He signaled to Dominic as he moved forward. Dominic joined him as he stopped at the pile. With a shared look and a nod, Dominic reached out and pulled away some of the boxes. Jake shifted and glanced into the sudden opening. He stopped in shock on what his light revealed. Huddled against the hull, he found a boy around thirteen, eyes wide with fright.
“Come out,” Jake said softly as he slowly reached for the boy. “You are safe now.”
Despite Jake’s soft words, the boy did not move, only whimpered slightly and huddled tighter.
“Just grab him,” Dominic said. “We don’t have all day.”
“He’s scared, Dominic,” Jake replied. For some reason, the boy reminded him of Russ, his younger brother.
“Let me then,” Dominic said as he nudged Jake aside. He reached out his hand. “Come here, boy. I will not let anyone harm you.”
The boy’s attitude changed slightly when he saw that scarred face. Some of his fear seemed to fade. Slowly, he reached out and took Dominic’s hand. Dominic, with unexpected gentleness, lifted him up and pulled him out. The boy stayed right at Dominic’s side, as they worked their way back out on deck.
Norai was on the enemy ship, speaking with Batrei while the rest of the crew was moving the bodies of the dead. Jonas was standing nearby, staring at Norai with an uncharacteristic look of anger on his face. Jake and Dominic joined him, the boy never leaving Dominic’s side.
“What’s wrong?” Dominic asked.
“Norai would not let me heal the enemy wounded,” Jonas said. “They were left to die.”
“I have explained that, Brother Jonas,” Norai said as he came over. “I mean to take all of the water and food this ship carries, as well as anything of value, and then send it to the deep.” He looked over at Dominic. “My ship is a trading vessel; I have no brig to lock up any prisoners. If we took them onboard, they would be a constant threat to our mission. We are far from any safe harbors here.”
He glanced back at Jonas. “I am the captain, Brother. I cannot risk your and my crew’s safety by bringing such a threat onboard. My only other option was to send them away on this ship. Maybe they could survive, but that would mean that they could alert others to our presence. In my opinion, they were too few to crew such a vessel. As a sailor, I will not set men adrift on the sea to die of thirst and deprivation. Better a quick death than a long agonizing one. The sea is a cruel mistress and sometimes we must be cruel to survive.”
“He is correct, Jonas,” Dominic stated. “Our mission is too critical to expose ourselves to more risks than we must. You don’t have to like it, but you should not hold that against Norai.”
Jonas was silent for a while, and then shook his head. “I cannot justify what was done, no matter the reason, but done is done. We must continue forward.” He glanced at the boy. “Who is this?”
“We found him below,” Dominic said. “He was hiding in the hold.”
A shout from one of the sailors drew their attention away. One of Norai’s crew approached with several long parchment rolls in his arms. “Maps, Captain,” the man said.
Norai unrolled one of the maps. His eyes lit up as he saw the drawing of a large island. Quickly, he looked at the other maps. He had a smile on his face when he looked over at the small group.
“I believe that we have found what you are searching for,” he told them. “With these, we can finally set a true course. We will simply need to determine where we need to go.” He glanced at the boy. “Perhaps the lad can help.”
He turned to Batrei. “Send a team below to gather the water and stores. While they are doing that, begin to scuttle this ship. We cannot risk fire for the smoke, so cut holes in the hull. I want her gone as quickly as possible.” Batrei nodded and moved off, calling to members of the crew.
“Now, get back to the ship,” he told Jake and the others. “I plan to sail as soon as my crew is finished.”
“Follow me, boy,” Dominic said to his young captive as he started for the ship. “You are coming with us.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
With the rough orange glow of torchlight lighting the hard stones of the Keep’s walls, Moshanna slowly paced back and forth above the main gate, his hand resting on his sword. On his other hand, he could feel the gold ring that symbolized his marriage, rings made by Tomaris for him and Sharin. She was never far from his thoughts, but he tried to keep her from his mind as he focused on what was coming.
