Out of Nowhere

by William Cali

  “Hope he’s got some for all of us.”

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  “Pitiful worms. Such a worthless attempt at stopping us!” Yozer was beside himself with fury.

  Ricard had called out that there was a man in a tree far ahead, but Yozer hadn’t been able to spot him. It was a mystifying idea to him. Who would sleep in a tree?

  Ricard sent for an archer to post up by his side and had everyone hold their position. True to Ricard’s claim, a man descended from the tree. The archer sent a volley, and Ricard ordered his horsemen to charge the stranger. The arrows missed their mark, and in short order, the horsemen were stalled by the mysterious bowman’s counterattack. He rolled onto the path, meddling with something in the bushes.

  Yozer’s face flared red. “You sit in fear of one man? Charge him, you cowards!” Ricard relayed the order to his troops, and they dashed forward as one. The remaining archers joined the first and released another volley into the sky. But it was all too late. The man had disappeared somewhere into the forest.

  “Hold! Hold!” Ricard shouted the orders to the charging horsemen. A huge fire had sprouted up on the path, blocking their approach. He was desperate to find the villager who had laid the trap but had to abandon his search as the fire blazed.

  The bush was laid out in a way that fed the fire immediately. The flames were gorged by the plant life on the path. Dense, black smoke clouded the air, and the fire raced towards them, consuming the undergrowth on both sides of the path.

  Ricard turned to Master Yozer, pointed wildly at the flames. “A devious trap! If we stay here, we risk being burned alive, and there is no place for our foot soldiers to retreat to. For us to fall back we risk trampling them to death.”

  “Then don’t fall back you fool! Rush forward!” Yozer raised his hands into the air and whipped them around. He flailed about, pointing his hands, fingers first, at the path ahead. A chilling breeze rolled through, forcing Ricard’s cape to fly around over his head, obstructing his vision. A gust of frosty wind shot past the captain, almost knocking him off his horse. It blew through the flames ahead of them, extinguishing the fire. Yozer’s face was twisted with rage.

  “GO! YOU DAMNED COWARDS!”

  Ricard was shocked, but he saw the opportunity as it was. “Go men! For those on foot, run as if your life depends on it. Because it most assuredly does!” They rushed ahead through the flames which blazed on both sides of them. The path, however, was clear, and their goal in sight. Ricard glanced back for a moment and met Yozer’s glance. Despite the chaos about them, he was enthralled by the power he had witnessed. What have I gotten caught up in? Gilbrand, if only you were here.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Pent wiped at his forehead, and his hand came back coated with sweat.

  The world was calm and unaware of the impending battle. The trees rustled, birds chirped. A sound broke through the calm. There was a jostling of armor mixed with the harsh rustle of branches. A horse whinnied, scattering birds from the treetops into the air.

  He saw the approaching army for the first time.

  “Damn.”

  That’s all he could say. They were an intimidating group of men, clad in armor, set on their horses in a tidy row. They carried themselves as if they were the spokesmen for Hell itself, their faces made of stone. Pent scanned through the mass of tempered steel and horse hair.

  He tapped Faldo’s shoulder and whispered, “That’s the guy in charge, right? Dude with the cape?” But it was the man next to the caped soldier that held Pent’s attention. He was pale and hairless, wearing nothing but a black cloak. The soldiers he led marched with a killing intent, their eyes glazed over. They swayed like they were drunk. Drunk with rage. They look like they need an outlet to let all that rage out. I guess that’s what we’re here for.

  “That must be Yozer.” Yozer didn’t look the same as his friends at all. If they were drunk, he was stone-cold sober. He was poised and in control. He met Pent’s glance, and their eyes locked. Those white orbs pierced into him, and Pent felt his whole body shudder as the pale-faced man’s lips curled up into a twisted grimace. Is that supposed to be a smile?

  Faldo whispered back, “I can barely look in his direction. It feels like I’m going mad just looking at his eyes.”

  Pent nodded, understanding exactly what he meant but not being able to put it to words. “Do you see Gilbrand? Would have thought he would be out in front.”

