Shadow’s Lure

by Jon Sprunk

  “Ah,” Keegan paused. “Two dead, and another might die before morning. I know you said to avoid that if we could, but—”

  “Some things are unavoidable. Go on.”

  “Okay. There are a few soldiers holed up in a shack in the southeast corner. We couldn’t get inside.”

  “So you started fires to smoke them out,” Caim said.

  Vaner glanced at Keegan. “Someone said they saw a man inside wearing Eviskine colors. A couple of the boys went against orders.”

  “Have you found their commander?”

  Keegan shook his head. “Only a sergeant so far. He’s the one in bad shape. He wouldn’t surrender.”

  Vaner started to add something, but Caim missed it as a stabbing pain sliced through the center of his chest. For a moment, he thought he had been shot by a crossbow again. His vision dimmed. Keegan and Vaner looked at each other. Caim didn’t have the breath to speak. As the agony receded, a harsh tingle ran down the back of his neck. Something bad was coming. Caim glanced northward toward the direction of the disturbance. The sky rumbled overhead, but there was no smell of moisture in the air.

  “Are you—?” Vaner started to ask.

  Caim bit back against the pain. “Get everyone back up the ridge now.”

  “What about the prisoners?” Keegan asked.

  “Leave them!”

  Caim pushed past them and staggered toward the north side of the outpost as fast as he could manage. The walking got easier, but it wasn’t until he was halfway across the compound that he remembered Liana and her women were stationed on the north road. Right in the path of the disturbance. He broke into a run.

  He passed Oak heading back toward the courtyard with a long crate under each arm.

  “Caim! I found a whole house full of—”

  “Find Keegan and get out of here!” he shouted over his shoulder.

  When Caim reached the wall, he leapt without slowing. The palisade was built of sharpened, eight-foot-tall stakes. As his hands closed around the tops of two logs, Caim heaved himself up. What he saw on the other side drove an icy spike into his guts.

  The night had come alive. It lapped at the wooden barrier and flowed around it like an amorphous beast seeking entrance. Glints of metal gleamed in the blackness—warriors with swords and spears racing to surround the walls. Caim drew his knives as he dropped down on the hard ground. The darkness swirled with shadows. They approached him like a pack of tame pets, rubbing against him, whispering songs of death and ruin in his ears. He fought the violent urges rising inside him as he moved out into the gloom.

  Sounds came at him from every direction. Caim was torn between caution and the need to find his troops before it was too late. He almost tripped over the body of a grizzled soldier, his leather breastplate dotted with a dozen deep punctures. Spear wounds. As Caim moved on, a fierce shout was his only warning as a swordsman leapt out of the dark at him. Caim leaned out of the longsword’s path and stabbed the soldier in his side. He twisted his blades free as the soldier slid to the ground and kept moving. Another soldier appeared. Caim glided past a falling battleaxe and smashed the man in the temple with a knife butt. As the soldier shook his head, Caim saw the pale flesh of his enemy’s neck exposed above the breastplate. The longing to attack, to kill, sizzled in his brain. He hamstrung the soldier with two vicious slashes and kicked him to the ground. His pulse thrummed in his ears as he stood over the man, who groaned and clutched his ruined legs. Kill him. They deserve no better.

  A choking grunt turned Caim around. He lifted his knives as a tall, long-limbed man staggered toward him out of the murk. Caim crouched to leap, but checked his attack when he recognized the face. Oak’s hands were folded around the spear point protruding from his stomach. Rage, red-hot and steaming, bubbled up inside Caim. He reached out to help until a soldier in an iron cap came up behind Oak and slid the blade of a dirk under his russet beard.

  Caim yelled as he knocked the knife from the soldier’s hand and slashed him across the face. The man held his face and screamed. Unmoved, Caim punched both knives through the soldier’s boiled leather shirt and spilled his steaming bowels onto the snowy ground. The killer collapsed beside Oak’s body, both of them curled up like sleeping children. Growling—at the soldier, at himself, at the gods perhaps—Caim turned away.

