Page 17 of The Darkest Knight

Chapter Eight

The kingdom had two kinds of warriors, sentinels, whose main form was as a wolf and shifters, who remained in human form mostly. Along with Atlandia’s mounted warriors—most of whom were also shifters—Niall and Padriag held back as the battle against Meliot’s forces began. As soon as the black wolves descended over a hill, Atlandia’s sentinels sprang forward with so much speed it was a blur as they charged. The sounds of snarls and howls filled the air as the shifters and wolves fought.

Niall did his best to keep up with what transpired, but it was hard to tell as the wolves and shifters moved at supernatural speeds. It seemed Atlandia’s wolves were larger and were winning so far.

Deep growls sounded as mounted armored horsemen came into view. Niall looked to his left, where Argo sat upon a huge warhorse. All the horses wore magically warded plates around their breast, sides and legs. The animals pawed the ground and grunted, filling the cold air with the steam of their breath. It seemed they were anxious to enter the fight.

“Arms!” Argo called out and swords were yanked from scabbards, mines swung in the air and lances fell forward. Niall held his longsword in his right hand, leaving his other weaponry on his body. Daggers were strapped across his armored chest, a short sword at his right hip and a claymore on his left.

The pounding of the horses’ hooves on the ground was like thunder as they rode through the tangle of wolves still battling and on toward Meliot’s soulless warriors. One last glance to ensure Padriag was next to him was reassuring. An excellent archer, Liam had been recruited to the archery group and remained behind with the archers.

Battle was one of the few times Niall was grateful for being a warrior in his past life in the other realm. With a wide swing, his longsword sent several of Meliot’s warriors flying from their perches and onto the ground, deep cuts through their mid sections. Within moments, the enemy fighters gave him wide berth, hoping he’d be taken down by an arrow.

Not relenting, he turned his horse around and charged to where Padriag fought. While the young knight fought one opponent, another came from behind. The fighter screamed in pain at an unexpected strike across his waist and back. Niall followed the hit with a second blow, his blade cutting the fighter’s head off.

Padriag’s sword plunged into his opponent’s stomach and the warrior fell from his steed onto the now bloody ground.

“I had it all under control,” Padriag called out, frowning at Niall. “I knew that guy was behind me. I was ready with my Ninja moves.”

“What about him?” Niall motioned with his head as a warrior charged toward Padriag, a sharp lance dangerously close.

Letting out a long breath, Padriag flung his left hand toward the lance-carrying man, sending him flying through the air until landing atop several wolves, who then attacked him.

“If you can use your magic, why are you not?” Niall yelled as he dispatched another opponent. “You are an idiot.”

“Not as fun,” Padriag yelled back.

Although both forces were about evenly matched, Niall wasn’t sure who was besting the other side. As the fight continued, arrows flew, hitting both bands of warriors.

“Do something,” Niall called out, glaring at Padriag.

“It won’t be a fair fight,” Padriag waved his hands as if directing music and yelled out words that sounded like gibberish. Instantly, the arrow seemed to stop midair and fell to the ground, neither side able to penetrate the invisible barrier.

Padriag directed his horse towards Niall. Both fought off opponents and the younger man blew out a breath. “Unfortunately the shield blocks arrows from all sides, but it’s better than nothing. I don’t want to get pierced through when I’m about to get freed.”

Without looking, Padriag yanked a dagger from his belt and flung it over his shoulder, the blade impaled a warrior charging toward him right between the eyes. “I don’t wanna look,” Padriag said with a mock shiver. “Is it bad?”

Niall ignored him.

It wasn’t much longer before it was apparent that Atlandia’s forces were winning the battle. Meliot’s warriors retreated, leaving behind the dead and injured.

Niall was finally able to sag with exhaustion, his entire body wet with sweat and blood. He’d not kept count of how many he’d killed. Considering the lack of blood on some of the fallen, most of Meliot’s warriors weren’t human.

Liam rushed toward him and Padriag, his gaze moving over them. “Are either of you injured?”

It took a moment for Niall to assess himself. As far as he could tell, none of the blood was his. After flexing both arms and running hands over his torso, he was satisfied he was uninjured.

“I think I broke something,” Padriag said. He held up his left hand to show the two outer fingers were bent unnaturally. “Ouch.”

Liam tore a strip of fabric from the hem of Padriag’s shirt and, after straightening the broken fingers whilst Padriag gritted his teeth, he bound them together and tied them to the other two to keep them immobile.

The warriors began inventory of the dead and wounded, the latter being loaded onto wagons to be brought to healers. As night came, the human warriors hurried toward the safety of the castle to avoid the impending icing.

Upon reaching the safety of the castle, the men’s clothing was removed by servants, and they were directed to the bathing rooms. It was like a cave. Water streamed from shallow trenches that stuck out from the walls into two large bathing pools. From one wall, cylinders protruded spouting water onto the wet stone floor.

Niall went directly to one of the cylinders, deciding he didn’t want to bathe in water filled with men who were covered in blood and other unrecognizable things. It seemed most had the same idea as soon lines formed at the waterfalls.

As the tepid water washed away the battle soil, Niall closed his eyes, allowing the falling water to massage his battered body.