Four elementalists — maybe more.
Ella looked at her green sleeve, noticing how the runes on her enchantress's dress had dimmed. She was certain she couldn't withstand another onslaught of fire. Burned alive, she thought. She hoped it would be quick.
As Ella waited for the end she heard singing, an eerie, sonorous sound, completely incongruous in the setting. The voice was surprisingly rich, a male tenor, clear and growing steadily in volume.
Impossible as it was, the realisation came to her.
Ella suddenly heard a squelching sound, like a knife slicing through a piece of fruit. Lying on her stomach, she couldn't see behind her, but she saw a spray of red and the pressure of the boot on her back fell away, followed by the thump of a body hitting the ground.
A shadow moved through the air, flickering and dancing, and this time Ella saw the flash of white-hot metal as it took one of the elementalists in front of her from neck to waist in a fountain of blood.
The next elementalist spoke some words in quick, harsh syllables. Three balls of fire left his hands in rapid succession to strike the shadow, smashing against it again and again, coating it in flame.
The singing grew louder to compensate, and even as the shadow blackened and charred it wavered, finally displaying a man in green, a fiery sword held in his hands. As he sang he leapt forward, and a single blow tore through his red-robed assailant, sending a wave of gore splattering onto the ground.
The elementalist standing over Shani's smoking form launched the two balls of fire he carried in the palms of his hands, and then gestured wildly as he screamed a stream of words, powerful activations that turned the cuffs at his wrists purple.
A wall of fire rose up between the elementalist and the swordsman in green. The flames crackled, sending forth a furious wave of heat that drove the swordsman back. The elementalist then put his wrists together and pulled them slowly apart. In between his wrists, connecting the cuffs, there was now a single line of purple fire, too bright to look at.
The elementalist looked down at Shani. He started to crouch down, ready to drive the line of fire across her neck.
"No!" the single word came from the swordsman. He leapt through the wall of flame, his song forgotten, completely disregarding the danger. Once on the other side he spoke a sequence and flung out his arm, pointing his blade at the elementalist. A bolt of pure energy left the point of the sword and struck the Petryan in the throat.
The elementalist toppled over, his eyes already sightless as he hit the ground.
"You women are a lot of trouble," Bartolo said, before he too, fell to the ground, his blackened armoursilk flickering as the magic left it.
34
AFTER a short time that felt like an eternity, Ella finally rushed back to the Poltoi Palace with healers. Fortunately, no more surprises awaited the prince's men, and the palace was soon secured. While Shani and Bartolo were under the care of two Hazaran elders and Ella paced outside, Prince Ilathor came to her to confirm the battle was over.
Tlaxor was taken, yet High Lord Haptut Alwar had somehow escaped.
The prince tried to talk to her, but Ella left him and walked back down to the city's gate, looking down at the splashes of blood on the ground. It was over now, she thought, still dazed, realising she was lucky to be alive.
She looked out the gate and over the frozen lake at the shore. She had enabled this city to be taken. It was a strange feeling.
A Petryan suddenly rushed up to the gate, staring out at the lake, soon joined by another. The prince's men stirred and kicked their horses into motion, coming over to where a growing crowd of Petryans stood looking out the gate.
"What is it?" Ella asked.
"It's Haptut Alwar," the Petryan said, pointing. "I would stake my life on it."
All thoughts of confrontation forgotten, the Hazarans and the Petryans stood side by side looking at the man walking on the expanse of frozen water.
The solitary figure moved across the ice, richly dressed, a chest in his arms.
"We'll catch him," one of the Hazarans said.
"Will you put him on trial?" said one of the Petryans.
"If that's what you want," a voice to Ella's side spoke, and turning, she saw Prince Ilathor beside her.
"No," the Petryan said, his words tinged with venom. "Trial would be too good for the man whose favourite method of execution was to boil a man in the lake."
"Or a child," said another Petryan.
"Or a woman," said another.
"You might have your wish granted," Prince Ilathor said.
Ella looked at the lake, and realised what she had been staring at but was too dazed to realise.
Steam rose from the ice.
"I thought you said a full day, Ella?" said the prince.
Ella looked out in the direction of Torlac. A thin trail of smoke curled up from the area of the town. She hoped no one had been hurt. The cellars under the barracks were far from the homes of the locals.
"It looks like I was wrong," Ella said.