"What's with all the gifts?" I asked.
He looked at me with great seriousness. "I need your help."
"My help?"
"We were about to ask the same of you," Alara said, as she sat and began putting on her boots.
"Really?" Cormac studied the three of us for a moment. "So, you've heard?"
"The Dark One's men," Nithia said. "Yes."
Cormac nodded. "It was only a matter of time." He looked around at the interior of his inn. A few people sat at one of the tables, nursing their drinks and talking amongst themselves. I could tell none of them would stand a chance against a seasoned fighter.
But I'm no fighter either. Still, I know I can do this. Something's different now.
I glanced to Alara and Nithia. Love that sex magic.
"I traveled as far from the carnage as I could get," Cormac said. "I knew my respite couldn't last forever. He nodded toward his customers across the room. "They're the ones I feel sorry for. It's a small town. Maybe fifty people. Simple folk. This is all they've known. And death is riding for them… but they have no idea."
"We need to warn them," Nithia said with a sense of urgency.
"She's right," I said. "Everyone in town should have a chance, a chance to leave, or prepare, or…"
"Make peace with their gods," Cormac said, looking at Alara.
He knows she's a priestess.
I placed my hand on Cormac's shoulder. "It doesn't have to come to that."
"How many men do you think are coming?" he asked.
"Maybe twenty, or more," Alara said, pushing herself up with her staff. "That's what my friend said."
Cormac looked at her. "Who's your friend?"
"Senia, the elder."
"Ah, yes," he said. "She would know."
"She'd only just heard," Alara said. "Someone in Watsel managed to send the message with one of Senia's birds."
"We'll be waiting for them," I said.
Alara leaned over the table and gestured with her hand, as if she were drawing a map. "There's a narrow passage on the way in."
"The sheer cliffs." Cormac agreed with her idea.
I placed my fist on the table where Alara was pointing. "That's where we'll stop them."
We put on the rest of the items Cormac had given us and Nithia set off to warn everyone. She was accompanied by two workers from the inn—a young man, who was entirely too scrawny to fight, and the red-headed nineteen-year-old who'd thanked me for answering her room service delivery with a stiff one in my shorts.
Thirty minutes later, Alara, Cormac, and I were leaning against the rock face of one side of the sheer cliffs at the southern path into the valley.
I looked at Cormac. "I've been meaning to tell you."
He answered, still looking to the land beyond the cliffs. "What's that?"
"I seem to have broken your bed, in the room you let us stay in."
His chest jolted as he coughed up a laugh. After a couple of seconds, he looked at me and then to Alara. "You did, did you?"
I took what he was thinking. "That's not exactly-"
"Don't worry about it, friend," he said. He started laughing again, and spoke as he did. "We might all be dead before tonight. So, maybe we don't need a bed."
He kept laughing. He looked proud of the joke he'd made.
Fuckin' hilarious.
I shook my head slowly in disbelief. He quieted after a few moments and we all went back to listening to the wind.
I turned the sword in my hand, admiring the blade. Cormac had given the weapon to me. He brought a double-sided axe for himself, the handle of which was four feet long—the bladed head a foot and a half. It was next to him, leaning against the rock too. The sword he'd given me had carvings on the hilt and a sphere at the bottom of the grip. The blade was long and broad. I knew if I'd held it before I'd undergone my physical transformation it would have been too hefty for me to handle, but it felt right in my strong hand. Cormac said he acquired it in the course of one of his expeditions on the other side of the Sea of Ronak. I wondered who else had wielded it and to what end. I was curious about what the carvings meant. They included some writing, but I couldn’t read it. He claimed he couldn't remember exactly whose sword it had been.
The cool wind blew between the cliffs, but I didn't mind with the cloak on.
I gazed into the distance. The narrow passage we were in ran for a hundred feet before opening onto a plain. There were fewer trees to the south. The ground sloped gently downward, hiding a portion of the land before rising again at least half a mile away.
"How long?" I asked.
