Margaret Bonham - Lachlei

“What if Areyn tries to outflank us?” Lachlei asked.

Ni’yah grinned. “They’ll have a nasty surprise.” With that, he vanished.

Ni’yah stood on a pass within the Neversummer Mountains. Not far from the ice dragon caves lay the great glaciers that moved slowly towards the sea. The jumbled seracs stood like giant towers, but Ni’yah knew they were constantly shifting. The seracs slowly tumbled down the frozen mountains towards the ocean, moving just a few feet per day. They stood iridescent blue and green, like oddly colored sentinels, guardians to a world beyond.

For indeed, they were. Before Ni’yah stood a great gate; two upright posts and a bar that lay across the top. It was covered with frost and ice from thousands of years of cold and blowing snow, so much so that it appeared to be hewn from the ice, itself. But Ni’yah knew what lay beneath was adamantine, riddled with Runes. A gateway into Areyn’s worlds.

The wolf-god stood at the gateway and focused on it. The power within the gateway flashed, and a wall of ice-blue flame filled its portal. From one of the seracs, a creature rose from the ice. A fifty-foot long crystal dragon with translucent blue and green scales now stood at the gateway. Ni’yah grinned at his handiwork. “They’ll be no returning from the dead from this gateway, Areyn,” he said.

The stars had begun to move again in their journey across the sky. It would be only a few hours before Areyn’s troops attacked. Lachlei rode her stallion where the noncombatants were making final preparations for a retreat. Carts and wagons, pulled by oxen, old horses, mules, and burros lumbered slowly westward through the pass in the ridge.

“Wynne! Wynne!” Lachlei called as she rode beside each wagon. Each driver shook his heads as she passed, calling. A tightness filled her throat as she searched for the wagon or cart that carried her son, Haellsil. Wagon upon wagon clattered by, each with no sign of her son or Wynne. Could they have gotten lost in the fighting? Could Areyn have killed her son? The fear turned to panic, and she rode frantically beside each wagon calling Wynne’s name.

“My lady!” came a voice.

Lachlei reined her warhorse abruptly. She turned to see a golden haired Eleion with gold eyes astride a white charger. His cloak flowed behind him, glowing brilliantly, and his armor was fiery gold. Even from this distance, Lachlei could feel heat radiate from him. She stared at the man speechlessly.

“My lady,” he said again as he rode towards her. “Your son, Haellsil, and his caretaker are safe. They’re in one of the first wagons making their way over the pass. I can get them if you’d like.”

Lachlei found that she had caught her breath while gazing at the god—for god, he had to be. “No, that’s all right,” she said when she found her voice. “I didn’t know Rhyn would take care of this.”

The god smiled; the warmth seemed to wash over her. “I’m afraid this is Ni’yah’s doing. He has called in some favors at the last minute, it appears.” He shrugged.

“Thank you,” she whispered and turned her horse around to ride back down. A massive wolf appeared beside her. and her warhorse shied as she reined the beast.

“Can you give me prior warning before you do that?” she snapped.

The wolf-god shrugged. “Rhyn’athel sent me to find you,” he said. “Areyn’s army is nearly at the bluffs.”

“Rhyn didn’t tell me he would have a god watching over the noncombatants,” she said.

“You didn’t ask,” Ni’yah remarked. “But you have nothing to worry about—Sowelu will care for them.”

Lachlei glanced behind at the brilliant rider. “Sowelu? The sun god?” she asked.

“He doesn’t have much to do at night.” The wolf wagged his head in laughter. It looked almost comical, if he had not been a god. “Sowelu can’t stand up to Areyn Sehduk directly, but he’s powerful enough to protect them until either I or Rhyn’athel arrive.”

Lachlei stared at the wolf-god. “What does a god do to make another god indebted to him?”

Ni’yah grinned evilly, and a mischievous gleam crept into the god’s yellow eyes. “Sowelu told you about that, did he?”

Lachlei chuckled at the wolf-god’s expression. “I don’t want to know what you’ll hold Rhyn’athel to for this,” she said. “Or what the Lochvaur will owe you.”

Ni’yah teeth gleamed. “You’re my great-granddaughter and half Laddel , even if you carry the Lochvaur traits. Both you and the Lochvaur have already given me what I want,” he said.

“And that is?” Ni’yah grinned and vanished as they approached Rhyn’athel, astride his charger giving last minute orders to Cahal. Lachlei stared at the place where Ni’yah vanished before riding beside the warrior god.

Rhyn’athel turned to her. “The archers are ready with fifty arrows a piece,” he said. “Five thousand longbow men. They may not hit their mark every time, but they should decimate Areyn’s ranks enough…” He paused. “What’s wrong?”

“Ni’yah…” she began.

Rhyn’athel laughed. “So, he’s been talking about debts, has he?”

“He says the Lochvaur and I have already paid his debt—how?”

“That rogue,” he chuckled. “I guess in a way, you have.”

“How?”

“Gods gain power in many ways, Lachlei,” Rhyn’athel said. “Ni’yah has ensured the Laddel ’s survival and their placement within the kindreds.”

“Through me?”

“Through you—and through your sons.”

She hesitated. “My sons?”

“My sons,” he said, smiling.

“How would you…” she began and then fell silent. Of course, he would know—he was a god, she reminded herself. Her mind was thrown into a whirl of confusion and mixed emotions. Was she pregnant? She would not know for a month, but she did not doubt his word. Did he only intend to be with her through the battle or long enough to ensure her carrying his sons to term? What did this mean?

It means that I love you very much , he said in response to her unspoken questions. He held her gaze. I will never leave you, beloved .

Areyn Sehduk reined his demon steed and gazed at the bluffs. No longer did the guise matter—the Silren and Eltar were his to command now. Their lives, their souls, their very life force was his, and he relished them. They shrank from him in terror as he rode among them, but they were unable to resist his power. Even Silvain, the son of the goddess Elisila, could do nothing to resist him.

Imdyr rode beside him, astride her own demon mount. Her dark eyes were languid as her powers touched the Wyrd and beyond. Areyn considered her thoughtfully. She was looking less gaunt and more Eleion now. She had been eating, perhaps to keep her strength up because the magic she used required so much energy. And yet, perhaps there was something more…

Fialan rode beside him as well. The Lochvaur’s baleful gaze was constantly on Areyn now. He did nothing to disguise his hatred and contempt for the death god. Forced to serve Areyn, the Lochvaur king despised him. If the former Lochvaur champion could, he would try to destroy the death god.

Areyn smiled at the man’s foolishness.

“Rhyn’athel is here,” Imdyr said aloud, snapping Areyn from his thoughts. The Eltar sorceress’s eyes were still unfocused. “He has brought the wolf-god with him.”

“Rhyn’athel,” Areyn Sehduk repeated, and felt the chill of fear creep into him. His old adversary was powerful. And yet, Rhyn’athel had not fought him until now—now that Areyn was powerful and filled with the blood and life force of so many who had died. He turned to see Lochvaur grinning. Areyn slammed his mace into the Lochvaur, sending him sprawling from his horse. “It is little matter, worm,” he growled. “Rhyn’athel can’t save you—you are mine.”