In The Beginning, Gail Daley [red white royal blue .TXT] 📗

was no heavier, but there was a slight delay in the beginning and ending of his swing on the one created by the Wards.

Andre swung the blade in a wide, sweeping arc. The powerful cutting edge of force swept across the top of the cliffs in imitation of his movement, the wind from it wiping the Shahen's men off Ironlyn's top and sides the way a housewife wiped up ants. They flew off the cliff, tumbling hundreds of feet to the ground below. He spared a brief note of pity for the men he had just killed, but they were soldiers; they knew, as he had when he went into battle, they might not survive.

The Magi Proctors had been confident the Ley Lines would provide them the power they needed to counter any moves made from the fortress. Sandman and his cohorts were sure of victory because neither Lewys nor Rebecca had ever fought a magical battle, and the Magi Proctors were trained in battle magic. They were not prepared for the kind of war waged by a trained Merc using the full power of the Leys.

Behind them, Shahen Rupert, could be seen shouting wildly and gesturing to his Proctors, but the screams of the falling men and roar of wind from Andre's swinging blade drowned his voice.

Desperately, the Shahen's Magi tried to counter Andre's steel with one of their own, swinging it up to meet his, when he turned his attack to the army in front of Ironlyn, but the Proctors were not swordsmen and their thrusts were largely ineffective. When the ground trembled under their feet, the Proctors staggered, buffeted by the wind created when the monstrous swords struck and bounced off each other. The Proctor's poor balance made it hard to counter Andre's powerful swings, and they barely managed it as each blow pushed their blade further back toward the shield they had erected to protect themselves.

Even inside Ironlyn's War Room, everyone could feel the earth shake, and hear a dim echo of the resounding thunder when blade met blade. Clinging to a table to keep from staggering herself, Rebecca was awed by her husband's seemingly easy rhythm as he swung his sword.

Unlike the Proctors, Andre had fought battles on the decks of a ship tossed about by storms; he simply widened his stance to help his balance, and allowed his body to sway with the quaking ground.

In the Shahen's camp, the jolting earth under their feet, the vibration of the sound waves and the gale force winds created by the titanic dueling blades slammed everyone and everything in their vicinity flying across the ground.

After several booming clashes, Andre slapped the Magi sword to the ground. The spell holding it together dissolved.

The Magi tried again, this time using weapons with which they were more familiar: a series of beams aimed at the oversize sword, combined with fireballs thrown high over the cliffs. To their shock and dismay, they discovered Andre's blade could counter their force beams as easily as it had their sword. He also batted several of the fireballs back at them, where they landed among an army already disorganized by falling men and wagons, causing havoc by setting men and animals afire.

Inside Ironlyn, Owen, Jors Swordsmith and his men had been ready, and quickly put out any fires started by the flaming balls lobbed over the cliffs.

Andre made another wide sweep with his blade, first to the left and to the right, this time aiming at the Magi themselves. Frantically, they tried to erect a stronger shield using the power from the Leys, but Rebecca's hindering spell worked well; the Ley's response to the Proctors was sluggish and weak.

The Magi's shield they had set up to protect themselves and the Shahen wasn't strong enough to withstand the full force of Andre's swinging sword. The Proctor's barrier fractured when Andre hit it the first time, and the backward swing split it wide open, slicing the attacking Magi in half. Their bodies were flung sideways, falling to the ground in a smoking pile.

Andre's attack would have killed the Shahen, who was standing several feet behind them if it hadn't been for his squire Jeffrey Simple, who knocked his Liege to the ground just as the Magi shield exploded. The wind from Andre's blade tumbled him and Shahen Rupert end over end for several feet, where they ended up against a broken wagon, bruised but alive.

For good measure, Andre swung his massive weapon across the remaining soldiers several more times, devastating the pitiful remains of the Shahen's once proud army. What the blade itself didn't cut to pieces, the mighty wind it created blew away. When he was satisfied no more attacks could be mounted, Andre sheathed the sword in his hand. The colossal blade he had used to such terrifying effect simply vanished.

On the cliffs overlooking the harbor, Logan could see the Shahen's fleet rounding the hooked tip of the bay. Apparently, they intended to land an invading force in the harbor. For several days, Logan had been nudging a hurricane building to the south, steadily pulling it toward the southern coast of Ironlyn. He had been reluctant to do much more than prod it toward Ironlyn's shores because he knew once started, there would be no stopping it. "Get everyone under cover," he told Lerrys, Jor's second in command. "I must bring the storm into the bay to take out those ships."

He tapped into the Ley Lines, feeling the power Andre was using with his sword. Careful not to leach any of the power Andre needed, Logan sent a surge toward the storm increasing its speed. Knowing it had already reached hurricane force, he doubled its speed.

Logan pulled hard on the lines, tugging the massive storm toward the ships. The horizon turned black as night, lit by monstrous flashes of lightning. Claps of thunder loud enough to shake the earth accompanied the lightning. The ocean waves rose to fantastic heights, twice as tall as a ship.