The Crowned (The Blood and Brotherhood Saga, Book 6) (23 page)

Sara could not believe she had missed him. He had been mere
yards away from her and yet had manage to duck her attack and escape. Now she
was forced to give chase. It would have been easier, if Sigrant had chosen to
run a straight line back home. It would have been easier if he had chosen an
open path to tread, instead of running through and jumping over the masses of
fleeing troops. Anything would have been easier, honestly.

So instead of simply charging him in an attempt to run him
down, Sara was cautious. She wove like he wove among the fleeing troops,
slowing to better be able to maneuver. She jumped over the obstacles he jumped,
all the while trying to gain some ground. And she did. Until at least he broke
free of his fleeing army and raced through the mass of Seth’s troops, darting
and weaving a path of death in his wake.

It was odd that at such speeds, Sigrant could kill someone
without them even knowing they were injured until it was too late. It was
sickening that in just seconds he managed to kill nearly two hundred of Seth
newest and youngest soldiers. Snatching up a pair of short blades from those
Sigrant had felled while she ran, she maneuvered to force his direction. She
did her best to press him out of the ranks of troops, which he complied to by
striking down a pair of blessed dwarves and a giant wolf before he turned once
again and fled the field of battle.

Sara knew this was her opportunity and she did not hesitate
to pick up speed. Out across the field her opponent ran, kicking up a trail of
dust and dead grass as he pushed his legs to their limit. At first it appeared
that he planned to flee the city, but unexpectedly he changed course back
towards the battle. Sara was forced to slow and take a wider turn in order to
follow.

She didn’t dare let him enter the battlefield again to do
more damage and kill more innocents, so instead she sped up, running almost
parallel to him in a course to intercept or drive him away from the battle. Her
trick worked and he veered off in an attempt to skirt the city. Sara gave
chase. Together they eased around the north east corner of the city, Sara hot
on his trail, though her turn did take a much wider arc than Sigrant’s. Then it
was an all-out run, Sara gaining speed over the miles they ran westward along
the northern perimeter of the city. But yet another corner approached, and Sara
knew she had to act now or fall behind once again in a turn.

Doing her best to judge their speed and the distance she
would need to lead him, she threw the first blade and then the second, hoping
at least one would make their mark and slow him enough for her to overtake him.
So fast the blades flew through the air, she was amazed when the first struck
his shoulder, folding him over slightly as he reached the corner of the city. The
second blade soared past his now lowered ear, glancing off his shoulder,
changing its trajectory to find its target coming around the corner from the
opposite direction.

There was nothing for Sara to do at her speed but leap. As
Sigrant plowed into the unexpected white warhorse, his body tore clear through
its ribcage and side, taking the rider’s right leg with him. The blade that had
grazed his shoulder cleaved into two the head of the beauty that Sara
recognized just as her features were destroyed. Sara knew in that instant that nothing
would ever be the same in Valdadore, but she knew too that she still had a duty
to uphold.

Clearing the mangled horse and rider, she was surprised to
find that the impact had slowed Sigrant enough that she bore down directly upon
him. From above she twisted her body and landed on the invading king, just as
the deep booming howl exploded from somewhere behind and above her. She
recognized the anguished voice of Garret as she drove Sigrant to the ground.

Riding the invading king down to the earth, she thrust her
hand between his ribs, listening to the crack as he screamed sickeningly. Grasping
his beating heart in her small hand, she wrenched her arm upwards and tore it
out, ripping through each of his ribs and shoulder before extracting her arm near
his neck. With one hand she wrenched back his head, thrusting the heart in his
mouth with the other, before clamping his mouth closed by grasping his chin and
yanking upwards. His head tore free of his body with ease, his scream ceasing
with a gurgle as his eyes stared on into eternity, the glow in them fading
quickly.

Garret still screamed in rage from atop the wall, but Sara
knew that there was nothing she could do to save Linaya. The woman was dead
before she hit the ground. There was nothing left to save.

