Empire Builder 2

by Dante King

  “You must have been able to cast it more easily during battle,” Melody said. “Due to the pressure. Desperation allows you to draw from mana reserves you didn’t know you had.”

  Like mothers who can suddenly lift cars when their babies are endangered, Ben thought. It was more proof that Sybil cared deeply for her people.

  “Great,” he said. “Now, Melody, don’t forget to post a couple of monsterkin at the escape we came through as well. In case any of them find the trapdoor.”

  “Don’t worry,” Melody assured him. “We’ll take care of it.”

  “Excellent,” Ben said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  With the planning done, Melody and Lexi started organizing all the combat-ready monsterkin.

  Ben focused on casting the spell he had acquired from Lexi. He summoned his mana and chose the transformation skill.

  “Now to see if I can actually use this spell,” he said to himself.

  This plan was a long shot—transforming himself into a hawk and flying out to where Sir Gallant was waiting. But if it worked, they could surprise the guards at the gate, and sandwich them all against the hoard of monsterkin. Ben hoped the spell wasn’t restricted to beastkin.

  Ben followed the now familiar process of casting a new spell. He closed his eyes and focused, seeing the new spell in his mind’s eye. As he focused on it, he could almost feel the wind against his skin, the sinking feeling of a hawk plunging at its prey from the sky. A tingling sensation broke out across his body as he expended mana through the Transform spell.

  The tingling was soon accompanied by prickling heat—then the fire of his skin being stabbed by a thousand tiny needles. Ben felt as if his limbs were swelling up with inflammation.

  Just as Ben thought the pain couldn’t get any worse, there was a sound of rupturing and tearing. The skin popped all over his body, like a coat that was too small. Looking down, feathers jutted out of his limbs.

  He lifted his tunic. A canopy of feathers spread over his torso too—short brown feathers with golden tips. As Ben moved his limbs, light sparkled off the feathers, his arms and legs shimmering in the afternoon sun.

  Melody happened to look over at Ben. She paused, puzzled, then finally said, “What have you done?”

  Ben gave a sheepish grin. “Tried to cast a shape-shifting spell. I got it from Lexi.”

  “Wait, you tried to turn yourself into a hawk?” Melody’s eyes were round with surprise and a bit of fear.

  Ben wasn’t sure if she was making fun of him at this point. The spell hadn’t gone as he had hoped. Instead of effortlessly shifting into a hawk and soaring through the sky, he was still planted on the ground, feathers sticking out of his body.

  “Was that a bad idea?” he asked. “A bunch of feathers won’t help me fly out of here.”

  Melody hesitated. “Honestly, I’m surprised you got this far. If you’d told me you were going to cast a transformation spell, I would have told you it’s impossible.”

  “Why would it be impossible?” Ben asked. “I took the spell from Lexi just like the other spells I’ve acquired with Drain.”

  “Only beastkin are supposed to be able to cast those spells. The fact that you got it to work is incredible.” Melody stared at Ben in wonder, as if she still couldn’t believe what he’d told her, and what she was seeing.

  “Well, that’s nice,” Ben said. “But I really need better results than this.” He lifted up one of his feather-covered arms.

  “Try the spell again,” Melody said. “This time, imagine that you are a hawk. Your mind needs to enter into the spell just like your body.”

  “How do you know about this?” Ben asked. “Do you have a transformation spell too?”

  “Not yet,” Melody said. “You have to be very experienced to learn those spells. I didn’t get that far in my training.”

  “Maybe we can get you there soon,” Ben said with a smile. “But that will have to wait. I need to get out of here.”

  “Good luck.” Melody smiled and shook her head, as if Ben were about to take a risk she wished he wouldn’t. Her eyes scanned up and down his body one last time before she turned her attention back to the rest of monsterkin.

  Ben cast the Transform spell again, this time focusing his mind on what he imagined it would feel like to be a hawk. He pictured his arms dropping away and being replaced with wings that would grip the air just as easily as he might grip the handlebars of a bicycle. He pictured his feet becoming talons with the dexterity of fingers, not toes. The feeling of wind returned, but this time it was more intense—as if he really was an hawk soaring through the endless expanse of blue.

