Sword of Stars

Chapter Twenty Eight. The Blood Boils.

King Ansin, Blood Ruler and Conqueror of Queens, stood at the top of his tallest tower in the Feldoran castle and looked over the battlefield. From here he could see everything. The outer villages had been overrun and consumed by the dark monsters and now they came knocking at the city gates.

It had been a long time since he had last witnessed the fires of battle and it boiled his blood. Oh how he desired to take up his sword and slay his enemies, and he would’ve if Freya hadn’t reminded him that the people need a ruler in this time of war. Yes, they needed him to survive. He was their King, their leader. They worshiped him like a god and rightfully so.

Footsteps bought him out of his thoughts. “How goes the battle Freya?” he asked without turning.

Freya stood at attention behind her father king and spoke. “The Blood are spread out around the city doing their best to rally your troops to defend the gates. There is a man among the sea of beasts that seems to use strange powers as a weapon. A Caster we can assume.”

“Have Ronyn and Vosper attack him. He is obviously the commander of this grotesque army and with him gone these savage animals may rout,” King Ansin ordered.

“Is that so wise, my king? Ronyn and Vosper are the only Caster Blood. If they die then we lose a valuable assent in this war,” Freya said with concern.

King Ansin turned to face Freya. He saw her brow furrowed for a second before her face returned to her natural sneer. The starlight reflected off her deep red hair which was shaved on the side while the other fanned down her head and neck. It always made him think of her mother, a fiery whore from a small village not far from the city. He was only young and had sworn he was in love with her until she died giving birth to Freya. In the end it hadn’t changed his whoring habits, if not enhancing them. It paid off in the end. Freya was his finest child and strongest warrior, the perfect offspring for a king. Her loyalty knew no bounds.

“Are you worried about your brothers, Freya?” King Ansin mocked.

Freya scoffed. “About them? No. About their power, yes.”

King Ansin laughed. “Those boys can handle themselves.” He turned back to the battle. “And if they can’t then their deaths will teach them their final lesson.”

“Of course my king.” Freya no doubt bowed behind his back.

“Where is Owyn?” the king asked.

“I am here father,” a soft voice said at his shoulder.

King Ansin turned to regard his strategist. He wore the traditional robes of the tactician, deep violet with gold embroidery. Owyn’s long dark hair flowed down his back, framing a boyish and innocent face. His dark eyes regarded the world with cold knowing.

“What do you think?” the king asked.

Owyn nodded as he scanned the battle next to his father. “It is a good plan my king. If Ronyn and Vosper work together as one, they may have a chance to bring down the commander. You know their heterochromatic capabilities, they can handle it. In the name of the Blood.” He bowed his head at the intonation.

“For the Blood,” King Ansin mumbled.

Owyn ran a hand through his hair. “Now, as for the citizens, I think it best they fall back into the castle for safety, that way we can use the houses to hide archers. If the beasts get through the gates then we have the archers ambush them from the windows.”

“Good, good.” King Ansin nodded. “Anything more?”

“Oh yes.” Owyn grinned at his father. “I have designed some rudimentary pike traps to be lain just beyond the gates. Men will lie in wait at either side until the enemy gets near, at which point they pull, causing a row of spikes to rise in the path of the monsters.”

“Brutal, yet effective,” the king grunted. “Well done my son.”

Owyn lit up at the praise. King Ansin didn’t often refer to his children as that but it was a commendation when he did. He found it made them try harder to please him. He laughed inwards. I’ve trained the Blood very well indeed. They will come through for me now, or else.

“I assume work has begun on this little project?”

Owyn tapped his nose knowingly. “It has already been finished, my king.”

“Of course it has.” And the king thought: arrogant little prick.

“I shall take my leave, and put them in place right away.” Owyn bowed and walked backwards until he was a few steps away. He straightened and nodded at Freya on the way past, robes swishing around his legs.

Freya re-joined King Ansin. “Do you think it’ll work?”

The king smiled. “Of course it will. Owyn is a genius, and he knows it. It gets to his head sometimes but I guess he has earned it.”

Freya chuckled. “You were the one who pushed him to become what he is. Without you he would be nothing.”

King Ansin looked at his firstborn with a raised eyebrow. “Couldn’t the same be said of you, Freya?”

“Of course my king. And as you know I don’t let it get to my head.”

King Ansin put a hand on her shoulder. “That’s why you are my commander, my dear. Loyalty to the end, that’s what I prize most in the Blood. And that’s why you are my favourite.” He winked.

“Thank you my king, anything for the Blood.” She nodded, her face betraying only the tinniest hint of emotion. It was a great compliment from her father after all.

Good, King Ansin thought, emotion is a weakness that is best quenched. Well, most emotion anyway.

An explosion rang out and the tower shook. King Ansin grabbed the side wall and held on as hard as he could.

“Who are you!?” Freya yelled.

The king spun to see a man standing on the lip of the wall. His strange beard was a style that King Ansin had never seen before, thin with the lip bare. His ancient eyes made the king tremble.

“So, this is the infamous tyrant king,” the man said with a drawl. “I am Adaler, the one who will crush your city and become its emperor.”

King Ansin stood proudly. “How dare you invade this kingdom knowing that I am its ruler. I will make sure you regret the decision in time.”

Freya picked up a fallen lance and aimed it at the strange man. “If you want King Ansin you will have to come through me.” She stood in front of her father, ready to die for the Blood.

Adaler laughed. “Oh I will girly don’t you worry about that, but not right now. I simply wanted to have a civilised chat with the king.”

“Coward!” Freya yelled. “Now is the time for fighting, not talking.”

“Is that really what you want?” The strange man stepped down off the rampart. “I just want to offer a surrender. All of your people need not die.”

“You want a surrender after all the destruction and terror you’ve wrought on my kingdom?” King Ansin demanded.

Adaler turned and looked out to the battle. “It's only party done as of now. You can either stop it now or fail trying to fight it.”

Freya lifted her spear and dived for the intruder. Adaler spun and grabbed the spear with little effort.

“As you wish. Let’s save the fighting for the battlefield.” Adaler threw Freya back and dived off the edge of the tower.

King Ansin ran to the ledge and looked over. There was no sign of the man.

“Where did he go?” Freya demanded and she staggered to her feet.

“I have decided, Freya,” King Ansin said as he turned to his eldest. “That you will defeat this man in battle and prove the Ansin blood great.”

Freya saluted. “I won’t let you down my king.” Despite her confidence, he was sure that fight would end with her death.