Indie grabbed a man’s shield and flung it and the Saban attached to it into the river and kicked another soldier to the ground. A young, brutish Rathgar named Triglav swung a massive hammer made from the trunk of a tree, knocking Sabans out of the way as he followed Indie. With their opening, the Urufen could slip through. The feral Berserkers went straight for the throat, bypassing armor, clawing, biting and ripping at the soft spots.
Combatants from both sides began slipping on the accumulating gore beneath their feet. Soon, the surviving Sabans and Twileens raced across the bridge to the safety of their main force. Raegith cheered and signaled the advance.
As he brought his crew forward, he realized his army was not slowing.
His pace quickened and he began shouting as Beretta lit up the sky with the signal to hold position. His warriors ignored his shouts and the signal flames, letting their bloodlust overrule their commands. Raegith’s warriors may have been more ferocious than the Rellizbix forces, but they lacked discipline. In seconds, they had nearly claimed the entire bridge.
“Hold, dammit! Hold!”
His cries did not reach them. As the Greimere warriors crossed the bridge and broke for the north side, a fresh Saban line formed to meet them. The Saban soldiers backpedaled and their formation expaned in unison, like a bubble filling with the eager Greimere. Dozens of Urufen and Rathgar overextended their charge and found themselves on the north shore of the river inside a closed arena of shields.
Rellizbix had baited a third of Raegith’s army into their perfectly organized circle of slaughter.
The very ground beneath the separated Greimere warriors attacked. Vines and spikes erupted from under their feet, impaling and ensnaring them. Inside the formation, the wind swirled into a cyclone and erupted in flames. Raegith looked across the river as nearly a hundred of his warriors were annihilated in an instant. Urufen darted for a quick escape, but the Saban bubble sealed off their escape, halting reinforcements.
The sight terrified the remaining warriors on the bridge, who unused to the cold precision of the Rellizbix army in open combat. Most had not yet witnessed the power of Faeir Battle Mages standing confidently behind a wall of Saban steel. They abandoned their charge and fled back across the bridge to Raegith.
“Grass-Hair, what happened?” Indie approached Raegith, trying to catch her breath. Her armor had held, but some of the straps on the left side were gone and a deep gash bled all over her side. “Where is the Bulwark?”
“The fools advanced too far, Indie.” Raegith looked to the south side of the bridge where a group of Rathgar had barely gotten the spiked sled wall. “We have to get them back on that bridge.”
“Did you not just see what happened out there?” Helkree grabbed him by the collar and stared directly into his eyes. “They just took out half of our warriors. Now they’re coming across the bridge to finish us off. We need to form back up.”
“It won’t matter, Hel. The Mages won’t cross the bridge, but they won’t need to.” Raegith pointed out to where the Sabans had collapsed their bubble and started advancing across the bridge. “If they reach our side, they’ll bulk up and stack their shields. With the numbers we have right now, we’ll never retake it.”
“What’s Brimgor doing?” Indie pointed her axe out to the bridge where the towering Agillian waded through the retreating warriors and moved toward the approaching Sabans. “He’s not turning any of our warriors around.”
“He’s going to take on the whole fucking army by himself?” Helkree screamed. “You dumbass, get back here!”
Brimgor did not hear Helkree or just ignored her as he neared the advancing wall of shields. He roared with eagerness as he closed the gap with a sprint. Two of the Sabans broke rank to flank the charging Rathgar. Brimgor spun across the right shield while arching his back to avoid the left soldier’s sword swing. With his axe, Brimgor hooked the left soldier’s shield and swung the man into his counterpart. The second strike snapped like lightning into the back of the soldier’s head, bursting blood and brain matter across his partner’s face.
Kicking aside the dead soldier. Brimgor hooked the living one and flung him into the advancing shield wall. With a quick swipe, Brimgor lopped the Saban’s head off in front of his fellow soldiers. To drive home the point, Brimgor kicked the decapitated soldier in the gut and a fountain of blood doused every Saban on the front line.
