The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection

by Harrison Davies

  Jericho leapt aside, and the hard metal object struck the forehead of the King’s guard who had managed to untangle himself. He fell hard and unconscious.

  The leopard prepared to pounce, and Thuun steeled himself. With a mighty roar, Jericho made his move. As he leapt at the King, he heard the shrill voice of Coinin calling for him.

  He turned his attention to the voice for just a moment and received a blow to the jaw so intense that he blacked out.

  Coinin witnessed Thuun’s attack and saw the black leopard careen from the box to fall heavily to the arena floor. The animal did not move.

  Coinin wasted little time. He called to his brother. ‘Marrok; the General is hurt! Help me!’

  Marrok faced Coinin and cursed. ‘I’m a little busy right now,’ he called back.

  Coinin saw that Marrok and the others were hastily shoring up the arena gates, while a horde of guards on the other side tried to force their way in.

  Amid a hail of stones, Coinin ran as fast as his legs could carry him to the prone General. The old soldier had transformed back into his human form and lay there naked.

  Coinin removed his shirt and draped it over Jericho, then knelt down beside him. He inspected a large welt that was forming along the General’s right cheek. It appeared to be swelling more and more with each passing moment.

  Coinin lowered his head over the General’s face and listened for breathing, repulsed by the blood surrounding his mouth and neck.

  Jericho let out a terrifying bellow and sat up sharply. Coinin fell to his rear end, his heart racing.

  ‘By God, you scared me,’ Coinin said, now white as a sheet.

  Jericho failed to respond and continued to look dazed with a glassy stare.

  Coinin placed an arm around the man’s shoulders and gently shook him. ‘General?’

  Jericho flinched and turned to the voice unseeingly.

  Coinin saw that the soldier’s eyes looked odd. They had not changed from those of a leopard back to human eyes and gave the man a strange appearance.

  ‘General Jericho, it’s me, Coinin. Can you hear me?’

  Jericho seemed to be unaware of Coinin’s presence for a moment, and then after wincing in pain and bringing his hand to cup his jaw, he looked at the Curator and cursed. ‘What happened?’

  Coinin smiled out of nervous relief. ‘The King struck you.’

  Jericho rubbed his jaw. ‘That man can really punch.’

  ‘Do you hurt anywhere else?’

  Jericho checked his limbs one by one and shook his head. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

  ‘Can you walk?’

  The General closed his eyes. ‘Give me a minute; I’m still a bit disoriented.’

  Marrok and Len’i joined them. ‘We don’t have a minute; look.’ Marrok pointed to the gates of the arena.

  The gigantic ogre had finally reached the gates and was busily trying to rattle them from their iron hinges. The gates creaked and groaned, and the prisoners were beginning to understandably panic.

  Jericho, with visible pain and stiffness, stood and crossed to where his clothing lay in a pile. He quickly and painfully redressed and marched towards the gateway. He looked sideways at Coinin who had joined him. ‘Do you have your magic back yet?’

  Coinin was puzzled briefly and then remembered the reason Jericho had just risked his life. He raised his hand and attempted to cast a simple shield charm. The best he could muster was a faint blue glow that surrounded his hand. ‘It’s weak, but returning.’

  ‘I guess it’s up to you and me,’ Jericho said and clapped his hand on Marrok’s shoulder.

  ‘What do you have in mind?’ Marrok smiled.

  The experienced mind of the General had assessed the attacking forces’ strength, and he had already begun to form a plan that would permit them to live at least five minutes longer.

  ‘We’re being attacked on two fronts. The ogre and guards in front, and if you care to look behind, you’ll see a handful of pirates attempting to scale the arena walls.’

  Marrok looked behind. ‘How do you know this? I can’t see anyone.’

  Jericho shrugged and touched his nose. ‘I can smell them.’

  After witnessing the man turn into a leopard earlier, he took the soldier at his word.

  ‘If you take a handful of men and deal with the ogre situation, I’ll handle the pirates and rejoin you,’ Jericho suggested.

  ‘My favourite thing, bringing down giant monsters,’ Marrok said, somewhat sarcastically, before racing away to greet the other prisoners led by Hur’al.

