Sacrifice of Ericc

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Sacrifice of Ericc Page 34

by Anthony G. Wedgeworth

A loud howl from the hill caught everyone’s attention, as an army of Del’Unday charged into the valley. Some at a run, other riding Fesh’Undays, they descended toward the camp with murderous screams of war. The Corrockians had finally caught up to Ericc and those who helped him escape.

  General Hatch immediately reassembled his troops against the Del’Unday, an enemy he had fought many times. “Fall in line. Two tier front. Archers at center and side points.”

  The first to attack were the Entelodont hogs, with shoulders taller than Thorik and long snouts with two large lower saber-like teeth. Jumping down onto the Eastland troops, the men lifted their spears in the air to skewer them as they landed. Spears snapped in half as the beasts hard underbellies withstood most of the blows, and yet nearly a fourth of the hogs were seriously injured from the first wave.

  The crushing weight of the hogs flattened many of the men as they proceeded past the front lines. With their heads down, the hogs charged the second line of defense with their thick frontal horns.

  The general gave his orders to a well-organized battalion. Archers fired, taking out the majority of the hogs before they could reach the second line.

  The front line held fast against the remaining hogs and prepared for the oncoming Brandercats who blinked in and out of visibility. The Eastland men tossed handfuls of white powder in front of the battle line. Large invisible cats raced forward, running through the powder, which clung to their feet and legs, allowing the men to see them.

  Eastland guards began to thrust their spears forward at the locations where the painted feet shined bright in the torchlight. Hitting their marks more often than not, the men prevented most of the Del’Unday from breaching the first line of defense.

  Krupes finally crested over the hill and surveyed the scene. A single Blothrud was barking out orders to the stocky creatures coated in black metal armor. The Krupes were the foundation to the Del army, defensively tough with excellent battle skills and a strong constitution.

  The general pulled his frontal defense line back into an arch to capture the Krupes in the center. Ordering his archers into new positions, he walked toward the center of the front line’s arch. He knew the drill. He knew once the Del’Unday have sent their preliminary forces into battle, the leading Blothrud would be open to talking about a surrender. General Hatch had no plan on surrendering, he was winning the battle, but it was a good opportunity to size up his opponent.

  Krupes lined up straight across the hill, unwilling to bend to the men’s arch, as the Blothrud walked forward into it.

  Taller than Santorray, this Blothrud wore decorative jewelry created from pieces of his prior victims’ bodies. A few skulls clanked together on a rope over his shoulder, threaded eyeballs swung from a necklace, and rib cage and finger bones created a helmet.

  “I am General Hatch from Eastland. We have the right to travel the O’Sid fields.”

  The Blothrud spit on the general’s boot. “You have our prisoner and the criminals who helped him escape.”

  “We have them in custody. But they will be held in our kingdom for their crimes against our people before we consider if they are to be given to you. What be your name, beast.”

  “Bellfor.”

  For the first time, the general realized he was dealing with a seasoned veteran, a legend among the Del’Unday’s. “Bellfor the Savage? Your reputation precedes you. I am surprised you’re willing to come forward and offer us a chance at surrendering, even though we obviously still have the upper hand.”

  “I’m not offering anything. I’ve come to take back what is ours and punish those responsible.”

  Shuffling of the general’s troops caught Hatch’s eyes. A legion of Krupes appeared on each side of the valley. He had underestimated the number of creatures at the Blothrud’s disposal.

  “Do you honestly expect us to stand by and let you take our prisoners?”

  “No, I expect you to die trying to stop me.”

  Uncharacteristic of these types of talks, a second human approached the center ring. Easily a head taller than most men, his muscles were well defined and his legs were the size of tree trunks. A long sword in one hand and a short sword in the other, he made it clear that he was not afraid of the Blothrud.

  General Hatch welcomed his companion. “Sir Dovenar Knight Asentar, please meet the legendary Bellfor of Corrock we’ve heard so much about. I believe this was the Blothrud you were in search of.”

  Asentar stood solid at the general’s side, sizing up the creature. “I have no bad blood with you, Bellfor. It would be wise for both of us to keep it that way. For I have come to speak with your leaders about an alliance of power to prevent Darkmere’s approaching war. I implore you to prevent this fight from escalating so we can discuss our potential future.”

  Bellfor snarled and spit at the general.

  A flash of a short sword panned in front of General Hatch, catching the Blothrud’s saliva. Asentar then wiped the spit off on his boot. “You will not intimidate us.”

  “Then we will just kill you.” Howling in the air, Bellfor signaled his army to attack. Lunging forward to rip the general’s head off, he was blocked by Asentar, who quickly became engaged in a heated fight with the Blothrud.

  General Hatch was confident in the knight’s ability to hold off Bellfor as he returned to command his troops to ensure a victory.

  The sound of a hundred Krupes running in metal armor from all sides was ominous and terrifying. Reversing the front line’s arch, General Hatch now had three of his four sides protected.

  The battle had begun.

  More Brandercats arrived under the illusion of sporadic invisibility. Enormous terra grubs broke through the earth and pulled men underground, eating them whole. Krupes deflected the arrows and most blades with their strong black armor, while more hogs charged the lines. The Del’Unday were designed to fight wars.

  Organized and disciplined, the men fought back. Close range bow attacks allowed arrows to enter Krupe helmet eye-holes and kill whatever existed inside the mass of metal. Brandercats were stabbed and Entelodont hogs were attacked from both sides. Sacrifices were made as minor victories were achieved by coordinated efforts.

  The blades of Bellfor and Asentar clashed again and again. The two warriors tested each other’s strength only to find Bellfor had the advantage. However, Asentar’s speed and skill with the sword was dominant.

