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“You’re our captain. You lead us, and I’ll offer a hand if need be.”
An unwilling smile came to Relian’s lips. “Aye, my friend.”
However, Relian knew his own strength and felt it slipping away quickly. If he wanted to be of any use as a warrior, he needed to return to Eriannon soon and talk to Cal. More like grovel. He wanted—no, needed to complete the bond, preferably sooner than later. Otherwise, he didn’t trust his sanity to hold out. Forget about any previous worry of being content—he just didn’t want to go mad. Now if she’d only go along with it all.
His group rode out onto the plains. Before long, they ran into a small force of the darkindred. Relian didn’t even have time to think. His body remembered the motions of battle well enough that he didn’t get his head sliced off. But otherwise, the skirmish was a haze to him. He parried, he hacked, and he cut down darkindred as if they were nothing but tall stalks of wheat. Blood sprayed in the air and coated his face.
One moment he was riding through a river of darkindred and the next he was sailing through the air. The hard ground jarred all the bones in his body and stole the air from his lungs. Over him stood a darkindred, whose face was frozen somewhere between the bestial look of the newly converted and those who were slowly morphing back into their old mien. The creature, with a nasty smile, hefted up a sword. Relian saw his death coming toward him. Panic and resignation held him immobile. All remaining energy had deserted him, and he could only think of how he’d never have a chance to love Cal the way she should be. At that dark moment, he finally admitted he loved her, a human, his Cal.
As the sword descended toward him, there was a soft, meaty thump. The darkindred faltered, and the blade wavered. Then the sword and darkindred fell toward him, but Relian regained enough of his mind to roll out of the way.
He slowly sat up, watching the darkindred cautiously. Since he’d been taken by surprise once already, he didn’t want a repeat of that occurrence. The darkindred who’d nearly killed him remained dead, though. The feral face quickly reverted back to its nearly perfect elvin countenance. As so many times before, he couldn’t look away, no matter how it horrified him to see elvin features sullied so with death.
After the eternity of a few seconds had passed, the only person he found standing above him was his trusted second-in-command. The fight was over, with only his soldiers walking around on the field. Relian let out a long, ragged breath as his blood pounded in his veins. It was finally sinking in how close he’d come to dying.
A relieved smile shone on Enven’s face as he lowered his sword. “Captain, that was a near one!”
Relian pushed himself off the ground and winced at the soreness already taking hold. “It was. You have my thanks. Has the enemy been routed, or were all captured or killed?”
“A small portion attempted to escape, but I think we managed to take them all down. There were only a few left alive to capture, and we’re holding them securely.” He nodded toward three or four darkindred, who were bound, hand, foot, and mouth.
Relian stood and placed his hand on Enven’s shoulder in thanks. “Good. Let us see to our wounded and clear the field of the debris. Then we head home.”
Home. Such a little yet all-encompassing word. He’d only have a home if Cal were in it—willingly.
