By the Sword

chapter Seventeen



Deep within the magician’s lair of the castle, the warlocks chanted in unison. Their deep, solemn voices echoed throughout the cave. The cloaked forms stood close to one another around a growing plume of smoke, swaying uniformly.

“Stop!” shouted Uittan.

Immediately, the chanting ceased. The mist dissolved and all of the magicians turned their hooded heads to face their intruder.

“How dare you interrupt us?” growled one of them.

He removed his hood, revealing angry blue eyes.

“What is your name?” asked Uittan.

“My name is Mote. State your business or die.”

“Mote, I dare to interrupt you because the God who is far more powerful than your wicked lord sent me!”

“Kill him,” said Mote.

The warlocks began to chant one of their spells, but Uittan held up his hand.

“Stop. You have no power over me. The blood of my Savior will protect me against any weapon that the devil throws. Jesus sent me here so that you might know the same truth.”

“Fool!” cried one of them.

A deep rumble resounded throughout the cave as the ground quaked beneath their feet. The magicians ceased their chanting, looking around nervously.

“Why have you stopped?” shouted Mote.

The magicians scattered, except for their leader.

“Aterun will have you thrown out of the brotherhood – or worse – when he hears about this!”

One of them stepped forward, eyes wide.

“But the power has gone out of us! When we chant, nothing happens.”

“You are giving in to the cheap trickery of their God!”

A near deafening explosion came from the cauldron room. All was quiet for a few moments. Then, all of the warlocks bounded out of the gathering room. They stopped once they saw the complete destruction of their scrolls, books, and cauldrons. The statue of their lord had been shattered to pieces. God had destroyed every imaginable thing to do with magic in their lair.

Uittan’s pulse raced.

Some of the magicians wept. Mote walked up to the broken statue and touched a piece of it. He faced Uittan with moist, reddened eyes.

“It can’t be,” he said. “This statue was crafted by the prince himself to be indestructible, but… it’s… it’s ruined! This is impossible.”

“Of course it is not impossible to destroy something created by someone that turned his back on his Creator,” said Uittan gently.

The lead warlock tore at the collar of his robe and sank to his knees.


Tanel’s leg muscles burned as he ran down a hill with all of his might. The great monster was gaining on them. He imagined its great fangs sinking into him at any minute, severing him in two or tossing him high into the air like a rag doll.

“Die, beast!” shouted a loud, deep voice.

Tanel stopped and looked back.

The giants!

Six of the large men accosted the enormous creature with their long, powerful spears. It fought back with fervency, but Saclam managed to spear it right through its long neck, and it fell at once.

“Thank you!” called Tanel.

The giant nodded and continued on to the next monster.

Tanel remembered the catapults then. He glanced at Atalsa and Wenyn, who were still catching their breaths nearby.

“That was close,” said Wenyn.

“Too close,” said Atalsa.

“We should make our way down to the catapults. We will eliminate yet another one of Ittonifer’s advantages,” said Tanel.

Atalsa and Wenyn nodded.

“God has protected us this far. I believe that He will see us through this as well,” said Tanel.

The archers charged with a renewed vigor toward Ittonifer’s castle.


Ittonifer trembled with rage as his nephew blocked another swing. Jalarn glared at him. He had chosen that girl over everything that Ittonifer had given to him. What a fool.

“You dare to go against me in my own castle after all that I have done for you? Now you will both die!”

A sharp pain seared though Ittonifer’s left shoulder. The little wench had stabbed him. He spun around. Talya backed away, holding her sword out in front of her.

Ittonifer slashed her right shoulder and she stumbled backward. The beatings and the spell had taken their toll on her as it was. She wouldn’t last long now with the fresh, gaping wound.

Ittonifer blocked a swing from Jalarn that was aimed at his neck. The former general stared, wide-eyed, at Talya.

“Get out of here, Talya. You’re too weak to fight,” said Jalarn.

“I can’t leave you here alone.”

Sickening whelps!

Ittonifer took a run at Talya, who had just managed to get back on her feet. She steadied herself against the wall, clearly delirious. He jabbed her in the thigh before quickly spinning around to block Jalarn’s next attack.

Talya’s legs gave out and she fell onto her backside. She would bleed to death in no time.

“You have to leave now!” said Jalarn.

Ittonifer could not believe what had unfolded. After so many years of hard work and dedication, Jalarn had thrown it all away – for General Edandir’s daughter, no less. He would have killed her a week ago.


Chrissa pressed on through the fighting crowd. Her sword collided with another enemy’s. At least she now had full assurance of where she would go when she died. She had never known such peace as she had when she had accepted the Savior into her torn heart the night before. He had mended it like she never could have imagined. It was an honor to fight for the country that upheld the respect and freedom of all people.

