Luther's Pride Part 26

The pull of magic tugged at Eira’s spirit as her gaze pierced the veil of time. Luther felt it and glanced at the others. Now might be a good time to see if he could perform the arcanum, but the fight below distracted him, keeping his mind focused on what was happening. 

Agatha rolled to her feet once Bertilak stepped back, and the bear interposed itself between them. She summoned a shield made of pure magic that clung to her and took on the appearance of translucent full-plate armor. It didn’t restrict her movement but improved her defenses, even if Bertilak’s chosen weapon was designed to smash through metal armor. 

Bertilak’s axe answered the bear’s claw with a chop into its roaring face, silencing it as the heavy blade struck with resounding force and cleaved the skull in a crack that reached the stands. The beast gave one last moan of pain before the summoned creature faded in a twinkling of smokey ash. Its heart fell to the dirt. Its summoner, Saehild, gave a cry of protest as Bertilak’s boot crushed the heart beneath his heel and turned his attention to Agatha once more. 

Raoul cast a spell and disappeared from sight, making himself invisible from all directions. A handy trick, no doubt, though a troubling one. Luther wondered if there was a tell or some way to see where he’d been, but the man was adept at moving in stealth amid battle, where it was easy to lose track of someone even if they weren’t invisible. 

Though punctured by Demira’s spear, Avery's vines twisted and danced through the air, striking at anyone who came close. She shifted behind them, throwing out more seeds as she went and speaking spells of growth as she poured her magic into the ground like water, more vines sprouting to form a slashing wall across the area. 

Demira moved forward with her spear and shield, circling to Bertilak’s left as she tried to pass the front line and close the distance with Feseral. 

Fess began to sing as she approached. His voice became a haunting bass melody that seemed to invigorate his spouses. 

Marne’s strikes sped up against Primrose’s staff. The woman twirled and danced around Primrose who remained defensive around the blows. Primrose gave a cry of pain as Marne’s blade slashed her forearm, but she held steady, keeping up the fight. 

Primrose answered Marne’s strikes or did her best to, but Marne moved too swiftly for her to land a blow with either her staff or her feet. At least, until Primrose stomped onto Marne’s shadow on the battlefield and uttered a spell, freezing Marne in place. The enchantress’ eyes widened as the butt of Primrose’s staff struck her between the eyes, knocking her backward and breaking the immobilization spell. 

“Shadow magic.” Luther said, half in surprise and half in joy. “I didn’t know your mother had shadow magic.” 

“Yes.” Rhosyn answered him, her mind speaking directly to his mind through her magic. “I hope it is enough.” 

Saehild remained where she was in the formation but threw a piece of bone onto the battlefield between her and Demira. She worked her magic over it, and the bone shifted, drawing other bones to it from the dirt and forming the flesh of what became a small but ferocious mountain lion. Its mewling roar hissed through the air as it cackled and launched at Demira, driving her to the ground and raking her shield and armor with its sharp claws. 

Rhosyn’s grip tightened on Luther’s forearm. It was too soon to tell if the wounds were fatal or if Demira might yet break free. Luther turned to examine Eira, but her eyes were still clouded over, even as tears fell from the corners of her eyes. 

Lisabet continued informing Branan of everything that happened, keeping him up to date as he worked on his magic on the air around them and the sky above. The clouds had gathered to block out the stars, swelling as if drawing in breath to release the storm. It took time to change the weather from what the gods above ordained to what one mage willed. Yet he was doing it. Branan had more power than Luther expected. 

Lucas cheered them on from his seat, but Emily remained silent. She watched the battle in horror and dread more than excitement. 

The servants made up for her silence with cheers and cries, no matter who was winning or losing. Luther thought it was in poor taste, but he’d seen fights like this before. He knew how rowdy and bloodthirsty even the most peaceful farmers could become when given a sport like this to cheer. 

For his part, he watched and waited, ever hopeful. Distracted enough by the fight, he didn’t notice Criella watching him as the battle continued. 

Agatha formed a sword next, but rather than wield it, it floated in the air beside her, comprised of the same translucent magical energy as her armor. She thrust it forward at Bertilak with a gesture of her hand, and he knocked it aside with a carefully timed swing of his axe. 

He pushed forward, closing the distance between them in several steps and swinging his axe at her. She stepped back just in time to avoid the axe’s strike at her shoulder, though it left a scratch across her magical breastplate. 

Three small blades flew through the air from directly beside Agatha. A shimmer in the air marked them as coming from the invisible Raoul. The first missed its mark entirely. The second deflected off the rounded corner of Bertilak’s pauldron. The third, however, found its mark just in the gap between his greaves, sinking into the inside of his extended leg by the top of the thigh. 

