by Steven Drake
He leapt up, and sprinted back up the hill. Crossbow bolts landed behind him as he ran. When he got to the top of the hill again, he stopped. Then he heard the sound of a dozen bowstrings being drawn. Damn.
“Hold,” a voice called out of the darkness, a familiar voice. Darien followed the sound to where a burly-looking man stood a dozen yards away holding a torch. He recognized the man immediately as the Shade he had fought at Kilnar, but what was he doing here? Darien had sensed no magic, and still felt none. He shut his eyes briefly, to focus his mage sight. He caught just a hint of mage aura, dull and muted. Damn it. His weakened state had affected his mage sight as well. He had no way of knowing, with no other auras except Miri, and he had been able to sense hers from anywhere in town. The timing of this discovery could not have been worse. Darien opened his eyes again quickly, wary of a surprise attack.
The man tossed his torch at Darien’s feet, mainly to give his archers an easier target, and took a familiar looking battle axe from his back. Then the man took a few steps forward, to get a better look. As he drew close, the man’s eyes flew open wide. “Darien the Executioner. Well, well. You’re the last person I expected to find here. I suppose this means Traiz failed us.”
“Did you really expect him to be able to kill me?” Darien stalled for time instinctively as he assessed the situation. He was surrounded by archers and swordsmen, mostly humans, but he noted a few of the archers had noticeable elven ears. He felt no magic from anyone besides the burly Shade, who had already proven a formidable opponent. Alone, at his normal strength, Darien could easily defeat this man, but outnumbered, injured, this would be a desperate fight.
“Honestly, no.” The man broke into a wide toothy grin. “That’s why we gave him the stone. Seems he still failed us.” So, the bloodstone had come from the two Shades he had fought at Kilnar. They must have given it to him secretly, or left it somewhere Traiz would be able to find it, either in Kilnar or in their camp. Traiz had disappeared during the battle, and for several hours after. The inquisitor had no combat training and was not expected to fight, so his absence had roused no suspicion. “I don’t know how you got away. Between the Master’s poison and the bloodstone, we wasted a fortune in resources and months of work. I always said we should have just killed you at Kilnar.”
“You really think you could have killed me then. You really think you can kill me now?”
“Then, maybe and maybe not, but now, yes.” The man strode forward confidently to within a few yards. “You can talk tough, but you can’t fool me. You’re so much weaker now. I didn’t even realize it was you until I saw your face. Traiz must have got you with some of the poison at least. You were a fool to come out here, but I guess you didn’t expect to find me either. I admit, after the way you tricked me into hurting Maleera, I’m going to enjoy this. The Master will put me on the Black Council after I bring back your head.”
The man gave some sort of signal, and Darien heard the twang of the arrow strings. He raised a wind that knocked the arrows up into the air, but at the same moment, the burly Shade charged into him, hitting him square in the chest, knocking the air from his lungs, and sending him sprawling across the ground. He rolled to a stop just in time to block the burly Shade’s axe inches from his skull by grabbing the axe handle with both hands. Ordinarily, he would be able to overpower the brute, but he was indeed weakened, and even pushing his augmentation to its limit, he was barely able to hold the man off.
Another thwip sounded, and Darien threw all his strength against the man, turning him to the right. A crossbow bolt clanked off the armor of the burly Shade after missing Darien by inches. Another bolt came quickly, this one lower. Darien pivoted against the axe handle and flipped over axe and wielder alike. The enemy lost his balance for a moment, just enough to give Darien a second to escape. As he landed, he jumped backwards while twisting his body to the right. Another arrow ripped through his shirt. He heard more bowstrings being drawn, and caught sight of two swordsmen charging out of the corner of his eye. In his haste, Darien had neglected to bring his weapon, though he still had several daggers hidden on him. He charged the nearer of the two, aiming his dagger quickly, while raising a puff of flame in the face of the second man. The first swordsman barely had time to raise his weapon before a dagger buried itself in his throat. The swordsman neatly dropped his blade and Darien caught it, while the second man staggered back, disoriented and injured by the minor fire spell, but not seriously hurt. Darien pivoted and leapt away just as several more arrows hit the ground where he had been standing.
