The leader of another bill-man unit in the center division saw the start of a disaster and pulled his unit toward the neighboring division and fell on the left flank of the poll-axe unit. The attack ended the threat, but was the first of what would be many acts that would lead to the chaos that reigned in battle.
. . .
“Should the battle continue as it is, we shall have victory, Sire,” Lord Arundel said as the lines bent and bulged with the press of men fighting bitterly. “A bloody one, but our numbers will win the night.”
“I would agree,” Harold replied, “but Malig has something else to bring to the field. He must.” Eying the lines, he noted the gap between the center and left divisions was gone, the two pressing together as the fight raged. The right was a different matter. Malig’s attack there pulled the fight northward, increasing the gap between center and right. Gesturing at the growing space, he said, “Let us move to the right. If things do continue as they are, an attack on their flank might bring victory sooner.”
“Break that division of Malig’s and we can pivot south and roll up the rest,” Sir Oliver said.
. . .
“Sire,” a knight called as he rode toward Malig and his retinue. “The usurper and his followers move to the left.”
“You saw this yourself?” Malig asked.
“The banners, Sire. These I did see.”
Malig smiled. “Things begin to move now. We ride that way ourselves then.” Looking to the knight, he said, “The three mercenary companies in the middle division, order them to drive Harold’s center southward. Widen the gap. The left, that is where this battle shall be decided.”
As his force moved north, Malig uncoiled the chained amulet and his smile grew. “The left,” he said with a laugh. The gash in the northern sky flashed with red-orange bolts.
. . .
Chapter 31
Erie led the way and soon came to a stop at the northward turn in the old road.
“The slope through the trees is scalable,” he whispered with a point west up the incline toward the castle as the others joined him. “It’s faster and our exposure on the road below the castle is less.”
“If there are any observers, we could stay within the trees to hide our move around to the southern side of the castle, yes?” Dissy said.
Erie nodded.
“Proceed,” Dech said.
Taking a diagonal course up the slope, Erie sought the least cluttered and flattest ground he could to ensure a quiet approach. Stopping several times to rest and make sure they were on course, they eventually neared the road that ran below the castle along its eastern side.
Squatting at the edge of the tree line and scanning the castle for any foes that might be on watch along the walls or within the towers, Josip saw no sign of mercenary or monster.
Relaying this to Dech, he then asked, “Take the road or stay in the trees?”
“The road,” Dech said with a troubled look. “We have traveled all day and time is running out. The road is quicker and less strenuous to cover.”
Erie nodded. “The road then.”
Checking the walls and towers once again, Josip moved clear of the trees and looked skyward, the others doing so as well. Snarling at the hole in the sky, they could see red-orange energy pulsing within, bolts of it arced downward to flash above the castle. Dark forms descended, and with their close vantage point, they could see winged bipeds spiraling downward, many of them carrying other creatures in long arms.
“It will be… interesting to see what awaits us inside,” Mayhaps said.
Moving quickly up the road, Josip stopped again at the sight of dead bodies littering the slope beneath the curtain wall, some hanging from trees that had managed to grow on the uneven surface. Mercenaries and workers savagely killed showed signs of ragged claw marks and wounds from edged weapons.
Examining some of them, Granum said, “They were killed this afternoon if I gauge their stage of death correctly.”
“That means we have infernals to worry about,” Dissy said. “They hold the castle now.”
Josip leaned in closely to Granum. “How keen are the senses on these creatures?”
“They are not from here and are still feeling their way,” Adelbert replied. “Until they understand this place and what we mortals can do, they are at a disadvantage. Those that have been here for a bit, such as those we saw earlier today, they will have gained much since then. That said, they walk on strange ground.”
Josip looked to Dech and receiving a nod, resumed the journey.
The road south veered away from the castle around a rocky protrusion near the ruined corner tower. In the shadows at the base of this formation stood two dark creatures of stout build and the stature similar to that of most human men. Leathery skin covered lean muscles and long limbs. Fearsome claws tipped elongated, four-fingered hands. Watching the south, the two monsters knew nothing of those behind them.
“Grindans,” Adelbert said in an almost inaudible voice. “From the Ifrunn Plane.”
“No wings,” Dissy whispered.
“They are strictly terrestrial beings,” Granum replied. “Sight hunters, if the texts have it right.”
“We need to be rid of them, yes?” Erie said.
“We do,” Dech whispered.
“Allow me,” Erie said as he pushed past Dech. Passing his spear to Granum before drawing his blades, he gestured with his head toward Dissy. “If she’ll cover me with her bow, I’ll deal with them. All muss, no fuss.”
Knowing Dech wouldn’t object, Diz stepped forward. “I assume an arrow in the head will kill those creatures?”
“Should it pierce the brain, most certainly,” Granum said.
“I’ll stay close in case I am needed,” Dech said.
Nodding, Erie crouched and moved soundlessly toward the two creatures, Dissy and Dech following a short distance behind.
As they drew near, they could hear the two creatures speaking in quiet tones. Concentrating on being silent, Erie ignored the words.
Rising behind the leftmost of the pair, his daggers cut silver streaks in the air, dropping the grindan. The other creature responded instantly, turning and slashing with claws.