  He imagined his nose and mouth blending together, becoming a beak with the power to crush bones and tear flesh. And his eyes would gain the power to spot the tiniest movements more than a mile away.

  And then it happened. Ben felt his limbs shifting and changing. The feathers that sprouted on his skin huddled closer together, as his body changed shape and shrunk. His organs shifted, negotiating his new size. He felt new muscles develop in his nether regions, allowing him to adjust the angle of his tail – something he’d never been able, nor needed, to do before.

  He thumped to the ground. He’d become much, much shorter in midair, and now gravity pulled him down. He heard a shriek of surprise, and realized it was his own piercing cry.

  He became vaguely aware of the monsterkin all staring at him from the other side of the square, but their movements didn’t interest him. They were too large to be prey.

  He became conscious of the fact that his mind was searching for prey, and scanning for danger, in the focused way that a predator would. But his own human mind was still present, albeit sharing room with the thoughts of a hawk. I have to fly out to Sir Gallant and the others, he told himself. Getting his companions here before the reinforcements arrived was imperative.

  Ben noticed that his clothing and his sword had disappeared. He didn’t know how the spell worked, and hoped it didn’t mean he would transform back to human form stark naked. But he didn’t want to go through the ordeal of casting the spell again to test it just yet. He had to get the attention of Sir Gallant first.

  It was time to leave. He spread his wings. It felt just like raising his arms and flapping them, except that he had no elbows. Instead, he had myriads of finely adjusted muscles allowing him to control the shape of his wings and the angle of the feathers. It all felt strange for a moment, but soon felt as natural as if he’d always been a hawk.

  With a few controlled movements, he beat the wings up and down, scooping air underneath, and pushing his body upward. It was like climbing a rock-climbing wall, heaving himself upward with his hands, except that he was keenly aware of the fact that there were no handgrips underneath him. Soon, he was floating.

  The ground started to recede beneath him, but it didn’t interest him. There was no prey in sight. Instead, he was interested in the expanse of blue sky above. He was looking out for crows, which could be a real nuisance in large groups. And he was checking the behavior of the wind and the sun.

  Ben let out a shriek of joy. He was flying! He was as light as a kite, floating on the warm air, buffeted by the breeze. With the subtlest of movements, he could steer his body, soaring toward the clouds. Flying was everything he’d imagined it to be.

  It wasn’t long before he had to think about returning to the ground, though. His sense of direction from this height was better than he’d expected it to be. He quickly spied the section of forest to the north of Brekmarth where he’d left Sir Gallant and the nymphs.

  From this height, the town looked even more ramshackle than he’d realized from the ground. The huts were all dilapidated, their roofs sinking in and their walls stained with muck. It didn’t look as if any of them apart from the courthouse were well maintained. There was no doubt that the area would be better off razed. There would be no room in his kingdom for a place like this.

  Guards clustered around the gate and the marke
tplace. Some jogged off to the square to check on the disturbances there. They also had several small siege weapons on the walls that looked like ballistae capable of firing large bolts. Those would be dangerous if they were turned on the monsterkin.

  Ben shelved that thought for later. If he could get Sir Gallant to lead an attack on the gate, they might be able to prevent that from happening.

  He swooped down toward the woods. Sir Gallant the Elder stood at the edge of the clearing, his large sword drawn. Sir Gallant the Younger was perched on his shoulder. The nymphs and the monster children were all standing behind him.

  They were all looking in the direction of Brekmarth. Ben assumed they were still waiting for confirmation that the battle had begun, so they could join the assault.

  With a controlled flutter of wings, Ben landed on a tree branch nearby. The others turned to look at him, as if they could sense there was something strange about this hawk. He stared at one of the nymphs.

  After the effort it took him to change into a hawk the first time, he didn’t want to have to do it again. He hoped he could find another way to signal that it was time to attack.

