Da’Nel was horrified and snapped back from the book and gave out a cry. The book slammed itself shut and seemed to dissipate into thin air. Da’Nel got on his hands and knees and began vomiting, the sight of the monster was almost too much for his sanity to handle. Kharisi went to Da’Nel, rubbed his back even as the never-ending cascade of vomit splashed on him. When he had finally finished, Kharisi handed him a cup of water, which Da’Nel drank with greed.
“What did you see?” Kharisi asked.
Da’Nel shivered at the thought and explained to the best of his ability what he had envisioned. The others were stunned into silence, but perhaps Saerus took it the hardest of all.
“So my body is gone then?” he asked, his voice mournful and despondent.
“It would seem so. I’m sorry.”
Saerus said nothing, but there were tears forming in Kharisi’s eyes though they were not his own.
Todrick got to his feet and slammed the bottom of his walking stick into the ground to get everyone’s attention. “We have no time, we must leave at once.”
“And do what once we get there?” Jeremiah asked.
Da’Nel answered. “Unleash the dragon.” The others looked at him with disbelief.
“Can we trust it?” Kharisi asked, sounding rather dubious.
“We don’t have a choice,” Da’Nel countered.
Jeremiah looked out the entrance and almost jumped out of his skin. “We need to get through these vermin first.” He was pointing outside and to the gathering of Wilderen that had come together and stood outside the entrance.
Waiting.
32: Forward, March!
Da’Nel ran to the back of the cave, book clutched tight, as the others stared out at the throng of Wilderen. All was silent but for the rhythmic beating of the staves on the ground. There was a lulling, metronomic quality to it as if they were trying to put them to sleep. Todrick was proving to be the most susceptible as keeping the barrier up was taxing enough, without adding all the other stresses on top. As his eyes closed and snapped open, the barrier would wink in and out of existence.
Jeremiah was the first to notice and pinched Todrick on the side. “Stay awake, or they’ll get in!”
Todrick shook the cobwebs from his head and concentrated even harder, but he struggled. Though he was about as powerful as one could be, he was still human, and still old. His frailty becoming even more pronounced in recent days. Kharisi took his skin of water and threw some in the wizard’s face, earning him the fiercest of scowls. “Do that again and see what happens, elf!”
Kharisi was half tempted to do that, but Saerus brought him to reason. Instead, he looked out at the Wilderen surrounding the entrance. There seemed to be even more than a few moments ago, and all were continuing to bang their staves on the ground. Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!
“There’s no way we can get past them, there are hundreds and who knows how many more coming?”
Saerus saw this himself, hadn’t needed Kharisi to tell him, and despite their dire situation, all he was able to think about was the loss of his body. Much as he tried not to, he couldn’t keep it from Kharisi.
“We’ll have time enough to worry about that, but it won’t matter if we can’t get out of here.”
“I know,” Saerus said, “I’m sorry.”
“I love you Saerus, and I will get us through this, but we need to focus on the here and now. We... I, need you.”
The pounding stopped. A lone Wilderen dressed in an elaborate headdress of bones, feathers, and mummified fingers came forward. It spoke, but all Kharisi heard were growls, tongue clicks, and grunts. He called for Da’Nel but there was no response. “Jeremiah, go get Da’Nel, I think we could use him.” Kharisi kept his eyes on what seemed to be the leader, and Jeremiah ran to the back of the cave where they last saw him.
Da’Nel lay on the ground in a copious pool of blood. The book was open, laying next to him. On the two pages was a drawing of a dragon, its wings spread in flight, horned head lowered, mouth open, flames erupting from its very core. Below the dragon were ants running away. Jeremiah looked closer and saw they weren’t ants, but Wilderen and they were standing in front of a cave just as they were standing outside the one they were now trapped in.
“Kharisi!” Jeremiah called out, taking a step away. He heard the rush of footsteps and the elf’s heavy breathing and simply pointed down.
