Paul took the weapon and stood up, moving to get some room, then swinging the hammer. The hammer swished through the air, propelled by his powerful muscles. A smile grew on his face, growing ever wider as he swung the hammer, left to right, right to left, overhead and down. He finally brought the hammer down on the cobblestone road. It hit with a thunderous roar that forced the other immortals to clap hands over their ears, and many of the nearby soldiers to fall off their feet. Pieces of stone flew into the air and the ground shook under their feet.
Paul held the hammer up into the air, roaring at the top of his lungs. "I'll call you Mjolnir."
"And what the hell is that?" asked Izabella, her face still showing the pain of the thunder.
"The hammer of Thor, the god of thunder," said Kurt with a laugh.
"What else does it do?" asked Paul, looking for all the world like a little boy with a new toy.
"I guess you'll have to find out," said Levine, reaching out to touch the hammer, smiling as he ran his fingers over the smooth surface.
"Then that's what I'll do," said the Brit, placing the butt of the hammer gently on the ground and resting his forearm on the head.
I don't think anything that runs into that will remain invincible, thought Kurt.
* * *
The deep howl sounded through the night, sending shivers of fear up the spines of men and women. Most were sheltering in whatever fortresses they could find. Old castles, forts, even caverns blocked with the heaviest materials they could locate in the area. Others sat on boats anchored in the middle of wide rivers. In the Refuge valley most of the people were in the deep caverns or atop the plateau city rising from the plain of the lowlands.
However, some people were still at large; the hunters, who would attempt to take down as many of the lycanthropes as they could. They moved under the light of the three moons, their bright discs looking down. Lunas was the largest and the brighter, while the other two wree made large by being closer to the planet. It was actually a living world, with oceans and continents, and the green of vegetation. Many of the people of the planet didn't understand how things worked as far as astrophysics were concerned. The humans from Earth did, and had educated as many of the Elf and dwarf elite that were interested, which included almost all of the priestly class, and pretty much all of the arcane magic users.
Kurt could hear the large bodies moving toward him through the woods, the confused lycanthropes looking for the prey that had been promised them, and seemed to be missing. The bear standing next to him growled, sounding all the world like an Earthly grizzly. It was one of the good lycanthropes, as most bears were. There were also some boars and tigers out with the immortals. They were just as powerful as the evil shape shifters, and just as quick to anger, but without the lust for innocent blood.
Two large werewolves burst from the brush upon seeing the human ahead of them and charged forward. Lanathredus, a Conyastoya female who transformed into a bear nine times her normal mass, growled and charged one of the wolves, striking it from the side with a great paw, knocking the wolf to the ground and then leaning in to savage it with the teeth of a bear. Most animals would already be dying, but the wolf was healing even as it was taking wounds. It bit into the forepaw of the bear, crunching through bone and eliciting a moan. The bear backed off for a moment, its paw hanging useless for almost a half-minute, then again bearing its weight as it healed. It looked as if the creatures would fight it out through the night, able to injure, but neither able to kill the other. That was Kurt's job, while Lanathredus was only there to guard his flank until he could get to the next one.
The other wolf jumped at Kurt. There was no recognition in the eyes of the beast. As far as it was concerned this was just another human victim, one he would take care of in seconds. Instead he met the blurring Paladin's blade, swung overhead and down from right to left, cutting into the shoulder of the beast. The sword glowed with power, as it was wont to do when dealing with demonic creatures. The skin of the creature was stone hard, and almost any weapon, even a magical one, would have bounced away. The godblade, with the more than human strength of the immortal behind it, sliced through skin, muscle and bone. It passed all the way through the creature and leaving the forequarters writhing on the ground while the rear twitched, and blood flowed from arteries no longer under the pressure of a heart. That organ had been sliced neatly in two.
Wasn't too hard to kill, thought Kurt, then stared as he watched the pieces of the creature try to crawl toward each other. He was sure if they met they would heal back into one monster, and that was something he couldn't allow. He thrust his blade through the head and lifted the forequarters into the air, flinging them into the night. The rear quarters continued trying to crawl toward the missing fore section, weakening by the second.
The other wolf and the bear were still fighting. It looked like an even match, or it would be if the other wolves he heard in the night didn't get here first. Kurt walked up and took careful aim at the neck of the wolf, waited a moment to get a clear swing, and then took the head off of the beast The head lay on the ground, its eyes looking up and jaws still snapping. The bear grabbed the forepaw of the wolf and savaged it, while Kurt flung the head into the night.
"We've got more coming," Kurt told his partner.
The bear nodded. She couldn't speak, but she still understood human language. She had several deep wounds that were healing as Kurt watched. The bear walked toward the oncoming wolves. Kurt wanted to call her back, but saw the wisdom of her decision. Both would attack her, and he would be able to kill them both at his leisure. At least that was the plan, until four of the great wolves burst from the brush.
