The Cavalier Trilogy: Book 02 - The Rise of Malbeck

by Jason McWhirter

  “Go!” Jonas yelled through gritted teeth. Durgen ran forward, leaping from dry spot to dry spot, making his way toward the hill.

  The men on the hill were cheering them on and the bowmen faced them with arrows nocked and ready.

  Fil looked back towards the brush and heard more trysts nearing. They had to go, and now.

  “Damn it, Fil, Go!” Jonas yelled. His head pounded and his face was contorted in pain as he fought to hold the cleared path.

  Fil hesitated no longer. He ran past Jonas, carefully finding a path through the swampy ground.

  Evryn was just about to follow Fil when the brush behind Jonas shook and two trysts emerged. Wasting no time they barreled toward them. Evryn didn’t hesitate; acting out of instinct he ran forward to protect Jonas’s back. He gripped his axe at the end of the handle, stepping into a powerful throw. The weapon somersaulted the short distance, slamming into the chest of one of the trysts and nearly cutting the beast in two. Then, maintaining his forward momentum, he drew his long hunting knife, and dove right into the second tryst with his two powerful arms extended in front of him. His weapon was pitiful against such a creature, but he knew he could at least stop the beast from ripping into Jonas’s back.

  They crashed into each other and tumbled across the mist covered ground. Evryn fought to subdue the beast so he could stab it with his knife, but it was like trying to hold back an angry lion. Clawed hands raked his body and more than one found openings in his armor. He saw the beast lunge forward with its powerful jaws and he did the only thing he could do. He lifted his arm to protect his face.

  The Tryst clamped onto Evryn’s arm and bit down hard. The power of its jaw was incredible. He felt sharp teeth slice easily through his flesh and heard the sound of his bones being crushed as if they were dried twigs. Shaking its head viciously, the beast continued to cut and tear into Evryn’s arm. And unfortunately it was the arm that was holding his knife. Screaming in pain, Evryn punched the animal with his free hand, but it did little damage. Finally the tryst jerked its head hard, taking Evryn’s arm off just below the shoulder.

  Evryn’s screams caused Jonas to glance backwards. He could only hold the mist back for a few more moments and it was going to be now or never. Jonas blanched at what he saw. A tryst lifted its huge head from the mist and Jonas clearly saw Vern’s arm dangling from it.

  Then he saw Evryn jump from the mist with a second smaller dagger in his only hand. “Go!” he screamed. Blood sprayed into the air from his mortal wound, but it didn’t stop him from plunging the dagger into the thing’s neck as they crashed together, tumbling into the dense fog again.

  Another beast emerged from the brush, attracted by Evryn’s blood, and dove into the fog with an eager howl. Jonas heard more chilling screams followed by more screeches as a handful of trysts emerged from the brush to join their feeding comrades.

  Jonas knew it was time to go. He sprinted towards the hill, leaping and dodging steaming pits of black water. As he dispersed the cognivant energy behind him, the dense fog drifted in, quickly closing off the path.

  He ran up the hill, climbing over several large rocks to get to the plateau where everyone waited for him. They had formed a perimeter and everyone was looking fearfully down into the fog.

  “Nice work, Cavalier. But what of Evryn?” asked the king, gripping his hand and helping him up the last rock.

  “I’m sorry, Sire. He died trying to protect my back,” Jonas replied, clearly in pain. His head throbbed and he stumbled forward on shaky legs.

  “Are you hurt?” asked the king, catching Jonas in his strong arms and holding him upright.

  “I am fine. My powers…there is a…side…effect,” Jonas muttered, doing his best to shake off the pain in his head, finally standing up straighter.

  More screeches snapped their attention to the mist and the forest around them.

  “We cannot run! Therefore we fight! We must kill them all or die in this dark place! Prepare yourselves!” Allindrian shouted.

  Everyone readied their weapons, gazing out into the dense fog. Jonas drank from his water skin, breathing deeply, trying to lessen the ache in his skull. Using his cognivant powers within the Hallows seemed to exponentially increase the side effects, causing him more pain than normal. He sought the place within himself to calm his mind; he sought Ty’erm, and gradually he found it.

