Cam yanked the blade free and spun about to find three of the monsters converging on Tegan. He scrambled toward her, hoping to reach her in time. She dodged a blow and leapt over one of the giant beasts. Flipping her legs over her head as she crested the banshee, Tegan sliced with both short swords and severed the banshee’s head from his body like a giant pair of scissors. When she landed, she spun about and sliced low on the next beast, taking a leg off just below the knee. The third monster lunged toward her back, but found that Cam’s blade had severed its arm off at the elbow. Blood began to spurt from the stump as the banshee wailed and turned toward Cam. The beast stopped, looking down in surprise at the gash created by Tegan’s sword, tearing the beast open from its crotch to sternum. The beast collapsed beside its fallen comrades, clutching its entrails with the remaining arm.
Tegan flashed a smile in Cam’s direction. “The Power is awesome. I feel invincible.”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Excuse me.” He launched himself toward another huge beast.
* * *
Parker could feel his heart thumping, adrenaline surging through his veins as his eyes searched the darkness. A glance to one side ensured him that Will was ready with the torch, the boy appearing even more nervous than Parker felt inside. Careful not to look at the light and compromise his vision, Parker glanced to the other side and watched a Chaos user trace a rune in the dirt at the border of the burnt field.
Movement ahead drew Parker’s attention. His heart skipped and somehow began beating even faster upon seeing a wall of banshees running toward him. A thin line of fighters divided the field from the onrush of monsters, ready to meet the charge. He said a silent prayer to Issal, hoping that Brock’s plan would work. Despite those fighters having been charged with a Power rune, Parker couldn’t imagine how a handful of humans could stop, or even slow, the wave of monsters rushing across the field.
Moving with inhuman speed and agility, the human warriors engaged with the attacking monsters. Paladins flew high above the banshees, leveling devastating blows on their ascent or descent. Bodies and body parts flew in all directions. In mere moments of fighting, corpses littered the blackened field. The banshees were dying far faster than the humans, but more and more of them charged onto the plateau to join the fray. Due to overwhelming enemy numbers, it was merely a matter of time before the Chaos-charged fighters would make a mistake and fall to the attacking monsters.
Deciding he couldn’t wait any longer, Parker drew one of his rag-tied arrows, lit it afire using Will’s torch, and nocked it to his bow. With a twang, the bow sent the arrow over the human’s thin line of defense and into the oncoming banshees. He grabbed another, and another, emptying the quiver as he shot flaming arrows into the horror of The Horde.
* * *
Brock ducked, dodging the sharp talons that raked just above his head. His free hand shot up to grab ahold of the thick wrist and he gave it a wrench to jerk the beast off its feet. The huge body smashed into the blackened earth, and Wraith dove for its neck.
As he spun about to face the next banshee, a flaming arrow flew overhead and impaled the monster. Its ragged clothing caught fire, its flaming arms flailing wildly.
“That’s the signal,” Brock shouted. “Retreat!”
An approaching banshee lunged forward, and Brock leapt into the air, flying high over the beast. Flexing his knees when he landed behind it, he swept his steel-reinforced staff and took the monster’s legs out. It hit the ground hard, and Brock thrust the butt of his staff through the banshee’s skull.
“Wraith!” he shouted. “Come!”
Brock launched himself into a sprint, his Power-augmented legs allowing him to run as fast as a horse. He raced across the blackened field, quickly reaching the bright lights at the west edge of the clearing.
Once beyond the glare of the bright lights, people sprang into Brock’s vision. He felt relieved when he saw his Chaos users standing ready, waiting for his command.
He turned to find other fighters running in their direction as they tried to clear the field.
“Shockwave Squad!” Brock shouted as he ran along the field edge. “Make ready!”
Up and down the line, the squad members stepped to onto the burnt patch. Each stood before a rune etched in the dirt, waiting for the command.
