Blood Rain

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Blood Rain Page 14

by Helix Parker


  “Oh,” the man in the mask said. “You are still alive, witch. I had thought you dead ages ago. The surprises we see if we live long enough.”

  “Let him live, Erebos. I need him.”

  “Which begs the question: Why do I need you?”

  “You know why you need me. None of your trained dogs can be as powerful an ally as I.”

  “Twenty years ago, perhaps. But now you are an old woman who could not even defeat a band of my dogs.”

  “Couldn’t I?”

  Edgar looked around. The Marauders who had been attacking Naspen appeared weakened. They were trembling, and some even had blood trickling out of their noses and over their lips. One man collapsed, twitched a bit, then went still.

  “An interesting trick,” Erebos said. He gently placed his hand on Edgar’s shoulder, almost affectionately. “Perhaps you have a few uses still.” He turned to Rodrick. “Put her in my tent and tie up the dwarf outside.”

  As they were led away, Naspen whispered to him, “Stay calm and do not stare any Marauder directly in the eyes. They view it as an invitation to fight.”

  Edgar glanced back at Erebos. The man—if he was a man—was tall and so vicious looking that even the Marauders appeared terrified in his presence. Edgar suddenly doubted that Naspen knew what she was doing. He would, no doubt, die in that place.

  43

  Estra watched the Marauders from a tower. He saw a bird, possibly a field hawk, circling. But the hawk wouldn’t need mice that night. After the fires died down, the crows, hawks, and wolves would come in droves for the corpses. In addition to the mountain of dead in front of the gates, the surrounding fields were littered with bodies.

  Estra deftly climbed down and moved across the lower rooftops. He went to the forum where the senate had gathered for an emergency conference. The building was nothing more than an arched dome with pillars of fine white marble swirled with gold. In front hung the flag of Dolane: a crimson rectangle with gold trim, a ship and a spear emblazoned across it.

  He went around to the back of the forum where there were more crevices for his fingers and feet. He climbed to the top of the dome and slowly made his way across it. At the very apex was an opening wide enough to fit a small wagon through it. He sat down at the edge and let his feet dangle while he watched the men in colorful robes debate.

  “We must surrender,” an older man in a pink robe said. “They want our gold and silver, and I say give it to them.”

  “They don’t want gold and silver,” a purple-robed man argued. “They want slaves. That’s how these savages survive. They kill and rape while the slaves do all the labor.”

  The gaunt, bald man at the head of the group wore a crimson robe the color of the flag. A gold leaf band encircled his head. “They don’t want that. If that’s all they wanted, they would have sat for bargaining and asked for payment. Reasonable men would have saved blood in exchange for payment up front, even if it were less than what they would make otherwise. These are not reasonable men.”

  “Then what do they want?” Pink Robe asked.

  “I don’t know. We need to find out. We need to send an emissary to discuss terms.”

  Purple Robe shook his head. “You saw what they did to the last emissary.”

  “We must try again. I have sent word to the king via ship and asked for protection. But it’s five days’ march from the capital. We won’t last two.”

  A younger man in a white tunic said, “No one has ever breached our walls.”

  “They’re not going to breach our walls,” Gold Leaves said. “They’re going to go over them.”

  Estra and Quell sat on the roof of a home near the sea and watched the ships leave from the port. The night air was cool, and guards patrolled towers and parapets. All citizens had been ordered to remain in their homes, but no one had bothered to say anything to Estra.

  “I wish I was rich,” Quell said. “Then I would leave too.”

  “Maybe we can board without anyone knowing.”

  “No, there are guards stationed on the ships. Many guards.” Quell smirked. “They defend from the poor more diligently than they do from the attackers.” He paused. “Who are those men, Estra?”

  “I know they’re called Marauders, but I’m not sure they are men. I saw them eating the dead. They were enjoying it. As though it were the tastiest meal in the world.”

  “They’re going to kill us, aren’t they?”

