Fate Rides Wicked: Volume I of the Lerilon Trilogy (61 page)

Andri nodded and left the group to carry out the orders.
Tendelbro spoke next. “When will the Lake army begin its
assault?”

“According to our spies among the human part of
Rangdor’s army, the forangen will begin their charge
across the plain tomorrow morning. Lake should be in a
position to cut them off from behind by then and force
them to fight to the death with us. The pemilons and
hiftnuvin should then uncover all the xadineft and expose
them to the sun.”

“What about the acid? The hiftnuvin are very fragile,”
asked Findra.

“The hiftnuvin are immune to the acid. I’m surprised
you don’t know that, Findra. They were created at the
same time by Rangdor’s attempts at life and their blood and
skin are the opposite of the acid, thus neutralizing it.”

“The plan is very well thought out,” said Lazol, who
was new to the army and had missed many of the sessions.
As the plans unfolded before him, he continued to be
amazed.

The night passed with only a few minor skirmishes with
xadineft making suicide runs at the camp. At daybreak an
eagle came and informed Cort that the forangen army had
begun its charge towards the mountains and that Lake
would be in position soon. Cort turned to a messenger and
ordered the daril, neftir and human archers to their
positions in the trees at the edge of the plain. This signaled
to the rest of the army to marshal and march to the plain
also.

Lendril watched to the southwest as all but a small
portion of Rangdor’s army disappeared in their cloud of
dust. Only tents and a small group of guards remained in
the camp in the distance to the west. The princess waited a
few minutes longer, then lifted up a horn and blew. The
magicians left behind thirty horses, and Lendril led the best
riders from the Lake army in a charge towards the camp. A
couple hundred pemilons carrying long spears with sword
length points followed them a few yards behind.

On foot, the ten thousand Lake soldiers ran to spread
out behind the forangen and human army, which
outnumbered them twenty to one. Then came the
hiftnuvin, ready to help the pemilons and Lendril’s soldiers
finish off any remaining xadineft or guards. Rendind,
Blarn and Vilmar led the charge of the fifteen hundred little
people.

Lendril and the other soldiers knew they had to get
through the camp as quickly as possible, but take out as
many forangen and evil humans as they could. The camp
stretched for a couple of miles in each direction, so it would
take several passes. Lendril led her soldiers out far enough
to circle around without getting mixed up with the
pemilons behind. As they charged the second set of tents,
the princess saw that all but one or two of the first three
hundred still stood. Her axe came down and back up into
the chin of a forangen. As he fell she took on the next and
they spread out, this time getting a little more space in front
of the pemilons as they swung in a wide circle. Only one
set of tents still stood the next time Lendril broke out into
open field again.

Lendril quickly counted and smiled to find all of her
soldiers still with her. She backed her horse away from the
onrushing pemilons as the hiftnuvin went to work. By now
the Lake army would be in sight of the enemy army and
ready to form their circles if charged. Soon all of the man
horses had reached the end and Lendril again signaled.

As the hiftnuvin finished off the army’s camp, Lendril
once again kicked her horse up to speed and charged south.
The pemilons followed. Almost immediately they could
see the Lake army preparing for the onrushing half of the
enemy army. With a mere fifty feet separating Lake from
Rangdor’s hordes, the riders and pemilons broke through in
over a thousand different holes made for them. Up to three
forangen got caught on each of the special spears carried by
the pemilons, then the man-horses dropped their end and
reached for closer combat weapons.

In a moment the evil army found itself retreating in a
rout. Lendril blew the horn and her forces stopped, pulling
back into a long line. The forangen kept fleeing but the
humans in the army slowed to see what could be
happening. Then, like rain, giant balls of fire and huge
wooden spears, spiked from point to tail, began to fall
among them.

Cort stood on the edge of the trees watching the enemy
approach, most of the onrushing forces still organized but
some stray forangen breaking through in a panic. The
endaril smiled at the destruction the Fendolian engineers
wreaked on the enemy. He knew they would still be
outnumbered two to one but they would be in more control.

Every panicked pig man that came close enough fell to
an arrow from the ten thousand archers covered in the trees.
When enough of the enemy came close enough to threaten
to overwhelm the archers, one hundred thousand human
soldiers charged out of the trees. The archers fired one last
volley over their army’s head and put away their bows.
The neftir and daril closely followed them into the battle as
they drove the enemy back with the charge. The fendolian
attacks stopped and the Lake army formed their circles of
squads. Two hours after Lendril rode into the enemy camp,
the battle reached full tilt. The Lian army coalesced into
their circles of twenty men as trained and designed by
Tych. Each time a Lian soldier fell to injury or death, the
circle closed up to protect them. In only a few cases the
group shrunk enough to get overwhelmed.

