Steel meet steel and the swing’s strength shook him to his core. The orc roared in frustration. He hefted the heavy two-handed weapon for a quick follow up.
With his free hand, Dain drew the tomahawk from its loop at his waist. He dodged left as the orc swung. Before he could counter, the orc pivoted on one foot and brought his weapon around in a flat, wide arc, trying to slice him open.
Dain retreated back a step; he heard the razor-sharp blade hiss angrily in passing. He stepped in closer to make a short slash with his sword.
The orc adjusted his grip on his wide warblade and brought it close, like a shield, blocking Dain’s sword. He slid the axe-head up and shoved Dain’s blade high overhead before swinging a gauntleted fist.
Dain saw the blow coming and slapped it aside with the flat of his tomahawk, but was forced to withdraw again as the orc slashed down with another hard swing.
Both combatants were breathing hard now, and Dain took advantage of the moment’s respite and charged the Light into both his blades. They began to glow a bright, crackling yellow, ready for a hard strike.
The orc lunged toward him, swinging the heavy blade around in another sweeping arc, and Dain stepped back once more as the sharp edge flashed by. The orc bellowed a challenge and stepped forward, throwing his weight into an overhead slash this time.
Dain raised his sword to parry the blow. The two blades clashed and a bright pulse of Light flashed from the charged weapon. Though a good deal heavier than Dain, the orc was knocked flying back, colliding with a small tree trunk and splintering it.
Rushing forward, Dain hoped to take the orc while stunned, but the orc grunted and ducked his sword just as the weapon’s blade sliced into the tree instead and cut the shattered trunk cleanly in half. The recovering orc struck with his boots then, kicking Dain clear.
Dain rolled back, fighting for breath and losing his grip on his sword. He gripped his tomahawk, its blade still glowing a faint yellow, and raised it in defense.
The orc smiled now, his ivory tusks gleaming as he stood.
Dain knew he would never be able to reach him with the short axe. He looked like a child holding a toy weapon compared to the orc and his massive warblade. In vain, his eyes searched for his missing sword while the orc approached. There had to be a weapon with more reach somewhere…anywhere…
Desperate, he drew the dagger from his waist and held it point-down in his left hand. It didn’t give him more reach, but holding two weapons felt better all the same. He took a slow, calming breath. There had to be a way to get inside the axe’s long reach.
The orc stepped closer, just outside of the tomahawk’s range, and swung hard, flat, and level toward him.
Instead of retreating this time, Dain took a half-step forward and brought the tomahawk up to intercept the axe.
The charged edge hit precisely where he intended, just behind the heavy axe head. A burst of Light exploded from the weapon as it shattered the larger axe’s wooden shaft and sent the head spinning off out behind him.
Without stopping to breathe, Dain drew close to the surprised orc and drove the dagger deep into the brute’s exposed chest. He brought the still-glowing tomahawk up, and then down splitting the orc’s thick skull above his right eye.
Exhausted, Dain collapsed to his knees in the powdery snow.
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was well after dark when Dain returned to Galena. He had walked the entire way with Boon carrying Maib’s body. He unloaded the colonel in the hospital, placing him in one of the ground-level beds and draping him with a plain white sheet. He couldn’t think of anywhere better to leave the body.
The hospital was quiet. Only the patients remained—Verdant and the two priestesses were noticeably absent. Dain headed toward the hotel, searching for the priest, then noticed a large group of miners gathered outside The Slide’s office. Orange torchlight lit angry faces in the crowd. Miners and merchants alike were shouting and gesturing with drawn blades. He couldn’t make out their words, too many spoke at once, but their voices were raised. Finally, one voice rose above the others.
“Folks, we know you have a lot of questions, but we just don’t have a lot of answers yet,” a tall man said, addressing the crowd from The Slide’s wooden porch. He stood over them on a small, four-legged table. The man wore tailored black clothes and his overcoat’s neat row of oversized brass buttons reflected the crowd’s torches. Dain had never seen him before, but judging by his appearance, he must have been The Slide’s operator, Wheeler. A ring of armed guards surrounded him while he spoke.
