Curse of Blades (Blades #1)

Chapter 35

[Note: This was originally included in Curse of Blades: Book 3, but as of July 28th, 2021, I began combining the 3 Curse of Blades books into a single one.]

The first of the wounded soldiers arrived at the Great Hall two hours after dawn. He wasn't badly wounded, and had clearly run from the field, as out of breath as he was.

But what shocked everyone in the room was what he announced as Sara guided him from the door to sit on a cot.

"Grand King Deandre is dead."

Several people gasped and Myri felt a hundred eyes on her and Anil, who stood beside her.

It was Anil who managed to ask, "Wildas?"

"Unhurt and deferring power to Second King Shelton," the man replied. "The battle was won."

"And Coulta?" Myri questioned.

"Also unhurt, but unconscious. They say he used a lot of magic and is going to be brought here." He ducked his head before adding, "I'm sorry, My Ladies. I shouldn't have made you ask. I should have known better."

"It's all right," Myri assured him. "You haven't had the easiest of days."

He bowed his head again. "Thank you."

When Coulta was carried in a short time later, Myri had him placed on a cot at the far end of the Hall, leaving the cots closer to the doors for the seriously wounded, who were starting to be brought in. She and Anil spent a moment making him comfortable; removing his sword belt and boots and stowing them under the cot.

"Why are the marks visible?" Anil asked quietly.

Myri shook her head. "I don't know. I would think it would be from using so much magic, but they were still hidden the last time he drained himself."

She reached out to brush his black hair from his face and her fingers touched his skin. The fact that she could just barely feel a fading taint of magic made her stop. She pressed her palm against his cheek and was amazed to realize that only a trace of the magic that had cursed him remained.

"What is it?" Anil questioned.

Myri glanced up at her and shook her head in disbelief. "His curse," she whispered. "It's broken."

"Does Wildas know?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure Shelton does and will tell him."

Anil nodded. "This is good, isn't it?"

Myri managed a smile. "I think so."

***

Wildas guessed there were around a thousand men and boys in rough green uniforms sitting under the guard of several hundred stoney-faced soldiers and Guardsmen. Regardless of how angry they were with the attack and the Grand King's death, they still only watched the prisoners with hands on swords, without speaking. They had been ordered not to kill, and they wouldn't unless they had to.

The prisoners were divided into several groups across the battlefield and weren't bound, merely sitting there voluntarily. Some held their heads in their hands, others stared off into the distance. Some were crying, but none were speaking. It was eery, seeing such a large group of people sitting in such utter silence.

Rohan was one of the guards, and saluted Shelton and Wildas when they approached the first group. "These are all the survivors. Some are wounded."

Shelton nodded and stepped forward. Wildas followed a step behind and watched the reactions of the prisoners. Some tried to bow from a seated position, while others just cowered like they expected swift execution.