His scouts had reported on the battle between the Sanduan army and the demons’ forces. He knew that the demons would turn their attention here soon. He had been preparing the Keep for an attack since he returned. Despite the odds, he trusted in the strength of the Keep’s walls and the skill of his soldiers.
The night was moonless and dark, with a gentle cold breeze blowing. His soldiers were gathered along the walls, hidden from view while braziers of fire burned behind them. Quivers of arrows leaned against the inside wall, ready for use. Barrels of pitch, sitting over fire pits, were stationed along the walls, near a series of sloping metal flumes that stretched out towards the road.
On each wall, one of the clerics stood with the soldiers. Halana was on the wall to his left and Taric was to his right. Neither held their power, but they were ready to act. They were only two against many, but Tomaris had given them instruments of power that increased their might. Hopefully, that would give them a fighting chance.
He glanced down at the gates again. The metal doors were shut and sealed, but they had another layer of defense. The metal itself was glowing with a bright golden-white light. Tomaris had spent several hours at the gates, using his magic to create that protection. The old man had nearly collapsed when he finally finished, staggering away from the gate. Moshanna had helped carry him back into the Keep.
“The gates cannot be opened for anyone now, my son,” Tomaris had wearily told Moshanna as he had lain down in his room. “If they are opened, then the power I set in them will fade.”
So Moshanna had told his men to shout down to anyone seeking refuge to flee into the mountains. They had taken in the people of Numaria before the enemy army arrived, but stragglers continued to show up. Their chances in the rugged terrain were much greater than being caught between the Keep and the demons.
A sudden horn blast blared in the night, a lonely sound in the dark, signaling the approach of the enemy. Moshanna stepped forward and placed himself over the gates. He took his hand off his sword, as he would not give the demons the impression that he was afraid. He deliberately clasped his hands behind his back and waited.
At the edge of the torches’ light, three figures stepped out of the shadows. Moshanna felt the familiar chill of fear as he recognized the figures. There were two male demons, appearing to be twins, man-sized with red skin and dark horns on their heads. They walked on either side of a large, muscular demon, with human-like features, but with gray skin. All three had on pieces of armor and were surrounded by their dark power. They approached until they were halfway to the gates. The gray demon stopped and studied the glowing metal, a cautious look on its face. After a few moments, it looked up towards Moshanna.
“I have come to speak to the master of the Keep,” it called out, its unnatural voice cold and emotionless. “I seek to avoid violence and come only to claim that which is ours.”
“There is nothing here for you but destruction, demon,” Moshanna responded. “Go back to the Darkness where you belong.”
A look of rage crossed the demon’s face. “Who are you to speak to me, mortal? I should rip your tongue out for such an affront.”
“I am Moshanna Deepwood, Captain of Tomaris’ Guard, demon!” he replied defiantly. “I do not fear you or your threats.”
“Bring your master out, dog, before I lose my patience,” the demon demanded. “I can destroy your precious Keep and kill all inside, if I wished to do so. I have instead chosen to be merciful, but my forbearance is not without limits.”
Before Moshanna could retort, Tomaris s
uddenly appeared at his side. He placed a reassuring hand on Moshanna’s arm, and then addressed the demon. “What do you want, demon?” he asked. “I know of nothing here that belongs to you.”
“So, you are the famed Tomaris,” the demon called back with mockery in its voice. “Do not act the fool. You know why we are here. Surrender the sword and I will spare your lives.”
“I would indeed be foolish if I believed that you would keep your word,” Tomaris replied. “The sword does not belong to you. You should flee before the Guardian appears and reclaims his weapon to drive you back into the Darkness.”
The demon laughed at the threat. “The Guardian has had time to reclaim his sword, but has not. Why is that, old man?” the demon taunted. “He has abandoned you. You will receive no succor from him.”
“Then we will defeat you ourselves,” Tomaris retorted, his face calm. “Either way, you will find only oblivion here. Fly now, if you wish to survive.”
“You have condemned all to death, then,” the demon snarled, “starting with your own.” It brought its arm up and a large blast of demon fire streaked towards Tomaris. Out of the darkness behind it, more demons raced forward.
