Spirit Past (Book 8)

by Jeff Inlo

  Initially, anger and disgust flooded the thoughts of the guard captain. When considering the power at Neltus' disposal, Klusac could not imagine a more pathetic display of cowardice. He would have loved to hunt down the magic caster with every available scout. He didn't care about magic spells or teleportation. He just wanted the wizard found and soundly thrashed for abandoning Burbon.

  Despite the burning desire to hound Neltus throughout every tavern across Uton, the captain couldn't let his feelings toward the portly wizard interfere with the defense of the town. Neltus might have been a coward and deserving of contempt, but he was also the reason Burbon was under attack. In the eyes of some demon master, Neltus was a prize. With the wizard gone, many aspects of the situation changed, and Klusac was forced to reexamine his strategies.

  "Can't this help us? These dead things are here because they're trying to get to Neltus. If he's gone, they'll leave, too. Won't they?"

  "I don't know," Ryson confessed. "I don't know how strong the connection is between them all. It's obvious they figured out Neltus was hiding here, but that doesn't mean they know he's already left. I don't know if they can follow each other's movements immediately, or if it takes some time. I just don't know."

  "Is there a way we can make it known?"

  "I don't think those things down there will understand anything we say."

  "I don't mean them. Someone has to be in control of these things, right? We let him know."

  In control?

  Ryson questioned the entire concept. With walking corpses filling every available space in front of the wall, he wondered if anyone was really in charge. Reality seemed to twist in absurd directions with each new struggle. The raising of the dead did not inspire confidence in sound reason or structured harmony. It reeked of chaos.

  As for who was in control of the undead legion, it was probably Reiculf, but he couldn't be certain the daokiln had taken personal command. It could have been one of Reiculf's pawns. And even if Ryson knew who was behind the attack, how could he communicate that the wizard had teleported away? Simply shouting out that Neltus was gone wouldn't work, and he had no idea where to send a messenger.

  He also wasn't sure how easy it would be to turn back an army of the undead. It was possible the corpses were given their instructions when they were animated. Maybe they intended on destroying Burbon whether Neltus was there or not. If Reiculf was ultimately behind the attack, and that seemed likely, then he would enjoy ravaging Burbon for any reason.

  The one thing the delver knew for certain was that they couldn't afford to wait around to see if the undead would leave of their own accord. Every undead creature had to be removed from the wall... immediately.

  "We're not going to have the time," Ryson explained. "We have a bigger problem. We have to clear out these corpses. Right now."

  Klusac could see and hear desperation in the delver. It was painted on Ryson's face and etched in his voice. Klusac sensed that Neltus turning tail and running was nothing more than a minor inconvenience compared to whatever new peril threatened Burbon.

  "What else has happened?! What's changed!"

  "Deeper in the forest... a thrastil is coming... an undead thrastil."

  "I don't know what that is!" Klusac admitted, shouting over the thunderous pounding of the undead creatures below.

  "It's a nightmare—the body of a scorpion with the head of a crocodile—but it doesn't end there. It's big, very big; taller than this tower and wider than the largest storehouse we have in town. It'll crash through the wall with ease. "

  "Can we stop it?"

  "I honestly don't know. I saw one once. It was killed by powerful magic, but I'm not sure if even that would work on what we're facing. It's already dead, that means we have to do enough damage so it can't move. It won't be easy, but with Dzeb's help, we may have a chance. We have to try, but we have to clear out these creatures first. We can't be battling them both at the same time, and we can't let the thrastil make holes in the wall and allow the undead to rage through the town."

  "How much time do we have? How far away is this thing?"

  "Not sure. I know it's not that close, otherwise I'd hear it or smell it by now. But it has to be close enough for Neltus to have seen it with his spell. That's why he left. We have some time, but not a lot."

  Faced with a growing threat and an undead monster he could barely imagine, the captain wiped all other concerns from his mind. He knew Ryson was right. They had to clear the wall, and it had to be done without delay. With Neltus gone, it was up to his soldiers... and whatever other assets he could deploy. He put aside any prejudices and requested help from all possible sources.