  He found the road and hurried down its hard-packed snow-and-gravel surface. Cries rose to meet him. There was a sinister whoosh, followed by the wet crackle of shattering bones. He sprinted at full speed through the gloom, straight into the path of a galloping brown blur. Caim threw himself to the side and was spun partway around as the warhorse’s broad chest barreled into his legs. Something bright and lethal whistled past his head. As Caim regained his footing, the horseman wheeled his steed around and came back for another pass, a long cavalry sword held over his head. Caim leapt before the horseman could close, darting in low on the soldier’s left side. His suete cut deep into the meat of the soldier’s thigh. Intending to swing around to the other side, Caim ran around behind the animal.

  Then he was airborne.

  The breath rushed out of his lungs as he landed in a shallow ditch beside the road. Pain rippled across his left shoulder and down his ribs from the impact of the warhorse’s hooves. The horseman had turned and was closing again. Caim tried to lift himself up, but there was no time. His arm was stiff; his legs felt like boards of lumber. The soldier leaned over in the saddle, his sword raised to kill. Caim hissed between his teeth.

  The shadows came from every direction, blocking out the horse and rider with their numbers. A high-pitched whinny sliced through the night air amid a thunder of stamping hooves and human screams.

  Caim’s breath returned in shallow gasps as he climbed to his feet. A quick examination of his arm and torso revealed that nothing was broken, but he would sport some nasty bruises. He looked to his fallen enemy. The horse lay on its side. Tiny black holes riddled its sweat-flecked coat. The rider had thrown himself clear, but the shadows found him nonetheless. His armor—a shirt of mail—hung in tatters, riddled with similar holes. His empty eye sockets, leaking white fluid, stared up at nothing.

  While Caim looked over the scene, cool touches enveloped his shoulder and side. He started to brush the flitting shadows away, but let them be as the pain leached away. Sensation returned to his hand. More shadows crawled on the ground, nipping at his feet, eager for blood. This preternatural darkness was unnerving, even for him, but he plowed ahead. Sounds of fighting echoed deeper in the gloom, and then—

  Nothing. The breeze picked up, making eddies in the mist.

  He came across the first body lying against the trunk of an ebonwood tree. Bile rose in the back of his throat as he recognized one of Liana’s women, but he couldn’t put a name to her face. She had died cradling a broken arm. Both her legs were broken, too. He found the second and third bodies facedown in the snow farther up the road. The fourth lay over a rock; blood drenched her chestnut hair from a massive head wound that had caved in half her skull. Caim marched past, fearing what he would find next. His stomach was clenched into a knot of aches. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have let them—

  Lightning flashed behind him, and the darkness lifted a trifle, enough to reveal a line of bodies arrayed across the road. Caim stopped as the thunder crashed in his ears. The women had stood firm, shoulder to shoulder, presenting a strong front to their enemy. Just like he had taught them.

  A solitary figure stood on the road beyond them, tides of darkness swirling around his thick, armored frame.

  The Beast.

  The throbbing in Caim’s chest pounded against his breastbone as the armored giant looked up. A woman slumped at his feet. In one hand the Beast held up her head by a fistful of long blonde hair; in the other, a massive spiked ball hung on the end of a black link chain. Caim’s arms trembled as he looked into Liana’s glassy eyes. He was too late.

  The Beast let go of her hair. Caim was running before Liana’s face landed in
the bloody mire. He charged past the women, their features streaked with blood. A rattle of metal links preceded the approach of whirling death. Caim’s spine quivered as he dived under the ball-and-chain’s long arc. He got in close and attacked with all the savagery and loathing he held inside. The Beast was even more formidable up close, an eidolon of metal and darkness. Caim lunged, and both knives struck the ridged midsection of the black breastplate. Jarring tremors ran through the hilts as their points rebounded without penetrating, numbing his hands. Caim caught a glimpse of a black steel-clad fist rising toward him a fraction of a heartbeat before it crashed against his temple. Lights burst in front of his eyes as he staggered back. The chain nicked the top of his head as it passed and knocked him off balance. He put out a hand to catch his fall. Move! The next pass won’t miss.