The giants were working on bringing down another great beast, which made it easier for her and the other knights to make their way into the heat of the battle. Only seven of her father’s vicious animals remained now.

Two Malinorian knights charged at her. Chrissa dodged a jab from one and stabbed the other one in the stomach. He fell to the ground with a grunt. Her father had trained her well. Now she could use her skill for the right cause.

Chrissa regained her balance as another warrior came at her. They slammed their swords together. Her arms ached from the impact, but that would not stop her from conquering him. She feigned a jab at his torso and then brought her sword through his chest.

She moved a few more paces before running into another brute. He charged at her, his broad sword high above his head. She ducked under his swing and tripped him, sending the large Malinorian into the ground.

He stood again and looked at her.

“What is it going to take for you to be mine?” he asked.

“Naeshi?”

She recognized his striking eyes and the scorpion emblem on his breastplate then.

“I never would have dreamed that I would find you out here,” he said.

“You never did know anything about me,” said Chrissa.

A roar came from behind Chrissa and she turned around, blocking a Malinorian knight’s swing just in time. She slashed at his throat before he could attack her again.

Then, she remembered that Naeshi was still right behind her.

Too late.

Naeshi wrapped one of his arms around her and brought his sword to her throat with the other.

“If you struggle this time, I will kill you,” he said.


Tanel and the other archers had nearly reached the thick of the battle. It appeared that the catapults had run out of ammunition for the time being. The flaming boulders had ceased falling.

He glanced over his shoulder. The unnatural creatures were still lashing out their demoniac fury on his fellow soldiers and knights. The ten giants were working hard at taking down a serpent with long, razor-sharp fangs. The beasts were not as difficult to defeat as Ittonifer had counted on.

Tanel returned his attention to the task at hand – to take out the catapult operators before they started firing again.

A scream only a few paces away distracted him. It was Chrissa. A Malinorian warrior had thrown her over his shoulder, carrying her into the heart of the battle. It must have been that same bull-headed man who’d come to their camp and attacked the general.

Anger surged through Tanel. He fired an arrow into the man’s leg. Naeshi yelped and dropped Chrissa as he tried to remove the arrow. He looked up and saw Tanel.

“You again!” he shouted.

In one fluid motion, Chrissa yanked the sword out of his sheath and held the point of its blade to his neck. She looked over at Tanel and nodded her gratitude.

The willowy girl could hold her own. Like Talya.

Relieved, Tanel followed the other archers into the thick of the fighting. Wenyn and Atalsa used their short-range archery skills, while Tanel unsheathed his sword, fighting only those who attacked him. He just wanted to get to the shooters quickly.


General Edandir stared up at Ittonifer’s tall castle. He caught sight of the men that were releasing the catapults at his army.

First thing’s first.

The first pair of soldiers had been so focused on firing their artillery that they did not even notice Edandir approaching them. They were not wearing masks like the others.

A stupid decision.

Edandir jumped off of his dragon and drove his blade through the first one’s back. His partner gaped and clumsily reached for his sword. Edandir pointed his blade at the youthful Malinorian.

“I suggest that you get out of here. Now,” said Edandir.

Wide-eyed, the lad stumbled away from the catapult.

Edandir glanced at the fireball projector to his left. The two soldiers that operated it were already running toward him. Then, they were both on the ground, each with an arrow sticking out of his chest.

Tanel, Wenyn, and several other archers had infiltrated the area.

“We’ll take it from here, General,” said Tanel.

Edandir was relieved that Talya’s friend still stood.

I am going to make that boy a commander.

Edandir sheathed his sword, grabbed hold of a crevice in the castle’s stone wall, and started to climb.


Chrissa held her sword at Naeshi’s thick neck. Now was her chance to end the life of the man that had been hunting her down for the past year, but it took more courage than she realized. She didn’t want him to die.

The other men that Chrissa had slain that day were faceless enemies, but she had known Naeshi for most of her life. Although he had turned her life into a living hell recently, she couldn’t bring herself to kill him.

Naeshi laughed.

“You want to fight like a man, but you’re too squeamish to kill me!”

“Stop mocking me and accept that God has been merciful to you. I am giving you a second chance. Let us part ways.”

“Die, wench!” shouted another Malinorian warrior to Chrissa’s left.

She barely dodged his powerful swing in time. Before he unleashed his scythe on her, she stabbed him in the stomach, stopping him short. Her sword had penetrated through his lightweight armor, but it did not do as much damage as she had intended. The knight’s eyes widened as blood seeped out of the fresh wound.

