Chapter Twenty-Three
The Usurper War
The sun set at their backs and the pioneers on the roof of the fort watched the tall crystal towers lumbering through the forest, shining like blood as night fell. The footsteps of the great beast shook the walls down below. The dogmen of the tribes of Asher and Nook gathered behind the wall and along its spiked top, armed with swords, with axes, with long spears. They swallowed their fear and their lips pulled back from their fangs as they prepared to dance in Hell.
Yarek had healed since his battle to take control of the tribe of Asher, but he was hungry and tired and he knew that everyone else was as well. On the rooftop of the fort he glared through his binoculars. He could hear his dogs sharpening steel and humming the war songs of their people.
“Whatever that thing is,” said Yarek, “they’re going to send it through the walls and pour in after it.”
Blond Magog grunted beside him. “A frontal assault. The demons only have the balls to do that because they’re sending our own people against us as cannon fodder.”
Yarek lowered his binoculars and looked down onto the grounds of the fort. The walls were covered with armed dogmen, and behind them, near the fort, he could see nearly as many men and women armed with longbows in hand and arrows jammed into the ground before them. As soon as his eyes fell on her, Amiza turned her black-and-white painted face up to him. She raised her fist, and Yarek did the same.
“Are your people ready?” Yarek shouted down to her.
“I would have already fled if they were not ready,” she answered. Yarek wondered if she’d said that for his benefit, or for theirs.
Yarek nodded. “I’ll have Zachariah on the wall acting as your spotter. He’ll be giving you ranges and directions. Where is he?”
Just then the front door of the fort opened. Looking down, Yarek saw Zach and Maena and Jarl rolling barrels from the fort and making their way toward the dogmen on the wall. “Everyone!” Zach shouted. “Take one big drink and pass it on!”
Yarek shook his head. He could hear Magog chuckling at his side. It looked like Zach was exchanging brief words with the dogmen gathering around to drink their last, and Magog said, “This is the part where Jarl the storyteller will probably record that the young lord Zachariah stood tall and gave a fiery speech to the warriors along the wall.”
“Let’s just make sure Jarl lives long enough to make up a bunch of bullshit about this mess we’re in, then,” said Yarek, turning to the others. “Alright, listen up everyone. We’ve got no radios for this fight, so we’ll have to go down to the walls and give it everything we’ve got – and make sure that nobody gives up before it’s over.” Magog nodded quickly, and Naarwulf drew himself up to his full height. “Chris, you stay up here and do your magic. You don’t have a lot of ammo left, so take your time and pick off important targets.”
Chris Kenny finished assembling the Hargis sniper rifle in his hands, then said, “Sure thing Chief.”
* * *
Across the clearing littered with the stumps of trees, at the edge of the dark forest, a lone blue reptilian devil poked its bulbous head out. The same demon that had watched the fort and sent information concerning all activity so that the invaders could be hounded at every turn blinked its large eyes as it watched the fires along the wall. It saw the heads of dogmen and the flash of reflected light along their weapons. Its skinny neck bulged, then gave vent to a low, croaking note. Then it hissed, harsh and shrill, and thousands of ghouls and traitorous dogmen rushed from the woods and charged the clearing.
They soon filled the clearing, already outnumbering the defenders of the fort even as more of them spilled out from the woods. The dogmen were mad, ravening, filled with the power of their unholy ghost and its promises of glory, but the ghouls beside them were cold, their eyes dead, their scabrous hands gripping weapons stolen from the northern mines. A fighter on the wall cried out, “Fire! Fire!” and the jury-rigged cannons and machineguns at the base of the walls opened up, drilling the front lines. The massive cannons plowed through the ranks, churning dog soldiers into meat. The defenders at the wall rushed to secure and re-secure the untested weapons, some even tipping over completely even as they were reloaded. Still the attackers came on, mindless and screaming, eyeballs shaking in their skulls as they drew nearer.
“Loose!” cried Zach, drunk on top of the wall. “Loose!” Amiza heard the cry, echoed it, and the archers notched arrows and pulled their bows taut, aimed them high, and let loose a great volley of steel-tipped arrows. Wooden shafts rained down on the attackers, steel bit skull and shoulder and neck and ran through, felling the attackers so that they were trampled by those in behind.
