Heart of the Maiden: (Lords of the Deep Hells Book 3)

by Paul Yoder

  There was a momentary hush along the battlefield, but the arisen paid the blast no attention, continuing to press the attack on their momentarily stunned victims, ripping shields and weapons from their grasp as they began to break through the line the Shields had formed.

  “Hell hounds!” one of the scouts called from the wall top as a pack of arisen dolingers bounded around the corner, taking one look at the Hyperium’s improvised bunker and leapt in at the Shields that turned to face the new horror.

  The Hyperium dolingers had been prepped for war, and reacted in kind, rearing up, snapping their maws down at the charging, unliving doppelgangers, wrapping up in a heap of flailing claws and teeth, most of the Shields jumping off spryly before getting smashed by the beasts’ ferocious clash.

  One arisen dolinger squeezed through the line, entering a group of Shadow soldiers, swiping two off their mounts with its large, rotten paw, following them to the ground with its yellow, black teeth, chomping into them viciously, crushing ribs and limbs before other Hyperium dolingers could run it down.

  Their mounts were on the stray hound quick, tearing it apart as two more arisen dolingers scaled the low wall, knocking the scouts off and sending them running as the dog-like horses jumped into the fray.

  Pandemonium began to set in as their ranks were broken, the arisen dolingers ferociously wreaking havoc as the Hyperium troops retaliated, sticking them with spears and slashing them with their scimitars.

  “Dismount!” Hathos ordered, seeing that arisen dolingers were going to rip them apart if they did not soon deal with them, or retreat from the slaughter box they were holed up in.

  The troops dismounted quickly, the front line holding the walking dead back, siccing the dog-like mounts into the horde, and dismembering those arisen that were unfortunate enough to get in their path.

  The dolingers inside the building’s walls were becoming too unwieldy to handle, and as their riders dismounted and sent them in to attack the arisen dolingers, they happily obeyed, barks and horrid snarls making it hard for everyone to hear the orders being shouted out to the company.

  The few horses that had survived thus far into the night, now ran off into the ruined streets, searching frantically for a way out of the battlefield.

  The dolingers had given them some breathing room, and Hathos along with all the company command shouted for a withdrawal from the building, leading the troops out into the streets.

  The scouts that had been on the walls rushed to him, giving him their reports of the battlefield and the figure they had seen atop the hill in the center of the ruins as the group slashed through standing corpses in the street, chopping through the weak resistance as they headed for the glowing monoliths that began to spark with red energy.

  “Jadu!” the old enchanter shouted back to the praven as they galloped through the break in the wall with Arie and Naldurn at their sides. “You know all those spells that I yelled at you for wrecking every training hall and room you studied in?”

  “The fiery explosive ones?” Jadu squeaked back, hugging Zaren tightly around the waist as they galloped.

  “You’re free to play around with them here on those big monkeys. In fact, the more explosive, the better,” Zaren croaked loudly.

  They rode up behind the struggling band of golden tabard riders, the men frantically scurrying out of the way of the flailing gorillas as they reached for the unfortunate soldiers that happened to get too close, snatching their long spears from them, yanking them from their horses, stomping on those that fell to the ground.

  “Alright, think I’ve got a spell suitable for this; though, all those men close by will need a good bath afterwards,” Jadu announced, turning around in the saddle to face the battle, his back flat against Zaren’s for support as he produced his yew wand.

  He shot his wrist forward, revealing a stone-scarab bracelet. The various gemstones the scarabs were carved from held a slight fuzzy glow to them, and as he tapped his wand point to a red one, he slowly extracted the glow from the stone, transferring it to the tip of his wand, holding it aloft, chittering strange runic words into it as he held it up, pointing it to the front-and-center ape.

  A flicker of black and red shrapnel shot forth from the wand, whizzing angrily towards the beast, sizzling into the ape’s chest.