  Not knowing what else to do, he let out a shriek – a much louder one than he’d intended. The children of Lulu and Vinata bent to the ground, covering their ears. Nipper and Pearl growled at him.

  “Do you think that hawk’s trying to get our attention?” Vinata asked, turning to the others. “It’s strange, the way it’s perched there like that, isn’t it?”

  “Lexi is a hawkwoman, isn’t she?” Lulu replied.

  “Ben drained Lexi of magic,” Sir Gallant the Younger observed. “She couldn’t have transformed.”

  “Wait, that must be it,” Vinata said. “Maybe Ben cast the spell.”

  That was it. Now Ben had to find some way to signal that they were on the right track.

  “No, that’s imposs—” Sir Gallant the Younger began.

  Ben shrieked again and flapped into the air. He circled a couple of times, swooping in the direction of the outpost. Come on, he thought, as willing them to follow.

  “It must be him,” Vinata said. “There’s no way a normal hawk would behave like that. It’s either him, or one he sent.”

  “We should follow him then,” Lulu said.

  “Look—there is smoke coming from the town,” said Sir Gallant the Elder. “The battle has begun.”

  “Then we should attack in any case,” Vinata said.

  The knight was correct. A large plume of dark smoke rose from the courthouse. Ben shrieked again and flew in the direction of the town.

  “Follow me,” Sir Gallant the Elder said.

  The nymphs and their children marched behind the giant armored knight. Ben glided above them, keeping pace.

  As they started to get close, he lowered his wings, aiming toward the palisade. The guards were all converging on the marketplace, where the monsterkin were attacking slavers and soldiers alike. The distant clatter of steel against steel cut through the bustle of the guards still at the palisade.

  The guards at the gates faced inward, not noticing Sir Gallant and the others approaching. Now it was up to Ben to take control of the wall and ensure guards didn’t attack from up high.

  The guards on the top of the palisade gathered around the two ballistae, dragging them around to face the marketplace. Bolts from those weapons could easily rip through several monsterkin at a time. Ben had to make sure they didn’t have a chance to fire even a single bolt.

  Ben angled his wings upward, bracing his muscles against the impact of the air as he slowed. He plunged toward the exposed neck of the nearest guard.

  He extended his talons. He was going to have to transform back to his human form, but he decided to take someone out in the process.

  The guard wasn’t even facing him as he swooped. One of the other guards noticed at the last moment, though, and pointed behind him. “Watch out!” the guard yelled. But it was too late. Ben’s prey turned to look just in time to see his doom approach.

  Ben had been aiming for the back of the neck, but decided that the face would do just as well. With a shriek, he landed on the guard’s face, scratching and ripping, gouging out the eyes and tearing flesh as the guard desperately tried to swat him away. It didn’t take much of this before Ben clawed into vital parts, blood spraying as he shredded the hapless guard’s flesh.

  The guard let out a gurgled scream before he fell to the ground, his lifeless face nothing but red ribbons of torn skin.

  Ben withdrew his mana from his limbs, deactivating the Transform spell. As his body dropped toward the wooden walkway, his legs extended, and his human form reemerged, fully clothed and armed as he had been before. The hawk instinct faded, his human mind taking over again.

  The sight of a hawk shifting into human form was enough to shock the guards, which gave Ben the moment’s respite he needed to draw his sword. The half-dozen remaining guards who faced him drew theirs, but Ben ran the first one through while his hand feebly clutched the hilt, plunging his blade into the guard’s belly.

  The others could only approach him one at a time on the narrow walkway. He slammed his blade into the side of the next guard, toppling him off the palisade onto the ground below, where he landed with a hard thud.

  He used Drain to weaken the next guard before running him through. Strength flowed through Ben, allowing him to block the attacks from the next three guards. He killed another and shoved the remaining two off the walkway. They cried out as they slammed into the ground, and struggled to get back onto their feet, injured by the fall. His eyes stayed focused on his objective: the ballista. Once the path was clear, he rushed over to the weapon.

