by Aaron Bunce
“Silence!” Tanea hissed. She refused to let him unnerve her, as if that would be difficult. And at the same time, she couldn’t entirely deny what he said. The creatures could have easily outrun them, especially with the hobbled old man slowing her down. The beasts were hunting them, driving them into a corner.
“You’ve been down here, there has to be a way out,” Tanea whispered, flinching as something heavy unsettled a pile of rock somewhere behind them. It sounded horrifyingly close.
Faster, Tanea. You need to move faster! She urged herself forward, prodding the old man with a jab to his bony ribs.
“Of course there are, you stupid girl. But I’ve only ever been in the tunnels under the Chapterhouse. These passageways lead to a dozen spots in the city, or beyond. But this place is ancient, and no one knows which tunnels might have collapsed. Why don’t you ask your fading goddess for help, abomina…” he trailed off, the passage behind them going suddenly very quiet.
“Move!” Tanea hissed, just as a flurry of movement sounded in the darkness. She heard the scrape of claws on stone, the air broken by ragged and wheezing growls.
Tanea threw her weight hard into the old man, sending them both into a tumbling roll. A dark form leapt past them, appearing momentarily in the diffuse glow from the vent before disappearing back into the gloom. The beast’s musk hung like a thick blanket in the air.
They fear the light. She wrenched Father Pallum to his feet and pulled him back into the blinding pool of light, her heart raging in her chest. A pain throbbed in her shoulder, and she looked down to find her tunic torn, the pale skin beneath marred by a deep gash.
White Lady, let your light guide me to a safe harbor, make my flesh as stone. Her silent prayer was interrupted by a loud growl. A form darted out of the darkness, black claws raking through the bright light. With a hiss, the beast shrank back into the gloom, temporarily driven back.
Tanea’s heart fluttered. She felt Julian, his strength and his pain. He was so very close, she almost felt as if she could reach out and pull him to her. Julian! His sword could push the creatures back, but he wasn’t there.
The words of her prayer suddenly echoed back into her mind. Light…stone. The idea formed on its own, just like before in the gardens, when the sky opened up and rained fire on the gnarls. Since then she’d expected Mani to blanket her in protection, to read her mind and provide her all she needed. Stupid, she thought.
She pushed Father Pallum back against the wall and crouched low, reaching out towards a stone. Black claws flashed into the bright light, slashing at her hand and forcing her back. She waited and lunged out again, her hand closing around the stone, but before she could pull it back the gnarl’s claws raked in, catching her hand.
Tight, wiry fingers closed around her hand, the jagged claws digging painfully into her skin. The beast pulled, wrenching her forward. She slapped her other hand against the ground and pulled back, but the creature was strong.
Her weight shifted, but before she could topple forward, Father Pallum’s bony hands clamped around her shoulders and pulled. Tanea rocked back, her weight shifting. The gnarl’s grip didn’t break, its long, dark arm pulling into the pool of brilliant light.
“Drop the stone, fool girl!” Father Pallum spat, but Tanea shook her head, cringing as the gnarl’s claws dug deeper into her flesh.
“I…can’t,” she gasped, rocking forward before surging back and yanking her arm towards her body. The gnarl tipped forward, the upper half of its body falling forward into the bright light. The beast hissed in pain, its brown, bulbous eyes shining like glassy mirrors before it was able to cover its face with the other claw. Tanea jerked on the stone once again and this time the gnarl’s grip broke. The creature skittered back into the darkness, hissing and growling angrily.
“What kind of weapon is a stone against these beasts?” Father Pallum grumbled, releasing his grip on her shoulders and slumping back against the wall. “Their fear of the light will wane. And when it does, they will walk right up to us and soak the ground with our blood.”
Tanea held the roughly egg-shaped stone before her, ignoring the old man, her right hand bleeding from a half dozen claw marks. The gnarls shifted and moved beyond that, the hunters circling their protective sphere of light.
“White Lady, hear my plea. Charge me with your strength once again. Split this cursed darkness with your light, prove your greatness to the weak of faith,” Tanea said, her body humming along with her prayer, her hand tightening around the stone.
