Of Gods and Warriors ✓

Chapter 33

The man tried to dislodge his weapon from Linder's arm in vain-- then jabbed his elbow hard into the stab wound on Linder's back.

The dagger flew from his grip, but some other Midaelian soldier promptly seized it and continued the onslaught he'd left off.

Breathing hard, Linder fell on his back, at the end of his strength and bleeding into the snow.

The last thing he saw was dozens of soldiers closing in on the dying Vasaen, before his vision plunged into darkness.

✦✧✦✧

Panic closed around Farren's heart like an iron fist. The wave of magic that threw them all backward, clearing the path between Karles and Dion, reeked of Ancient Sorcery, with which came the centuries-old, blood-sodden tradition of the Death Ring. A mindless match of sorcery that had never, in the history of Stormvale, ended well.

It had snatched away the lives of many talented sorcerers, who had made the suicidal decision for naught more than a show of power.

Yet Dion's motive today was not of a duel, but of revenge. Whatever kind of twisted trust he'd put in Karles had been shattered.

"How long have these two been working together? Karles and Linder?" she asked, struggling to get to her feet.

"Ever since the two had rode here from Brittlerock," said Klo, her tone stern.

"You knew?"

She threw a cold glare Farren's way. "Karles told us all the details right before this mission. You and Gray would've known too, if you didn't sneak off on your own," she said, "and for Rendarr over there, well, he thought it was perfectly reasonable to take a nap behind some bushes right before a mission."

"Builds up the energy!" yelled Rendarr from somewhere amidst the chaos.

Farren was already readying her throwing axes, letting her magic flow through her veins and onto her palms, charging the blades with sorcery.

A Death Ring needed some time to be completed and sealed. Good thing was, Dion had not yet been able to channel the full extent of his sorcery, what with the arrows and crossbow quarrels flung at him. All that dodging and skittering was wearing him down. Yet Karles had still been bound to the spot, and that was what worried Farren the most.

Once the barrier closed, not even Rhilio could get him out unscathed.

Farren muttered, once again, the incantations of the spell of immobility. The throwing axes in her both hands sizzled with the magic. She reared back, took aim, and--

"Farren, don't!" A pair of arms tackled her from behind, and she nearly released the spell on them. She whirled to find it was Rendarr.

"What the--" she cried, "it could've hurt you, damnit!"

But Rendarr paid that no mind. "Do not use magic now, I beg you," he said, gesturing toward the other end of the trail, in the direction which led to the camp.

The two Council Mages, who had arrived at the camp the previous day to take Alastair to Byton, were riding this way.

"Sniffed out the sorcery at once," he said, "let them deal with Dion. You don't have to meddle with this. Else they'll arrest you too!"

But the hurrying mages were still more than a couple hundred paces away, and Dion had already managed to close half of the ring.

Klo regarded the mages with a narrow-eyed stare. "Damned cowards. Barricaded themselves in a barrack when they heard there would be a fight. Now watch them come riding to take credit, when we have already cornered the beast."