Chapter 34

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[Note: This was originally included in Curse of Blades: Book 3, but as of July 28th, 2021, I began combining the 3 Curse of Blades books into a single one.]

It wasn't until Coulta had cut down several soldiers that he changed his focus from blindly hacking at any enemy soldier he could reach physically and magically, to finding Varin and removing the bastard's head from his body.

Knowing Varin's dislike for doing his own killing, Coulta assumed he would be somewhere at the back of the field, likely watching the battle from a secure location. He might even be in the treeline itself. So Coulta urged Quiver on, deeper into the fray, hoping to push his way to the rear of the enemy ranks. He kept a careful eye out for Wildas, but knew that if the curse wasn't pulling Coulta to his side, Wildas was doing fine.

He quickly realized as he went, however, that dispatching Varin's soldiers wasn't as simple as he'd expected. They didn't seem to respond to pain like they should. Deep cuts didn't faze them. Magic only slowed them slightly. Heavy blows did nothing to knock them down. Not even being trampled by a horse kept them from fighting. The only way Coulta found to stop them was to sever their heads or burn them alive.

It was worse than any killing Coulta had done before. Blood and churned bodies mingled with the morning dew, leaving the ground a wretched mess. The air was filled with screams of challenge, screams of pain, and screams of fear. Above that was the sound of weapons clashing, armor clanging, and horses pounding through the ranks.

Only once did it occur to Coulta that he felt no remorse over the lives he was taking. It was a matter of survival. He needed to keep going so he could kill the man commanding this battle. If he could only kill Varin perhaps the battle would end in their favor. Perhaps this mysterious spell over the nearly immortal soldiers would be lifted and they would cease to fight so strongly. Perhaps they could end this.

So focused on moving forward, Coulta quickly lost sight of Wildas, but again left his protection to the curse.

It wasn't until he had nearly reached the trees and began looking more earnestly for Varin that he felt the undeniable pull of the curse.

Wildas was in danger.

His final thought before the curse clouded his mind was to spin Quiver away from the trees once more.

***

It didn't take long for Wildas to come to the same conclusion Coulta had about the near immortality of Varin's soldiers. He didn't stop to wonder how they had gotten that way or what sort of power Varin had come into possession of. He simply started aiming his sword for soldiers' throats.

He was surprised to find himself fighting more than he had expected. Apparently Coulta's curse knew when he'd be able to fight off would-be killers in such a situation. They were separated by the flow of battle fairly quickly, but Wildas didn't have much time to worry about his husband as he tried to stay close to his father. All he could do was hope that Coulta would find him again when he needed to.

Shelton had also left them as soon as he saw the way the twenty unicorns were being used to attack Ryal's defenders. Each of the monsters eventually fell to violet flames, at least from what Wildas could briefly see.

By the second hour of the bloody, exhausting battle, Wildas and Deandre found themselves completely cut off from their own army and surrounded by a tight knot of soldiers. Wildas fought off as many as he could while Silverblade kicked and reared. Then one of the soldiers cut the stallion's throat. Wildas was roughly dragged away by far too many hands as the stallion collapsed.

"Hold them! Don't kill them!"

Someone pulled off Wildas's helmet and he was forced to stand. Barely ten feet away from him his father was being held in the same way, his own horse dead beside Silverblade. Seeing his horse dead and his father disrespected filled Wildas with a rage that replaced his fear. He struggled to break the hold on him, but could hardly move no matter how much strength he used.

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