Then Lorik turned around and faced the crowd, standing behind the first raider, who was now on his knees, bellowing in pain and holding his shoulder.
“Here’s what’s coming to each and every one of you bastards,” Lorik said.
He raised his sword and in one mighty sweeping blow, cut off the raider’s head at the neck. The head flew straight up, the body toppled forward, and as the head fell back down to earth Lorik punted it straight into the crowd. It hit one raider in the face with enough force to pulverize his nose and then flew up and into the mass of Norsik warriors as fear of Lorik’s ferocity turned their hearts to water.
The Norsik had seen enough. They turned as one and ran back toward their camp. Lorik had to stop himself from running after them. He wanted to cut them all down—the battle lust was so strong on him—but he remembered what Hennick had told him. His choices would make the difference between living and dying to protect those he loved.
He turned and trotted after the captives. He caught up to Stone and Vera, running hand in hand, just before they reached the Wilderlands.
“You’re alive,” Stone said with a smile. “That’s nice.”
“Good to see you made it, too, gimpy,” Lorik teased.
“Hey, that’s a war wound you’re poking fun at.”
“Some things never change,” Vera said in exasperation. “What’s the plan now?”
“We go home,” Stone said.
“We can’t go through the forest without supplies,” Vera said. “At least the Norsik fed us.”
“Hey, it was his plan,” Stone said, pointing at Lorik.
“It is my plan and I will feed you all. But don’t think that the Norsik are going to give up that easily. They’ll gather their courage and come after us. And a group this big won’t be easy to hide.”
“They did a pretty good job of it,” Stone said. “We didn’t catch them in the forest.”
“No, but they know it better than we do,” Lorik said. “They’ve spent time there and we haven’t. We can’t count on being able to outwit them here, or scare them off for long.”
“So what do we do?” Vera asked.
“Right now we rest. Make sure everyone is healthy enough to keep moving. I want to see what the Norsik do now.”
Stone stood watch while Lorik found water for the captives. There were so many of them that he had to uncover several springs to provide enough water for all of them. Vera followed him.
“How do you know so much about the Wilderlands suddenly?” she asked. “You said it was a terrifying place, and I can’t say that I disagree.”
“I made some new friends,” Lorik said.
“What does that mean?”
“Have you ever heard of the Drery Dru?” Lorik asked.
“What? You mean druids? Forest elves?”
“Yeah, they’re the ones. They call themselves the Drery Dru.”
“Did one of those raiders hit you in the head... Hard?” she asked.
“No, I’m telling you the truth. I’ll explain it all when there’s more time.”
“You better believe you will,” she said. “Forest elves? Really?”
“Really,” Lorik said, smiling sincerely.
“Here they come!” Stone shouted.
Lorik hurried back to the edge of the forest. What he saw surprised him. The Norsik warriors were returning, only this time they were in small groups and they were spread out.
“They’ll come into the forest at different places,” Stone said. “You may be unstoppable, but you can’t be everywhere at once.”
“That’s true,” Lorik said. He wasn’t sure what his next move should be. In the open, he could move from group to group and cut them down, but in the forest he wasn’t even sure he would see all the separate groups. And if the Norsik couldn’t recapture their prisoners, they probably wouldn’t be opposed to killing them.
“I’m going out there again,” Lorik said. “I’ll attack the group on the far left. I need you to get on your horse and attack the group on the far right. Push them back toward the center.”
“And don’t get killed,” Vera said. “Whatever you do, don’t die. Either of you.”
“You heard the lady,” Lorik said.
“You be careful, Lorik,” Stone said.
“I will. Can you ride?”
“I can do more than that,” Stone said.
It took him a moment to get on the horse; his leg was hurting but he tried not to let it show. Then he rode out. Lorik smiled, kissed Vera on the cheek, and started running.
Stone let the horse pick its own way across the rocky ground while he unpacked Lorik’s bow and arrows. The Norsik raiders were still far enough away that they were out of bow range, but soon he could start peppering them with arrows. He checked his sword and got as comfortable as possible on the saddle.
“All right, girl,” he said, patting the horse’s neck. “This will be just like tending crops. You run straight and I’ll mow down the weeds.”
The horse neighed as if it understood and Stone started out of the tree line. He rode for nearly five minutes before he drew his first arrow. He had no real experience aiming so he just raised the bow and let the arrow fly in the general direction of the Norsik raiders. The first arrow fell woefully short, so he nocked another arrow and aimed higher. The second arrow fell close to the group Stone was aiming for. The raiders shuffled over, closer to the group on their right, and slowed their pace.
“All right, not bad,” Stone said out loud.
He nocked arrow after arrow, shooting and shooting until he had only one arrow left. Only two arrows had hit the raiders, and neither were kill shots, but he had slowed the progress of the raiders on his side of the line. He couldn’t see what Lorik was doing, but he could see dust rising in the air on the far side of the line of raiders.
