Chaos Unchained- The Mad Smith

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Chaos Unchained- The Mad Smith Page 31

by Brock Deskins


  The second rank of archers drew back their bows, but most shafts were aimed at the retreating men, not their attackers. Arrows began falling onto the battlefield, striking friend and foe alike. The wood and iron rain intensified as more archers moved within range.

  Jandar raised his buckler over his head and shouted, “We need to retreat!”

  Saefa matched Jandar stride for stride as they fled the battlefield. Arrows clanked against Jandar’s buckler and off his breastplate. A few managed to pierce the mail covering an arm or shoulder. He ignored the pain and cast Saefa a worried look as he lacked much of the protection he had.

  The Caprian was bleeding from a number of wounds, most of which he had received during their retreat given the angle of the arrows protruding from his body. Jandar could not see Nyx, but knowing her, none of the archers ever laid eyes on her. At least none still alive. She broke from the shadows a minute later, a single arrow sticking out of her shoulder blade.

  They paused only long enough to remove the offending arrows and hastily apply bandages before running after the caravan. Bloody and winded, they found their group’s rear element far sooner than they would have liked. That meant they were moving even slower than Saefa had projected.

  Nyx began leeching mana and health from a group of volunteers who rotated out their numbers until the three heroes were fully healed.

  “Did you see them killing their own people?” Nyx asked.

  Saefa ducked his head. “They knew their fellows had come close enough to contract the disease and shot them down before they could bring it back to the rest of the group. It was a callous action but a smart one.”

  Nyx shook her head in disgust. “It’s not a damn disease. It doesn’t make anyone sick or anything.”

  Saefa cocked his head and gave her a querying look. “You know what this thing is that has our leaders so scared they will slaughter their own people to keep it from spreading?”

  Nyx’s eyes flashed to Jandar before saying, “Not exactly, but we’ve been carrying it for quite a while, and I haven’t seen anyone showing any kind of problem. Not so much as a runny nose.”

  The Caprian stared at her a moment, his face expressionless. “Neither have I. Were it not for Balshamma being able to detect it, I would discount it as a conspiracy cooked up for some unknown nefarious scheme. That is an issue for another time, however. We must focus on the immediate danger. I had hoped we would be moving faster than this.”

  Jandar nodded. “I was concerned when we reached the caravan sooner than we should have. I don’t know if I’ll be able to maintain the dust storm long enough to keep them away until nightfall. Nyx’s mana transferring is a great help, but I don’t think it will be enough. There’s a good chance they’ll be looking to retaliate for the ambush and will try harder to catch us.”

  “I will position what few bowmen we have to help deal with anyone who gets past your storm. Beyond that, I do not know what else we can do but pray Matrice intervenes to protect her people.”

  Jandar raised dust storms throughout the morning, maintaining them for as long as he could before he and the eternity stone were depleted of power. The longest break they could hope for was barely an hour with most only half that before the purge squads gained sight of them once again. It was early afternoon when Jandar felt himself and the stone reaching exhaustion once more.

  “I can keep this storm up for perhaps another five minutes,” Jandar told Saefa, who was spending more time at the rear of the procession. “We have maybe twice as long before they spot us again, and they will certainly get within volley range before I can raise another. With Nyx’s help, I can gather enough mana to throw off two, maybe three volleys, but after that we’re sitting ducks.”

  “Maybe the bard can do something,” Saefa suggested. “I’ll run ahead and speak with him.”

  Lexon had been listening to the fearful mutterings around him while he played, his magical music strengthening and invigorating those around him. It was why he traveled near the front where the young, old, and infirm set the caravan’s pace, a pace he knew would not see them to safety. Not all of them anyway.

  He had been watching the clouds of windblown sand and dust behind them and had a good measure of how long Jandar could keep up the spell. The human grapevine also kept him apprised of how close the enemy was getting, and their near future looked bleak. Darkness was several hours away, and this was probably the last time Jandar would be able to conceal their movement before the soldiers reached them.