  Jericho faced Coinin. ‘Curator, you will stay out of the way and get that magic of yours to full strength. Now, go and hide, that’s an order.’

  Coinin recoiled. ‘You’re giving me orders, General?’

  ‘When it comes to your safety, yes.’

  ‘That’s fair enough. I’ll find somewhere safe and try to make myself invisible.’

  ‘If you can pull that off, then you truly will be a master of magic,’ Jericho chuckled. ‘I am, however, not sending you alone. Len’i, will you please guard the Curator?’

  Len’i stepped forward and nodded. ‘With my life.’

  Jericho gripped the Orc’s arm briefly before racing away to protect the rear.

  Coinin looked around and sighed. Where in an open arena would he find somewhere to hide, especially with a giant Orc in tow?

  Marrok approached Hur’al and offered an arm in friendship. ‘Marrok Wulf. What can I do to assist?’

  Hur’al took the arm and gripped tightly. ‘Hur’al Menin. About time you showed up. If you want to help, address the men. I seem to be losing them.’

  Marrok let go of Hur’al’s arm and approached the front line. ‘I am General Marrok Wulf, Order of The Wulf. If you want to survive this day, I suggest you do as I say and stick together, for only together can we hope to defeat that monster. Attack the creature’s legs. As they say, the bigger they are … and for Rindor’s sake, stay away from its hands.’

  His fancy title and commanding demeanour seemed to sway the nervous prisoners. He continued by ordering the frightened conscripts into a semi-circle opposite the gates. They obeyed and hunkered down behind barrels that had been positioned earlier. These would afford a measure of protection against missiles, though it would prove useless against the ogre. Each held a rusting sword or spear and waited fearfully for the gates to fail.

  With a final roar, the gates did just that in dramatic fashion. One leaf was thrown clear over the heads of Marrok and his conscripted soldiers.

  ‘Steady! Hold the line,’ he yelled, sensing a panic building amongst the defenders.

  The right-hand gate hung loosely on a single hinge, and the ogre barged through the remains knocking over several guards in the process.

  ‘Remember, go for the legs, and weave and dodge,’ Marrok yelled, his sword raised in readiness. He held a look of determination on his face. Next, to the giant, he had killed during the temple battle, the ogre was potentially easier to slaughter. However, those long arms that almost touched the ground were huge and the monster’s oversized hands, disproportionate to the rest of the body, looked to be very capable of tearing a man in two.

  Marrok bounced on the balls of his feet in preparation for what was to happen next.

  The ogre bent its head, took a deep breath and then raised its head before roaring amid an inordinate amount of saliva. Two of the defenders rose quickly and ran in fear of their lives.

  ‘Stay where you are!’ Marrok ordered, fearful that the rest would bolt.

  The ogre charged and the defenders stiffened, yet the beast swerved past them and lumbered towards Coinin who was hiding behind a crate at the far side of the arena.

  Marrok took a step to chase the beast down and was stalled when a spear sliced into the deck just in front of him. It reverberated where it landed and only ceased when Marrok wrenched it from the platform’s grip and turned it on the enemy.

  A dozen or so guards, donned in chain
mail, were converging on his position, weapons at the ready. He cursed and sheathed his sword, then raised the spear. Using both hands, he twirled it defensively.

  One or two guards lunged at him and promptly received the flat of the spear to the head. They howled in pain and backed away, rubbing their sores as they did so. The next guard attempted to swat the spear with his sword, only to see his weapon shatter into three and fly in all directions. To add insult to injury, Marrok drove the spear into the man’s thigh and twisted for good measure. He withdrew and dodged a halberd that had just been aimed at his head, and then retaliated.

  Coinin took a sharp intake of breath and almost screamed. There was no doubt about it now; the ogre was heading directly for him, a hungry look in its eye. Without his magic at full strength he was defenceless, and any magic he cast now would surely have no more effect than a mosquito attempting to pierce the hide of a dragon.

  He and Len’i had no other option than to run and try to keep ahead of the creature. They jumped over the crate and bolted through the middle of the fighting crowd. Marrok was on the left at the gates and Jericho on the right. He was busy stabbing at anyone who tried to climb the fish net barrier.

