The Gate - An Ancient Connection

by B. N. Crandell

  The general disengaged and hobbled back a step, positioning his sword adequately to parry her ensuing strike. His confidence was waning, but the look in his eye told her that he still believed he’d win out — she had to change that.

  With a flurry of motion she had him hobbling back and struggling to block each attack. Sylestra could have moved quicker but a brief scan of the battlefield had told her that her force had things well in hand. Her only concern was that the human and dwarf army was retreating back toward the Gate but they wouldn’t be able to close it before her warriors got there.

  The orc general smiled a wicked grin after blocking her attacks, obviously thinking she had dished out as much as she could. He came at her with wild abandon, swinging his sword in all directions. Sylestra ducked, twisted, jumped and even backflipped, narrowly avoiding his attacks each time and purposely did not strike back at him or attempt to block.

  Finally she had had enough of this clumsy leader and as he swung an almighty swing, she stopped it cold with her relatively flimsy scimitar. The impact would have shattered any normal scimitar but Sylestra’s was magically strengthened and could not be broken by any normal weapon. The sudden jolt of his arm and the realisation of his exposed position was enough to give Sylestra what she wanted; his look of fear turned to one of agony as her dagger pierced his heart. His body went limp and she shoved it away in disgrace.

  Her worg was still fighting furiously with the general’s and so she grabbed out another wand, pointed it at the beast and released the magic within. Five purple bolts shot out in quick succession which had the worg writhing in agony as each of them struck. Her worg took advantage of this and bit deeply into the prone worg’s neck; moments later it lay unmoving on the ground with blood flowing freely from many wounds.

  The Black Skull orcs had nowhere to surrender and so they were forced to fight to the death. Having already suffered many casualties from fighting the humans and dwarves, it wasn’t long before every last one of them was lying dead on the ground. Not one to waste such death, Sylestra summoned her powers and raised all the corpses; orcs, worgs, men and dwarves all heeded her command and started moving toward the Gate.

  * * *

  Decker watched the corpses rise with dread. Never in his life had he witnessed anything so grotesque. He knew right away that the woman in the centre of the battlefield, now surrounded by these undead monsters, had to be Sylestra.

  “We can’t fight against that,” said Decker to Major Hillsworth and King Buster who were standing next to him.

  “We may not have a choice,” replied Major Hillsworth.

  “If we retreat through the Gate, the magic binding them likely won’t hold,” explained Decker, “not to mention that it’ll create a choke point for them, making it easier for us to defend.”

  “The lad’s right,” said King Buster. “If we gotta fight these things an’ that woman, best we be doin’ it on our own soil.” Major Hillsworth agreed and organised a soldier to go back through and stop the reinforcements coming and then he ordered the retreat.

  “They’ll be on us before we can all get through,” observed Decker.

  “Then we best be holdin’ ‘em off for as long as we can,” replied King Buster as he readied his mighty axe.

  When the risen dead were within range, Decker fired off an arrow. His shot was as true as ever, hitting his target in the chest; the monster didn’t break stride. He fired another, aiming for the head this time and it struck through his target’s eyeball. The undead orc plummeted to the ground, spasmed briefly before lying still.

  “Aim for their heads!” shouted Decker as archers lined up around him. Arrows flew into the approaching throng and all that were struck in the head collapsed but the others kept coming — the imbedded arrows barely slowing them. Another three rounds of arrow fire went off before the risen corpses were upon them.

  Decker put away his bow and drew his sword and dagger. The first enemy to reach him was a human soldier who had a bloody gash in his chest which had obviously been what had killed him in the first place. Decker didn’t recognise the soldier but he still hesitated before he engaged. He had to tell himself firmly that this man was now dead and no longer his ally, that he was doing this soldier a favour by destroying him and allowing his soul to return to Arkadi; he beheaded the undead man in one strike. Decker took a quick look around him and noticed the same hesitation among the other soldiers and all held looks of disgust.

