‘Well, we haven’t all got wings, you know!’ He clasped her shoulder and looked into her eyes. ‘You ready to go find this war band, then?’
She looked back, unflinching. 'Aye, but how?’
‘If it’s a full war band, their tracks shouldn’t be too hard to follow, we know they came through Knight’s Perch, so we’ll have to head there.’
‘But that was days ago, Saethryth, they could be anywhere by now, doing gods knows what.’
‘What do you suggest?
Tierra seemed surprised that he was asking her opinion.
‘Hey, I need your help in this, I don’t know everything, and you have a different skill set to me. This ain’t the army anymore. So, ideas?’
‘How about I just take flight and keep an eye out as we move. I should be able to find something from up there quicker.’
‘Alright.’
With an unspoken word Tierra’s wings began to form from her back, and within a minute she was in the air and climbing higher, in ever increasing circles.
Saethryth was sure he could hear her whooping and laughing as she flew. Must be exhilarating he thought, to fly as a bird, free from the constraints of the earth, the only flying he did was from rooftop to rooftop, but as he had said to her, his skill set was very different.
Sighing, he started to walk along the road towards Knight’s Perch, above him Tierra flew and hollered and laughed.
34: The Road Less Travelled
Squad Sergeant Quinn was grumbling under his breath again, which was all right with Kepler. His weapons instructor had always taught him, that if the men were quiet, then they were up to no good. Probably grumbling about coming off the main Fallows to Knight’s Perch road, well he’d just have to suck on it.
The men needed to get fit, and they weren’t going to get fit marching up a straight, cobbled road.
Kepler had decided to go across the country and pick up the Ashen Falls to Knight’s Perch road instead. 'Give the men plenty of exercise and that way they can’t get into trouble because they’ll be too tired.' His father had always said.
Kepler turned to look at the three squads of men strung out behind him. At first glance they didn’t look much ‘a ragtag collection of humans, elves and half-elves all come to see war in all its glory. Not that there was a war hadn’t been one for five thousand years, but it didn’t stop young people dreaming.
Most had never fought before, with a few regulars in amongst them to keep them in check and keep them away from him, but even the regulars had never had any real battle experiences, just the odd small group of orcs would appear from time to time. The recruits were little more than street vermin he thought to himself.
Kepler was the son of a Count, he had had the best education money could buy; he had friends who were Dukes, Barons, hell he had fucked Countesses and Duchesses. He had danced with Empresses and Queens, now here he was leading three squads of replacements to the Borderland Keep at Knight’s Perch.
People he wouldn’t piss on if they were on fire and that included the good Squad Sergeant. And who thought of naming a Keep Knight’s Perch, a bloody stupid name he thought, but then weren’t they all, if he remembered his geography aright. Whatever they were going there for this was hopefully going to be his chance to make a name for himself, a chance for glory and fame. Something that would make his parents proud. Something that would get the genteel, swooning ladies into his bed.
Oh yes, definitely that.
His father had spoken of his soldering years with great fondness, telling all as if it were a great lark. So far, Kepler, had no complaints having been garrisoned in the town of Fallow. Plenty of food, drink and company. His father had bought him his Captaincy, which he found was basically letting Quinn get on with it.
Then he had been told to grab the latest recruits and lead them to Knight’s Perch, and it wasn’t Quinn getting on with it, it was Kepler.
The small column was cresting a rise, Kepler looked around and then further down the decline.
It took him a second to take in the bodies lying everywhere. Once bloody and broken they were now little more than skeletons, a small pile of them lay around a tattered trio of pennants. From this distance, he couldn’t tell whose they were but he could guess.
Turning back to Quinn he spoke, 'Sergeant Quinn, better split the squads into three abreast, if you please.'
He turned back to his front as Quinn started yelling out orders.
35: Fresh Troops
Melress stood up at the sound of approaching troops. He turned in their direction and saw a Captain advancing down the ridge with three squads of men following.
He bent back down to the body he had been examining. This had been another captain by the look of what was left of his uniform. It looked like he had died to defend the standards with the last seven of his men.
He knew it had once been a man because of the bone structure, but he also knew there would be one or two women among the dead. Even women craved the glory of battle, not many but some and they had as much right to defend their homelands as anyone else.
Melress thought of Ashalone. He had seen her spar with new recruits many a time back at Ashen Falls; she was good with a blade, better than many of the men under her command. She had also had finesse, where a man was more brutal, this gave her an edge of speed when she needed it.
He had arrived half an hour ago, came across the bodies as he was thinking of stopping for the day, he hadn’t eaten since leaving Ellowe and Lucy at the farmstead. Getting off his horse, he had sent Caw into the air to keep an eye out for orcs and had begun to count the bodies. He had counted seventy corpses, a reinforced squad. No enemy bodies, and that worried him. The footsteps were close now. A voice called out behind.
'Sergeant. Arrest that man for desertion and looting!'
Melress put on a smile and turned.
The Sergeant, who had been advancing with two men, seemed to pale and stopped in his tracks. His men stopped with him.
The Captain shouted, 'Sergeant, I said arrest him. Do it now that’s an order!
'But Sir....'
