The Hammer and the Blade

by Paul S. Kemp

  "Aye."

  Egil leaned in close and whispered, "I don't have the stomach to fight the worm today. I still ache from yesterday. I think we just surrender to the compulsion and get the damned horn. Then we get clear."

  Egil's choice of the word "surrender" caused Nix to recall his disquieting dream, the screams, the blood, the sense of hopelessness he'd felt, a hopelessness so profound that surrender seemed the only option.

  "I dislike surrender," Nix said.

  "Aye," Egil agreed with a nod. "But what else can we do?"

  To that, Nix said nothing, and he, Egil, and the guards ate on the move as they worked breaking camp, the guards tearing things down as efficiently as they had set them up. Within the hour, they were moving again, following the enspelled road through the cut. The clouds returned and dull, filtered light leaked down from a gray sky. They traveled for leagues through the cut, walled by the blood-colored cliffs, the skeletal trees atop the cliff walls rattling in the wind.

  Around midday the driver of the supply wagon spotted something ahead and pulled the horses to a halt.

  "What is it?" Baras asked, and Rakon's head emerged from the carriage and repeated the question.

  "Something on the side of the road," the driver said, pointing. He was the oldest of the men, his hair going to gray and his body paunchy. "There."

  Half the guards readied crossbows, and the others, including Baras and Jyme, drew blades. Nix and Egil came to the front of the wagon train, their own weapons drawn, and saw the thing to which the driver was pointing, a broken form lying just off the side of the road about thirty paces ahead.

  "Probably an animal," Baras said, and pointed at his men. "The five of you stay with the wagons. Jyme, you're with me." To Rakon, he said, "My lord, we'll just have a look."

  "Be quick," Rakon said.

  Egil and Nix fell in beside Baras and Jyme. Nix kept his eyes on the cliffs as they approached, sniffing for an ambush, but none was forthcoming.

  "What is that?" Jyme asked as they neared the form.

  A body lay on the side of the road, the limbs twisted as if from a fall. Scales the color of sand covered the creature's wiry form, or what remained of its form. Its thin limbs were all sinew and muscle. Each of its five long fingers ended in black claws. The hairless head was a thin oval, vaguely humanlike, and thrown back as if in pain. Fangs filled the overlarge, open mouth. Two vertical slits in the center of its face must have been its nostrils. Many small cuts and bite marks covered the flesh, scores of them. Scavengers had been at the remains. Tatters of dried, leathery skin flapped in the breeze, a drawn curtain revealing ribs and spine.

  "It's a demon," Jyme whispered.

  Nix could not disagree. He'd never seen anything like it.

  "Fell from the top, I'd wager," Egil said, looking up at the valley walls.

  Baras looked back at the caravan, at the creature. "Whatever it is, it's dead. We need to keep moving." He waved the wagon and carriage forward.

  Eyes lingered on the dead creature's form as they passed. The guards made the protective sign of Orella. Rakon stared at the remains with hooded eyes as his carriage rolled past.

  As they traveled, they passed seven more carcasses. All of them were dead many days, perhaps weeks, and appeared broken from a fall. Bites and scratches covered the scaled flesh, and all had been torn open.

  The men gave the bodies a wide berth. Twice after passing bodies Baras consulted with Rakon, but he never shared the subject of the conversations with Nix.

  The valley seemed neverending and they continued on for hours, walled in by the cliffs, walking an inexplicable thoroughfare littered with the corpses of demons.

  The men remained tense and alert, keeping weapons to hand. Nix watched the sky, the tree-fringed top of the cut, the walls, but nothing occurred, and by nightfall the men seemed to have shed much of their nervousness.

  "Three more days," Nix said to Egil, as they assisted the guards in setting up camp.

  "Hmmph," Egil grunted, hammering tent stakes into the red earth.

  "What?" Nix asked.

  "Notice the sun?" Egil said.

  "That blazing orange circle in the sky? It's called the sun? I hadn't noticed it before."