  “They are human and dwarf no longer!” shouted Decker as he engaged the next one — a dwarf this time. “Release them from their slavery!”

  Decker hoped his words had helped but he was so heavily engaged that he didn’t dare look around him. The risen corpses came at them with abandon, having no fear for they were already dead and felt no pain. Most of them did not carry weapons and so would simply claw at the soldiers or try to bite them. Some, however, did carry weapons but wielded them with very little skill — their minds were gone.

  Decker chopped them down one after another with ease, but after a time he felt his arms and legs grow weary and his strikes became much more laboured and clumsy. The fatigue would be felt among all the soldiers now fighting. Worse yet was that their numbers were dwindling as they retreated through the Gate and some were killed. At some point they would be vastly overwhelmed.

  Two undead orcs came at him in a rush with their arms outstretched trying to grab hold of him. He bent down low under their arms and swung his sword with all his might. Being a finely made weapon of the Goldfist dwarves it sliced through bone and muscle with ease and both orcs fell as their lower legs were removed. Decker wasted no time in decapitating them to keep them from rising.

  There seemed to be no end to the undead masses and Decker was well aware that even if they should prevail against the walking corpses, Sylestra had a large army lined up behind them. With Major Hillsworth and King Buster by his side, they had managed to create some room around them. He had a quick look behind him and was relieved to see that the retreat was going ahead quickly. The soldiers were no longer counting to create a gap, but were charging through with all haste. They were all well aware that they were to continue running once they were on the other side and so Decker hoped it was just as organised back on Ka’ton.

  King Buster had obviously noticed the rapidly dwindling numbers behind them too as he shouted, “Right lads, let’s push’em hard and prepare for a hasty retreat.”

  Decker needed no further encouraging as he swung his sword with perfect precision, severing limbs and heads with every stroke. If he fought his way too deeply into the masses, he would kick out hard and force them back causing them to fall all over one another, while he backed off.

  The ferocious fighting continued for some time and they made good headway into the enemy with minimal loss. Arrows flew from behind the undead but very few hit the defenders who were smart enough to use the undead monsters as shields. Finally Major Hillsworth shouted out instructions for an orderly retreat. The men and dwarves on the far flanks were to run for the Gate and the retreat would work inwards from there. Decker realised that meant Major Hillsworth, King Buster and he would be the last ones through — he’d have it no other way.

  With renewed vigour, Decker increased his ferocity, cutting down everything within his reach with recklessness. Suddenly an undead orc leap frogged over another and flew through the air at him. Decker couldn’t get his sword in place in time and so was thrown down with the orc landing heavily on top of him. The orc tried to bite his throat out but Decker held his head back so the orc bit into his arm instead. Decker grimaced through the pain and tried to roll the orc off sideways.

  Just as he did though, others jumped on top of him and started clawing away and biting at his flesh. He was simply overwhelmed; there were too many of them on top of him to have any chance of escape. He got his dagger in line with an orcs neck and sunk it in deeply. The orc slumped forward, pinning Decker’s arms to his chest. He tried to ignore the excruciating
pain and come to terms with his impending death.

  * * *

  Sylestra had climbed on top of a pillar of rock and watched the progressing battle intently. She was impressed with how the humans and dwarves coordinated their efforts perfectly. Her archers were doing more damage to the zombies than the humans and dwarves, so she ordered them to cease firing.

  She watched their retreat strategy as they peeled off from the far flanks like the pages of a closing book. Their defensive lines held steady while a continual stream fled through the Gate. If one of them fell, they would be assisted back to their feet by nearby soldiers. Dealing with orcs for so long, she had forgotten about the camaraderie in battle with humans and dwarves.