  Bellfor swung his mighty flail with one hand and a multi-pointed black blade with his other. Hammering hard against his opponent, he knew that all it would take was for one of his blows to shatter a leg or arm, ending the agility of the human.

  General Hatch was consumed with his troops, and failed to notice his captives.

  As the battle waged on, several of the Krupes moved over to the prisoners in an effort to take them back to Corrock. Breaking the chains from the post, they pulled Thorik’s group to their feet.

  When pulled forward, Gluic fell to ground, knocking many of her feathers from her hair. Spreading her fingers wide on the hard earth, she smiled before being helped up by her son. “Oh my. Here we go.”

  “Yes, mother, here we go again.”

  “No, my son. They have finally arrived.”

  “Brimmelle dusted his mother’s knees off. “Who? Who has arrived?”

  The ground began to rumble, lightly at first and then a rough earth-shaking tremble.

  A thousand Chuttlebeast stormed into camp, hooves beating onto the ground. The constant thumping of the Spear of Rummon had called the beasts into heat. Lust had lured several herds into the valley for a display of dominance.

  Chuttles ran over men and Del’Unday alike. Brandercats were flung in the air, Krupes bounced off the cubic heads of the smelly beasts, and men were trampled. No one was safe.

  A few hogs met their marks, biting hard into the Chuttlebeasts, but the numbers weren’t in their favor and it wasn’t long before the hogs had to run for their lives.

  The Krupes pulled harder onto Tho
rik’s chain, forcing his group to walk faster in an effort to get over the hill and out of the local anarchy.

  Chuttles ran in front and behind the group as Grewen dug his heels into the ground, preventing a safe escape into the Del’Unday’s hands.

  Gluic fell again from the tug-of-war between Grewen and the Krupes.

  Angered at the captive’s resistance, one of the Krupes pulled out his spiked mace and swung it hard at Gluic’s head.

  Just then, a Chuttle crashed its way through the Krupes as the mace swung at the Num, causing it to miss. A blur of thick wool passed in front of the Gluic, leaving only the unattended ends to their chains. The beast had left no sign of the Krupes.

  Grewen was pleased at their luck, until he himself became a victim to the rampaging herd. Hit hard in his back, by a stray Chuttlebeast, the Mognin crashed to the ground, just missing the Nums. His chains prevented the Nums from seeking safety as they attempted to help Grewen back to his feet.

  Loud cracks of Chuttle heads rocked the valley as the carnage increased. Tents had started on fire while men and Altereds screamed in pain, as the Chuttlebeasts frantically struggled to find the source of the thumping.

  A blade swung in front of Thorik, just missing his body. Instead, it crashed down, breaking his chains.

  “Go get that damn spear so we can get out of here,” Santorray said.

  Thorik looked up at the Blothrud. Santorray looked like a pincushion, with arrows embedded in his shoulders and chest. Blood poured forth from the wounds, as he struggled to lift his saber again to free the next Num.

  Thorik couldn’t believe Santorray was still alive in such a dire state. “Are you…”

  “Get going! Hurry,” the Blothrud demanded.

  Thorik took Santorray’s order and raced down the hill toward the spear. The smell of the Chuttles was thicker in the bottom the valley, burning his eyes so bad it was difficult to see.

  Jumping and rolling out of a Chuttle’s charge, Thorik landed at the feet of an Eastland soldier who quickly grabbed him.

  “Got’cha,” was the only thing the soldier said before a Krupe’s heavy mace crushed his forehead, releasing Thorik to the ground.

  A quick heavy boot to Thorik’s stomach kept the Num from escaping, as the Krupe lifted his mace to bury it deep into his chest.

  Another Chuttle plowed over Thorik, taking the Krupe with him.

  Thorik was in the heart of the mess and knew the spear was close. Diving from one place to another he finally spotted Rummon and jumped for it.

  Pulling it out of the ground, he turned to find a large square wool-covered head bearing down on him. There was no time to move, as Thorik held the spear with both hands and braced for the impact.

  A snarl from within the spear sprang toward the beast, hitting it in the head as though it had knocked up against another Chuttle.

  Pulling hard to the side, the beast charged forward as the side of his head hit Thorik, smacking the Num hard to the ground.

  Lucky to not have been hit head-on, Thorik only had the wind knocked out of him. Standing back up, the Num spotted Ericc, who looked confused as he still had trouble standing and seeing.

  The Chuttlebeast, which Thorik had avoided, was now heading directly at Ambrosius’ son at a full gallop.

  Ericc looked over at Thorik just as the beast’s head hit him. Ericc vanished instantly and reappeared next to the Num. “Where’s Darkmere? They said he would come for me.”

  Thorik couldn’t believe his eyes. He must have seen it wrong. People couldn’t change locations in a blink of an eye. “We saved you from him.”

  Ericc struggled from his health and fell to one knee. “No, I need to go back!” he demanded before he started to collapse.

  Thorik helping Ericc back to his feet, and led him back through the mayhem toward his group, with the spear out in front. A corridor opened for their escape in whichever direction he pointed the spear. The two scrambled over the hill and into the next small valley to catch up to Grewen, Santorray and the Nums.

  The Mognin ripped out the last few arrows from Santorray’s back, as the Blothrud screamed in pain. His own blood had coating his lower body and much of the ground.

  Thorik watched the Blothrud pass out after the last arrow was removed. “Is he going to make it?”

  After wrapping his upper body in cloths to stop the bleeding, Grewen picked up the nearly lifeless Blothrud and headed east, away from the camp and the chaos. “He’s lost a lot of blood. Arrows penetrated deep at that close range. It’s hard to say.”

 

 

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