  Maybe Jandar and Nyx would come up with another plan to hold them off until nightfall, but he would not gamble his life on a maybe that was unlikely at best. He looked at the people around him, who relied on his music to keep their feet churning. The thought of abandoning them left a bitter taste in his mouth, but if he stayed, he would just die along with them.

  Lexon made up his mind. He jogged toward one of the sand strider outriders.

  “I need to borrow your lizard,” Lexon said as he stared up at the nomad and lightly strummed his harp.

  The man’s scowl was evident in his eyes even with the long strip of cloth wrapped around his head and face. “What for?”

  “Because I need it,” Lexon replied, his fingers dancing across the strings. “Saefa sent me. He wants you to let me use it.”

  The rider blinked, his eyelids feeling unusually heavy. “Saefa sent you for my mount?”

  “He did,” Lexon replied in a soft voice.

  The man slid off the big lizard’s back and handed him the reins. “Be careful with her. If she comes to harm because of your foolishness, you will not live to regret it.”

  Lexon stroked a final cord before taking the reins and climbing into the odd saddle. “Don’t worry. I have no intention of being anywhere near danger.”

  Saefa ran back to Jandar, his breathing was heavy and sweat ran down his face. “The bard is gone.”

  Nyx furrowed her brow. “Gone? Gone where?”

  “I do not know. One of the outriders said he asked for his mount and rode off. He thinks the bard ensorcelled him and is quite furious.”

  “How long ago?” Nyx asked.

  “Perhaps ten or fifteen minutes.”

  Nyx shook her head. “He could be miles away by now.”

  Jandar’s face reddened and he clenched his fists. “I told you he was a coward! If he can find a way, he’ll likely sell us out to whoever is leading Aelim’s assassins in exchange for his own miserable life and a handful of coin.”

  “There has to be another reason,” Nyx insisted.

  Jandar looked back toward the sandstorm and the army concealed behind it. “I doubt it, but it doesn’t matter now. I can’t maintain the spell any longer, and they’ll be in range the moment they catch sight of us.”

  Saefa said, “I’ll gather the remaining riders and use them to force the archers to retreat. Maybe enough of them will live long enough for the others to flee and scatter. Perhaps some of the swifter people can get away.”

  He turned to race back toward the front, but Nyx grabbed his arm and pointed. “Wait, look over there! What is that? Who is that?”

  Saefa and Jandar both looked in the direction Nyx pointed. A long line of figures were marching over a high dune and disappearing over the far side.

  “It’s people,” Jandar said. “A lot of people.”

  Saefa squinted at the figures made hazy from the heat radiating up from the ground and grinned. “Not people. It is us.”

  Jandar turned an incredulous look on the man. “What the hell do you mean it’s us?”

  Nyx was beaming now too. “It’s Lexon. He created an illusion of us way over there in hopes the army will follow them instead of us. He cast it on the high ground so they will see him long before they spot us.”

  “Saefa, go tell everyone to stop moving, talking, and hunker down as low as they can,” Jandar ordered. “Have them conceal themselves with blankets or clothing or whatever they have that will help them blend in with the ground. He
ll, have them bury themselves in the sand if they have to.”

  Saefa ducked his head and instructed his people to carry the command forward. In less than two minutes, everyone was lying down and camouflaging themselves as best they could. Jandar and Nyx crawled up the rise hiding them from their pursuers and watched the soldiers changing direction. The army began double-timing toward Lexon and his illusion, their commander surely wondering how his quarry had managed to alter their course and put so much distance between them.

  “This might work!” Nyx hissed in excitement.

  “Matrice damn that bard all to hell,” Jandar grumbled.

  Nyx cast him a curious look. “Why? He probably just saved us all.”

  Jandar looked like he had just bitten into the world’s sourest pickle. “I know, and I’ll have to tell him so whenever he brings his skinny ass back here. And you know he will just so he can gloat.”