Cormac pointed to the rising land in the distance. "We'll see them there."
The day was short because we were down in the valley. Twenty minutes later dusk was upon us.
I looked back toward the town—a thirty-minute walk away. Few lights. They'd wisely put out most of the fires. Better for hiding.
I hope Nithia stays safe.
Alara must have seen the concern in my face. "She knows how to take care of herself," Alara said.
I looked at her, gauging the truth of her words by her eyes. "She's more cunning than I first thought," I said. "That much is certain."
I turned my attention back to the distant patch of land where our enemy was expected soon.
Strange. Only a few days in this world and I feel more like I belong here by the hour.
I glanced down at my powerful chest pushing open the middle of my cloak, then I raised the sword I was holding a few inches, looking at the blade again.
Who am I?
Cormac bumped my shoulder, jolting me out of my introspection. "You do know how to swing one of those, don't you?" He laughed.
Clearly he meant it as a joke. He had no idea how valid a question he'd just asked.
Alara reached her hand over and stroked my face. I had a heavy five-o'clock shadow and her gentle touch tickled my skin as the short growth bristled. "He is a true warrior. A champion. Any weapon in his hand is deadly to his enemies."
I think I raised my eyebrows and widened my eyes, but I managed not to say anything to refute her over-the-top claim.
Way to put the pressure on, babe. Thanks for that.
Cormac bellowed, "Good to hear!"
My intellect told me I should be scared as shit. It also told me I couldn't know how to wield a sword, since this was the first sword I'd held—not counting the wooden one I bought at a renaissance festival a few years back.
But my gut—my barbarian badass muscled-over gut—told me I was ready. I'd achieved the pinnacle of my life last night with Alara and Nithia. A week earlier I'd have laughed until I puked if you said I'd be in bed with two beautiful women—not once, but twice—before Saturday. I knew anything was possible.
Maybe last night did all she said it would.
I looked at Alara. Her breasts rose out of the opening in the middle of the cloak like two voluptuous thinly blanketed mountains—summits I'd reached. Hell, reached? I planted a flag and called them my own. No. She offered them to me. Her. She offered herself to me. She trusted me.
I looked to the land we'd been watching. The enemy was there, riding beasts—not horses, something more…devilish.
Damned if they're going to harm my girls! My captivating surprising women.
"There!" Cormac shouted, stepping out toward the middle of the fifteen-foot-wide passageway, apparently to get a better view.
"I see them," Alara said, pushing herself away from the rock behind her.
My blood simmered. I watched the riders make their way across the plain. They'd be here soon enough.
"Den." Alara sounded surprised. "You look…"
"Yeah," I said. I could feel the blood in my body priming my muscles for action.
I raised my sword in front of me, turning the blade once more. It felt like an extension of my will. I was ready.
Chapter 10
Five of them rode out front, first up the slope nearest us. If they were men, it was only b
ecause they had arms and legs, and roughly looked so. Their faces were hideous, scarred and disfigured, wisps of hair in patches around the sides. I heard their grunts and wet smacking wild cries for blood.
They each rode with one hand on the long mane of their beast and the other wielding a weapon—black iron, a mace, a sword, an axe, a spear.
Howard might've dreamed these guys up. I quickly recollected some of the enemies my favorite Cimmerian faced in the original books.
The relentless creatures they used as mounts were hell-spawn to be sure. As muscular as oxen, they moved and looked like wolves—triple-sized-matted-hair wolves. The beasts' mouths hung open, gnarled two-inch fangs jutting out misaligned. A haze moved with them as the powerful legs of the black-haired animals kicked against the ground.
Cormac and I took the center position between the cliffs, giving ourselves room to swing our weapons freely without striking each other. I quickly glanced at Alara. She stood back several feet and struck the top of a large buried flat rock with the bottom of her silver staff. The impact brought forth a brief flash of light from the stone atop her staff. I caught a glimpse of her eyes glowing before I turned back to face the enemy.
