Demonstorm lotr-3

by James Barclay

  Darrick nodded. 'And with everything they have got.'

  Hirad swallowed on a dry throat. The Al-Arynaar at the head had just entered the junction. To either side, Flame Walls, deep and scorching, sprang up, fifty feet and more high. Drivers fought with suddenly panicked horses. Shouts of alarm rang out in the enclosed space. Hirad swore. He could feel the heat on his face.

  'Scared me half to death,' he said.

  On the adjacent wagon, Sharyr managed a smile.

  'They got the wards out further than I thought. That's good.'

  'Would have been nice to have a little more warning.'

  'Hmm.' Darrick shrugged then raised his voice, scanning about him to check all horses were back under control. 'Let's keep this tight. Maintain your pace, maintain your focus. Do not give those bastards opportunity.'

  Hirad could see the response to the voice of authority. Postures straightened, calls of encouragement bounced around. Swords and axes were gripped with more belief, back to the ready position. The trotting of feet and hoof took on a military rhythm.

  'That's more like it,' breathed Darrick. 'Nothing like a little purpose.'

  The wagon train drove on up Norgate Way. The detritus of two years' neglect lay underfoot. The collected filth of decay powerful in the nostrils. At the playhouse, they turned right in response to Sharyr's promptings and the FlameWalls burning to the left, obscuring that part of Seamstone Square.

  The playhouse was a circular structure with entrances at the four major points of the compass. Around its edge, the square was packed with darkened eateries, inns, shops still displaying gaudy clothes, all topped by two or three storeys of rooms and lodgings.

  The sound of their passage was amplified here, echoes reverberating across the enclosed space. It was a sobering counterpart to the silence covering the city. The gargoyles and carved faces gazed down at them, laughing, crying, enraged, desolate. Monitoring the passing of the last desperate attempt to wrest control of Balaia from their nemesis.

  Hirad bit his lip. The quiet was picking at their nerves and courage. Every doorway, every window could conceal an enemy. The sky could fill at any moment. There was no safety among the buildings that had once provided security for so many.

  'Where are the Xeteskians?' he said, unable to speak at more than a whisper.

  'Out of the way,' said Denser.

  The train turned left and right to exit the square and start along King's Approach. Nicknamed 'The Thread', the street wound its way to the heart of the city. They could see lights burning in

  Dystran's tower in the college, beacons still almost half a mile distant.

  Alleys and side streets ran off The Thread all along its length. Some were barely the width of a man. Others as wide as a wagon. All were silent, all deserted.

  A short distance further on, The Thread narrowed and twisted around the rear of the central grain store. The Al-Arynaar vanguard closed form. The Unknown, Ark and Kas dropped back and hitched rides on the sides of Erienne's wagon. Hirad noticed Sharyr look behind him and curse.

  'Problem?' asked Darrick, noting it too.

  'The wards should have triggered behind,' he said. 'Something's dropped out.'

  'Or been interfered with,' said Hirad.

  'Unlikely,' said Sharyr. 'We-'

  The rear of the grain store burst out onto the street, engulfing Sharyr's wagon. The noise, a crack like thunder followed by the bass rumble of an avalanche, pressed on the ears, juddered through their bodies. Huge blocks of stone smashed into the wagon's flimsy side, crushing the roof frame, battering into the horse and its driver. The two helpless Xeteskians were thrown aside. The wagon was driven sideways across the cobbles. The axles collapsed under the pressure and the splintering mass collided with The Raven's wagon in a squeal of torn metal. Standing on its left sideboard, Kas took the fall force of the impact. Darrick, Hirad and Denser were jerked violently left and then away, tumbling onto the ground and into the traces and horses.

  Now the air was full of screams and the sudden roar of demon cacophony. Hirad scrambled to his feet and grabbed his sword from the ground, trying to take it all in. He skipped out of the way of the horses which were bucking and trying to drag their wagon forwards, though its wheels were blocked by fallen stone.

  There could be no survivors inside the other lead wagon. Suarav and Sharyr were getting to their feet but they were all there was moving. Karron were streaming out of the shattered grain store. Ahead, the Al-Arynaar and Auum's Tai were already engaged in fierce fighting and half cut-off from the wagon train. They weren't

  making any real headway. It was obvious why. The crushed wagon had been carrying ColdRoom mages. The demons were protected.