  The horses were getting closer now. Pent could hear their hooves slapping the ground, kicking dust into the air.

  The cloaked man leaned over to the leader of the troops and whispered something into his ear. The leader shouted out, “Everyone hold!”

  They stopped all at once. Pent knew that Somerville’s ragtag army wasn’t anywhere on that level of discipline. Hopefully, they had gotten close enough. The man, Pent was certain it was Yozer, called out to them.

  “Villagers of Somerville! Do you know who I am?” He glanced at the ground and cackled madly. “Of course you do. I am the harbinger of your destruction.”

  He studied the crowd, the fortifications, the ground in front of his horse. “It appears you have been preparing for our brand of justice. Nothing I see will save you. You have done a horrible thing, to slay a noble lord such as Gilbrand. We are here to take our vengeance. You will all pay for this treachery.” He waved his arm over his soldiers. “I’ve heard talk of some kind of mystery warrior. Gilbrand was felled by a large, sun-darkened man. Step forward, coward, and reveal yourself.”

  Pent felt his face flush with anger. “How about you get your eyes checked, I already know I stick out like a sore thumb here. My name is Pent, and if I was a coward, why would I be standing here before you now?” The villagers let out a cheer, bolstering Pent’s courage. “We’re all here to stand and fight for their… for our home. And for the record, I didn’t kill Gilbrand. I booted him out of here with his tail between his legs, but he left in one piece.”

  “We will not hear your lies!” Yozer howled. “Prepare to die, you fools!”

  Ricard looked contemplative for a moment, as if he was about to speak, maybe to question what Pent said. Maybe to question the circumstances that brought them to this point. Maybe to ask how Gilbrand came to his death. All of these thoughts ran through Ricard’s mind, but he stole one look at Yozer, and in those eyes, he saw a burning desire. Those two glowing orbs demanded that he push his concerns aside and move forward. He shouted his command at the top of his lungs:

  “ATTACK!”

  The front line of riders dashed towards the entrance. Pent and his men braced themselves, shields drawn forward, swords at the ready. The riders that remained behind had repositioned into two lines. The Captain took up a place at the front of the left. Yozer hadn’t moved from his spot, seeming almost bored with the events taking place all around him. Soldiers and horses shifted at his feet, while his eyes remained glued on Pent’s.

  Pent had no idea what he was looking for. It felt like those eyes were probing his mind, looking for secrets. Pent tried to not think of the traps they had laid in advance. But if Yozer had mind-reading powers, he wasn’t interested in sharing his findings with his soldiers.

  The traps were sprung within seconds as one of the soldiers made contact with a camouflaged hole. He was flung off his horse, his head colliding at high speed with the ground. Pent saw some of the villagers grimace at the sound of the soldier’s neck breaking.

  Another two men met similar fates. One fell directly into a spiked hole; the wooden spear pierced through his chest, leaving him on the ground screaming for help. The second was flung over his horse’s reins and dragged several yards. The horse reared back, slamming its hooves into the soldier’s face, killing him instantly.

  “They have laid traps on the field!” Captain Ricard roared. “Heed their treachery and redouble your efforts!” He raised his sword, and another six men charged on horseback. He waved to the foot soldiers, who began a slow approach into the fray
. “Break through their defense!”

  The first three men had nearly made it to the front line. Faldo uttered a barely audible “Wait.” The villagers complied. One of the men fell into the trench Faldo’s men had laid out earlier, their largest trap. Horse and rider were both skewered. The other two vaulted the trench and were nearly in range.

  “NOW!” Pent reached down and felt men on his right and left do the same. They pulled up the wooden lances and aimed them forward. Pent caught the horror dawning on one horseman’s eyes as he ran his horse straight through the sharpened spear. The second rider was just as unlucky.

  Ricard yelled out a wordless shout, and the remaining horsemen broke off to the sides, one of them falling victim to another trap hole. Gilbrand’s men seemed to understand the play Ricard was making. Horsemen would be of no use against those spears, and the traps made a blind charge too dangerous. This would be on the footmen to break the line open.

