“Together?” suggested Tammy.
“Together,” agreed Kovac, hefting his sword. “On three.”
“Three,” said Tammy and they both charged at the mercenary.
As the sounds of violence drifted down to his ears Kai moved towards the disturbance while the other priests shied away. Far above his head people were screaming and fighting for their lives. Kai closed his eyes and smiled at the chaos and rich surge of dark emotions flooding his senses.
He could smell fresh blood in the air but the delicious bouquet was soured by a bitter and familiar tang. It came from whatever creature had sucked all of the life and joy from this once-thriving city. A piece of its essence infused every one of its people. He could feel it now, which meant there were Forsaken inside the building.
The sound of heavy feet moving away down the corridor drew his attention. The intruder stank worse than if he’d been soaked in vinegar and sprayed with shit. There was also something unusual about this Forsaken.
Kai followed the man at a distance into the most secluded part of the winery. At first he thought the Forsaken was heading towards the caves but he stopped near to the first of the deep wells. The fighting on the wall must have been intense for one of them to make it all the way down here. Kai was curious about why they would mount such an attack, just so that one man could make it all this way. He slowly drew closer, observing the man and waiting to see what he did next.
Judging by his armour and weapons, which looked better than most, he was a former mercenary. Kai extended his senses towards the man and picked up some of his surface thoughts. The dream of riches and a quiet life spent idling in luxury were still there in the back of his mind, but now all he cared about was his mission. The man’s thoughts were jumbled for the most part, but they seemed to be completely his own. Kai felt a vague presence of the other, whatever piece of the creature he carried inside, but it seemed asleep.
The former mercenary dropped his weapons and started to pull off his armour, casually throwing it away. Next he opened his shirt, exposing his chest, and closed his eyes, tilting his head back with his mouth open wide.
Something moved under the skin of the man’s stomach. Kai saw several strands probing and pushing outwards, perhaps testing how pliable the skin was without ripping it. The tendrils settled and then the man’s whole stomach and chest started to swell outwards as if he were being filled with too much air.
The skin stretched and then began to rip in places. The man tried to scream but his voice was muffled, as if there were something lodged in his throat. A faint wisp of something green drifted up from the Forsaken’s gaping mouth and he choked, creating another fetid cloud. Shuffling slowly to one side he inched towards the well.
The creature’s plan was ingenious in its simplicity. Trying to capture all of the local people one at a time was proving difficult. They fought back. They died and they beheaded those already turned. Its numbers never increased significantly because the humans refused to accept the gifts it offered. This way, whatever was gestating inside the mercenary would soon escape and poison the water. Over the next few days it would infect everyone and probably incapacitate them. Then it would be easy to take all of them at once without the need for violence.
It was devious and ruthless and exactly what Kai would have done.
With his eyes on the ceiling the Forsaken didn’t see the plague priest approach, but he felt the dagger taken from his belt as it entered his groin. The man’s head snapped down and his mouth clamped shut as blood began to pour down his leg. With claw-like hands the man lurched towards Kai and tried to rake his eyes. Kai tried to bat the man’s hands away as he waited for the inevitable, but when that didn’t happen fast enough he sliced off a few fingers.
He danced back, careful not to get the dagger anywhere near the bloated man’s torso. The slightest cut and whatever was festering inside could be released. As the man’s lifeblood drained from the artery in his leg his attacks became less aggressive, until Kai barely needed to move to evade them. Realisation dawned on the man, and the parasite within him, as he turned from Kai and staggered towards the well on shaky legs.
“I don’t think so,” said Kai. He kicked the man in the side of one knee and a meaty crack echoed around the cave. With a scream the Forsaken toppled over, falling hard onto his left side. In a normal human it would have been over, but only a few seconds later the man hauled himself onto his belly. Dragging himself forward with his shattered leg dangling behind, he continued to inch across the floor, leaving a growing trail of blood in his wake.
Kai easily kept pace with the dying man, looking down on him, the dagger held loosely in one hand. The Forsaken managed to make it to the base of the well but his six remaining fingers weren’t strong enough to pull him up the stones. He continued to claw at the wall until the nails were ripped off and his finger-ends were bloody.
Finally the death of the body caught up with whatever urged it forward as the man’s hands stopped moving. Kai sat down beside the corpse, closed its eyes and laid a hand on its shoulder. When someone eventually stumbled across the tableau they would think he was praying for the man and offering some final words for his recently departed soul. In reality, direct skin contact allowed him to look deeper into the dead man and study the parasite.
The meat was completely dead, but deep inside there was a faint spark of something that could be described as life. Even as the flesh cooled and the blood congealed he could feel it slowly reaching out and probing the limits of the damage to its vessel. The Morrin always insisted on cutting off the head and now he could see why. Eventually, if left unattended, the parasite would regenerate the damaged tissue until the only essence that animated the body was its own. It would utilise the memories and skills of its meat puppet, but the person it wore would be gone. The mercenary had died the moment his heart stopped beating, but the parasite didn’t need him, only his flesh.