  "Alright, but you're going to have to talk to your giant. I'm going to muster all of my soldiers at this position as soon as possible. I'm going to open the gate, but I need your big friend to clear a space around the entrance. Once we establish a foothold outside the wall, we can work our way around the clearing, destroy as many as possible. Do you think he'll do it?"

  "I'll ask him."

  "Make it quick. I'm going to give the signal to assemble here."

  Ryson raced down the tower ladder and over to Dzeb. He looked up to the cliff behemoth and hoped he could persuade his gentle friend to attack. The delver had seen the giant fight on previous occasions, but that didn't create a guarantee. Dzeb's dedication to his faith made any request for battle a suspect proposition.

  "Dzeb, we need your help."

  "What would you have me do?" Dzeb asked, seemingly willing to assist in whatever course was necessary to help the town and its people.

  "The soldiers are going to have to go out there and clear these things away, but they're going to need help. They need you to make a space in front of this gate. These corpses... we have to damage the bodies enough so the magic will leave them. If we don't do this, they'll get inside the wall. We can't let that happen."

  "Say no more, Ryson Acumen. These things are an abomination. I will happily do what is necessary."

  Relief swept through the delver. With Dzeb's aid, he knew they would be able to clear most of the space around the wall. Given ample time, the giant could probably complete the task by himself. With Ryson and the soldiers working in concert with the cliff behemoth, they might actually succeed. It all depended on how much time they had... how long before the real menace arrived.

  Thinking of the monstrosity that was somewhere out in the forest, Ryson knew he had to tell Dzeb what would follow.

  "There's an undead dead thrastil coming as well," the delver revealed.

  For the first time, Ryson believed he saw apprehension in the expression of the behemoth. The uncertain reflection appeared so uncharacteristic, the delver almost stepped back.

  Dzeb's face nearly always revealed emotion, from uncomplicated joy to raw disappointment. Usually, the giant's features held the peaceful calm and harmonious acceptance of his unconquerable beliefs. Looking at Dzeb often offered a glimpse of untainted tranquility.

  It was reassuring to see such unwavering faith, but Ryson had also seen anger and determination in the giant's eyes, especially when Dzeb faced those he believed threatened the peaceful existence of others.

  What the delver could not recall was ever seeing a look of torturous doubt. That one expression raised more concern than all the wailing groans of the undead or their incessant pounding on the wall.

  "Do you think we can stop it?" Ryson questioned, suddenly filled with even greater uncertainty.

  "If it is Godson's will," Dzeb finally replied.

  The rather vague statement was not nearly sufficient for the delver. Dzeb might have been able to communicate in some mysterious way with Godson, but Ryson could hear no comforting voice in the wind. He needed more from the giant.

  "Do you have any ideas on what we should do?"

  Dzeb remained silent as he took a long look into Ryson's face.

  "Dzeb?" Ryson pressed.

  "I will follow your lead, Ryson Acumen. You have alway
s found a way. I have faith you will do so again."

  It wasn't what the delver wished to hear. He had no idea how to fight a thrastil, living or dead. He had hoped the giant's strength would give them at least a chance, but Dzeb was ready to move on faith in Godson... and apparently a faith in Ryson. The delver found such sudden weight terrifying.

  Before he could say more to the behemoth, Ryson heard Klusac call out.

  "Ryson! We're almost ready. Will the giant help?"

  "He'll do whatever he can," the delver answered as he moved to the captain's side. "I've asked him to keep the entrance clear after we open the gate. Once he goes through, there should be plenty of room for your soldiers to fall in behind."

  "Where will you be?"

  "I'll go over the top of the wall. I'm betting once the gate is opened, those things will start moving toward it. A space will open up somewhere. I'll jump down and start working through the crowd."

  Klusac nodded in agreement. He didn't wish to contain the delver. To do so would be like shackling a horse during a joust. It was an unnecessary impediment and a waste of the delver's greatest abilities.