Luther winced at the painful placement, but Bertilak didn’t care. He plucked the knife from his flesh and threw it back toward the invisible Raoul. It struck nothing but sank into the ground, having flown straight without the spin Raoul placed on it. 

“Oh, no.” Luther said. “He’ll bleed out!” 

Avery’s vines grew and lashed forward, striking like whips as she directed them to search out Raoul’s position, but either he was slippery enough, or they did not strike far enough and missed him. She stood behind them, though, and threw more seeds on the ground, encircling herself in a wall of growing green. 

Demira’s struggle with the mountain lion proved dire. Its claws raked her, and she screamed at the pain. She dropped her spear, abandoning it in the dirt as she clutched at her waist with her right hand to draw her knife. She held death at bay with her shield, keeping the cat’s jaws from closing around her face. She struggled and kicked, which only seemed to piss it off more.

With a cry of pain, Demira cast a spell and burst into flames. Her wooden shield and oiled leather armor ignited, and the cat gave such a wild cry of surprise it fell back off of her, crouching and eyeing her warily as she tried to rise to her feet, managing to come to her knees and keeping the flaming shield between herself and the beast. 

The others nearby gave a surprised cry, and Luther nearly rose to his feet to shout encouragement when he noticed how difficult it seemed for Demira to stay kneeling. The cat’s claws had pierced her armor, but he prayed she would rally. Gods above, let her rally. 

Feseral’s song continued, and Marne shook off the blow Primrose gave her. The healing spell prevented even a mark from showing on her forehead. She dropped one of her blades and gestured with her hand, casting a spell that struck Primrose like a blow. She dropped her staff, and Marne stood calmly with Primrose’s help. 

“Oh no.” Luther commented, watching the enchantress charm her enemy. “Come on, Primrose. Fight it!” 

Marne said something that might have been thank you, just before she sank her other short sword into Primrose’s chest. 

“NO!” Rhosyn yelled, tears flying from her face as she stood and leaned against the railing. “MOTHER!” 

Her cries distracted the battlefield momentarily, even as Luther held her back from running from the stands to the field herself. They couldn’t interfere, even to say goodbye. 

Primrose fell, her body limp with Marne’s sword still lodged through her ribs and heart. There was no one to say goodbye to anymore. The moment felt like it should have been slower, but the battle raged on, and there was no time. 

Saehild cast some spell upon the mountain lion, and it grew in size. Not much, but enough to bring its shoulders to waist height. The beast’s roar sounded deeper now, and it stalked Demira with a flicking tail, patiently waiting for the flames to dim. The creature’s circular path caused Demira to turn to keep her shield between them, and doing so left her open. Lisabet suddenly charged forward toward her flank. 

Hearing the battle cry and the shouts of “No!” from her spouses, Demira didn’t even look behind her. Wings of flame sprouted from her back and flapped into existence like a furnace. The beautiful phoenix-styled wings grew to twenty feet each in length from her back, each feather a jet of flame. 

Luther turned away as Demira’s wings of flame closed with a charging Lisabet caught between them. They stopped her forward momentum almost immediately, and worse, they burned her flesh as if she’d thrown herself on a pyre. Her clothes caught fire, and her scream turned to a sickening gurgle before she fell back to the ground, her upper half ruined while the flames on her clothing licked toward her lower half. 

Death feasted on this battlefield, and the pyres would burn bright tonight, but Lisabet was already halfway to heaven. 

Branan’s shout of dismay disrupted his spell, but the thunder clouds above rumbled with him, and his staff glowed brightly as he stepped forward. The storm was here, and the winds grew dangerous at his command. He shouted a spell and thrust his staff forward. Blinding light filled the world, and Luther had to close his eyes against it as a sword of lighting dropped from the sky. 

When he opened his eyes, the clap of thunder brushed against him, rustling his hair as it swept over the stands, having struck so close. Demira was on her back, her flames still present, and a black scorch mark beside her. She’d dropped and rolled to avoid the lightning strike, but she was severely wounded, and Luther didn’t know if she’d manage such a feat a second time. 

Agatha surged forward with a cry, screaming her vengeance into a blow from the front that struck Bertilak in the gut as she punched him with her magical armor. He answered her strike with a grapple, attempting to lock her in place with his axe behind her, hugging her to him to crush her against his armor. She wrapped her arms around his middle and sank, holding him in place. Bertilak seemed to realize he’d fallen into her trap, but it was too late for him to escape. 

The spectral sword she’d conjured flew up from behind and swung its arc from behind at neck level, slicing through armor and bone as it severed Bertilak’s head from his neck. Cries of triumph went up from the Feothe clan. Cries of despair mingled with them from the stands. Bertilak’s body fell sideways as Agatha released it. His head rolled on the ground for a moment, still inside the helmet. 

