The General's Hostage

By A. C. Fox

Two powerful men. Two bitter enemies. One chance at love.

Tav Cyrdath, a powerful wind adept and a brilliant general, leads the last free humans in a war against the Boa Visk, monsters who have enslaved most of humanity. But when the man who rules Illunvia refuses to surrender, Tav is forced to take the city by sword and magic. Victorious, he intends to execute the human traitor who has done so much harm by defying him. But when the defeated ruler, Duric Darmain, begs him to spare the citizens of Illunvia, Tav finds himself overcome by sudden mercy. He takes the man as a hostage instead, intending to use him in a trap against the monsters who have set this war in motion. Duric is defeated, broken...and yet Tav can't get his enemy out of his mind. But how could he ever feel this way about a man who has betrayed all Tav stands for?

Duric knows he was only a puppet ruler for the Boa Visk, yet he has done all he can to shield his people from the cruel overlords. Now he is a prisoner, fallen from power, hated and scorned as a traitor. And yet the enemy general begins to treat him with a curious respect and eventually even kindness. He dares not trust again, but this one-time enemy makes him want to yield his heart as hostage, even as he struggles to conquer the fears he can't escape... Magic can heal wounds, but hearts must be mended with love. Both men have deep scars. Both have seen dark times. But the chance at love exists...if only they can embrace it before the Boa Visk return.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wolf Hill Publishing
• Release date: Aug 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201073527

Book preview

Table of Contents

Cover

Table of Contents

Look for these titles from A. C. Fox

Title Page

Copyright Warning

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

About the Author

Also by A. C. Fox

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Excerpt from The Captive Prince by A. C. Fox

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Chains

The Warriors of Love & Magic Series

The General’s Hostage (Book One)

The Captive Prince (Book Two)

The Dragon Hunter (Book Three)

The Warrior’s Mage (Book Four)

The Gladiator’s Slave (Book Five)

Marked (Book Six)

More M/M Fantasy Romance

Chains

Other Titles

Hold the Sky

The General’s Hostage

The Warriors of Love & Magic Book One

A. C. Fox

Etopia Press

Copyright Warning

EBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared, or given away. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is a crime punishable by law. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded to or downloaded from file sharing sites, or distributed in any other way via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000 (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/).

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Published By

Etopia Press

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The General’s Hostage

Copyright © 2016 by A. C. Fox

ISBN: 978-1-944138-50-9

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

First Etopia Press electronic publication: July 2016

~ DEDICATION ~

For David.

CHAPTER ONE

The city of Illunvia had to fall. For General Tav Cyrdath, the trick would be to conquer it with as little human life lost as possible.

He stood atop the siege tower as it rumbled toward the city’s fortifications. He wasn’t close enough yet to use his magic against the walls, and so far the defense of the city had been ferocious. The field before him was scorched and littered with wreckage and arrows…and the bodies of the fallen. To bring freedom, first he had to bring war against those he wanted to save. The battle had already been bloody and fierce, and still the city fought against him.

His soldiers stood around him with their shields raised and weapons ready. General Cyrdath kept his eyes forward, on the high city walls, his goal. He couldn’t look at the young, brave faces of his soldiers. They reminded him too much of Solen. Right now he could not afford the distraction of personal loss and pain from memories of his lost lover. He had too many men counting on him. Below the tower, his army advanced on Illunvia’s fortified walls while facing a hail of stones and arrows. The siege tower rumbled and shook as his men pulled it toward the walls.

Another wave of arrows arced through the air and fell toward his men. Tav Cyrdath summoned his magic, raising his hands and directing his focus and will. He churned up a whirlwind of air current, scattering the arrows harmlessly before they could strike his men down.

Careful, General, Namath Tolsun warned from beside him. Cyrdath’s chief advisor and strategist shaded his eyes against the glare of the sun as he scanned the battlefield. We may need all of your strength. You risk drawing attention…and attack.

Cyrdath dismissed the warning with an irritated wave of his hand, not taking his gaze from the city gate as the tower slowly shuddered and creaked toward the ramparts. He wasn’t going to stand idly by and let his men die if he could do anything to help it. His army would take enough harm this day, capturing the city. The true salt in the wound was how they were fighting against their fellow man instead of the monstrous Boa Visk, the true purge of the land.

The Boa Visk had swept across the continent of Anzin like a plague, enslaving humans, destroying every army sent against them with magic so powerful it seemed otherworldly. The creatures they used in battle were terrifying abominations never before seen in Anzin. The Boa Visk were even more vicious than the monsters they rode into war, their bite was poisonous, and they were as intelligent as any man. It had taken the remnants of the human kingdoms banding together in the north to halt their advance and finally begin to retake their lost lands.

And it had only cost Tav Cyrdath everything. It had only cost him the man he’d loved.

General! one of his flag-signalers called out, panic in his voice. The vanguard has reached the walls, but they are taking heavy losses!