Brimgor shook the bridge with a stomp and howled. Without warning, the Agillian threw his shoulder into the shield before him and buckled the line. A sword shot out from behind the shield to gut him, but the rampaging Rathgar swatted it aside with such force that the blade skittered across the bridge and into the river below. Brimgor leapt into the air and swung his axe down onto the skull of a soldier, cleaving through the helmet and dropping the Saban like a log. The Sabans hit him with shields and pushed him back as they covered the hole, but Brimgor kept at them. His axes lashed out in rapid succession and the soldiers could not adjust their shields to attack for fear of losing a limb to the howling tornado of muscle and steel before them.
“He’s holding them,” Raegith screamed, pointing at the bulwark. “Get that sled on the bridge! Move dammit!”
The Rathgar grouped up behind the bulwark and began to push it onto the bridge. The sled weighed nearly a thousand pounds and as they reached the bridge the sled legs caught on a six-inch lip and halted. The Rathgar scrambled to lever the skids over the lip, but fear broke down their communication.
A huge form bounded past Raegith. Indie ditched her armor and sprinted for the sled, yelling “move.” The Rathgar in front of her shifted in time for the giant woman to slam into the back of the bulwark. Indie rumbled like an awakened leviathan and the cords in her neck bulged. Her trembling arms shook the entire bulwark as the sled lifted off the ground.
One inch. Two inches. Three inches. Blood flowed out of her wound and the great, rippling muscles in her back spread like wings as the indomitable Helcat lifted a twelve-foot, spiked wall that required half a dozen Rathgar just to push.
The bulwark lurched forward as the sled legs cleared the lip and Indie dropped low, digging her boots into the dirt to push the bulwark forward. Raegith called for the Blade Dancers and raced for the bridge with Helkree.
Thirty Lokai brandishing long spears raced from the trees and converged on the bridge behind the moving bulwark.
The Soldiers continued their attempts to flank and close in on Brimgor, but the Agillian fought tirelessly. He darted from side to side, faster than anything his size should have been capable of, knocking Sabans off the bridge and hacking at their shields to keep them at bay. At least fifty armored Sabans stacked up in front of the lone Rathgar, but they could not get past him. When they finally surged forward as one, Brimgor dropped low and spun with both axes, taking the legs out from under four men and opening a hole.
The soldiers fell back and closed up the hole. Fifty Sabans against one Rathgar and the Sabans went on the defensive. Two Sabans on each side crept along the edge of the bridge, staying as far out of his reach as possible to force Brimgor into a flank.
Raegith saw the Saban movements and turned to grab Qufeng by the collar. “Can you back him up?”
The Lokai girl glanced at Raegith and without a word, bolted for the side of the bridge. Dropping over the side, she moved hand-over-hand across the ledge. The Saban soldiers on the right never saw her as they focused on outmaneuvering Brimgor.
With a swing and a leap, Qufeng rose up behind the first Saban and yanked him backward by the shoulders while kicking the backs of his knees. The armored soldier toppled backward over the ledge and into the river. The second soldier immediately turned to engage, but Qufeng stepped inside his guard.
Twisting his arm outwards and popping upward at the wrist, she disarmed him and kicked his knee sideways. This took him off balance enough for her to throw him over her hip and into the river. As more soldiers came for her, she dove over the railing and caught it with her hands. Her
body slammed into the side of the bridge, but she did not fall.
Qufeng called out. “Brimgor, the bulwark is here! Move!”
The Agillian slammed into both Sabans on his left and took them with him over the edge into the river, laughing the entire way. The remaining Sabans stood against a mobile wall of tree trunks and iron spikes. They put their shields against the spikes and tried to stop the Greimere advance, but the Blade Dancers fed their spears over the bulwark and into any gaps they could find.
The soldiers screamed at those behind them to retreat as they found themselves pinned between their comrades and the steady wall of death.
Izanami appeared beside Raegith along with her two most accomplished Witches. “They’re nearly here. Are you ready?”
Helkree pulled her tomahawks from her back, cracking her neck to the side with a snarl. Raegith pulled Qufeng onto the bridge and placed her in charge of the bridge assault.
