Bannon never knew what caused his blood rage. Maybe it was some angry flaw he had inherited from his brutal father. When the mindless fury consumed him, he became a killing machine with no thought or awareness other than his opponent. He couldn’t remember every blow or even every victim.
As he hacked at King Grieve and his vision blurred into that fugue of murderous energy, Bannon fought to hold on to himself and push back the haze. He wanted to remember this! He slashed hard and up, barely missing Grieve’s throat.
“Sweet Sea Mother!” Bannon said, grinding his teeth. “I’ll slay you, and I will remember every instant of this fight.”
The king flung his shoulders back to avoid the sword tip, then lunged toward Bannon. Grieve’s face turned ruddy. “You cannot kill me. I am the serpent god!”
Bannon made a scoffing noise. “I’ve already seen the serpent god killed.”
With a shout as loud and as violent as the king’s, he collided with Grieve, swung, chopped, stabbed. The king defended himself, using the metal cuff around his wrist to deflect a blow, turning to let his sharkskin vest catch the glancing blade.
Bannon did not relent. He thrust and swung and hacked at the big man’s shoulder, chopping loose an implanted bone spike. Grieve yowled as blood sprayed from the gouge, but the pain triggered additional energy. “I am King Grieve. I am the serpent god!” Bannon dodged another vicious sweep of the war axe. “You’ll all grieve!”
The explosive strength of his attack was unstoppable. The king drove Bannon backward, pressing him against a crate near the rail. Grieve raised his war axe over his head and brought it down with enough strength to split his victim from head to waist. Bannon evaded death by a hairsbreadth, and the axe embedded itself deep into the wood. The blade wedged into the rail and stuck in the thick layers of adhesive slime. King Grieve grasped the handle, tugged, twisted, tried to break the axe loose.
As King Grieve struggled to wrench his weapon free, Bannon seized the instant. Putting all the strength of his back and shoulders and arms behind his sword strike, he chopped down on King Grieve’s neck.
The sharp blade cut all the way through the king’s spine. Grieve’s head rolled off, held by just a scrap of skin. His jaw yawned open and his tongue dangled out as blood spouted. Stretched by the weight, the thin ribbon of tissue snapped, and Grieve’s head dropped over the side of the ship and into the churning water.
Bannon collapsed to his knees and felt a sudden indrawn breath of silence. He seemed to hear Chalk’s voice, the shaman calling out gibberish again and again. And now Bannon understood.
The axe cleaves the wood. The sword cleaves the bone.
A scream loud enough to shatter glass rolled out behind him. Atta looked as if her heart had just been torn beating from her chest. “My Grieve!” She thundered toward him with all the fury of a combat bear.
Grieve’s headless body collapsed to the deck. Some of the krakener crew cheered, then threw themselves on the other Norukai with redoubled force.
Atta came at Bannon like a rabid dog, and he raised his sword to block her. Everything seemed to move slowly, and his weary muscles were cold sludge. When Atta was one step from him, her sword raised for the killing blow, Lila appeared behind her and thrust her blade directly through the other woman’s back. She shoved hard with both hands, pushing the blade through Atta’s heart, and the point sprang out like a sharpened sapling between her breasts.
Dying, Atta flailed her arms, then let her curved sword fall with a clatter to the deck. She pawed at the steel point that had sprouted from her chest, slicing her palms. Though Atta was much heftier than her slender opponent, Lila held the big woman up with the sword. Dark blood flowed in puddles.
Finally, Atta slid down along the cutting blade, and Lila let the body fall onto the deck.
CHAPTER 78
A ripple of dismay passed through Zimmer’s standing army as they wheeled about to face the horde of ancient soldiers that appeared on the outskirts of the city. Battle horns sounded, and a roar of voices rose like a thunderclap from Utros and his warriors.
Zimmer rallied his fighters, “We are the D’Haran army! We stand against all enemies!”
“We are more than that,” Nicci said. “We also have thousands of refugees armed and hungry for vengeance. Now they have their chance.”
Meanwhile, the Norukai raiders fought their way deeper into the streets of Tanimura, yowling like crazed beasts. They let out a resounding cheer upon seeing their allies arrive, which virtually assured their victory. They burned and ransacked whatever they touched. The two enemy armies closed in on the city like flames fanned by a stiff breeze.
Nearby, a Norukai warrior tilted his head back and laughed at the sky, twirling a club in his hand. Annoyed, Nicci burned him to ash with wizard’s fire, and his club clattered to the ground, still clutched by smoking fingers.