The crowd and Agatha gasped as Bertilak’s arm fell, so the gauntlet clasped the head as if it reached for it. Those gasps went silent as Bertilak stood. The entire assembly seemed to freeze as the body brought the head back to its place, and ropey sinews of flesh reached between to embrace each other as it knitted back into place. 

“Gods below.” Luther cursed as he witnessed one of the rarest and most potent arcanums he’d ever seen. 

Bertilak laughed and answered Agatha’s blow with one of his own as she stood in stunned and wide-eyed silence. His axe avenged his decapitation, shattering Agatha’s magical armor as the might of the swing tore Agatha’s head from her shoulders and cut her hair behind her. The sword she’d conjured and the armor disappeared as her body fell lifeless to the ground, unable to perform Bertilak’s trick. 

The invisible Raoul rushed forward, striking at Bertilak in a frenzy of thrown knives that clattered against the armor and fell to the dirt below. Bertilak’s regenerative arcana must have already healed his leg wound, and Luther wondered how many wounds he could take before his magic failed. 

Raoul uttered a similar spell to one Luther had performed during his match with Helena, blinding Bertilak momentarily even as the veil of invisibility around Raoul fell. 

The vines Avery commanded whipped out at Raoul as soon as he became visible, lashing him across the arms and legs, attempting to grapple him even as they reached around, blocking everyone’s view of Bertilak. Raoul cried out in pain, but the vines didn’t seem to do him serious injury, even though they did manage to grapple his ankle. 

Demira struggled to her feet, the wings of flame fanning out behind her on either side, encircling her and keeping the mountain cat at bay as she struggled. Her flaming shield burned hot, and she tossed it to the ground as she groped for her spear.

Sweat dripped from her as freely as blood, and ultimately, she decided to abandon her weapons for her magic. She struggled to her feet and cast a jet of flame directly at Saehild, who fell back in surprise and avoided the worst of it. 

The mountain lion paced around Demira, eager to pounce but wary of the wings of flame that protruded from her back. They shifted and moved to encircle her whenever the cat tried to step closer, but she always had to keep one eye on it. 

Feseral’s song healed Raoul’s scratches from the vines, closing his wounds. It could do nothing for Lisabet or Agatha, but the healing magic kept his partners strong and invigorated in their fight. Luther wondered how much longer their magic would hold out. Both sides seemed to be using it freely now, and they were rapidly losing members. 

The Verdells were reduced to three, with Primrose still impaled in the dirt. Demira was not doing well either, on the defensive with dangerous pyromancy, but at a heavy cost. Luther could only guess how much energy she needed to keep the flames burning the way she was. He guessed her flames had closed her wounds, but she suffered heavy damage from the mountain lion's blows. With her and Avery maintaining their spells, they stood to run out of magic before the Feothe clan. 

The Feothe family had suffered heavy losses in this bout so far. Agatha, their shield maiden, was a heavy loss. Emory and Lisabet were also dead, reducing their number to five. Saehild and her summoned creatures seemed to be fighting the hardest of the remaining group, but Marne and Branan were far from harmless. 

Marne spun her next spell toward Demira across the arena, striding forward after she plucked her sword from Primrose’s chest. With Primrose’s blood still on it, she spoke her spell into existence, attempting to charm Demira. Demira lashed out at her with flame as she approached, but Marne was too far away for it to reach her, though it did interrupt her spell. 

Saehild struggled to her feet as Marne came beside her, and she raised her hands like claws. Her eyes glowed with magic as she worked another spell upon her summoned mountain lion. The lion’s eyes gleamed, and Saehlid’s shoulders shifted in time with the lion’s as though she were puppeteering the beast. She threw the beast against Demira’s flames, and the creature yowled in pain even as it landed on Demira after a perfect pounce. 

Its hind claws raked her side, puncturing her kidneys and opening her flesh as if it weren’t there. The flaming wings that moved to shield her weren’t solid, and though they burned the mountain lion in intense flames, they did nothing to prevent its attack. 

Demira fell, her flames sputtering out in the dust as the jungle cat’s fore-claw ripped her throat spilling her blood onto the arena in a jet. 

Seeing their vengeance on Demira, Branan turned his attention to Avery and Bertilak. He muttered another spell and a gust of wind swept the battlefield as the storm above churned. Flashes of lightning danced between the clouds, and a dagger of it stabbed down, burning the vines protecting Avery and Bertilak, severing Avery's hold on Raoul’s ankle.

The fight was now two to five, and things were not looking good for the Verdell family. Luther turned to see Eira’s eyes were clear again, and she wept with her head in her hands. He put his arm around her and Rhosyn. They, in turn, hugged him, holding him tightly as Helena and Jo scooted closer, all eyes but Eira’s on the battlefield.