Then the massive crystal demon broke through the forest, a many-limbed monstrosity that passed over the clearing with a few long, lumbering steps. The dogmen defending the wall barked wildly at the sight of the thing glowing in the field. Its back was covered in ghouls, hissing and writhing like maggots, and at the front of the thing, perched on its wide head, stood the one-eyed scarlet reptilian devil, aching for vengeance.
Chris Kenny fingered his few rounds, kissed each one quickly, then loaded the rifle and took aim at the eyes of the crystalline beast. He fired, and while he was sure that he’d struck something, there was no reaction from the monster. He ejected the spent shell, aimed again, fired - but the round bounced off the crystal shell on the thing’s head. He did not know that the thing was nearly blind anyway, and was receiving directions from devils with clearer eyes. The lumbering beast was meant only to plow down the walls and trample the fort’s defenders - and with a sickening shiver in his gut, Chris realized the monster was about to do just that.
* * *
Wodan hooked one arm onto cold grass and hauled his head over the edge. With his other hand he grasped the Sword of the Ancients, though its weight threatened to pull him back into the hole. He threw his eyes about and saw the tree. A host of glowing bugs sat on the leaves, which had curled in upon themselves. Then Wodan saw the Chess Bear.
The beast did not look happy. Dozens of dead ghouls laid about the great bear. It narrowed its eyes at Wodan, then lumbered over to stand above him.
“Chess Bear!” said Wodan. “Help me! I don’t think we have much time.”
But the Chess Bear looked down on him and did not move. It knew, in its heart, that change had come to the valley. Whether demonic or human – it made no difference. Wodan would be the death of him. The old ways were fading, and the lord of the forest felt his time running out as well. The Chess Bear raised a paw and, holding back only slightly because of their friendship, he slapped Wodan on the head with a blow hard enough to kill a normal man.
Wodan slipped and fell back with his head ringing, but he kept his hold. “Damn it, Bear!” he hissed, spittle flying from his lips. “I’m not the one you should worry about! Those ghouls who attacked you, and their overlord - that’s the real enemy!”
The Chess Bear, torn between friendship and the merciless economy of nature, lashed out once more, but slower than before. Wodan grabbed onto the paw even as it smacked him again - then, as the Chess Bear pulled back to free its paw, it pulled Wodan from the earth and tossed him to the cool ground.
Wodan rolled about in the grass until he could gather his senses. He freed his vicelike grip from the hilt of the sword and massaged his hand. He was tired and famished, but forced himself up and grasped the sword once more. He was shocked to find that it was simply too heavy to lift.
“This thing... it can’t be worthless!” he gasped. He put both hands around its hilt and lifted it slowly, shaking under the terrible weight.
The glowing bugs of the tree responded to the blade of the forest. As Wodan held it overhead it ate the light they shed, then responded with an overpowering green glow of its own. Wodan was filled with renewed strength, the energy of desperation: Either the sword was somehow becoming lighter in his hands, or the light it ate was feeding into his own body. It became as light as air a
nd as powerful as a sun.
The Chess Bear growled, confused and angry.
Wodan, filthy and ragged, barely able to catch his breath from his days-long exertion, lowered the sword and pointed it at the Chess Bear. “You’ve done enough, old friend. My friends need help, and if you won’t help, then go. Go home, and leave me be.”
Wodan turned and ran. He knew exactly which way to go, for he could hear the din and rage of battle in the distance. He tore through the woods, his soreness forgotten as adrenaline and light-energy surged through his body.
Then the Chess Bear ran beside him, loping along easily, passing Wodan only to stare back at him.
