Benjamin Ashwood Series: Books 1-3 (Benjamin Box)

by AC Cobble

  Crashes and howls spread down the line as more of the flying demons smacked into the wall of steel.

  Another one hit nearby and landed wounded on their platform. Ben and Rhys darted forward, swords raised to finish it.

  Shaking the purple blood off his longsword, Rhys clapped Ben on the back. “Good suggestion with the polearms.”

  The sounds of battle filled the air but not enough to cover the creak and heavy thump of a catapult firing. Two more sounded from different parts of the wall.

  The sergeant ran forward to peer between two merlons.

  “Damn,” he called back to his artillery team. “Fire!”

  The sergeant started back to help his men, but a black shape flew down and landed on his back. Long claws wrapped around his neck and tore into his throat while the demon rode his falling body to the stone floor.

  Crimson blood sprayed out across the platform. Rhys was there before the creature could turn to anyone else. His longsword plunged into its chest.

  The rogue glanced where the sergeant had been looking then yelled at the men around him, “You! Get your polearms up, they’re still coming in.” Addressing the catapult crew, he barked, “Fire freely. The flying ones are just a distraction. They’re coming!”

  Ben lunged to the edge and looked below. Across the plain, a black swarm was approaching in the flickering light of the failing bonfires. In the dark, he couldn’t hope to count them. The little light that was left down there started to go out. Black shapes trampled over the fires and extinguished them.

  At the gate, flaming bales were pushed over the side of the wall just in time to see a monster the size of four oxen come charging in to pound against the iron barrier. The entire wall shook with the impact. Two more followed right behind it. The three creatures vanished back into the night. The gate still held. Ben knew it wouldn’t hold much longer. It was designed to withstand whatever a human army could throw at it. This was something out of a nightmare.

  The catapult thumped behind Ben and the heavy iron balls went flying into the darkness. They couldn’t see where they landed or what the damage was, but Ben knew they would hit something. The entire field was crawling.

  Time for watching the attack below vanished when three more man-sized flying demons came hurtling at their platform.

  One collided with the small forest of steel-tipped polearms, knocking them to the side. That cleared space for the other two demons to land in the midst of the men.

  Still gripping the tall wooden hafts of the polearms, men were ripped to shreds before Ben, Rhys, and half a dozen other swordsmen arrived.

  Slipping to a stop on the blood-soaked stone, Ben lashed out at one of the creatures along with another man. Both of them cut into its flesh, but in the twisted tangle of man and beast, they couldn’t get a clean strike. The demon pivoted, reaching for the other man. That gave Ben an opening. He thrust his mage-wrought longsword home. The blade plunged easily into the demon’s heart. Twisting his weapon as he brought it out, Ben jumped back from the purple fountain of blood that splashed down to mingle with that of the dead men.

  The soldier nodded his thanks to Ben then turned back to scanning the sky.

  Stretcher-bearers rushed forward for the wounded men and corpses.

  Rhys took charge of the platform. With the sergeant dead, no one thought to challenge the rogue’s right to command them. They saw the silver glow of the glyphs on his longsword and knew not to argue.

  He set half the men to hold the unbroken polearms they had left. The others he put on sword duty to handle any demons that landed. He admonished the catapult crew to fire faster, demanding that they fling more heavy iron over the walls.

  “Every demon you hit is one less we have to fight hand to hand,” he yelled.

  Ben looked around for Amelie and found her standing now, bent over one of the baskets of iron balls.

  “This one,” she instructed the catapult crew. “Fire from this basket.”

  “What did you do?” asked Ben. He moved to stand beside her but kept his gaze upward. In the black night, they would only have a heartbeat to react if a demon got in past the polearms.

  “Wait and see,” she said, breathing heavily. She pulled her rapier and dagger, but they both knew the light weapons would be a last resort and only used if the soldiers got overwhelmed.

  The catapult crew loaded the arm again, pulling iron balls from Amelie’s basket. Out of the corner of his eye, Ben caught her wince when a man dropped one of the balls into the catapult’s hand.

