for a long time yet." She knew the words were not for her, but for the gods, and she echoed his prayer.
He turned back towards their enemy and she closed her eyes, calling out for the Goddess.
A drum pounded across the field and phalanxes of elves marched forward, Tanyth prancing between them on his snow-white horse. A line of elvish cavalry followed, bearing the colors of the Aymer Forest.
"Give me a bow," Melori called. An orc passed one to her and she knocked an arrow, closing her eyes.
She felt the horse's heartbeat, fast and nervous. She whispered the hunter's prayer under her breath, asking forgiveness for taking the innocent animal's life, but it was doomed already. The orcs would have to kill many of the cavalry's horses to knock their riders to the ground and even the fight.
She opened her eyes and loosed the arrow. She felt the momentary rush of power through her, the edges of her vision darkening as the Goddess's void swirled around her and then dissipated, leaving her herself again.
The distance was too far, but the Goddess guided her arrow. She watched as Tanyth's horse crumpled under him, the king falling from its back. She couldn't hear the shouts at this distance, but she could imagine them, his rage and surprise. His crimson clad figure stood from the ground quickly, drawing his sword. His arms moved wildly, angrily. She grinned and tossed the bow back to its owner, drawing her sword.
With a shout, the elvish forces marched forward across the grass. A horn blew in the orcish line and warriors charged down over the ridge, Dregu and Melori in their midst. She could feel his hand brush against hers as they ran, checking that she was by his side, and she sent another prayer to the Goddess to protect him.
She could feel the bloodlust of the orcs, their roars and cheers as they swept down on their enemies. Blood pounded in her ears, the heartbeats of thousands around her drowning out her own.
The massive, armored bodies of the orcs crashed into the shield walls of the elves, carving paths through the phalanxes and scattering the elves as they fought the enemies at their front and those that infiltrated into their midst.
Arrows from the orcish archers flew high over their heads into the midst of the elvish army. Answering volleys from the elves pierced through the sky towards them. Dregu pulled her to him, covering her ears with his hands as Murzol's spells reverberated around them, the battlefield rocked by a deafening boom as the arrows fell on an invisible shield over them.
"Get past the enemy lines," Dregu shouted, releasing her. "He doesn't have enough power to do that again, and as long as you're on our side of the field the next volley might hit you."
They surged past the first of the elvish lines towards the cavalry, other orcs cutting down the elvish troops at their back. The cavalry horses shied and reared in fear from Murzol's spell, the cavalry lines chaos as the front lines of orcs cut their way through, dragging elves from their horses. The ground was slick with horses' blood, beasts lying behind the charging orcs with their throats slit, the tendons at the backs of their knees severed so they collapsed, pinning their riders underneath them. The cries and screams of the dying, both man and animal, echoed around them as Melori fought her way through the enemy at Dregu's side, her boots slipping on the frosty grass.
She saw the surprise on some of the elvish warriors faces as they fell by her sword, their shock to see the prisoner they'd tormented fighting by the side of the orcish King. She took grim satisfaction in each kill, her sword drenched in their blood. It was not loving of her, she knew. "Goddess, forgive me," she asked, as she swung her blade, blood flicking onto the ground. She didn't care of the Goddess answered this time.
More elvish troops poured into the field, the orcs pushed slowly back towards the ridge. Dregu blew the horn around his neck, the ground thundering as orcish troops burst from the woodlands to the west, bearing down on the right flank of the elvish forces. More orcs surged from over the ridge.
"With me!" Dregu called, raising his sword, his chest heaving. The orcs around him roared in response, pushing forward through the middle of the elvish infantry, splitting Tanyth's army in two.
Melori looked for Tanyth's red robes, his shining silver armor, as they pushed further into the elvish lines. She couldn't see him. There were too many bodies locked in combat around them, wave after wave of elves rushing towards them from the forest. She pulled out one of her daggers, gripping it in her left hand as she wielded her sword with her right, watching Dregu's flank, catching the elves that came at him from the side, eager to fell the orcish King and claim the glory of his kill. A few of them hesitated at seeing her, confused for a split second that an elf fought with their enemy. Their hesitation was their undoing.
There was no more division between the lines, the clash of thousands of swords deafening. Warriors seethed around them. Melori ducked and rolled across the bloody grass as an elf swung for her neck. She threw her dagger, the blade sinking into his back. He toppled and she retrieved it, turning, but Dregu was nowhere to be seen. Separated from him, the elves passed by her as if she were one of their own, and she had a moment of respite as she scanned the battlefield around her. She sucked in heavy breaths, the air tasting coppery with blood, her muscles burning.
A cheer of reinforcements rose up from the elves around her and she let their triumphant surge carry her forwards, back towards the orcs. She saw Dregu, Bula and a few others by his side, and pushed through the elves towards him. He spotted her, relief in his eyes, and she stabbed the elves between them in the back, running forward to rejoin him.
"There's too many," he shouted. "Fall back further into our lines."
"Don't try to protect me," she spat, kicking an oncoming mercenary in the kneecap and driving her dagger up into his stomach, under his breast plate. "I'm not leaving you."
Dregu grinned, his sword singing in a wide arc above her head until it sliced into a soldier's neck. "Foolish of me," he grunted.
The elvish army pushed forward again, the last contingent of cavalry trampling across the field. A cry went up amongst their ranks, not the elation of reinforcements this time.