  Those men close to the beast paused for a moment, not sure what the flickering red streak had been or what it signified, but the arisen mountain gorilla did not seem phased by the sizzling ember that burned within his chest cavity as it flung its club arms out at the jabbing spears again, reaching for another victim to tear and trample. Jadu, however, was finishing his incantation, drawing intricate tracers in the air with his wand, snapping his finger at once, jabbing through the sigil to break the tapestry of light.

  As the illusionary symbol shattered, an explosion combusted within the giant’s chest, ripping its structure violently apart, sending bone and black gore everywhere. So explosive was the blast, that many nearby horses and riders were knocked to the ground, wounded and stunned, everyone looking with ringing ears to the momentarily standing pair of gorilla legs, its upper half completely scattered across the battlefield.

  “That’ll do, looks like,” Jadu mumbled, working with the other two gemstones along his bracelet, repeating the same process before shooting both shards into the other two gorillas.

  This time, the company made a full retreat before the blast went off, though the gorilla bits still managed to make impact on many an unfortunate rider as arms, heads, and chunks of rib racks went flying through the air, ripping apart – at least for a moment – the advancing front line of the dead, long enough for the bloodied riders who still had their wits about them, to charge, taking advantage of the foes that had been laid prone, stabbing and hacking at the undefending mob.

  “Where to next, boss?” Jadu quipped, flipping back around in the saddle, leaving Arie and Naldurn completely flabbergasted as Zaren scanned for tougher foes along the enemy front.

  “Not a challenge enough for ya, huh?” Zaren mumbled just as the pillars in the center of the ruins flashed to life, runic symbology flaring angrily along the structures.

  “Hit the pillar closest to us with that spell,” Zaren ordered, studying the writ along the structure, trying to decipher its meaning as Jadu turned in his saddle once more, mentioning, “Last one I got for this spell without channeling it raw.”

  “Get ready for your real test, boy,” the old man whispered, barely audible to Jadu as he rested against the hunched over master enchanter.

  Few times had the enchanter actually spooked him with words, but the ominous tone and rattle in his voice certainly caused him to hesitate as he began formulating his next missile towards the odd lit-up structure.

  They were getting closer to the center of the ruins, which gave them some view of the battlefield. The view, however, was not an inspiring one. All companies were struggling, especially the horse riders led by Saadir, which looked as though over half his attachment had been overrun by vicious dead that had surrounded and separated them, the fight continuing in small, hopeless pockets that proceeded to shrink moment by moment.

  The small attachments led by Captain Durmont were holding the perimeters of the ruins along the broken walls. They had not made much progress, but they had not become surrounded either, and their numbers looked healthy still, though the destruction the apes had caused along the northern front had been noticeable, and though Zaren and Jadu had apparently taken care of the threat, their numbers had been reduced.

  The two-thousand-man infantry unit at the west entrance to the ruins had been lain low, hundreds of fresh bodies laid torn apart along the ruins’ former gate yard. Two massive centipede-like golems of flesh, wickedly writhed and thrashed amongst the troops, its cavernous maws engorging itself upon the flesh of the living as it slithered through the troop’s ranks, snatching up all within reach. Those that were engaged with the two abominations, were dealing with armored arisen hulks, much la
rger than most men, towering over their child-sized opponents, smashing through lines of defense with crude rods and oversized choppers, badly battering the western force as their numbers dwindled before Hathos’ eyes.

  He knew from the scene before him that they would not be victorious this day if they did not find Sha’oul and dispatch the army at its head, having seen the tides of war too many times to even have hope of a victory any other way at that point. So much blood had been spilt already, and the sun was beginning to set. They would soon be left in the dark of the night to finish the fight—left in the shadows to slowly die, one company at a time.

  A blast impacted the pillar closest to them, sending a rumbling shockwave through the rubble and ground around them, rocks pocking off, impacting both arisen and Hyperium alike, everyone heading for cover as they tried to assess what had just happened.