Signal a unit of adepts to break from the main force and support them, he ordered the flag-signaler, who would communicate his commands in code. He kept his voice calm and his expression stone. His men could not see a flicker of doubt in his eyes or the slightest hesitation. He had to be strong for them. Always. Use protection spells and wind magics to give them cover. Pull the wounded back for the healers.

Our adepts are spread thin as it is, Namath warned. The man could be an unrepentant pessimist, but that was one of the chief reasons Cyrdath kept the strategist around. If we commit them too soon, we leave our main force vulnerable.

It is only a matter of time, was all he said in reply. Cold, certain words, but inside he seethed with impatience, willing the slowly moving siege tower to finally rattle and creek into the range of the city walls. Close enough so that he could use his most powerful magics and end this tragic bloodshed.

Because this city would be his. It was inevitable. Those were not Boa Visk on the city walls. The defenders would not fight to the death. Many of the conquered humans had been used as puppets to maintain the rule of the Boa Visk. Once his army breached the defenses, this would be over. Still, it burned like acid in his lungs that he was forced to squander his army’s strength taking this city, killing his fellow man instead of the Boa Visk. He clenched his gauntleted fist. The bloodshed…what a horrible waste. Even so, he could not risk leaving this fortified city to his rear, threatening his supply lines. And once he’d taken it, the Boa Visk forces to the south would be vulnerable.

To his right, a company of his best archers loosed a hail of return fire at the defenders on the wall. His magic adepts unleashed a torrent of deadly spells. Explosions of stone, waves of fire, bolts of lightning, and gusts of hurricane winds broke against the defenders. The spells added to the destruction caused by the falling arrows and rocks launched from Cyrdath’s catapults.

Brave men, Machas, one of his bodyguards, said as he stared at the defenders on the walls enduring the onslaught. The big man carried a shield almost as tall as Cyrdath, and his armor had to weigh ten stone. Machas had been head of Cyrdath’s guard since they’d first taken up arms against the Boa Visk. He’d also been by the general’s side when Solen died.

Too brave, Tav Cyrdath said with a shake of his head. He cursed the leader of this city who’d chosen to drive his people to slaughter instead of joining the general’s army against the Boa Visk. Some puppet ruler named Duric Darmain. He would pay for his crimes.

Another counter-barrage of arrows flew at Cyrdath’s siege tower. He touched his magic and whipped up another blast of wind, shunting the hissing arrows aside, blunting their momentum so that they fell like so many harmless sticks.

He glanced to his army’s left flank. Have Valmora’s shields advance to the wall. I want ladders up, with archers and adepts keeping the walls clear. Behind him, his signal flagger began sending the message with a series of complex motions, passed from signaler to signaler until Valmora’s men advanced on the city’s fortifications with their large shields raised, protecting the archers behind them and the men carrying the tall siege ladders.

The battle intensified once they reached the wall. His men fell. The defenders fell. Fire and death for both sides. Tav Cyrdath’s heart was stone in his chest. He couldn’t let himself feel pain for those men dying for him. Not yet, at least. He had to keep on this path or they were all lost.

Their sacrifice would not be in vain. He swore it on his honor.

Soon the leader of this city would be brought to his knees before him. Then he would make the man—suffer for choosing to defend this city when Cyrdath had given him every opportunity to surrender without bloodshed, without having the city besieged and sacked. All Cyrdath had demanded was that the gates be opened to his army and the Boa Visk turned over for imprisonment. Instead, the fool had thrown his gracious offer back in his teeth.

We’re having trouble at the main gate, Namath said, pointing toward the wide iron gate situated between two round stone towers protecting the huge city entrance.

The main gate was where most of the city’s magic adepts were stationed, along with their best archers. They tore his men apart with arrows and magic as his men attacked the gate with the battering ram. The ram was already on fire and half blasted apart. Many of his men had fallen and lay dead or dying. The few who still lived had begun to abandon the ram and scatter under the continuing onslaught of arrows and spells.

More stones flew from his catapults to crash into the gate towers to no effect. He would need to bring all his power against them if he were to end this siege quickly. The amount of magic he would have to wield would leave him dangerously weak, but he needed this bloodshed to stop. Humans against humans only meant the Boa Visk would emerge victorious.

Pull the men back, he said, raising his voice to be heard over the din of battle. I’ll destroy the gates.

Namath caught his gaze, fear marring his face. Are you certain that’s wise, General? The worst of the fighting is there. We’ll have to get close for the magic to have its maximum effect. The risk—

Is nothing, Cyrdath snapped. The ram is down. How many have to die taking this cursed city? We’re bleeding our strength away, gods be damned. He wheeled on the siege-master, who was directing the men dragging Cyrdath’s siege tower toward the city’s walls. Get me closer to the main gates!

The man sent messengers scrambling down the siege tower’s decks to the overseers. The tower lurched as it changed directions. More arrows and stones sailed their way, but this time Cyrdath ignored them, letting his shieldmen and his adepts deal with the threat. He had to gather all his strength for the killing blow.

