by A. C. Cobble
“It’s blinded,” yelled Towaal.
“Attack!” screamed Rhys.
They surged forward. Ben was surprised when out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lady Iyrron sprint ahead of him.
As she raced forward, she placed the butt of her spear into the soft turf and used it to vault into the air, spinning on her side like a top. While flying through the air, she whipped her spear around. With incredible velocity, she brought it down onto the head of the first demon. The creature was still scrambling to its feet but never made it upright.
The blade of the naginata smacked into the beast’s skull, shearing through it. Half the demon’s head flew off to the side while the rest of the body collapsed down to the grass.
Lady Iyrron landed lightly on her feet, naginata held confidently in front of her.
Ben looked away from her as he and his friends waded into the mass of demons. Nearly all of them were still down, struggling to comprehend the force that had sent them flying. They were still dangerous, though, and Ben had to jump over a clawed hand as it lashed out, trying to catch his legs. As he landed, he plunged his blade down into the demon’s chest.
Corinne swung a hand axe into a demon’s head next to him.
He turned and slashed across the neck of another one. Frantically, he hacked his way deeper into the swarm. They had to kill or disable as many of the creatures as possible before the beasts recovered from the wind. If the demons were all standing, Ben wasn’t sure the party could survive facing the entire swarm.
The towering arch-demon had regained its feet and was lashing out blindly. Ben and his friends didn’t go anywhere near it, yet.
It didn’t know that, though, and it was frantically trying to defend itself. One of the smaller demons stumbled close. Claws the length of Ben’s arm smashed into it, tearing the creature’s body in two. Purple blood flew like it was tossed from a bucket. The smaller demon’s torso bowled into one behind it, knocking the second creature to the ground. The strangled wail of the victim didn’t stop the arch-demon from trashing about, seeking Ben’s companions but catching its own minions instead.
Ben snickered and turned to find two of the beasts had made their feet and were closing on him. He stepped to the side, watching as they closed together, fouling each other’s attack path. Then he leapt forward. His longsword stabbed into one of their muscled necks. The second demon reached for him, but Ben edged around the dead body of the first, blocking the second with it.
A howl of frustration was cut short, turning into a screeching gurgle as Ben’s sword thrust into its open mouth.
“Ben!” shouted Amelie, drawing his attention to Corinne, who was scrambling back, trying to defend against three of the creatures.
The huntress had faced more demons than the rest of them combined, but her hand axes didn’t have the reach to provide any real defense. Instead, she relied on quick attacks to finish them before they could strike her. Against three of the demons, she was overmatched. She couldn’t land a fatal blow on one of them without opening herself up to attack by the other two.
Ben jumped over the body of a demon’s corpse then stopped.
Lady Iyrron’s naginata plunged into the back of one of the creatures facing Corinne. She then twisted the haft of her spear and shoved the body of the demon into the path of another.
Corinne saw the opportunity and struck, parrying a clawed hand with one axe and smashing the other axe into the demon’s face.
The two ladies were more than sufficient to finish the remaining demon, so Ben turned to find Rhys crouched, eyeing the arch-demon and eight smaller ones clustered around it. They were communicating somehow and had managed to calm their leader. Its eyes were still squeezed tightly shut, but it was no longer thrashing around wildly.
“Too bad,” remarked Rhys. “That thing was taking out more of them than I was.”
Ben chuckled mirthlessly. Even blinded, the arch-demon was still deadly. With the eight smaller creatures around it, this wasn’t going to be easy.
“You want the big one or the little ones?” asked Rhys.
Ben was about to answer when the eight smaller demons charged forward simultaneously. The arch-demon took a step behind them, advancing as part of a coordinated attack.
There was no time to plan with Rhys, so Ben attacked. If the demons were coordinating, they couldn’t allow themselves to be surrounded or stuck dealing with the smaller ones when the arch-demon could reach them.
