A March of Woe (Overthrown Book 3)

by Aaron Bunce

  “Gaston! We need an exit!” Nirnan bellowed, before roaring, his reddish beard stained with his own blood. The big man swung, catching a gnarl in midair, its blood violently spattering the ground. He kicked another solidly in the chest, sending it careening back into the swarm, knocking half a dozen others into a sprawl.

  “The stone’s singing. I can feel it, an exit is close, but ee need light to see the path,” the half-blood yelled back from the darkness ahead.

  “I need the fire,” Tanea gasped, waving the torch before her. “I was lucky to find this one, and I’m not sure I have the strength left to light another.”

  The cavern’s foul smell was twofold stronger than it had been just moments ago, the smell stinging her eyes and turning her stomach. It smelled like a sewer. Tanea didn’t want to die in the darkness, covered in squalor.

  “It’s stronger, yes. Wait! Ee see something,” Gaston suddenly yelled, his voice rising abruptly in pitch.

  Tanea muttered a silent prayer, channeling every ounce of strength into the torch, willing the fire with the very beating of her heart. The wood crackled and fizzled, the fire surging brighter, just as her heart fluttered in her chest. She jabbed the wood forward, but the gnarls were closer than she realized and jabbed the fire right into a creature’s chest. Its fur instantly started to smolder and smoke, bluish wisps of flame flashing up its body.

  The gnarl screeched and flailed, throwing its body into those around it in a frantic dance to escape the flames. The horde faltered, falling into a chaotic mass, the fire spreading from the first beast to those around it.

  “Right smart move,” Nirnan breathed appreciatively, his wheezing breath pluming in the cold air.

  “It is here. A way out,” one of the clerics yelled, “…there is a grate over the opening! Goddess save us!”

  Tanea’s hopes sored, and promptly plummeted. She grasped Nirnan’s arm, his cold skin sticky with blood, and shoved the torch into his hand. “I am going to help them,” she yelled. He nodded, the fire gleaming in his large, blue eyes. He turned stoically back, stabbing a gnarl as it surged forward, its fur smoking and flesh singed.

  She pushed back through the bodies, running blindly into a wide column in the center of the cavern. Tanea worked her way around it, a gentle glow appearing on the rock around her. Bright, white light appeared as she rounded the structural support, a group of dark figures clustering in the middle of the bright opening.

  Gaston grunted, smacking the stone with his hammer, the group of clerics yelling and crying, pulling and pushing on iron bars crisscrossing the opening.

  “Stop pushing on it, ye daft mush heads,” Gaston yelled, but the clerics were too deeply into their panic to listen.

  Tanea grabbed the closest man’s tunic and pulled him back and elbowed past the next two. The smith brought the hammer down onto the stone again, yellow sparks igniting against the white glow.

  “What do I do?” she asked, wrapping her hands around the iron.

  Gaston stopped and looked at her, his eyes wide with fear. His mouth worked quietly for a moment, until Nirnan’s voice cut in from behind them, the sound seemingly snapping him to clarity.

  “Tis loose. The rivets are old and rusty. You need to pull and push in unison. The metal will break, but ye need to work gether-like!”

  Tanea nodded, looking to either side and finding El’bryliz to her right. “We work together. I say ‘pull” and we pull. Then we push. Come on!” she yelled, desperately.

  “Pull!” Tanea screamed, the group smashing in around her to find a hold. They pulled, growling and crying desperately. Gaston smashed his hammer into the wall, trying to break the rivets loose.

  “Push!” she yelled next, and they put their weight against the iron, bodies smashing into her from behind. Stars exploded before her eyes as her face bounced off cold, unforgiving metal, but she refused to give in.

  “Pull!” she screamed again, barely enough breath in her lungs to form the words. The group surged back, the grate suddenly popping loudly.

  “Ye got one! Ee see it!” Gaston yelled suddenly, his optimism filling Tanea with a new hope.

  “Arrgh!” someone screamed behind them, the air filling with the indistinguishable cries of beast and men.

  “Push!” Tanea yelled again, bracing as the weight slammed her forward again. The iron sagged under their weight, the pressure squashing her beyond any point comfortable.

