Chapter 19: A Clash of Arms

"We need to catch up with that army." Kieron said as they exited the ice cavern. "They have a head's start on us."

"More than that." Savren replied. "They have already reached the pass."

"How?"

"A gate of some kind." Savren closed his eyes. "I cannot get a fix on them."

Kieron frowned. He closed his eyes and focused on the crystal, and with it, Cymra. With the location of the crystal firmly in his mind, he telepathically imparted the information to Savren. The young man blinked and stared at Kieron in surprise.

Toril watched the two impassively, his thoughts already on the upcoming battle. It would be a true test of his abilities. The events of the past day wore heavy on his mind, and he learned that he could not even save himself if he really needed to. He thought of his goddess, and in his heart, made his decision.

Both Kieron and Savren watched as a faint glow enveloped the young Sun Elf, the tarnish of his armor melting away under the light of an unseen sun. His face, once pinched with worry and doubt, now soft with inner serenity.

"Toril, once I open the gate, you get to crash the party." Savren spoke.

"I am ready." He announced, his sword ready in his grip and shield before him.

"Kieron, can you take her?"

The young rogue nodded slowly. "I can."

"Then I'll hold them off, you destroy the crystal."

"Can you sense how the battle goes?"

"No, I am too far away." He grinned wryly. "At least for now."

"Then lets do it."

"For Aerick," Toril spoke.

"For my parents," Replied Kieron.

"For the Empire," Rejoined Savren, and then he opened the gate.

Toril shouldered aside legions of undead as he burst through the gate that Savren opened. The air about him took on a wailing sound as his sword flashed, cutting a swath through the rotting corpses. There was mass confusion amongst the rear of the army where he was attacking, his eyes taking in the massive horde trying to march through a small pass at the edge of the Empire. A flash of pale skin ahead of him showed the location of Cymra. Kieron appeared behind him, his rapier flashing out in debilitating slashes. The undead milled about them, confused, as Savren leapt through the gate as it closed. He swung his staff about him, clearing a space.

"DOWN!" He yelled.

Toril and Kieron dropped as a blast of magickal energy washed above them, blasting a path through the dead. The breathing members of the army screamed and dropped aflame. In the distance, a rumbling thunder was heard, and yet it was not any normal thunder. Great clumps of earth erupted amidst the army, organic geysers that catapulted the living and the dead into the air as so many rag dolls.

Kieron danced back to the others and stretched forth his hand. Another explosion erupted before them, the force bled around the psionic shield that the young rogue erected. Atop a ridge a mile away he saw his target.

"We have to get to Cymra!" He shouted to the other as he parried an attack by a zombie.

"Where?" Toril replied, bisecting an undead.

Kieron pointed at the distant figure.

Savren crushed the skull of a zombie with his staff. "Be ready to run!"

Syrena stood atop the fortress wall at the mouth of the pass. She watched the battle through the spyglass, her face expressionless. The other duchesses, only Murelle was absent, stood with her, each focused on the distant battle. Five miles into the pass, the Freeman Battalions stood engaged with the enemy. Even at this range, she could feel the hostile magicks reaching out for her and every other woman present.

"Have they failed?" Esmerelda spoke softly.

"I do not know." Hallia closed her eyes. "They are close... and one is... not present..."

"The Irregulars are holding their own for right now." Syrena looked over at the two. "But they cannot last, not against those numbers."

"How long?" Hallia asks.

"Maybe an hour, maybe two."

Esmerelda frowned. "The defensive spells cast upon the battalions will hold for two more hours."

"We can hope."

"They are too closely engaged for any long distance magicks." Esmerelda spoke.

In the far distance the lone battalions fought. The irregulars formed a loose front line of pike companies, while the cannon and bombard companies held back and loosed death from afar. However mass of undead, orks, and humans threatened to overrun the small groups of defenders. There were just too many of the enemy.

Kieron fought with rapier and dagger in quick, measured strikes. Toril cut huge swaths through the throng, the undead retreated from his very presence, and those that could not get out of the way were cut down. Savren watched their backs with his staff. It was daunting the task, for it seemed no matter how close they got to Cymra, the farther she seemed to be. More blasts struck the army, sending more bodies flying.

"DOWN!" Shouted Savren. All three dropped to the ground as a metallic sphere flew over their heads, level with where their waists would have been. Zombies were torn asunder by the ball as it flew. Kieron blinked at the carnage.

"What in the name of the Goddess was that?"

"Something non-magickal," Savren replied, helping Toril to his feet. The trio had a brief respite while the enemy tried to rally. "We have to hurry."

"Allow me." Toril took a deep breath. Despite the cuts and bruises, he seemed unaffected by the battle. His sword aloft, he whispered a prayer to Sioban. Light flickered along the blade's edge, finally the huge sword blazed with an inner light. The undead around the party flinched and retreated away from them, some simply crumbled to dust. Savren stood feet apart, staff held in both hands. He struck the ground with his staff once, then leveled it towards their target. Kieron turned away from the glare of a blue white lightning bolt as it arced its way towards Cymra. The combination attack of the Paladin's turning and the sorcerer's lightning bolt forged a path through the horde.