“I know, I know. This is damn frustrating for me as well, but we need to give them time before demanding any answers. Those men have been seriously wounded, and may not make it through the night. The healers from the hospital are in there, doing their best to see to their injuries.”
The healers from the hospital? Dain began pushing his way through the crowd to reach the front.
“Where the hell’s our gold?” another voice erupted. “I been mining here since the beginning, and I ain’t got an ounce out of this cursed valley yet.”
“Look, we just don’t know yet. Neither man was in any shape to talk when they made it in,” the Wheeler replied. He held his hands out, palms down, motioning for the crowd to keep calm. “If you would all just stay patient, we’ll have our answers.”
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m riding out to find my gold. I worked too hard to lose it now,” the angry miner said.
Dozens of other shouts rose up from those pledging to ride out with him.
“Now, now folks, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. Any orcs strong enough to wipe out the army won’t have much trouble with a bunch of miners,” Wheeler said. “We also need to be sure everyone gets their share when it’s found.”
“You crooks just want to get your men out there first, so you can take it all for yourself. You don’t fool me, Wheeler. I saw a bunch of your guards ride out just an hour ago,” another man in the crowd growled.
Dain had reached the front window by this time. He peered inside the office. A pair of hanging kerosene lamps lit the building’s interior, and he caught sight of Shyla and Tessa first, then spotted Verdant.
Tessa held pressure on a blood-soaked bandage wrapped around the leg of an injured man as he lay, stretched out, on a large table. Verdant knelt over a second man on a nearby cot and chanted, while pouring healing spells into the man’s gaping chest wound. Locks of curly hair had fallen over his face and sweat dripped from them. Shyla stood to one side, clutching a double handful of white, shredded bedsheets.
Wheeler’s ring of armed guards prevented Dain from advancing further. Unwilling to start a riot by breaking through them, he hammered at the window, rattling it violently, until it almost shattered, before finally drawing Shyla’s attention. The plump priestess scrambled to the door and it burst open behind Wheeler.
“Wheeler, let that man in here,” she commanded, pointing her finger. The mine operator acted quickly but the guards, focused on controlling the crowd, had to be told twice before they parted. Dain bounded up the short staircase to the door.
“Which one do you need me on?” he asked as he entered.
“Help Verdant!” Shyla bellowed.
Dain knelt down opposite Verdant and began to draw Light into himself. Only now after seeing the wounded man’s face did he recognize Dax, and the severity of his injuries. The huge wound on his chest was matched by a second, down on his thigh. A dozen smaller injuries oozed puss and blood. He gauged the extent of the scout’s wounds, and knew that he and Verdant couldn’t save the scout. Too much blood had been lost, the injuries too severe. He glanced toward Tessa. In her patient, a low ranking soldier, there was a better chance for success. But that chance was limited and dropping. To make a difference, he had to act now.
“Verdant, this man’s too far gone,” Dain said quietly, and not without difficulty. “He’s bled out and doesn’t stand a chance. We need to put both
our efforts into the other soldier to save him.”
“Shut up and help him, you oaf!” Shyla yelled.
Ignoring her, Dain reached out and shook the priest’s shoulder.
“Verdant…Verdant, do you hear me? He’s gone. There’s nothing left for us to do for him. We need to save the other one.”
Dain took in the absent, haunted look on Verdant’s face and knew his friend either wasn’t listening or was so intent on his task that he was unable to comprehend. He stood and circled the cot to reach the other wounded man.
Shyla met him halfway. The priestess grabbed his arm and jabbed a finger into his chest.
“Lout, listen to me, Verdant said to save this one. Now, get to work!” Shyla snarled as she tried to push him back down. Her face was purple with rage and her eyes bulged.
“Priestess Shyla, please—” Dain started, but she only pushed harder.