  The situation was quickly becoming desperate. Al-Arynaar had rushed to stem the advance of karron from the grain store but were outnumbered and fragmented. An alert group of elven mages was crouched in the open, casting, but above them winged demons were heading into the attack.

  'Darrick, Denser. Up, up. Wall side, now.' Hirad led them, coming across a groggy Unknown Warrior being helped to his feet by Ark. 'We've got to get Erienne away. They'll want her.'

  The storm of demons thickened, strike-strain barrelling down on them. Hirad led The Raven to the rear of the wagon. Thraun appeared with Erienne in his arms, blood streaming down the side of his head.

  'Get her back inside the ColdRoom shell. Run, Thraun, we're right behind you,' ordered Hirad.

  The first strike-strain were on them, reavers closing in.

  'We need to get Kas,' said Hirad.

  'You cannot help him,' said Ark. 'He is released.'

  The Raven ran hard. Hirad came to The Unknown's left to help Ark. Demons flew around them, reavers landing in front and stalking into the attack.

  'Go,' said The Unknown, his head running with blood, voice a little slurred.

  Hirad nodded and ran on, streaking round Thraun's left, Darrick mirroring him right. Both men sheathed their swords but while Darrick drew his mace, Hirad had another idea. There were too many of the reavers for them to take quickly. Al-Arynaar were flooding in to help but weren't going to be fast enough.

  Dagger in hand, the barbarian barrelled straight into the clutch of reavers, taking three of them to the ground with him. He landed on top of them, hearing Darrick join the attack and Thraun shout a warning.

  The reavers were strong. Hirad took a punch across his face that knocked him half away. He felt hands scrabbling to get purchase under his chin and over his heart, searching for his soul. He blocked a clawed hand and jabbed his fingers into the eyes of the demon struggling to rise from beneath him. The creature howled. Hirad's

  next thrust took the creature under the arm. It spasmed and was still. Another pushed him away. Thraun ran by.

  'Keep going!' shouted Hirad.

  A hand clamped around the top of his head and jerked him backwards. He fell onto his back, fists flailing out to either side. His vision was full of demon flesh. There was a flash of steel. One of his assailants was flung aside. He turned onto his stomach and pushed himself to his haunches. Ark stood above him, The Unknown on one arm, his mace in his other hand.

  'Down,' he said. Hirad ducked his head and the mace swept by again. There was a squeal. 'Go.'

  Hirad came back to The Unknown's side. 'Not without him. Come on.'

  They set off again, Darrick taking up station ahead of them and Denser, a ForceCone directed ahead, clearing a path. Al-Arynaar had surrounded Thraun and were shepherding him back down the train. Demons were flying in all along The Thread now, attacking those within the still-functioning shell. Behind, the fighting was intense. Elves falling back in control. But the way ahead was blocked. The two ruined carts and tons of stone were strewn across the way. Just back inside the shell, Hirad took the time to look hard. He dragged strike-strain from his back as he did so, crushing their bodies in his fists or underfoot.

  The two surviving Xeteskians ran past him. He could still make out Auum, leading the Al-Arynaar.
There was a huge density of the squat karron in between the TaiGethen and the remainder of the train. He would survive, he always did. And the train had troubles of its own, Under heavy attack from above, there were still efforts to turn it around but in the tight space and with frightened horses it was proving almost impossible.

  Thraun, with Erienne crushed close to him, was heading towards the nearest wagon. Denser was by his side. Darrick had run further down the train to oversee the turning of the wagons. The Unknown, coming to his senses, pushed Hirad away.

  'I'm all right.'

  'You're as bad a judge as me.'

  'What's the situation?' asked the big man.

  'Auum's cut off but he's all right so far. Darrick's back there. We

  have to turn this train around, get out of the east end of the playhouse square. The rest of us are here but Kas has gone. I haven't seen Eilaan or Rebraal. We're in trouble.'

  'Very astute,' said The Unknown, smiling through the blood slicking his face.

  They paused. Al-Arynaar ran around them. Reavers were beaten back while The Raven headed for relative safety. And Hirad heard a voice that gladdened him. Strong, authoritative, elven.