  Caim heaved himself sideways and scrambled to his feet. The whirl of the spiked ball hissed behind him. He spun around and hurled his right-hand knife. The charred blade turned end over end and shattered against the Beast’s breastplate in a hail of shrapnel. Caim reached up, and the black sword leapt into his hand. In that moment everything came into perfect clarity, the darkness transformed into a palette of vibrant shades. Pulsating sigils were etched into the Beast’s armor, including a battlemented tower in the center of the breastplate. Tendrils of shadow curled from his helmet’s visor.

  Caim followed the sword’s lead and felt the point bite into the joint between the Beast’s hip faulds and the cuisse protecting the thigh. Dark blood trickled from the gap as he twisted the blade, but his foe paid it no mind, bringing his weapon around in an overhand swing. Caim dropped to one knee. The impact of the spiked ball shook the ground behind him. Pulled by the sword, he lunged, but the Beast turned faster than Caim anticipated and smacked him in the chest with the back of an armored fist. Caim rolled with the punch and managed to keep his feet under him. He braced himself for another attack, but the Beast stepped back with a flock of shadows flitting around him. With another step, he was gone.

  Caim squinted as he rubbed his chest. A hole had opened in the darkness. It collapsed as soon as the Beast passed through, but Caim could see streamers of shadow left behind. He looked back. Liana lay a couple yards from his feet. Beyond her limp body, the compound was engulfed in an inferno. A file of men ran out of the gate, heading for the ridge, while some waited on the road. Caim made up his mind.

  He leapt.

  As he jumped, he pulled at the space in front of him, and a dark hole appeared in the air. He had time for a quick breath before he tumbled through the gateway.

  He fell onto a patch of sharp rocks. As he stumbled over the jagged surfaces, Caim heard a sinister whine and threw himself flat. He dropped his knife as the hard edges of a dozen stones jabbed into him. The spiked ball passed inches from his head.

  The buzzing in the back of his skull returned, more insistent than before. Caim reached for the fallen suete and rolled away a split heartbeat before the rock in front of him shattered in his face. As he found his footing, he got a glimpse of where they stood, on a narrow section of ground surrounded by plunging slopes on every side. A hilltop. Aside from the scree of broken rocks he had just vacated, there were perhaps a dozen square paces of ground here, and the Beast stood at the center, chain whirling over his head. Clever. There’s nowhere for me to run, but what if I’m not trying to get away?

  Caim rushed in before his better sense could intervene. The black sword vibrated so fast in his hand he could hear its plaintive whine. It wanted blood, and so did he.

  The Beast shifted the trajectory of the spiked ball downward, but the reaction was a hair too slow. Caim got inside the arc an instant before the sphere came around. The Beast leaned away from the sword’s black point, but it had been just a feint to get in closer. Caim ripped upward with the suete. Its point punched through the mail under his opponent’s armpit. Caim expected a groan—something—but the giant made no sound as he knocked Caim back with a forearm smash. Caim set his feet and crouched, sword extended in defense, but all he saw was a huge armored back as the Beast passed through another inky gateway.

  With more caution than the last time, Caim made his own portal and stepped through.

  Somehow he got turned upside down and landed hard on his stomach. The ground felt like smooth, solid stone under several inches of frozen snow, but when he pushed up with his hands and legs, his feet slipped out from under him, dragging away streaks of snow to reveal a dark sheet of ice. He rolled away an instant before the spiked orb came down and the ice exploded.

  Shedding slivers of frost as he stood up, Caim called to the shadows. They swarmed around him, flittering but strangely silent. With a flick of his sword, he sent them at the Beast in a cone of darkness. But the Beast waded through the little darknesses, his armor and his hide intact. Caim circled to his right with short, cautious steps. The Beast followed after him, spinning the chain faster with each pass. Caim angled away, hoping to reach dry land and firmer footing, but his foe’s arm shot forward just as he was stepping away. Caim hesitated. Unable to back out of range fast enough, he fell prone.

  He landed hard on his elbow. The ice creaked ominously, and then a steel-shod foot slammed into his chest, propelling him across the ice. The shadows flapped around him, unable to help. Gasping, Caim rolled up onto his knees and used the sword to hold himself upright. The buzzing, the pulling, the combat—they sapped the strength from his limbs. He didn’t know how much longer he could go on, but the approach of the armored giant across the ice spurred him to stand up once again.

