Page 89 of A Curse of Breath and Blood

Brutus Strong, Gideon’s chief commander, rode a gray stallion through the rows of men, his face cracked from years of harsh terrain on countless battlefields. Behind him, two thick draft horses pulled a siege crossbow on a wagon. Four men sat atop the structure, loading a bolt into the bow.

Arrows rained down from the trees where the halflings had taken up residence, killing the men closest to the trees but missing the crossbow.

“Forward!” the centaur commanded. The armies of the sylph moved together in formation. Still, the Highland army stood firm.

The Court of Wings blasted the siege crossbow with their spears, killing one soldier, but that could not stop the inevitable.

The crossbow fired a heavy bolt of solid adamant into the air, skewering a Pegasus. The creature cried out in a deafening scream, falling from the sky. Its body slammed into the earth, killing two sylphs.

Gideon came prepared for war.

Lightning flickered at Caiden’s fingertips.

“Forward!” Brutus called to the men. Gideon’s army marched on. Their rhythmic footsteps shook the ground beneath their feet.

Caiden’s heart beat wildly in his chest.

The soldiers outnumbered them ten to one. He had to think fast.

Scanning the sylph forces, he spotted a centaur carrying a shield polished to a mirrored shine.

“Hold up your shield,” Caiden yelled over the sound of marching feet. The centaur nodded in understanding, tilting the shield toward the oncoming legion. Caiden sent a blast of lightning that ricocheted off the mirrored surface, splaying out like an electric scythe, taking off the heads of an entire row of soldiers.

Unfazed, Gideon’s men marched forward.

The clash of weapons echoed across the burning forest as creatures fought to maintain control of the Woodland Realm. Without the aid of the Wild Hunt, they would soon be slaughtered.

Cries of pain rang out as the fighting continued. Death hung in the air. Caiden had been to battle before, but this was a slaughter.There would be no honorable cease here. Gideon wanted them on their knees. And they would not go without a fight.

The three men fought side by side, revealing the blood coating their skin. Each kill, a notch on their belt.

“Hell of a solstice party? Am I right?” Caiden said through ragged breaths, as he stuck his sword through a Highland soldier. The boy’s youthful face stared up at him with empty eyes. Caiden swallowed the guilt in his chest. Gideon had sent his greenest men to be fodder.

“I always like it when they keep it interesting,” Lucius said, taking down a fat goblin with an arrow through the head. The creature toppled over like a sack of potatoes.

Roderick snapped his whip of light at two Highland soldiers, ripping them from head to pelvis. Three goblins jumped him from behind, but they were no match for the mammoth man. Pulling them off, one by one, he buried his ax in their thick skulls.

“Follow me! This is what we were born for,” he yelled to his men. Chaos danced in his eyes. His men would follow him anywhere, even into the bowels of hell if he asked.

Caiden did not know how long they could hold them.As if Illya had heard his prayers, a blinding light shot out from the Alder Palace, reaching into the heavens. The fighting ceased as soldiers from both sides stared, mouths agape, at the blinding light.

“The Alder King is dead,” said a voice from the crowd.

At the heart of the battlefield grew a twisted tree. Ripping through its gnarled bark, Tharan appeared, the crown of antlers resting on his head.

Caiden’s heart leapt into his throat at the sight of him. A fearsome king replaced the playboy prince. His green eyes shone with rage, and his scar glowed silver.

Tharan towered over the soldiers. Where once he had nails, now thick claws emerged from his fingers. He tilted his head backand howled a deep guttural sound, sending a shiver down Caiden’s spine. A call to the Wild Hunt.

“Enough,” he said in a deep and ancient voice. “This is my kingdom. My domain. You will not tread where you are not welcome.”

No one moved, for no one had seen an original’s power in a millennium. A growling sound came from the trees. The Hunt emerged with their golden bows knocked, waiting for Tharan’s signal. The hackles on their wolves’ backs raised.

Gideon’s men did not move.

“Hold steady,” Brutus yelled from atop his horse. “The Lady Erissa protects us!”

Tharan turned his head to face Brutus, eyes rolled white, his red hair gleamed in the firelight. “Your mage has fled, and so should you.”

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