  'Let's get those wagons turned!' shouted Rebraal. 'Move, Al-Arynaar. Yniss protects us.'

  Wagons began to move with more purpose, elves and humans goading terrified horses into action. Hirad could see Darrick directing those turning the rear wagons. The General's mouth was moving but he couldn't hear him over the din around them. But whatever he was saying it was generating instant organisation. He smiled and grabbed Denser's arm.

  'Look at Darrick. Can't really stop being a commander, can he? I-'

  At the back of the line, buildings were burst from the inside left and right. Rubble flew in a storm, tattering the rear wagons, destroying them both and collapsing the rear ColdRoom. Demons poured into the street and from above, driving their advantage home while the Al-Arynaar struggled to regroup. The sound of the collapse slapped into their faces, drained their spirits.

  Hirad stared, mouth hanging open, his sentence never to be finished. Darrick was gone, buried under die deluge of rock. Gone. For an instant he thought he saw the General through the dust, struggling to rise, but it could only have been the demons storming into the attack, a trick to torment him.

  'Darrick. NO!'

  Hirad started to run but Denser got in front of him.

  'Hirad, stop.'

  'Out of my way, Denser. Darrick's down there.'

  'He's gone, Hirad, you know what you saw.'

  T saw the building fall, I saw die demons come out. Get out of rny way.'

  'Hirad, he's dead. And if we don't do something very quickly, We'll be joining him. Please.'

  Hirad looked into Denser's eyes, saw the tears forming there, the desperation for Hirad to understand, to accept. Biting back his anger, he nodded his head.

  Around them demons shrieked their delight. Karron roared and pressed their attacks harder. He could hear Rebraal bawling orders. Elves and the few surviving men outside of The Raven fell back towards the centre of the train from both sides. Strike-strain rained in on the closing space. He looked to The Unknown who was wiping blood from his face and looking left and right, disbelief in his eyes.

  Darrick was dead. The wagon train was stopped for good. They were trapped.

  Chapter 35

  Seeing the broken bodies of Al-Arynaar, Xeteskians and the Protector Kas, Auum had time for a whispered prayer while he led his Tai into the fight against the karron.

  'Tai, as one.'

  Al-Arynaar were streaming in, arranging themselves around the flanks of the TaiGethen cell. The karron were being hampered by the rubble they had created. The TaiGethen, born to the treacherous surfaces and obstacles of the rainforest, had no such problems.

  Auum hurdled a block of stone, ducked a support strut and launched himself into his first enemy. He landed both feet on the creature's chest, driving it onto its back and into the massed ranks behind it.

  His balance sure, Auum stepped right, pivoted and lashed a roundhouse luck into the next, knocking it sideways and buying him all the space he needed. Evunn followed up his attack, sliding into the arm of the first downed karron, dragging it away from its body. Duele, sweat beading on his brow, dealt the killing blow. Neither elf stopped moving, coming fluidly to their feet and pouncing on their next victim. Auum didn't need to look to know they were with him. He heard the touch of their feet and the power of their strikes. And he heard the cursyrd die.

  He rose in front of a karron, breathing hard, feeling the exertion and seeing the tide of enemy still before them. The creature grunted and swung both arms inwards. Auum blocked right and left, feeling the shudder through his body. He locked eyes with the lesser cursyrd and saw its incomprehension of his strength. He butted its eyes. It squealed, arms rising. Duele's knife snapped in.

  Auum stepped left and glanced right. He flat-palmed a karron in the chest, pushing the creature out of his way. His Tai ran around

  his flanks, knives catching the morning sunlight. The karron was stretched and killed.

  But while the Tai fought going forwards, the Al-Arynaar were being forced back. More karron were pouring into the line, hammers and spikes whirling. The squat creatures had no care for their own and no coordinated attack pattern. Each called its own guttural squawk while it bludgeoned its way forwards, desperate to feel elven flesh under its weapons. Auum saw a press forming behind.

  'Break!'

  His Tai danced back into the space they had created. Behind them, Al-Arynaar mages had deployed ForceCones to keep the winged cursyrd busy.