  As soon as the last ball was loaded, the men yanked a lever and the arm snapped forward. The scattering of iron soared out into the fields beyond the wall. Ben kept his eyes toward the sky, but his concentration broke when a violent eruption happened out in the field.

  One after another, bursts of flame flashed like fireworks. They illuminated a scrambling horde of demons trying to get away from the explosions. In the sharp light, Ben saw pieces of iron fly out from each blast and shred the nearby demons into tatters of ugly meat. Ten paces around each explosion was a carpet of dead demons.

  Rhys looked at Amelie, wild-eyed. “Can you do that again?” he shouted.

  She pointed to the pile of balls the catapult crew was now very gingerly loading. “This entire basket is primed. I think I can do more. It should be faster now that I know what I’m doing.”

  “What are you waiting for?” demanded Rhys.

  She frowned then scurried around the rest of the ammunition, briefly laying a hand on top of each pile and concentrating.

  Loud cracks and explosions in the field after each time the catapult launched signified her work wasn’t going in vain.

  Rhys looked around then waved to her. “Come on. Let’s get to another catapult and see what you can do there.”

  He left instructions with the men and sent a runner for reinforcements. That catapult was now the most destructive weapon in Northport’s arsenal. It was critical to keep it firing.

  Ben rushed after Rhys and Amelie as they darted between soldiers to the next catapult. The wall shook beneath his feet. He knew the huge demons were again charging the gate. Too bad they couldn’t hit one of them with Amelie’s exploding iron.

  At the next catapult, confusion reigned.

  The stones were slick from blood and half the defenders were missing. Rhys gestured to Amelie and she crouched by the waiting ammunition stores.

  Ben grimaced when he saw none of the men were raising polearms. There were no officers left alive that he could see.

  He and Rhys strode forward, but before Rhys could bark out orders, a black shape crashed into the back of one of the men. The fallen soldier went sprawling forward and his companions rushed to defend against the new attacker.

  Rhys and Ben started to help as well, but out of the corner of his eye, Ben caught something coming between the merlons of the battlement.

  He turned to find a lithe, long-limbed creature pulling itself onto the wall.

  “Behind you!” shouted Ben.

  Rhys turned just in time to see the beast gain its footing and charge forward.

  One of the soldiers stepped between Rhys and the demon only to have his head torn off by a brawny black arm.

  Rhys jumped forward, slashing his sword and severing one of the long arms. He then ducked the other as the demon swung at his head. Rhys rose from his crouch, slicing his glowing silver longsword across the creature’s stomach. It fell backward to tangle with two more like it.

  Ben charged, hurtling over the fallen body of the soldier and stabbing into one of the demons before it gained its footing. His mage-wrought blade slid in easily, and the demon screamed, falling backward into the darkness.

  “Let’s go!” cried Amelie from near the ammunition cache.

  From the way the catapult crew was loading the iron, Ben could tell she’d told them what would happen. The men could see the brilliant explosions from the first catapult.

  With a last, quick instruction to the remain
ing men on the wall, Rhys started off toward another catapult platform with Ben and Amelie in tow.

  They heard a thump and series of loud explosions behind them as the catapult arm launched a wave of death out into the field. Ben thought he could hear screams of pain and terror out there, but they were drowned out by the ones close by.

  The wall shuddered again, followed by a painful screech of torn metal. Rhys paused halfway to the next catapult platform.

  “If they break through that gate…” He snarled.

  “Go,” demanded Amelie. “I can get to these catapults on my own. They need your sword.”

  “Amelie,” Ben started to protest.

  She cut him off.

  “If the demons break through those gates, the fighting will be focused in the streets, not up here. Go!” She pushed past them, jogging to the next platform.

  Grim-faced, Rhys turned and waved for Ben to follow. “You ready for this?” he asked.

  Running after him, Ben panted, “For what?”

  Rhys pointed ahead, down below the wall. Ben saw a huge demon forcing its way through the broken gate. Sharp, torn metal scored its side, leaving deep purple gashes. A broken log jutted out from one shoulder. The huge beast surged forward despite its injuries, clearing the gate and stumbling into the streets of Northport.