Tomaris did not move, but brought his hands up at the last second. Golden white light flared from them, striking at the demon’s attack. The powers collided, exploding in a huge clap of sound and light.
“Now!” Moshanna shouted. All along the wall, archers rose up and launched their arrows downward. He saw some of the demons fall, but others began to launch their dark power against the walls. His soldiers ducked behind the stone to avoid the attack, but some were not fast enough and were enveloped in ebon fire.
The clerics stepped forward, shining brightly against the dark night, and began to attack, sending streaks of their yellow magic into the mass of demons. With their might enhanced, their attacks had a devastating effect, destroying some of the weaker demons and scattering others.
Tomaris confronted the three demons that had approached first. His hands glowing brightly, he deflected their attacks and countered with brilliant streaks of power. His strikes had an impact, leaving the demons steaming, but still standing. The noise from their battle was deafening, the explosions of opposing magics echoing and magnifying off the walls of the Keep.
With a sudden flare of power, Tomaris’ gestured overhead. A bright globe of golden fire appeared, suspended in the air above the gates, chasing away the shadows. The demons hesitated when they saw that, suddenly unsure.
Tomaris attacked into that pause, his magic streaking out like a blinding bolt of lightning. He maintained his attack as his power forked, striking the three demons. Small tendrils of that golden-white might struck nearby demons as well.
Moshanna saw Tomaris’ face fixed in concentration as he poured power down at the demons. He also noticed a small trickle of blood begin to flow from Tomaris’ nose. The old man began to sway, but he did not relent.
His attack drove the demons back. Several of the weaker ones exploded into ash, while the bodies of the stronger were smoking heavily. Finally, howling in frustration, the demons retreated. Calling out, hundreds of their soldiers charged past them, running for the gates.
“Archers!” Moshanna called out. His soldiers rose and loosed a deadly rain of arrows. The enemy had shields, but the arrows flew in from different angles and they could not deflect them all. The front ranks of the enemy fell, slowing the others, while the Keep’s defenders continued to unleash their arrows. Unable to endure the onslaught of death, the enemy turned and fled back into the safety of the darkness.
That was too easy, Moshanna thought, frowning, as he looked over the dead and dying enemy. Why did they not sustain the attack? Shaking his head, he glanced over at Tomaris and saw the man kneeling down, blood flowing from his nose and mouth.
“Halana!” he called out as he crouched down next to the old man. He ripped a piece of his shirt free and held it to Tomaris’ nose as he threw an arm around the man to support him.
The cleric arrived, her form shining vividly, and took Tomaris’ head in her hands. Concentrating, she sent her magic flowing into him, healing his injuries. When she was finished, she asked softly, “What causes that damage?”
“Thank you, dear child,” Tomaris said as he slowly stood up, Moshanna’s arm still around him. “While my power remains, my body is weak. We were not designed to wield such might and old age exacerbates that weakness. When I was your age, such expenditure would not have troubled me. However, I must use what strength I have, no matter the cost, if we are to withstand our enemies.”
“You should return to your room and rest, Master Tomaris,” Halana said as she gently wiped away the blood on his face. “We can hold the gate for now.”
“No,” Tomaris stated plainly. “I will need to be close if the demons come again.” He turned to Moshanna. “Perhaps a cot can be brought to the wall, so I can rest as needed.”
“I will see it done,” Moshanna said. “But perhaps the Keep is a better place for you, as Halana suggested?”
“Do not fear for me, my son,” Tomaris said with a tired smile. “I am old and my time grows short, regardless of what our enemies do. If I must fall fighting the demons, then that is as good an end as any.”
Moshanna had a soldier run down and retrieve blankets and a simple cot, which he had set up against the back wall. He watched as Tomaris went over to it and lay down. Once he was settled in, Moshanna turned his attention back to his forces.
He could see a shared look of satisfaction on their faces. They had suffered a few casualties, but had performed well. He let them enjoy this moment. The real test is still coming. The butcher bill will be much higher before we are done, he thought grimly.