'Just do it, man.'
Melress addressed the Captain, ‘I think your Sergeant is a bit worried, Captain.’
‘How dare you address a superior officer, soldier! Quinn have that man flogged for insubordination. Ten Lashes.’
Melress turned to Quinn, ‘Sergeant, I admire your fortitude and skill at getting that arsehole this far without getting him killed. Form your squads for burial detail.’
Melress then advanced on Kepler, ‘From now on Captain you can address me as Sir, or Battle Captain. Is that understood?’
Kepler’s face had been going redder and redder at the sheer audacity of this man before him. Then he paled like a ghost at the mere sound of the words Battle Captain, and then he noticed the ribbons on the uniform. He looked at the face of the man in front of him.
Is this the best the Battle Mages could field these days, he was a boy, looked about sixteen, and a Captain?
Kepler didn’t know what was going on, for all he knew this was a deserter dressed up in a Battle Mages uniform to avoid questions. But if he wasn’t this boy had more power than all his men put together. He decided prudence was the best cause of action.
‘Yes, Sir.’ He mumbled
Seems like he wasn’t in charge anymore.
36: The Ambush
Melress moved the new recruits away from the scene of the battle. The Captain - Kepler-had become sullen and resentful at having had his command taken over. But both he and Melress had their orders from above, and even if he couldn’t tell Kepler everything about what his orders were, Melress wanted a bit of back up once he got to Knight’s Perch.
So, after putting some distance between themselves and the battleground, Melress gave the order to make camp for the night and went in search of the Captain.
Melress found him sitting on a rotting log, gazing at not much in particular. Kepler started to get up. ‘At ease,
Captain.’
Melress stood in front of Kepler and carried on, ‘Sorry if I came across a bit lordly back there Captain. You can call me Melress if you like.’
Silence.
Melress was exasperated; here he was trying to make amends only to be met with this surliness. He tried a different tack.
‘Do you know how that reinforced company died Captain?’
Silence
‘A Band of orcs has crossed into the borderlands. This band has killed several of our relief columns, no prisoners, every man and woman wiped out.’
‘How?’ Came a quiet voice
‘Ah well, that’s the question, isn’t it? Someone is letting them in.’
A light seemed to switch on in Kepler’s eyes.
‘Are you saying what I think you are?’
‘Well, I can’t spell it out for you Captain, if that’s what you want.’
‘And you want me to help catch them?’
‘No Captain, I want you to watch my back, you and your men will be the only ones I can truly trust while we are at Knight’s Perch. I need you as an ally if you won’t be a friend.’
‘Yes, Sir’
Melress walked back to the camp. He hoped it was a start. Bad enough having enemies in front of you without having them behind you as well.
Kepler sat on the log thinking about what the battle mage had said. A traitor at the Borderlands sounded preposterous. No one would help orcs into the South; they were well known for their wanton destruction. Raping and pillaging an area until there was nothing left. They were like a swarm of locusts, only worse. They should have been wiped out five thousand years ago, but the books all said that peace had been won that day.
Ah, but this was a chance, if HE unmasked the traitor and something was to happen to the battle mage, he’d be knee deep in women for the rest of his life.
Suddenly he noticed movement in the grass below. A beast foraging for roots or grubs no doubt. His eyes narrowed, was that a bow sticking up. Then he noticed several pairs of yellow eyes. He rolled backwards over the log.
'Ambush!’ He yelled seconds before a score of arrows were shot into the air.
As soon as Kepler had shouted, Melress instinctively raised a shield of energy, which deflected the arrows away from the resting troops, who were slowly beginning to rise.
The Squad Sergeant was bellowing orders, as the second wave of arrows came arcing over but luckily Melress was maintaining his shield. Unfortunately, while he maintained the shield he couldn’t counter attack, at least not with magic.
He looked down the slope and could see Kepler behind the log, with his sword drawn and racing up the slope, were two score of orcs. Then from behind him, he started to hear the clang of shields and swords and screams as soldiers started to fight and die.
Melress shouted at Kepler, ‘Captain, get up here with your men, now if you please.’
He tried to keep his voice steady, and he hoped it was, but all he could hear was the beating of his heart.
Kepler looked over the top of the log, and saw the advancing orcs, a motley crew, armed with swords and pole arms; they wore leather and were howling as they ran.
There was no denying what the battle mage had said now; the truth was running towards him. Kepler turned and ran towards Melress, he hoped the archers didn’t shoot him in the back, but he jinked and dodged as he ran, praying as he did.
As Kepler ran towards him and the orcs got closer, Melress stepped to the side, and dropped his magic shield, pointing at the orcs, a small line of fire came from his pointing finger, and as it moved towards the orcs, the fire spread out to engulf every single one of them. Armour melted to their flesh, swords melted and eyes popped in their sockets. Then they were all down, one or two were unlucky and were rolling around screaming in agony.
Kepler ran past Melress, and looking at the young half-elf noticed how new lines had appeared his face, making him look older.
‘Run Kepler, your soldiers are fighting, and need your leadership, I’ll take care of the archers.'
Kepler ran.