He shouldn’t have listened to his advisors and his captains. They’d sworn his soldiers could take the city without relying upon the massive damage and death inflicted by Cyrdath’s magic. They hadn’t wanted their general at the front of the charge, risking his life in the chaos and bloodshed. He’d reluctantly agreed, not because he feared to risk his life, but because he’d hoped to minimize the destruction of Illunvia and the terrible cost of human lives. But clearly the defenders were determined. This would not be as easy as his commanders claimed.

And so he would no longer stand by and watch his men die. Soon the siege tower would be close enough for him to bring his strongest spells to bear. He would shatter the gates himself, and then the city of Illunvia would finally be free.

* * *

Seneschal Duric Darmain stood at the crenellations of the highest balcony on Illunvia’s citadel. From here, he looked down on the walls, trying to best direct the city’s defenses against attacks that seemed to constantly come out of nowhere and hammer them where they were weakest. Thus far, nothing he had done had made a difference.

As another rain of arrows hissed down upon the towers and ramparts of his city, Duric Darmain watched the carnage with gritted teeth and a heart so weary it felt like a frozen stone in his chest. He watched helplessly as a young man took an arrow to the chest, fell backward off the ramparts, and smashed to the ground below.

His city was lost. It was only a matter of time. He was terrified of what would happen when the invaders breached the walls and ran loose through the streets. He only prayed they would be merciful.

Please come inside where it’s safe, my lord, one of his retainers said, pawing at his elbow. There’s no need to watch this. Our glorious city will never fall. The Boa Visk will break the siege.

Duric wanted to strike the man. Only the knowledge that he would shatter the man’s jaw with his steel gauntlet kept him from doing so. The Boa Visk. He hated them almost as much as he feared them.

Your servant is right. The low, rumbling voice seemed closer to a growl than to speech. Heed his words and rejoice. You only need to hold out for as long as your lives last. Soon my people will arrive.

Duric glanced at the one who’d spoken, keeping his expression carefully blank. He didn’t dare show an ounce of anger or disrespect toward Vontonq, the advisor left by the conquering Boa Visk armies years ago. Vontonq wore long, flowing robes covered with black braided cords like whips, indicating his high rank. Two of his personal Boa Visk guard stood near him, clutching their odd spears, tipped with wavy, poisoned blades. Vontonq’s scaled, yellow-green skin glistened, and his orange eyes gleamed. His advice always came in the form of barely veiled commands that Duric dare not defy.

I will rejoice when the city is safe, Duric replied cautiously to the reptilian creature. By now he was skilled at dealing with Vontonq. He didn’t allow his bitterness to taint his words, although a dozen times a day he wished to see Vontonq dead and all of his personal guard of Boa Visk warriors thrown from the walls. But Duric’s responsibility was to the people of Illunvia, not their conquerors, though he would never admit that to the Boa Visk.

Admitting the truth would mean his death. A worthless death, as the Boa Visk would merely replace him with another puppet, another of their cowed dogs, and perhaps one far less concerned about keeping some semblance of humanity alive in the city.

All along the city’s fortified walls, more of the city’s guard hurried up the stairs to defend the ramparts. They carried fresh bundles of arrows or hauled stones for the catapults. One of the city’s towers had already lost its crown to some huge blast of magic that had blown it apart and sent shards of stones raining down fifty paces away. The enemy had so many magic adepts it was disheartening. Meanwhile, he had to protect his few adepts as best he could. The size of the attacking army, not to mention their sophistication and disciplined battle tactics, was staggering.

Vontonq spoke again, his orange eyes flashing. I suggest enlisting the citizens to bolster the guard. Give them each a spear. Have them carry arrows and stones. Every human should rejoice to give his life for the glory of the High Undlev, the Lirdov Camaan.

Sending the people to their deaths would result in a slaughter. The unarmed and unarmored citizens would fare even worse than the city guard against these attackers. As for the glory to the Lirdov Camaan—no human had any feeling for the high ruler of the Boa Visk except fear.

The city was doomed, whether Duric wasted the lives of the poor citizens or not. He had no hope of defeating this human army that had come claiming to liberate the land from the Boa Visk. But had he accepted their offer, it would not have changed the outcome. The Boa Visk would eventually arrive in numbers so large they would crush this upstart human army like a bug, and Illunvia for supporting them. Better to lose some of his people to the human army, than lose them all to the Boa Visk.

Before he could settle on a reply to Vontonq’s suggestion to use the terrified populace as fodder, a messenger burst onto the balcony, gasping for breath and deadly pale, sweat coursing down his face.

The gates, the messenger said between harsh gasps of breath. The gates are in danger…

The Boa Visk turned his orange eyes to regard the man contemptuously. Their battering ram is in ruins. The gates stand.

The messenger flinched at being addressed by the Boa Visk, as well he should. At times they maimed human messengers if the information was not to their liking. But for all his bluster, Vontonq had to be worried. He had thirty or so Boa Visk warriors serving as his personal guard in Illunvia, but even they would not be enough to hold the citadel and keep Vontonq safe. If the human army