The burly Shade had recovered and had already aimed another attack. Darien jumped sideways at the last moment and the axe head exploded into the ground, ripping a gash in the earth. The explosion of flying rock disrupted Darien’s flight, and he could not land cleanly. Instead he hit the ground in a roll to keep moving. He felt the softness of pine needles, so he raised a wind all around him, and a storm of dry pine needles flew up into the air directly into the faces of two more swordsmen who had been positioned to make an attack. The flying needles proved just enough of a distraction to allow Darien time to gain his feet.
The burly Shade had gotten his axe out of the ground and launched another attack, but this time he had begun from slightly farther away. Darien used the extra fractions of a second, parried the blow, and kicked the Shade in the gut just below his breastplate. Darien started to counterattack by raising a spike of earth from the ground against the burly Shade, but the other mage countered powerfully, disrupting his focus before the spell formed. The counter triggered a sudden wave of extreme disorientation. Darien’s vision doubled, and the wound in his side flared with pain. Damn, not now.
Forced to quickly change tactics, Darien pushed hard against the Shade’s back with his arms. At the same time, he pushed off the ground with both legs, launching himself into the air. The desperate move kept the enemy off balance and put some distance between them.
Darien landed over ten feet away and steadied himself just in time to deflect another volley of arrows, but lost his opening to make another attack. The pain continued to pulse. If this continued, he would certainly lose. He started looking for a path of escape. He probably could still outrun them. The burly Shade would pursue, but he could leave the others and resume the battle in a more favorable location. Of course, he still had to get through a well laid perimeter of archers and crossbowmen to get that far. He clenched his teeth and prepared to run toward the campfire. That would be the most unexpected path to take, and the least guarded.
Before he could act, however, a roar of rage echoed through the silent darkness. It came from neither the burly Shade, nor any of his henchmen. Moments later, before anyone had time to react, an archer flew across the torchlit area and slammed into the burly Shade. Darien saw a dark shape moving in great strides through the night. Too large for a man, it could only be Garok. The henchmen had all turned to face this new threat, and the burly Shade cursed and spat.
“No! Focus on the mage. Let the swordsmen handle the ogre.” The command was too late, as chaos had already descended. Garok had already dispatched several enemies, and to the minds of these men, an eight-foot ogre was the more immediate danger.
For several long moments, the burly Shade waited, no doubt debating whether to continue the fight or run. It didn’t matter, Darien could not afford to let this one get away. The enemy absolutely could not learn of his location, especially not now, as he was still vulnerable. Darien the Executioner stared coldly at his enemy, ready to strike the moment he turned to run. Even in his weakened state, Darien still possessed superior speed over his heavier opponent and the heavy plate armor he wore. The burly Shade clenched his teeth and growled, understanding the reality, that with his heavy armor and weapons, he could not outrun the Executioner. It was now just the two of them.
The burly Shade charged with a massive swing of his axe. It cleaved a new rift in the ground, but Darien was no longer there. He dodged to the left and swung the sto
len sword. It clanked against hard steel. Darien leapt back just in time to avoid another blow that rent the earth, and summoned a simple spell, a bright flash centered a few inches from the enemy’s eyes. The Shade staggered back, blinking in shock. With his opponent distracted and several yards away, Darien formed a shadow void in his hands. The effort sent waves of pain through him. His vision blurred and darkened, threatening unconsciousness, but he gritted his teeth and held the spell. He could not afford to stop. He had to end this quickly, before his body gave out entirely. He pushed the void at his enemy. The enemy must have felt it coming, as he raised his axe to block, but that was useless. The void ripped through the axe handle like it was no more than a twig. The force sent the axe head spinning backwards where it buried itself in the burly Shade’s shoulder. At the same instant, the shadow void exploded into the enemy. The armor had enough magical resistance to slow the void, and lessen its impact, but not enough to save this Shade’s life. Metal screeched as it twisted, bones cracked and snapped, and the burly Shade’s intestines tumbled out of the newly opened hole in his gut. He took a step forward, then fell, grasping futilely at the dirt. He looked up just long enough to scowl once more before Darien thrust his sword through the man’s skull.