  “Pull!” El’bryliz screamed next to her, when she could not, their combined strength wrenching the grate back more violently this time. Tanea’s head started to swim, the screaming of beasts, men, and metal blurring together. The weight slammed her forward, let up, and pressed over her again. She felt her body tipping forward, a dark spot appearing in her vision and quickly growing, consuming the bright light that hung teasingly before her.

  Tanea felt like she was on a beach, cold waves surging up and pressing her body into the sand, only to recede and eagerly pull her towards the crushing dark. Something popped and tore, the loud sound surrounding her, and then she was falling forward.

  Pain erupted in her back, pressure crashing onto her and smashing her into the ground. Fog lifted a little, just as something scrabbled over top of her, trampling her body to escape into the open, bright air. She lifted an arm and dragged her body forward, but more weight smashed her back down. It happened over and over again, finally her head cracking against the stone.

  Images flashed through her mind – first of dark hair, and red-trimmed armor. She was floating backwards, her feet dragging in the stained snow. Everything was bright. El’bryliz appeared before her, a dagger clutched tightly in hand, and then she fell into the darkness.

  * * * *

  A fist slammed against Julian’s face, knocking his whole head aside. Blood filled his mouth, choking him and running into his throat. The man screamed, his eyes wild with battle frenzy, and lunged forward, chopping his axe at Julian’s chest.

  Nightbreaker caught just under the blade, and the two weapons locked together. The man pulled him close, rearing back but Julian ducked sideways, pulling Nightbreaker free and dodging the obvious headbutt. He danced back, avoiding another wide axe swing, and almost stumbled over the two men he’d already killed. They weren’t disciplined, but they seemed to get stronger when hurt, their wild and unpredictable methods more than compensating.

  Julian swung hard, but the man rolled forward, under the blade and rammed the blunt handle end of his axe hard into his side. The crowd cheered savagely, anticipating blood as he staggered aside, his wind gone.

  A large form pushed through the back of the crowd, shoving through the broken fence and into the clearing. Julian spun away, narrowly missing the axe blade again and returned, repeating with hard lunges at the man’s midsection. Both strikes were nimbly avoided.

  His opponent noticed the commotion too, and Julian took advantage, cross stepping and cutting up from his low guard. Nightbreaker caught the man across his left hip, the blade biting deep and sliding free, blood following in a wide splatter.

  The crowd roared, the injured man collapsing to his hands and knees. Julian turned, just as Boar emerged from the crowd. The people noticed him, and instantly dropped to the ground, bowing and extending their hands before them.

  “Lord Collector,” they droned in unison.

  Julian noticed another sound in the sudden lull of noise. A violent chant echoed behind him, punctuated by what sounded like the angry strike of metal on stone.

  “Flea!” Boar roared, just as the sound of tearing metal boomed behind him. The rusted iron lattice swung down in a crash, torn from its place covering the cave entrance. Motion flashed in the fissure where the lattice just stood, a solitary figure flailing into the light. Julian caught sight of Tanea, her white tunic and fiery red hair unmistakable, just before a host of people erupted from the opening, trampling her beneath their churning feet.

  “Tanea!” Julian screamed, running to the grate. A young man in exotic armor burst fro
m the darkness, and shoved the panicking people away. He scooped Tanea off the ground, rolling her over. The iron cage was all that separated him from her.

  A small, distant voice urged him to move. Pera? He ducked and rolled away just as a heavy falchion crashed into the cage, where his head was an instant before. Boar loomed over him, the crowd of onlookers chanting his name again and again.

  Julian chanced a glance through the bars. The dark haired man pulled Tanea out of the gutter, her face and clothes covered in filth and blood. He watched helplessly as her head hung limp. She looked dead.

  “You!” he screamed just as Gaston appeared from the crevice, Tristan struggling at his side. Banner appeared next, and finally Nirnan, the big man chopping madly at the darkness. Julian wedged an arm through the bars. He’d never fit, not with his armor on.

  A colossal weight struck him suddenly, his armor ringing with the blow. Julian tumbled, pain exploding everywhere. A large shadow fell over him, and the world righted, his body lifting fully off the ground.