Arguing with her would do no good. Out of options, he grimaced and slugged her with a closed fist, aiming for swift unconsciousness, not harm. She dropped like a boulder into his arms, and he laid her, none too gently, on the floor before joining Tessa at the table’s edge.
Blood oozed from the second man’s wounds, trickling off the table then gathering in a shallow, crimson pool on the floor. Willing his breathing and heartbeat to calm, Dain raised his open palm skyward. Immediately the healing spark sprang to life. The strength of his abilities had grown from their more frequent use in the hospital’s service, but without Verdant’s help, he still doubted it would be enough.
He was vaguely aware that the crowd outside, including Wheeler and his guards, had stopped arguing to stare at what was happening in the mine office. Verdant’s prayers had ceased along with his efforts, and he remained kneeling, too exhausted to rise and staring blankly at the wall before him.
Saving the last soldier’s life was in Dain’s hands alone now.
The bright spark in his open palm pulsed and shimmered with concentrated Light, throwing strange shadows around the room. It grew steadily to the size of a melon as he fed every ounce of strength he had into it. Its crackling white brilliance outshone the dingy yellow lamps in the office, illuminating the crowd outside as if it were full noon. He strained, filling himself with power, until he thought he would burst. For an instant, he paused, holding as much Light as he was able. He had never held so much. He basked in its glory. Then he buried the spark into the wounded man’s chest.
Pure white Light burst from the patient and radiated out in every direction, ignoring the building’s walls and stretching into a brilliant sphere more than a dozen feet across. The Light held there for a moment, seeming to absorb sound itself, draining it from the air, and then slowly withdrew back into the wounded patient. Panting and grinning, Dain marveled at it, at the sheer strength of it, before darkness took him.
Dain woke disoriented. None of his surroundings were familiar. There had been an orc and a healing and…nothing after that. Several minutes passed before he realized he was in the hospital, laying in one of the first-floor beds. His weapons were slung over a nearby chairback, and he remained clothed, but his boots were gone. It took a moment to sit upright, find them, and tug them on.
Slowly, he stood and then washed his face in a small basin at his bedside table. Remembering Maib’s body, he saw that it had been removed from where he had left it. He stepped out of the hospital doors to check on Boon. A scout’s first duty is always to his mount, his father’s voice echoed in his head and made something inside his chest give an uncomfortable twinge.
Judging by the high sun overhead, it was just short of midday. Dain crossed the hospital porch and rounded the corner. Boon still stood there. Right where he had left him, tied securely at the hospital’s side. Someone had brought him a bucket of water and an armful of crunchy alfalfa hay. He chewed on a leafy mouthful.
Dain’s stomach rumbled. He couldn’t recall when he had eaten last. But before heading off to the kitchen, he stopped and looked the town over.
Galena looked asleep. Normally, at this time of day, the town’s streets should have been busy with miners picking up supplies or businessmen heading off to lunch. Instead there was only Pete, sweeping a light dusting of snow from the front steps of the Bloody Bucket. One solitary horse was hitched to the long front rails that ran the length of main street.
Where had everyone gone?
Dain turned back into the hospital hoping to find either Verdant or Tessa. After last night, he preferred to avoid Shyla. His memory was still clouded, fuzzy, but he remembered knocking the priestess unconscious perfectly clearly. He headed upstairs and entered Verdant’s office, but failed to find the priest there. Returning to the first floor, he made for the kitchen as his stomach gave another loud growl.
He entered the kitchen and found Tessa preparing a stew. Wisps of flavorful steam rose from the cast iron pot as she stirred the bubbling mixture with a large wooden spoon.
“You’re up,” she said.
“Barely. Any chance that’s almost ready?” he asked, eyeing the soup.
“Verdant said you would be hungry after last night. Have a seat and I’ll bring you some bread and a bowl. One of my better recipes, if I say so myself.”
Dain drew back the chair then seated himself where he could watch her. Her auburn locks had been tied back and she wore a full-length apron. If he had never met Sera, he could see how the beautiful, good-natured priestess would have presented quite the tug on his attentions, but now, while he thought Tessa attractive, she was but a pale reflection of Sera. The wood elf’s face would haunt him forever, he feared.