  Who was winning, Coinin had no idea; his only thoughts were of escape. Only fate had other plans. He tripped on a raised plank of wood and landed hard. Len’i caught up to him, and before he was able to offer assistance, he was struck by the ogre. He flew through the air and landed, knocked out, several feet away.

  Coinin, temporarily winded, painfully stood and turned back to the ogre just in time to see a colossal hand envelop him. Whisked off his feet, he was raised into the air by a triumphant ogre, its eyes glinting in delight.

  Coinin kicked and struggled to free himself and quickly gave it up as a fruitless exercise, before growing angry for allowing himself to be captured.

  The ogre brought its hand to its grotesque face and peered at the contents with beady black eyes.

  Coinin felt suddenly very ill, partly thanks to the thought that this creature was about to eat him, coupled with the hideously overwhelming rankness of its breath. The ogre’s mouth dripped thick slobber, the hand inching closer to its mouth.

  Coinin began to hyperventilate, and he closed his eyes. He did not want to see what was about to happen, no doubt excruciating pain followed by death.

  Through his closed eyelids a sudden bright red flash caught his curiosity. He opened his eyes, dreading what he was about to see.

  He immediately noticed that he was very cold and wet, and to his surprise, the hand and arm of the ogre had turned to ice. Had he done this somehow?

  The ogre let out a cry of pain and swung the ice arm left and right as if to try and dislodge it. It had become an alien thing to the creature and a source of great pain and therefore must be gotten rid of.

  Unfortunately for Coinin, caught in the middle of the ice hand meant that he too was in pain as his head repeatedly struck the sides of the ice channel surrounding him, each time the ogre swung its arm.

  A dark shadow blocked out the sun and enveloped them both. Moments later, a series of explosions, like loud thunderclaps, rent the air behind him. Less than a minute later an odd whistling sound followed by a boom puzzled Coinin until an iron cannonball struck the ogre on the forehead. The skull of the creature caved, and its eyes rolled into the back of their sockets. The massive bulk fell backwards amid a loud gurgling sound followed by a dust cloud.

  A cry of ‘cannon’ punctuated the air, and right on cue, two more booms signalled that cannon fire was raining down on them.

  Coinin looked up and spotted the hull of a ship floating above him. It appeared to be much larger than The Falcon, and that made him wonder who had fired on the ogre. Or were they aiming at him, and had missed?

  More booms, panicked cries and splinters of wood filled the air as a portion of the spectator seating exploded into a shower of debris and body parts.

  The rate of cannon fire increased, and more precise targets were chosen. The arena walkway vanished into piles of firewood, followed by the King’s private box which collapsed on itself, taking all inside with it to suffer terrible crush injuries as heavy timbers rained down on the occupants.

  Coinin first cheered and then yelled for help. ‘Marrok? Help!’

  He need not have yelled; Marrok had joined him moments earlier and had clambered onto the ogre’s chest. He peered over the lip of the ogre’s hand.

  ‘Coinin?’

  ‘Oh, thank Rindor.’

  ‘It’s good to see that you have a firm grip on the situation.’

  Coinin pouted. ‘A joke, really? You chose this moment, while we’re under attack?’

  ‘Why not? The pirates are on the run like the cowards that they are.’ Marrok smiled. ‘Thanks to our friends in the sky.’

  Behind Marrok’s bloodied face, Coinin witnessed long thick ropes drop to the arena floor from the ship, and seconds later a couple of people shimmied down them. Coinin then focused on Marrok. ‘Will you stop smiling at me like an idiot and get me out of here?’

  ‘Sorry, I’m just happy to see you safe.’

  ‘You’ve turned into a true soft-heart of late, so stop it, I want the old Marrok back.’

  Marrok grinned. ‘I’ve changing, get used to it.’

  Marrok raised his sword and brought it down hard on the ice fingers gripping Coinin. After several blows, the ogre’s fingers parted with a satisfying crack and a shower of frost.

  Coinin tumbled from the ogre’s grasp and landed spread-eagled on the creature’s massively bloated stomach. Like a coracle caught in a choppy sea, he clambered down the huge gut and dropped to the ground.

  Marrok joined him a few seconds later and uncharacteristically held his younger brother in a vice-like hug.

