The lucky intervention of a heavily armored gnomish vehicle saved Shadow Company from the worst of the flames. The steel behemoth rolled across their path and crushed all but two of the flame-infested creatures bearing down on the denarae, then continued on in search of more foes to destroy. Metal, it seemed, was immune to the spreading of the flames.
Gerard finally got a close enough look at the creatures to see that beneath the flames they were, in fact, the same mutated souls they’d been fighting since the beginning. The damned creatures writhed in unending agony and torment as the flames licked at their flesh without consuming, cursing them to endure the inferno without hope of relief.
Cursing them… Gerard mulled the thought in his mind for a half second before he kicked his dakkan into a dive to bring him closer.
“Steady, Sabor, don’t get too close,” Gerard said aloud. “Your scales already look like fire.”
Hovering over a pair of the flaming creatures who had been hacked to pieces, Gerard stretched out a hand and murmured an impromptu blessing, asking God to end their suffering and extinguish the flames. Few were more surprised than Gerard when the fires actually spluttered and went out.
“Hellfire!” Birch shouted from above him. “Of course, damn me for a fool!” He soared down on Selti and hovered next to Gerard. “You’ve got the right of it, Gerard. Only holy intervention can put out the flames. Let’s get some paladins down here immediately!”
“No need,” Gerard said, looking over his shoulder. The men on the wall had witnessed Gerard’s success, and a large group of paladins was already drifting to the ground from the Barrier in search of flames to put out. Within a few minutes, they had all but the worst outbreaks under control, but Gerard ground his teeth as he saw the disruption the attack had caused in his defenses.
“Here they come!” Garet shouted.
Before the mortal defenders could reorganize and rebuild their lines, the next wave of damned souls crashed into them. The press of creatures was so strong, it was impossible for anyone to see beyond the reach of his sword, and gaps quickly started to show in the lines of the human battalions. The dwarves dug in their heels and refused to break or give ground, and the gnomes scattered at the first contact and used their devastating weapons to clear wide paths through the infernal army. Siran and the Elan’Vital held with ferocious tenacity, and after only a few minutes the mutated souls began to avoid the elven company as much as they had Shadow Company.
Overhead, damned souls mutated into flying shapes swept in thick droves around the dakkans and gnomish flying machines. The gnomes on board lit fuses on small explosives and threw them at clumps of the flying creatures, but after the first few devastating explosions the damned souls learned to stay spread out and not attack in clusters. After that, the airborne pilots had more success dropping their explosives to the ground, but they had to avoid the twisted souls that tried to grapple their way on board the flying machines to claw at the pilots.
The machines that relied on hot-air balloons to stay aloft fared poorly. Small lesser demons later identified as gremlins flew on leathery wings and landed on the balloons, where they tore great rents in the material with their claws, and the machines quickly started to lose altitude. Only three of the six made it back to the city and the plains beyond before they were forced to land, two others shifted course and landed in the nearby Earthforge, but one ─ the first to be attacked and the most heavily damaged ─ crashed in the midst of the Hellish army and was quickly swallowed by the black tide. A few seconds later, an explosion tore the ship apart from the inside, incinerating dozens of twisted souls.
The gremlins also made their way onto the mechanized gliders and fixed-wing aircraft and took great delight in ripping vital machinery to shreds in only a few seconds.
The paladins flying on their dakkans tried to keep the creatures away from the flying machines as best they could, but there were only a few hundred of them in the air, versus several thousand of the demons and damned souls, and they were quickly overwhelmed. Two dakkans collided as their paladins tried to avoid swarms of the flying beasts, and the two human riders were thrown clear from their mounts. They controlled their falls, fighting off damned souls as they glided lower, and one of the dakkans swooped down and caught them both. The second dakkan had broken its neck in the collision and fell into the courtyard with the broken green Stone. The few people in the courtyard hastily threw themselves clear as the already-dead dakkan struck the ground with a resounding crash.