  Along the mound at the top of the cracked steps leading up to the monument flashed another light, this one a brilliant white, matter along the hill warping in shape as ripples of reality flared slightly before returning to normal.

  “What was that?” Naldurn shouted over the drum of battle happening in all corners of the ruins around them, looking to Hathos who still stared looking to the anomaly that had patched back up as quickly as it had occurred.

  He did not answer her directly, but he shouted to his troops, “We make for the center of the monument! Once there, we secure its perimeter,” ordering all companies forward as they began the press once again up the hill on foot.

  “Reza!” he shouted to the saren who had her longsword out, slashing into the walking dead that rushed at their right flank, slamming into the line of Blood soldiers she was with. Falling back, she heeded Hathos’ call.

  “If we find Sha’oul up there, I leave him to you and your crew. Good luck,” he told her just as the front line cut a path through the arisen’s line that had been blocking them from the mound’s platform in the center, the company spilling through the gap as the remaining Blood and Shield soldiers held it open for them to make their way through.

  “Form a line!” Hathos shouted to his companies, over and over, till they ran along the platform at the top of the hill, smashing back arisen that came running to them as soon as they took note of them.

  The last rays of sun shone long across the desert scene beyond them to the east, and though the ruins looked dire, the horse riders of Saadir all but drowned out by the brute arisen that picked them apart, a line of dolingers ran over the nearest dunes from the southeast carrying colors Hathos knew well.

  The Plainstate had arrived in force.

  Just as his heart took hope, the pillars pulsated, energy crackling behind them from curved pillar to curved pillar, a constant arch wicking between the two.

  The platform was just out of sight, but Hathos had seen Reza and her comrades make their way up the broken ledge. They alone could see what dark machinations transpired above the fray. The sight of reinforcements from his homeland was reassuring, as he knew their seven-hundred-man battalion would do much to help even the battlefield, but as a series of pops and strange explosions sounded along the northern front with the constant hiss and warbled buzz screaming in his ear from just overhead along the red pillars, he knew the tides of war still did not favor them.

  He watched as his men slowly were pressed for ground, some being pulled into the horde, their armor and weapons pulled from them, then their limbs, then their faces.

  Josiah came to him, seeing his deliberation, quickly praying with hands of blue, reaching out to lay his hands upon the Hyperium Primus.

  “Hassome bless you with sight, clarity, and focus to deliver your men safe from harm this day and guide them in the chaos of battle at this time, that good may be the ultimate victor.”

  He closed his eyes through the prayer, and though short, when he opened them again to look upon the scene, his eyes glowed with conviction.

  They would hold the line for Reza, and Reza would deal with whatever awaited them along the hilltop platform.

  He rushed to three Blood soldiers who were being overrun, slashing with precision at the dead that groped at their tired sword swings, Hathos decapitating the ones that had begun to pull a soldier down.

  “Up, man!” he yelled, hacking through the arms that reached for them both, giving the soldiers time enough to recenter their small formation before Hathos sprinted away to the next group of Shields and Shadows, shouting down the line for Tau and Undine to hold the line at all costs.

  “Let no dead reach that platform!” he shouted, his voice going hoarse as he picked up a discarded spear, slashing and prodding the dead that rushed the mound, pressing against the line of Hyperium with all the mass of hundreds of bodies.

  The sun was down now, and the horrors of the night had begun in full.

  38

  Test of wills

  “That trick will cost you dearly,” Denloth scathed, even as he walked through a Seam rift, materializing with his Oathbound before the enchanter and his apprentice.

  “A Seam walker,” Zaren whispered, noting the strange choice of hexweave expertise their opponent had chosen.

  He lifted Jadu by his robes, depositing him on the ground to stand before his opponent.

  “You beat him in a duel, and you will be a master enchanter, young Jadu,” Zaren said, looking down on the praven who looked up, a little taken aback by the sudden change in his master’s tone.

  “If you fail—you die. This is no class. No test. Focus. Remember what you have learned at my side.”