  Yozer cackled, and the villagers trembled despite their success. He turned to Ricard, the first time he had moved since the battle had begun. “They’re making you out to be quite the fool, Ricard! Is this all you can do?”

  “My lord, this was but a minor setback,” Ricard grumbled. “These peasants will do little else to halt our efforts.” Ricard himself began to approach slowly, with his two flanking sets of horsemen joining him.

  The foot soldiers were marching in. Pent watched them and thought that they were almost frothing at the mouth with the desire to wet their blades. They were closing the gap. Almost at the trench now. About half of them made it over, the other half were still behind, waiting their turn to jump.

  Pent and the others drew their swords and prepared to move forward. Faldo looked at him and nodded.

  Pent’s arm went up in the air. The men on the fortifications rose up. Three men on each, the chief himself standing up high on the left fortification. They raised the firebombs into the air, wicks aflame, and threw them at the approaching soldiers.

  The field erupted into chaos with the sound of roaring flames and the screams of men. The chief’s cocktail landed right at the base of the trench, knocking several men to the ground. Some tumbled down onto the spikes in a desperate attempt to douse the flames. Burning fuel spread everywhere, horrifying the men and horses alike. In his terror, one soldier ran another through as he spun away from the flames. Horses threw their riders or crushed footmen under panicked hooves. The firebombs had worked perfectly.

  “S… sorcery!” one of the soldiers screamed, turning to flee, but he ran right into the scowling Ricard.

  “If you retreat one step further, I’ll run you through myself. Move forward, you coward!”

  Pent was grinning ear to ear. Their second approach had been shattered. The foot soldiers were in disarray, with only about a dozen men left not on horseback. There’s more of us standing than there are soldiers. We might actually pull this off.

  The villagers up high on the fortifications were drawing their bottles back for another shelling. Despite this, Yozer was smiling. “Interesting, very interesting.” He drew his hands forward, the palms open. “But I have no respect for pretenders…”

  Pent watched in awe and horror as Yozer drew electricity from nowhere, conjuring it in the space between his two hands. He clenched his fists, aiming them at the fortification on the right, and a bolt of lightning shot through the air, forcing Pent’s hair to stand on end.

  Pent blinked, closing his eyes for only an instant. When he opened them, the fortification was going up in flames. Another bolt smashed through it, annihilating Faldo’s handiwork. The villagers on top were thrown into the air like rag dolls. One fell directly into the bonfire set up for their cocktails, another into the trench and was killed instantly.

  The third villager fell to his knees barely a foot away from Ricard. His knee bones gave in an audible crunch, and he cried out but was forever silenced as Ricard’s sword pierced through his throat.

  The chief cried out in horror, powerless to help his people. Next to him, a villager rose with a bow in hand. He drew back an arrow, notched and aimed at Yozer’s heart, and then let it fly. The arrow bounced off nothingness, colliding with an unseen force. Yozer doubled over in laughter and then beckoned his horse to approach the front line.

  Ricard called to the horsemen that remained, directing a charge through the space where the felled fortification once stood. A dozen soldiers on horseback quickly swarmed into town. The remaining foot soldiers had recovered their courage and were approaching from the front.

  “Damn! They’ll surround us!” Faldo shouted through clenched teeth as he gripped his sword.

  “Spread out everyone, like we practiced. Stay with your men!” Pent shuffled to the side, two villagers flanking him. Faldo did the same. The villagers spread out in groups of three. They hunkered down for the battle ahead. Pent tried to take stock of the situation, but the field had descended into chaos.

  A set of villagers circled one of the bonfires, using it to light their grenades. They threw grenades until they had no more.

  A single foot soldier attempted to scale the remaining fortification. Upon reaching the top, he brought his sword down on someone. Pent couldn’t see if it was the chief or another villager, but the soldier didn’t get the chance to swing again. He was thrown screaming off the tower to his death.

  Ricard marched forward, killing the two men who dared to approach him.

  Four more horsemen were killed by villagers who had taken up the abandoned spears, but many of the villagers had scattered, attempting to avoid being run down by the remaining horsemen.