As Kharisi bent down to check on Da’Nel and look at the book, a shadow fell over the ground outside, and the walls of the cave began to shake. Pebbles and dust erupted from the ceiling, as the darkness outside grew. A loud roar sent everyone ducking for cover, as a gout of flames seemed to appear from nowhere and rained down on the Wilderen, incinerating them in an instant. Those who managed to escape were burned badly, with withered black limbs, eyes popping from the heat ran down cracking and cooking flesh. Their screams of agony were drowned out by another ear-splitting roar and more flames, these setting the trees and grass on fire where some Wilderen tried to hide. Others were pressed up against the shield with their blood and bits leaving smears on the barrier. The war chief was nothing more than a black smudge on the ground, his stave, white ash. Todrick watched with no little amount of glee. As the shadow began to lift and move away, and nothing else stirred Todrick took down the barrier.
Jeremiah and Kharisi left Da’Nel for the moment and went to Todrick’s side, taking in the horrors before them.
“What was that?”
Kharisi let out a small sound of annoyance. “You have to ask that? Did you not see the book?” Todrick’s ears pricked up when hearing that.
“What was in the book?”
“A dragon raining fire over Wilderen, exactly like what happened.”
“Could it have been the one you said was under the castle?”
Kharisi shrugged. “It said it was chained there.”
“What if Da’Nel broke the spell?” Saerus said to the others, though it was Kharisi who answered.
“Just using the book? It seems impossible.”
“It is,” Da’Nel said, struggling to sit up, voice shaky and fragile. All jumped, startled to hear his voice and ran to his aid.
Da’Nel seemed to have aged a thousand years in the few minutes the attack took place. His hair had gone completely white and stuck out as if he’d been electrocuted. His hands were gnarled with arthritis, and he winced with pain as he tried to lean his back against the wall. Jeremiah tried to comfort and help as best he could, but Da’Nel shooed away his ministrations.
Kharisi looked around, cocking his head to one side and then the other. “Where’s Petram?” Everyone looked but didn’t see him anywhere.
He’d disappeared.
“He went for Kiandra,” Saerus said, though this was only to Kharisi. “He must have slipped out when we were watching the dragon.”
“Damn that dwarf! Damn his fucking beardless head!” Kharisi yelled, storming around the cave in a rage, kicking at rocks. As he took another step, he tripped over something and fell. Kharisi bit his tongue and winced in pain but when he opened his eyes, he was face to face with a desiccated corpse. He turned his attention to Da’Nel, hands curling into fists as he lifted himself from the floor. He nudged the body with his foot, and the skin fluttered like paper around the brittle bones.
“What did you do?” he asked between clenched teeth and locked jaw. All other eyes turned to the Druid who appeared nonplussed about the confrontation.
“Nothing. Petram volunteered. As simple as that.”
Kharisi stormed over to Da’Nel, bent down and grabbed him by the front of his shirt lifting him off the ground. “Explain,” he said before throwing him to the ground. Da’Nel let out a grunt and brushed the dirt off his clothes and face.
“Do you think conjuring a dragon comes without a price? He saved all of your ungrateful hides, at his own expense. The book required a blood sacrifice, and Petram did what was needed.”
“You should have told us,” Todrick said, shaking
his head.
“And you would have argued about it, wasting valuable time, and putting us all in further danger. I did what needed to be done.”
“You killed him,” Kharisi said, anger still darkening his face. “We could have found another way.”
“But you didn’t, you were all falling into a trance from the Wilderen. You were all useless.”
Kharisi’s fist shot out, connecting with Da’Nel’s jaw before he realized what he was doing. Da’Nel let him, and wiped the trickle of blood away from the corner of his mouth, and spat out a broken tooth.
“He’s right,” Saerus said so everyone could hear. “I don’t like it, but there is something larger at stake, and Da’Nel had the fortitude to remember that when none of us did.”
Da’Nel bowed his head with respect to Kharisi, knowing that Saerus was watching. “Thank you, Your Highness. It pained me to do so. I’d grown fond of him since we met. Him and Kiandra both, and their loss is like a wound in the universe that will never heal. Kharisi, I understand the anger, but focus it where it belongs, we have much to do.”