Izanami dropped the black robe from her shoulders, exposing her pale, stitched up skin. She wore no clothes underneath her robe save the black ribbons that criss-crossed from piercing to piercing like some dreadful corset woven into her flesh. Since joining Raegith on his quest, several Lokai chose to become pupils of the ancient Witch, but none were as dedicated to the “flesh adornments” as Izanami.
The two Witches sliced their wrists and carefully solidified and braided cords from the blood that poured forth. Blood magic took a toll on the neophyte Witches, but their techniques served to amplfy Izanami’s power. Forming the ends into hooks, the Witches threaded them in Izanami’s awaiting back.
Izanami arched her back and pushed her chest forward as the blood-formed hooks entered her flesh. The Witch turned her head to the side, staring at Raegith with her opaque, red eyes as she elicited such a low, lustful moan that the Warlord averted his eyes.
“Bitch, are you done?” Helkree glared at Izanami as the Witches behind her extended the blood cords and knelt in meditation. “Think maybe we can end this battle before you get off?”
“It’s amusing that even one such as you, Helkree of Edge, are naïve to the pristine pleasure of agony.” With a chant, Izanami took a deep breath and grabbed the hands of Raegith and Helkree.
Raegith turned to Helkree. “Now we strike back.”
In the next instant, the three of them stood in the middle of the Battle Mage formation. A Terrestrial Mage turned and saw them, eliciting a single yelp of surprise before Helkree cleaved his lower jaw from his face.
Izanami moaned and began to collapse from the exertion of the distant jump. The crimson ropes tugged against her back and she disappeared.
The group of Mages cried out as Helkree and Raegith unleashed upon them without hesitation. Dodging rising vines, Raegith ignited his fists and drove a straight punch into the closest Mage. The Faeir flew backward into his colleagues, bowling them over and breaking bones with the impact. Unlike Sabans who would have closed with Raegith and tried to bring him down, the Faeir tried to gain distance. Raegith grabbed the robe of a fleeing Aerial Mage and pulled him down into a face-destroying headbutt.
Among the Faeir, Helkree was a badger inside a cage of paper dolls. She knew the score; a good Mage needed only a few yards to open up a geyser of flame beneath her, but they couldn’t do so as long as one of their own would die in the blast. Helkree bounced from one Faeir to the next, never letting herself stand in open ground. She pushed and pulled them, herding them back into their own group as she twirled and hacked.
In seconds, the two of them had killed half of the Mage Battery and the rest lay strewn about the ground, too maimed or terrified to conjure their magic. The rear guard moved to intercept Raegith and Helkree. The two Greimere took cover behind still-breathing Mages as hunters and soldiers converged on them.
A war cry rose above the battle sounds as Yumiko and a wave of Reapers charged into battle on Rellizbix’s side of the river. The rear guard turned to form up to meet this new threat, but the Reapers changed course and made for the backs of the soldiers holding the bridge. Behind the Reapers a group of two dozen Turned Urufen galloped toward the rear guard. Upon the back of each Urufen rode three Gimlets with loaded crossbows. The confused Sabans grouped tight as the Gimlets sped past on the left flank and fired crossbow bolts at them.
Circling as they reloaded, the Gimlets took another pass and loosed a second volley into the unprepared troops. The Hunters adjusted, taking down two Urufen and their passengers. Panicked by the sudden loss, the rest of the Gimlets dispersed. By then, the Reapers had circled around to the rear guard’s right flank, riding into the unprotected Twileens.
Raegith reached out to snag Fenra’s fur as she passed by him, yanking himself onto her back. Together, they charged the group of six horsemen sweeping down from the rear camp to save the fleeing Mages who had managed to escape Helkree and Raegith’s rage. The Saban cavalry wore regal purple cloaks over their armor that billowed in the wind. They carried long claymores across their backs. These elite horsemen could decimate a tight group of infantry and turn the tide for Rellizbix.
The lead horseman altered his course to intercept Raegith as the others spread to allow their commander a full swing of his great sword. As the two forces closed, Raegith leapt from Fenra’s back and soared through the air. Fenra returned to her normal form mid-stride and tumbled across the grass to avoid the Saban’s swing. In the same instant, Raegith rocked the horseman with a flying sidekick that ripped the man from his saddle.