Pushing the dagger deep into one of the man’s eye sockets Kai scrambled the cooling brain. Although the man’s flesh didn’t move he felt a subtle shift inside and a spasm of shock ran through the creature. Without a brain to move it around the body was useless and soon the parasite would die. Once that happened perhaps he could find a way to take the body somewhere private and cut out the parasite to study it in more detail.
The sound of heavy footsteps and loud breathing reached him long before Tammy and a mercenary came skidding into view. They stared at the dead man and then the bloody dagger in his hand. A hundred questions were on their lips but he answered the most important one.
“He was going to poison the well,” said Kai. “I had to stop him.”
While the mercenary seemed appeased by his answer the big Seve just stared at him. She was better at concealing her emotions than others but Kai could see the distrust. He looked away, knelt beside the corpse and bowed his head.
“I will stay here and pray for him. He was human once.” It sounded like something a priest would say at this moment. He could sense Tammy’s continued suspicion and knew she would not stay silent forever.
“We need to get back to the wall,” said the mercenary.
“We’ll send someone to take care of the body,” said Tammy. Kai nodded and continued to pretend he was praying over the dead man. The pair’s footsteps receded and he heard them race back along the corridor and then up the stairs.
The sounds of chaos filtering down from above were beginning to fade. The fight was nearly over. He was almost out of time.
Turning back to the corpse Kai flipped the body over onto its back. Plunging the dagger into the man’s chest he sliced open the flesh, pulled the wound wide with both hands and rooted around inside for the parasite.
By the time Tammy made it back into the courtyard the fight was almost finished. The defenders heavily outnumbered any Forsaken in sight and were now working in pairs to take them down. What the local people lacked in skill they certainly made up for in heart as they battered and beat their en
emy to the floor.
Several injured people were lying on the ground, and a few more had been knocked unconscious, but they were being tended to by the priests. Under the direction of Alyssa the injured were carried into the main building.
As Tammy made it to the top of the stairs she saw something in the street that made everyone on the wall spontaneously cheer. The Forsaken were retreating. Many were running and others dragging themselves and the wounded away.
“We need to stop them,” said Zannah. “Otherwise they’ll just come back again when they’re healed.”
“There could be more waiting for us,” warned Balfruss, using a strip of cloth to clean the gore off his axe. He had blood spattered across his face and clothes but either he hadn’t noticed or didn’t care. All of his attention was focused on the axe.
“He’s right,” said Tammy.
“I could go after them,” suggested Zannah.
“No,” said Alyssa, coming up the stairs. “The fighting is done for tonight. Now it’s time to celebrate our victory.”
Zannah ground her teeth but said nothing. She looked down the wall and, following her gaze, Tammy saw that the local people looked happy. They had stood their ground and won. For the first time in years the people of Voechenka had faced an invading enemy and driven them back.
“Don’t rob them of this,” whispered Alyssa. “We both know tomorrow night will be worse.”
“As you wish,” said Zannah. “But I will finish those left behind.”
This time when the Morrin went over the wall to behead the injured Forsaken, Tammy noticed the defenders didn’t look away. Their smiles stayed in place despite the horrors they had just witnessed.
Just as Zannah made it back to the top of the wall, and the first bottles of wine were being passed around, a sound reached Tammy’s ears. It took a few seconds for the others to hear but gradually the sounds of merriment faded until silence gripped the camp again.
It didn’t take long before the others heard it as well. People were screaming and fire blossomed on the horizon as another base was attacked by the Forsaken.
CHAPTER 30
While some of the soldiers were getting annoyed or complaining about the snow, Tom couldn’t stop grinning. The last few years had fallen away and once more he was sat around a campfire with his old friend Hargo. Even when a trickle of snow ran down the back of his neck, it couldn’t dampen his spirits. He shifted closer to the fire, warming his feet, and sipped his mug of tea.
Captain Rees had been delighted when Tom and two hundred Seve warriors showed up at his garrison. His men had too much ground to cover and they were already exhausted from trying to hold the line. Vargus had not given him many details about what was trying to escape from Voechenka, but Rees held nothing back. The Forsaken sounded horrific and Tom could see why Vargus had called on him for help. He wondered if Vargus had known he would find an old friend among the crowd of Seve warriors.
In the light of the sputtering campfire Tom studied Hargo’s battered face. He had a few more scars, a few more lines around the eyes, but little else had changed. When he’d thought of asking the Brotherhood for help, he’d never imagined that he would meet someone from his old life.
“What happened?” asked Tom, stirring Hargo from his doze. “Where did you go after the war?”
“Home,” said Hargo, sounding wistful. “Thought I could settle back into my old life in Tyrnon. Zera welcomed me back as well. It was good.”
“What changed?”
“Me. After all that I’d seen, good and bad, I couldn’t go back to sitting idle. Zera said I’d done my part and that others would take their turn.” Hargo forced a smile, trying to pretend that it didn’t hurt, but they both knew different.
Tom had felt much the same. The idea of raising cattle and following in his father’s footsteps hadn’t appealed to him much before the war. Afterwards, it was the last thing he wanted.