* * * * *

Seth watched Sara chasing the enemy around the battlefield
and then the city, and tracked their progress. He watched as another aura
familiar to him collided with those he tracked. Then he watched it dissipate. Linaya
was dead. Sara was involved. Garret was there too. Seth hoped beyond hope that
Linaya had not fallen to Sara.

Taking to the air once more, he climbed more quickly than
ever before, motioning for Borrik to stay. Flapping furiously, he turned and
flew the direction of his wife, and witnessed as Sigrant was brought to an end
through his god vision. The war was over. The enemy king destroyed. His army in
custody. Even so, there was little to rejoice at.

* * * * *

Garret watched Linaya slowing as she neared the corner of
the city, her mount maneuvering into the turn. One second she was there, atop
her mount. The next her mount was destroyed as if it had exploded, and as it
fell a broken and destroyed Linaya crumpled to the ground, a portion of her
head bouncing away from her body twice before coming to rest. At first there
was no sign as to what had caused the damage. There was only gut wrenching
loss.

Linaya was all that Garret had left. All that he looked
forward to. She was all that he had that was not tainted by evil. She was the one
light in a world filled with darkness and now she had been snuffed out. Garret
roared at the top of his lungs, anguished. Then he saw them.

On the ground below, where previously no one had been, Sara
landed stark naked atop a man covered in gore whom she viciously slaughtered,
ripping off his head. Garret did not need the details. He did not want them. All
he knew was that Sara had a part to play in Linaya’s murder. He roared again,
this time in hatred as Sara rose nimbly as if nothing had happened and spun as
if to show off her nude body to him. She disgusted him. What she
was
disgusted him. What she had done made him hate her. He would see her pay for
Linaya’s death if he had to strike her down himself. But first he would see to
the woman he adored.

Turning, the broken giant of a man strode down the wall in
search of the stairs that he knew would lead him down to the ground level.

* * * * *

Sara was torn as to what she should do. She did not want to
flee the scene as it could appear to Garret a betrayal. But then again, what
betrayal could be greater than killing the woman the king loved? Scooping up
the blade that had felled the foreign king, Sara was filled with guilt, but
knew there was nothing she could do about it. She still had duties to attend to,
and in the big picture she should not wait to do them. She would leave the
fallen woman and Garret to be alone with her, and come to him later to give her
condolences and apologies.

Decided, Sara sprang into action and raced towards the wall
of the city. With a powerful leap she cleared the side and fell again to land
lithely upon the cobblestone road beyond. Turning, she raced down the city
street, careful to avoid those humans and her kind that inhabited the streets. Just
one more task and the battle would be won.

Racing towards the center of the city, she slowed as she
neared temple row, and her eyes fell upon the torture implement the old woman
was trapped inside.

Dropping Sigrant’s head, she approached the device and
kicked the giant steel object, rolling it over. The locks and cranks that were
designed to keep the prisoner within were still intact. The old woman was still
inside. Sara needed only to kill the woman, and the rest of the infected
Valdadorians would be cured of the plague she carried. The only problem was
that her original plan would not work.

She had hoped to simply build a fire around the giant metal
sarcophagus, but she knew the woman would survive the fire. Her heart had to be
destroyed. Nude, and with naught but an invading king’s severed head and a
short blade she did not remember collecting, Sara had no idea how to approach
dispatching the woman. She dared not open the device, even for a moment. There
was no telling how powerful the old woman had become. Sara only received a
portion of her power and it could be argued that she was the most powerful
person upon Thurr. Granny in the box was undoubtedly much,
much
more
powerful.

Without a solution at hand, it was not until the wings
flapped from above her that she knew her husband had come to the rescue as
usual. Too bad she couldn’t speak to him. Instead she simply stood still, and
threw up her arms as he landed, a show of her dismay. He smiled knowingly, and
removed his tattered but serviceable cloak and handed it to her to cover her
nude body.