  As his breathing slowed and he concentrated on the pounding of his heart, the ache in his head gradually began to recede. He opened his eyes, releasing his breath slowly. The headache was still there, but it had lessened significantly. He had pushed it away, burying it deeper in his mind.

  Jonas sheathed his blades, unslinging his bow that was strapped to his back. Nocking an arrow he looked into the mist for a target.

  The screeching was getting louder and ghostly shapes flitted in and out of their vision as the trysts traversed through the dangerous mist toward them. Occasionally they would hear a splash and a sucking sound followed by a quick shriek. But more and more trysts emerged from the brush, moving into the fog with little fear. They had tasted blood, and they wanted more.

  “Jonas, stay here!” the king roared so all could hear, “I will take the west side! Allindrian, you take the south side! We must hold the circle!”

  Everyone found their positions with Fil, Kilius, and Myrell flanking Jonas. He could see that Myrell was frightened. Her wide eyes and shaking sword arm betrayed her. Jonas reached out and touched her hand reassuringly. “Myrell, stay behind me. If any get through our defenses then strike them with your sword. You understand?”

  She nodded her head, but said not a word, her eyes wide with fright. Jonas could feel her fear. He wanted to tell her that it was going to be okay and that he would not let anything happen to her, but he couldn’t. Taleen had died right next to him and she was a cavalier. What chance did a farm girl who was a novice sword wielder have against these beasts?

  “Go ahead, move back,” he said softly. She smiled nervously, stepping back behind them.

  Kilius moved closer to Jonas, filling in the gap and doing his best to protect his sister. Neither of them wanted to see Myrell succumb to those horrific jaws.

  “We hold them here! Harness your fear, and release it with every strike! Let them feel the power of our steel!” The king yelled in encouragement, his powerful and confident voice lifting Jonas’s spirits.

  Suddenly the fighting began.

  Trysts scurried from the mist with abandon, shrieking and howling, quickly scampering up the steep hill from all sides. Their powerful long arms and short muscular legs allowed them to easily climb the rocky hill.

  They were met with walls of arrows as the men with bows fired into the howling beasts. Many died instantly, flying back into the mist, but there were too many of them, and it didn’t take long for the men to drop their bows, drawing their blades as the trysts advanced.

  Jonas’s first arrow took a howling tryst in its open mouth, propelling it back into the mist. He fired his arrows with speed and precision and not one beast got close to them.

  “Time to die!” Durgen roared like a madman, swiping his axe through the throat of a tryst as it pulled itself up the rock face at the dwarf’s feet. The beast fell back into another one and Durgen kicked a third in the face as it, too, reached for the edge of the rock. His metal shod boot smashed through its teeth, the force of the kick throwing the tryst off the rock as if it had been fired from a catapult.

  As more and more trysts scampered up the hill, more bowmen were forced to drop their bows for close combat weapons. Fil and Jonas worked their blades left and right, cutting and jabbing at any creature that moved toward them. There were so many of them, at least fifty, much more than Jonas had originally thought. For every one they killed it seemed two more took its place.

  One tryst lunged forward, managing to clamp its long arm onto Kilius’s ankle as the young man battled another beast. Kilius was jerked from his feet, landing hard on the ground, the back of his
head slamming into the dirt.

  “No!” Myrell screamed behind them.

  Jonas glanced nervously to his right, hearing Myrell’s scream. He cursed silently as he saw the young man go down. Instantly he called for his God Light and his body flared brightly, his light blanketing the entire clearing. The trysts had no eyes so the light did nothing, and since they were not inherently evil, just animals in a strange place who wanted to feed, the light did not harm them as it would creatures of a truly evil nature.

  But the light did have an effect on the men. As the light bathed them their fear gave way to increased strength and confidence. Their swords and axes suddenly seemed lighter and they moved more fluidly, their senses alert and their hearts pounding with new hope.

  Myrell, too, felt the power of Jonas’s light, and the fear that had paralyzed her disappeared like morning dew in the hot sun. She jumped forward, skewering the tryst that had attacked her brother. The animal was just about to clamp its jaws on Kilius’s exposed leg when its plan was foiled by Myrell’s sharp steel. The beast screeched, jerking its head sideways and yanking the blade from her hand as it fell over dead.