  “I heard one of the senators say that no one has ever breached our walls. And even if they do, our army is much larger than theirs.”

  “I want to leave. I want to go right now, Estra.”

  “I know. I do too. But we must—”

  Something fell from the sky onto the roof, which collapsed from the impact. Estra dropped with the wave of wood and landed on his back. One large piece slammed into his chest, but he managed to roll away before another nearly crushed his head. Splintered chunks cut into his skin when he moved across the floor.

  Crawling away, he saw a man and a woman, probably the owners. Both were still alive and trying to stand. He searched for Quell and finally found him a few feet away. His friend’s broken and twisted body lay with eyes open and glossy like marbles.

  He looked away and spotted the body of a man, fat and gray with yellowed eyes and open sores. Plague.

  Estra covered his mouth and ran out of the home. As he stepped into the street, he heard another crash. Then, a corpse spattered against a spiraled tower with a wet thud. He screamed when the plague-ridden corpse of a child smashed the head of an elderly man on the side of the road.

  He sprinted down an alley then turned back onto the main street before dashing down another. The thud of corpses hitting rooftops and the cobbled streets filled the air, and he began to weep before running into a home with a solid stone roof. Inside, a family of four was huddled in the corner.

  “I won’t harm you,” he said. “I just need shelter.” He sat down by the door.

  The pounding continued outside as if the gods were throwing rocks down from paradise.

  44

  Rodrick sat outside the tent of his master. The witch was in there with Erebos, and they were speaking in hushed tones. The dwarf sat on the ground and stared blankly into the fire as the snap of cords echoed through the air. The catapults were at full fury. Corpses flew over the city like flocks of birds, and it would have made Rodrick smile if he hadn’t been so apprehensive.

  He had never known his master to show mercy. As far as he knew, Erebos was incapable of it. And yet the witch and dwarf were still alive. Rodrick simply had to believe that they were more useful alive than dead. Because the only other explanation was that his master had grown soft.

  He stared at the tied-up dwarf. “This witch, she has great power?”

  The dwarf answered without looking up from the fire. “I’ve seen her do things I can’t explain.”

  Rodrick snorted. “My master once ripped the brains out of a man through his nose using two fingers. I can’t explain that either, but I wouldn’t call it magik.”

  “Your master is a man, like any other. Just as the witch is a woman. They both can bleed, and if they can bleed, they can die.”

  “And what of you, dwarf? Do you die just as easily?”

  The dwarf raised his head.

  “Wait,” Rodrick said. “I know you. I knew that I knew you, dwarf. I knew it.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “Oh, yes, I do.” Roderick stood and walked over to the little man. He bent over to get a better look at the man’s features. “The house collapsed on top of you. I thought you would die there.”

  The dwarf’s eyes went wide. “You!”

  Rodrick laughed. “Yes. Me.” He straightened and smiled. “So tell me, dwarf, what will you do? I helped kill every man, woman, and child in your village, and here you are—my prisoner.” His smile disappeared. “So that’s why you are here? You weren’t traveling to Dolane. You’re here for…” He snickered. �
�Vengeance? A dwarf is here to take vengeance on General Rodrick of the Marauders.”

  Rodrick went back to his seat, chuckling. “So tell me, halfling, has it worked out as you had planned?” He broke into another bout of laughter.

  “Not really,” the dwarf replied.

  Rodrick got his humor under control. “I didn’t think your people had it in you. A single dwarf and an old woman come to face an entire Marauder horde, the largest ever assembled. Very brave and very stupid. I’m impressed, dwarf. So much so that I will let you live should you not be under my master’s protection any longer.”

  “How delightful.”

  The flaps of the tent opened, and Erebos stepped out with the witch behind him.

  “Lord Rodrick, once the corpses are emptied into the city, gather all your men and invade. Kill everyone. I do not wish for any prisoners.”