The five dark riders looked strong, fierce, savage.
We waited for them to come to us.
I held my sword at the ready with both hands. I'd taken a spot just behind and slightly to the side of a large rock, which evidently had cleaved from the cliff and fallen into the roadway. I knew it would slow the riders as they came within the reach of my blade.
A cold wind blew, bringing with it the creatures' stench.
Cormac stood to my left with the blades of his heavy axe resting on the ground to his right. He also held his weapon with both hands. He looked ready to swing it upward at the first to test him.
My heart pumped strong and fast, but I felt steady. My breaths were audible, rushing air into my lungs, charging my muscles.
What was a low rumble grew into a thunderous sound as the great leathery paws of the giant wolves pounded the ground, bringing the dark riders closer and closer.
Man, would this make a great painting, or what?
I shook the distracting thought from my head and squeezed the grip of my sword. And waited.
If such a foul band were running across my college campus for me a few days ago, I'd have been running away screaming like everyone else. Even yesterday, I might have done the same, or at least avoided the fight at all costs. But I had changed. I was Den.
Den the Conqueror. Summoned to a distant world to be the guardian for- Oh, shit! Focus, man.
The five came well before the others. They had ridden ahead, probably not expecting any substantial resistance. After all, stories of the horrors inflicted by the Dark One's men preceded them everywhere. They came to kill and plunder, to terrorize and take life and hope from the land.
They should have waited for the rest of their band of raiders to join them before riding between the cliffs, but then, that's why we chose this spot, to thin out the assault we would face. So, perhaps it wouldn't have made a difference.
The first dark rider veered around the rock in front of me and swung his mace in a wide arc, leaning forward as the weapon came toward my head. I lunged toward the heavy spiked metal ball, dropping to my knees and sliding under it on the dirt and rock. As the rider passed me, I ripped upward along the side of his beast with my sword, slicing into the creature's chest and severing the rider's foot from his ankle. Blood spewed as the demon-wolf howled in pain. The man screamed. His mace flew from his hand and struck the gray stone of the cliff face. The two of them crashed into the ground and tumbled and slid. I didn't see how far. I heard bones crack and his scream drown with a gurgling sound.
I tumbled onto my right shoulder as I rolled from the momentum. I saw Cormac's axe cleaving into the open maw of one of the black-haired beasts. Then I turned to face whichever dark minion was next. As soon as I'd spun around to deal with another attack I found myself almost trampled by one of the giant beasts, which had leapt toward me. I was still squatting and the creature's front paws were driving down toward my head.
There was a flash of light and a loud crashing sound followed by a crackle. I was momentarily blinded by what I realized was Alara using the magic of her staff.
Knowing I was about to be struck by the trampling legs of the massive wolf-beast, I thrust my sword upward in front of me, rising from my kneeling position as I did. I felt the weight of the creature as my blade pierced its hide and moved into its inner flesh. Turning slightly I heaved my sword higher and carried the beast with its rider into the air. Working with the momentum of the two, I hurled them overhead and behind me until the hellish animal's body was flung off the end of my blade, but not before being clawed just inside of my shoulder, dangerously close to my neck. I nearly dropped my sword from the pain.
I saw the dark rider's head hit the ground first, fracturing into several bloody chunks. The black-haired beast fell on top of him.
I wiped one hand across my neck to make sure I wasn't going to bleed out—or at least not too quickly. My hand was mostly clean of blood when I looked at it. I knew I could continue.
The smell of burning hair and flesh invaded my nose. I turned quickly back to find the next enemy, flinging the coating of blood from my sword as I moved. A lifeless mound of beast and rider burned ten feet in front of me. I glanced to my left. Cormac stepped onto the back of the second giant wolf he'd slain and swung his axe blade down onto the man atop the creature before he could strike Cormac with his sword.
I looked to Alara. She nodded to me. Five raiders down. Their mounts slain too. My breathing was heavy, but I still had plenty of fight in me.