* * *
Jackie stood in the clearing with Ice and Fire in her hands, glowing blue and red in the night. Beside her two large tigers crouched and growled low in their throats. One was an elf male, the other a Red human female. Both massed well over what a full-grown Siberian tiger would on Earth. Both were terrifying, even to her, though she knew they were on her side. Still, they were animals with human intelligence this night, but lacking the human control of their emotions.
"Get ready," said Jackie, crouching, getting prepared for the enemies to come into the clearing. The priests had thought they would go after the scent of intelligent creatures. So all of the immortals were standing out in the open, along with their lycanthrope allies. There were also some of the more powerful priests and their paladin allies off on their own in groups of a half dozen. Some of the groups had mages as well, including several of the Earth borne archmages. They hoped it was enough. The fear was that the werebeasts would attack the entrances of fortified areas with every bit of strength they possessed. If they got in among a group of people without the power to fight back against them, it would be a blood bath.
The howling went on, getting closer and closer. The tigers grew more restless, and Jackie tightened the grip on her twin katanas. They were not godblades, but were the most powerful things this side of them. She hoped with her strength and agility she would be able to kill these things, but there were no guarantees. No guarantees she would kill these things, no guarantees she would survive the night.
I wish Kurt was here, she thought. She had never thought she would fall in love with someone who wasn't an American, but it had happened without her consent. Not only did she love him, and, she thought, he her, but they also fought well together, like warriors who had been with each other for life, and not a mere three years. But Kurt had his own fight this night, as did she.
A huffing came from the woods, and then two wolves erupted from the brush, heading straight for her, tongues lolling from their mouths. The two tigers took off, one to each wolf. The tiger on the right swung a paw into the head of its opponent, knocking it to the ground, where it rolled with its head swinging on a broken neck. Two more wolves came out of the brush and hit the tiger, snapping at it, one fastening on the rear of the tiger and the other going for a forepaw. Another pair attacked the tiger on
the left, while the previously dead wolf got back to its feet and reinforced its fellows.
Jackie shook herself out of her shock. She needed to help her allies. If they died, then the six wolves would all come after her, and she didn't think she could handle the half dozen by herself.
She was about to let loose with a battle cry, but stopped herself with the thought that it would be better to hit them before they realized she was on the attack. With that in mind she ran at one of the wolves, savaging the hindquarters of the ally on the right, and thrust both blades into its body. Fire raised smoke from the body as the fur caught afire and boiling blood wept from the wound. Ice went into a leg, and immediately froze flesh, blood and bone. She jerked both blades free, shattering the leg into fragments of ice while the torso burst into a furnace-hot fire. She kicked the wolf away before it could catch her ally on fire, then sliced its head from its body with Ice, jabbing fire into an eye and starting a blaze going on that decapitated body part.
One of the wolves let go of the tiger, turning toward the human, with rage and blood lust in its eyes. It crouched down, ready to spring, but she ran in first in a blur of speed that caught it off guard, both blades thrusting into the open mouth and through the roof. The combination of volcanic heat and interstellar cold exploded the head, dropping the wolf to the ground. From there it was only a couple of strikes to take out the last wolf. The tiger, now free, ran over and jumped on one of the wolves attacking its partner, bearing it away and to the ground.
Jackie, now practiced in the technique, thrust her two blades into the back of one of the wolves still attacking the tiger. Again, the opposite forces of the blades ripped apart the spine and thorax of the beast, dropping it. Jackie took off the head, and then did the same as before, thrusting both blades into the skull and blasting the skull apart.
Now each tiger had only one opponent, and their greater mass and strength, coupled with their superior speed and agility, made short work of the other beasts. Jackie backed off, getting her breath, her ears searching the night for the next enemies. It didn't take long to find them, and she waved the two cats forward and followed them into the night.
* * *
Paul stood in another clearing, twenty kilometers from the other immortals, with his three allies, a trio of massive boars, or technically sows. They had been three beautiful Conyatoya sisters before the rising of the moon. All wore glowing collars that would identify them in the battle, in case they ran into some others of their kind. Wereboars could be good or evil, and they looked the same either way, which made them some of the most terrifying of all the shapeshifters. You couldn’t just assume.
Grunting came from the woods, and Paul was damn happy that someone had thought ahead. Otherwise, he would be in a rumble of boars and not know which ones to strike. Six of the massive evil beasts came out of the brush, two heading toward each of his allies. They knew. They probably had a different odor, good and evil beast, though the immortal thought they all smelled foul.
The huge Brit ran over to the fight on the left and brought his hammer down on the hindquarters of the animal. Bone and muscles shattered, then exploded outward under the kinetic power of the hammer, and the squealing beast’s forward section dropped to the ground, writhing in pain. The other boar continued to trade rips of tusks with the sow, until its head exploded under the not so gentle ministrations of the hammer. Paul did the same with another pair of boars, then turned as he heard howls coming toward him. The sisters all ganged up on the two remaining evil shapeshifters, savaging them with their tusks. If allowed to go on, the fight would last the night.
Paul felt something in the back of his mind, something alien. The hammer, he thought, and received what he could only think of as approval. He could tell that the hammer had not been wielded for a long time, thousands of years, and would not let just anyone have access to its powers. It approved of the might of its current wielder.