  Egil didn't smile. "I mean did you notice its position."

  "We're surrounded by rock walls and it's cloudy. How would I notice its position?"

  Egil nodded. "You didn't pay attention. In any event, we're not headed due east anymore."

  "What? Shite. What direction are we headed? Are we lost?"

  Egil looked Nix in the face. "We're headed northeast. Rakon seem lost to you?"

  He didn't. "Maybe he just wants to stick on the road. Keep the wagons and carriage as long as possible before de-yoking the horses."

  "Maybe," Egil said.

  "You doubt it?"

  "I trust nothing about him," the priest said. "I think he aims for something other than a direct route to Afirion's deserts. But why, I can't say. And I think he knows more about those bodies we saw than he's telling. Did you see his face when we passed them?"

  Nix considered, and made up his mind. "Then let's see what we can see." He hustled over to Baras's side.

  "What is it, Nix?" The guardsman wiped his brow of sweat.

  Nix kept his voice low. "Afirion is due east and we're not headed due east. Why?"

  Baras's expression twisted up as he tried to find a suitable lie.

  "The truth, Baras."

  "The Lord Adjunct knows we're not headed due east. He wants to stay on the road."

  "Why? We could lose the wagons, divide the supplies between the men and horses, and head east overland."

  "I just follow orders, Nix."

  Nix looked to the carriage. "He's looking for something in the Wastes, isn't he? What is it?"

  If he had an answer, Baras didn't offer it.

  "You're in deep water here, yeah?" Nix asked.

  "I do what I'm told. You do the same."

  Nix rubbed his nose. "That doesn't work well for me as a philosophical matter."

  "Make it work," Baras said. "Meals in a half-hour."

  With that, he walked away. As always, they started a meager fire, just large enough to heat coffee and warm bodies. Rakon repeated his warning to them to keep the flames low, but he needn't have. The bodies they'd seen on the road had taught all of them caution.

  They ate as night came on. Afterward, Baras set double watches and the men sat near the fire and speculated about the bodies they'd seen. Egil went to his prayers early and Nix lingered near the flames, fearing sleep and dreams. He waited for the eunuch to remove Rusilla and Merelda to their tents, but he never did. The sisters remained in the carriage, as did Rakon. Nix recalled the small vial he'd seen in Rakon's hands when he'd broken into the carriage. At the time he'd assumed it was medicine, but now thought otherwise. He suspected it was a drug, designed to keep the sisters from practicing their witchcraft, or mindmagery, or whatever it was they did. Perhaps that explained why he hadn't had an ache behind his eyes or a head full of foreign thoughts. For that, he was thankful.

  Expecting a peaceful sleep, he dozed off near the fire. The dreams came anyway.

  Once more, Nix found himself standing in the long hall. Doors lined the hall, hiding horrors. The large, respiring door was directly before him. Again he wore a tattered dress with a torn bodice.

  Grunts and screams filled his ears. The handle on the respiring door started to turn and he lunged for it, grabbed the handle. He was sweating and his hands slipped. The door unlatched, opened a crack. He screamed in terror, slammed his shoulder into it to close it, and took the latch in both hands. A terrible force tried to wrench it into a turn.

  "No, no!" he said, his voice fearful and high-pitched.

  An impact against the other side of the door nearly dislodged him, but he held on. The door pulsed against him, sickening and warm.

  "Go away!" he screamed. "Leave me alone."

  More screams from behind the oth
er doors in the hallway, more grunting, a desperate wail. He could smell the coppery stink of fresh blood, imagined it flowing under the doors and into the hall. He was shaking, unnerved, surrounded by horror.

  "Let me in!" said a voice from the other side, a woman's voice, intense, insistent. "You must see!"

  "I don't want to see!" he screamed. "Leave me alone!"

  Another powerful thud against the pulsing door. He leaned against it and held it closed.

  "See it this way, then," said the woman's voice, her tone as final as a dirge.