  “You made me kill ‘em. You made me butcher all of ‘em. They were mine. I collected ‘em. Now I’m gonna take it out of your hide!” Boar growled, his eyes burning with intense hatred.

  The large faceless swung about and smashed Julian into the iron cage, the force popping every joint in his body. The clerics were climbing, scrabbling at the iron, while some smashed their bodies unceremoniously into the gaps between bars.

  “Collect the maggots, while I pull this flea apart! To honor the masters, we’ll decorate the walls with his parts!” Boar roared, the crowd rushing forward.

  The pummel of the falchion swung in towards his head, but Julian caught the man’s arm and managed to wrestle inside the strike. The large man caught his right hand as Nightbreaker swung in, his grip squeezing with a sickening crack. Julian screamed, his hand going numb and the blade falling away.

  He turned back. Nirnan and Banner, his friends, stood before the yawning crevice, scrabbling, dark bodies pouring out the opening. The young dark haired man hoisted Tanea’s still body up against the grate and tried to climb, but he could not seem to lift her. A bloody bandage covered one hand.

  “Tanea!” he screamed, fighting to break from the larger man’s grip. Boar pushed him forward into the grate. Julian’s face bounced off the pitted metal, his broken arm flopping through the gap in the bars. He reached, scrabbling with numb fingers, but she was just out of reach.

  “You care for that one!” Boar gasped, his mask hovering next to Julian. The big man chuckled breathlessly, his ruined voice like searing coals. “Let’s watch my pets tear them apart!”

  Nirnan cut a gnarl down as it scampered forward, but two more surged in behind it, their claws catching the big man’s arms. Banner shouldered one of the creatures aside and stabbed the other, but the hole was full of the beasts, their bodies churning into the light like angry, hissing pitch.

  Pera! Help me! Julian screamed desperately, his thoughts echoing in his mind. A whisper sounded in the distance, the choker around his neck tingling against his flesh.

  Julian tried to wrestle back, reaching to tear the magical collar from his neck, but the large man was too strong. He trapped his other arm in a vice-like grip and smashed his face against the bars. The small, dark haired man came forward to Nirnan’s side, awkwardly tackling a small gnarl and driving a shiny, curved dagger into its chest. The small man looked hobbled, wounded, clutching his bandaged hand protectively against his body.

  A swarm of gnarls sprang onto the small man, their claws and teeth scrabbling against his armor. Nirnan bellowed and kicked one of the creatures free, impaling another on his sword, but a hefty creature leapt onto his back, another one diving in at his side.

  “I told you to climb, boy!” Nirnan bellowed, but the smaller man shook his head.

  “I’m not letting them have her,” Julian heard him yell in response.

  “Run!” Julian screamed, helplessly, urging them to flee.

  Asofel pounded on a creature that flanked Banner, the young spearman using nothing more than his fists to fend the beast off. Tristan appeared from the chaos, dragging his body across the ground, moving towards Tanea’s body. Gaston stumbled into view, and fell over the injured archer, blood soaking his shoulder.

  They’re dying, my gods, they’re dying to protect her. The horror washed over Julian in a wave of crushing black. The gnarls surrounded the group, breaking their makeshift and almost defenseless line. Nirnan grabbed Banner and Asofel and shoved them towards Tanea, screaming “climb!” He pinned a gnarl to the ground with a boot as it tried to follow, but another creature appeared through the throng, running a crude spear into his leg.

  Nirnan dropped to his knee, chopping weakly at the beasts, but their claws flashed in, catching him again and again. With a final, pained cry, his friend disappeared into the wave of savage creatures.

  “No!!!!” Julian screamed, loss and pain tearing into him as keenly as the claws and teeth. Boar laughed, feeding on Julian’s suffering.

  Banner, Asofel, and the young man hovered over Tanea and Tristan’s body, trembling blades held out before them. The gnarls hissed and advanced, forming a solid wall of black claws and snapping maws.

  “That’s how my wretched beasts hunt and kill! They wear you down, pick you apart piece by piece, and then swarm you over! Wonderful!” Boar hissed, chuckling appreciatively.