The strange otherworldly presence returned, swirling around her as the unintelligible voice of her goddess filled her. The blood dribbling from her hand stopped dripping onto the floor and instead ran up and onto the stone. The energy swirled in her body and rushed up and through her arm, rushing through her fingers and into the stone. A heartbeat later, the rock came to life.
Tanea tossed the stone into the air above them, cold, porous rock turning into feathers and wings as light exploded outward, washing the darkness away. The gnarls shrieked, falling over themselves, clutching and clawing at their eyes. They stumbled blindly back, falling over each other and running dumbly into the cavern walls.
She watched in amazement as the light pushed out to every crack and nook of the passage, driving the gnarls into full flight. The radiant bird flapped its wings, hovering just over Tanea’s shoulder as she turned.
“Gah, my eyes!” Father Pallum cursed, lifting his hands to cover his face, “douse that foul light!”
“Go! They won’t retreat far,” Tanea said, turning the old man and pushing him down the hall.
Guide me to you, Julian, she pleaded, her hand pressed over her heart as she pushed forward into the cavernous tunnels.
* * * *
Julian edged to his right, keeping Boar and the last remaining gnarl before him. Boar chuckled, the sound muffled by the mask. The gnarl stepped in, jabbing the spear at his midsection, but it did not fully commit to the attack, and Julian easily sidestepped it to his right.
“Yer spendin’ more time moving than attacking. That’s how fleas die,” Boar grunted and swung the heavy falchion in a wide arc, almost decapitating the gnarl in the process.
Julian tested the big man’s strength and speed, using his agility to carefully move into position. When the falchion swung around again, Julian ducked and turned, swinging half-heartedly at the gnarl. As he hoped, the creature leapt back, allowing him to move right once again and position his body between the two and the room’s entrance.
The gnarl ducked forward again, jabbing its spear. This time, Julian didn’t dodge away, but towards the beast, easily sidestepping the spear. Nightbreaker slashed down hard, cutting through mottled fur, flesh, and ribs.
“I wanted to make sure you couldn’t send your beast away to sound an alarm,” Julian admitted, sizing up the large faceless. Boar laughed again, his belly jiggling out from under his ill-fitting armor.
“Like I need help squashing a little flea like you,” Boar said.
Julian responded with action, lunging forward with his left leg and stabbing Nightbreaker hard at the man’s soft midsection. Boar caught Nightbreaker with the wide dagger, turning it aside as he crossed and countered with the heavier and longer falchion. Julian caught the attack with a high guard, Nightbreaker humming as the two blades met. The sword, Julian realized, absorbed most of the shock.
Boar kicked out, ripping the falchion back. His boot barely missed and as soon as his weight came down the dagger cut in a tight arc, forcing Julian back again. The big man was strong, and skilled. He kept both blades poised – the longer, heavier falchion at length to keep Julian off balance, and the wide-bladed dagger in close, protecting against him getting inside the longer weapon. And yet, he lacked Spider’s staggering speed and technique.
“Where you going to go now, fool flea? You manage to get by me and free the other fleas, where will you go? You’re in the middle of a city, filled with us…”
Nightbreaker vibrated
, urging him forward, so he stepped wide and cut at the man’s shoulder, which fell just short, and immediately doubled, the blade’s tip missing on the first but digging into Boar’s metal breastplate on the second.
The big man staggered back, his taunt fading into an alarmed grunt. Julian didn’t wait for the man to set his feet. He cross cut at chest level, brought Nightbreaker in a downward feint, and immediately went into a hard jab. Boar’s dagger swept across too late, Julian’s blade sliding into the joint of his mismatched armor and cutting into ample flesh.
“Arrgh! Wretched flea!” Boar bellowed, flicking the large falchion across and forcing Julian back.
The line of prisoners grew animated, their whimpers of pain and fear suddenly replaced with cries of hope as they urged Julian on. He parried a sweeping cut of the falchion and immediately crossed with his right foot, cutting down hard and catching the flat of the dagger blade. Boar’s hand dropped from the strike, but his grip on the dagger did not break as he hoped.