  A wave of arrows and crossbow bolts flew down into it, but the one big creature was a small problem compared to the horde that flowed around it. Smaller demons flooded the streets.

  “Here,” said Rhys, stepping off the wall and onto a flight of stairs leading down. They would get to ground level two blocks away from where the demons were racing in.

  Makeshift barriers and walls had been erected to steer the demons into cul-de-sacs, which would be used for killing grounds, but the big demons that had attacked the gate could smash through those barriers easily.

  Ben realized the battle plan was falling apart.

  In the streets, confused, panicked men rushed by in both directions. No one thought the attackers would so easily penetrate the walls. The idea had been to keep them outside and whittle down their numbers with the artillery and arrows. Close quarters battle with so many demons could be catastrophic.

  Ben stayed close on his friend’s heels as they weaved closer to the fighting. Ahead, he could see a temporary wall silhouetted by firelight.

  The wall burst inward with explosive force. A shower of broken timber and bodies rained onto the street in front of them.

  A huge demon stood square in the middle of where the wall once stood. It took one slow step forward and men turned in a flock and fled. The demon was larger than the arch-demons they’d faced in the Wilds, but it moved sluggishly, like it was moving through honey. It was strong though, strong enough to smash through the wall Rhymer’s men had built.

  Rhys squared his feet and in a booming yell screamed, “Behind me! Hold your ground.”

  His longsword flared to light, filling the street with a soft white glow.

  Ben stepped up beside him, eyes focused ahead on the massive demon.

  He could hear the clatter of armor as men arrested their flight and started to form up behind them.

  The demon bellowed a deep cry, which shook Ben’s bones, and then started forward. He could feel the heavy steps through the stone street.

  Rhys charged ahead, running straight at the demon. Ben cringed. The creature had to be three times as tall and five times as wide as a man.

  Ben groaned and followed Rhys, unwilling to let his friend do this alone.

  The beast rose to its full height, roaring at the men filling the street in front of it. Rhys kept going, heading directly beneath the creature and scampering between its legs. Ben hoped the chaos around them was as distracting to the demons as it was to him.

  The demon leaned down to catch them, but they were faster.

  Rhys veered to the right, so Ben lurched left. Both of them swung hard with their mage-wrought blades and cut deeply into the demon’s legs. Ben felt his weapon connect with the tough tendon at the back of the leg. He yanked violently to clear the blade.

  With a satisfying twang, the tendon snapped. Above him, the creature howled in shock and pain. Slow, like a tree falling in the forest, it toppled forward.

  In the rapidly closing space between its legs, Ben could see the soldiers. They were scrambling backward so the giant wouldn’t fall on them.

  Wasting no time, Rhys spun and leapt onto its back. The demon rolled on the ground, trying to dislodge the man, but he was too quick. He flung himself up toward its neck and, with both hands, raised his longsword above his head. The silver glyphs sparkled along the length of his blade. He plunged it deep into the beast’s neck, shoving the sharp steel until the hilt met flesh.

  A muffled squeal crept from the creature, hampered by the sword sticking through its neck. On the other side of it, Ben could hear the frantic cheers of the soldiers.

  Ben smiled, amazed at his friend’s bravery and skill.

  The moment was over quickly when Rhys drew his longsword from the demon. He looked to Ben. Grim-faced, the rogue pointed over Ben’s shoulder.

  A chill tingled down Ben’s spine.

  He turned to see a swarm of upward of forty demons starting toward him. They had been prepared to follow the large one when it cleared the breach in the wall. Now that its body was blocking the narrow street behind him, Ben was the only human in the street.

  He set his feet and brought up his sword. Calm washed over him. The waiting, the mad rush along the wall, the unseen demons swooping in from the night…that was over. Now the threat was clear, the solution obvious. Kill as many demons as he could. If he didn’t kill enough, he would be dead. That didn’t matter. There was only one path to take.