The last straggling Paladins were hastily retreating while angry monsters pursued them. Brock noted dozens of banshee corpses already littering the field but found that hundreds of other monsters had replaced them. The mass of banshees wailed in anger as they lumbered toward the humans, the monster’s arms held up to block the bright light from their red eyes.
“Charge your runes!” Brock shouted when he sensed that they were almost out of time.
Standing between Patrice and Jerome, Brock glanced toward the advancing Horde before turning his attention to their runes. Patrice’s rune began to glow red, pulsing and fading before a blast of earth shot forward in a widening arc. The Shockwave of dirt smashed into a pair of banshees, churning their feet from beneath them and blasting them backward as it continued across the field and through more of the monsters.
Other shockwaves blasted forth, across the width of the battlefield. Each shockwave relentlessly tore up the ground and anything else that lie in its path.
Brock stepped closer to Jerome, seeing that his rune was the last to charge. Jerome’s body trembled as tears and sweat covered his face. Brock realized that Jerome was holding his charge as he waited for the last of Torreco’s men to clear the field. The Paladin stumbled, almost falling in his scramble for safety. As the man passed Jerome’s rune, his foot swiped through it. Panic struck Brock as the broken rune began to glow.
He shouted in horror, “Stop!”
The earth beneath the incomplete rune erupted, the thump of the explosion blasting Brock backward as everything went black.
CHAPTER 28
Puri felt anxious, ready and eager to play her part. She glanced to her left and caught her father staring at her. He gave her a grim nod, which she returned before turning to the other side to check on her brother. Juran’s face appeared emotionless as he stared at the battlefield. She wasn’t surprised. The Tantarri were known for their ability to hide emotion, and Juran was an expert at it when not incented by his hatred. Even Redbolt remained calm despite the wails coming from the battlefield. Those wails triggered the memory of the terror Puri had felt when first facing the banshees. Puri recalled hating herself for succumbing to the overwhelming fear she had felt from the banshee wails. She now knew that the fear was unnatural, something created by the lost magic. Her hand went to her chest, gripping the amulet hanging from her neck. Releasing a sigh, Puri sent a silent thanks to her Outlanders for creating the powerful talisman.
A rumble sounded, drawing Puri’s attention to the battlefield. A wave of churned earth blasted across the blackened turf, sending banshees tumbling and covering them in dirt. A number of other shockwaves tore across the field, the wave closest to Puri’s position blasting beyond the burnt clearing and down the grassy slope toward the lower plains.
Banshees between her position and the most southern shockwave changed direction, turning to charge toward the human camps.
“Tantarri!” Turan shouted, his proud form thrusting a spear toward the night sky. “Our ancient enemy comes. Let us greet them.”
A roar rose up from the army of mounted Tantarri warriors. Puri, Turan, and Juran kicked their horses into a gallop and led their people into the fray, their steeds racing toward the enemy. The magic light provided by the Outlanders made it easy to see the banshees, their red eyes appearing as evil as their twisted hearts. Puri cocked her arm back to prepare herself as Redbolt charged toward the enemy. Meeting them at a full gallop, she sliced across the
abdomen of a banshee as she ducked beneath its lethal swinging arm. Another beast appeared directly before her horse. Redbolt smashed into it, bowling the huge monster onto its back. The horse stumbled from the impact, tossing Puri through the air. She rolled with the landing, the impact driving the air from her lungs but saved her from any serious damage. Wary, she regained her feet and fought to catch her breath as she searched for her sword.
A banshee appeared before her and blasted a horrible wail. Despite the charm she wore, Puri felt a lick of fear tickle her spine. The moment of hesitation allowed the monster to swing a huge arm, its long black talons coming toward her face. Blood suddenly sprayed through the air and Puri found Juran engaged with the banshee, the monster’s arm sheared-off below the elbow. It blasted another wail, causing Juran’s horse to rear. When the horse was at its apex, Juran lunged with his sabre, taking the towering banshee in the eye.