  Ben turned the ballista to face the guards surging into the marketplace. Below him, Sir Gallant the Elder and the nymphs tore into the guards at the gates. The monster children fed on slain guards.

  The monsterkin in the marketplace ran amok, thrashing slavers and guards wildly, and smashing stalls. At the entrance to the courthouse, a tearing noise sounded out—the hides covering the doorway being ripped and thrown to the ground.

  Several ogres emerged, weapons firm in their hands. The fight was about to get rough.

  “To me, monsterkin!” Lexi yelled over the noise. “Don’t let the slavers escape!”

  Several of the nearest monsterkin heard Lexi’s call and joined her. The ogres coughed, the smoke obscuring their vision and the noise disorienting them. The monsterkin cut them down as they tried to flee.

  It reminded Ben of something else about the Vikings: how they would set fire to a longhall to kill any survivors. Those caught inside would be roasted alive, those who tried to flee would be killed the moment they stepped out of the burning building – exactly what he was witnessing. He smiled grimly. This was a good beginning to his war against slavery in the north.

  But Ben’s pleasure at the tide of the battle didn’t last long. He glanced across to the other side of the gateway: the other guards were on the second ballista. They were trying to turn the weapon to aim at Sir Gallant and the nymphs. If they get a shot off… Ben thought, his heart pounding.

  He acted quickly, closing the distance between him and the crew, draining strength from the closest of the guards. The poor soul slumped forward and crashed to the ground. Using that strength, he dashed back to his own ballista, aiming it at the guards, who hadn’t noticed him yet.

  The weapon was already loaded, and only required a touch from him to loose the yard-long bolt. He fired the weapon, the shaft whistling through the air at the guards.

  One of them looked up just in time to yell in horror. The spear shot through his gut, carrying him along and into the belly of the next two guards. The three of them were pinned together by the spear, the tip of the shaft jammed into the wall of a nearby guard post. A pitiful shout escaped one of their lips, shock on their faces. Then the arrow came loose, the men toppling from their height and slamming together into the ground.

  The remaining two guards shif
ted their ballista to face Ben now that they noticed him. Ben leapt over his ballista, sword in hand, and charged toward them. He ran as fast as he could, closing the distance until he was too close for them to fire their weapon.

  Ben swung his blade into the side of the first guard, the long sword effortlessly slicing into the man’s belly, his guts tumbling out and sending him sprawling to the ground below. The one behind drew his weapon and swiped it at Ben’s head, but he ducked just in time.

  They blocked and thrusted in turns, one going on the attack while the other was forced onto the defensive. But Ben had strength and clarity on his side, the intelligence he’d drained from the slavers earlier. It wasn’t long before he overwhelmed his opponent, his blade piercing his heart. Ben’s own skill with the sword was still poor, but it was enough to best the poorly trained guard.

  Ben gazed down at the battle. Sir Gallant and the others had fought their way through the gates and were charging the other guards from behind. The courthouse was well and truly ablaze by now, and no more slavers were emerging. Thick smoke crept over the sun, casting a deep shadow over the carnage below.

  Melody had succeeded in corralling most of the monsterkin into forming a front behind her and Sybil. The guards were now sandwiched between Sir Gallant the Elder and the nymphs on one side, and Melody and the monsterkin on the other. The guards’ panicked eyes darted back and forth, their swords shaking nervously in their hands.

  “Form up!” the last captain of the guard yelled. The man towered over the others. “Form up, men!”

  Only about twenty guards remained, but they were armed, and after the captain’s order they tightened their formation. Ben didn’t want any monsterkin to die if he could help it. He needed to join the fight.

  He dashed to the steps leading from the walkway to the ground. As he ran toward the battle, he finished off the struggling guards lying on the ground where he’d thrown them off, jabbing the point of his sword into their necks, bloody gurgles escaping their mouths as they died. It was partly an act of mercy, but also to ensure that they wouldn’t be able to attack him from the rear.