  “No…” Julian snarled, the magical choker burning against his neck. He fought to pull his arm free, to tear it off, but Boar’s hold might as well have been the mountain itself.

  Pera…Goddess, White Lady, save us, he pleaded, the gnarls grasping the blade of Banner’s sword and wrenching it from his hand. It was all over. He couldn’t watch them torn apart. He wouldn’t survive it.

  A sizable rock appeared suddenly, tumbling down the sheer cliff over the cage and smashed a gnarl’s head into the ground. Smaller debris rained down, and then a massive shadow streaked into sight. The form leapt from the rock and landed atop the cage, iron creaking and groaning under the weight. Then with an earsplitting yowl, black scales shining beneath shifting feathers, the drakin leapt into the sea of gnarls.

  The beast had followed him, scaling the mountain to do so. Then he remembered the weight settling on the roof of the skinsmith’s lair, and the shadow following him on the rooftops. It wasn’t enemies surrounding him, after all.

  A charge filled Julian as the giant, reptilian creature sprang forward, catching a handful of gnarls in its talons and smashing them to the ground. It snapped its toothy maw, tearing another creature from the ground, then gave a violent shake of its head and whipped the dead gnarl across the clearing.

  The gnarls fell to frenzy, screeching and tumbling over one another to escape, but the drakin was too powerful and fast. It coiled and spun, its tail lashing across, knocking a handful of the beasts aside.

  “Impossible…” Boar croaked, watching the large predator tear a bloody swath through the throng. The drakin pounced again, knocking a handful of gnarls out of the way.

  Asofel screamed, shrinking back and falling over Gaston’s prone form as the scaly predator approached. But it didn’t attack him. Instead, it turned, and batted the nearest gnarls away.

  Boar rumbled unintelligibly and wrenched Julian around, slamming him unceremoniously into the iron again like a doll. He wrenched Julian’s good arm behind his back, before lifting a strange, reddish-black horn to the mouth hole of his mask. The faceless inhaled and blew, the familiar bizarre tone splitting the air. All the warmth instantly drained away, leaving Julian horribly empty.

  The gnarls instantly changed. They skidded to a halt from their chaotic scramble and turned as one, ears perked as they searched the air for the source of the noise.

  “Tear them apart, feast upon their flesh, and paint the ground red with their blood,” Boar yelled, after pulling the horn away from his mouth.

  The gnarls dropped to all fours and crept forward, their dark eyes and blood-covered fur
glistening in the failing sunlight. The drakin dropped low, hissing a loud warning, but the beasts advanced undeterred, showing none of the fear from a moment earlier.

  A handful of screeching gnarls sprang forward. The drakin swatted them out of the air with a flashing claw, but more surged in behind them. The scaly predator caught one of the beasts in its mouth, and pinned another against the ground, but there were too many of them.

  Pera! Julian screamed with his thoughts, I need you!

  Snarling with frantic need, the gnarls swept past the drakin’s defenses and onto its body, clutching, raking, and biting with complete abandon. The massive predator rolled, and spun, bodies tumbling and flying free, but more swarmed in to take their place.

  The choker grew hot against Julian’s neck, the metal burning into his skin. Boar chuckled and turned, moving to hook the horn to his belt, his crushing hold suddenly going slack. Julian kicked a boot up onto the cage and pushed with all of his strength, turning and torqueing his body.

  Boar dropped the horn in alarm, and squeezed, his arms clamping down around Julian’s chest. The large faceless wrenched him back around, his left arm smashed between their bodies, but with a great heave, his injured, right arm swung free.

  Julian reached for the magical collar, Boar’s free arm snaking around the injured appendage and squeezing. Pain shot into his right hand, stabbing back into his body like a javelin. He grimaced, swallowing down the pain as his numb fingers scrambled against the chest plate. His fingers caught the bottom lip of the collar.

  “Don’t fight, flea. There is nothing you can do now. Just watch,” Boar whispered, almost lovingly, his mask smashed against the side of Julian’s head.

  “It’s not me you should worry about,” he growled back, pushing with an abrupt and violent movement. Something in his arm popped loudly, the pain almost unhinging him, but his fingers slipped around the collar.