“I said go away, Bear!” Wodan shouted. “This is my fight! I don’t have time to get eaten by some kind of-”
The great claws of the bear lashed out, and before Wodan could react he was surrounded by fur and muscle. The musk of the bear clogged his nostrils, and his feet left the ground. Wodan cried in frustration – and then found himself on top of the Chess Bear. He held onto its fur with one hand, and the beast surged underneath him, throwing them through the woods faster than Wodan could have hoped to move on his own. Leaves and branches whizzed past, and the glowing bugs of the great tree surrounded them and perched along Wodan’s arm and the flanks of the bear. Wodan held the sword aloft and its light shone throughout the trees, a beacon of green fire.
* * *
As soon as the guns along the wall ran out of ammunition, Jago dashed ahead of the horde, elbowing others aside to be the first to make a kill. His cells burned so hot that he had to scream until his throat went raw. He barely noticed when arrows rained all around, felling his so-called brothers. Nothing could stop him.
The wall towered over him. He leaped farther than any normal human could, and as soon as he latched onto a chink between the wood, he felt other dogs landing beside him. They grasped the sides, bellowing and hauling themselves up. Enemy dogmen with long spears stabbed all around them, barking and spitting. Jago saw but did not feel one spear run along his shoulder and back. When another spearpoint shook near his face he swung Usurper in his free hand and sliced it in half.
The press of bodies was too great to haul himself over the edge, so he swung Usurper left and right to cleave a path through hairy limbs. His ears were filled with a congealed mass of notes, endless barking and screaming. Blood spattered onto his face and eyes and when the hilt became slippery in his hand he realized that he’d killed or dismembered several dogmen who’d stood before him.
He prepared to vault over the side. Just then he saw a human with a spear running along the wall toward him, and realized that it was the upstart Hargis whelp. Jago drew back Usurper, delighting in the fact that he would kill the little man with his own weapon. Zach shouted and jammed the spear forward - then the entire wall rocked violently, threatening to fall to pieces. Zach missed and Jago swung the sword, tearing the sharp edge through cloth and skin along Zach’s chest and arm, then lost his grip as the wall shook and they both fell over either side.
Jago felt nothing when he hit the ground, but paused to catch his breath. Finally he rose and saw the massive crystal demon tearing through a long section of wall. The beast moved slowly, very slowly, but the wall splintered and fell to pieces all around its thick limbs. Dogmen and ghouls poured through the opening. Already drunk on the blood he’d spilled, Jago lifted the Usurper sword high and ran full tilt toward the opening in the wall, vowing to himself that he would lay claim to his own kingdom or die in the attempt.
* * *
The crystal demon bowed its head and a host of green reptilian stormtroopers tumbled forth with a hundred or more ghouls. Just as Naarwulf and his brothers from the tribe of Nook ran to meet them, more attackers poured in through the gaping hole in the wall. A corpse fell from the wall and crashed near his feet, and without pausing Naarwulf grabbed the dead defender’s axe and leaped among the attackers, swinging and bellowing.
Yarek, armed with two short-swords and with his Reavers and guard dogs behind him, ran to assist. The press was terrible at the focal-point as the defenders tried to drive the attackers back through the shattered wall while more pressed in from behind. Yarek could only tell which dogman was friend or foe by allowing the other to attack first, which kept him at a constant disadvantage. Over and over he blocked an assault with one sword and then stabbed at throat, eyes, or mouth with the other sword until his hands were slick with black syrup. The reddish-pink glow of the crystal demon reflected torchlight; he was blinded only for an instant and two enemy dogmen were upon him. One attacker thrust a spear toward him; Yarek turned to evade the blow, but the spear ended up between his vest and back, slicing his ribs and throwing him off balance. He slipped on a body and fell onto his side as the second dogman raised an axe to finish him.
Just then, Magog leaped overhead, beheading the axe man and kicking over the standing corpse even as he jammed his enormous sword through the nose of the spear-dog and sheathed it in the back of his head.
Before Yarek could stumble back onto his feet, Magog was already gone, swinging on all sides like a whirlwind. The last and best of his people! thought Yarek. Damn, can he fight!
A Reaver ran to Yarek, grasped his shoulder, and pointed behind. Yarek turned and saw the great red reptile and a gang of ghouls running toward the fort, unnoticed by the defenders on the wall. Several ghouls clutched torches taken from the wall.
“Sir!” shouted the Reaver. “All the sick and wounded are in there!”