In her peripheral vision, Chrissa saw the shadow of another enemy coming at her right side. She blocked a stab from the warrior in front of her. She tried to turn and face the other man to her side, but he already had his strong arms wrapped around her mid-section.

She turned her sword around and thrust its blade backward. The warrior grunted and let go of her. A man with a scorpion breastplate lay still on the ground. Naeshi was gone.

The knight with the swinging scythe lunged toward her again. Chrissa leaped out of the way and managed a gash on the man’s exposed lower back. He whirled around and took a run at her, but the ground shook from underneath them. Her enemy stopped and looked in the direction of the noise.

A giant black lizard with rows of razor-sharp teeth was running toward them. Chrissa and the Malinorian both ran, but the reptile caught the man in its powerful jaws and ate him whole.

Chrissa stared, paralyzed by the horrific sight. It would come for her next. She backed up with her sword outstretched in front of her. She was ready to slash at it when it lunged for her. She was not going to die without a fight.

It licked its chops and glared at her.

Chrissa swallowed hard and braced herself. It tilted its head, blinked once, and rushed after a section of enemy knights. She stared after it, confused.

“It seems as though Ittonifer’s big plan has bit him in the rump.”

Chrissa turned and looked up to see one of the giants standing beside her. He was younger than the other ones. It was Saclam’s grandson, if she recalled correctly.

“They’re only going after the Malinorians now?” she asked.

“Something switched in them a short time ago. Looks like Ittonifer’s magic strategy has failed. God has shown Himself. And to think I had doubted Him all this time. I only agreed to aid your country because I wanted to crush that bloodthirsty empire. I suppose it’s never too late to believe.”

“No, it certainly isn’t,” Chrissa smiled.


Blood seeped from Talya’s fresh wounds. She could barely stand, let alone defend herself. She leaned against the wall of the prison as Jalarn fought his uncle. She was too weak to fight, but she couldn’t leave him. Not now.

“Jalarn, there is nothing that you could have done that the Savior cannot forgive. It’s not too late,” she said.

“Those are the words from a defeated wretch,” said Ittonifer.

Ittonifer took a step toward her, but Jalarn slashed at him, driving him away.

The sound of rapidly approaching footsteps caught Talya’s attention. Someone was coming. Her vision blurred as her entire body quivered. She was losing too much blood too fast.

“Jalarn…” she tried to call, but her voice only came out as a faint whisper.

Strong hands picked her up by the under arms and carried her away from the prison cell and down a dark hallway.

“Talya, can you hear me?” asked the voice.

It was General Edandir. Her father. There was fear in his tone.

She tried to open her eyes, but she was so tired.

“Father, we have to go back. Jalarn is still in there. You have to help him.”

“Talya, you’ve lost so much blood.”

Talya fought her exhaustion in frustration. Her father was not listening to her. She did not have the energy to argue with him, but she had to try.

“He… he’s so close. You have to go back and… help him.”

“Save your strength and try not to talk.”

“You don’t understand. Jalarn… saved my life. He – he needs help.”

Her lids fluttered open. Her father glared at her for a moment before gently setting her down on his dragon’s saddle. They were in the air within moments.

“Please…” she whispered.

Talya tried to fight against the weakness that had overcome her, but instead she slipped away into darkness.


General Edandir landed his firedrake at the camp. He quickly carried Talya to the physician’s tent. He set her down on a wooden bench. Seline rushed in and immediately bound her deep gashes.

“Don’t you have a softer bed for her?” Edandir asked.

Seline eyed him.

“That is not a priority right now.”

Edandir swallowed as dread formed in the pit of his stomach.

Talya’s blood had already seeped through the bandages. Her slender body trembled.

Edandir was going to kill Ittonifer for this.

“She’s lost so much blood already,” said Seline.

“Which means you will do what it takes to save her.”

The doctor administered another layer of bandages over Talya’s wounds and then placed three layers of thick blankets over her body.

Edandir couldn’t lose her. She was too young to die and he loved her so much.

“Why didn’t I forbid her to fight?”

“She wouldn’t have listened to you,” said the doctor.

Edandir sat next to Talya’s bed and held her much smaller hand with both of his. She was still just a child. A full life was well ahead of her. But she had risked it for God. It was something that her mother would have done in a heartbeat.

“Please, do whatever you must to save her.”

“Of course I will, but I can’t make any promises.”

Edandir kissed Talya’s forehead and rushed out of the tent. He was angry at Seline’s lack of faith. Talya couldn’t die. She had a strong will. She had done what God had asked of her. Surely He would honor that and look after her.

Edandir eyed the sky. The sun was much lower on the horizon than where it had been when the battle began. He had to get back and help his army.