  Kilius struggled to get up as another tryst tried to jump on him. He met the animal with a straight kick to its chest, launching the beast backwards. Then he quickly scrambled to his feet. He had no time to thank his sister as two more trysts emerged from the mist below him.

  On the other side of the circle Allindrian fought brilliantly. Her silver sword was a blur as it spun and danced from one tryst to another. The sound of her blade hummed in the clearing and its music gave strength to the men who fought nearby.

  Several men had gone down as the beasts swarmed toward them. Their circle tightened and shrank as the small group of warriors closed the gaps where their comrades had fallen.

  Trysts were piling up near the king’s feet as he cut them down like grain in a field of wheat. The king swung his great sword with one hand and completely cut a tryst in half, at the same time catching movement in his peripheral vision. Turning quickly, he saw a tryst fly at him, its great mouth open, ready to tear his face off. Kromm had no time to bring his sword to bear, so he simply shot his giant arm forward, catching the beast in the neck with his massive hand. In an incredible feat of strength, Kromm held the beast several feet off the ground, continuing to tighten his grip on the ferocious animal. The tryst howled, snapping its huge jaws down again and again as it struggled in the giant man’s iron grip. It managed to rake its deadly claws over the king’s arm and several found flesh under his metal forearm guards. Lines of crimson appeared as the sharp claws tore at his flesh.

  Kromm, ignoring the pain, squeezed harder, simultaneously ramming his blade into the body of another creature. His forearm rippled and his hand turned white as the pressure pushed blood from his fingers into his engorged muscles. It didn’t have a chance. Its neck finally snapped and Kromm flung the beast into several other advancing trysts as if it were nothing more than a dead bird.

  Jonas and the circle of warriors closed further as several more of their men succumbed to the relentless attacks of the trysts. Their comrades watched in horror as they were dragged down the hill screaming and crying for help. But they could do nothing as they were all battling to stay alive themselves. The screams of the dying men didn’t last long as the trysts quickly ripped into them, howling into the night with Tarsinian blood dripping from their terrible jaws.

  Jonas had a quick reprieve from the fight as he whipped his razor sharp blade across the neck of a tryst. He had relinquished his light in order to save his energy, and the oppressive darkness of the place again descended on them. He wanted to bring it forth again, but decided against it. He may need all his strength later.

  Dandronis, meanwhile, was struggling to hold back two of the creatures. They seemed to sense the movement of his sword arm and they both darted in as an opening presented itself. He was tiring and his arm was beginning to feel heavy. Parrying one of the tryst’s attacks, he sliced a deep cut across the beast’s arm. The animal shrieked in pain, but the move cost Dandronis, as his right foot slipped on a loose rock and he stumbled to his knee. The trysts were on him immediately.

  One raked its claws across his shoulder, but luckily his dwarven armor protected him. He swatted the other with the flat of his blade, hastily trying to regain his footing. The tryst took the flat of the blade on its upraised arm, but it did little damage, and the creature dove forward with its razor sharp teeth leading the way. The tryst hit Dandronis in the chest, but he dove backwards, rolling with the beast and coming up on top of the scrambling creature.

  The tryst used all four legs to cut into Dandronis, but again his armor saved him and he only received a few cuts. The tryst, however, didn’t fare so well. Dandronis had dropped his sword but as he rolled with the beast he had drawn his hunting knife and as he came up on top of the animal he slammed the long blade into the side of its head. It shook briefly in its death throes before lying still under the bleeding warrior.

  But just as Dandronis withdrew the knife he felt the weight of the other beast on his back. Pain shot through him as sharp teeth closed over the side of his head. He cried out, feeling the long needle sharp teeth clamp down on the side of his face. Then, miraculously, he felt the teeth withdraw and the weight lifted from his back just as quickly as it had arrived.