Throughout the night, the demons’ forces launched a series of attacks, varying their tactics each time. None of the assaults had much effect as his soldiers responded quickly to the enemy troops, while Tomaris and the clerics continued to confront the demons when they appeared. Moshanna worried for Tomaris, as the man tired easily, but shrugged off his concerns and continued to respond to the demons. The clerics were younger and stronger, but after the several conflicts with the demons, he could see the strain on their faces as well.
Moshanna recognized the strategy behind this method of attack. The demons were testing the Keep’s defenses, probing for weaknesses while preventing its defenders to rest. Either they would find a way to exploit any weakness or count on weariness to cause the defenders to make mistakes. To counter this, he set up a rotation of his soldiers, allowing time to rest. Unfortunately, he could not do anything for the magic users.
Near dawn, the enemy launched a sustained attack. They sent in archers, covered by infantry with large shields, as they tried to respond in kind to Moshanna’s bowmen. Behind them came a large battering ram, the men pushing it covered by metal shields. Demons followed, sweeping the walls with their power.
Moshanna’s men were unable to slow the advance of this new assault. The shields defeated their arrows and the clerics were hard-pressed to counter the demons’ power. Even as Tomaris joined the fight, his might slamming into the demons and forcing them back, the battering ram drew closer to the gates.
Moshanna waited until the enemy had massed near the gates, the battering ram in their midst. Before the ram could reach the gates, he cried out, “Pitch!” His men rushed to the barrels and began to pour the hot sticky oil into the flumes.
The pitch rained down on the enemy below, covering men and equipment in black oil. Even as they tried to shield themselves and withdraw, it was too late. “Fire arrows!” Moshanna ordered. His men loosed arrows lit with fire into the chaotic mass of the enemy. With a sudden roar, the pitch exploded into flame, the fire consuming men and wood. Few of their foes were able to escape that inferno.
With the area directly in front of the gates engulfed in flames, the enemy withdrew again. Moshanna waited for another assault, but with the sun rising over the mountains, Tomaris came to him. “I b
elieve that they will wait until nightfall before they attack again,” he said as he gazed sadly over the carnage below. “I will return to the Keep. You should get some rest while you can, as well.”
…
In the late afternoon, Moshanna sat on the balcony of his suite, gazing out towards the walls. Thin tendrils of black smoke still rose from the gate area. He sipped the cold water in his cup as he contemplated how to approach what he needed to do.
After escorting Tomaris to his rooms, he had returned to his suite to bathe and sleep. Sharin was not there when he arrived. Used to managing a household, she could not simply sit idle and had volunteered to help with the teaching of the children. He had hoped to see and speak with her, but weariness overtook him and he had drifted off into sleep.
His sleep was not restful. He was troubled with dark dreams, scenes of the Keep being overrun by the demons. Over and again in his dream, he had tried to defend Sharin from the dark peril, but failed each time. After see her fall to the demon forces, he had woken with a start, covered in sweat.
He heard the main door open behind him. Turning, he saw Sharin enter the room. She was dressed in a plain gown, her hair hanging free. The gold band of her wedding ring stood out against her cocoa skin.
“Hello, my love,” she said when she saw Moshanna standing there. She came over and embraced him. He held her tightly, savoring her body against his. Even though he could have stayed like that forever, he gently released her.
“We need to speak, Sharin,” he said softly. Holding her hand, he led her to the sitting area. After she had sat down, he pulled a chair close and took her hands again.
“I’m not sure we can withstand this army, my love,” he said, looking into those beautiful brown eyes. “If they breach the gates, we will have to retreat to the Keep. We can hold, but if Tomaris or the clerics fall, then it will only be a matter of time before they take the Keep.” He paused. “There are several tunnels out of the Keep that end in the Gray Ridges near the Aletonian border. If the time comes, I want you to lead the people out of the Keep.”
The Eternal Darkness (The Jake Thomas Trilogy - Book 3) Page 17