Two of the fixed-wing machines went down as flying creatures collided with the propeller on front and jammed the machinery. One careened to the north and followed the balloon ships into the Earthforge, but the other pilot lost control and the machine crashed in the heart of the city somewhere. Both pairs of gnomes from each airship jumped clear in time and drifted slowly toward the ground with enormous squares of canvas billowing out above them. Their escape was short-lived, however, as flights of winged monstrosities swarmed the helpless gnomes. None reached the ground alive.
- 2 -
All of this Gerard watched with despair as he saw the mortal forces slowly but surely overwhelmed by the unstoppable tide of damned souls that swept over them. Then the lines of battle below him solidified and the crushing black wave was held at bay, first for five minutes, then twenty. Gnomish pilots learned better how to avoid the clinging demons and to shake them free when they did catch hold of their airships. The paladins flying overhead gathered in groups of three or four and drove the flying creatures like cattle into other groups of paladins. The damned souls were caught between the two forces and annihilated.
Just as Gerard began to have hope again, a new force arrived, not rushing forward like the tide of damned souls, but striding slowly and confidently. A wedge of thirteen figures strode through the horde, parting the sea of monsters and walking on the dry land between. The foremost figure radiated authority and command with a palpable force, and Gerard knew he was seeing the enemy general. The thirteen figures were all dressed in gleaming armor with a mirror-like surface, and black cloaks streamed out behind them.
Gerard watched as the wedge breached the lines of damned souls, making a beeline for Shadow Company. Just as they reached the front edge, all of the damned souls rushed to pin down the flanks of the denarae company, and the thirteen warriors sliced into Michael’s platoon like it was so much butter. Denarae were swept aside like leaves and left broken and bleeding on the ground.
With a howling curse, Gerard sped his dakkan toward the ground as fast as the fire-scaled creature could go. At the last second Sabor pulled up and swept upward into a steep climb, but Gerard was no longer in the saddle. Just as his dakkan pulled upright, Gerard released himself from the harness and rolled, back-flipping out and away from his mount. He glided down, then dropped the last half dozen feet to the ground and landed with his feet spread wide, his knees crouched, and shield point-first in the ground. His sword was already in-hand, and he looked up into the eyes of the foremost black-cloaked warrior, who had just broken through the denarae lines. The enemy warrior held a sword with an ebony blade, and brilliant scarlet blood ran down the black surface in small rivers.
Garnet, Danner, and Trebor had shifted over to help Michael’s platoon, and with their help they were holding the other twelve warriors at bay. Strangely enough, they seemed to fight with less ferocity now that their leader was through the denarae lines and facing Gerard.
“Gerard Morningham,” the warrior said, and Gerard felt a shock go straight through his body. He knew that voice. “I see I have your attention.”
But it can’t be him, Gerard thought. He’s dead.
“Malith?” he asked in disbelief.
Malith chuckled darkly and lifted his visor, allowing Gerard to see the familiar face within. Or at least it resembled the Malith he had once known. Now his eyes were pure black, like deep pools of molten obsidian. His face was harder, more pitiless and dangerous than Gerard remembered it being.
“Surprised to see me?” Malith asked. “Alive?”
Before Gerard could reply, Malith leapt forward and swung his sword, an attack Gerard easily parried. Malith clapped his visor back down, and the two warriors circled each other. A denarae soldier, seeing Gerard engaged, rushed Malith from behind to surprise him, but somehow over the din of the battle, Malith sensed his approach and reacted. The black-cloaked warrior spun lightning-fast and cut the denarae in half from shoulder to hip in one swing, then whipped back around before Gerard could even think of reacting.
“Relay to all Shadow Company,” Gerard thought, putting as much force as he could so his soldiers could hear him; he didn’t want anyone else slain during their personal battle. “Concentrate on the battle. Do not approach me or my opponent.”
Aloud, Gerard said, “What the Hell are you doing here, Malith? And with their army?”