"Arpel is coming," Murzol called from his position protected within a circle of orcish warriors. A spell shimmered between his outstretched hands, his face strained with the effort. "They're at the elves' rear line."
Tanyth's army was surrounded by enemies on three sides, and the lake on the other, with no way out but through the orcish forces before them. They pushed forward desperately, driving the orcs back towards the ridge.
"Give no ground," Dregu roared.
The old mage cast his spell, fire leaping up from the ground amidst the elvish cavalry. Horses reared and charged in all directions, throwing their riders. Melori dodged the beasts, the battlefield around them filling with smoke. She thought she saw a flash of crimson from the corner of her eye, but it disappeared as quickly as she'd glimpsed it. She could hear Dregu call her name, but he was lost in the mass of bodies. She called back, cutting a swath through the elves around her, but it seemed to make no difference, waves of soldiers filling the void made by the fallen.
She could see him, beyond a line of spellfire. A phalanx of elves cut between them, scattering in all directions as horses galloped through them. She felt a searing slash across her back, the blade of a sword scraping across her armor and catching her on the back of the shoulder. She whirled to see the Delakki orc she'd beaten in the tournament pull his axe from the head of the elf who'd attacked her. He smiled at her, then his mouth went slack and he pitched towards her. She dodged around him, driving her dagger into the neck of the elf behind him. She pulled the elf's sword from the orc's back, but he already lay still and unbreathing amongst the other fallen warriors. Another elf rushed her and she hefted both swords, lunging forwards and slicing his legs out from under him.
Another phalanx emerged from the trees, tall shields locked together as they marched over the bodies of the dead and dying. The leaves carved into their gleaming armor glinted in the sun, announcing the King of Aymer's personal guard. If her father was truly here, as Renna had confessed, he would be within that circle of warriors.
Melori rushed forwards, slashing at an oncoming elf with the sword she'd pulled from her fallen ally. She left it where it stuck in the soldier's ribs, wielding her other with both hands as she cut through the mercenaries and Crimson Forest elves around her. She could hear Dregu shouting behind her, ordering his warriors to protect her, but she ignored him. She fought her way forwards. She could see the polished gold of the king's helmet beyond the line of guards.
There was a roar at her elbow and Bula and a handful of other orcs charged past her, slamming into the shield wall and toppling the guards to the ground. The line of guards tried to re-form around their king but the orcs drove them back, felling a few and leaving gaps in the line. Melori heard the king shout for reinforcements and she joined the fray, slicing through the elves, climbing over the bodies. More of the royal guard rushed forward, filling the gaps. Melori ducked and sliced low beneath their shields, cutting across their legs in the gap above their knees where their greaves didn't protect them. Bula crashed over the guards as they fell, stomping on a few until their necks snapped. She grinned viciously at Melori. "Come on," she shouted, shouldering her way past the shield wall.
The gap she'd made in the wall closed momentarily behind her and Melori slammed her body against it, breaking through the elves. The other orcs broke through elsewhere, turning to fight the guards from behind, and the line of elves scattered, only a few left surrounding their king. They were heavily armored and there were few gaps in their armor the orcs could exploit. Bula's sword clanged against their shields, the line faltering. They parted and Melori saw the trap too late.
"No!" she screamed. Bula rushed into the gap, blade raised, and the king stepped forwards, driving his sword into her gut.
The other orcs rushed the guards, overwhelming them, but it was too late. Bula staggered back as the king wrenched his sword from her abdomen.
Melori leaped forward, a scream of rage leaving her throat ragged. Her blade clashed against the king's and she felt his hesitation as he recognized her. She beat him back, tears blurring her vision. One of his guards broke from the orcs and joined them, striking her sword from her hand as she lunged for the king. She lurched away from the reach of his sword, tripping over the corpse of one of the elves and falling to her back in the bloody field.
The king pulled his helmet from his head, crouching over her. A strange expression, something like a smile, stretched his lips. He pressed the blade of his sword to her neck. "My child," he murmured. "You've managed for yourself quite well without me."
Despite his three hundred years he still looked young, his long chestnut hair betraying no hint of grey. There were only faint lines at the corners of his eyes, the same lines she remembered from her childhood and from the last time she'd seen him seven years ago. His skin, unlike hers, was smooth and unmarked. He reached out and traced the scar on her cheek, the blunt tip of her ear. "Though not unscathed," he remarked with a dismayed twist of his lips.
"Would you like to see the rest?" she bit out. "Tanyth was thorough."
He grimaced. "He is... an annoyance," he acknowledged. "As he always has been."
"Yet you've allied with him," she spat.
He shrugged. "He is convenient for now. The orcs and the humans must be dealt with. You've seen for yourself now how much fertile land they keep for themselves. They control much of the trade to the Pearl Coast, weakening us. It is not to be borne. Why do you think we live for so long, if not to rule empires? Well, perhaps not you." His lip curled.
She was used to this argument, had heard it hundreds of times as a child. Elves were beloved of the Gods. Why else would the deities bless them with long lives? Other races lived such short and pointless existences, generations toiling and then dying a dozen times in an elf's lifespan. And humans were an amusement, pretty toys to be fucked, bred, and sent on their way.
"It is not too late for you, though, my child. You still have many good years left." He pulled his blade back slightly, smiling down at her. "You have triumphed over such adversity. There is a place for you in my personal guard, if you wish it. You have more than proved yourself." He glanced around at the dead bodies littering the field. "Or you can meet the Gods with your barbarian friends. Your choice."
