The Defiance of Vim (Catalyst Book 4), C.J. Aaron [best novel books to read .TXT] 📗

Ryl thought aloud. “When they attacked us in the forest, they only sprang their trap when we’d extended beyond where we could escape. Even with numbers on their side, they toy with their prey, wearing it down. They feed off the fear, the hopelessness of their assault. They want us to see the overwhelming odds.”

Ryl looked down the line of soldiers standing ready atop the wall. His eyes travelled behind them, to the civilians who’d sought safety behind the mighty stone wall.

“Fay, they need to move,” Ryl cursed. “Any with the strength to walk needs to move now. Send them north. The main road leads to one destination, the last outpost in The Stocks.”

“That’s fifty miles from here,” Fay gasped.

“Aye, it will not be an easy task,” Ryl agreed. “There is an army between here and there to help. If these walls are breached, they will die. Any head start they can get may mean the difference between life and death.”

Fay contemplated the message for a moment. His pose was one of resilience, yet Ryl witnessed the cracks in his foundation. The steadfast determination faltered, giving way to acceptance and bitter defeat. He looked at the brightening skyline to the east.

“Will a few hours matter?” he groaned.

Ryl shrugged his shoulders in response.

“We’ll see,” was all he could muster for a reply.

Fay’s hesitance waned as his conviction rekindled anew. The young lord, spurred to action, moved eagerly among his troops, issuing the orders to clear the city of all those who couldn’t or refused to bear arms. They were given the chance to stand and defend themselves, to defend their loved ones who remained by their side or flee further into The Stocks. Some were eager to stay.

Most fled willingly.

Ryl remained watch atop the palisade. The retreating darkness revealed more details of the demons who stood watch at the edge of the courtyard. Jagged claws were now distinguishable from the shadowed mass that waited with a disturbing patience. Lord Eligar’s troops, to their credit, remained firm in their watch.

“Captain,” Ryl beckoned, for he knew the man had not strayed far once Fay had taken his leave. The veteran was at his side in moments.

“Have your men rotate rest now,” he ordered. The captain immediately furrowed his brows in confusion. “Do not let them wander from their posts. I expect the Horde to hold firm. I fear we have a long standoff before us.”

The captain, though hesitant, followed orders. Along the line, soldiers slumped down where they stood, finding the first piece of open wall to rest their backs.

Ryl followed suit. He cast a cautious glance at the Horde before crossing the narrow walkway, leaning his back against the stone railing. He slid down the cold, rough stone wall, pulling his knees up toward his chest. He focused, scanning the area again.

The approach of the Horde remained stagnant. They waited. Their cue would likely be noticeable.

Ryl knew his mindsight would alert him. His body would sound the alarm far before Lord Eligar’s sentries would need the assistance. The gates would hold.

For the first time, he realized how tired he truly was. It had been just shy of two days, and he’d slept but a few moments. Even with the worry of momentary attack, he was asleep the moment he closed his eyes.

A gentle tap on his shoulder stirred Ryl from his slumber. Fay kneeled in front of him. Splotches of color had begun returning to his face. His cheeks were rosy, while the rest of his complexion remained alarmingly pale.

“You’ll want to see this,” he muttered, stifling a large yawn. “At least they granted us a moment of peace.”

Ryl was on his feet in an instant, his mindsight firing unbeckoned. The black mass remained at a standstill. The solitary golden glow far behind him signaled that Aelin likely still slumbered. He turned quickly, fast enough to assist Fay back to his feet.

The deep violet of the night sky had been replaced by the light pink of the early morning. He shot a quick glance to the east. The entire sun had cleared the horizon if only by moments. The dilapidated village of Cadsae was again eerily deserted. The sun, low in the sky, cast long, heavy shadows from the east, blanketing much of the usable area in darkness. It was as if night in the village refused to give way to the coming dawn. Lord Eligar’s troops were not alone. Judging by the lingering cloud of dust to the north, many had chosen to flee as instructed. The stragglers milled around the earthen square. Ryl turned his vision to the south. Toward Cadsae Proper. The mass of Horde that greeted him was as impressive as it was terrifying.

The effect of waiting for daylight was profound. The panic took on various forms atop and behind the palisade.

The absence of visual cues would have likely given way to the torment of imagination. Few had seen the Horde close enough to truly grasp the grotesque viciousness of their beings. What diabolical creatures had their minds conjured?

None could have envisioned the horrors that now stood before them.

The sea of darkened shapes had blotted out the lighter grey hues of the city’s avenues at night. The demons now resolved with terrifying clarity. Uncoordinated row upon row of the lanky harriers pressed in close quarters. Early morning sunlight sparkled off the fetid moisture that coated the bared, razor-sharp teeth. Their daggerlike claws twitched in anticipation. The entirety of the mass seemed to seethe with excitement over the coming massacre. Their numbers seemed to swell from behind, though their approach stopped curiously at the opposite edge of the square.

Ryl stepped forward until his knees touched the stone wall before him. The sun rose from the east, illuminating a city half smoldering, half drenched in blood. Ryl looked down upon the streets of Cadsae Proper with complete and utter revulsion. The captain remained where he’d last seen him. He wondered if the man had moved through the fleeting