  Realizing he faced the first major encounter under his leadership, the captain decided to ask for counsel. He didn't want his soldiers to think of him as too cautious or indecisive, but foolish pride led to errors in judgment. If he was to command the entire guard of Burbon, he would do so with a mind to their best interests and not his own.

  "Any advice?" the captain asked of Ryson. "You've dealt with these things before. How should we attack?"

  Again, it appeared as if a far greater responsibility than the delver ever desired had been thrust upon him. Burbon's captain of the guard requested a suggestion for tactics in front of nearly every soldier. Ryson didn't want the outcome of battle hinging on his advice, but too many eyes looked to him for encouragement and too many ears listened for words of wisdom. He started talking before he could appear confused or hesitant.

  "Have them go after the limbs. I know it's not what they've been trained to do, but I think even if you knock the heads clean off, those things will keep coming. The biggest advantage we have is they're already in a state of decay. They're not very durable, so it won't take much. Remind them that everything out there is already dead, even the humans. Strike everything quick and hard. We can't hold back."

  "Very well. I will spread the word. We'll be ready in a few moments, and then I'll signal for the gate to be opened."

  Ryson wanted to go back to his discussion with Dzeb, but the cliff behemoth had moved into position behind the gate. There were too many soldiers around, and Ryson couldn't afford to create any further doubt in their minds. What they faced was daunting enough without adding talk of whether it was even possible to defeat the coming thrastil. And he certainly didn't want the soldiers rallying around some idea that he would lead them to victory.

  He put aside his fears over the approaching thrastil. With only an initial plan of attack, he would have to focus on the undead monsters around the wall. At least he didn't have to worry about killing them. As he had informed Klusac, they were already dead.

  He leapt back up to the top of the wall. He pulled the two war blades from their sheaths at his hips. The curved blades were not long, but they were sturdy. He would be fighting in close quarters and a blade in each hand would allow him to do as much damage as possible in the shortest amount of time. He did not savor the coming conflict. The fight would be as grim as it was grisly.

  As Ryson looked over the throng still beating upon the wall, he considered his own strategy. Speed would keep him alive, but he also had to work with the soldiers. Efficiency in movement was just as important as avoiding the grasp of any undead monster.

  With the guard ready to open the gate, Ryson took one last moment to focus beyond the waiting throng. He sniffed the air as he attempted to find traces of an odor beyond the unimaginable stench of the undead legion; no simple task. He also tried to hone in on a disturbance further in the distance, to hear the sound of cracking trees over the pounding on the wall under his feet. Again, it was not easy, but he believed he could finally hear the snapping of large trunks and the crashing of falling limbs far off to the west. The thrastil was indeed on its way.

  Just as the delver returned his attention to the shifting mass below him, the soldiers pulled open the gate. A myriad of undead creatures spilled through the opening, but their incursion past the wall was short-lived. Even as dozens of the moving corpses took unsteady steps passed the threshold, they were met by a mighty hand that swatted them back with such force that the throng actually fell back away from the gate.

  Dzeb moved with surprising quickness. Despite his size, his arms slashed through the mob like the blades of a windmill in a gale force storm. With one blow, he crushed shags and goblins alike, smashed their decaying bodies into near dust. River rogues flew across the clearing; their thick, scaly skin remaining intact but their bones pulverized within their folding carcasses.

  Inspired by the destruction of so many undead, the soldiers fell in behind the behemoth with zeal. Led by their captain, they pressed out to the sides of the gate, forming a wide wedge. They struck with mace and sword while holding sturdy shields to block the counterstrikes of their foes. They smashed and sliced through arms and legs, dropping dozens to the ground in the first melee.

  With each monster that fell—no longer able to rise on broken legs or reach out with shattered arms—the bodies shimmered slightly and then grew still. The magic departed and left heaps of unmoving corpses.

