Terry W. Ervin

by Flank Hawk

  I couldn’t believe it. I stood on the back of the fallen ogre. Enchanter Jonas had helped, and it had fought poorly, but still, I’d defeated it!

  My victory was short lived. Enchanter Jonas cried out sharply and fell to his knees in the midst of the slain goblins. He’d dropped his rapier and clutched his stomach with his right hand while feebly gesturing a protective spell with his left.

  A hunched, black-robed figure upon a great black warhorse held a gnarled fist in front of him. As he slowly twisted and tightened his grip, Enchanter Jonas opened his mouth but no sound came out.

  I’d mistaken the black-robed man for a necromancer. It was worse! I leapt off the ogre and charged the spellcaster and his steed. He was a sorcerer—probably the one that slew Greater Enchanter Lallen. Enchanter Jonas was a lesser enchanter and stood no chance.

  I had to act fast. With no spear to throw I’d have to use my sword and overcome his warhorse first. But if Enchanter Jonas could hang on and keep the sorcerer’s attention, I might get the sorcerer before he killed both of us and went after Wizard Seelain whose wind spirit still raged against the howling giant.

  Enchanter Jonas toppled, clutching his stomach with both hands, before I’d taken four steps. This allowed the sorcerer to focus his attention on me. He raised his deformed left hand and clenched it into a fist. An iron grip seized my heart, stopping it.

  I stumbled, dropping my sword as the icy spell sent tendrils of searing pain through my chest and out to my arms. Only powerful sorcerers could destroy a man’s heart. I struggled to breathe as the cold, sinister grip spread. I had to stop it.

  I rolled onto my side and curled up before reaching with my mind, grasping for the strands of energy I’d used in the past to heal cuts. It was hard to concentrate through the pain and my heart’s feeble attempt to beat. I chanted with what breath remained while opening my mind to the maelstrom of energy raging beyond normal senses. I drew upon a shimmering strand, one that the eight syllable mantra helped me recognize, and redirected it to the center of my chest. Where it touched, a fleck of warmth penetrated the bitter cold deep in my chest. I sought out a broader strand among the swirling energy, one that I fought to harness.

  I looked up, shivering. The sorcerer ignored me, and this gave me hope. With renewed vigor I went after a vibrant, narrow string of magical energy and redirected it. The sorcerer had left his spell unattended, overconfident of its eventual effect. Instead, he looked down the road and urged his mount forward.

  With a third strand I broke the deadly grip. My heart painfully lurched back into rhythm. Wizard Seelain screamed.

  The black horse stood between me and Wizard Seelain, and I didn’t know if I could stand or for how long. I had Short Two Blades’ talisman, but how long would it take to summon him? I reached for my crossbow.

  The sorcerer sat strapped to the saddle, his back twisted at such an odd angle from his hips that even robes couldn’t hide it. My arms ached but I drew back the string and set the quarrel. The sorcerer’s hand was held high, clenched in a fist. He shook it in triumph as beyond him Grand Wizard Seelain staggered and fell to her knees.

  The warhorse jumped at my movement but its master ignored the warning. I took aim and fired. The quarrel flew true and struck the sorcerer high in the back along his twisted spine.

  The dark spellcaster cried out even as his mount spun around and bore down on me. The sorcerer’s black hood flew back, revealing his misshapen face and deformed jaw. I pulled Guzzy’s dirk from my boot and hurled it before rolling right to avoid the charging horse’s pounding hooves. The dirk found its mark, but struck hilt first and glanced off the sorcerer’s forehead.

  The horse galloped past without slowing. I climbed to my feet. The giant searched among the trees near our camp while Wizard Seelain waved to me and pointed skyward.

  If the dragons were coming, great. But my concern was on the ground. I saw no sign of ogres or goblins, or Shaws and his men. Most of the pain in my chest and arms had receded. I retrieved my sword and Guzzy’s dirk, and ran to Enchanter Jonas. I rolled him over. He was breathing and his eyes fluttered. Brushing bits of road grit from his face, I whispered urgently, “Enchanter, the dragons are near.”

  He struggled to sit up, but was too weak. “Flank Hawk,” he said with labored breath, managing a smile. Then, his eyes widened and his hand gripped mine. “The zombies,” he said. “They’ve just been awakened.”