“There was no going back, not after what we’d seen,” he said aloud and Hargo nodded.
“I tried, but in the end I had to leave. It was making us both miserable.” Hargo wiped at his face and Tom pretended the big man was brushing snow out of his eyes. “I travelled for a bit, working here and there, but in the end I came back to the Queen’s army. I’m home with the Brotherhood,” he said, gesturing at the surrounding campfires. “Look at you, though,” said Hargo. “From rich boy to royalty.”
It was Tom’s turn to force a smile. At first it had felt like the worst kind of trap. He’d ignored letters from his father for years, but when a summons came from the palace he couldn’t refuse. Tom had done his best to distance himself from his family name and all of the responsibilities that came with it. But there were some duties that went beyond those to his family.
Alliances were made and deals struck between his father and other Lords in the south of Seveldrom. In return, the country remained well fed and well supplied with leather for armour, and the Queen got herself a husband.
To say that their first meeting had gone badly would be putting it mildly. Over time they’d grown close, but it had taken a long while before they found anything in common.
“I can honestly say I never imagined I’d be here,” said Tom, scratching at his stubble. He’d have to shave the beard before he got back home. She wasn’t fond of facial hair.
“Rider coming in,” said someone to Tom’s left. Thoughts of his wife and son were pushed away as Tom drew his sword. All around him warriors were pulling on helmets and strapping on shields.
“What’s happening?” asked Tom. It felt peculiar not knowing what was going on. He’d grown used to being among the decision makers but now he was back on the front line. The information would come in time, but first there would be orders that he and the others would be expected to follow without question. It was both irritating and a relief to have someone else making the decisions.
“Kasha, on Tom’s left,” said Hargo, to a scarred redhead. She grunted and picked up her battle-axe, a vicious-looking weapon with two blades. “I’m on his right. You two, stay back unless you’re needed. You’re not part of the Brotherhood.”
The royal guards didn’t like him fighting alongside the others but Tom had insisted. He wasn’t in any immediate danger and was also surrounded by two hundred veterans. No one knew he was there and the Forsaken would have no reason to target him specifically. Now all he had to worry about was getting killed at random or because he did something stupid. The royal guards were there, just in case, to save him from himself.
Captain Rees himself approached Tom, looking more worried than usual. “Rider spotted a large group of men and women moving this way. Maybe a hundred.”
“Are they Forsaken or refugees?” asked Tom.
“They’re all armed, and there’s something wrong with their faces. It’s them.”
“Have they ever done this before?”
“No.”
“Then why now?”
“They must be desperate. Or something has changed in the city. Get ready.” Captain Rees moved away without another word and the story was spread from one squad to the next.
The snow continued to drift down, making it difficult to see more than a dozen paces in every direction. Tom could just about make out blurry spots of colour where fires were burning in the distance.
“Everyone grab a torch,” said Hargo. Each warrior took a flaming branch from the fire, which they held aloft, trying to drive back the gloom and see the enemy before they were too close.
Dozens of shadowy figures appeared ahead, shuffling forward with a peculiar gait. When they stepped into the light from the torches they stopped. In the gloom Tom could just make out their surprised expressions. Instead of a handful of tired warriors from Shael they were facing two hundred grizzled Seves. Captain Rees was right about there being something wrong with their faces. The skin was purple in places as if bruised, and black veins pulsed beneath the surface. It didn’t matter. Vargus had told Tom he had to stop them es
caping from Voechenka and that’s what he would do.
“All right, let’s see what colour these fuckers bleed!” said Hargo, raising his shield. With a mighty roar he led the charge and Tom added his voice to the din as he raced towards the enemy.
Strong as they’d been, possessed by whatever dark magic or devilry, the Forsaken had died like any other. Outnumbered two to one they’d fought like cornered rats but in the end it made no difference.
Tom managed not to do anything stupid, like getting himself killed. He’d even managed to kill two of the Forsaken, with some help from Hargo. In the aftermath of the fight he experienced a sense of belonging he’d not felt in years since the war. As he shared a smile with those around him Tom could see why the big man felt at home in such company. He felt it too, the bond between them, and yet his first thought was when he’d next see his wife and son.
He’d changed more than he realised. Hargo was right. You couldn’t go back.
Under strict orders from Captain Rees the bodies were beheaded and then piled up, soaked in oil and burned. Thankfully the wind was blowing away from where Tom and the others made camp, tending their wounds and cleaning weapons. As he shared a skin of ale with Hargo and others around the campfire, Tom glanced over his shoulder into the hazy snow.
He didn’t expect to see anyone out there and was surprised when a single figure emerged from the shadows. A shout built up in his throat until he saw the man’s face. Vargus smiled then raised his hand in farewell before disappearing into the falling snow.
“Do you think they’ll come back?” asked Hargo.
“No, I think our work here is done,” said Tom, feeling confident that the Brotherhood was no longer needed in Voechenka. He considered telling the big man about Vargus but quickly changed his mind. The Brotherhood was doing just fine without him and Tom knew they would always be there if he needed them again.
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