Stone kicked the horse into a gallop, ignoring the pain in his knee as he used his legs to grip the animal. He raised his bow when he was close to the raiders. They had bunched together, waiting for his charge, their short swords held out in hopes of fending off the horse and rider. Stone shot his arrow, which punched through the shoulder of one raider and into the neck of another. Then Stone dropped the bow and drew his sword. It was as long as his arm, and as he veered close to the raiders he swung the weapon in a low, level slash. His blade clashed against one sword, then sliced through three arms. The wounds weren’t grievous, and probably wouldn’t prove life-threatening, but three more raiders were out of the fight.
Stone circled slowly, staying far enough away from the raiders to be out of danger while keeping his horse moving at speed. He came in for another pass, and this time the raiders fell back rather than face him. The next group in the line did the same. They didn’t retreat, but they refused to engage with Stone. He grimaced, knowing his horse wouldn’t be able to keep up this pace much longer. So he turned the horse to face the raiders and let it stop. He was a hundred paces from their line, and four groups of raiders stood waiting for his next attack. It didn’t come. Stone just sat there, watching and waiting, knowing that Lorik was coming and hoping the raiders didn’t call his bluff.
Lorik sprinted through the trees. He felt stronger than ever before, but among the trees of the Wilderlands, he felt truly invincible. He circled out onto the open field when he had gone as far as the last group of raiders. Then he ran out over the rocky ground, locking his swords together again. The raiders saw him coming; some stood their ground, others fell back. Lorik didn’t stop. He ran headlong into the group. He hit the first raider with his shoulder, slamming into the man so fast the raider didn’t have a chance to attack before he was knocked into the men behind him. The sudden space gave Lorik the room he needed to attack. He quickly thrust his sword up into the face of a raider to his right. The tip cut skin and smashed bone. Lorik then struck out to his right, plunging the opposite sword tip into the abdomen of another raider. The curved tip sliced into the man’s stomach, hooked on his entrails, and pulled them out.<
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The sight of so much carnage so fast sent almost all the remaining warriors in the first group retreating. Lorik spun around, twirling his sword and bending low to hamstring one raider and disembowel another. Lorik didn’t stick around to inspect his handiwork. He sprinted toward the next group of Norsik, who had been watching his attack with growing fear. Lorik angled in front of them and caught only one warrior before the others drew back. His sword point caught that man in the groin, but the warrior leaned forward over Lorik’s sword, extending his arm and hacking at Lorik’s face. Lorik swayed backward, but the tip of the dying warrior’s blade nicked Lorik’s chin.
Blood dripped down, but it didn’t slow Lorik. With a shove of his sword he knocked the man aside and jumped forward. Three men struck out at Lorik, all aiming high. Lorik dropped to the ground and slashed his sword across their knees and thighs. They fell back, screaming and dragging themselves away from the confrontation.
Lorik rolled to his feet and dashed toward the next group, but the Norsik there had lost all interest in fighting Lorik. They retreated and left the fourth group unprepared for Lorik’s attack. He smashed into them, separating his swords and hacking downward with one and then the other as he took each step. He rained strong overhead blows with the swords in quick succession. The blades hacked down into shoulders or upturned arms, as the small, round shields the Norsik carried were no match for the combination of Lorik’s razor-sharp swords and his overwhelming strength. The group scattered in panic and Lorik took stock of his situation. There were three more groups nearing the tree line, and Lorik saw Stone sitting on his horse facing several groups that had stopped moving.
Lorik decided to try a new tactic. He had planned to try and stay between the raiders and the Wilderlands, but now he thought he might mow through them more quickly by attacking them from behind. He ran forward, toward the rear of the leading groups. The first group never saw him coming. He attacked without mercy, targeting the hamstrings of the raiders who were trotting forward. The fighters at the head of the group heard the men behind them bellowing in pain, but just as they turned to see what had happened, Lorik smashed into them. He tucked the long-handled sword under his left arm and used it like a lance, while his right arm and sword were a whirlwind of mayhem.
Limbs were severed and warriors impaled, then Lorik was moving on to the next group. He hadn’t wounded every warrior in the last group, but he had done enough damage to force the group to pull back. He attacked the next group in the same way, only this time they stopped and turned to face him. He batted away one sword and then lashed out. His sword cleaved into the neck of one raider, then his boot shattered the knee of another. Lorik then spun in a tight circle, his sword blades reaching out farther than the short weapons of his foes. He cut several men, but they stayed in the fight, and Lorik realized that he would have to do more than scare this group into retreating.
He drew in the sword that was in his left hand. When the warriors on that side of him lunged at the apparent opening in his defenses, he spun back, causing the warriors on his right to rush forward. It seemed like Lorik was backpedaling, but his opponents were now off-balance and sandwiched together. He attacked with such ferocity that the raiders began tripping all over each other. Lorik hacked and cut, swinging his swords so fast the raiders felt like they were fighting against several men.
One managed to fall forward and strike out at Lorik’s thigh. Lorik dodged back, just as he kicked the raider in the face. It might have given the other raiders an opening to attack, but their companion on the ground blocked their path. Lorik then stepped on the fallen warrior’s back and jumped high in the air, spinning and swinging his sword. Only one raider was caught by Lorik’s spinning swords, but the move scared the rest, and they fled the battle.
Lorik shouted in victory and then dashed to the next group.