  If she was to call back her zombies now and pursue with her living army, they would be too late to stop the last of the retreating soldiers. The humans and dwarves were going to make it. While Sylestra was a little disappointed that she wouldn’t gather any more captives, she realised that her main concern was to stop the closing of the Gate. Already she had slowed down its progress. Her next step was to chase the humans and dwarves away from the Gate so that she had complete control of both sides. It was going to result in a lot more loss than she had anticipated, but she held little doubt that by the end of the day the Gate would be hers.

  * * *

  Decker could no longer feel any clawing or biting and the weight seemed to lessen. He figured it was the result of his body shutting down as he fought to remain conscious. His thoughts drifted to Cressida and an opportunity lost. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was that made her leave in such a way but he was sure that he could have done more to prevent it.

  While growing up Decker kept pretty much to himself. Sure he had a couple of friends that came and went but mostly he preferred the company of animals. His mother had died giving birth to him leaving his father to bring him up alone, which he did extraordinarily well. With so few women in his life, it had left him very naïve about their nature. When he discovered that he had the magic of a ranger, he dedicated his life to the service of Zyneste, goddess of nature. While every other boy his age was chasing girls, he was studying and learning the ways of the wild.

  He knew he loved Cressida with all his heart and the last three days without her in his life had been very difficult for him. Yet Arthea was his home and he was needed so he didn’t feel as though he had the luxury of love. Now, in possibly the last moments of his life, he thought differently and yet it was too late to change things.

  Struggling to open his eyes one last time, Decker caught a blurry glimpse of a familiar face — a powerful dwarf who had been among his closest friends and who had given him free passage to move through the Jasper Ranges whenever he pleased. This dwarf had been like a second father to Decker and had given him many great gifts. His grief stricken face was the last thing he saw before all went black.

  * * *

  “Any ideas, Master Pilk?” asked Duke Angus as they looked down at the hasty retreat from the wall of the fort.

  “We can’t allow that woman or her army to come through, that much I know, but we are many hours from closing it and we’ll run out of mana before doing so,” replied Pilk in a fluster.

  “Can we place something large in front of it?” asked Duke Angus.

  “A temporary solution, I don’t doubt, but it may buy us the needed time.” Pilk looked around the fort for something they could use and his eyes eventually settled on the fort’s corner tower which had been constructed with stone. He did a quick scan for King Buster but couldn’t see the dwarf anywhere. However, he did catch sight of General Ludko so he called him over.

  “General, if we were to smash that tower down do you think you’d be able to drag it in front of the Gate?” asked Pilk.

  “Ay, with this many dwarves we could be draggin’ a tower four times th’ size,” replied General Ludko puffin out his chest. “It’d be helpin’ us if we dinnot ‘ave to drag’t ‘round those buildin’s tho’”

  “Leave that to the wizards,” said Master Pilk, mockingly puffing out his own chest. “Do you have enough rope?”

  “We dinnot bring much. We was expectin’ ta fight, not ta build,” replied the general.

  “I’ll have the men search the fort for any rope,” said Duke Angus, “and Master Tayer can take a few back to Arthea to collect more.”

  “I’ll ‘ave th’ lads take apart th’ buildin’s ‘n’ walls for the log’s, so we can be rollin’ it,” said General Ludko.

  “Well we have a plan so let’s get to it,” ordered Duke Angus. Master Pilk was about to turn around to discuss the plan with the wizards when a battered King Buster and Major Hillsworth dragged a figure he knew well through the Gate.

  “We need a cleric over here!” shouted Major Hillsworth. “And kill anything else that comes through.”

  By the time Pilk got down from the wall and over to his severely injured friend, a number of orcs had come through the Gate. The strange thing was though, that before any archer could shoot them, they collapsed dead on the spot.

  “They are walking dead,” said Major Hillsworth obviously noticing his confused expression. “Seems like that woman’s magic doesn’t follow them through.”

  “That would make sense. Mistress Cali’s invisibility spell did not hold for her and Decker either.” As he mentioned Decker, Master Pilk looked down at his friend and could scarcely believe that he still lived. His clothes and light leather armour were torn all over. He had blood flowing freely from many wounds, his arms and legs were gouged badly and had chunks of skin and muscle torn away, his eyes were red and swollen and his cheeks also badly scratched.