  I yelled to Wizard Seelain, “The zombies, they’re awake!” Beyond her, a dragon crashed to the ground, pierced by the giant’s hurled spear. A second dragon responded with a stream of fiery breath, sending the giant retreating our way.

  I helped Enchanter Jonas to his feet.

  “My rapier,” he said, reaching down.

  I didn’t argue. Grimacing at the lingering pain in my chest, I bent to pick it up. The blistered giant lumbered closer. Each impacting step rattled my teeth. Enchanter Jonas and I supported each other as we scrambled off the road.

  “I can’t run, Flank Hawk,” said the enchanter, leaning against a tree. “The zombies. Go.”

  Wizard Seelain ran up to us. Her left eye was closed with blood and gore dripping down her cheek. “Come,” she said, ignoring her pain. “Back this way. We stick to the road.” She grabbed the enchanter’s arm. “Hurry, the prince knows.”

  Even before Jonas could object, I grabbed and draped him over my shoulder. “Too late,” I warned in a whisper, and carried him towards the woods.

  Wizard Seelain and I saw the zombies emerge fifty yards to the south. “Follow me,” she urged. I did, gritting my teeth at the burden of the enchanter.

  A dragon roared, swooping close to the road, possibly to attack and scatter the zombies. Wizard Seelain whispered a spell, sending a small wind elemental into the sky. “There’s a clearing near the top of this hill. We must reach it ahead of the zombies.”

  After no more than twenty steps up the steep hillside, I knew I couldn’t make it. The enchanter realized it too. “Set me down, Flank Hawk.”

  My right arm and chest burned. I couldn’t breathe. I had no choice but to put him down before I fell.

  The enchanter sat with his back to a tree. “The sorcerer injured you deeply, too.” He pointed to the wizard’s eye. “And he injured you. I can delay the zombies.”

  Wizard Seelain nodded in agreement. “They’re souled. It won’t take them long to pick up our trail.” Movement behind her caught my eye and I drew my sword.

  “Flank Hawk,” whispered Shaws from a short distance away. “Stand down.” He stepped over a fallen pine and moved next to Wizard Seelain.

  The grand wizard assessed the situation and said to Shaws, “Zombies are loose. Carry Jonas and follow me. Flank Hawk, bring up the rear. Ward our back.”

  Wizard Seelain led the way, leaning heavily on her staff. Shaws carried the enchanter without difficulty. I watched our rear as we ascended. Twice, a dragon swooped overhead, above the trees.

  My chest began to burn again, increasing in intensity with each step. The sorcerer’s spell was killing me but there was nothing anyone could do. We halted at the sound of a horn not far below. Several others answered.

  “They’ve found our trail,” said Shaws. He set Enchanter Jonas down. “Can you continue?”

  The enchanter looked better than he did at the base of the hill. He stood, leaning a shoulder against a white pine. “I can.”

  The aching extended down into my arm. I’d learned how to direct healing energy within myself but I’d already expended my strength and it’d be hours before I could make another attempt. “I’ll stay,” I said. I sheathed my sword and loaded my crossbow, trying to keep my pain hidden.

  Wizard Seelain started to say something, but Shaws cut her off, “Go, Wizard. I’ll set a false trail, then we’ll make it to the road. Tell the prince, if the opportunity presents itself to attempt a rope retrieval.”

  I nodded grimly and set my quarrel. “Grand Wizard, Enchanter, it’s our duty to safeguard you. If you
don’t make it, our effort will mean nothing.”

  “Sacrifice, you mean,” said Enchanter Jonas.

  “We’ll retrieve,” promised Wizard Seelain.

  The three horns sounded, closer. A fourth and fifth added their echoing call. I leaned against a tree, taking shallow breaths. Wizard Seelain and Enchanter Jonas continued to climb, quickly disappearing from sight.

  Shaws walked through the trees to our left, snapping a few branches and kicking fallen needles. I didn’t look forward to facing a pack of souled zombies. They could think while being just as relentless as the mundanes. I spit on my quarrel’s head and spread a pinch of salt on it.

  When Shaws returned, he squatted near a tree next to me. “You don’t look so good,” he whispered.

  I spit on Guzzy’s dirk and spread salt across the saliva. “Sorcerer damaged my heart,” I whispered back.

