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Back The Hidden Relic Save as PDF
Chapters (75)
  1. Map
  2. Prologue
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. 63
  66. 64
  67. 65
  68. 66
  69. 67
  70. 68
  71. 69
  72. 70
  73. 71
  74. 72
  75. Epilogue

The arrow buried itself deep into the Lord's Bridge, only half its length still visible. Rorelan looked down at his foot. The arrow's point had sliced a small nick from his boot, and its shaft was touching his foot.

"Lord of the Sky, you're mad," Rorelan said.

Another arrow landed next to his other foot, and the High Lord cried out.

Miro was now growing more confident. He knew he should end this now; the demonstration was almost complete.

"Enchanted swords have been known to knock prismatic orbs out of the air, High Lord," Miro said. "Perhaps a sword can also take out an arrow?"

Rorelan looked up at him, grim-faced, the pulsing sword gripped tightly in his hands.

In one smooth motion Miro fitted another arrow and pulled on the string. He spoke the activation sequence that would allow him to call forth his target. "Reilan-sula. Tuva-uran-surnam."

The arrow smashed into the cross guard of Rorelan's sword, hitting it with all the strength Miro could give it, having drawn the string as far as he possibly could.

Rorelan yelped and dropped his sword, falling backwards onto his hands. He looked up to see Miro advancing towards him, another arrow fitted to the bow, his arms tensed and muscles rippling.

"You're dead, High Lord," Miro said.

Miro lowered the bow and allowed the string to slacken, replacing the arrow in the quiver at his back. He reached out his hand and grinned.

Rorelan waited a moment, his chest rising and falling.

Finally, the High Lord gripped Miro's hand, and Miro pulled his friend up.

"That's an interesting way to prove a point," Rorelan said, his face still red. "You're insane, Lord Marshal, do you know that?"

"At least I'm on the right side. The enemy will fear me, High Lord; you have my word on that."

"What if I'd been killed?"

Miro shrugged. "Then I'd be tried for treason, and in a month Altura would fall. Without the rail-bows, Altura will fall inside a month anyway."

"Lord Marshal, never, ever, do anything like that again."

"Let's get a drink." Miro grinned. "You look like you could use one."

30

30

MIRO looked down at the tree-lined field, drinking in the sight. Only here, from the height of his last remaining dirigible, could his vision encompass them all: eight hundred archers armed with the new rail-bows; four bladesingers, not including Miro; ten thousand Alturan infantry; four thousand Halrana pikemen; a contingent of Dunfolk, perhaps a thousand strong; and a single Halrana colossus, the animator sitting patiently inside the controller cage atop the construct's monstrous head.

Miro had gambled all of their manpower, the last of their essence, and the hopes of two nations on what would happen this day. Three nations, he corrected himself, for the Dunfolk had proven themselves to be staunch allies in Altura's hour of need.