  “You men and your pride,” Nyx said, shaking her head. She looked back toward the fast-marching army and the phantoms they chased. “That’s a huge illusion. That must be why it looks so indistinct. He’s using the heat waves to mask its lack of solidity. Ingenious isn’t it?”

  “It’s…clever,” Jandar grudgingly admitted.

  The moment the last soldier disappeared over the rise; Saefa leapt up and got the caravan moving once more. They muffled everything metal and kept talking to a minimum, using mostly hand gestures to communicate. There was nothing to do about the goats’ occasional bleating except keeping the sand striders far away and downwind and making them as content as possible.

  Saefa led the way once more, guiding them through the lowest terrain he could find in hopes of avoiding the eyes of any scouts or outriders the army might send back should their commander begin questioning who and what he was now chasing.

  When night finally fell without a sign of their would-be killers, the sense of relief was palpable. They had managed to elude Aelim’s soldiers for several hours, and now they would get half the night to put more distance between them. Even if they did discover they had fallen for a ruse and picked their trail back up, it was unlikely they could catch them before reaching Lahar. It would not be the end of their troubles, but it gave them a chance.

  Lexon clung to the saddle as he guided the sand strider through gullies, keeping out of sight of the soldiers he led astray. Maintaining such a large illusion took a lot of mana and concentration, so he had to make his caravan, which was comprised of no more than a score of featureless forms, disappear from sight behind mounds and dunes while he regained energy.

  Fortunately, his enchanted music required very little in the way of power, and some songs even helped increase his mana regeneration. It was a delicate balance to maintain, but he had so far managed it for several hours. Once night fell, he could slip away and return to the others. He smiled as he pictured Jandar’s reaction to his having saved the day once again. He knew it would grate on the dour blacksmith’s nerves, and the thought of it pleased him immensely.

  The sun slowly dipped below the horizon, and darkness shrouded the desert. He rode on and maintained his illusion for another fifteen minutes before stopping atop a hill. Once he saw campfires flaring up within the enemy camp, he marched his illusory caravan into a gulch where their scouts would not be able to distinguish the rocks from people unless they crept closer.

  Lexon built his own small fire for added effect. If he could trick the army into spending most of the night here before realizing they had been duped, there was no way they would be able to catch back up with the others. He just hoped he could find them. Lexon felt nature’s urgent call and examined the raw skin covering his plucking fingers as he relieved himself next to a large boulder.

  The desert strider began hissing, its tail lashing the air as it began to stamp its feet. Lexon looked over just before scorpions the size of large wolves burst from beneath the sand. Their curled tails whipped forward, piercing the unfortunate lizard’s tough hide.

  Lexon shrieked and scrambled up the rocks as quick as a gecko, a feat he was certain he would not have been able to pull off without terror’s helping hand. He reached the top and realized his worm was still dangling from the hook. Tucking his bits back into his now wet leathers, he scrambled for the bow slung over one shoulder and tried to knock an arrow, but it slipped from his trembling fingers and clattered onto the rocks below.

  He retrieved another arrow from the quiver at his hip, knocked it, and swung his bow around to aim toward his struggling mount. The desert strider spun and snapped at the creatures. It caught one of the scorpion’s tails in its powerful jaws and savaged it, whipping the beast around and smashing it into the rocks.

  Lexon drew back the bow, but he feared striking his mount in the wild melee. The desert strider leapt atop another giant scorpion. The creature’s carapace cracked like overburdened wood, but the poison coursing through the strider’s body was taking its toll. While resistant to the paralytic toxin, the lizard was not immune. Its movements slowed before it succumbed to the poison and ceased moving altogether.

  The scorpions swarmed the doomed desert strider. Mandibles tore through its hide and devoured the meat beneath it. Lexon let fly an arrow, but it skipped off a scorpion’s armor-like carapace. He knocked and loosed another shaft, this one finding purchase and piercing the tough armor.

  The stricken scorpion leapt away from its meal, spun toward the bard, and hissed. Its eight legs propelled it at frightening speed toward Lexon’s small island. Then it began to climb. Lexon began reaching for another arrow, but he dropped his hand to his side as the other monsters realized there was more food perched atop the huge boulder.