  “Is that what happened to the wizard and enchanter?”

  I stared down the hill, into the slivers of moonlight that penetrated the branches. “I shot him before he killed them.” Cold sweat dripped from under my helmet, down my face.

  Shaws stared down the hill too. “You fought zombies before, right?”

  I nodded, and carefully put the dirk back in its boot sheath.

  He appraised me. “That dirk won’t do much good in hand-to-hand, even with the salt.”

  “I know,” I said. “I don’t intend to end up one of them.”

  “Salted death wound. Don’t worry, Flank Hawk. I won’t let them get you.”

  I wanted to ask him what had happened to the men he’d taken to fight the ogres and goblins, but didn’t. “I can take care of myself. The sorcerer’s already slain me, it’s just taking longer.”

  “Then I’ll carry your—” He stopped in mid-sentence as movement below signaled the enemy closing. He winked and shifted to a tree further down the hill.

  I continued with my shallow breaths and wondered if I’d be able to inflict my own death wound. I knew Shaws would carry me out, if he survived. Resting, my arm’s ache had again begun to recede, making it easier to hold my crossbow. I didn’t want to die. But knowing Grand Wizard Seelain would make it, that I’d protected her as ordered, made it easier to accept.

  One zombie, wearing rotting padded armor and carrying a falchion similar to Short Two Blades’, marched up the hill, hunched over, examining our trail. Four other zombies, carrying swords and shields bearing a long-toothed tiger emblem, followed.

  Shaws edged around the large pine, avoiding detection by the tracker zombie. He was leaving that one for me. I took aim, catching a glimpse of the cold, dispassionate intelligence in its eyes. A close shot I didn’t dare miss.

  Shaws spun around the tree, taking the third zombie’s head. He waded among the others, severing limbs and heads. The tracker grabbed a tarnished brass horn hanging at his side. I shot him in the throat.

  He screeched in salt inflicted agony. I was so unaccustomed to zombies crying out that the sound set me back for a half second. Still, I lunged forward and hacked at the arm holding the horn. I severed it but didn’t duck quickly enough. The falchion deflected off my helmet, staggering me. I parried the hissing tracker zombie’s next thrust. My chest and arm began to ache with renewed intensity. I had to end it quickly.

  I blocked a downward cut and grabbed my quarrel lodged in my foe’s neck. The zombie tried to grab my hand with his stump, forgetting I’d cut it off. I yanked the quarrel out, taking a hunk of decayed flesh with it. I stabbed at its face and missed. It slammed the pommel of its falchion against my helmet, knocking me to the ground. I dropped the quarrel and pulled Guzzy’s dagger from my boot.

  I held my sword to block its downswing but knew the coming blow was too strong. Before our blades met, Shaws barreled into the zombie from the side, knocking it into a tree. The impact didn’t stun the zombie as it would a man. Still, Shaws was too quick; He sheared off the zombie’s right arm with an upward cut and came around with a blow, decapitating it.

  Without wasting time he grabbed me by the arm and lifted me to my feet. “See, you didn’t need your dirk.” He took it from my hand. “Can you run?”

  The stabbing pain had spread from my chest and arms up my neck to my jaw. I shook my head before falling back, holding my chest. The sorcerer’s pain fell upon me with a vengeance. Everything went black.

  Chapter 16

  The vacuum of space above the U.S.A.

  2,873 Years before the Reign of King Tobias of Keesee

  Unknown to the U.S. Government, her enemies had engaged in intensive ballistic missile development programs. Each sub-launched missile carried decoys and multiple independently targetable reentry vehicles. The two surviving ballistic missiles each deployed three MIRVs, each carrying a nuclear warhead assigned a different destination. Fourteen deployed decoys added their signature to the radar and infrared tracking screens, adding complexity to the U.S. Military’s interception effort.

  I awoke to the crackling of a small campfire. My chest still hurt, but much less than before. Songbirds chirped nearby. It was a beautiful sound to hear.

  I opened my eyes to a canopy of maple trees above, and carefully turned my head to face the fire. Enchanter Jonas sat huddled close to it, as if to ward off a chill despite the spring afternoon’s warmth. Beyond him, Road Toad and Shaws knelt on either side of Grand Wizard Seelain. A serpent cavalryman held her arms against the ground while another sat on her legs. The prince stood nearby, looking down on their actions with concern.

