“The flames are yours,” she said. “Take them.”
And then the fire erupted back to life, only this time engulfing the paladin and his horse, consuming them. He opened his mouth in a final, horrific scream matched only by the dying cries of his mount. After but a second, they were both silenced, the heat so intense, the dark paladin was ash and bone before his melting armor hit the ground, landing amid a cloud of all he had once been.
“Come on,” Delysia said, turning and offering her hand. Haern took it, and together they fled into the wheat fields, Thren at their heels, as dozens of horses from the Stronghold thundered in chase.
They said nothing as they ran, all concentration on putting one foot in front of the other. Haern felt the toll of his imprisonment wearing on him, his heart pounding and his lungs gasping for each breath. He did everything he knew to ignore the pain, but it didn’t take long until Delysia was tugging on his arm to keep him moving. With how tall and tight the wheat grew, he could only see Thren on occasion, trailing alongside them, his head constantly on a swivel. The horses were spreading out, and it’d only be a matter of time before they were spotted.
“Delysia,” Haern said, his hand slipping free from hers. Noticing, she stopped, rushed back to him. A glowing hand touched his chest as her body pressed against his.
“Stay strong,” she said, and he felt the exhaustion in his body fade as if it had never been. On impulse, he kissed her forehead, then grabbed her hand.
“Stay with me,” he said, and they resumed their run, this time with him in the lead. To their right, a paladin burst through the wheat, and Haern dropped to the ground as the horse passed on by. Too close, he knew. Just a matter of time, but they had to run, had to keep gaining distance. Every second that passed, more of the paladins were waking up, throwing on their armor, grabbing their weapons, and rushing out into the night to join the chase. Distance was their friend, delay their enemy.
Another rode on to their left, and when he let out a cry, Haern knew they’d been spotted. To confirm, Thren rejoined their side, shouting orders.
“Surprise is our only hope!” he shouted. “Crouch low, and cut them down as they ride by!”
Between the darkness and the wheat, any rider would have difficulty spotting them, and Haern knew his father was right. In open battle against an armored, horsed rider? Hopeless. But cutting them down as they closed about, keeping them off-balance and confused? Haern dropped to his knees, willing himself into becoming a specter of the fields, a coiled animal ready to strike. At his side, his father did the same as Delysia ducked low, watching intently.
The rider who had first spotted them came back around, still calling for his allies. He rode mere feet to their left, and as he passed, Thren lashed out, thrusting a short sword beneath the man’s plate mail and into his ribs. As the man screamed, Thren pulled the blade free and then smacked the horse with the flat edge, sending it bolting away.
Two more came riding in from the other direction, and Haern timed their arrival. Their aim was off, the two clearly not yet having located them, so he knew he’d have his chance. Running while crouched, he shifted aside at the last second, both swords slicing into the legs of the nearest mount. It let out a horrible noise as it crumpled, trapping the rider beneath it as it continued to let out pained screams. Before the other paladin could stop, Haern rushed around to the other side, jammed a blade into the throat of the trapped man, and then sprinted back toward Delysia and Thren. As he did, he saw another paladin veer away, having just barely avoided an ambush by his father.
“It’s not enough,” Thren said as he joined his side.
“Look,” Delysia said, pointing. The paladins had grouped together, nine of them at least, and they circled around them on their horses. They did not close in nor attempt to find them within the vicinity. Haern frowned, none too pleased with the strategy, and then the largest of the riders curled in, riding in a circle just barely within the others. From the feet of his midnight-black mount burst flames, as if its hooves were the center of a bonfire. Around and around it looped as Haern, Thren, and Delysia pressed against each other, back-to-back. The fire grew, its center a deep purple, its outer reaches darker than the night itself.
“Stay with me!” Delysia cried as the fire roared to life, rolling toward them from all sides. The priestess’s hands lifted above her head, locked together in prayer as the wheat blackened and collapsed into ash from the fire’s passing. Just before they themselves were consumed, Delysia let out a cry, flinging down her arms and grabbing Haern and Thren by the shoulders. He felt a tingling, and then the fire passed over him. His skin was not burned, nor did he feel its heat, yet beneath his feet, ash gathered from the charred wheat.
The spell ended, and circling them were the nine dark paladins. Their cover was gone, as was any surprise, any hiding. Now in the open, Haern lifted his sabers and stood protectively before Delysia.
“Go down fighting,” he said. “You don’t want to be taken to their dungeons.”
“Speak for yourself,” Thren said. “The only ones dying this night are our enemies.”
The nine dismounted, drawing weapons wreathed in black flame. They stayed close, steadily closing the gap to prevent any hope of them punching through. Among themselves, the paladins gave quick orders, keeping their approach controlled, their eventual assault in perfect unison.
“Listen to me,” Thren said, tilting his head toward them, yet keeping his eyes on the dark paladins before him. “If we’re to live, you have to hold nothing back. Every bit of your power, every bit of your rage, it must be let free. Unleash death upon them, or we die ourselves.”
“I know how to fight,” Haern growled.
Thren’s eyes flicked to Delysia.
“My words were for her.”
Tighter and tighter the circle closed, a wall of swords, axes, and plate mail.
“Our lives or theirs, priestess,” Thren whispered. “Make your choice.”
With a unified cry, the dark paladins rushed in, and Haern took Thren’s advice to heart. Hold nothing back. He knew how to become that animal. He knew how to unleash that power. Harnessing every bit of his anger, frustration, and doubt from his imprisonment, he lunged toward the closest paladins, charging just as they themselves issued the orders to attack. With his back to her, he did not see the brilliant flash of light Delysia cast, but he saw its flare in the eyes of his foes, saw them cry out, blinded. Two at once he fought, slipping through their frantic defenses, twisting his body to avoid being chopped in half from the right shoulder down. His saber found the throat of one, then both blades crashed into the sword of another, batting it three times so quickly, it sounded like a single ring.
And then he was away, racing toward the other side of the circle, crashing right alongside his father into a group of three. Side by side they fought, blades dancing, perfect mirrors of the other. Thren slammed the sword of one out of position, screaming in pain from the fire that encased the weapon, and then Haern plunged a saber through the armpit of the man. It wasn’t deep enough to kill, but the man could press no further. Behind him, Delysia had cast another flare of light, knocking back the other half of the group, but she was exposed and Haern would not let them overwhelm her.
Back to the other side he rushed, and his father joined him. He leaped past Delysia, dropping into a roll to duck beneath the swing of an ax, then coming about to stab at the man’s back. He turned to block it, and then Thren slammed into him, smashing him to the ground with both short swords puncturing his face. Haern rushed left, Thren right, each engaging another paladin while they still had some measure of surprise. Their foes held strong, falling back while expertly positioning their blades. Each time their swords made contact with that black fire, Haern felt an ache growing in his hands and at the center of his chest, an ache that would soon leave him in agony from the unholy powers they wielded.