Ben ducked under the first claw and drew his blade along the demon’s abdomen. Lurching to the side, he avoided the falling body, but the next creature crashed into him with a heavily muscled shoulder, sending him flying onto his back. He grimaced in pain as a heavy foot stomped down on his arm. Luckily, the demon was moving too fast to stoop and maul him.
It stumbled by, glaring down at him. Its snarling, tooth-filled mouth hung open in hunger.
Ben watched as Amelie’s rapier slid smoothly into that mouth, skewering the beast and sinking steel into its brain.
Beside her, Corinne smashed a hand axe into another demon’s neck.
Ben clambered to his feet, grateful the girls had arrived to help, but not wanting to spend any longer than necessary on the ground in the middle of a fight with a demon swarm.
He got up just in time to meet a creature hurtling toward him. He thrust his sword into its chest and leaned to the side. This time, it didn’t have a companion coming close on its heels. He let the creature’s momentum carry it safely by him.
Lady Iyrron was battling a demon next to him, swinging her naginata for a decapitating stroke, but the demon got an arm up in time to block the fatal blow. The blade of the spear sunk deep into its arm and an animalistic shriek burst from its throat.
Iyrron reversed the direction of her spear and spun it the other way, the butt of the weapon smashing into the side of the demon’s head. Bone cracked as the sturdy wood haft pounded the beast’s skull.
It didn’t stop it.
The demon snarled at her and lashed out with its good arm, catching the haft of the spear. The force of the blow sent the naginata flying from Iyrron’s hands and she stumbled back, falling over, clearly stunned by the demon’s strength.
The demon stepped forward, spittle flying from its open mouth, ready to pounce on the defenseless girl.
Ben arrived just in time, hammering his blade into its back.
The tip of the mage-wrought steel punched through thick muscle and slid out the front of the demon. He kicked a foot up and set it on the demon’s back, shoving the thing off his blade.
Iyrron looked up at Ben in shock. Then her eyes grew even wider.
Sensing danger, Ben hurled himself forward and felt the swish of a powerful blow sail just behind him.
A bestial roar tore through the air as the arch-demon swung in vain, trying to hit anything other than its own demons.
The companions all scrambled back, forming a loose circle around the monster. All of the smaller demons had been dispatched, and Ben’s friends were still standing. So far, so good, thought Ben.
“Any suggestions?” asked Corinne between heavy breaths.
“Bit by bit,” said Ben. “It can’t see us, but it can hear us.”
He stalked closer to the arch-demon and shouted at it. Its head snapped toward him, but he was ready and jumped away as soon as it moved.
Rhys closed behind it and delivered a wicked slash to the back of the demon’s leg.
The big creature pivoted, but the rogue was already scampering away.
Ben danced close and sliced a deep laceration on its arm.
The arch-demon was spinning, flailing wildly, trying to catch Ben or Rhys as they darted in to deliver small but damaging strikes.
One of Corinne’s hand axes flew end over end to smack into the side of its face. Both clawed hands went up to protect its head. Ben and Rhys sprung forward, one longsword stabbing into its abdomen, the other finding its back.
Purple blood streamed down its si
des and the arch-demon wailed in agony. It was slowing, and Ben and Rhys used that to devastating effect, raining blows over and over until the creature was bleeding from two dozen cuts and punctures. It fell to one knee, struggling to rise.
Rhys met Ben’s eyes.
Ben charged from behind and plunged his blade into the arch-demon’s back, burying the weapon halfway to the hilt. It howled and spun on its knee, ripping Ben’s weapon out of his hands. He knelt under its sweeping arm.
Rhys was ready. He strode in and thrust his longsword into the arch-demon’s throat, angling the point of the blade up into its skull. He twisted the blade and yanked it out, an eruption of purple blood following his weapon to splash on the green grass.
With an earth-shaking boom, the creature fell forward on its face, motionless.
Gasping, Lady Iyrron asked, “How many of these things did you say are loose in Alcott?”
“Thousands after the battle of Northport,” answered Amelie quietly. “More are generating every day.”