  A piercing pain in his groin, as if he'd been stabbed, elicited a prolonged scream and doubled him over. He looked down to see blood pouring from between his legs, soaking his dress, pattering the floor in a flood of crimson.

  He shrieked in sickened horror and the sound of his own fear startled him awake.

  Wakefulness did not end the shrieking.

  He opened his eyes to see a cloud of keening creatures descending toward the campsite like a thunderhead, blotting out moons and stars. It was the flock of creatures they'd seen the day before, dropping on the camp in a cloud of fangs, scales, and beating wings. He could not easily distinguish individual creatures among the multitude.

  Men were shouting all around him, horses whinnying. Egil shouted his name. He had time enough only to curse, leap to his feet, and put hand to blade hilt before the creatures were upon him. Chaos followed, a mad churn of sound: men screaming, the creatures shrieking and growling, the beat of wings, the snap of fangs.

  Nix ducked low, eschewed his falchion, and put a dagger in each hand. He slashed and stabbed at anything within reach. In rough form, the creatures were about the size and shape of a goose. Leathery skin covered their bodies, and four overlapping membranous wings sprouted from their backs. Their necks ended in sleek heads. Small, red eyes perched over mouths lined with tiny fangs. Their taloned claws looked like those of a raptor. They shrieked, growled, and hissed as they swarmed.

  A creature tore at Nix's arm, a claw scratched his hand and cheek, and another creature landed on his back and sank its teeth into his scalp. He shouted with pain, reached back, grabbed it, and threw its fluttering form to the earth. He stomped it to death as he slashed another of the creatures hovering before him and snapping at his face. The fiends were everywhere, shrieking, biting, tearing exposed flesh.

  One landed on his legs, talons sinking into flesh, biting at his thigh. Another one appeared, diving for his face, clawed feet and toothy mouth snapping at his eyes and nose. He reeled backward, ducking, stumbling through several more, slashing as he went, severed wings and legs and throats. But for every creature he killed, another took its place, another. Teeth sank into his ear; claws dug into his scalp. He roared and twirled, stabbing and slashing wildly.

  Egil did the same five paces from him, the priest's shouts like the bellows of an angry bull. His hammers spun through the air so fast they hummed, pulping the creatures three and four at a swing. All around the campsite, the other guards were shrieking, bleeding. Blood dripped into Nix's eyes from his wounded scalp. Already his arms were tiring. Panic fogged the air along with the screams.

  The horses, unyoked from the wagons for the night but tethered to outcroppings of rock, whinnied and stomped, trapped by their tethers. Dozens of the creatures landed on the poor animals and tore at their flesh. The horses bucked, bellowed, pulled at their reins, heads shaking, muscles straining.

  "Save the horses!" Baras shouted, and several of his guards ran for the animals through the cloud of creatures. They chopped wildly with their blades as they ran.

  One of the guards, separated from the others, went down. Nix ran for him, but more than a dozen of the creatures swarmed him. Teeth snapped before his eyes, sank into his hands, causing him to curse and drop a dagger. He drew another as he recoiled from the creatures, slashing and stabbing those he could reach.

  "Help! Get them off!" the downed guard called.

  The creatures squawked and swarmed the guard until he was covered in a blanket of their scaled bodies. He dropped his weapon, his arms flailing wildly, desperately, screaming in terror and pain.

  Baras and Egil roared and charged toward the fallen man from opposite directions, but before they could get to him, the creatures had sunk their talons into his flesh and clothes and lifted him into the air. He hung limp in their collective grasp, perhaps already dead, arms and legs dangling like a doll's. Egil leaped for him but the man was already out of reach.

  Baras cursed and, shielding his head and face, ran to help his men in protecting the horses. Egil fell in with him. The draft animals were panicked, kicking and whinnying, and Baras went down trying to dodge a kick from one of them. Egil grabbed him by the collar and pulled him away, and together with the other guards they beat back a furious attack from scores of the flying creatures.