  The demons arrived in a tangled wave of teeth and claws. If they worked together, there would be no way for Ben to defend against them, but they didn’t work together. Pushing and shoving, they struggled to get to their target.

  He sidestepped the first claw, which slashed toward his head. He neatly severed the arm. A second demon, clambering over the back of the injured first one, caught the point of Ben’s blade in its right eye. A third lost its head when he yanked his sword free and continued the motion, swiping through muscle and bone.

  The sound of a powerful wind grew in the back of Ben’s head but he ignored it, focused on the howls and bellowed challenges in front of him.

  He danced around the first three demons, using their bodies to keep the bulk of the attack away from him.

  Dropping to one knee, he eviscerated another that drew too close and felt a painful tug and tear on his left shoulder as one clawed hand got to him.

  Hot blood spilled down his arm. The demon paid for it when Ben spun, pulled by the momentum of the claw on his shoulder, and slammed his longsword deep into the demon’s chest.

  He turned with his blade still in the demon’s body, attempting to use it as a shield to block another pack before they swarmed over him. The creatures surged into the back of the dead demon.

  The force knocked Ben back to the ground. He barely kept a hand on his weapon, pulling it free and rolling to his feet in one motion.

  Spinning, he slashed in a circle around him, separating hands and clawed fingers from their owners. The spin took just a heartbeat, but he knew the end of the fight was near. He was surrounded by the creatures. There was no way he could defend all sides.

  Suddenly, Rhys dropped from above, jumping off the body of the huge demon he’d killed, to land at Ben’s side. Grinning maniacally, the rogue lashed out with a blazingly fast attack, cutting and hacking a clear space in front of him.

  Ben tried to mirror his friend’s movements. He stood back-to-back with Rhys. They were surrounded by a growing number of snarling demons. More and more of the creatures turned down the street as they poured in from the busted city gates.

  “Keep them back!” shouted Rhys between heavy breaths. “If they get close enough to foul your blade, we’re don
e.”

  Ben didn’t have the concentration or breath to spare a response. He was furiously slashing through meat and bone. His mage-wrought sword cut better than any traditionally forged steel, but the effort was draining. The gnashing teeth just beyond his reach pressed closer and closer. The demons coming in now were pushing the ones in front of them, ambivalent to the fact they were shoving their fellows into the path of Ben’s razor sharp blade.

  Demons were pushed into his reach, and he killed them, but he couldn’t reach the live ones that were doing the pushing. They were getting closer, a flailing, purple blood soaked pile of teeth, claws, and hunger.

  He had to push them back.

  Without thinking, he acted on instinct. He pulled back his left hand and swept it in front of him, like he was swatting a fly out of the air.

  An enormously powerful wind gusted forward, blasting the demons in front of him and blowing them down the street. Tumbling demons scattered in front of him like leaves in a storm.

  Ben stumbled forward into the suddenly clear area, and Rhys fell back, barely keeping his feet without Ben’s support behind him. Rhys spared a quick, startled look over his shoulder. His eyes fell down to Ben’s mage-wrought sword. Then he turned to face the creatures in front of him. None of them had been blown away.

  Spinning, Ben took his friend’s side. The two of them furiously defended against the surging tide of demons.

  There was no thought of defeating the howling mass attacking them. It was only defense and survival.

  Behind them, howls of rage alerted Ben that the creatures blown away by the wind were coming back. Within heartbeats, they’d be on him.

  Distracted by the threat behind him, Ben shoved his sword into the stomach of a squat, thickly muscled attacker and was pulled to his knees when it twisted, falling to the ground. The demon’s heavy body lay on the hilt of his sword. He couldn’t get an angle to pull it free.

  His left hand dropped to the hunting knife Serrot had given him. After all of this time, it was still hanging off his belt. Ben knew the knife wasn’t sufficient for this task.

  A thin winged demon appeared over the back of the dead one Ben’s sword was trapped in. Ben glanced to Rhys, but the man was being pushed back, swinging frantically to keep three of them away from him.