57
“The Dawnguard will hunt down every one of you,” spat Pelyth. “Regardless of what happens here, you are doomed.” Xerxis shrugged. “So be it.”
The two fighters circled each other. The cerops reared onto its hind legs and came crashing to the ground, nostrils flared and horn lowered. The Iosan stallion’s eyes rolled, but Pelyth snarled and spurred it forward, forcing obedience. When the cerops swung its head sideways to smash the creature, the Iosan reacted with surprisingly agility, vaulting from his horse to grab the great horn and using it to swing onto the cerops’ back.
Xerxis was barely able to catch Pelyth’s blade on the haft of his flail. The Iosan’s momentum carried him through the strike and his shoulder hit Xerxis just below the breastplate, sending the two tumbling to the ground. Pelyth sprang to his feet with his sword held in a low guard. Xerxis rose slowly, feeling the pain of his unhealed wounds.
Sensing an opening, Pelyth leapt toward Xerxis’ right side, away from the flail, and brought his blade down in a sharp overhand slash. Unable to avoid the blow, Xerxis absorbed it on his thick armored pauldron. He felt the sharp sting of the blade’s edge as it bit through, but the wound was not deep. Needing room to swing the flail, Xerxis surged forward and slammed his shoulder into Pelyth, and the Iosan was thrown backward.
Xerxis whipped Lamentor around his head once to build momentum and then lashed out. Pelyth immediately brought his sword up in a high guard, but the heavy chain struck the blade and the flail’s weighted end wrapped around the sword to strike the Iosan in the chest with crushing force. With his opponent knocked off his feet, Xerxis strode forward, his wounds forgotten in the pleasure of an imminent kill. He whirled Lamentor around again and brought it crashing down as the Iosan struggled to rise. The blow shattered Pelyth’s helm and skull, splattering blood and brains in a wide arc.
Just like his army, the Iosan had seized an opening that wasn’t there.
Xerxis’ army had emerged victorious, though at a terrible price. Nearly half his warriors were killed, many during the strategic retreat that had eventually won them the day. On the other hand, he had lost few warbeasts, while nearly all the myrmidons they had faced were destroyed. There were no prisoners. After seeing how Xerxis had made use of his most recent captives, the Iosans had either fled or fought to the death.
He left the cleanup to his subordinates and retired to his tent. Venators had scoured the battlefield for exotic weaponry, and the most intact were brought to him. Several fine examples had been laid out before him. Both the lances and the short-bladed rifles of the Iosan knights were intriguing, each designed to be as deadly at range as in melee. It suggested a philosophy very different from
hoksune—tactically flexible but with little concern for a
warrior’s honor.
His nephew’s shadow fell across the floor, and he looked up from the weapons and nodded, allowing him entrance. “The extollers are busy, Uncle,” Loraak said. His midsection was bandaged and the tip of one ear had been severed by a glancing blow, but he was otherwise unscathed. “The sacral stones of our guardians contain a wealth of worthy companions for the exalted. Of those who survived, even the lowliest Venator will tell of the time he fought on the Hill of Scavengers against an army four times the size of his own. A great victory, if not the one we were sent to achieve.” He said the last as an afterthought, and immediately bowed his head in contrition when he realized it sounded like a criticism. Xerxis picked up a curved Iosan sword and fingered its edge thoughtfully. “You are correct. Supreme Archdomina Makeda sent us to besiege Aeryth Dawnguard, and that fortress still stands.”
“On that, I bear good news,” Loraak said. “A runner reached us with word Supreme Aptimus Zaal followed our course and brings his forces, including ranks of immortals. Perhaps we can yet complete our mission.”
Xerxis had no fondness for Zaal, but any soldiers and warbeasts he brought would be welcome. As for their mission, other possibilities were forming in his mind. “A wise commander knows the heart of his ruler, not only her words,” he said at length. “We will not besiege Aeryth Dawnguard.” Xerxis noted Loraak’s evident surprise and continued, “Our mission was to neutralize Iosans from the north and prevent them from interfering with the supreme archdomina. Tying up the garrison at this northern fortress seemed the way to do this. But now we have crushed the greatest of their strength in the open field. I hazard what remains is sufficient only to man their battlements and hold us at bay. We will not indulge them. We will force the Iosans to send more soldiers against us, while the Dawnguard cower behind their walls.”
He swept the Iosan weapon through the air and then brought the flat of the sword down on the makeshift stone table. The blade snapped at the pommel and fell to the ground. “We will destroy every town, kill every citizen, and raze every structure we find. Ios will be forced to assemble another army to stop us. The ancestors willing, we will crush them as well.”