  The karron surged out of the shattered grain store. Auum saw creatures batter each other in their haste. Deep-coloured blood sprayed into the air. To the right, the elves hadn't retreated quickly enough. The wave of karron beat into them. A spiked arm drove left, catching a warrior in the side of the head. The karron squawked its pleasure. The elven body was tossed aside. Hammers fell fast and dense. Auum poised to strike back, identifying targets.

  'Hold!' he called. 'Let Tual guide your hands.'

  But down the train, the winged cursyrd were flooding the street. There was precious little movement from the remaining wagons. Auum had to buy more time but the karron were strong and determined. Not enough mages could be brought to bear to break the line without allowing the reavers to attack their rear. The warriors had no choice but to stand.

  The right side of the elven line fractured. Karron trampled elves underfoot, crushing skulls and bodies with hammer limbs, splitting flesh with spikes. The Al-Arynaar responded and closed the line but seven karron were through, threatening the thinly guarded mage defence.

  'Tai, we move.'

  Auum slammed the heel of his palm into the chest of an advancing karron and turned to run at the loose enemy. He didn't take a single pace towards them. In the line beside them, an elf missed his strike. The spiked arm of a karron swung, splintering his skull. The dead elf was flung back and sideways, colliding with Duele. The TaiGethen half fended the body away but stumbled to his knees on slick

  cobbles. The karron stepped through and struck its hammer limb into the elf s chest.

  'No!' Auum saw Duele flung across the street and was already on the move to his side. Evunn swept the karron's legs from under it and delivered a blistering attack to the creature's body. Its squawk of triumph clotting in its throat, Evunn's short blade buried in its armpit.

  Auum reached Duele just as the Al-Arynaar line collapsed. To the right, mages were attacked, ForceCones dispersing. Winged cursyrd stormed into the space, cutting them off from the wagon train. He had no time to care. He scooped his Tai into his arms. Blood ran from Duele's mouth but he was still breathing.

  'Yniss protect you, my friend,' he whispered, his limbs shaking. He raised his head and voice. 'Break. Run for the college.'

  And with the pounding of the karron vibrating cobbles underfoot and the shrieks of winged cursyrd loud in his ears, Auum led h
is people in a desperate run for sanctuary.

  There was a single explosion to mark Darrick's death, a Xeteskian ward triggered way too late to stop the carnage. A handful of karron were caught in its blast and tongues of flame brought demons down from the sky but it didn't stop their advance.

  Karron smashed the shattered wagons and allied bodies aside, driving up The Thread towards the one remaining ColdRoom casting. The sky darkened with strike-strain and reavers, their cluttering and taunting reverberating from the blank faces of the buildings. Al-Arynaar rushed to form a fighting line within the ColdRoom but the tide was going to sweep them away.

  'We've got to get to cover,' roared The Unknown into the tumult. 'Denser, I need an option.'

  Denser was ahead of him. He indicated a narrow alley ahead and right. 'The playhouse. It's our only chance for this many people.'

  'What'll it do for us?'

  'Buy us time. Here, we're all dead.'

  He was right. The back of the train was lost completely. Demons were diving into the shell, karron battering into defenders on the ground. Hirad turned to the head of the column in time to see the Al-Arynaar line fold.

  'Fuck.' He ran to Rebraal and grabbed his shoulders, his own limbs quivering with rage. 'I want ForceCone mages down that passage now. We're heading for the playhouse. Disengage your forward line. Do it now. Don't let those bastards get anyone else.'

  Rebraal nodded and began barking commands. Hirad swung back to The Raven.

  'Thraun, behind me with Denser. Ark, don't drop the big man. Look out for Pheone and the Xeteskians. Rebraal, it's now. Raven! Raven with me!'

  Rebraal had been quick and his mages accurate. Three strode down the passageway, warriors at their backs. Hirad went after them, hearing The Raven in his wake. In The Thread, the bodies of man, elf and demon littered the ground. A Raven was amongst them. The four remaining wagons emptied and the last ColdRoom dispersed. The demons surged, pushing the routed Balaians before them. The tight entrance to the passage was quickly becoming a botdeneck.

  'Dammit.' Hirad broke into a run and shouted ahead in elvish. 'Too slow. Drop the Cones and let's move.'