Kharisi looked away, tears in his eyes and went back to the body. He kneeled down next to it, his tears falling on the remains. “I will avenge you,” he said, then kissed the forehead before it turned to dust. Taking the dwarf’s weapons, he placed them in his belt as the others looked at him with a mixture of confusion and disgust.
“I’m not stealing them you fool. They will taste the blood of those responsible and will then be laid back here, this will be his tomb, and Kiandra’s if we can find her.” Kharisi wiped the wetness from his face and walked back to the others.
“Time to rest up, and pack up. We leave when the sun goes down. First, we look for Kiandra, and then we march on to take back our kingdom.”
33: A Hard Time
Once everyone had eaten, rested and gotten what little possessions they had remaining together, they set off as the darkness kissed the sunlight goodnight. Jaxon took the lead on the way to the hole he’d fallen into. Along the way were the scattered remains, some still smoking, of the Wilderen.
“There was a lot more than I thought,” Saerus said to Kharisi.
Kharisi gave a little grunt and said nothing else. His mind was still on Petram, and how there seemed to be so little problems with his death.
Saerus sensed Kharisi’s unhappiness though he hadn’t read his mind about them and tried to console him. “I grieve him too, but I’d grieve even more if we lost one another. Petram was like family to me, you know that, and we will honor him, and everyone who sacrificed their lives to reclaim the throne.”
Kharisi gave another grunt and could say nothing more. Not about Petram anyway. The other problem weighing on him was what Saerus would do for another body. From how Jaxon described what he saw, it might be unfit for him to return to if he even could. And much as he loved Saerus, he did not want to spend the rest of his life with him in his mind.
They traveled single file, with Todrick in the back, and Jeremiah ahead of him and behind Kharisi. A small ball of mages light hung over Jaxon’s head so he could see enough and not fall into the pit again. All of them noted that the number of corpses had not thinned out, but remained as numerous as those in front of the cave's entrance. The bodies they were seeing now were only partially burned, leaving them to die an excruciating and painful death.
Jaxon for one was glad to see the carnage and was only sorry he didn’t get to cause any of it. With luck, there might still be some stragglers in the tunnels he could disembowel. He put his hand up, letting others know that he was stopping. He looked around, to get his bearings, as it looked familiar yet different. “Everything looks different under nightfall,” he said to himself. He turned to his right and made his way through more bodies and high grass and stopped again. He turned and leaned into Kharisi so only he could hear what was being said. “Something’s not right.”
“What do you mean?” Kharisi asked.
“The bodies all seem to be headed to the pit I fell into. Looking at the corpses, the injuries a lot of them have shouldn’t have been fatal.”
Kharisi nodded, motioned for Jaxon to follow him and squatted by a group of bodies. Jaxon seemed to be right. The injuries, while severe weren’t life-threatening. He took out the ax that had been Petram’s and swung it at the neck of one of the corpses. The blade cut through with no resistance and the head rolled away with only a small trail of blood behind it. Jaxon did the same to another with the same result. He kicked the severed head as hard as he could and heard it crack open as it landed.
“Nice shot,” Kharisi said, smiling.
Jaxon took an exaggerated bow and felt something grab his leg while doing so. A shriveled burned arm that had been severed was clutching his ankle, digging its pointed nails into Jaxon’s flesh. He shook his leg to try and shake it off, but the nails only sunk in deeper. Kharisi bent down, grabbed it by the remnants of an arm, and tried to pull it off, but only the burned flesh and charred skin came off in his hand. Jaxon started to give out short screams as he hopped around on the good leg, still shaking the other.
“Stop moving!” Todrick ordered, which Jaxon did almost immediately. Todrick then drew symbols in the air and thrust them at the clinging limb. As the spell hit, the arm shriveled and fell to the ground. He then went to Jaxon and looked at the wound on his ankle that was starting to bleed and sting. Todrick applied a poultice that he seemed to draw from the air, and wrapped it over the injury. He then gave Jaxon some dried leaves and told him to bite them and keep them in his mouth and don’t swallow them.
