Page 61 of A Rising Hope (The Freckled Fate #3)

61

OREST

T he marching army behind me was silent. There were no cheerful whispers, nor lively conversations as we strode through a series of defenseless villages on our way to Svitar.

Soon the rustic cottages and the dusty roads would turn to gravel and then to stone, becoming wider to accommodate traveling carriages and buggies.

Villages would turn into towns and in two days we’d reach the city walls of the City of Light.

We had to take Svitar soon. There was no time we could spare, and we had already wasted so many days caring for the wounded, nursing the ones that lived.

Each hour we wasted was another hour given to our enemy to gather, to prepare, for them to realize just how destroyed our armies were and how nonexistent our allies had become. We had to march today; we had to attack now, otherwise we’d be picked off one by one in the battles to come.

I called for every soldier we had. Soon the northern defense battalion would join us, surrounding the city on the north. The rest of Lachlan’s battalion would march on the south corridor and the remainder of our armies would come from the cursed east.

I forced myself to only focus on tactics and when my mind could no longer think of strategy and the slim odds of us winning, then I’d focus on the pain radiating through my body from my wounded shoulder that was still slowly healing. I kept my helm on, hiding the yellow bruises under my eyes from my broken nose. My thoughts, like sour milk, left everything bitter the further we marched from the chateau, from the cellar welded shut.

A little tremor went through my hand. I squeezed the hilt of my sword at my side tighter. I willed myself to take another step, propelling me forwarded, but my heart was, like a fucking string, taut, ready to snap and pull me back to the dark cellar, to her. Another step and I would fall apart, erupt in flames, burn to ashes, the heartache was unbearable. I wished a thousand arrows would tear me apart; I wished for sharp blades to cleave me in half, for the flames to sear me. Perhaps then I would feel the reprieve from agony that suffocated my heart.

But instead, I marched silently with my soldiers.

And I did not look back.

Minutes turned into hours; hills turned into flat valleys. The last village we past must have been an hour away, the next one already peeking on the horizon beyond the never-ending stretch of cornfields.

A loud horse’s huff yanked me from within the depth of my thoughts.

A rider, dressed in civil clothes, galloped towards us.

“Four battalions approaching. Fifteen clicks away.” My scout warned. “One calvary, one archer battalion and two infantries,” he proclaimed, pulling on the reins of the wary horse.

“Attack or defend?” I questioned him, my mind shifting to a predatory stance, my breaths becoming shallow yet calculated, saving every ounce of energy for the rapidly approaching battle.

“Attack. Though from the provisions they carry, they are prepared for a two-week journey.”

“The fuckers are coming to the chateau to finish us off,” Daibog swore near me.

“They don’t know we have already left,” Bear added. On instinct I turned to Broderick for his input, but he didn’t say a word, his glassy stare lingering on the horizon, the light around him weak, dwindling with each passing day.

I turned back to Bear and Daibog.

“They don’t know we are here. Let’s keep it that way.” We matched them in numbers, though we lacked calvary and our archers were our smallest group, not even enough for their own battalion. “Warn the battalion left at the chateau, have them prepare for battle should the worst come to pass,” I ordered, and the scout was already galloping ahead to the abandoned chateau behind the long stretch of hills.

“Form lines,” I shouted an order to the grim soldiers behind me. On my command they moved, creating a half circle in the field, crouching behind the stalky corn, prepared to ambush the quickly approaching army.

Seconds stretched on, and the minutes of waiting were agonizing. Not a word was exchanged between the soldiers hidden between the tall rows of corn.

The power within me jolted like a bolt of lightning at the loud clatter of the approaching army. Adrenaline coated my blood like iron and fire drummed to my hands, ready to lash out. I held my fist up, signaling the soldiers to hold.

We would have to let them march in closer, we’d encircle them, cutting off their archers first, calvary would be next, and infantry last. My thoughts chanted commands, playing out the battle in my head.

The enemy soldiers’ cheerful marching song became louder and clearer with each breath we took. My heart drummed against my chest in an anxious melody, and I let my powers flare, sending notes of courage to those standing behind me.

“Now!” I shouted and all of us jumped out of the fields, charging for the oblivious army ahead.

The initial arrows flew, and the first sparks of fire erupted between us. But when I thought the battle would explode and the clash of metal would ring in my ears, I only saw the enemy soldiers freeze mid attack, their bodies trembling, eyes widened and dense, sudden fear, like a tsunami rolling through the field, shocking me.

Confusion recoiled through me. Their archers stopped shooting, their horses reared up, throwing their riders as they ran. Their soldiers ran too. But not towards us. Away .

“Retreat!” they shouted, panicked. I paused, unsure of what to order next. My sword drawn, fire at my fingertips but there was no battle to be had.

I felt the roaring thunder then. A shadow as large as a fort encompassed the field.

I dared a look up. My mouth opened wide as two large black dragons’ bellies turned bright red right above me.

“Take cover!” I shouted, dropping to the ground, just in time before raw fire erupted from their giant maws, scorching the now running enemy and fields around them to sheer dust. But out in the open there was nowhere anyone could run or hide from the monstrous creatures in the sky. Creatures only heard of in the most ancient scrolls, spoken of only in myths, hovered above us, burning the earth with their raw fire.

Their wide stretched wings flapped, causing winds as wild as the most violent of storms. Their luminous yellow eyes, vicious and furious. A horrifying chill ran down my back and life and death flashed before my eyes as they pierced me with their gaze, as another round of flames blasted from their mouths and nostrils.

Nobody dared to move, questioning if their lives were next as the creatures landed, the earth shuddering under the weight of their large paws.

They have raw fire. A thought nudged me, and I dared to look up.

My mouth opened wide as I saw the small figures atop them, nestled between the thick spikes on the creature’s long neck.

Finn, and across her lap laid the unconscious body of Gideon.

On the slightly smaller dragon was Priya, paled and audibly cursing as she held on to the impenetrable scales of the creature.

The dragon’s yellow eyes shifted as Finn spoke something to it. It lowered its giant head at her command, and she slid down its large nose, standing in front of it.

None of us dared to stand, or to kneel, still gripping the dirt in our fists.

“I am sorry I couldn’t come sooner,” Finn uttered, glancing at the scorched fields where the enemy armies previously stood. None of us moved. She scanned the terrified soldiers around her, unsure. “The dragons are no threat to you,” she assured us with kindness in her voice, but we still didn’t dare so much as breathe or blink. “It’s okay. You are safe now.” She encouraged the soldiers. When nobody moved, she shouted, “Rise!”

But her command was met with silence. Not a very long one, as the dragon standing behind her huffed smoke, his chest glowing with a hint of red in warning. He growled then, the vibration reached our bones, reminding us of our feeble mortal state.

I rose first, but not fully, bending my knee and neck as I bowed low to her. Every soldier followed suit, one by one, kneeling and bowing to the Empress of Destroyers, the Queen of Dragons.

Finn scanned the crowds, her forehead wrinkled as she inspected each one of us. The muscle in her jaw twitched as she noticed our bodies battered and bruised, and the notable reduced number of our soldiers.

Finn swallowed, unsure of what to say, she opened her mouth, but before she could say a word,

a loud thud sounded against the ground as Priya fell off the creature, catching herself on all fours, before loudly retching.

“I am never fucking flying again.” She gagged on her bile, angrily flipping off the dragons and everyone around them.