by D A Godwin
“We must wait,” Sister Kayala replied firmly, though she appeared unsettled. “The enemy respects no conventions for our safety and we cannot lose more of our own or others will suffer.”
“Can we do nothing?” Enna asked, her hand on her symbol. “If we were to move closer…”
Shalindra saw another of the command group cut down. It was surreal. This could not be happening. After all they had been through to get here she couldn’t stand idly by and watch her cousin be killed.
She looked at Tormjere. Knowing her intentions as if they were his own, he was already moving.
She began to follow but was stopped by a gentle hand on her shoulder, and turned to see Enna’s green eyes regarding her fearfully.
“Keep them safe,” Shalindra said to her, and then whirled and ran after Tormjere.
Together, they circled behind the reserve company, Tormjere only a step ahead of her. He passed by men he could have helped or even saved and fought only those who were in their way. There was no fine swordplay, no fancy ripostes. He cut low beneath shields, severing legs and sending men screaming to the ground, hacking through mail and leather with equal ease.
He killed a spearman who was attempting to reach Shalindra and turned back just in time to see a spiked mace swinging towards his head.
I have it.
Hoping that she had thought it and was correct, he ignored the weapon and drove straight at the man swinging it. The glee in the enemy soldier’s eyes at Tormjere’s apparent mistake turned to terror as his weapon crashed against Shalindra’s silver barrier and Tormjere’s blade sliced across his stomach.
Shalindra’s white robes seemed a beacon that attracted both friend and foe alike. Soon other Kingdom soldiers were fighting alongside them as they fought towards Edward. Three men had locked shields together in front of Tormjere and were now plowing their way forward like a giant ram. One of the shieldmen fell, but another took his place just as quickly. The momentum of the group carried Shalindra forward before she could even think to heal him.
Then suddenly a path opened. She sprinted the final distance up the hill with Tormjere at her side, and the Legion ranks parted to allow them through.
“What are you doing here?” Edward shouted as he caught sight of her. “You were to remain where it’s safe!”
Shalindra chose not to respond, because she had no explanation. Instead she dropped to her knees beside a fallen knight who lay writhing on the ground. She took his helmeted head in her hands and pulled it around, searching for the man’s eyes through the narrow slits of his armor. Feeling his wounds, she called upon her goddess. Silvery energy flowed down her arms, closing the wound rapidly.
When she looked up, Tormjere and Edward both stood protectively over her with swords at the ready.
A mighty shout carried up the hill as Kingdom forces rallied to throw back the Ceringions. Their forward line was sealing the gaps and reclaiming the ditch line, and now it was the Ceringions who were trapped.
Shalindra was helping a soldier who had lost his hand when a stout man with the beard of a dwarf shoved his way through to Edward.
“There is weakness in their left flank, my lord,” he said.
“Because our right was even weaker, Argus.”
“We’ve enough of the horse left to punch through to their archers. It might take their mind off exploiting the breach further.”
Edward looked where Argus pointed, and hesitated only a moment before shouting down the hill. “Captain Farrell! Take anyone on horse to the weak point on their left and rid us of those archers!”
The knight saluted and rode off to execute the attack.
Edward saw Argus staring at Shalindra as she scrambled towards another wounded man.
“Get back with the others!” Edward said forcefully, taking her by the arm and dragging her to her feet. “They could send—”
“It’s already here,” Tormjere said, looking past his shoulder.
Nightmares We Know
Shalindra spun as a hissing roar carried above the chaos. A brute of a creature, half-again as tall as anyone on the field and twice as wide, stalked towards the Kingdom lines. Although it had two arms and walked on two legs, any similarity to a man ended there. Dull, leathery, reddish-brown scales covered its entire body, lending it a reptilian appearance. Atop its thick neck sat an equally thick saurian head with slits where a nose should be. Claws the size of daggers tipped the fingers of each hand, and its powerful legs ended in massive, cloven hooves instead of feet. Glassy, red eyes stared unblinking from beneath the heavy ridge of its forehead.
Its gaze settled on the hill where they stood, and it broke into a lumbering run. Its mouth opened eagerly, revealing rows of fine, sharp teeth.
Ceringions scrambled from its path, just as surprised as the defenders and desperate to avoid being trampled. Archers shifted their aim to it, but their arrows bounced harmlessly off its thick hide.
It scrambled through the ditch and over the berm without slowing, advancing inexorably closer. Spears failed to penetrate and shields offered no protection from the clawed hands that tore men apart with blinding speed.
“It comes for us again!” Argus shouted to Edward.
Shalindra stood rooted in place, watching in a detached way as it slaughtered everyone before it. Was this the same demon that had killed her uncle? The Legion tightened its ranks in front of Edward, determined to defend their charge. Why wasn't Edward running? They all needed to run, to flee from the monstrosity that approached.
She clutched her symbol, now burning with an intensity unlike anything she had ever felt. Gripped with sudden determination, she ran forward, forcing her way through the shield wall to place herself directly in the demon’s path. Planting her feet firmly, she tore the symbol from her neck and raised it in a clenched fist.
“No!” Deurmark shouted, starting after her.