  Dandronis was hoisted up by one hand. He turned to see his king standing by him holding a bloody sword. He smiled his thanks, reaching down for his sword that was lying on the ground. Then he noticed the blood. It started to pour down the side of his face and under his armor. It felt thick and wet, but he felt no pain. Luckily there were no more trysts coming at them. He tried using the end of his cloak to wipe away some of the blood. But there was a lot of it, and as he tried to stem the flow his head grew light as it drained from his body.

  “Let me help you,” the king said while he scanned the mist for more attackers. With no enemies near them, he ripped a piece of cloth from his cloak and held it firmly to Dandronis’s wounds.

  Jonas and Allindrian were not so lucky. A score of trysts came howling up the hill for one last charge. There were few men left and Jonas wanted to end the fight quickly. He decided to bring forth his magic one last time. The power began to emerge deep within him, and as he built up the strength of it, he held it in check until the trysts were just a few paces away. Then, releasing it through one blade, he shot blue God Fire forward, engulfing the creatures as they tried to get at the tired defenders. They died quickly in the hot fire, and when Jonas finally extinguished the flames an eerie silence engulfed them.

  Jonas glanced to his left and right, seeing the remaining survivors standing among the dead, their bloody weapons held before them. Exhausted and breathing heavily, they scanned the mist with eyes still alert for danger. Jonas was relieved to see that Durgen had survived. The burly dwarf stepped up to him, his axe and shield smeared with blood. Despite the fact that he, too, was splattered with crimson, he looked as if he had come through the battle relatively unscathed. His long flowing beard, now matted with blood, did little to mask the smile under his unruly hair.

  “Nice work, Cavalier, but you took away the sport.”

  “I’m sure there will be more, Trader Durgen,” Jonas replied, as he glanced at Fil, Kilius, and Myrell to make sure they were okay. They had suffered some cuts and bruises, but otherwise they were fine.

  “Cavalier, we need you!” shouted the king from the other side of the hill.

  Jonas ran to him, jumping over several dead trysts and Tarsinian men to get there. He found the king kneeling over Dandronis.

  Jonas knelt next to them and examined the wounded warrior. Puncture wounds surrounded the side of his head in a large semicircle. It was obvious that a tryst had bitten the warrior, but luckily, for whatever reason, was not able to finish the job.

  Dandronis was conscious, but he was rapidly losing blood.

  “Am I to die?” Dandronis asked softly.

 
; “ No,” Jonas replied simply, laying his hands on the warrior. Instantly the heat of the healing magic answered his call and he sent it into the warrior searching for the deep wounds. Jonas quickly sealed the cuts and fused his damaged blood vessels. The flow of blood abruptly stopped, and Dandronis opened his tired eyes.

  “I’m glad I don’t have to die in this place,” he said with a little more strength.

  Jonas opened his eyes, removing his hands from the warrior. He was tired and the use of his powers combined with the oppressive feeling of the place seemed to suck the remaining energy from him. He stood up, looking around at his surroundings. Many were dead, but he counted six survivors as well as Fil, Myrell, Durgen, Allindrian, Dandronis, and the king. The ground was littered with at least fifty trysts. Jonas spent a few moments healing any other warriors that had any serious wounds, including the king, who was bleeding badly from the lacerations on his arm. Luckily his forearm guard had protected most of his arm, but the beast’s nasty claws still managed to find some exposed flesh.

  “We have to go, and now,” Allindrian said, moving next to Jonas. Her face and clothes were splattered with blood but her eyes shone with fire. “More trysts may be coming. Or worse, the battle may have attracted something else, something bigger.”

  “Then let us go,” replied the king, hefting Dandronis to his feet.

  They hastily collected the water, bows and arrows, and food from their dead comrades, and were off down the hill and through the mist covered swamp in a matter of moments. They were all exhausted, but the need for survival kept them moving.

  The day dragged on as Allindrian guided them through the dark. Was it night? No one could tell in the Hallows. The bluish light did not change. The landscape was filled with more wicked looking trees, and the brush was covered with moss and thorns. The mist didn’t relent either, and it continued to coldly caress their tired legs as they pushed further into the Hallows. They were forced to take a few quick breaks for water and quick rations, but other than that they didn’t stop for many hours.