“What happens if I do?”
“You’ll shit yourself to death.”
“Charming,” Kharisi said with an air of disgust.
“Tis the same thing I gave you when your prick was consumed by the whore’s impure cunny.”
“No need to remind me,” Kharisi said, cutting him off. “I remember very well.”
Jaxon was on the verge of spitting them out when the leaves started taking effect. “Let’s go,” he said, slurring his words a bit.
“Is he going to be okay?” Kharisi asked the wizard.
Todrick shrugged. “He should, but watch him just in case.”
Kharisi rubbed his temples and walked away, pondering the rather disastrous start to their journey. “Lead on,” he told Jaxon, and they all filed back in line.
Jaxon’s walk slowed considerably, and he began to weave back and forth and left to right. A couple of times he stopped altogether as if he’d forgotten what he was doing. Everything blurred as he turned his head to look around. Bright spots of colored lights appeared to dance in front of him, and he reached out trying to grab them. Kharisi placed a hand on his arm, and Jaxon broke free.
“Are you alright?” Kharisi asked.
“Never better,” Jaxon answered and began taking off his clothes. When he had all but his boots off, he turned around to Kharisi and grabbed his erect member. “Sword-fight!” he yelled and began slapping Kharisi’s torso with his prick.
“Sword-fight? You couldn’t even spread jam on toast with that, now put it away.” Jaxon ignored him and continued attacking him. Fed up, Kharisi grabbed Jaxon by the balls and squeezed before giving them a sharp twist. Jaxon cried out and pulled away, pulling his pants on, eyes brimming with tears of pain. “Go see Todrick, you can be his problem. I’m sure if I follow these bodies we’ll get to the pit soon enough.”
Jaxon wiped away the wetness and went to the back of their procession where Todrick was waiting for him with another handful of leaves.
“He’s gone mad,” Kharisi muttered.
“No, he was drunk from whatever Todrick gave him. Must have been an allergic reaction,” Saerus said.
Kharisi snorted. “Fine time to find that out.”
“True, but we should get some of those for ourselves, you know for when this is all over. A scientific study,” Saerus opened his thoughts to Kharisi and what he saw made the elf blush and his prick engorge.
> “Not the time, not the time!” he said to Saerus, closing off the filth Saerus continued to flood him with. Kharisi turned to talk to Jeremiah who had his hand down his own pants and was pleasuring himself. “Jeremiah!” he shouted, but the boy took no notice, he was too intent on his own member.
“Da’Nel, I need you!” he called out, and the Druid appeared at his side in a blink of an eye. “What’s happening?”
Da’Nel looked at Kharisi with lust and thunder. He grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed their mouths together. Kharisi could feel his tongue squirm into his mouth like an old, fat worm. Much as he wanted to pull away he found he was unable to, and also, unwilling. He had the urge, no, a need to ride atop Da’Nel’s impressive member all night. He reached between the Druid’s legs and grabbed the long shaft before he was pushed away.
“Succubus!” Da’Nel yelled. “Draw your weapons!”
“Your weapon is certainly hard as steel, bang it on my forge,” Kharisi cooed, lowering his pants and offering his hindquarters.
“I’d sooner cut it off than put it anywhere near you,” he spat, raising his dagger. “Now get your weapon at the ready, we’re about to have company.”
Not taking no for an answer, Kharisi began rubbing his backside against Da’Nel and this time was pushed to the ground.
“Once more, and you’ll be wearing your foreskin as a hat.”
“Promise?” Kharisi asked, heading for Da’Nel again. This time the Druid was ready and raised his hand high and brought it down hard against Kharisi’s cheek, staggering him. Kharisi shook his head, dazed and more than a bit confused. He lowered his head and saw his pants halfway down his legs and pulled them up quickly. “What is happening?”
Errors of the Flesh Page 21