  No sooner had Jadu turned back to face the deathly man than he had pointed at the praven, sending the skeletal knight running to him.

  An arrow whizzed through the air, exploding into the knight’s skull, shattering it in a spray of slick blood.

  Everyone turned to Arie, Naldurn by her side with saber drawn.

  “Deal with them. The praven is mine,” Denloth hissed, beyond frustrated by the second-rate group that had almost ruined his master’s plans by collapsing the obelisks before the rift could stabilize.

  The Oathbound reformed its skull, blood coating it in thick gobs, its bloody eye sockets turning to look at the two haltia, acquiring its new targets.

  It ran towards them at surprising speeds. Arie nocked another arrow, loosing it once more at its skull. It phased out of existence at once, the arrow whistling harmlessly past, leaving the two women looking around frantically for their foe.

  In a blink, the knight warped back into being behind Naldurn, curved dagger in hand, stabbing it through her jerkin, ripping it out of her side, thrusting in once more.

  She leapt forward before the second blow could land, but blood spattered the sands as she haggardly turned to face the death knight.

  Arie turned and loosed the arrow she had at ready, but the shot skipped harmlessly off the knight’s armor as it lunged in for her with its thick knife cocked and ready to snap forward.

  It made a thrust, Arie using her bow to block the blade, jumping up, spinning with the press of the knight, and kicked it squarely in the back of the skull, sending a spray of blood along the ground in front of it as it fell to all fours.

  Naldurn lunged, screaming in pain and fury, smashing through the thing’s congealed blood head with her saber, dropping it to the ground, but no sooner had it been leveled than it began to reform, this time a pearlescent sheen began to glow across its sickly forming skull, the space around it fractioning, sharding over and in on itself.

  Naldurn brought up her saber to smash the thing’s skull once more, but its gauntleted hand latched onto her leg, and before the sword could land, the space around the two warped and slowed.

  Arie watched as the image of the two combatants slowly drifted sideways, reset, then drifted again, diamond fractals turning bits and pieces of them inwards and out before the two flickered, and blinked out of existence.

  “Naldurn!” Arie shouted, searching frantically for her companion, but the space she had last occupied remain
ed void, other than the pool of blood that she had left behind along the sands.

  Bolts of crackling energy split the stark air between Denloth and Jadu, the sizzle slashing into the outheld wand tip Jadu shot forth to absorb the force, each tendril of purple energy hissing as it was sucked up into the focal point.

  Jadu flicked smoke from the stick’s end, trying to cool it down before revealing his scarab bracelet, chanting softly, pulling forth yellow light from the tiger’s eye gemstone, swirling in circles the gritty light before abruptly slicing through the dusty glow with his wand towards his dueling partner.

  A burst of sand flacked through the air between them, generating a full-on sandstorm in a cone in front of him.

  Buying himself some time, Jadu pulled out a small, leatherbound book, hastily flipping to a set of pages. He read out loud speedily through the text, the runes on the page glittering as he rushed through the incantation just as the sandstorm began to dissipate.

  Spectral skulls and anguished faces danced about Denloth, sucking in the simple spell until the winds had died out, the sand blown out behind the spectral faces in piles as the dark robed figure began menacingly striding towards the small praven.

  Jerking his hand out, a long, black withered staff materialized from the smoke, Denloth gripping it angrily.

  Multiple pages burned into ash from his tome, Jadu’s eyes locked now on Denloth who strode his way, glaring at the praven, waiting to see what else the little trickster had up his sleeve to throw at him.

  Pink slivers of glass crystallized in the air above Jadu, splintering out into needle sharp spikes. A line of crystals flung forward, showering Denloth in hot glass, but as the man held his staff in front of him, smoke emitted in a thin wall on either side of him, deflecting the pink glass that shot towards him until the last missile had been flung.

  Jadu finished up with his reading, and already strange things had begun to take foot as he snapped his book closed, tucking it back in his folds.