“What happened last night?” Dain asked.
“How much do you remember?”
He was about to respond when Shyla entered the kitchen. She faced away from him, failing to notice his presence.
“When will lunch be ready?” she asked.
“Soon,” Tessa replied. “I was just about to pour Dain here a bowl and to get him some bread. I don’t suppose you would like to dish it up for him, would you?”
At the sound of his name, Shyla rotated her head toward the table and spotted him.
Dain saw her face then for the first time since she’d strode into the room. She wore a huge purple and yellow bruise covering her right eye. The eye itself was swollen shut. Her left eye glowered at him though, full of burning hate.
“Would you, Shyla?” Tessa repeated herself.
Shyla stormed out without responding, slamming the door behind her.
Dain spotted the faintest hint of a smile from Tessa, and thought he heard a small snicker as she brought him a steaming bowl along with a round loaf of bread. It surprised him. He had believed the two were close friends. Most priests and priestesses seemed to be.
“Just a minute and I’ll fetch some water for you,” she said.
“I would prefer tea, if it’s no trouble.”
Tessa sat down opposite him after returning with a brewed pot from the stove and a mug. She poured herself some as well, watching while he ate.
“I remember giving Shyla the black eye. Awfully sorry about that,” he said. He was genuinely sorry for having to resort to blows—especially against a priestess, no matter how ill tempered—but he found that he didn’t regret it.
“No, you’re not. And besides, she needed it. She panicked, and afterward Verdant said you were right in what you did. I think that hurt her most,” Tessa said.
“Well, I’m still sorry about it. I doubt I’ll ever hear the end of it.”
“That woman has been nothing but rude and awful to me since I got here,” said Tessa. “She is a terrible, terrible person, especially for someone who, as a priestess, as a spokesman for the Creator and his holy Light, should be a paragon of virtue. We would all be much better off if she just up and left.”
“I didn’t realize you two weren’t close.”
“Good. I must maintain my composure for the Light. That requires overlooking and forgiving Shyla’s actions when in public. It wou
ld not do for the people here to think their priestesses couldn’t get along.”
“I suppose not.” Dain sipped his tea. “Tessa…I don’t remember anything from last night after releasing my spell into the wounded man. Is he well?”
“He will live, thanks to what you did. Priest Verdant and Shyla cast some additional healings and blessings on him this morning to try to speed up his recovery. He remains unconscious and hasn’t been able to speak yet, though. Priest Verdant isn’t certain when he will awaken.”
“And the other injured man?” Dain braced himself, there was only one answer to that question.
“Didn’t make it. He died before you finished your spell,” Tessa said. “After you passed out, Verdant and I carried you here. Then we went back for Shyla. Verdant said he’d never seen any healing like what you did last night.”
“What happened to the crowd gathered outside? The town looks deserted.”
“Most wanted to go search after the gold, but they decided to wait until dawn at least. A big group of miners, and a number of the merchants, left this morning heading after it. Then the elves came,” she said.
“Elves?” Dain nearly dropped his mug.
“Yes, sent from King Elam. A dozen arrived just a few hours ago. Verdant is seeing to their accommodations, and he is in the chapel with them now. There are no other rooms available in Galena tonight,” she said.
“Any idea what they’re saying?”
“No, I came to get lunch started for you and the other patients. I think some of the larger mine operators are with them. Verdant had Shyla take care of your horse,” Tessa said with another small snicker.
“Lucky Boon’s still alive then,” he replied with a smile. “Thank you for the meal, Priestess. I think I’ll lie back down and rest. I’d love to get to that meeting, but I’m not sure I could walk that far.”
“You are welcome. Priest Verdant ordered me to make sure you rest, so don’t concern yourself with whatever’s going on just now.” Her eyes took on a serious look. “You won’t be giving me trouble with that, will you Dain?”
Kingdom's Forge: Book 01 - Paladin's Redemption Page 10