Darien took just a breath, then turned to see Garok still engaged with several swordsmen. The massive blue ogre had several arrows protruding from his bulky midsection, but that hadn’t slowed him at all. Whoever these archers were, they obviously had never fought an ogre before, or they would have known standard arrows were near useless against them at any range. Still, Garok was outnumbered and giving ground. Given enough time, they might overwhelm the ogre, but with their leader defeated, their time was up.
Darien moved swiftly as the wind to the nearest soldier, and buried his sword in the man’s back, then set his sights on the next. He made his way forward, killing as he went, always taking the furthest back soldier. Focused on the ogre, none of them saw their death approaching, until Darien reached the final two men who were still swinging wildly when Garok looked down and smiled at them. In their confusion, they froze, and turned around just in time to see the flash of steel that removed their heads from their bodies.
The carnage of blood and gore lay strewn over an area of perhaps twenty yards round. Snow now fell steadily, and Darien made a quick check of the area to be sure no one had escaped. Everyone within earshot would have heard his name, and thus had to die. Fortunately, everyone who had participated in the battle at the top of the hill was accounted for.
“None escaped. I made certain,” Garok stated. Darien nodded to the ogre.
“Thank you. I am grateful. Had you not come along, that might have gone worse for me.”
“No trouble,” the ogre rumbled. “Mirisa grew concerned, so I checked outside. I read the tracks same as you.” Garok reached down and lifted up the nearest body, then started to pick casually at the corpse. “Now who might you be?” he curiously asked the lifeless body.
Darien chuckled, but suddenly something occurred to him, the scout he had left on the hillside. “Just a moment, I’ll return shortly.” Darien found the man just where he’d left him with a crossbow bolt embedded in his back, alive, but still under the effects of the sleeping spell, groaning quietly as he slept. The Executioner placed a hand on the back of the man’s neck and withdrew the magic, then grasped the crossbow bolt and ripped it out. The man howled and rolled back and forth in pain.
“Hold still, fool, if you don’t want to bleed to death,” Darien growled out a command. The mousey man froze. Next Darien placed his hand over the bolt wound and channeled hot fire. The wound scorched shut in seconds, but the young man howled once again in pain, then turned over and stared up. The young man looked up with terrified eyes, an expression Darien knew quite well. This young man believed he was about to die. When men looked upon the Executioner with such eyes, they were usually right, but this young man was luckier than most. Of the sixteen men who had been camped, only this one would live to see another sunrise.
“Oh stop,” Darien growled. “I’ve spent entire battles with worse wounds than you have, including this one.” Darien rubbed his side. He knew the mark would look awful in the morning, and Miri would surely notice. Darien reached down and hauled the mousey youth to his feet. “Now listen. All your comrades are dead, so consider yourself fortunate. Attempt to escape, and you’ll quickly join them. I’m in no mood to be merciful.” The young man shook his head up and down vehemently with surprised and grateful eyes.
“Ho down there, what are you up to?” Garok called from the top of the hillock.
“Just saving the life of a fool, and making sure he will be able to answer some questions, like who he is working for, and whether there are any more in his group.”
“No need. I already know this scum.”
Darien marched his prisoner to the top of the hill, and had him lie face down, then put the man to sleep once again. Without knowing anything about this youth, Darien took no chances. “You know them?”
Garok held up a copper chain with a talisman that appeared to be a white stone shaped into a fang, against a black onyx field. “The White Wolves.” Garok spat the name out. “Zandrek’s men. I suppose it was only a matter of time before they found us.”
“And who is Zandrek?” Darien asked.