The monster crumpled into the long grass and Juran turned toward Puri, giving a nod. She returned the nod, scooped up her sword, and scrambled back onto Redbolt just in time to face another banshee.
* * *
Once the shockwaves began, Cam, Tegan, Budakis, and the other three surviving Chaos-charged Paladins in their group circled to the north edge of the battlefield where the rest of the Paladin trainees waited. Along with the archers at the cliff edge, only a dozen mounted Paladins and thirty-two foot soldiers remained from the original group of almost seventy fighters.
Cam spotted Talvin sitting on his horse, his face reflecting awe as he watched the shockwaves rumble across the battlefield.
“Talvin,” Cam called out as he drew near. “Are you ready? If any head this direction, we have to take them out.”
Talvin broke his gaze from the shockwaves and nodded. “Got it.” He thumbed toward the other fighters who waited upon horseback. “We’ll lead the charge, and the rest will follow.”
Cam nodded. “Good. However, Tegan and I will go with you.”
Talvin shrugged and looked at the mess upon the battlefield. Waves of blasted earth churned toward the east, pounding and burying anything in their path. Without another open route to attack, banshees began to turn toward Cam and his squad. A series of wails sounded and a score of beasts charged.
Cam took a deep breath and shouted. “Let’s go!”
* * *
Nindlerod climbed into the trailblazer, panting from the effort of running. Knowing there was little time to waste, he slid his thick leather gloves on and opened the firebox door, the high-pitched creak of the metal hinges making him wince. Smoke from the hot coals seeped from the chamber, causing him to cough as he pulled logs from the fuel compartment and tossed them into the fire. He slammed the door closed and pulled the flue open. After tightening the pressure-release to half-closed, he glanced at the gauge and nodded in satisfaction.
Grunting at the effort, he pushed the grinder lever forward, the gears clicking and grinding as they engaged. With a similar effort, he pushed the left and right drive-train levers down and the trailblazer lurched into motion.
Nindlerod stood tall to see through the small window above the boiler, smiling when he saw the battlefield drawing near. The bright white light of the glowing rocks lit the area and made it easy to see the shockwaves of blasted dirt ripping across the field, doing a wonderful amount of damage to The Horde.
The trailblazer skirted the south end of the battlefield and circled to the western edge, beyond the origin points of the shockwaves. Nindlerod’s smile faltered when he saw a dark pit splitting the row of bright lights. The pit was easily thirty feet in diameter and ten feet deep. A light and a shockwave should have been where the dark pit was located. The missing shockwave left a large gap down the middle of the field, creating an opening for banshees to advance unharmed.
The small Engineering Master pulled the right drive train lever back, and the steam-powered machine turned sharply right. With the Trailblazer centered between the shockwaves, Nindlerod drove it straight toward the gap.
Standing on his tiptoes to look through the small window above the boiler, Nindlerod’s grin grew wide. Banshees charged toward him, their red eyes wild and mindless, not even trying to avoid the grinder blades. With a series of lurches and thumps, the trailblazer mowed through the first three monsters, slowing as it ground through each of them. Once clear, the trailblazer regained speed with the steam engine running at the highest-pressure level that Nindlerod dared to attempt.
The trailblazer shook and rattled as it roared across the field. Nindlerod squinted in determination as a dozen more beasts stepped between the machine and eastern edge of the battlefield. With a gale of cackling laughter, Nindlerod’s trailblazer continued on, grinding through anything in his path.
* * *
Tenzi’s arms repeatedly swept the tall grass aside, grass so tall that she could barely see above it. She was intent on keeping up with Cassius and refused to let anyone else pass her. When they had reached the northern edge of the plains shortly after nightfall, she knew they were close to the location where Brock planned to face The Horde. Many of the twenty-seven fighters Cassius had gathered expressed a desire to stop and rest for the night rather than head out into the plains in the dark. However, Tenzi’s heated appeal won Cassius over and he decided to push on. Since then, four hours had passed and the periodic complaints had dried up, leaving only the sound of footsteps and the swishing of grass around them.