  “Master,” Roderick said, kneeling, “the walls are twenty feet high. I’m certain that if we wait until morning—”

  “Your predecessor once questioned me, General. He is no longer your predecessor.”

  “Y-yes, master. I understand completely. But how will we overcome the walls?”

  “You’ve built mountains,” Erebos replied in his strangely echoing voice, “and yet you see only ant hills.”

  Rodrick looked over at the pile of corpses in front of the side gates. They were stacked in a manner that resembled stairs and were wide enough for thirty men to tumble over the walls at once. How could he have been so blind? “My master, forgive me. I did not—”

  “That is the problem with making plans, General. You become blind to new possibilities. A mistake, but not a fatal one. Gather your men. Take out their archers first, as many as you can, and then storm the city. The legions are accustomed to fighting on a battlefield. They are not trained to fight in cities among civilians. You will overwhelm them with your ferocity.”

  “Yes, master. It will be done.”

  Erebos turned his attention to the dwarf. “Brave of you to come, halfling,” he said. “But I’m afraid your journey ends here and now.”

  45

  Riding through the night, Leon realized how little ground he’d actually covered since he had left Naspen and Edgar. He’d spent the first night at an inn, and most of the next day had been wasted there as well. He wondered if he had lingered on purpose.

  In a day, he was in the Forest of Glenn, which opened onto the walls of Dolane and the Great Sea beyond that. He dismounted, tethered his horse to a tree, and walked up a tall hill, crouching at the top. What he saw made his stomach churn: corpses piled as high as houses, men’s bodies on spits roasting over fires, and bloodied, greasy faces of Marauders eating human flesh.

  He watched the valley and saw more Marauders than he had even known existed. Without so much as a whisper, the horde began to move. Arrows flew through the air, penetrating the bodies of guards on the wall. Alarm bells sounded within the city.

  Shrieking, the Marauders ran to the gates and stormed up the hill of bodies. The first few were cut down by Dolanian archers, but they were quickly overwhelmed and the Marauders began spilling into the city.

  Leon looked over the camp. Only a few Marauders had stayed behind. If Naspen and Edgar were alive, that was where they would be. He slipped into the trees and came out on the far side of camp. Scanning the tents, he spotted Edgar chained near the entrance of one. The dwarf was staring absently into a fire.

  Leon sneaked around the back of the tent and checked for any nearby Marauders. Seeing none, he edged over to Edgar.

  “What are you doing here?” Edgar asked excitedly.

  “Shh.” Leon reached for the chains.

  He broke them with the hilt of his sword. He helped Edgar stand then peeked into the tent. His heart dropped, and he froze in place.

  Erebos sat against the back of the tent, sipping something out of a black grail. Next to him, Naspen was speaking.

  “We have to get her out,” Edgar whispered.

  “He’s too powe—”

  Before Leon could finish his words, he noticed an indentation in Erebos’s chest armor where a jewel the size of a fist would fit perfectly. “He took it out,” Leon mumbled.

  “Took what out?”

  Leon crouched low and went around to the back of the tent. He lifted his sword. His knees quaking, he thrust the sword through the cloth tent wall. The blade hit something hard then pushed through into something soft. He heard a groan.

  He pulled down the tent and ran to the entrance. Naspen crawled out, and he helped her to her feet.

  “My lord,” she said. “You should not be here. That was foolish.”

  “What is life about if not making foolish choices?”

  They found some of the Marauders horses and mounted. The few of the horde left behind were too drunk to even notice as they slipped into the forest and were gone.

  46

  Rodrick gathered the horde, which was down to roughly fourteen thousand men, a thousand having fallen to the swords of the Dolanians. A few of the Marauders were too drunk to fight, so he left them behind at the camp. They would be dealt with later.

  His archers began raining arrows down upon the guards on the wall. Three hundred men fell before the bells sounded within the city, letting the legion know that the city was under attack.