With no other means of communication, after donning the
cloak Sara pointed to the torture device and drew an “X” over her heart. Seth
nodded and placed his hand over the metal above where the heart of the
inhabitant would be. The metal below his hand moved and flowed like fluid,
creating a hole straight down to the old woman’s chest.

“Now you may do it,” Seth said, though to Sara it really
took him an unnaturally long time, like several minutes, to complete the
sentence.

Plunging her hand into the device she extracted a bloody
heart and dropped it to the ground before she stomped upon it. Instantly the
streets of the city quieted. Seth smiled then and Sara watched him come.

Gingerly, and carefully Seth pulled her into his arms. His
touch felt so light it reminded Sara of spider webs. Tears streamed down her
face, knowing not only that it was over, but also that she had done many a
terrible thing. Redemption was beyond her grasp, of that she was certain. The king
would never forgive her. Seth could never truly love her in this condition, and
they could not even communicate properly. There was only one thing she could
do.
Lives and collisions.

Pulling back carefully she placed the handle of the short
sword she carried in Seth’s hand and closed his fingers around it. Then moving
quickly, as only she could do, she reached out with her free arm and pulled him
to her as carefully as possible. She only winced slightly as the blade slid
into her abdomen and up into her heart and lung. She clung to Seth, listening
to his heart beat unnaturally slow, refusing to let him go against his
struggles. There they sobbed, together, until the deed was finished.

* * * * *

Borrik and Zorbin saw to the prisoners. Without orders they
knew not what to do with the tens of thousands of soldiers. Being that there
was already a structure in place, they made the surrendered troops restore
their camp, and there the blessed dwarves and Seth’s rat soldiers created a
perimeter to keep them contained. The dire wolves, apparently deciding they
were no longer in the debt of the dwarves, turned and sauntered off the field
of battle.

Seeing their work done, the two decided to seek out their
respective masters and see what orders they might be given. Together the Dwarven
warrior and the leader of the wolf men walked back to the city they called
home.

In the throne room of the palace inside the once beautiful
city of Valdadore, King Garret Valdadore, so named after his kingdom, sat upon
the throne, the broken corpse of the no longer beautiful Linaya splayed across
his lap. With her death her beauty had faded, leaving behind a plain and common
shadow of the vision she had been in life. Garret clung to her body and sobbed
there uncontrollably, all doors to his location thrown wide and left open, a
small trail of blood the only witness to his passage.

Though his heart was broken and all emotion within him was
drained, one yet remained and filled him so completely that his vision saw only
in shades of red. Staring ahead blankly, his tears having dried up long before
his sobbing ceased, he saw movement ahead and willed his eyes to focus better
through the haze that sought to shelter him from painful truth.

Seeing those who approached, he rose carefully from his
throne and delicately laid Linaya upon its surface, before turning to face the
open door. Summoning his blessing, the king of Valdadore exploded in size as he
rushed headlong to exit the palace, smashing doorways with each passage.

* * * * *

Seth could not believe what she was doing. In his arms,
Sara’s body fought to heal from the grievous wound she inflicted upon herself,
yet she held fast to him, keeping the blade lodged firmly between them. For
better than an hour they stood locked as such, her life draining away, expelled
in the exertion of healing that could not complete. Every moment her life fled
in a torrent and every moment it returned to the god she worshiped, the only
god she had ever believed in.

With each passing second Seth’s power grew, but it was the
power as a god received it, not the power as it was stripped from the life it
belonged to. As such it was given to Seth freely, untainted, and joined with
him freely, without the need to impose his will upon it.

Eventually her grip upon him slackened and he backed away
quickly, drawing the blood-coated blade with him. Her injury healed in seconds,
proof that she retained plenty of power.

“Thank you, love,” Sara grinned sadly. “Now we can still be
together, and you can understand me.”

“How did you know when to stop?”