Priestess

Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Everyone Ara loved was about to die. “We’ve failed.”

Lodan snorted. “We will not die!”

Grimly, she lifted her sword. If this was the end, she would die fighting. But then something caught Ara’s gaze. It was a short, stocky man, pushing his way through the sea of retreating Kanovians toward them.

Her eyes widened in recognition. His armor gleaming, Bomin let out a wild war cry, “I bring death with me!” As if pulling men with the swoop of his axe, he charged toward them.

Pure joy flooding her, Ara pointed her sword skyward and shouted, “Hail King of the Miners!”

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Coen screamed, “Cut them off!” to Bomin and his soldiers.

But Bomin was already circling them. Seeing their danger, the enemy turned to flee. But the gap was fast closing. Some managed to escape, but then the opening pinched off entirely. The trappers had become trapped.

Ara heard shouts from behind. She threw a glance over her shoulder. The front lines of the Nonaean army bore down on them. It was then that Ara knew. The battle was theirs.

The Kanovians fighting grew desperate. But more and more Nonaeans arrived. Kanovians began dying by the dozens.

            Coen blew his horn. His men withdrew. “Surrender your arms. Offer your fealty to me, and I’ll spare your lives.”

            Tenan spat on the ground and muttered under his breath, “Liars don’t keep promises.”

Ara was inclined to agree. What honor was there among these?

Only sporadic Hebock hisses broke the stillness. Finally, a Kanovian separated himself from his fellows. He threw his bloodied sword at Coen’s feet. “I surrender . . . but only long enough to find another sword to stain with the blood of Nonae!”

Coen straightened to his full height. “Then you best retrieve your weapon.”

Warily, the man bent to reclaim his sword. But as soon as his hand touched the hilt, he thrust it toward Coen.

Coen blocked. Tenan buried his sword in the man’s side. He pulled it back. Blood bursting from the wound, the man lurched and then buckled into a writhing heap.

Another glimpse of Coen and Tenan’s seven years of fighting.

“Is this your answer?” Coen’s shouted.

A man stepped forward. His face shining, he said, “We will fight with the last beats of our hearts.”

“Compulsion,” Coen growled.

Ara felt dirtied. This was the power Coen held. All he had to do was reach out and use it.

One of the Hebock’s tipped his head back and screeched. The other Hebocks joined in. Ara had to resist the urge to cover her ears. When the screeches subsided, the Hebocks lowered their heads and charged, despondent Kanovians following behind them.

Hefting her sword, Ara ran to meet them. The clash was horrific, the Kanovians fighting frantically. Ara found herself backing up. But the Nonaeans numbers were overwhelming. The line held.

Eventually, only a few Hebocks and men remained in the center of a tight circle.

Coen blew his horn again. “Once again. Same offer,”

The same man came forward, his face once again gleaming. “We fight to the death.”

His face grim, Coen strode forward—his army close behind.