Chapter 34 #2
“Don’t,” he growled, cutting her off. “Don’t even finish that thought. Nothing will happen to you. Not while I’m still breathing.”
But she held firm. “If something were to happen to me,” she insisted, “you’ll take care of Kaixo, won’t you?”
Leukos hesitated only a heartbeat before answering. “Of course.”
The Non-Human boy meant more to him than he cared to admit. Leukos knew too well the weight of Kaixo’s pain and loneliness after losing his mother. That knowledge sparked a fierce protectiveness—he would watch over the boy, no matter what.
Pelagios’ booming voice pierced through the trees. “Soldiers! Line up!”
Nik slid into formation beside the Silver Shield as the others snapped to attention, pulling on helmets and settling into disciplined ranks. Moments later, Theo approached, leading Leukos’ horse by the reins.
Alena’s expression sobered, and she bit her lip. “Leukos—”
“Stay with Phoebe,” he cut her off, unease coiling tight in his gut at the thought of saying goodbye again. “She’ll protect you.”
“But most of Theo’s plan relies on you,” she pressed.
“Don’t worry about me.” He forced the words out, eyes fixed ahead. “Just stay focused—and summon the Cyprian’s armour for protection.”
She nodded, her green eyes searching his face before flicking to the soldiers waiting for their orders. “The plan will work, won’t it?”
Leukos clenched his fists, aching to close the distance between them, but the memory of her pained cry when his magic had touched her held him frozen. Instead, he gave a sharp, distant nod. “We’ll make them pay. I promise.”
She stepped closer, reaching out, but he turned away before her hand could bridge the gap. He gripped the reins instead, jaw tight. Theo shot him a disapproving look, but Leukos ignored it. If keeping his distance was what it took to protect her, then so be it.
He swung into the saddle, chest constricting as her voice drifted after him, soft and wavering.
“Be careful out there.”
Leukos sat atop his horse, eyes fixed on the small gate and the hastily constructed watchtower. The sun hung high, exposing every flaw and strength in the Rasennans’ defences. He couldn’t help but admire their efficiency—their organisation and discipline made them formidable.
The Achaean League under his father’s command had been sprawling but disjointed, an uncoordinated rabble. No wonder they’d been overwhelmed, even with alliances forged with the Western Tribes and the Amazons.
His gaze stayed locked on the watchtower, where the soldiers had already spotted them. Almost fifty men stood at his back, ready to take on one of the fiercest cohorts in the Rasennan army.
Fifty against five hundred.
He could almost hear the enemy’s laughter, a taunt that mocked their numbers.
Beside him, Nik and Theo shifted in their saddles, the tension palpable. Magic surged through Leukos’ veins, a violent torrent aching to be released. But first, he had to draw as many men to the gate as possible. The rescue party’s success depended on it.
Nik scratched the scruff on his jaw, breaking the silence. “You sure you can do this? Freeze the palisade?”
Leukos shot him a dark look. “Don’t insult me.”
“Because we’ve all heard about your performance issues,” Nik went on with a smirk, “so if you’d rather sit this one out—”
“Say another word and I’ll freeze something other than your tongue,” he growled. Only Nik would crack jokes on the edge of battle.
Theo snorted. “You freeze anything down there, and the ladies will riot.”
“Oh, I think Nik’s only got one woman on his mind,” Leukos said.
Nik crossed his arms, feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Theo’s eyebrows shot up, and he leaned over his horse to get a better look at him. “Wait… Are you talking about Alena’s sister? The praefect? No chance. She’d chew you up and spit you out—”
Nik’s grin widened, and Leukos could practically hear the lewd remark brewing—until the cohort leader appeared at the top of the watchtower, distinguished by his red armband. The banter died instantly.
“Here we go,” Leukos muttered, dismounting.
Nik and Theo followed, flanking him while Pelagios stayed back with the men.
As they approached, a line of Rasennan archers emerged, bows drawn. A cold wind rustled their feathered shafts, but not a man wavered.
Leukos halted, narrowing his eyes at the cohort leader perched in the watchtower.
“Well, boys,” the man called out in Rhaetic, his grin a smug slash across his face. “I’ve heard the Tirynthians were brave, but I didn’t know they couldn’t count.”
Laughter rippled through the Rasennan ranks. At least a hundred soldiers stood ready. Not enough. Leukos needed the entire camp’s attention.