Spurring his warhorse, Zimmer led a charge through the chaotic Norukai, trying to get closer to Nicci. She shoved with a wall of hardened air to clear the way for him. Sweat dripped down the general’s face, and his right cheek was splattered with blood. He glanced at Utros’s enormous army outside the city, his expression grim. “Now I see the wisdom in your insistence on keeping so many troops on land. I don’t know if our entire army will be enough to stop General Utros from conquering the city.”
Out on the water, the Tanimuran navy had smashed and sunk many serpent ships, but along the waterfront dozens of Norukai vessels had plowed into the piers and disgorged more and more bloodthirsty barbarians. Meanwhile, Utros directed tens of thousands of ancient soldiers toward Tanimura from the opposite side, broken into several enormous divisions to engulf the city. Countless defenders and innocent citizens would be slaughtered in the coming hours.
Nicci didn’t underestimate the mayhem the Norukai would cause, but Utros was a conqueror. She feared him more. “I need to mount a strong defense against the ancient marching army. I leave you to stop these raiders, General. Are you capable?”
He let out a loud chuckle. “Am I capable? Lord Rahl would be ashamed of me if one of his generals couldn’t stop a crowd of ugly raiders. We will show them how we fight for D’Hara. Take the militia members with you and stop Utros.”
At Zimmer’s signal, one of his adjutants blew a war horn to signal the vengeful militia members, most of whom had only a few days of training. With her gift, Nicci amplified her voice to reach all the way to the rear ranks of people from Renda Bay, from Effren, from Larrikan Shores, from other destroyed towns. “To the hills! We have to cut off General Utros and his army.”
Yet another serpent ship slammed into the piers, and Zimmer rallied his soldiers for a forward charge. Hundreds of blades flashed as the D’Haran army ran to meet the Norukai. He called over his shoulder, “Go, Sorceress!”
Thaddeus raised his borrowed sword and called on his people from Renda Bay, while the freed slave Rendell adjusted a leather helmet that sat askew on his head and shouted to his own squad. A hundred armed refugees under his command ran along with him.
Utros’s army carried tattered pennants with Kurgan’s ancient flame emblem, as well as new flags with an even larger symbolic fire. At the forefront of the enemy ranks Nicci could identify the general by his distinctive horned helmet and a glint of gold from his mask. He seemed to regard the city below as if it were a fat calf to be slaughtered. His sorceress rode beside him, crackling with magic as she called a storm cloud above her.
Separated into broad divisions to attack the city, tens of thousands marched across the forested hills. One division curled around to the northern end of Tanimura, while General Utros and Ruva directed the bulk of the army. The division nearest Nicci and her militia entered the dark expanse of the Hagen Woods just above the flattened ruins of Halsband Island. They plodded relentlessly forward, and once through the thick woods they would trample the lowtown and outlying residential areas to overwhelm the core of Tanimura.
That was also the area Nicci knew best because of her t
ime among the Sisters. She shouted to her fighters as she led them in that direction, “To the woods! We will use the forest to our advantage.”
The Hagen Woods had long been a sinister place. The Sisters of the Dark had performed their bloody sacrifices and horrific initiation rituals here. The place was already soaked with blood, and now she would give the soil more.
Thousands of eager militia members followed her. Rendell and Thaddeus seemed to be competing with each other, racing ahead to fight back. On their way, the fighters crossed the city district nearest the bridges to Halsband Island, where countless clothiers, food merchants, craftsmen, candlemakers, weavers, and stonecutters had once thrived by serving the Palace of the Prophets, along with taverns, gambling dens, and whorehouses that were patronized by the trainees of the Sisters. After the destruction of the palace, though, the district had fallen on hard times, and many of the homes were abandoned.
As her refugee fighters ran through the empty streets to intercept the army division, they passed a few families who huddled in their homes, mothers and fathers holding crude weapons ready to fight if the war came to them. Nicci called back a warning: “We’ll try to hold them off, but if the soldiers break through from the Hagen Woods, then you must flee. You can’t hope to stop them.”
The ancient army had already flooded into the thick forest on their way to the lowtown, but Nicci paused at the edge of the dark pines and tangled oaks. “These dense woods will work to our advantage. The enemy soldiers will have to break ranks as they move through the trees. We’ll attack them and kill them. We cannot let them reach the city.”