Leading them up a small rise, Cassius slowed as he crested it. Tenzi stopped beside the tall man, rising to the tips of her toes for a better view. Distant light shone within the dark fields, appearing like a beacon in a storm. The tug of a smile caused Tenzi’s lips to quiver as she felt a sense of relief. Her friends might be out there. Parker might be out there. Thoughts of him had become a common occurrence of late. Stay alive, Parker, she thought to herself.
Cassius waved his arm and led them down the low hill and toward the lights. As they drew closer, Tenzi noticed a rhythmic rumbling sound.
“What is that?” Jake asked from his position to her right.
Tenzi thought she might know but chose not to guess. She gave him a shrug, and his brow furrowed before his gaze shifted to Julius. Walking among Cassius and his twin sons made Tenzi feel as if she were standing beside giants. Memories of the attack on the banshee cave in Kalimar resurfaced, spurred by the thought of giants. Aided by the use of Chaos, they were somehow able to defeat dozens of banshees and close the portal the monsters used to invade Issalia. Friends died in that skirmish, more would die tonight. Her pulse began to race as anxiety fluttered within her stomach. She didn’t fear much, but she feared those beasts. The fact that she was intentionally facing them again made her question her sanity.
* * *
Something wet slid across Brock’s cheek. His head throbbed, pounding with the beat of his heart. Another slimy lick forced him to open his eyes and he winced at the pain of his pounding head. Wraith’s massive face looked down at him, and she ducked close for another lick.
“Okay, okay,” Brock complained as he pushed her face away from his. He could barely hear his own voice through the ringing in his ears. “I’m awake.”
Brock sat up, his whole body hurting. He blinked at his blurry vision and found himself surrounded by long grass, unable to see anything beyond Wraith. With care, he climbed to his feet, stumbling and grabbing onto the massive dog to steady himself as his vision twisted and tilted. He took a couple slow breaths and his vision seemed to stabilize enough so he could stand upright. When his head rose above the chest-high grass, he found a huge crater bordering the battlefield. He stumbled toward the hole and discovered the broken bodies of three of Torreco’s Paladins near Jerome and two other Chaos users. Brock’s vision scanned the bodies encircling the pit, finding blackened scalp
s and smoke oozing from empty eye sockets. It was obvious that they were dead, burnt out by Chaos.
Beyond the pit, the Academy Trailblazer rumbled across the clearing as it navigated the narrow gap between the shockwaves. The machine appeared to slow each time it encountered a banshee, shaking before regaining its speed and leaving a grotesque trail of remains behind.
Small groups of human fighters occupied safe pockets on the battlefield, dispatching any banshees that were able to avoid the continuous shockwaves.
“Brock!” He heard a distant voice through the ringing in his ears. Turning, he found Jestin and another healer approaching at a run.
“Are you okay, Brock?” Jestin asked as he drew near. Then he stepped backward, his eyes wide with fear.
Brock realized Jestin was staring at Wraith. “Don’t worry about Wraith.” Brock said, wearily. “She’s big, but she’s a good dog.”
Jestin’s eyes flicked from the dog, to Brock, and back again. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Please don’t make me talk. My head is killing me, and my whole body hurts.”
Jestin took his eyes off the dog and stepped closer to Brock. “Let me see if I can heal you.”
Placing his palm on Brock’s bare arm, Jestin closed his eyes. After a moment, a deep chill took ahold of Brock, his chest contracting as a shiver shook his body. Brock gasped for air, as if he had just run for miles. Amazingly, his head didn’t hurt any longer, but his stomach was screaming for sustenance.
Jestin turned toward his companion. “Hal, give Brock some food please.”
The other boy handed Brock a hard roll, which he quickly ate as he scanned the field.
An Empire in Runes (The Runes of Issalia Book 3) Page 16