“Do your stuff,” said Paul as he pointed it at the pair of giant wolves that ran out of the forest.
The night lit with the crackle of electricity, and a massive bolt of power linked hammer with wolves. They shook in place for a moment, hair standing on end, smoke coming out of eyes, ears and mouth. Then, without warning, they exploded as the heat within their bodies reached critical levels.
Paul whooped a war cry while holding the hammer high in the air. Mjolnir, indeed, he thought. This was a weapon he was going to keep. Grunting brought him back to the here and now, and he walked over to finish the opponents of the sisters.
* * *
A small pack of werewolves had found the entrance to the burrow the neo-wolves were laired in, containing a dozen nursing females and over seventy pups, from newborns to those almost ready to start their training. The werewolves hated natural wolves, and killed them whenever they could. As the first one poked a head into the lair it grinned in devilish delight. The females might attack, they might even cause it wounds. Its would heal, theirs would not.
Then it whimpered as it felt something invade its mind, freezing its body in place. A collective of over thirty minds, the females and the oldest pups, were pushing against it, almost a physical force. The mind of the shapeshifter was filled with images of its fate after death, burning in the hells of the death god. It screeched out a scream and backed away, pushing the others of its pack out of the way, and then running panicked into the night. Another wolf made its way forward, and was soon in the retreat. On it went, until the entire pack was running through the night, its only thought to get away from the demons that had been planted in their minds. There was no escaping the creatures that would follow them through the rest of their lives.
* * *
“How did we make out?” asked Taylor of the high priest of Arathonia.
“Hundreds of the evil ones destroyed,” said the priest with a smile. “I wouldn’t have believed it possible.” The expression of the Ellala sobered. “We lost almost a hundred people, ours and yours. Some were priests and paladins, and will be difficult to replace.”
Taylor frowned. Of course, they knew there were going to be losses this night. Still, it had been thought they would be in the thousands, so they had dodged the bullet. “How many wounded?”
“We think less than a hundred,” said the priest. “We are searching for others.”
That was the problem with being wounded by a werebeast. It started a slow process of changing the personality, even the hominid one, from good to evil. Some would hide wounds because they were afraid of what the good priests would do to them.
“And you think you can cure them of the curse?”
“It is possible. We might be able to relieve half of them from the curse. The others?” The priest gave a very human shrug, something he had learned from the newcomers.
Taylor shook his head. The ones they couldn’t cure had two options, neither their choice. They could be imprisoned for the rest of their lives, with the risk that they might break out and threaten others. Or they could be put down, no longer a menace to anyone. As tough a decision as it was, they had to go with the second option, a permanent solution to the problem.
“And this won’t happen again for what, a couple of years?”
“About that, general. I would have to consult our calendar to give you the exact date.”
Taylor sat there digesting the information. For all its wonders, this world certainly had its share of terrors. Of course, Earth had its own, starting with the nuclear weapons that had sent them here, and killed so many there.
Chapter Fifteen
"We have sails ahead, Commodore," came the call of the captain over the speaking tube that reached into the flag officer's quarters.
"I'll be right up," said Hauser, pulling himself from his bunk and reaching for his boots. He had been up late the night before, planning with his staff their passage into the second of the Grand Lakes, the one that would lead to the river that flowed past the capital city of the Ellala Empire.
I wonder if
they're ours, he thought as he pulled open the door to his cabin and walked quickly up the corridor to the bridge. It was unlikely, since he knew the general whereabouts of all the ships of the alliance, but it wasn’t impossible. They might also be neutrals who just happened to be traveling across the lakes on business unrelated to the war.
"Lookouts are saying there are six vessels ahead," said the captain as Hauser walked onto the bridge. "We have no sight of their hulls, yet, but I'm sure they've spotted us."
Hauser nodded. That was the major weakness of the steam vessels. They poured out a cloud of smoke that rose high into the air, giving them away well over the horizon. Modern ships on Earth had gotten rid of that cloud, but here they had to burn wood or coal, and a cloud was unavoidable.
"Ask the lookouts what flags they're flying."
The captain spoke into a tube, then listened for a moment. He looked over at the mage who was standing next to the scrying ball that was their main com. That woman shook her head, and the captain turned back to the commodore.
"They're flying no flags, sir."
"Then prepare your ships for action. And signal Hannover and Washington. I think we've got a fight coming up."
Bells started sounding across the ship. They didn't have the klaxons, of course, but striking a bell did as good a job. Shouts sounded from the gun deck as the crews ran to their weapons.
Each gun crew had at least one experienced artilleryman from Earth, most often as the gun captain. Their expertise was mostly wasted otherwise, and though there was some need in the field artillery, there were not enough guns deployed to take them all.
On the upper decks the armored Marines and Conyastoya archers ran to their positions. Their job was to keep the enemy from boarding, about the only way the experts thought their foe might be able to take one of the ironclads. Joining them were some of the offensive wizards, while those tasked with defense stayed behind the armor.
Refuge: Book 5: Angels & Demons Page 17