A sidelong glance told Julian that the skinsmith and his assistant had taken notice. The freakishly large men stared from the wide table, the woman’s squirming form held down by a massive, meaty palm.
“Look out!” one of the prisoners yelled, just as the heavy falchion swung from his blindside. The heavy, curved sword struck his left spaulder, jolting Julian aside, the cutting edge glancing up and catching his ear.
Pain flared in the side of his head. Julian cursed himself for his inattentiveness as he ducked back out of reach, pressing a glove to the fresh cut.
“The flea bleeds! Now we’re even,” Boar growled, patting his belly where Julian’s sword left its mark.
The smaller skinsmith, perhaps the larger man’s assistant, appeared suddenly, roaring an alarmingly feral battle cry. Julian feinted a high guard to fend off his thick knife, but ducked low and around the bear-sized man as he thundered by, Nightbreaker cutting cleanly through his bloody apron, and into the thick, muscled thigh underneath. The man staggered and fell face-first into the ground, before pushing slowly back to his feet. He stuck a grubby finger through the hole in the apron, pulled the bloody finger away, and swiped it under his nose. Julian wondered what kind of man could see, and move, without eyes.
Not a man, but more animal, Julian thought, mastering a stab of panic as the large man licked the bloody finger.
Boar was easily a head taller and half again Julian’s weight, while the skinsmith was larger still. If the two men worked together, Julian wouldn’t stand a chance.
Nightbreaker hummed in his hand, vibrating at the same time Tanea’s heart jumped in his chest. Pain…darkness…fear. She felt close…closer than she had felt since he’d foolishly left the city. Boar swarmed in, his falchion cutting down once and then again. Julian knocked the first strike aside, but pivoted and lunged backwards, the heavy sword smashing against the polished floor between his feet in a shower of dust and chipped rock.
The skinsmith limped in, swinging his thick knife in frantic jabs, foamy spittle flying from his mouth as he barreled into Boar. Julian threw his body over a table and tumbled in a heap on the other side, the two large men falling right behind him and smashing the table under their weight.
He didn’t have time to waste, nor would he likely have the strength to outlast the two larger, stronger men. Pera! he thought, just as the blind skinsmith crawled forward from the pile of limbs. No, the Nymradic couldn’t help him. The large man stepped on Boar as he came forward in a limping rush.
Julian retreated, watching the enormous figure barrel towards him. He needed a spear, something with length, but aside from a tall, spindly candleholder he couldn’t see anything useful. A thought struck him. He’s more animal than man, Julian rationalized.
“Let loose the god of chaos,” he muttered, reciting something his gray-haired, wizened cavalry tutor used to say. The older man harped on it sun up to sun down, barking about the importance of breaking lines and sowing discord in the enemy’s ranks. Julian knew he was right. Chaos would be his ally. But how? He didn’t have men on armored horse to charge at the two men.
Setting his feet, Julian parried the knife’s first jab, barely deflected the second, but had to duck away, pulling a table between them. He watched Boar stand, shaking his head before retrieving his falchion from the ground. Pain! Julian surmised. Wounded animals are unpredictable. They’ll lash out at anything close to them.
The skinsmith grabbed the table and heaved it aside, swiping a bloody hand across his eyeless mask. He snarled viciously and ducked forward in an ungainly and off-balance jab. Julian turned around the strike, dropping Nightbreaker, letting the tip of the blade cut into the bulk of the man’s forearm. The skinsmith howled, turning quickly, his hands swinging in frantic circles, tearing at the air as they sought something to crush or pull apart. It was working.
Julian set his feet, pivoted to his right, and lunged, working mechanically through his well-practiced progressions. Move. Strike. Set feet. Move. Nightbreaker’s tip plunged into the man’s other thigh, drawing a fresh spurt of blood.
Boar laughed and lifted an arm towards the people chained against the wall. A telltale green glow surged on his wrist as a man suddenly screamed in pain. No! Julian wouldn’t let it happen again, not if he could help it.