The two tumbled to the ground across from each other. Raegith popped up to his feet and brushed off the clinging grass. The Cavalry Captain took a bit longer to recover before squaring off against him.
“Traitor,” the man yelled, lunging forward and jabbing with his sword.
Raegith darted away and danced on his toes. “You should have ordered your men not to come back for you.”
Raegith nodded behind the Captain, to where the cavalrymen had turned only to be buzzed by Gimlet archers atop Urufen. In a volley of bolts, the horses were killed underneath the armored Sabans. Two of the men were immediately pinned beneath their mounts. The others struggled to reach their Captain.
Helkree reached them first. Their large swords cut only air as the Helcat slipped their attacks. She caught one in the exposed side and then turned to the others. As the wounded Saban recovered and aimed for her exposed back, Fenra crashed into him, dragging him to the ground and tearing out his throat with her clawed hands.
Helkree used the same foot movements as Brimgor, but her young body managed with much more grace and flexibility. She arched around sword swings as her long arms snapped out like vipers, whipping the blade of her tomahawk into the soldier’s skull then recoiling with blinding speed. Instead of parrying strikes, as Brimgor would, she dodged them altogether, stepping toward her attacker the instant his blade passed her.
The veteran soldiers, ponderous in their armor, were unsuited for combat against such a foreign and furious fighting style.
“You’re barbarians… all of you.” The Captain’s words drew Raegith’s attention away from Helkree. The soldier stood ready to fend off all three of them. “You most of all, Warlord.”
“You have men watching this battle from afar, yes? And, like you, they know who I am from some sort of description?” Raegith ignited his hands and took his stance. “Good. I want them to witness what manner of demon comes calling.”
Raegith lunged in and slid into the dirt as the Captain swung for his midsection. Raegith dug into the grass and dirt with his knees and slapped up at the blade as it passed over him, knocking the soldier off balance. He hopped to his feet and drove into the soldier with a flurry of punches that sent tremors through the shiny armor.
The Captain stumbled backward, but recovered and swung again. Raegith slipped the swing and slammed two more punches into the man, the flames protecting his knuckles from the armor. Just like Tiberius, the Captain used the momentum of his missed swipe and swung the heavy sword over his head for a devasta
ting chop.
Raegith reached up with his right hand and planted his palm into the pommel of the sword at the apex of the Captain’s swing; exactly as the Captain’s momentum switched. Raegith needed barely any strength at all to stop him in that moment; like halting a massive log the instant it began to roll downhill.
The Captain’s eyes opened wide, his mouth eliciting a single, “ah.” Raegith met his stupefied gaze with one full of hate. The flames on his left fist intensified and Raegith slammed a straight punch directly into the soldier’s sternum. The punch struck as quick and terrifying as a rouge thunderbolt. The Saban’s armor buckled inward through the man’s ribcage and pulverized the organs it protected. In the same movement, Raegith’s right hand slipped past the pommel of the sword and snagged the guard. As the Captain flew backward, Raegith yanked the sword from his grip and flung it over his shoulder to stab into the ground behind him.
The Saban struggled to stay on his feet as blood leaked from his gaping mouth. He coughed and spat, but Raegith pressed him. “I’ve taken your bridge. I’ve massacred your Mages. As we speak, my warriors are rounding up the last remnants of your defense; those that have thrown down their arms or who are too wounded to fight.”
“Send them back...” The Captain tried to speak, but choked on the blood. “You have the bridge… you don’t need prisoners.”
“Prisoners?” Raegith laughed. With a leap, he cleared the distance between them and thrust-kicked the Captain to his back. “How many prisoners has Rellizbix taken?”
As the Captain struggled to reach his feet, Raegith dropped on top of him. Ripping the helmet from his head, Raegith gripped the grey-haired Saban’s jaws with a steel hand. “How many Greimere warriors have known mercy? How many have received an honorable death?”
Raegith bent his head low, screaming and spitting into the face of the terrified Saban. “This is not a war; this is a reckoning.”
Wrath of the Greimere Page 17