“Ramael,” he said, “you don’t have to do this.”
He motioned to the Exiled Kindred soldiers behind him.
“These are good people,” he said, forsaking his pride and speaking from his heart. “They have law and order in their cities, they raise their children well, and they would be good citizens of the Empire, if only Mother would allow them back.”
There was another stir behind the Prince, this one rebellious; he knew that many of the Kindred, Leah and Tomaz included, would never go back to the Empire, no matter what the Empress offered. But he continued heedlessly—he knew that if the Prince of Oxen attacked, they stood no chance of survival.
“Please, brother, they have things they can teach even us! They can add to the Empire’s greatness, they can come back, they are good people! They would be good citizens. If you and I both go to Mother and tell Her that—”
“Mother didn’t even allow you to keep your name,” the Prince of Oxen said, enjoying every word. “Why do you think She would allow you in Her presence?”
The Prince fell silent, and, despite his resolve, he felt his breath catch in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak again, trying to find something to say, but Ramael cut him off by raising his helm to his head.
Fear spiked in the Prince; he took another step forward, holding out his hands. Several Kindred drew in sharp breaths: he was now within range of his brother’s axes if the Ox Lord chose to swing them.
“Please, brother,” he said. “You don’t need to do this.”
Ramael stared at him for a long time, face stony and blank. And then slowly his upper lip pulled back in contempt.
“I would say it shames me to see one of the Children beg,” he said quietly. “But then again, you are not one of us. You are a dog, who ran instead of facing his fate. You are amistake. The first that Mother has made, perhaps, but one she is striving to correct. And I am here to take back what has always belonged to the Empire. Like a good son. A true Child.”
At that moment a number of things happened simultaneously. Ramael pulled his helm back onto his head and unlimbered his axes; a shout rang out from behind the Prince and an enormous form pushed him out of the way; arrows released from taut bowstrings on both sides; and the Earth Daemon charged forward, lifting a heavy, spiked, iron club.
The Prince, knocked to the ground, looked up—and to his horror saw Tomaz, armor in tatters, greatsword in hand, engage Ramael.
Any other vision was obscured by a haze of arrows so thick that the Prince was forced to press his head to the ground and pray he wouldn’t be hit. When he looked up again, it was to see the tree trunk foot of the Daemon descendingtoward his head. He rolled out of the way just in time and made it back to his feet. The Daemon caught sight of him and swung its club; it took all of the Prince’s speed to dodge out of the way—away from Ramael and Tomaz. He ran back, but the Daemon stayed on him, swinging the mace and killing two Kindred soldiers who got in the way.
And then Leah was there, springing past the Prince and straight at the Daemon, her daggers drawn. She landed on the Daemon’s arm, and it tried to shake her loose, but with an amazing display of acrobatic dexterity she not only clung on to it but was able to climb up the arm and onto the creature’s back—directly behind the Bloodmage controlling it.
“No!” the Prince yelled at her, but it was too late; the dagger swung down toward the Bloodmage’s neck.
There was a flash of green light, and Leah was sent flying into a crowd of Kindred soldiers who were moving to engage the Imperial force.
The Bloodmage, still anchored to the earth, the source of its strength through the Daemon it rode, could not be touched.
Except with…
The Prince’s hand flew to his sword, and he swung it in a single wide arc that caused it to bite deeply into the Earth Daemon’s tree-trunk leg.
There was a howl of pain that made the ground shake; the creature tried to stamp him out with its other foot, but with the speed of numerous men joined to his own, the Prince spun away and struck again with the valerium blade, the white metal cutting through the magic flesh.
There was another scream of pain, and the creature brought down its iron mace with such strength that it left a crater in the ground. Rangers appeared, now led by Lorna, and engaged the Daemon with their long spears, prodding the creature and unbalancing it enough that it turned its attention to them, leaving the Prince alone.
He turned, searching frantically through the crowd for Tomaz and Ramael.
Everything was chaos, the Kindred and Imperial armies both fighting with a ferocity that brooked no mercy. But in the center of it all, standing head and shoulders above every other man and woman there, were two giants.
Tomaz and Ramael were fighting so ferociously that even in the heat of the battle between Exiles and Imperials, a circle had opened up around them that no one dared to enter. Tomaz’s greatsword and Ramael’s double-bladed axes were both flying so quickly and with such deadly power that sparks flew each time the blades hit, metal screeching against metal. The two were perfectly matched for battle, neither appearing able to gain any ground on the other. The Prince of Oxen’s face was set in a snarling rictus of fury, and Tomaz’s in a grimace somewhere between anger and pride.
Fear seized the Prince’s heart.
He began to push and kick and fight his way through the crowd, coming nearer and nearer to the two circling fighters. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Leah doing the same.
The Prince of Oxen began to win. It was slight at first, seemingly just a minor setback on Tomaz’s part. But then it became more distinct: the Prince of Oxen began to move faster, faster than should have been possible, and the expression on his face turned to one of amusement as Tomaz tried to counter attacks that seemed to come from every direction at once. Ramael’s blows, which had been earth-shakingly powerful to begin with, now took on a power that was simply inhuman, and Tomaz’s arms began to shake with the effort of fending them off. The axes forced Tomaz back, and then theashandelslipped on the slick footing of the blood-soaked stones and fell to one knee.
The axes descended, and just as in the Prince’s dream, Tomaz crumpled.
“NO!”