Erie’s quickness and nimbleness kept him clear of harm as he went low and stabbed the creature’s midsection several times.
Seeing the grindan’s lizard like face, Diz became concerned its heavy brows indicated a thick skull. Changing her point of aim to its chest, she drew and released, nocked another arrow and repeated. The grindan collapsed to its knees before falling onto its side.
Granum rushed past Dissy and stopped next to the downed monster. The others soon joined him.
“We begin our grand march,” the grindan said in a wheezing voice. “We set out to conquer a new plane. A feat we pursue, a feat not accomplished in many thousands of these mortal’s years.”
“It speaks our tongue,” Erie said.
“Many infernals adapt to new languages in mere minutes of listening,” Granum said. “Some speak their own tongue and no more. This one must have picked it up somewhere.”
The creature continued as if it didn’t know it was grievously wounded or that six mortals stood over it.
“We will reduce the flesh of mortal young in our ovens of sacrifice. We fashion thralls of the worthy and cast the rest onto the pyres that shall burn long into the time to come. The screams shall power incantations that drive the Dark Crusade to the ends of this realm. No mercy will—”
Dissy snarled as she spoke over the infernal creature’s ranting. “That’s enough. I’m sure Mayhaps has plenty of fodder now, so I can put steel through its head, yes?”
“Yes,” Dech answered.
A quick thrust silenced the creature. While Dissy wiped the blade clean with a handful of leaf litter, the other downed infernal stirred, but only enough to demonstrate it was not yet dead. Dissy stood and strode toward the creature, a gesture from Granum halting her.
“This one m
ay be more informative,” the scholar said.
Kneeling next to the monster, he laid Erie’s spear on the ground beside him and placed a hand on the creature’s head. Blinking rapidly before nodding, he said, “Yes, its mind is still functioning, but not for long.”
“What is it thinking?” Erie said.
“It recalls Olk’s orders to kill the remaining workers and the mercenaries here. It feels delight at the screams some made as they were thrown over the wall and died.”
Erie snorted and shook his head. “Sounds like these creatures have a lot in common with the mercenaries.”
“That it does,” Dissy agreed.
“Does it know where Mirkness is?” Dech asked.
“Yes. The southern restored tower on the uppermost floor.”
Soon, the creature ceased its movements and Granum announced, “It has passed.”
“Any estimation of how many infernal beings are inside the walls?”
“Hundreds if the images I saw were any reflection of reality.”
Dech rubbed the mail coif covering his head and blew out a long breath. “We’ll need to sneak our way in.”
“That may be well in the realm of possibility. The creature’s memory pictured most of the others within the bailey near the rubble of the western wall.”
“The opposite side of where we need to go,” Erie said.
“Precisely,” Granum replied. “If they remain there that is.”
“Let us go see,” Josip said. “Slow and quiet until we know what we’re dealing with.”
“We’ll leave our baggage here,” Dech replied with a point at the base of the rock protrusion.
“We’ll recover it later, yes?” Mayhaps said hopefully.
Dech nodded.
“Once inside the walls with that many foes, Adelbert and I will need to cast should we be compromised,” Dealan said.
“Yes,” Granum replied. “Infernal fire spells are well countered with those of rime and hoar. Considering our proximity, Mirkness will be fully aware of us if it comes to that.”
“If it does,” Dech said as he affixed the silver shin spikes Phidias had provided, “we drive for the tower and go directly for him.”
Seeing that everyone understood, Josip started up the path toward the entry, each member of the party taking only what they needed to deal with Olk Mirkness and those supporting him. The gatehouse that once provided guarded entry into the fortification was now little more than blocks of stone strewn across the ground, the walls on either side in similar condition. Inside the walls, a quartet of winged creatures descended on bat like wings to land in the bailey near hundreds of other infernal creatures. Folding their wings and drawing weapons, the monsters pulsed with dark fire and changed form. As ash fell from their bodies, they now carried the form of men, but large and distorted. Near enough their voices could be heard by those at the entry, the newly-arrived creatures spoke in a harsh tongue.
Seeing Granum listening intently, Dissy said, “You understand them?”
“Not entirely, but enough to know what they say. It is much like the grindans’ mutterings. ‘We win or die on this plane,’ is the gist of it.”
“Let’s see that it is the latter.”
Erie looked over the approach to Mirkness’ tower and grimaced. The longer he examined the area the more sour his expression became.
“There are too many eyes and no hidden path for us, is there?” Mayhaps said.
“You have grasped it fully, old pal,” Erie said.
Dech seethed in silence before uttering, “We wait then. Perhaps an idea will present itself.”
“I guess that means you cannot manage to slay a bailey full of demons with that enchanted poll-axe?” Mayhaps asked.
Dech glared before his expression softened. “I cannot, but keep trying. It seems we have time.”
A shout came from the upper window of the tower where Olk Mirkness toiled, a hollow yet piercing voice.
“That is Mirkness,” Dealan said as the voice spoke in the same strange tongue they had heard earlier.
“A call to arms… I think,” Granum said. “They march.”