  With a regretful sigh, he slung his bow and brought his harp around to compose his final dirge. The first scorpion, the one with the arrow protruding from its shell plate, crested the edge and stared at him with soulless, black eyes. Its claws and mandibles clacked in perfect rhythm as if snapping its fingers in time with the human’s tune.

  Lexon smiled at the creature despite his terror. “You hungry? I’ll give you a meal the lot of you can choke on.”

  Jandar lay on his back, staring up at the starry sky. He was exhausted and should be sleeping, but his mind refused to cease its restless pacing. He could tell by Nyx’s light breathing she too was still awake. All was silent within the camp. Not even the goats stirred to break the stillness.

  Nyx bolted upright and cocked her ear toward the west. Jandar held his breath and listened as well. The light breeze carried the faintest keening of a man’s agonizing death.

  Chapter 18: Heart of Darkness

  NYX LOOKED OUT ACROSS the twilit desert. “He should have come back by now.”

  Jandar laid a hand on her shoulder. “You heard the cries.”

  She dislodged his hand with a shake of her shoulder. “That doesn’t mean they were his. There were a lot of them. Maybe—”

  Jandar quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe he went on a rampage and slaughtered a hundred soldiers all by himself?”

  Nyx shook her head. “It still doesn’t mean he’s dead. The desert holds a lot of dangers.”

  “And he’s one man out there alone in it. Whatever his fate, we have to push on.”

  Nyx opened her mouth to argue, but Saefa interrupted her. “He’s right. The soldiers probably know by now they have been tricked. We must use the time Lexon granted us to get the people to safety. One man or the lives of nearly three hundred. It is an easy choice for me, as it should be for you. The desert has already claimed some and will likely take a few more before our journey is over. There is no reason to give it more than its due.”

  The assassin stared off into the distance once more. “Damn it! All right, let’s get moving.”

  The caravan moved on, trudging ever southward. The full night of rest had reinvigorated most of them, and their progress was better than it had been yesterday even without Lexon’s music to help drive them. They rested an hour for lunch before pushing on.

  The shattered
top of a volcano jutted up into the sky like a broken tooth in the distance. It gradually swelled in size as they drew ever closer. By the time they stopped for the night, they could just make out the dark line of a deep cleft carved into it near its base as if a giant axe had tried to separate the cone from the adjacent mountains.

  “We should ride ahead and scout out whatever dangers may lay in store for our arrival and deal with them should they exist,” Saefa said as he, Nyx, and Jandar sat huddled around a small fire.

  Jandar nodded. “I agree. If there is something or someone dangerous, we can’t just bring these people into the middle of it. Most don’t have weapons and wouldn’t know how to use them if they did. We were created for this kind of thing, they weren’t.”

  “Agreed.”

  Nyx held up a hand for silence. “Someone’s coming from the west.”

  All three leapt to their feet and drew weapons. Jandar kicked sand over the fire to smother it, and Nyx vanished into the night. Jandar caught the sound of shuffling footsteps a moment later and hefted his two hammers. A head bobbed into view above the ring of sand and stone concealing their camp followed by hunched shoulders. Before his lower half crested the hill, Nyx was on him, sliding her dagger beneath his throat.

  The man thrust his hands into the air. “Is that any way to welcome back your savior?”

  Nyx lowered her blade and hugged him from behind. “Lexon, what the hell are you doing out here? What happened?”

  “That’s a story to tell for sure,” Lexon replied. “Might even be a song in it.”

  Jandar wagged his head in disbelief as Lexon and Nyx shuffled down the slope toward him. “I swear you’re like a wart. Every time I think I’m rid of you, you just keep coming back.”

  “Jandar!” Nyx snapped.

  Lexon raised a hand and waved off her rebuke. “He’s just mad that I’ve become the hero in a story he thought was all about himself. I imagine such a thing is quite a blow to a frail ego.”

 

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