Yarek’s guard dogs formed a ring around him. “You Reavers!” he shouted. “Find a way to bring down that glass monster! You dogs, follow me!” Yarek turned back to the fort with his dogmen in tow just as the red lizard disappeared inside. Magog ran beside him.
“No, Magog!” Yarek shouted. “I need you on the field!”
“Magog doesn’t take orders from Asher!” said Magog, spitting out someone’s blood that had caked in his mouth.
Together they rushed toward the wooden fort. Arrows hissed overhead and the shrieking of mass butchery carried on behind them.
* * *
Wodan could hear the terrible clamor just ahead, an awful sound like the forest screaming in agony. He crouched on Chess Bear’s back as the branches snapped all around them. The great bear pushed himself harder still, then they broke through leaves onto a clear grassy rise and, without hesitating, the Chess Bear leaped into open sky as the ground disappeared beneath them. The bear spread its limbs out, its long hair whipped about, and Wodan’s guts bunched up in his throat as they seemed to hang in the air. He could see the battlefield spread out beneath them, a host of ghouls and dogmen on all sides drawn like moths to the flame of the burning fort. As they fell, the stench of the battle was overwhelming, like shit and hatred clogged up in the pores of the world’s tortured flesh. In the distance, Wodan saw the wall sagging and shaking as part of it was crushed under the weight of the massive crystal demon. Wodan read the scene in one drawn-out moment, then gravity took hold, all thought and all fear disappeared, his body took over, and as they fell toward the ghouls Wodan lifted himself off the bear and cast himself into the air.
Wodan and Chess Bear crashed down among the horde of ghouls, sending them and their spears flying around on all sides. Wodan rolled as he hit the ground, then sprang up. He was completely surrounded by dead eyes, pale faces, cruel mouths - so he swung green-shining Capricornus all around, moving faster than he ever had before, his body alive in every cell and burning as bright as the sword. No weapon could touch him. It seemed to him that the ghouls were slogging through thick soup, and the press of bodies was so great that new victims were pushed toward him with every kill he made. Capricornus caught the lights from the fort and burned even brighter, sending power raging through Wodan’s blood. His strokes were so wild and furious that eventually a stream of gore was flung out all around him, then a tidal wave of body parts were flung at his enemies. While the great sword felt as light as air to him, to his enemies it crashed through bone
s like a thousand tons of falling weight.
He could hear Chess Bear rage as well. He whirled and slammed his claws down, tossing ghouls and dogmen a dozen at a time. Spears jammed into his sides, but became hung up in the thick hair at his flanks, and if the spearmen tried to hold on to their weapons they were thrown into the air as the great bear turned and swung. A gang of dogmen ran at him and he charged into them head-on, catching two fighters in his mouth as he trampled the others. Blood flowed down his cheeks as he cast the dead meat skyward, then gave vent to a howl that terrified and deafened his enemies.
Within minutes Wodan stood on a pile of the dead, climbing even as he swung. Ghouls fell all around, then dogmen threw themselves at him only to be cast down in halves or quarters by the green life-taker, then powerful green reptilian stormtroopers charged at him only to have their scales shattered, their brains and eyeballs sent out in a spray, their intestines thrown back in great heaps. Wild with mania, Wodan tore through them all.
Wodan paused for half a moment atop the pile of jerking corpses, a river of blood running from its base, his body bulging and streaming, and he saw the crystal demon in the distance. As more attackers charged up the pile of the dead, Wodan leaped away from them and landed among the fray. The green sword hummed in his hands as he cut a blood-red line toward the fort, back to his people.
* * *
As soon as Yarek burst into the fort, smoke stung his eyes and the cries of panicking wounded stabbed into his ears. He and Magog and the other dogmen charged up the stairway to the second floor - and there, at the end of a long hallway drenched in smoke, they saw the blood-red reptile sparkling in the flame-light as the ghouls danced about with their torches. The single eye of the monster burned into Yarek’s soul, shining with something older than hatred.
Demonworld Book 5: Lords of the Black Valley (Demonworld series) Page 34