“Mirisa’s older brother, Zitane’s twin, though the two are nothing alike.” Darien contemplated what that might mean. He had suspected some sort of dispute over the succession had sent Zitane and Mirisa to Exire, but he had given it little more thought. Whatever the case, these men were somehow connected to the Shades, and that meant that this Zandrek might be also. Perhaps he could follow the trail to find the source of the army that attacked Kilnar. “Now my turn for questions.” The ogre frowned and bellowed. “Why did you come out here?”
“I noticed a group of people behaving suspiciously at the festival. I followed their tracks to this camp. They had a perimeter set up around their camp, not something a group of innocent travelers would do. I just wanted to see who they were and what they were up to. I have enemies that I would rather not discover my presence here.”
“Ah, I see. The large fellow, he knew you, yes. Was he your enemy, perhaps someone you would rather not know you hide in Exire?” Garok looked down sternly. “You seemed concerned no one escape. Either you are bloodthirsty, or you wish to leave no witness. I think you are not one who kills for amusement.” The ogre had correctly assessed the situation, and it was pointless to deny it.
“Obviously, you’re right. There’s no point concealing the matter. That man was a member of the Order of the Shade. I am a former member, and if they knew I took refuge in Exire, they would almost certainly send more like him after me. This is why I’ve been so eager to leave. I put everyone around me in danger.”
The ogre nodded as he started plucking the arrows out of his thick hide. As each arrow came loose, a dab of green pasty blood oozed to the surface, hardening even as it filled each wound.
“Shades, I have heard of them. Their Master claims to be the Demon King, does he not?”
“How do you know of them?” Darien arched an eyebrow.
“I was a wanderer, as many of my kind are. I do not call any land home. I left my village with my brothers when I was not yet grown.” The ogre smiled a bittersweet smile of recollection. “My brothers and I were wandering in the lands you call the Green Mountains. We met a man who called himself a Shade. He claimed a new Demon King had arisen, and claimed dominion over our race. He demanded we bend knee, and we refused. We fled west, but he gave chase. We ran to the deepest parts of the forest. One by one, my brothers fell, until only my eldest brother and I remained. We knew we could not escape, so we set an ambush. He claimed my brother’s life, before I claimed his. I was gravely wounded, and I nearly died, but instead I met Lady Mirisa. She did not care that I was an ogre. She tended my wounds and brought me back to health. I have served her ever since.”
“I see,�
�� Darien said. “I am impressed you were able to kill a Shade. Do Mirisa and Zitane know this?”
“I have told them what happened, but I did not realize there were others that name themselves Shades. I have never met another until yourself. Such power is frightening.”
Darien shut his eyes and lowered his head a moment. Here was yet more evidence of the Shades. He had to find out more about them. Moreover, he had to leave soon. He could not afford much more delay.
“I cannot stay here. Not now. Once they realize their man has been killed, they will investigate. They cannot find me here. The people of Exire would pay for it. I have to leave soon.” At that moment, a wave of dizziness passed over him. His vision blacked out momentarily, and he staggered.
“You seem to have little regard for your own life, half-elf,” Garok observed. “Anyone can see you are in no shape to travel. I think without Lady Mirisa’s healing, you will not last long.”
“Enough people have died for my sake,” Darien grumbled through clenched teeth.
“I understand your difficulty, friend.” The ogre crossed his arms across his chest. “Out of all my brothers, I alone survived. I loved my brothers, and I miss them. For a time, I wished I had died with them.” The ogre trailed off and looked into the distance.
“And now?” Darien asked, curious to find out what had changed.
“Now, I understand that any of us would have died for the others, yet by fate or luck, I was the one who lived. There is no reason in it, no justice, so I seek to honor their sacrifice by living well, by finding purpose in my life.”
“So you protect Lady Mirisa?”
The ogre nodded and smiled, showing his rounded teeth. “She is a special soul. It seems she cannot escape Zandrek even here. I have no doubt he sent these men. It seems your enemies are now our enemies as well, whether you are here or not. Maybe we face them together.”