The skinsmith screamed, his voice breaking into a primal, terrifying sound. Julian ducked a heavy hand and turned, dragging the blade across the large man’s back. The skinsmith swung back, his mouth twisted by rage, and thrashed after him, but Julian reversed his direction and danced out of reach.
Julian set his feet and made for the faceless. He doubled his grip on Nightbreaker and jumped, bringing the sword down with as much strength as he could muster. Boar lifted the dagger and falchion, his momentum changing in a flash. Nightbreaker crashed into the cross guard with a satisfying ring of metal on metal, the force behind the strike knocking Boar’s arms back, the blades striking his metal mask in unison.
The faceless grunted and staggered back, but recovered quickly, violence in his movements that wasn’t there before. The falchion snapped out, cutting at Julian’s head. Nightbreaker deflected the heavy weapon up high, but the dagger cut in right behind it, bouncing off his breastplate. He jumped back, just as something heavy stuck him from behind.
The floor and ceiling turned over, metal rattling against him, smacking him in the face. Julian rolled free, Boar’s weight almost landing atop him. A dark fog rolled over his vision, threatening to topple him from consciousness and only a heroic show of willpower kept Julian from tumbling into the darkness. He rolled twice to get clear, and came face to face with the skinsmith, the large man crawling on his belly, before fighting to his feet.
Julian staggered to his knees, his vision still wobbling dizzily. The skinsmith lurched, blood running from a handful of blade strikes. He growled and grunted, his horrible, eyeless face never straying from Julian.
Nightbreaker wavered as he tried to jab, three of the blade’s stabbing straight out before him. The skinsmith’s knife cut across, and on impulse, Julian focused on the clearer version of the large man.
Steel rang against steel as the knife struck the sword sideways, the vibration humming in his ears. Another angry voice added to the chaos as Boar surged back in, shouldering the skinsmith aside. But the larger man was too fully into his rage now and bent with the force. Julian deflected the falchion as the faceless and skinsmith fell over one another.
“Kill the flea, ya’ daft butcher,” Boar bellowed as the large man battered him with his hands, the large, bloody knife now forgotten. A fist cracked into the faceless’ mask, knocking the big man back.
“Find yer’ senses,” Boar tried to yell, but the skinsmith tore into him like an animal.
Julian ran forward, ducking a massive, meaty arm as it split the air, desperate to take advantage of the chaos. The skinsmith wrapped his strong arms around Boar and drove his face into the smaller man’s mask. They stumbled back, Boar grunting loudly.
&nbs
p; Nightbreaker stabbed in, missing Boar as the two men teetered sideways. He lunged forward and jabbed again, catching the faceless in the crease of his bracer. The heavy falchion rattled to the ground, the two men reversing their direction, grappling like a pair of angry bears.
Boar threw a heavy elbow into the skinsmith, knocking the man back. Julian cut hard, catching the faceless just below the elbow. Nightbreaker cut through leather straps and flesh, one of the man’s heavy bracers falling away. Boar hissed angrily, turning to Julian, but before he could retaliate the skinsmith dove into him, knocking him back.
The two clobbered each other again, Julian dancing around them, trying to line up Boar for a fatal strike while not being trampled to death at the same time. The faceless was the bigger threat, despite the skinsmith’s size.
Boar brought both of his hands up suddenly in a violent uppercut, catching the skinsmith under the chin. Blood spattered into the air as he staggered towards Julian, the rabid man’s lips torn open.
Julian crossed, turned, and chopped Nightbreaker down, cutting clean through the skinsmith’s wrist. The severed fist hit the ground like a rock, the big man turning and staggering toward him. He barreled forward a drunken step, and then two, seemingly content to bury Julian under his significant bulk.
Julian braced his back foot and held Nightbreaker our before him, thinking he would use the large man’s bulk against him, but changed his mind on the fly, reversing the grip on the sword. The big man fell, his arms clawing at the air, swatting and spattering everything with blood, his shadow promising a mountain of smothering flesh. Julian sidestepped at the very last moment, swinging his sword up at the same time. The blade bit into the big man’s throat, slicing through thick skin, sinew, and muscle.