Mageborn The Line of Illeniel by Michael Manning (top novels of all time TXT) 📗

the blows striking me I channeled energy down it. A line of searing light flashed forth and I began sweeping it around me, cutting through steel and bone. Men cried out in pain, dying as that terrible line cut through them. I moved it back and forth, raking its awful beam across those nearest and then using it to finish those against the walls.

Turning I sought to help Penny but it was too late, she was already finishing the last of those who had come at her. The sight of so many dead men around her shocked me. Our eyes met and I could see nothing there but adrenaline and the madness of battle. I looked away, for I didn’t like what I saw in them.

Before we could leave to see what occurred outside another group of fifteen men appeared beside us, on the circle that led to Arundel. I cursed myself as I realized they had used my own circles to surprise us. I raised my staff, but Penny was there ahead of me and I was forced to withhold my magic lest I hit her. Like a force of nature she went through them, steel flashing while men died and blood spilled onto the floor.

It wasn’t even fair to call it a fight; she slew them as a man might kill children. She might have slaughtered them all but for the one in the center, a man who bore a dark aura shining with power. As she neared him he put forth his hand and an invisible picked her up, tossing her across the barn to strike one of the main support beams. If not for her shield the blow might have killed her outright.

“Pyrren,” I said, and flames roared forth, streaming from my outstretched hand. The men around him died screaming but the fire didn’t touch him. He gave me a black smile and I knew I wasn’t the only one with a shield. His hand came up again and I found myself flying across the room to slam into the wooden walls of the barn. Stunned, I struggled to pick myself back up. I could taste the iron tang of blood in my mouth.

Penny charged him, she had recovered more quickly than should have been possible, but he waved his hand again, and sent her flying across the room once more. “You obviously don’t know how to fight men of power, young Illeniel,” he gloated in a voice that sounded as if it crossed a great gulf. I could see the madness of Mal’goroth in his eyes.

I had reached my feet and as he spoke I raised my staff. Without using words I channeled power down its length while I answered him, “And you obviously need to learn when to shut the fuck up and die.” The focused beam of light sliced through his shield and cut his body neatly in half. He was dead before he struck the floor, his face registering disbelief. I swept the beam down to destroy the circle that led to Arundel. I wouldn’t repeat that mistake again.

“Are you alright?” I asked Penny as she clambered to her feet once more.

“What do you think?” she snapped at me. I took that as a yes. I could still hear sounds of fighting beyond the walls so we paused for a second before opening the door to the outside. I took out a small pouch of stones I had been saving while Penny put her ear to the door. I could have told her there was no one near the other side, but I didn’t think she was feeling very receptive to advice at the moment. “You ready?” she asked me.

“Yep,” I said and with that she flung the door wide.

Chaos reigned in the castle yard. Men were fighting in tight knots everywhere I looked. There was no firm line, no defensive position. The enemy and the defenders of Washbrook were intermingled in a desperate struggle for survival. There was nothing poetic about it, men cut and slashed and in some places the blood was enough to form mud on the ground. Penny and I exchanged quick glances. “Go,” I told her. “I’ll be fine.” She was running before the words had left my mouth.

I didn’t stop to watch her; I didn’t want to see her working her bloody art anyway. I began picking targets, taking care to avoid hitting one of my own men. The nice thing about using the stones was that they were highly selective, once I had chosen a target they never missed. One by one my targets fell. Most of them wore helmets but it hardly mattered, the force was enough to knock them senseless. Once they fell, the vengeful swords of Washbrook made sure they didn’t rise again.

Within minutes the tide had turned. There were only fifty or so of the invaders within the yard, and they no longer had reinforcements arriving. The castle defenders on the other hand were appearing in ever greater numbers. They had been taken by surprise but the tables had been turned, once Cyhan and Dorian appeared their chances dwindled to nothing.

The enemy was down to ten now, drawn into a tight defensive circle. The look on their faces told me all I needed to know, the fight had gone out of them. “Throw down your swords and you may live yet!” I shouted at them. They paused but a moment before weapons began clattering on the hard earth.

“Take them to the stockade,” Cyhan added, addressing our men.

Dorian tapped him on the shoulder, an embarrassed expression on his face. “Actually we never built a stockade,” he said as Cyhan turned to him. “It was the lowest thing on the priority list and we never got to it,” he added.

The older warrior shrugged, “I guess we’ll have to kill them then.” His sword appeared in his hand as if it had always been there and his matter of fact expression was chilling.

“Wait!” I