  Road Toad slid a rolled leather strip in front of Wizard Seelain’s mouth. “Bite on this, Wizard,” he urged gently. “What I have to do will hurt.”

  Wizard Seelain nodded and bit down. She grunted and her body stiffened as Road Toad cleaned and examined her ruptured eye.

  After a thorough examination, he stood and tossed the bloodstained rag back in the pot of steaming water. “It’s destroyed,” he said to the Wizard before glancing at the prince. “The infection is under control, and it appears that some viable tissue has survived. A powerful healer may be able to fully restore the eye.” He rubbed his right cheek and chin. “It’ll cost, but certainly coin isn’t an issue.”

  The prince nodded and noticed that I’d propped myself up on the folded canvas tent spread under me. “Flank Hawk has awoken.”

  Everyone but Enchanter Jonas looked my direction. Road Toad brushed himself off and walked past the fire. “Flank Hawk,” he said, kneeling next to me. “No need asking how you feel. I’m just glad you made it, and with a little help, recover.”

  “How long have I been out?”

  “This is the second day of our return flight.”

  I lay back with brief flashes of events running through my head. Rain and thunder with Road Toad and Shaws huddled close inside a tent as I endured the sorcerer inflicted pain. Shaws feeding me a bitter clear drink containing willow bark. “Now I remember some.”

  Road Toad knelt and rested his hand on my shoulder. An intense stare preceded his words. “Yes, just ahead of a pursuing zombie horde, Private Shaws caught the retrieval rope attached to Hell Furnace.” Road Toad glanced over his shoulder for a second, nodding to Shaws. “He held onto you and the rope for twenty minutes while escaping the area.”

  His intense stare remained. “Before we were able to catch up with the rest of the bevy today, Private Shaws ambushed a goblin patrol. Lucky for you, their leader was a shaman. We forced him to use his magics to heal you.” Road Toad stood. “Well, his feeble powers were enough to keep you alive.” He smiled and winked. “Get some rest.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to rest. The more I thought about it, the more confident I was that Road Toad had just lied.

  I traveled, slung under Hell Furnace like the enchanters did on the way to the Necromancer’s fortified city. The captured souled zombie traveled slung as well. It remained gagged and bound as if in a caterpillar’s cocoon. Occasionally, it would moan and writhe.

  Because Enchanter Jonas was weak like me,
he traveled slung beneath a dragon too. In addition to recovering from his confrontation with the sorcerer, he was exhausted from continual efforts to weaken the link between the captured zombie and its necromantic master.

  One red dragon and his cavalrymen had fallen to the giant’s spear. Of the infiltration force that had parachuted in, only Private Shaws, Wizard Seelain, Enchanter Jonas, Corporal Brines and I survived. Still, Prince Reveron called our mission a success.

  They’d carried me to the same room in the palace where I’d slept before. A new boar spear rested against the wall near the bed. Its polished tip flickered in the light shed by the single oil lamp. My sword, armor and other equipment either hung from hooks on a pole stand or rested on the table.

  The room felt cold despite the wool blanket and plush down quilt. I was too weak to move and sweat dampened my forehead, and my chest ached again.

  Road Toad knocked and announced himself before entering. Two servants carrying a litter followed. Road Toad lit a second oil lamp while the two servants, dressed in gray linen shirts and brown breeches stood along the wall, awaiting instructions.

  Road Toad carried the lamp to my bed. He noted the perspiration beads on my head. “So, the sorcerer’s magic is getting the better of you after all.” He pulled back the blankets. “Fetch some warm water and towels,” he said to the first servant. To the second he added, “And you, fetch a mug of warm broth.”

  After they left, Road Toad closed the door and slid the small bar in place, securing it. He pulled the room’s single chair up to my bed before covering me back up. “Prince Reveron has secured the services of Priestess Ishola, the healer who fixed your broken arm.” He sat down, leaning toward me. “Remember her?”

  I nodded, recalling the fight outside her pavilion. And her distain for Prince Reveron. She was a powerful healer who served Fendra Jolain.

  Road Toad guessed my concern. “She will not discover your secret. That is why I said a goblin shaman had used his magic on you.” He crossed his arms. “Only Private Shaws knows, and he gave his word.”