“Oh, I’m not just with their army, Gerard, I’m leading it,” Malith replied, confirming Gerard’s fears. “I was given a choice by my master: to join him or be tortured and eventually slain. After a few months of the latter, I chose the more promising option. It certainly sounded more appealing than an afterlife of selfless servitude in Heaven. Now I am a Black paladin.”
Malith attacked again, a blinding series of attacks even Gerard could only just manage to parry. Against average opponents, and even most so-called masters, Gerard could quickly batter past their defenses and wound them at will. But this was no ordinary opponent – Malith was as skilled or better than Gerard, which made him cautious. Gerard had to study him carefully and bide his time to work past his sword. Malith backed off and laughed maliciously. The sound echoed sinisterly in the confines of his helmet.
“Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven,” Malith quoted the heretical adage, then added, “better to be at the right hand of the Devil than in the path of his destruction.”
“And so it took mere months to turn you from a White paladin of beauty into a Black paladin of sin,” Gerard said with deep scorn. “How did a coward like you ever come to share the Red cloak with the likes of Birch and me? He withstood their tortures for six years and never yielded. Your paltry time was nothing more than an itch in his backside, you mewling weakling. God must have been drunk when He made you a White paladin.”
Gerard couldn’t tell if Malith was upset by his taunting, but the Black paladin launched a furious assault that battered Gerard’s sword and shield every which way as he attempted to block the blows. Malith’s sword rang against Gerard’s armor, cutting into various pieces but not scoring through to the flesh beneath. Gerard retaliated and succeeded in scoring several similar hits, but likewise his blade came away unmarked by blood.
“You still don’t understand,” Malith said, his voice calm, but harsh. “I was chosen to lead. I was destined to lead this army. All my training in this world was only so I could serve Mephistopheles and command his forces. He knew I was coming. He knew I would serve him, and he knew I would succeed. It was all foreordained.”
“I thought only God could know the future,” Gerard commented, suddenly attacking without a definite pattern, changing angles and attacks at random. It was a tactic he’d used against Garnet quite often, because it took an opponent several seconds to decipher the complicated attack, which had some underlying logic and structure. The changes in form had to be done by sheer instinct, but the attacker still had to be ingrained with what attacks could be transformed into others and which were irrevocable commitments of energy. Studied long enough, there were subtle patterns and relationships that could be gleaned by an opponent. Garnet eventually no longer needed to discern the pattern; he was able to see past it and turn the attack back on Gerard in ways that even he could not defend against. Gerard knew Garnet was now better than him.
The question now: Was Gerard better than Malith?
“So many things you don’t understand,” Malith said, stepping back to recover from Gerard’s attack when he eventually broke off. The Black paladin had suffered several minor injuries where he hadn’t been fast enough to block Gerard’s perplexing assault. The two paladins circled each other warily. “And now it’s too late for you.”
The Red and Black paladins attacked each other as only two masters of the blade can. The standard forms of attack and defense were ingrained as memories in their very flesh, but in the years since their last duel, each had progressed and mastered different abilities. Malith attacked with a skill Gerard had never seen before, perhaps not even in Garnet, and he scored several deep cuts in Gerard, who in turn used every trick he could think of and succeeded in blooding Malith almost as badly. After five minutes, Gerard knew the answer to his question, and it filled him with despair and anger.
Malith was better, and they both knew it. He could practically see Malith’s smile behind his visor as they broke away from each other, both panting for breath. Gerard’s shield had a deep wedge cut in the top, and the metal spike at the bottom had broken off during the battle. Malith’s armor was stained with mud and blood, and several pieces of metal were now missing where Gerard had knocked them free.
“I always wondered who was better, between us,” Gerard said through clenched teeth. A deep wound on his thigh burned like someone was holding a red-hot poker to his leg.
“Really?” Malith said, his voice betraying no hint of pain. “I never doubted.”
I’m going to die, Gerard realized in a detached sort of way, as though he’d just decided to go to the market.