  "Everyone here!" Egil called. "We need to fight together! Nix!"

  Nix slashed a creature tearing at his arm, stomped another on the ground, cleared the air before him with a furious series of slashes. The creatures formed a cloud around him, an endless flutter of wings, snapping teeth, and slashing talons. Bleeding and fatigued, Nix made a run for the horses, slashing furiously as he ran. Blood ran into his eyes, blinded him, and he stumbled on rock, fell.

  The moment he hit the ground dozens of the creatures landed on him, ripping his clothes and flesh, tearing at his leather jack. One bit the back of his neck, his scalp again, tearing loose a clump of hair. Another bit his ear. He tried to roll over and bring his blades to bear, but before he could he felt the sickening, terrifying feeling of his body being lifted up. Two score of the creatures at least clutched him by his flesh and his clothes and were bearing him into the air. He watched in horror as the ground fell away beneath him. He flashed on an image of himself carried into one of the holes in the earth they'd seen earlier, his body reduced to bones, made part of a mound of the dead. Panic lent him strength. He kicked and squirmed frenetically, desperately.

  "Egil! Egil!"

  He tried to turn his body, slash with his blade, but only managed to writhe to no effect. A talon tore a furrow in his cheek, narrowly missing his eye. He twisted and squirmed wildly, fueled by fear and adrenaline. He managed to dislodge enough of the creatures that they lost some altitude, but they did not release him. Teeth sank into his legs, his arms. Blood dripped from his wounds, dotted the earth. He started to rise again.

  "Shite! Egil!"

  He glimpsed Egil a fraction of a second before the priest leaped high for him and tackled him back to earth. Nix felt the squirming, fluttering death throes of several of the creatures crushed between his body and the earth. He rolled to the side and climbed to his feet, swinging his blade at the hissing creatures attacking him from all sides. Egil did the same, his hammers reaping the creatures in twos and threes.

  The priest grabbed Nix by the arm and propelled him along toward Baras and the horses, fending off the creatures as best he could with one hammer.

  "I'm good," Nix said, shaking his arm free and stabbing a creature with his dagger.

  "Maybe put on some weight though, eh?" Egil said, grinning, his face bloody and torn.

  "We need to find cover!" Baras shouted, hacking at the creatures attacking him and the horses. The poor draft horses kicked and screamed piteously. Baras and his fellow guards stood in a cluster near the horses, fighting desperately against the swarm that seemed unending.

  "There is no damned cover!" Egil shouted, and slammed his hammer through another two scaled bodies.

  Rakon's shout from within the carriage cut through the tumult. "Get wood on the fire! Now, Baras! Right now!"

  The creatures thronged the carriage too, coating it in their scaly, winged forms, but Rakon had pulled the wood slat windows closed except for a slit, and that appeared to have kept the creatures out.

  "Now, Baras!" Rakon said.

  Two of the creatures lunged for the slit, got their talons on either side of it, wings fluttering, and tried to
pry it open and wriggle through. Their heads darted forward into the opening, teeth gnashing. Rakon cursed and slammed the slat shut on them, pinning their necks there, the creatures shrieking, flapping, and soon limp.

  Baras ducked his head and ran for the fire pit. Nix, Egil, and Jyme followed, slashing, grabbing, stomping. The ground was crunchy with dead and wounded creatures, slick with blood. Nix stumbled as he ran, his arms and legs leaden. Before him, Jyme stumbled, fell, and the creatures landed on his back, tearing and biting. Nix stabbed three of them and pulled Jyme to his feet with a grunt. One landed on Nix's arm and bit him hard on his shoulder, but his jack turned it. Jyme ran it through with his blade.

  Baras and Egil fought off the creatures as best they could while they tossed logs onto the embers. Egil crushed two with a swing of a log before he threw it on the flames. Sparks rose into the sky. The creatures shrieked in response to the spark shower, cleared away from the rising flames and smoke.