As Adelbert spoke, the infernal creatures stirred and began moving toward the people hiding near the remnants of the gatehouse.
“We best vacate this position then,” Erie said.
“Wait,” Dech said.
The sound of guttering fire came from the bailey as hundreds of the creatures burst into dark flames and changed forms. Sprouting wings, they ran south before taking flight, many of them lifting grindans and other non-winged beings from the ground to take with them.
Dech’s band huddled among the stone blocks while a flock of dark shapes flashed overhead, their wing beats stirring the air. After a flurry of motion and sound, quiet took hold. A look in the bailey revealed perhaps a dozen creatures roaming the interior of the old walls while to the south a cloud of infernals faded from sight.
Dech snarled. “That bodes poorly for those that fight Malig.” He stood. “All the more reason to deal with Mirkness posthaste.”
Pulling free the strap that held the poll-axe across his back, Dech replaced it with his shield and scabbarded his sword. Looking at his companions he saw they too made ready.
“I knew I would come up with a solution,” Mayhaps said examining the sharpened edges of his borrowed war sword.
“And what solution was it, bard?” Erie asked.
“Make quips until the nasty creatures fly away. See how well it worked. Simple, but brilliant, thief.”
Erie smiled. “If you can do the same with Mirkness, I’ll be impressed.”
“Are we ready?” Dech asked. Receiving nods from his five companions, he nodded in return. “We have come a long way in a very short while. Let us see our task ended this night.”
“I am many things, but a seer I am not,” Granum said hefting Erie’s spear. “Still, I am confident we will succeed. As formidable as Olk Mirkness might be, he cannot stand against us.”
“What about the monsters in the bailey?” Erie said.
“If they stand in our way, we destroy them swiftly,” Dech replied. “Mirkness is our target and we must take him to task as quickly as possible.”
Dech looked at his companions once more and saw no fear. Nodding, he said, “Let’s go.”
. . .
“They fly, King Malig,” Olk’s voice said through the amulet. “I summoned considerable forces from across the Infernal Planes as a contingency. They will soon be there. A being named Buryel will approach you, a fierce and foul creature that commands the respect of those he leads. Tell him what you require and he will provide you service.”
Malig smiled at the thought and looked toward the orifice that hung in the sky to the north. “I see them. These demons, are they intelligent?”
“They are not all demons. From the Infernal Planes, yes, but of many races. Some are merely savage dolts, but Buryel leads and they will follow and obey.”
“Then the tide of this battle soon changes. I will speak to you again.”
“May the crown of Arataine be yours again when you do.”
Malig laughed and placed the amulet in a pouch on his sword belt. He stood and looked over the field and caught quick snatches of the action as the smoke that clouded the air swirled in the light winds. Seeing enough to know the battle on the right was becoming a chaotic melee, he looked to the left division. The battle was a bloody one with bodies littering the field, but there was still unit cohesion on the left. Seeing this and knowing Harold was there as well, Malig knew what he would do.
“Have the left fall back in order and reform,” he called. “Quickly.”
Knowing Harold’s forces would take the time to reform as well, he nodded. “Timing. It is all a matter of timing now.”
Looking north again, Malig saw large and winged shapes descending. Riding farther to the rear, the creatures landed near him. Just as Dech and his band had seen, Malig and his entourage now watched the creature
s transform from their flight form into terrestrial monsters. One of the largest walked directly at Malig, his knights reaching for steel.
“Stay here,” Malig said as he rode toward the creature. “It is no threat.” He laughed. “These are our reserve force.”
Malig laughed again as he rode away, knowing those behind him looked on with bewilderment and fear.
“You are the human king called Malig?” the demon asked as the exile drew close.
“I am. You are Buryel?”
“Yes. Archton of Brynstone demons and many others. You have a service we may provide?”
“I do. The killing of foes. Those who serve the usurper Harold. Can you read a map?”
“If representational of the field, yes. We know battle and are here to reap.”
Malig grunted an acknowledgement and waved at one of his knights. “The map and drawing, bring it.”
After taking the map, he unfolded it and faced it toward Buryel. Looking from the map to the field a few times, the demon dipped its head once. “I see.”
Placing the map on his thigh, Malig pointed. “I reduce this battle to my left versus Harold’s right. Here he thinks he has an advantage in numbers and will seek to exploit it. Your numbers alter the balance.”
“Alter, yes,” the demon leader growled. “Mighty are we. What would you have us do?”
“I would have you move left and attack.” Unrolling a piece of parchment with a faithful representation of Harold’s standard upon it, he continued. “This is the emblem of the force I head toward. I would have you attack there as well.”
Studying the drawing, the demon’s eyes tracked back and forth over the image before they returned to Malig. “We will seek this emblem and kill all who fight under it.”
“Only when I command it,” Malig said.
“But of course. We eagerly await. While we do, we will seek the emblem.”
. . .
The descent of the winged creatures sent a stir across the lines in both armies. Seeing them land behind Malig’s line followed soon after by the exile’s left division falling back to regroup prompted Harold to think the ugly vent in the sky to the north was indeed part of the Cataclysm. If that were the case, he speculated, “We may find ourselves fighting alongside one another.”
The Warder Page 47