The Bindings of Fate by Michael DeAngelo

The Bindings of Fate by Michael DeAngelo

Author:Michael DeAngelo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Coming of Age, Dragons, Undead, Superhero
Publisher: Michael DeAngelo
Published: 2011-05-27T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Twenty

City, Sundered

As Kaos had expected, the siege upon Atalatha had already begun by the time he arrived, in those morning hours. The battle had not been going long, but both sides were already enthralled in the heat of it. That, coupled with the locked grand doors of the city, was comforting. It meant the city had been warned.

Kaos narrowed his eyes, observing the far-away formations of the enemy army. A good portion of the Blacklehnian battalions was assaulting the south gate. He knew another massive onslaught of soldiers was falling on the east gate with just as much ferocity.

He focused on the enemy at the south gate, knowing they were, by far, the easier targets. No one would expect their arrival and certainly not from behind. In Blacklehn’s front lines, footmen challenged the walls of Atalatha, setting long siege ladders against the twenty-foot-high ramparts. They went up quickly, but the Atalathian defenders removed them with equal haste. Blacklehn’s rear was brought up by a horde of archers sending scores of arrows over the walls. The scaling Blacklehnians wore large metal shields on their backs to prevent being hit with friendly fire. Atalatha’s soldiers atop the wall were equally prepared, swatting away whatever missiles they could with their tower shields.

Suddenly, a large boulder flew out among the morning sky. Kaos nearly choked on the air he breathed as the giant projectile slammed into a rampart beside the southern gate. The unsuspecting Atalathians were thrown like rag dolls from their perch, landing amongst the enemy. If they had survived, the encroaching dark army made short work of them.

Kaos scowled and pulled back on the reins, bringing the carriage to a quick stop. The force caused the two passengers inside to fall to the floor. Kaos turned past Dirk to Anson, who sat on the wagon’s roof, his knuckles white from his tight, fearful grip.

“How good is your throwing arm?”

The bard barely heard the question. He shook his head, his eyes closed tightly. He opened them slowly, a deep sigh grounding him once more. “It’s well enough,” he said.

“How far would you be able to throw this?” Kaos said, producing the large black marble he had retrieved from his home.

“I don’t know. A hundred feet, maybe?”

Kaos nodded. “And what if you were up there?” Anson followed his companion’s eyes to the bough of a relatively high tree just beyond the farmhouses nearest the great city.

“I suppose I’d be able to hit the rear flank of the army.”

Kaos arched his eyebrows and handed him the marble. “Take your lute with you as well. When you reach the top, play loudly.”

“This sounds an awful lot like a suicide mission.”

“Don’t worry,” Kaos replied. “I’ll be fine.”

“I meant for me.”

Kaos hopped off of the carriage, Dirk following close behind him. The wolf sat at his side, raising his head to look at the human. Kaos bent at his knees and began strapping the katana he grabbed from the house around the canine’s body. Anson frowned immediately.

“You’re



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