"MOVE!" Toril shouted, striding forward, sword aloft. "I don't know how long I can hold them off!" His eyes roamed the battlefield and he automatically selected the most dangerous enemies to engage first. The sense of wrongness about Cymra only increased as the made their way closer to the former princess.

"There," Pointed Esmerelda. In the distance a dual arcane/divine magickal effect took hold.

Syrena nodded, and activated a mage relay. "Commander Elbren, direct your batteries twelve degrees to the right."

"Understood General," The human male replied.

The artillery silenced for a moment, then resumed towards the disturbance. Several blasts landed ahead of the advancing warrior, shattering the cohesion of the horde.

"Drop the range ten meters and commence full bombardment."

"Yes Ma'am."

"The pikes are starting to fall back." Hallia saw. "How long will the Freeman be able to hold out now?"

"Less than an hour," Syrena grimaced. The dark magick was coming closer, and with each step she could feel the magick sapping her will.

The explosions erupted around them. Toril nearly fell, but was caught by Kieron. More bodies flew upwards, and their target was ever so close.

"Kieron!" Savren shouted. "Get ready!"

Savren made a gesture and lifted the young human off his feet and catapulted him towards Cymra. Kieron flew over the heads of the startled humans and orks and landed in a roll, regaining his feat and lashing out with his weapons at the nearest targets. Orks fell as he was within arms reach of Cymra. She turned, her face alit with malice and hate, her black sword rested loosely in her hand as he approached.

"What do we have here?" She taunted. "A boy? Doing a woman's job?"

Kieron said nothing, his mind flashing back through the years.

"Are you to be my executioner?"

The bodies of his murdered parents flashed before his eyes.

"Surrender to me boy, and I will make your death painless."

"As you made my parents death?" He spat.

She frowned, her sword rising slowly. Understanding crept into her eyes.

"AAAHHHHH..." She laughed. "The whelp of that Imperial whore?"

Kieron leapt forward, rapier lashing out. Cymra easily blocked the blade, and countered with a stroke of her own. He blocked it, but was forced back by her attack. She smiled, then promptly shattered his sword. Kieron flipped backwards, avoiding her swing, then tossed aside the broken sword.

"You have spirit boy." Her eyes were aflame with lust. "I will cripple you for now, then take my pleasures of you after I have conquered the Empire. I may let you live on the end of my leash."

Kieron took a deep breath. With a twist his dagger disappeared into the folds of his armor.

"Giving up so soon?" She pouted. "Oh well, I am going to enjoy this." She reared back.

Kieron extended his right arm, palm open. Purple psionic energy manifested as the blade of the crystal sword slid forth until the hilt rested comfortably in his palm. Cymra backed away, fear heavy in her eyes. The crystal blade glowed with an inner radiance of sickly purple.

"For my parents, and for the Empire, I sentence you to death." He opened his psionic senses fully and searched her. He saw the network of scars beneath her armor, and at the heart of them, the crystal imbedded beneath her skin. It was only the size of his thumb, but he could sense the power radiating from it. Impervious to anything that might have a female aura, it did was quite vulnerable to a male one. He stepped to the right quickly, feinting an attack, then spun to the left, the sword flashing in a horizontal arc. She blocked the blade, and Kieron unleashed a spurt of energy to spin in the opposite direction. She managed to block the second strike, but at a price. The crystalline edge of the blade bit deep into her shoulder. She screamed, the pale flesh sizzling and turning black as necrosis set in. He blocked and overhand stroke from her, and returned with a flip-kick to her jaw. She stumbled back into the throng of zombies. Kieron leapt after her, his blade turning to dust any undead it touched.

Toril shielded Savren the best he could. It was all in Kieron's hands now. He struck out in measured strokes, as Savren used limited bursts of magickal power to repel or destroy any orks or humans that strayed to close. The holy aura Toril projected was failing slowly, and humans and orks were unaffected by the aura. It was a simple numbers game. How long would their strength and endurance hold out against a horde of thousands. But the sense of darkness around Cymra only seemed to intensify, and the sense of duality in her only seemed to make him more worried.

"Can you hold?" He asked Savren.

"Do I have a choice?" Savren parried a blow with his staff.

Toril called upon his goddess and leveled his sword, blasting a channel through to the dueling pair.

Kieron pressed home his attack. He was bleeding from several cuts from attacks of Cymra's human and orc guards, but she was alone now, equally injured. Her pale flesh was pulled taught across her skull, giving her a desiccated look. She was looking more and more her true age. Her magickal endurance was waning, as was his own. He knew if the battle lasted much longer he would loose it, and she knew it. All she had to do was to maintain an effective defense until his own weariness caused him to make a slip. He grinned.