The other riders were getting close. I doubted they'd seen the deaths of the first five. I looked at the slain men and beasts. They'll trip up the others well.
"Wow," I said to myself. "Never thought I could." I always thought taking a life was something way beyond what I was capable of doing. I certainly never wanted to do it. The worst I'd ever considered doing was punching that jackass who knocked one of the pool chairs into the water when I was doing my morning after-party cleanup. I didn't, of course. Punch him, I mean. And now?
This is different. They were going to murder the innocent people of Darguna.
By the end of that quick conversation inside my head, I realized I had let go of the naive idea I could get through life without crossing any lines. I had crossed the line now, and—knowing what would have happened if I hadn't—I didn't regret it. I wasn't blood-thirsty, but I knew going forward, I would take down anyone or any creature I had to stop to protect myself or the people I cared about. And if I didn't, I would die trying.
The rest of the Dark One's men came at us all at once, a dozen. I was relieved we'd been misinformed as to how many there were. Then I laughed at the fact I felt relieved, while twelve more crooked-fanged matted monster wolves and the even uglier men—still not sure if they were—riding them charged us. Still, seventeen is better than a couple dozen.
Deep down I knew there was still a healthy dose of fear in me. Making light of the situation was a way of coping. I lapsed into a moment of doubt, wondering if I'd been lucky getting through the first ones. I knew I couldn't turn away now, but I questioned whether my newfound confidence was the result of self-delusion. The sting of my wound near my shoulder shook me back to the reality of the moment. No time for deep thoughts.
The horde approached. Can you call a dozen a horde? Anyway, they were coming. Loud. Nasty. And now that they could see we'd killed their buddies—pissed.
The three of us did that quick glance-to-each-other-and-nod-your-head thing. I was a little worried about Alara. No. I was plenty worried about Alara. But I saw the stone atop her staff glowing still. Good. She's got some juice left.
"Den!" The voice was faint. Coming from far behind me, toward the town.
"Den!" I heard it again as a looked back and saw someone waving. There were seven others
beside her. They each were carrying something. They were so far away, I couldn't tell at first who they were or what they were holding. They started running toward us.
"It's Nithia!" she called out to me. "We're here to help."
She and four of the others with her had bows in their hands, quivers on their backs. The other three people had spears.
"Way to go, Nithia," Alara said, though not actually loud enough for Nithia to hear her so far away.
Full of surprises, aren't you, Nithia?
"I am impressed," Cormac said. I glanced to him and he was grinning. "Both of your women fight for you."
I rolled my eyes.
"I fight," Alara said, "because it's the right thing to do."
She's right.
Nithia and the others—one of which was the nineteen-year-old redhead from room service—reached us just as the dark riders did. With Cormac and I taking the middle of the narrow passage, Nithia and her archers and spearmen lined up on either side, keeping their distance, but getting a clear line of sight to the raiders. When the riders on their beasts were close enough, Nithia's gang let loose their arrows and spears, most striking their targets because there simply wasn't much of anywhere else the barrage could land—and they came in as a crossfire. When the first few were struck, they veered and collided into the ones next to them. The ensuing nine-wolf pileup was a sight to behold. Cormac and I each took out one of those who managed to make it past the crash. Alara blasted the mound of coarse black hair-covered flesh with her lightning-in-a-stick trick. Cormac hurried to the burning pile and whacked into whichever parts moved. More arrows flew into the mass of would-be terrorizers—triggering more sounds of pain to add to those already happening. I knew there were broken bones aplenty. It looked as if not a rider in the wreckage had escaped the crushing weight of one of the beasts.
I readied my sword for the lone rider who made it through unscathed. He was charging for me.
Thwip.
Air blew across my cheek as an arrow whipped past me. It struck between the black eyes of the rider heading for me. His head shot back and his beast staggered as the man fell to the side, his hands still wrapped with the long hair of the creature's mane.
Dennis the Conqueror: A Harem Fantasy (Sword and Sorority Book 1) Page 8