  The Beast was unstoppable. Blood leaked from his armor in several places, but still he came on with relentless persistence. Caim shifted to a taller stance as the spiked orb swung nearer. He had to end this soon, before his endurance failed altogether. As the Beast closed the distance between them, Caim rushed forward. At the last moment, he dropped to his knees, and momentum carried him across the ice. Caim slashed with the sword across the back of the Beast’s knees. Links of mail parted under the black steel’s edge. Blood poured down the blade. Caim kicked hard, and the giant toppled back.

  The Beast struck the ice with a resounding crash. He tried to turn over but couldn’t find purchase. There was a crackle, and then the lake’s surface gave way, plunging him into dark waters.

  Caim climbed to his feet. Sweat cooled on his face. It was over. The Beast was gone. But as he turned toward the shore, a terrible grinding roared behind him. He spun and almost lost his balance as a massive black shape rose from the creaking ice. Water dripped from the black chain. Caim ducked, but he couldn’t find enough traction. Freezing cold bit into his skin an instant before the spiked orb struck. Only the protection of the shadows, clinging to his back like a second skin, saved him from a crushed spine. As it was, the blow drove the breath from his lungs and hurled him into the snow. Ice and sky whirled before his eyes. His lips shook as he fought to drag in fresh air. On the edge of his vision, the Beast clawed his way out of the water. Flat, black eyes peered from within the slit in the helmet’s visor. Chain links rattled as the spiked ball came round again. Forcing his arms and legs to move, Caim grasped onto the first concrete thought that came to mind. A shadowy portal opened beside him.

  As the ground shuddered, he plunged into the emptiness.

  Caim emerged at the bottom of a trench. A foot of snow cushioned his fall. As he tried to sit up, the pulling sensation flared into a crushing pain that threatened to split open his skull.

  Kneeling, he felt rather than heard the portal close behind him. The smells of a forest filtered through his clogged nostrils. His whole body ached—his back, his side, his legs. He just wanted to collapse right here and forget about everything. A faint hiss of sundered air alerted him to the opening of a second portal.

  Caim pulled himself to his feet in time to see the Beast stride into view, faint wisps of shadow rising from his armor. Trees stood around them like silent spectators. This was it. He didn’t have the strength to run anymore. Caim
loosened his shoulders. All right, bastard. Come and get me.

  The spiked sphere smashed into a tree trunk. Caim ducked inside the blow. Once, twice, three times the black sword rebounded from the Beast’s thick armor, each time rushing back eager to draw blood. Caim attacked limbs, joints, even his foe’s neck, hoping to penetrate the thin webbing of black mail underlying the gorget, but a near miss from the spiked ball forced him to withdraw. On the next pass the massive sphere came around faster than he anticipated. Caim lost his balance as he dropped into a crouch. Just for an instant, but an armored heel caught him in the chest and flung him backward. He hit something in his flight. It snapped under his weight, and he landed between the broken slats of an old fence. The sword slipped from his grasp. He struggled to right himself, but the Beast’s foot stamped down, crushing him into the snow.

  Caim searched for the sword, but he couldn’t see where it had landed. He tried not to think about the whine of the great chain whirling above him. With his other hand he found the gash in the mail behind the Beast’s knee where the black sword had penetrated. He jammed the suete’s point into the hole as the sphere passed over him, picking up speed. He sawed the knife blade back and forth, and a river of blood poured down to soak his jacket.

  Faster, the ball passed overhead.

  Caim clenched his jaws shut and shoved on the knife’s handle in one last effort. The orb would smash his head like a melon.

  Rotten fuck, I hope you’re crippled for the rest of your miserable life. I hope—

  A ferocious roar shook the night, and the pressure lifted from Caim’s chest as the Beast fell to the ground. Caim rolled free, gasping for air. A great mass of shadow sat on the giant’s chest, holding him down as its midnight claws ripped through plate and mail.

  The muscles in Caim’s arm twitched as he pushed himself up. The shadow beast was bent over the giant’s throat, trying for a stranglehold. Caim tried to stand. His only wish was that the creature would finish off the Beast, but that hope withered away as a great armored hand grasped the shadow creature by its neck and hurled it away.