  Ryson watched the initial stages from the top of the wall. Time was precious, but so too was the information he gathered. He gauged the movements of both the soldiers and the undead.

  Certain of what he needed to do, Ryson leapt out into a small portion of open ground slightly to the left of the opened gate. Twirling about like a whirlwind, his war blades sliced through the limbs of every creature around him. When the corpses fell to the ground, they formed a small obstacle that offered the delver additional room. Just as other monsters staggered over the fallen bodies to reach him, he turned directly toward the western gate and plowed through the throng until he reached the wedge of guards. With a stunning leap, Ryson jumped over the line of soldiers and into the cleared space in front of the gate.

  Ryson watched the movement of the undead legion to ensure his plan worked as he hoped. He saw broad lines of the enemy switch their attention from the town wall and lurch along the trail of corpses that led to the soldiers. In turning the waves of undead toward the town's defenses, he achieved his objective.

  In a blur of motion, he leapt back up to the wall and raced further to the north. After spotting another small clearing, he completed the same maneuver and created another trail back to the wedge.

  Again and again, he repeated the process even as the soldiers continued to spread out from their original formation. By enticing the undead to follow him, he kept a constant surge of monsters flowing directly to the guards' position.

  While Ryson snaked through the horde, Dzeb crashed through it, leaving large swaths of destruction in his wake. He left the head of the soldiers' wedge and surged outward on his own through the sea of moving corpses.

  He smashed bloat spiders into pulp, sent hooks hawks flying back into the forest, and stomped goblins into broken piles of debris. Frighteningly relentless and astonishingly quick, the cliff behemoth downed hundreds of the undead as he waded through the shifting mass. Even the largest of shags fell before his might, and none could even scratch his thick skin.

  Under Klusac's direction, the soldiers fanned out from the open gate, expanding the wedge with each swing of a sword or mace. Once one row of the undead fell, the soldiers stepped quickly around and over their victims and back up against the edge of the ghastly legion. Guards in reserve moved up quickly into the spaces that opened between the soldiers as their line of attack continued to surge forward while maintaining its outward curve like a large elf bow. They never
had to chase after their foes, for the delver kept a constant flow of undead creatures flowing toward their lines.

  Hundreds upon hundreds of animated monsters fell to Burbon's defenses. Soon, the entire western edge of the wall was cleared and only a meager few monsters staggered out from behind the hills or past the trees of the forest.

  Their confidence swelling, the soldiers' bowed line broke at the center. Half swung to the south and the other half to the north. They pushed through the clearing, trapping hundreds more of the undead between their line of shields and the town's wall. Swinging swords and maces continued to slice and crush the undead invaders.

  With unyielding determination, Dzeb and Ryson rushed through the ranks of animated monsters and quickly reached the eastern border of the town. The creatures they did not eliminate were forced toward Burbon's guard. Dzeb's raw power and Ryson's speed nearly cleared the eastern wall when Ryson had to abandon the undead and return to the edge of the forest.

  Sprinting around the soldiers at the edge of the clearing, the delver made his way back to the western portion of Burbon. He leapt up to the top of the wall and then on to the tower roof. From his heightened position, he could see trees in the distance falling in great waves. The cracks of limbs and branches had grown louder than the conflict with the undead, and the delver knew the thrastil would soon be clear of the forest.

  Racing back to the line of the soldiers, Ryson located the guard captain.

  "You have to pull back, bring everyone inside the wall."

  "We're not done yet," Klusac disputed. "There's still a few left. Not many, but..."

  "We've done enough, more than I thought we would," Ryson revealed. "But the thrastil is closing in on us. You can't have your soldiers caught outside when it gets here."

  "I'll give the signal to fall back," Klusac allowed without further argument. "How do you suggest we deal with the thrastil?"

  Ryson didn't have an answer, at least not one he liked.

  "Use lookouts on the tower to keep track of its movements," Ryson finally advised. "If it breaks through the wall, let it pass and deal with the stragglers of undead that will probably follow it inside."