  Rodrick roared, lifting his broadsword into the air. The horde bellowed and dashed for the city walls.

  The first legionnaires arrived, and their archers took their places up on the wall. Marauders fell by the dozens to the arrows, but the rest continued storming up the wall of corpses.

  The bodies had stiffened, but some were soft. Rodrick’s foot fell into the open wound in one’s stomach, leaving his boot wet and gory. An arrow narrowly missed his head as it flew past to be embedded into the throat of the Marauder behind him. A legionnaire stood on the parapet and swung an axe at Rodrick’s head. Rodrick ducked then lifted his sword.

  His broadsword split the man’s skull in two, through the helmet, and went into his throat. Rodrick put his foot on the man’s chest and yanked his blade free. He turned and swept his blade across the necks of two legionnaires coming up the stone steps next to the gate, taking off both their heads. He leapt down onto the streets of Dolane.

  Rodrick whistled, and a thousand of his hand-chosen men broke off from the rest and joined him. Three pathways led out from where they were, and though he had studied the design plans a thousand times, Rodrick took them out again. Two of the paths were filled with Marauders battling the legions, and the third was an alley between two houses.

  He led his men in a quick march between the two houses and came out to a side alley. There was only one way to that alley, and they had just crossed it. No legions would be there waiting for them.

  Farther down the alley was a large hole in the ground covered by a stone grating. The sewers of Dolane were among the most advanced in the world. The men lifted the covering and moved it to the side. The stench of feces and putrid water wafted up from the opening. Rodrick jumped down first.

  Estra stayed at the home until the dull thumps outside ceased. He was so exhausted from fear he felt he could sleep right there in the street.

  Estra climbed to the roof of a neighboring house. He had to stop and rest because of a pain in his legs. He had been injured in the fall. He could feel the shock with each step. He lay down on his back and listened to the waves rolling to shore. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine he was anywhere but on the roof of a house in a devastated city.

  A thought struck him, and he rose and ran back to the house where the ceiling had collapsed. He found Quell. He pulled his friend out of the rubble. Knowing it was too late, he still slapped his face and shook him. Quell didn’t wake. He gently covered his body with loose wood and stones, hoping that the Marauders wouldn’t eat his body.

  Warning bells echoed throughout the city. He stood and looked toward the gates. The Marauders were climbing over the wall. They were like monstrous p
raying mantises. Their arms and legs moved, and people died.

  He heard noises below him. He looked over the edge of the roof at the street and saw a sewer grate being pushed aside. The massive stone slid off, and to his horror, men in black began climbing out.

  They formed up and rounded the next corner. Estra followed to see where they were headed. When he saw the garrison and realized the Marauders’ plan, he gasped. Most of the soldiers were still gearing up, oblivious to the monsters sneaking up on them. The bulk of the legions would be trapped between two Marauder groups.

  “No.”

  He tried to run, but pain shot through his legs. He pushed through it and limped as fast as he could. Someone had to warn the legions, or they would be cut down like cattle.

  At the edge of the roof, he leapt for the next house. He missed by a ridiculous length and fell straight down to the street with a thump. He groaned in pain, certain he had broken his arm. He rolled over onto his back. A Marauder stood over him like a nightmare. The black-clad man raised an axe.

  “No! Please. No!”

  The axe came down.

  47

  Erebos crawled out of the collapsed tent, the sword still protruding from his back. He reached for the hilt and pulled. The blade came out with a gush of blood that ran down his legs. He fell to his back and stared up at the night sky. “Come.”

  Cabbott was asleep when he heard noise coming from his laboratory. It sounded as if someone had sneaked in and was tearing the space apart. He dressed quickly and went out into the corridor. He didn’t see the slave he had left on guard. He took the stone steps two at a time and unlocked the massive oak door.

  A hole had been punched through the east wall. The stone vice he had been using to keep the gem in place was shattered, and the gem was gone. He walked to the hole and looked through it.

 

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