Page 193 of War Queen
But the Aleon army wasn’t the Kharavian army, and they wavered.
“Forward!” he ordered.
Waves of soldiers flung their shields up over them and ducked down. The horses panicked, throwing their riders. Cohen’s mount reared but settled under the boy’s hand. Soren’s destrier held steady. The Aleon army’s advance stopped. But they couldn’t stop. Soren needed to find the witch, then lead his legions back to help Phillip take Gregor. He glanced at Cohen, and the boy drove his mount forward alone. Cohen was right—forget the army—and Soren pressed his destrier forward after him.
They ripped through the horror-filled void, ignoring the winged serpents that turned to writhing, rotting carcasses of terror dropping from the sky.
Suddenly, the ground split open in front of them, and their horses came to a grinding halt. Cohen’s mount cut sideways, nearly throwing the boy to the ground, but he recovered. Total pandemonium surrounded them. Behind them, Aleon soldiers still swung their weapons at ghosts of the enemy; they still cowered at the monsters of the sky. It was like nothing he’d ever seen.
A low whistle sounded, and Soren threw his attention back to Cohen. The boy pointed his blade to the south, and Soren focused his eyes through the chaos to a small group of soldiers. Forty to fifty Raelean men stood defensively in a circle, and at their center Soren caught glimpses of a blonde-haired woman.
He glanced back at Cohen.
The witch,the boy said.
He saw her. Her eyes were closed, and her hands lifted as she breathed silent words into the air. It was a different woman from the one that had been with the Blood King before.Curse the North gods. How many witches did he have?It didn’t matter. There would be one less. He looked back at Cohen, and the boy clutched his sword and gave him a ready nod.
Soren hated to rob him of a good charge, especially one that would give him a score of more kills, but it wasn’t necessary. He held out his hand for Cohen to throw him his spear, and he did.
Soren circled his destrier. The witch was far, but he could hit farther. He coiled back, his eyes locking on his target, his body aligning to his intent. He ignored the turmoil around him and drowned out the sound of battle. Then he hurled the spear at the circle’s center.
His aim was true. He knew it the moment the spear left his hand.
The witch’s eyes flew open as she stopped abruptly, the spear protruding from her chest. She staggered backward. Her eyes met Soren’s in surprise, and she pointed at him, but she couldn’t speak before she collapsed to the ground.
The vast Raelean army evaporated into nothing, and the winged serpents disappeared from the sky. The soldiers that had surrounded the witch pulled the spear from her body and grabbed her from the ground. Then they leapt onto horses and retreated toward Japheth.
Soren’s legions looked around, confused by the sudden absence of an enemy, but battle still rang in the air. Japheth remained—now alone against Phillip’s hundred thousand men.
Soren turned his attention on them.
He pulled up his large battle-axe and circled his destrier back to his legions. Then, with a haunting call to battle, he led the charge to join Phillip against Gregor.
The second clash came like thunder; this time weapons met flesh and bone. Now attacked by both the north and west sides, the Japheth army fell back in surprise. Bellows rippled through them of Rael’s disappearance. And realizing their situation, they started to flee.
Soren smiled. That was the problem with mercenary armies—they were the first to desert. He looked across the Aleon ranks and spotted Phillip in the distance—his Aleon-blue forces pushing back Japheth’s sea of green. Soren could only watch him.
Phillip led his own men, deep in the front lines of battle. He wielded his sword like it was a part of his own body. He was fluid. Graceful. Beautiful. His armor gleamed under the sun as he moved. Soren usually hated armor, generally considering it protection for cowards. But Phillip didn’t need protecting. And there was nothing about him Soren hated. Even his armor.
A death cry rang to his right, and he jerked as a sword came for his head. But Cohen’s blade caught the man, dropping him to the ground.
Soren cursed. That had been close. Maybeheshould start wearing armor. This distraction of an Aleon king was going to get him killed.
Cohen’s eyes locked with his.Pay attention, the boy told him.
Soren snorted at Cohen’s reprimand but snapped his attention back to the battle. They needed to find Gregor.
“Hold! Hold, you cowards!” a man’s voice screamed from a distance. “Cyrus! You fucking traitor! Fucking coward!”
Soren chuckled. He thought it would’ve been harder. His eyes followed the screams of desperation to the rear of the dispersing Japheth army, where Gregor sat atop his horse.The back of the army. Who was the coward now?
Soren scanned the horizon and found Phillip’s legions pressing in from the east, toward Gregor. He needed to bring around the west side and surround the Japheth king and trap him.
He drove his destrier back to realign his legions. “With me!” he bellowed to them. And they followed.
The remaining forces of Japheth fought with panic, and Soren cleaved a trail of blood to the king as he thundered through, mercilessly dropping men clad in green before they could scream. The Aleon army swarmed them. All one hundred thousand.
And then there was no Japheth army.
