Fulcrum of Light (Catalyst Book 2), C.J. Aaron [e reading malayalam books txt] 📗

speechless, eyes wide, eagerly clearing a path as the party moved onward toward the facility. Kaep whispered her thanks as a man with a bow slung over his shoulder tossed her a quiver bristling with arrows. A gathering of brave souls, armed with bows and crude swords followed hesitantly, several steps in their wake.

Their pace was rapid. Dav did his best to wrap the wounds on Ryl’s hand and side as they moved along the pathway toward the facility. The weeping cuts stung viciously as the Vigil tightened the bandages around his hand and torso. He’d lost a fair amount of blood, yet his determination to see his friends safe overpowered any discomfort he felt.

Ryl continuously scanned the surrounding areas with his mindsight. For a while there was nothing of note; no movement or sign of the black shapes came from any direction. He gasped in surprise when the first of the faint signs sprung to life in his vision. He stopped in his tracks, concentrating to confirm that what he’d seen wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

Not far in the distance he could see a gathering of objects, and though faint, each glowed with a dull golden-yellow light. Close to his side, the body of Elias neither glowed nor displayed as a smudge of black on his vision. In his place, only a disconcerting void remained.

“There are tributes in there,” Ryl gasped. “Not far now.”

The road ahead curved slightly to the south. Before them, the crumbling spires of the once prominent house stretched into the sky. The mighty castle, the proud seat of House Martrion now looked as if a strong wind would topple it from its peak. Green vines snaked up its exterior as the overgrown grounds surrounding the remains of its magnificent structure had been reclaimed by nature over the cycles.

The distinct ring of steel on steel and the muted shouts of men floated to his ears in the distance.

The others heard the din of battle as he did. Together, they surged forward into a sprint, the phrenics easily outpacing the Vigil and the townsmen behind them.

As they rounded the lazy corner through the trees, the sprawling complex came into view. The peak of a long building stretched into the sky, though the remainder of its body was blocked from view by a wall stretching nearly ten paces in the air. The warehouse complex stood against the backdrop of the hill where the crumbling remains of the seat of House Martrion rested.

A battle was in full swing along the top of the wall. A body lay crumpled in a heap on the ground, and another lay draped over the edge of the wall, a red stain spreading downward underneath its limp form.

Andr had made his presence felt among the guard of the facility, yet he was besieged on two sides. He parried and attacked, dodged and defended as the guard sought to strike him down before he reached what Aldren had described as the gate house. The merchant was nowhere in sight.

They were still nearly thirty meters from the wall. Ryl watched in horror as a glancing blow struck the mercenary’s leg. He immediately fell to a knee as the attackers swarmed over him. He was pummeled with fists and boots while he was violently disarmed and hauled to his feet. The guard behind him held his blade close across his neck.

“Stop there,” the guard bellowed from above.

Arrows sprouted from several guards along the top of the walled enclosure. Ryl scanned the area; there was no sign of any Lei Guard present.

“Take another step and your friend’s head will be all that leaves this wall,” the guard hissed. “The Lei Guard will return soon, and there’ll be reckoning, mark my words.”

Ryl turned his head, nodding to Ramm. The phrenic gently lay the still figure of Elias on the ground at his feet. The gasp from the guards on the wall was audible.

Ryl took a step forward. The familiar heat surged through his veins as the anger in his body swelled.

“The Lei Guard is dead,” Ryl’s voice boomed over the gate. “We have no desire for your lives, but rest assured, if he is harmed further, not one of you will survive this day.”

He reached his left hand behind his back, whipping a single weapon from its holster. The brilliant green blade burst into flame emphasizing his point. The guards on the wall flinched. Their uncertain eyes darted between their peers.

“Kaep,” Ryl asked quietly without removing his eyes from the wall. “Think you can make the shot?”

He heard the creak of her bow as she drew it back to its peak.

“Aye, Ryl. I won’t miss,” was all she whispered as the arrow screamed through the air.

The guard holding Andr hadn’t moved a muscle before the arrow buried itself into his skull. He toppled backward, his blade falling from his hand, as he pulled Andr down with him.

The archers along the wall released their arrows in response, the projectiles trained upon the waiting phrenics. The anger boiled over in Ryl’s veins. The time for his compassion had expired; there would need to be another example made. Time froze bringing a virtual halt to the arrows approach as he darted forward. With a single broad sweep of his right arm, he launched an arc of wind into the incoming bolts. Several snapped in half as the blade of wind sheared through them, fracturing them into pieces. The others were thrown wildly off course, well away from their intended targets.

“Ramm,” Ryl shouted. “The gate.”

The massive phrenic charged forward with a speed that defied normal movement. Ryl loped a step behind as Ramm’s hulking frame approached the reinforced wooden gate, his mighty warhammer swinging backward in his grasp.

With a roar of fury, the phrenic leaped into the air, bringing the fury of his massive hammer down onto the helpless gate. The metal head of the weapon connected with the wood in the middle of its height, close to the edge where