Iyrron didn’t respond. She leaned on her spear with one hand and clutched a gash on her side with the other.
“Do you need healing again, Lady Iyrron?” asked Amelie.
The girl grimaced. “Call me O’ecca.”
4
Ayd
They took a bell to patch up small, superficial wounds and clean their weapons. After that, it was a quick two-bell walk to the town of Ayd. They needed to gather supplies there and send O’ecca on her way.
Ben had to admit he’d been impressed by the tiny girl’s prowess fighting the demons. She made up for her diminutive stature with exceptional speed. When she attacked, she committed to it fully. It allowed to her strike with more power than should have been possible with her small frame, but it also opened her up to counters when her initial attack wasn’t successful. It was a bold and risky style.
“You’ve saved my life twice,” O’ecca remarked to Ben. She was walking by his side, occasionally decapitating innocent blades of grass with her naginata.
Amelie was on his other side. After the demons, the girls seemed to have dropped any animosity toward each other.
“I was in the right place at the right time,” responded Ben.
“With the right skills,” added O’ecca. “Where did you learn to fight like that?”
Ben shrugged. “Good teachers and experience, I guess. We’ve been traveling a lot in the last year. I’ve picked up a little bit from a lot of people.”
“You use forms I’ve never seen before, but some that are quite familiar,” commented O’ecca. “My father has a blademaster in his employ. There are several others that come close. Well, there were several others before Indo. They taught me what I know. You fight like one of Ooswam’s blademasters. With an added layer, I would say. An extra viciousness.”
Ben kept walking. He was startled at how easily the girl was able to assess his skill. She was right, of course. Saala had been his first tutor. After learning from Saala, Ben had added nasty little tricks from Rhys, Jasper, and even Black Bart.
“Have you trained with a blademaster from Ooswam?” asked the girl directly.
Ben glanced at Amelie out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t want to admit he knew Saala.
“She already knows about Towaal,” mentioned Amelie. “There’s nothing more Eldred or her henchmen need to know to find us.”
Ben looked back to O’ecca. “You know by now we are being tracked by someone, someone who knows us well enough to trace any word or even rumor of us.”
O’ecca frowned. “I’ve seen you all fight, and you have a mage with you. You are still afraid of this person?”
Ben nodded.
“Then I must tell my father,” stated the slender lady.
“I think its best you do not,” suggested Ben. “Our hunter has no interest in the South Continent, only in finding us. I believe if she passes through your lands, she will do so without causing disruption. You will probably never know she was there. If challenged though, she is exceptionally dangerous.”
“She is a mage?” queried O’ecca.
“She is,” Ben affirmed. “One a great deal more powerful than Lady Towaal. Believe me. You do not want to anger her.”
O’ecca frowned. “For now, I will keep your secrets about the mages. No one is likely to believe it anyway, but a blademaster from Ooswam is not part of that. Tell me, who trained you?”
“Saala Ishaam,” answered Ben.
The girl stumbled and Ben caught her arm. She stared at him.
“You know Saala Ishaam?” she demanded.
Ben frowned, unsure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“I know him,” he confirmed. “I take it you do as well?”
“I know of him,” answered O’ecca quickly. “I was just a girl when his family disowned him.”
Ben looked at Amelie again. Her lips were pursed in thought.
“His family disowned him?” she asked hesitantly.
O’ecca nodded. “Did he not tell you? It was not a secret in Ooswam.”
Ben shook his head. “I gathered there was some sort of falling out, but he never told me the details. He’s a rather quiet fellow when not giving advice about handling a sword. I never probed too deeply into his past.”
“It’s best for a student to not question his master,” agreed O’ecca. “Saala Ishaam’s story is well known here, but I am not sure it is my place to tell it.”
“I did save your life twice,” chided Ben. “I also told you who trained me in good faith.”
“Very well,” O’ecca acquiesced. “Some time ago, maybe fifteen years, the trouble started. Saala was the first son of Lord Syo Ishaam, the Ram Lord as some call him.”