The humans in Rangdor’s army caused the most
disruption, forming tight wedges and crashing into the
squads to break up the rhythm. The horrible clash of steel
and screams of dying men and beasts continued all day. As
the sun fell the forangen began to fall back and the Lian
army held and let them retreat. Specially designated
members of Cort’s army began carrying their injured to the
pemilons, who had disengaged and circled to the trees. The
quick creatures swiftly brought the casualties up the pass to
the waiting clerics and nurses at the camp.

The forangen eventually separated completely from the
Lian’s, now even in numbers. As darkness fell, they
seemed to be waiting. Every member of the Lian army
knew what the pig men waited for and that it wouldn’t come.
The forangen stayed and watched the good army shift and
get certain squads closer to them. They squealed in
frustration as the Lian archers came out at a run and
dropped to one knee. They let loose with a barrage of
arrows as the fendolian engines cranked up again.

The archers only got three rounds off before they
retreated again into the rest of the army. The human
generals in Rangdor’s forces instantly recognized they had
been foiled and they would be vulnerable as they stood.
They called for a charge and the battle resumed. For a
moment the advantage rested with the forangen as the dim
twilight turned to dark night and only the pig men and
enchanted races could see the heat of their opponents.

During the shifting of the squads, men had run through
with tall torches from Fendol. One by one soldiers inside
the circles lit them and swung the advantage back. In the
eerie flicker with a cold wind blowing across the plain, the
forangen fought silhouettes. By morning the battle would
be over.

Nandel and the others rose early the morning of the
battle, before the sun came up in the west. Corl, Morg and
five endaril wizards joined them and they began to set up a
specially prepared spell. The four most powerful wizards,
a thrandril, Morg, Corl and Nandel held their staves to form
a square around the less powerful ones and the illusionists.
With a signal from Corl to his assistants, they began a
chant. A beam of light raced from staff to staff, completing
the square.

The spell continued and a field of energy spread from
all four sides towards the middle. Every magician it
touched disappeared. Soon only a sheet-like field
remained. With a nod, the four wizards vanished with their
teleporter. At that moment, the Lake army began to get up.

The magicians set about preparing spells and psyching
up for the battle. As the sun rose, a horde of flying demons
and sorcerers flying with magic rose from the Valley of
Death. Corl yelled, “Wait until they are close, I will protect
you from their attacks until we can attack at point blank.”

The attackers came on and the magicians stood their
ground. The demons breathed flame or threw weapons
unique to their nature. Nothing passed Corl’s shield as the
sorcerers fired firestreams and lightning bolts. The ancient
endaril started the return fire with a meteor shower that
reduced the demons by two and injured a third. The
magicians let loose and brought many more down. As the
illusionists created beasts and multiple images of
themselves and the others, the battle changed to a two to
one disadvantage in numbers.

The servants of Rangdor came right to the ground and
began a horrific battle of flame, electricity, ice and stone.
Magicians and demons alike died, but mostly demons. The
evil sorcerers held their own, dispelling many of the
illusions. Nobody would escape injury, even as some of
the dragons came to help.

Nandel fell prey to an all out assault by three sorcerers
and a demon. He fought valiantly. As he stood on wobbly
legs, the sorcerers defeated, he prepared to take on the
demon. The orange and black beast charged and as they
made contact, they both vanished.

The wizard found himself face to face with his
opponent in a strange place, three suns circling above. The
beach he stood on looked out over a bright red ocean.
“Now you are trapped here in this hell. As beautiful as it
looks, human,” said the demon through three fangs, “it is a
deadly prison.”

In one blazing fast motion, Nandel drew his sword and
dove. The creature exploded in death sending the wizard
flying. As he lay there burned and bleeding on his back, a
face came into view. “We are The Thirteen, the good half.
The nature of this prison means we cannot escape, but we
can return you because you killed him before he could
finish your trap. Come for us when it is time to end the
reign of terror of our brothers. They will leave your land in
years of turmoil.”

“I will,” said Nandel, knowing Cert would come first.
The thirteen returned him. In his last moment of
consciousness, he saw the battle had ended and only a few
wizards remained standing, including Corl and Morg.
Then, all went black.

Jonathan Biviano has been a fan of fantasy his entire
life. Tolkein, Feist, and McCaffrey inspire his writing. Jon
is a computer professional in Oregon and has been
writing for pleasure since 1985, during high school. As a
teenager he played Advanced Dungeons and Dragons and
other role-playing games and his characters are based on
successful characters in those games. Since graduating
from Willamette University in 1990, he’s worked for
companies in all different fields but never lost his love for
writing.

Jon currently lives in Oregon’s Central valley. He hopes to
someday turn fiction and non-fiction writing into a career.
He is an avid computer gamer and also loves to play basketball, softball
and other sports. As a Political Science major, he is also
very interested in politics and hopes to write some books in
that area in the future.