  The scattered villagers clashed with foot soldiers. Considering their inferior armor and experience, they were quickly felled.

  Faldo swung wildly at a man whose attention was drawn elsewhere. He missed, and almost fell onto his own sword. The soldier turned to counter, but their attack was deflected by one of Faldo’s squad.

  Yozer continued to laugh as he dismounted his horse.

  Cenk caved a man’s head in with his hammer. A horseman attempted to charge him, but Cenk swung his hammer like a club and shattered two of the horse’s legs. The soldier was flung from the horse, and Cenk flattened him into the ground before he could regain his composure.

  The chief had thrown his whole stock of firebombs, so he took up his fallen comrade’s bow and gave his best efforts, but he wasn’t strong enough to fully pull the string. Quivering with exhaustion, he slowly lay down on the tower platform, unseen from the rest of the battle.

  Mother Lyle flung a cocktail at Ricard. The throw was true, but another horseman ran in front of her line of sight and took the flaming explosion head on. In her shocked state, she failed to react as a foot soldier ran up to her and slashed her across the arm, knocking her down. The soldier pulled back his arm to deliver the killing blow, but another blade crashed down on his shoulder, dropping him. Lyle rolled over on top of the groaning man, knocking his blade aside and stabbing down into his neck. She looked up to say something to her rescuer, but Lemen had already moved on.

  Lemen swung his sword with great abandon and managed to knock three men off their horses. They were taken out by other villagers, and Lemen found himself face to face with Ricard.

  “You’re not welcome here! This is our home, you scoundrel!” Lemen flung his sword at the captain. It flew below the mark, and landed square between his horse’s eyes, killing the beast instantly.

  Ricard grunted as he tumbled to the ground. He rose to his feet in an instant. Lemen dashed forward, attempting to retrieve his sword, but he was a step too slow. Ricard stabbed him in the stomach, impaling him.

  “Die, fool.” Ricard shoved the distiller back and flicked the blood from his blade, already looking for his next target.

  “Lemen!” Pent cried out. Lemen fell, blood spurting from his open wound, his eyes glazed over from shock. His head rolled back and went limp. Pent ran forward, abandoning his two men. “You bastard!”

  He clashed swords
with Ricard. Pent felt the pressure instantly as Ricard met his attack with ease. Pent spared a single glance over his shoulder to see if anyone was approaching from behind. There was no one else. It was just the two of them dueling in the dust.

  A missed stab. A counter. A feint. Ricard swung expertly, nearly hitting the mark several times. Pent felt himself relying on his footwork again, a sick feeling lingered in his stomach as he recalled his fight with Gilbrand.

  He thought back to that fight, and how he was outmatched. Not that much had changed since then in terms of his sword skills. Well, if it worked once…

  He slammed his sword into Ricard’s, knocking it back. He then charged into the captain, his shoulder pointed forward. The metallic pads hammered into the captain’s chest. Ricard’s eyes widened as the air rushed from his lungs, and he stumbled backward. Unlike Gilbrand, Ricard was not knocked down. The shorter man was much more nimble, and perhaps not as arrogant.

  But it was still enough to take him off his guard. He clutched at his chest and stared at Pent with wonder. “Wha—” His words were cut off as Faldo appeared from his left and deftly stabbed into the joint under his arm. The captain cried out in pain, his sword slipping from spasming fingers.

  He fell to his knees, clutching at the sword with his unhurt hand in a desperate attempt to defend himself. It was too late. Faldo was already on him, driving his sword into the back of the man’s neck. He slouched down, eyes rolling back in his head, blood gurgling up with his last breaths.

  With the death of their leader, the few remaining soldiers were scattered and broken. The handful of men that were left fled into the graveyard. Faldo led the chase, his sword held above his shoulders, yelling like a Viking berserker.

  Pent moved to join him, taking only two steps forward, and then paused. He turned and saw Yozer approaching. His eyes were closed, and he appeared to be chanting something. One of the men who made up Pent’s flank charged at him. Like the arrow, his sword clanged hopelessly against that familiar unseen force. Realization dawned on Pent. That’s just like Gordenthorpe’s shield thing.