Chpater 60 - Red For Blood, White For Snow

Chpater 60 - Red For Blood, White For Snow

Chapter 60

Red For Blood, White For Snow

Unlike the previous time, this go-around Sylas elected not to be a moron and came to travel directly with the Prince. In fact, the two shared a palanquin and were being carried forth proper. It was a strange sensation, part shame and part bliss, Sylas mused. Mostly bliss, however, whenever hed glance out into the cold, barren wilderness and the steep path up the mountain.

The plan of the attack was set in stone and, as even Sylas predicted beforehand, it was one of the surprise. Tenner and Derrek would storm the encampments flanks while the archers would draw attention to the front. The reason why the archers could be left alone without any vanguard was Ryne, actually, and her talismans. With Sylas help, she managed to write some ten earth-melting talismans that would be placed in front of the archers squadron. Upon activation, theyd create a moat of sorts some six feet wide and two feet deep. Though certainly not insurmountable, it would buy enough time for the flanks to descend upon the encampment.

Since most men were required for the assault, Sylas volunteered to be Valens temporary guard. As for how much faith Valen had him, the fact that for the first time since he met the young man he was carrying a sword spoke volumes of that faith.

We shall be stopping for the night, Your Highness, Tenner swung by the palanquin and informed Valen.

Very well, the Prince nodded, stretching. Sitting around all day long hardly tires a man. Im not even hungry.

Then dont eat? Sylas said. Nowhere in the rules of living does it say you need to eat three meals a day. For good chunks of my life, I comfortably lived off of one meal a day.

I am sorry for your tarnished childhood, Valen sighed, seeming genuinely remorseful. The Kingdom should take care of its people and yet

Sylas muted for a moment. The reason why he lived off of one meal wasnt exactly because he was unable to afford morehe simply sat around and slept all day long and one meal was more than enough. Furthermore, even if he was unable to afford it, it hardly had much to do with Valen considering they were from two completely different worlds. Once youre sitting on the throne, you can make that happen.

can I, though? Valen quizzed. How many of my ancestors swore theyd feed and clothe and shield their people? And, as far as I know, there were still the hungry and the cold and the bullied all through their reigns. In what way am I different?

You got me.

Looking down, Sylas saw makeshift wooden walls that were more reminiscent of fences and straw-roofed houses that looked like they leaked from top to bottom. The encampment itself was made on several layers, some parts laid on top of the protruding rocks, some in the pitfall-like dips, and some even on the sloped sides. All around, it was clear that it lacked any concise structure and planning and that it was built post-haste.

Very well, Valen nodded. Wait for the signal from the flanks and then rush within the shooting distance.

Yes, Your Highness! the man saluted as both Sylas and Valen walked forward. Theyd long since been walking on their own, as it was quite difficult to move a rigid, massive box through the forest.

God, I hope this works, Valen sighed, huffing into his palms, warming them up. These are good men Ive taken along. If they die

It will all work out, Sylas comforted by, well, lying. He had no idea how well it would go. Theyre in position. Sylas was, strangely enough, the first to spot the distant specks of flickering fire that they agreed on as the signals. Taking a deep breath, Valen looked toward the commanding archer and, with some hesitation, nodded.

rather than yelling anything out, the man signaled with his hands and ushered twenty-five or so men forward. The minimum shooting distance, as far as Sylas knew, was around two hundred yards. It was a lot of ground to cover, and they had to be fast. As such, they didnt stick to the formationeveryone rushing forward, waiting until the last possible moment to light up the arrows.

Valen and Sylas rushed behind them, on the far rear. Though Sylas urged the Prince to stay behind, the latter declined, espousing about the Princely duties and such.

Inevitably, they were spottedstill some four hundred yards from the encampment. Torches began to light up like the candles from within the encampment as Valen gritted his teeth. This meant that thered be far more casualties. Sylas quickly grabbed Valens arm and prevented the Prince from following the fading backs of the archers who have begun lighting up their arrows. Some who were more confident stopped around the three hundred yards mark and gave it a shot. Since they didnt need to be perfectly accurate, and only had to hit something that would burn, they hoped that even a missed hit would, well, hit.

While Valen fumed at being stopped, Sylas quickly put down the talismans Ryne prepared for them. Though the girl wanted to come along, Sylas rejected resolutely and had her teach him how to activate them. Though it took some effort, he was confident in being able to do so as long as he had about ten seconds of free time.

With the first fire arrows loosened into the nights sky, the sides of the encampment lit up as well as Tenner and Derrek ushered their forces forward, descending upon the camp. All was set for the battle that could last hours when Sylas heard something. A ripple.

WHO DARES ATTACK ME?!!! YOU!! YOU SACKED GRUNT! I SHALL HAVE YOUR HEAD!!! Dyns voice erupted, clearly aimed in the direction of the Prince. A shadow emerged from the encampment, warped and twisted and evil, blistering forward against all common laws of physics and reality. It was a shroud of darkness that covered over half a mile of distance within two breaths.

Driven not by experience or foresight, Sylas instinctively reached toward the scabbard and pulled out the blade. Again. There it was. The Ripple. As though guided by the invisible force from beyond, his arm pushed forward in a singular, decisive, picture-perfect motion. Immediately, he felt the sword stab into flesh as the phantom emerged from the shadowsa disfigured, scarred, shocked, disgruntled, angry, agonized, confused, bedeviled face of Dyn. Glancing down, he saw a thin sword shaking faintly, the silver blade piercing directly into his heart.

Red droplets of blood heaved out, one by one, and fell on top of the white canvas. Sylas stood frozen, watching the scene. It was eerie, how well red and white mixed, he mused. The blood bled into the snow and made a macabre painting of death. Red for blood, white for snow.