“I’ll only say this once,” he declared, his voice carrying across the rampart. “Surrender now, and you’ll be spared. Your leader is an idiot who’s led you to your doom. Drop your weapons, and you may live.”
Theo groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Leukos…”
The cohort leader’s smirk snapped into a snarl, his face mottling red. “Who are you calling an idiot when you’re about to be annihilated?”
Leukos held his ground, magic simmering just beneath the surface.
A cold, ice-blue glow spread over him, frost gathering in the air.
“I am Leukos, third prince of Megara, rightful heir to the throne, and leader of the Achaean rebellion.” The chill deepened, ice crystals blooming across the earth. “And your time to surrender is over.”
“Oh, shit…” Nik whispered, backing away.
For a heartbeat, silence reigned. Then the cohort leader snapped to life. “Archers! Fire at will!”
A wave of arrows darkened the sky, raining down towards them. Leukos didn’t so much as blink. The ice crystals swirling around him whipped into a cyclone, spinning at impossible speed.
“Kill anyone who gets past me,” he told Nik and Theo, his voice as cold as the storm inside him.
He raised his hand. With a single flick, a barrage of jagged ice shards tore upwards, shredding the arrows apart in a glittering explosion of frost and splinters.
Two horns blared from the palisade, their warning echoing through the camp. Another volley arced overhead. Leukos barely spared it a glance as the icy vortex around him thickened, turning every shaft that neared into frozen dust.
The Rasennan soldiers faltered, unease flickering across their faces.
Leukos advanced on the gate, the North Wind’s power thrumming in his veins—an unstoppable force. So long as he kept it under control, Nik’s Mark wouldn’t react. And Theo’s plan would work.
Dozens more soldiers flooded the courtyard, pressing shoulder to shoulder with the archers, their eyes wide with mounting dread.
“Capture the prince!” the cohort leader roared from the platform. “Kill the others!”
The Rasennans charged, a wall of bodies rushing forward, and Leukos smirked.
They outnumbered him, but numbers meant little against the ice storm in his veins.
They were men with swords and shields; he was winter’s wrath made flesh.
It was unfair, really, but fairness wasn’t something Leukos concerned himself with.
Frost exploded outwards from his boots, racing across the ground like a living serpent.
It slithered through the gates, climbed the wooden stakes of the barricade, and froze the gate wide open.
Around him, icicles swelled, spinning faster until they became a glittering cyclone—a deadly, sparkling vortex shielding his body.
The soldiers faltered, eyes darting between the creeping frost and lethal ring of shards.
Too late.
Leukos raised his hand, and the icicles shot forward with lethal precision, piercing every inch of exposed flesh. Faces, arms, legs—no part was spared. Soldiers collapsed where they stood, some dead instantly, others writhing on the ground, their screams tearing through the air.
The entrance courtyard dissolved into chaos, the once-confident Rasennans reduced to bodies scattered in the wake of Leukos’ cold fury. He didn’t bother counting the dead—only hoped his devastation had thinned their numbers enough.
Drawing his sword, he rushed to the palisade, boots crunching on frozen ground as he moved to execute the next phase of Theo’s plan.
The urgent blare of horns split the air just as Pelagios thundered: “Charge!”
The Achaeans surged forward like a breaking wave, war cries splitting the sky as they slammed into fresh Rasennans ranks pouring towards the gate.
Leukos pressed his hand to the rough timber, letting magic surge through him like a flood breaking loose.
Frost streaked along the stakes, ice spreading rapidly, encasing the wall in a thick, gleaming shell.
Now the entire camp would be on high alert.
The rest of the cohort would rush to the gate, giving Danaos and the others the opening they needed to free the prisoners.
With luck, some soldiers might break rank and flee into the forest, convinced the battle was already lost.
And in truth, it was.
Pelagios, at the forefront, raised his arm high.
A shimmering round shield appeared in his grasp, its silver surface blazing with the Sea God’s power.
Every glint of light refracted into blinding beams, forcing the Rasennans to protect their eyes, their defence unravelling.
Pelagios was a beacon of strength, Achaean soldiers rallying behind him as he cleaved a path with brutal precision, his shield deflecting blow after blow.
Nik, in contrast, was a deadly blur—darting through chaos like a shadow.
He slipped past the Rasennans’ shield wall, his impossible speed leaving opponents reeling.
One by one, they fell, the line buckling under his relentless assault.
Every fallen soldier opened another gap for the Achaeans to exploit.