“Why do they call him that?” wondered Ben.
“He has a helmet with ram horns attached,” answered O’ecca.
Ben waited for more, but apparently, that was it.
“Anyway,” she continued, “the Ram Lord at the time was the fourth most powerful lord in Ooswam. For years, he had been building on his own father’s legacy to grow that power. Their House held nearly unlimited timberland, which was harvested to build an unsurpassed fishing fleet. The other lords called him a fool, as fishing was the work of peasants, but the Ram Lord proved them all wrong. At one point, my history tutor estimated that two thirds of the fish consumed in Ooswam were brought in by the Ram Lord’s fleet. He used that revenue to buy beef cattle, pigs, and ostriches. These animals are common here, but many cities became reliant on the scale of the Ram Lord’s supplies. He spread wealth and abundance around his lands and the people thrived. They started businesses and brought even more economic activity into the prefecture, which, of course, the lord then earned taxes on. It became apparent that within decades, the House of Ishaam may control nearly as much wealth as the emperor.”
Ben thought back to Saala’s lectures about politics. He wished he could recall more of the blademaster’s words, but he had a new appreciation for Saala’s description of a lord’s ability to win the trust of the people. O’ecca’s tale was starting to sound familiar.
“The neighbors grew jealous,” stated O’ecca, “but none would dare make a move. Even with superior military might, they knew they couldn’t field an army without food from the Ram Lord. No army will march far on empty bellies, as the war-masters say.”
Amelie bumped against Ben and raised an eyebrow when he met her look. Ben knew Saala had come from a wealthy family, but this was beyond what he’d imagined.
Lady Iyrron kept speaking, caught up her in own story. “Saala, from what I’m told, grew up like any child of a powerful lord. He studied poetry, painting, and music, as we all do. The sword is where he excelled. He was a blademaster by his twenty-second summer.”
“You know a lot about him,” remarked Amelie.
Ben smirked. He knew she was thinking about the years she’d known the man. Ben suspected Saala had told her none of this. Her certainly hadn’t told Ben.
O’
ecca nodded, oblivious to the subtext of Amelie’s comment. “He became rather notorious for what happened next. Any member of an established House in Ooswam knows the story. These days, it’s told as a caution to ambitious younglings.”
Ben frowned.
O’ecca shifted her naginata to the other shoulder. “It was expected that by the time leadership of the House of Ishaam passed to Saala, it could be the third most powerful family in Ooswam. They would only be surpassed by the House of Vinn and the emperor. Apparently, that wasn’t enough. Saala, perhaps fearful of the neighboring lord’s intentions or perhaps simply overly ambitious, started to build his own power base. He sought out the greatest swordsmen in Ooswam and began to bring them under his banner. It wasn’t an army in the traditional sense. There weren’t more than a dozen at first, but they had the skills to sway a battle.”
“One thing you should understand about Ooswam,” explained O’ecca. “The lords constantly test each other’s boundaries, probing for territory. Border skirmishes are frequent, but pitched battles like you saw in Indo are rare. At least, they used to be. A few arrows may be fired at a passing patrol, a scuffle in a neutral tavern that occasionally ends in a stabbing, an assassin strikes a family member. From time to time, there might be a raid, but only with the intent of setting a few fires and scaring people away. It’s incremental jostling for territory and hasn’t broken out in open war for over a century.”
“At first,” she continued, “Saala and his cohort were like any other band of talented lordlings. They protected their family’s territory, and no one thought it strange they did so with a little more viciousness than was strictly necessary. After all, some violence between the Houses isn’t uncommon. Over time, Saala’s men became exceptionally effective, and their brutality grew as well. When they raided, they would seek blood. When they encountered a patrol, they didn’t fire an arrow and ride away, they attacked and pursued their opponents until they were dead or captured. Many fell under the swords of Saala’s band. On a small scale, his men were ruthless, and no one could compete with them.”