Argus shoved him unceremoniously back. “We can afford no more losses in leadership! If you fall, the field is lost!”
The corners of the demon’s mouth curled into a wicked grin when it caught sight of Shalindra standing alone. Its red eyes burned with anticipation as they locked onto hers, and it stomped towards her.
Shalindra’s vision dimmed as darkness surged unexpectedly around her. Like a rope, it wound tightly around her head, smothering her resolve and filling her with doubt. She clutched at her temples and took a faltering step back.
The battlefield dropped away, plunging into an inky blackness. A tiny point of light replaced the sun in an empty sky.
Come back.
She grasped at Tormjere’s words like a lifeline, using them to pull herself higher. The sucking force that wrapped her ankles grew tighter, unwilling to release her.
Mistress aid me!
The light above her head surged in a blinding flash, burning the darkness to ash, and… the battlefield snapped back into focus. She staggered backwards as the demon loomed large above her.
Then Tormjere was there, throwing himself at the creature without reservation. She felt his strength in her mind, a calming, solid reassurance. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the last vestiges of darkness away.
The demon swatted absently at Tormjere, its attention still focused on Shalindra. He ducked the blow and slashed at the demon’s leg. His blade cut through the thick skin cleanly, spilling black blood onto the ground.
The demon hissed in pain and lashed out.
Shalindra brought her symbol up, and the demon’s claws came to a sudden stop in a shower of silver sparks a hands-breadth from Tormjere’s head.
His sword nicked the demon’s arm as he dodged away.
Hissing and snarling, it was on him in an instant. Shalindra shielded him from one blow, but the next came too quickly. The demon batted aside his sword and smashed a huge fist into his side.
His pain exploded in her mind as if it was her own. It was like being hit by a boulder. The snap of his bones breaking was audible as he flew backwards. He hit the groun
d hard enough to break something else, and her sense of him dimmed as he struggled to breathe.
Hold still.
Can’t…
Let me in. I need you here.
He did, somehow. There was so much damage, mixed with the feeling of trampled grass and a taste of dirt and blood. She felt every injury and rushed to repair it as quickly as she could.
The demon took a step to the side and killed a group of spearmen that had gotten too close, then charged at her again. Its fist smashed into her invisible barrier, leaving a shower of silver sparks to mark the collision. Shalindra winced but stood firm.
Furious, it rained a flurry of blows down on her. She lost awareness of the battlefield around her as she focused on the demon’s flailing arms. Shalindra was forced backwards, slowly retreated up the hill and praying that Eluria’s defense would not fail. She had to keep its attention on her, until…
Tormjere swung with all his strength, cutting deep across the demon’s back. It threw back its head and howled in pain.
She took her opportunity. Calling upon the might of Eluria, her symbol swung down. The silvery force that had protected her became as hard as a hammer, slamming into the creature and driving it to its knees. Tormjere’s sword hacked across its face, cutting a line from one nose slit to the other.
It kicked out at her, but when its hooved foot stopped at her shield, the creature pushed against it, using the leverage to launch itself away, rolling past Tormjere before he could strike and continuing down the hill towards the berm.
I want it dead.
Shalindra didn’t know if she had thought it or he had.
The wounded demon hesitated as spearmen descended on it from all sides. The weapons did little damage until one found its way into an open wound. The demon shot forward in pain, bowling over the soldiers before it.
Tormjere was in front of it again, allowing the demon no time to decide its next move. It was ready for him, raking its claws towards his face. She deflected the strike upwards this time, and Tormjere’s sword bit deep into its forearm. He brought his blade slashing down across its leg.
Badly weakened now, the creature tried to rush through him, but its injured legs buckled and it stumbled to its knees, falling toward him. Tormjere planted his feet and drove his blade deep up into the demon’s stomach, letting the collapsing creature’s weight do most of the work. It fell, nearly crushing him, then shoved him aside and staggered to its feet. Disoriented and with his blade still protruding from its belly, it lurched back towards Shalindra.
She stood tall, her symbol held high in a tightly clenched fist. Terror flashed across the demon’s reptilian features as it struggled to back away from her, but it was too late. Her symbol swung down as she willed the heat within it towards the creature. A shimmering silver flash, blinding even in the full sunlight, clove the demon’s head nearly in two. The ruined creature collapsed in a heap, sending dirt flying.
Tormjere scrambled on top of it, frantically trying to recover his sword before the Ceringions attacked again.
The instant his hand seized the hilt, time came to a jarring stop. Soldiers on the battlefield stood like statues and arrows hung in the sky like they had been painted there. Silence couldn’t quite describe the sudden and complete absence of noise.
His vision shifted, and a reddish haze around the demon came into focus. Like a shimmer of heat above rocks in the summer sun, it drifted up, carrying aloft little sparks that winked out as they slowly burned to nothingness.
Seized by a sudden urge to possess them, he inhaled deeply, drawing both mist and sparks towards him as a priest might breathe incense during a foretelling. It burned down his throat before settling like a hot ember in his stomach. His body tried to reject it, but he squeezed against it, and the burning ember was forced evenly throughout his body. It made his skin itch, even as his senses surged with an intoxicating feeling of strength.
