Sorcerer’s Daughter excerpt 2
Wicked
Witches, Devils & Dragons
©
Paul DeThroe 2017
Fires were lit
atop the walls under kettles containing oil. When the attack came sentries
would tip the pot and whatever soldiers trapped underneath would be in for a
terrible death.
Realizing I was
getting too caught up watching the action unfold, I decided to do something to
help. I talked the king into allowing me to meet with Ragnar and his generals,
to see if terms of peace could be achieved. He reluctantly agreed and I climbed
to the top of the fortress, tied off a rope, threw it over the ledge and started
climbing down.
Fear crept over
me as soon as my feet touched the ground. Not fear for myself, per se, but fear
for all the lives that would be lost if I failed to persuade Ragnar to leave. I
could’ve already killed him on three different occasions but chose not to. But
I had no regrets, because I knew his time would soon come.
Not looking
back, I focused on finding Ragnar. He was easy to spot in his breathtaking
royal battle gear. He noticed me simultaneously, and goaded his war horse
towards me with two generals beside him and several sentries flanking them. It
was imposing to say the least, but if they attempted to take my life as an act
of intimidation then I would take Ragnar to Hell with me.
I took a deep
breath as they surrounded me. I stood our ground despite the crowding and
constant nudging from the warhorses. I’ll never forget the scene. The mist that
poured from the beasts and their masters’ noses was so thick from the cold that
their faces were barely distinguishable, even after they raised their helmet’s
shields.
Looking behind
the warlords, a line of men could be seen and heard, all gathered around in
groups, laughing at the sight of a peasant woman come to call out the man who
would be King of all the land. Behind them tents and fires stretched as far as
the eye could see.
The trees in
the distance cracked and whistled a terrifying tune. The hood I had over my
head did nothing to protect my face from the freezing dry wind, which stung me
with each brutal gust. While the king’s men glared at me with malice, the king
looked at me quizzically. My red face must’ve seemed familiar to him, but he
couldn’t put his finger on just who I was.
“What business
do you have here, King Ragnar?” I stared away from his presence, pretending to
be intimidated.
“King Oakthorn is
a coward that will die a merciless death. Why would send a mere woman-child to
speak to the king of an army that challenges him in plain sight?” Ragnar
grumbled causing his men to howl in laughter.
“King Oakthorn
wishes for peace and would like to know your terms?”
“Surrender or
die.”
“Harsh.”
“Harsh? Maybe,
for a girl. Go fetch a man, if there is one behind those walls.”
I removed my
hood. “You were sent here by the evil priest who gained his power from fake
black magic tricks on the corpse of a sorcerer you once called friend. Now the
priest is dead too. His prophecies were wrong. You shall perish as well if you
pursue war here.”
“How do you
know about the priest and the wizard?” the king ignored my threats to zone in
on how I could possibly know his darkest secrets.
“I am the
sorcerer’s daughter.”
“Elswyth? I’d
heard you ran away from the convent and were murdered by hunters.”
“Nay.”
“What would you
have me do?”
“Turn around
and go home.”
“I shall not! I’ve
come to claim my rightful place as High King of all the land. Nothing can stop
me from achieving my God-given destiny of unifying the land.”
“Murder from above, death from below,”
I chanted.
“What?”
“Darkness heed my call. A dreary filled doom upon Ragnar.”
“I will not
stand here and be cursed by a witch. Kill her!”
Before his men
could even draw their swords, I used my magic to become invisible and ran as
fast as I could towards the woods. Once I made it to the tree line, I felt
refreshed and powerful again. Now I’d take my best shot against Ragnar.
I laughed as
the puzzled warriors clamored around in circles looking for me, hurling curses
and generally looking like superstitious cowards. The groups of hecklers at
their camp had fallen under a spell of silence. But there was no spell. They
were just scared because they saw a witch threaten their king and then
disappear into thin air. They also saw that the king and his top men had no
answer for that threat.
I enjoyed my
moment in the sun more than I’d expected. But I also knew that I’d just angered
a renowned warrior with a reputation for cruel retribution. He wouldn’t take his
embarrassment lightly and would surely take out his fury on the people inside
the fortress, if I didn’t act with impetus.
I walked briskly
to a darker, quieter part of the woods, so I could block out the background
noise of the clamoring army that was desperately trying to vent itself into
action. My goal was to absorb the energy emanating from the spirits of the forest.
When I found the perfect spot I wasted no time falling into a deep trance
breathed with one with all the creatures of the woods.
I spread out
the breadth of my supernatural vision to span all the way to the great ocean
and summonsed the great spirit of the wind to spread her wings and blow
excessively moist air towards me. The vapor laden winds followed my voice, and
hurled themselves at the cold air hovering over the plains upon which the army
camped.
The resulting
ice storm buried them. I came out of my trance and hiked back to the edge of
the woods to watch as Ragnar’s army huddled together around barely burning
fires, as all their tents had been flattened to the ground by the weight of ice
and the power of the gales.
Freezing
myself, I shivered at the mere thought of fire, but blocked it out of my mind
because I had to finish Ragnar off. There was no more moisture left in the
clouds, but I called upon the spirits of the wind to blow even stronger in
hopes that frostbite conditions would cripple his now fragile army. If they
didn’t leave now they would die were they stood.
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| Paul DeThroe http://pauldethroe.com |
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