37: The Living and the Dead
Kepler ran up to the back of the three squads. They had bunched together and had created a long shield wall, which was bent in at the sides to prevent flanking. The second row of soldiers were pulling back anyone who became injured and stepping into the gaps. In the middle of the mass stood the three standards of the squads. Good discipline was showing, but Kepler could smell the fear even over the smell of shit and vomit. He started to barge his way through the back ranks to the front, ‘Make way, make way damn you.’
Faces looked at him, then moved away as he forced himself through, and then he was at the front. A dozen bodies lay sprawled in front, arms and legs missing, one body was decapitated, and the head lay several feet away staring back at him accusingly.
Between the bodies, a sea of orcs stood, hacking and slashing, using their swords two-handed, in the hopes of weakening a shield enough to smash it. Here and there a woodsman’s axe swung down. Kepler realised there wasn’t much he could do, Quinn had the men organised, and it was just a question of hacking and staying behind shields. And praying, there was always praying.
Melress turned his attention to the score of orcish archers; they were intent on letting fly another flight of arrows and didn’t see the young half-elf approach at first. Melress drew his long sword as he approached; the steel blade seemed to gleam from within. The shine caught the attention of the nearest orc and he hurriedly spun and fired his arrow at the approaching enemy. Luckily for Melress the shot had been too hasty and the arrow flew an inch past his helmed head.
Then he was amongst the orcs, his first thrust went straight through the heart of the orc that had just fired at him. The orc fell back with a grunt and blood spumed up from the hole in his chest.
The next orc didn’t even see Melress. The first thing he saw was the long swords tip as it pierced through his neck. The other archers had by then noticed that something was wrong; they started to drop their bows and draw their steel.
Melress managed to take down two more orcs as they were getting their weapons out. Only sixteen to go he thought to himself, as they began to surround the single half-elf. The orcs started talking in their guttural, harsh language.
‘Take ‘im alive, if you can. Make him feel pain. Fuck his ass but good,’ said one of the larger orcs.
‘B... But he killed Nomsh!’ Said a smaller Orc
Melress rolled his head and sighed. ‘What kind of name is Nomsh?’
The big orc looked at Melress, ‘You speak orc? Fuck it, kill 'im.’
The orcs rushed in, and as they got close, Melress pushed a flat palm towards the ground, suddenly he sprang up and over the orcs who then crashed into each other as their quarry had moved. Melress hadn't thought the magic he had put into his arms to strengthen them would work.
As he flew through the air, he used his mage powers to control the wind and allow him to drop back to the ground slowly.
When Melress landed back on the ground, he turned back to the orcs. Raising his index finger, he pointed at them and flames leapt forward once more to engulfed the close group.
None of the orcs could escape the flames as they licked and whirled around them, all that was left was a pile of charred bodies and lumps of metal. The taller grasses were burning, and red embers were being carried by the breeze towards more of the grass.
Melress moved his free hand and waggled his fingers, a grey cloud appeared over the area. Rain started to pour down, and he slumped forward and put his hands on his thighs. Taking deep breaths, he let the rain wash over him as it put the glowing embers out.
Kepler’s arms were getting tired, and his movements were more from the training than any conscious effort on his part. Shield up, sword down, sword slash, sword stab. A monotonous dance of life and death. Hands grabbed him from behind and a voice, ‘Rest a while Cap’n. I’ll take over for a bit’.
Squad Sergeant Quinn bustled past h
im and into the front row.
Kepler swallowed and took deep breaths, as he did so he looked around. The men were holding, but more were down at least another dozen. At least there were no more arrows coming in.
He wondered how Melress was doing, and as he looked behind him, another fireball lit up the countryside. Still alive at least.
He looked to his front, and beyond his men, he could see the orcs. There had to be half a war band coming up that slope. Didn’t the battle mage say there was a full band, then where were the other half?
A ripple seemed to spread from in front of him, his men were suddenly on the verge of breaking, striding forward Kepler saw Quinn his head had been cleaved down the middle, his helm was split in two, a huge battle axe in the gap. It came back out with a sucking noise, bits of skull and brain tissue stuck to the metal. Attached to the other end of the axe was the biggest orc, Kepler had ever seen. Kepler steeled himself, he had to take the orc down, because if he didn’t his men were breaking and if that happened they were all dead.
‘Stand, damn you, stand’ he shouted as he moved forward, ‘Leave this stunted bastard to me!’ he quipped as he moved.
Some of the faces around him opened with laughter, some with surprise, but the lines began to solidify again, but Kepler knew, if he lost, they were running.
The orc dropped low and swung his axe two-handed before Kepler could get within reach. Taken by surprise, he barely managed to jump to avoid the blade as it sliced where his ankles had been. The orc stood back up and brought the axe down in a powerful chop, again Kepler dodged out of the way, this time countering with a swipe of his own. The blade sliced into the orcs arm, causing a shallow cut. The orc growled.
It was the silence that Kepler noticed first, then the intimacy, there weren’t two armies locked in struggle, just himself and the huge orc in front of him. Fighting was like a ballet really, one gracefully tried to dodge the others blade while trying to pirouette into a position to lop an arm or leg off the big bastard in front of you.
The Eighth God Page 10