Chapter 38
Lorik knew he should be tired, but even though he was breathing heavily, he felt invigorated instead of tired. He barreled into the next group, cutting down two of the raiders from behind before the rest turned to face him. They were shouting to each other, trying to coordinate their attack, but Lorik was too fast, too ferocious.
He had hooked his swords together again and slid from one side to the other, jabbing one warrior in the face, then slashing another’s thigh on the opposite side. He flipped his sword from low to high, catching another warrior in the throat, before leaping up and spinning a full circle in the air and landing with a vicious swipe that opened the chest of a raider. The Norsik warriors, now hesitant to engage Lorik, edged away.
“Come on, then!” he taunted. “Fight me!”
The Norsik broke and ran. The line of small groups was broken and the other groups retreated as well, all the way down to where Stone sat on his horse. Stone watched the Norsik turn and trot back toward their camp, then turned his horse and rode to Lorik, who stood wiping the blood and gore off his swords. There were wounded and dead men lying across the dusty field, many moaning or crying out in agony as they slowly succumbed to their wounds.
“I guess their taste for fighting wasn’t as great as they thought,” Stone said.
“They don’t like a fair fight,” Lorik agreed.
“I wouldn’t say facing you is a fair fight,” Stone added. “You’re like a hero from some story. What’s next, dragons?”
“Maybe,” Lorik said. “They say there are dragons in the north.”
“And you say there are forest elves in the Wilderlands.”
“There are!” Lorik insisted. “What is so hard to believe about that?”
“Hey, don’t get so upset, I wasn’t saying you were wrong. I’m just saying I’ve never seen one.”
“And you won’t, with that attitude,” Lorik teased.
They hurried back into the forest. Vera had been watching the battle with bated breath, not sure which of the men to keep her eye on. Now that she saw both of them coming safely back into the forest, she felt tremendous relief.
She gathered the healthiest of the women together and introduced Stone and Lorik. They were polite to Stone, but they gazed at Lorik with undisguised desire. Vera was appalled at first, because she still saw Lorik as her old friend. Of course they had shared a bed rather frequently over the years, but they were friends, first and foremost. Her heart belonged solely to her Liam now. Still, looking closely at Lorik, she could understand their desire. His body was glistening with sweat which made his exposed skin shimmer even in the dim lighting of the forest. His chest was broad, his shoulders and arms bigger than any man’s she could remember.
She had seen other men with large muscles, some so big they seemed almost grotesque. But Lorik’s body, as large as it suddenly was, seemed to be the perfect ideal of the male physique. She smiled, happy for her friend, not because the other women seemed drawn to him, but because he seemed so perfectly suited for the role he found himself in. He had traveled through the Wilderlands and rescued a large group of captives from the Norsik. She thought he would be pleased with that accomplishment, and perhaps even ready to settle into a quieter life.
“We should get moving,” Lorik said. “We have a long way to go.”
“But we still don’t have rations,” Vera said. “What will we eat? Where will we find water?”
“I can find what we need,” Lorik said. “For now, we just need to put distance between us and the Norsik.”
“I’d say they’re beaten,” Stone said, climbing down off his horse.
“They’ll come after us,” Lorik said. “They won’t forget it was just the two of us who stole their captives.”
“Well, mainly me,” Stone said in mock seriousness. “I mean, you helped, of course, but I did all the heavy lifting.”
Lorik and Vera laughed as they moved through the crowd of women and children. The women watched Lorik with awe, while the children, though scared and tired, reached out to touch him. He smiled down at them and patted their heads. Then they were moving through the forest. As t
ime passed and they got further from the Norsik camp, the captives seemed to overcome the shock of their ordeal.
Stone walked, insisting that the weaker women and children take turns riding the horse. Lorik carried two of the smallest children on his shoulders, telling them about the wondrous forest elves high in the trees above. Vera listened, holding her own questions about his adventure with the Drery Dru for another time. Instead she whispered to Stone, who was struggling along beside her. His knee, although better, was not quite ready for a full day’s walk.
“Your leg is getting worse, isn’t it?” she asked him.
“It’s fine,” he lied.
“Why do men always feel like they can’t be honest? Do you really think Lorik met forest elves and climbed a giant tree?”
“It’s hard to believe, isn’t it? I mean, I look at him and see the physical changes, and I see the swords, but my mind simply won’t accept that there are elves up in the trees.”
“Mine either,” Vera said. “I don’t know that I could believe it even if I saw them with my own eyes.”
“Still, he is able to do things that shouldn’t be possible. No one his age grows, but he’s easily a head taller than before.”
“And he didn’t even seem tired after fighting all those raiders,” Vera said.
“I know,” Stone agreed. “When we were traveling here from deep in the forest, he would run all day. I mean, he was setting such a relentless pace that we would have to stop and rest the horse. Who can do that?”
“There are stories of the great heroes of the past,” Vera said.
“Yes, exactly, stories, which are naturally given to exaggeration and spectacle. No one ever believed those stories were true.”
“But what if they were?” Vera asked. “We’ve heard tales of dragons and wizards in Yelsia. The Torr are wizards.”
Lorik The Protector (Lorik Trilogy) Page 33