An Adept's Duty: The Scepter of Maris: Book Two
Page 27
Once all were gathered, it was only a dozen heartbeats before the sentries were far enough away from the spot he had chosen. Choss silently signaled to Seval and began his own charge across the ground separating his force from the wall. A dozen Goblins dragged the wagon across the field, their brute strength allowing them to eat up the ground at a loping pace even while pulling the cart along. They were ten feet from the wall when the alarm sounded from beyond the wall, and by then it was too late.
Choss slowed to a jog, allowing the Goblins to run the wagon up against the stone structure. He was right behind Seval and one other Orc as they used the wagon bed and crates stacked within to vault to the top of the wall. Seval and Horic each took a direction to defend, and Choss stopped to help the shaman up next to him. After steadying Lethis he led him a few steps away to clear the path for the rest of his troops.
"Lethis... wake up any of them that might have missed the alarm."
The shaman merely grinned and started tossing orbs of fire out among the closer buildings of the city. He did not burn the few homes right in front of where they were breaching the town's defense, and already Goblins and Orcs alike were flowing up from the wagon and straight over the wall onto the city's dirty grounds. They were easily making the twelve feet drop, and not one of them hesitated as they hit the ground. It was only a few seconds before doors were broken in and Choss started hearing the screams. Seval had made his way back to Choss after a dozen Goblins had been sent to take over defending his section of the wall, and the already bloodied warrior began directing those that reached the top of the wall.
Choss was scanning what he could see of the city while he stood a few feet from the magic user, ensuring no soldiers tried to sneak up on them. A few moments later, Bok walked over Choss and bowed. The Goblin was a beast, even by his own kind's standards. Of equal height to a short Orc, the brute still had the heavily muscled frame of the rest of his brethren, and even less brains. He would stand guard next to the shaman, and keep any of the enemy from disturbing the magic user while he worked. Though they would never admit it, some of the younger Orcs were uncomfortable around the huge Goblin. Bok was big and strong enough to be a danger to even a skilled warrior, but Choss knew that the Goblin was too dumb to ever disobey his masters.
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The screams and smell of burning flesh was so intoxicating it was nearly driving Choss to distraction, but they had encountered a bit more resistance than they expected near the enemy headquarters, and so he forced himself to focus. The first hour had gone just as they had expected, and he had his men take their time as they drove deeper into the heart of Yost. The progress had been relatively steady with only a few pockets of soldiers slowing them at times. Then they had reached the wider streets that ran closer to the center of the city, and things had finally become a bit more challenging.
By the time his force reached the soldier's barracks, he had lost nearly three dozen Goblins and two Orcs. The commander of the enemy forces appeared to be competent, but Choss knew it was only a matter of time. It had not taken him too long to realize that the city was emptier than it should be. It was a disappointment, but there were still plenty of soldiers for his men to kill. There were also a good many non-fighters still in Yost, and Choss was enjoying using that fact to his advantage. It became clear that the blue-garbed men were putting more effort into protecting the helpless screamers than they were at fighting back the invaders.
Whether he was following orders, or had made the decision on his own, Choss did not know. What mattered was that it was a mistake, a costly one, and his men were making the Humans pay. An instinctive block saved Choss from losing part of an ear, and he continued the movement with his war axe. As the Human's arms stretched overhead, Choss' scimitar sliced cleanly into the bared throat. He felt the warm blood splash across his arm, but had already turned away and moved on to the next enemy. This one was not armed, and so he wasted only a second to bury his axe into the back of the female's head. A snap of his wrist freed the weapon, and he let out a short laugh as the body fell across the soldier that was trying to protect her just a moment before.
Choss paused to take in the scene in front of him, and study the battleground. Seval and Tarill were each directing fifty Goblins who were guarding the exits of the enemy's compound, keeping them hemmed in while Lethis lobbed his magic at the buildings inside the fenced in area. The short wall surrounding the barracks and what Choss assumed were offices, appeared more to just separate the area from the rest of the city than provide any defense. Choss turned away to survey more of the area, since this task seemed to be well in hand.
Further into the city, in the direction of the docks, Choss could see more soldiers moving about, but again they were more interested in saving Humans than defeating Choss' warriors. He could see many of them crossing streets and and moving into the darker shadows of the alleyways. Every now and then they would lead people out of a building and direct them away from his force. Since the slaughter had put him in a good mood, Choss had been content to let them scurry about, but right then he decided that they had long enough.
"Seval! Leave that to Tarill. We have given this offal long enough. Let us drive them into the lake... but try to save at least a few for slaves."
Choss had sheathed his sword for just long enough to wipe some of the blood from his face, but drew the scimitar as soon as he finished. He pointed the blade in the direction he intended to go, and began to stride toward the enemy. Seval's maniacal grin was all the answer he needed to know the bloodthirsty Orc would be right behind him, gathering more fighters. He saw many of the Humans scatter as his warriors marched toward them, and even as Choss began to jog after them, many war cries came from his men. That was the only signal the rest of them needed, and by the time Choss reached the end of the street, many of his men were charging by him, eager to kill.
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Choss let out a roar as he held the severed head aloft, and then threw it at the next Human foolish enough to charge him. All around him the dying moaned, buildings burned, and his men roared their own satisfaction. It was glorious, and even though the city had not provided the challenge he knew they would see in the days ahead, the Humans of Yost had surprised him. They had put up a better fight than was expected. A slight nagging in the back of his mind whispered that he lost more warriors than he should have, but he would not let it gain any purchase. This was a victory, and he would savor it. This city was well and truly subjugated.
There had been many that escaped, but that was to be expected. There were always some lucky ones that could be seen crawling away like insects, but those were not the majority. Most of the soldiers had been killed, and he had over fifty new slaves to bring back to the main horde. The few that had scurried off into the night would only be enjoying their freedom for a short time. Once they had conquered this kingdom, there would be thousands of Orcs with nothing better to do than hunt them down and punish them.
Choss took in a deep breath and once more wiped the gore from his face then took another look around. To his left an inn burned. They had set the building alight after checking for supplies, but it had been cleaned out. The flames were already coming out of the second floor windows, and the sign hanging from a hinged bracket on the front wall was swinging back and forth as more flames from the bottom floor licked at it. Choss grinned as he saw the painted Human figure on the sign peel, crack and blacken. The figure, wearing a soldier's tabard, had a long blond beard and was drinking from a mug as he stretched his legs out in front of a hearth. Choss let out a bark of laughter as the real fire from the building consumed the happy soldier's fake fire.
To Be Continued...
About the Author
James R. Barnes
I do not have any formal education in the realm of literature, I just enjoy it. I finally decided to go for it one day, and the result was a ninety thousand plus word story that I thoroughly enjoyed writing, and hope others will someday thoroughly enjoy reading. I feel lik
e there are many more stories to tell, and look forward to sharing them.
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