Malith attacked again with a seemingly endless supply of energy, and Gerard forced his body to react and defend himself. He knew Malith would kill him, but perhaps he could take the Black general with him. Gerard’s acceptance of his own death brought him a strange sense of peace. Perhaps his life had served its purpose for God, and now his death would serve its own purpose - so be it. Gerard was determined to face his inevitable death with the same courage he’d championed and embodied his whole life.
I will not kneel and accept death! he shouted in his mind. I am a mean son of a bitch and I will die on my feet, sword in hand, screaming in defiance!
As Malith finished a series of attacks that forced Gerard to expend more energy blocking than the Black paladin spent attacking, Gerard suddenly turned to the offensive, allowing the last attack to glance off his shoulder. Malith was taken by surprise at the abrupt shift, and Gerard scored a deep hit on his opponent’s sword arm. Without pause, Gerard attacked again and again, knocking Malith’s shield aside and punching through the armor on that side, narrowly missing the Black paladin’s left arm. Malith was visibly baffled and confused by the sudden onslaught.
There was no longer virtue or vice, vengeance or justice, no hatred of Malith or concern for Shadow Company. There was no fear of death, nor hope of life. There was simply the determination to live this moment with the same force of will and integrity with which Gerard had lived the rest of his life. This instant was a distillation of every experience and moment of his past, focused and concentrated as the culmination of his existence. There was everything and nothing at once.
Gerard continued his furious assault, drawing on reserves of strength he’d never before reached even as he felt his life bleeding too swiftly from his body. It felt like he was tapping into the energy of his very soul, and the feeling of living energy poured through his being faster than his blood could drain it from him. The few people who could see the duel would forever swear they saw Gerard start to glow with an inner light.
Malith’s sword was held low because of his damaged arm, and his shield was too far on his off-side to do him any good. Gerard spun and swung his sword at Malith’s neck. The blessed blade sang through the air, then sparks flew as Malith’s black-bladed weapon suddenly blocked the attack, causing Gerard’s blade to skip up. His sword clipped the top of Malith’s helmet and tore the protective metal from the Black paladin’s head. Ignoring the helmet, Malith brought his sword around, caught Gerard’s blade and swept it to the ground. Without pause,
Malith smashed his foot down and shattered Gerard’s sword. Then he looked up at Gerard’s stunned face.
Malith’s eyes bored fiercely into Gerard’s. He smiled mirthlessly. With a fierce calmness, Malith ran his black sword through steel, through flesh and bone, and through Gerard’s heart.
- 3 -
Garnet cut down one of the black-cloaked warriors, another Black paladin, and turned to see Danner engaged with two more nearby. Garnet rushed over and lopped off one warrior’s arm before he knew Garnet was there, then finished him off quickly. With only one opponent, Danner defeated the Black paladin in short order, but Garnet was already looking for another enemy to face.
He turned to look inward and watched in disbelief as Gerard fought against the leader of the Black paladins. Garnet shook his head and blinked rapidly, convinced his eyes were playing tricks on him – was Gerard glowing? He gaped in wonder and saw Gerard swing in an attack that should have severed the Black’s head from his shoulders. But impossibly quick, the blow was blocked, and a second later Gerard’s sword was broken and the enemy warrior buried his sword in the Red paladin’s chest.
“NO!” Garnet shouted in horror, the world contracting around him. He rushed forward, shoving aside the mutated creatures that still hammered at them from all sides. He bashed creatures with his shield and swept his sword to either side, cutting off heads and arms without even seeing what he was doing. Garnet had almost reached the Black paladin when the ground beneath him started to tremble. Garnet lost his balance and fell to his knees.
Then the ground split open and a huge demon with four arms erupted right in front of Garnet. He swung his sword and lopped off one of the creature’s arms, then finished it with a chop to the neck. All around him, though, demons began to erupt from beneath the feet of Shadow Company and the other defenders of the Barrier. Garnet saw the denarae shift to react to this new attack, but their weapons either bounced off the demons’ hides or else made only shallowest of cuts, which were healed over a moment later.
The Devil's Deuce (The Barrier War) Page 42