The battlefield snapped back to normal. He yanked his sword free of the creature and regarded it with wonder. A few steps away, Shalindra stood staring similarly wide-eyed at her symbol of Eluria.
Someone nearby died with a messy scream, reminding Tormjere that they were still very much in danger. His head swimming from the new sensations swirling through him, he scrambled back to Shalindra.
“Order them forward,” Tormjere whispered urgently.
Shalindra looked at him in confusion.
“Here and now, these men are yours to command,” he insisted. “Do it while we have the advantage.”
She looked around, and realized that everyone, friend and foe alike, was staring at her. Already scattered fighting was resuming. Tormjere was right: she must act. Shalindra raised her symbol high.
“Have at them!” she cried.
“For the Kingdom!” Tormjere shouted in response, thrusting his sword in the same direction and charging at the startled Ceringions.
The call was echoed down the line as Kingdom forces rallied.
Tormjere aborted his charge as Kingdom soldiers outpaced him, and he returned to her side.
“Have at them?”
She gave him a meek little shrug. “It worked, did it not?”
Tormjere just chuckled and shook his head, then winced in pain. “I think you missed a rib.”
“I was busy,” she replied dryly. “And you were supposed to hold still.” She pressed her hand to his side and locked her eyes on his. White-hot pain shot through him as his bones set themselves in place, followed by the familiar soothing warmth as she repaired the damage.
Shalindra’s knees buckled and her head spun from the effort. She placed a hand on his arm to keep from falling as a crushing weariness settled about her shoulders.
“We need to get you away from here,” he said, shepherding her back up the hill.
She leaned close to him and lowered her voice. “That was dangerous.”
“Exactly what part of that wasn’t dangerous?” he asked, rubbing his newly restored side.
“That… stuff you took from it when it was dead.”
“You saw that? I thought you meant the part where I gallantly threw myself between you and our recently departed friend there.”
“That was most noble of you.” She turned serious again. “But that was a foul creature, and what you did makes me nervous for reasons I cannot name.”
He started to be flippant with his response but stopped. “I don’t even know why I did it, and hope it never happens again.”
An itch tingled at his back, and he turned to survey the battlefield. Amidst the swirl of men and dirt on the other side of the trench, one figure stood unmoving. He wasn’t dressed in robes, but something about the way he carried himself reminded Tormjere of Felzig. Neatly trimmed and slender, the man glared at them coldly with a hatred that was palpable, even at this distance.
Edward came rushing forward.
Legion guards rushed down the hill to form a perimeter around them, cutting off his view. Edward came rushing to them, sword still in hand.
He stopped before Shalindra and regarded her in amazement. “You said you had changed, but… how?”
Argus came running to Edward’s side, forestalling her answer. “We’ve taken back the field but dare not over pursue.”
Edward returned his attention to the retreating Ceringions. “Well done. Have Pratchett’s company hold the hill there, and consolidate the archers behind them. All other companies are to return and maintain position.”
“What of this thing?” Argus asked, wrinkling his nose at the demon’s corpse. “It fouls the very ground around it.”
Already it was beginning to emit a foul, acrid stench that made one’s eyes water.
Shouts of “burn it” and “leave it to rot” came somewhat timidly from the surrounding soldiers, but no one approached.
Have them cut the demon apart.
That is disgusting. Why?
They need the victory.
“My lord,” Shalindra said, “may I suggest that we c
ut it into pieces?” Her voice grew louder, to carry above the whispers. “Let every man here strike a blow against it, so that all may celebrate the victory.”
A cheer went up, and Edward nodded. “A solid idea—they would enjoy that.” He turned to Argus. “See that it’s done, and toss the pieces in the ditch. We’ll see how many of Gymerius’s hired swords will want to fight through it tomorrow.”
Argus bowed his head to her. “My lady, you prove as wise as you are strong.”
Shalindra blushed.
“I should return to my duties now, my lord,” she said to Edward, eager to be away from the battlefield.
“You look to be in need more than your patients.” Edward respectfully bowed his head before turning to Tormjere. “See her to safety, then join us at my tent.”
“Yes, my lord,” Tormjere answered.
“What happened to Kayala?” she asked him.
“I saw them returning towards the barn.”
“Then we will go there. I need to speak to her about…” She shook her head helplessly, at a loss to describe what had happened.
Shalindra desperately wanted a moment’s peace, but as they made their way towards the hospital both became aware of the whispered conversations that followed them. Men stopped and stared. Some pointed, a few bowed. The attention was terrifying.
They are all talking about us.
Are you surprised?
What if…
We’re beyond that now. You just killed a demon in front of thousands.
I only wished to keep my cousin safe. And you did more than I did.
They aren’t looking at me.
The makeshift hospital was a frenzy of activity. Clerics rushed from one patient to the next. Sobs of pain mixed with cries of terror, and the smell of blood was heavy in the air. When they stepped into the barn, conversation was extinguished like a flame doused in water. Sister Kayala appraised them coolly.
She doesn’t like me. I’ll be back as soon as I finish with your cousin.
Shalindra suppressed a grin. So, you will face a demon but not a room full of women?
His rapid exit was answer enough.