  “A strong fightin’ spirit, that one,” said King Buster.

  Pilk turned to the dwarven king and noticed how badly wounded he was as well. “You also need healing.”

  “Bah, I be still standin’. Fix me friend up here first.”

  A cleric arrived, one that Master Pilk knew well and a good friend of Decker’s — Koren.

  “Oh no! Decker,” said Koren in distress. “Stand back please and give me some room. Can someone get me some water?”

  Major Hillsworth turned to a nearby soldier and asked him to fetch some water.

  Master Pilk’s attention returned to the Gate where no more of the undead were coming through. “We’ve got to obstruct the Gate and fast. Look after him, Koren.” It was an unnecessary request, but he felt so helpless. He wished that Cressida were here as she was the most skilled cleric he knew. As an afterthought, he pulled a small vial from his belt and gave it to Koren, instructing him to pour it gently down Decker’s throat. It was the last of the healing potion he had and the ingredients for it were expensive and rare, but it’d go a long way to healing his friend.

  * * *

  Sylestra had ordered the remaining undead to pull back, knowing that the magic that had animated them would likely not follow them through. She also raised the recently fallen and instructed them all to march with all haste to Gnash — mentally transmitting directions as to how to get there. Very few necromancers had the power to control animated corpses at such a distance. Sylestra was powerful enough that she could send them all the way back to Chakun if she so chose.

  She ordered all the worg riders to line up in twos and get ready to charge on her command. Following the worgs, she arranged rows of four, with two archers in the middle and a warrior on both sides. While she waited for the zombies to clear the area, she imparted her plan to the army. Once all was set, she ordered them to charge.

  * * *

  The tower came crashing down as Master Pilk’s fireball exploded and a large chunk of it fell on top of the logs that the dwarves had laid out. Ropes were swiftly tied to every part of it possible and lines of dwarves grabbed hold of the ropes and began pulling while others pushed from behind.

  Ever so slowly the collapsed segment of the tower inched forward while dwarves collected the logs from the rear and lay them down again in front.

  Pilk along with th
e other wizards set about destroying all the buildings that stood in the way while men and dwarves cleared away the rubble. An almighty ruckus had Pilk looking at the Gate in despair.

  Worg riders recklessly charged through in great numbers. A lot were being shot down by archers set up strategically around the fort but the ones making it through the barrage caused mayhem. The worgs weren’t easy to bring down and each arrow that hit them without killing them served to increase their fury.

  “Keep th’ tower movin lads,” yelled out General Ludko. “We gotta plug th’ hole.”

  Knowing that it’d take many more minutes for the tower to be in place, Pilk cast a firewall spell right in front of the Gate. While the worg riders came through so fast the fire didn’t have a chance to catch hold, but it did set the beasts into a fury making it impossible for their riders to hold on. This caused a great amount of chaos near the Gate and as it became more congested, orcs and worgs alike were being incinerated by the fire. This gave the defenders a chance to kill those running around free in the fort.

  “You promised us that if fighting should break out on this side that you’d get us out of here,” said a wizard coming up beside him.

  “I did indeed.” Master Pilk sighed. “Follow me.” He led them to the top of the closest wall and created a gate that exited as far into the grove as he could clearly see. He instructed them to go through it and gave them directions for how to get back to Arthea.

  “You’re not coming with us?” asked the same wizard.

  “No. We still have a chance to seal the Gate and while that is so, I will remain. Any others that wish to remain also are welcome to do so.” Pilk turned, picked out a nearby target and unleashed a powerful lightning bolt. The worg spasmed uncontrollably and threw the rider who was also shaking. Both were swiftly finished off by nearby soldiers and one of them looked up at Pilk and gave him a wave of thanks.