  ‘For a minute there I thought I’d lost you.’

  Before Coinin could respond, two Brotherhood soldiers jogged up to them.

  ‘Sir,’ the older of the two soldiers saluted, ‘we’ve been instructed to escort you aboard the ship and ensure your safety.’

  Marrok released Coinin from his grasp, and the latter raised his arms in thankful submission. ‘I’m all yours. Lead on,’ he said, the relief evident in his voice.

  The small party hurried towards the waiting ropes that hung from the sides of the ship. The ropes swung in a light breeze and had to be held taught by a spare man.

  ‘How did you manage it?’ Marrok asked.

  ‘Manage what?’ Coinin asked puzzled.

  ‘You turned the ogre’s arm into ice, did you not?’

  ‘I’m not aware I had. I thought someone else had done it.’

  ‘Well, the spell definitely came from you. I saw it with my own eyes.’

  ‘I find that hard to believe.’ Coinin shrugged. ‘But if you say so.’

  Jericho hurried up to them. He was soaked in blood and sweating profusely. ‘That was close,’ he said.

  Marrok looked the man up and down scanning him for injury. ‘Where are the pirates?’

  ‘From what I can tell, the ship has them cowering like dogs in what appear to be a series of caves or tunnels on the far side of the quarry,’ Jericho replied. ‘Those who attacked us ran like the dogs they are.’

  ‘You are correct, Sir,’ the younger of Coinin’s guards affirmed.

  ‘Why haven’t they run for their ships?’ Marrok continued.

  The younger guard smiled proudly. ‘Major Quindil ordered the ship to destroy the quarry entrance. We dropped several barrels of gunpowder. It was a spectacular sight, Sir. The walls caved in, and they’re not going that way.’

  ‘Will you lot hurry up before they grow backbones and cause us problems?’ the familiar voice of Quindil called down to them from above.

  Coinin shielded his eyes from the sun’s glare and looked up to see a pale-faced Quindil peering down at them from the bulwarks. ‘How’d you expect me to get up there?’ he demanded irritably.

  Quindil raised his hands in exasperation and then jiggled
the rope nearest him.

  ‘You aren’t serious? Have you seen my arms? You, with your one arm, would have better luck.’

  ‘Fine, I’ll drop the cage for you. Let’s waste more time, shall we?’ Quindil cursed.

  ‘Stow that attitude Major, when you address the Curator,’ thundered Jericho.

  Quindil saluted and nodded. ‘Aye, Sir. My apologies, Curator,’ he said, then disappeared.

  ‘Go easy on him, General; he’s just saved us,’ Coinin addressed Jericho quietly.

  ‘Don’t worry; I will. He deserves a medal, though I must maintain discipline in sight of the men.’

  The port side cannons spit flame once more, and the ship rocked slightly. Coinin and the others firstly covered their ears and then witnessed a barrage of cannon shot impact the walls of the quarry some distance away. They chuckled as they watched a handful of pirates attempt to scramble back into their caves, making a poor job of it as they fell over one another to escape death. The gunner, Coinin noted, was not firing directly at the mouths of the caves, just near enough to keep the enemies’ heads down.

  ‘He’s a damned fine shot that young man,’ said Coinin’s guard. ‘What’s his name? Angle?’

  ‘No, his name’s Axl,’ replied the other, and cheered as a new volley of missiles was released.

  ‘Coinin, if I may?’ Leni said, tapping the Curator on the shoulder. ‘I trust you will be taking us all with you?’

  Coinin looked astounded that Len’i should even ask the question. ‘Without a doubt, each man, woman and Orc have earned their freedom today. Of course, you’re coming with us.’

  Jericho stepped forward, and Coinin sensed the man was about to object. ‘General, please see to it that anyone who wishes to join us today is taken aboard. That’s an order.’

  Jericho frowned deeply, bit his lip and nodded in compliance. It was evident he was unhappy, perhaps over some potential security risk to himself. That was all right, he would speak to him later in private, though for now, a debt must be repaid.

  Hur’al and the remainder of the prisoners joined the small group under the ship. Coinin’s guards were instantly on alert until Coinin intervened and stood them down.