With a snap of the launching pin, the arm swung up, catching on a horizontal bar and sending the boulder sailing through the air. The mages then worked to stabilize the catapult while the ursalor handlers encouraged the beasts back into place so they could rearm the weapon.
Ruhk and Verna were unsure at first where they should focus their attacks, but if the mages turned their skills against them, they would be at a huge disadvantage. Despite the massive beasts that could run amok and crush them, they set their sights on the five mages and raced ahead.
Other soldiers in the area tried to stop them, but they barreled through and brushed them aside, seeking their quarry. The mages continued their casting, hoisting one boulder magically into the air, oblivious to the oncoming charge. Verna raised her sword, ready to strike one mage down, but Ruhk pounced and shoved her aside, taking an arrow in his shoulder. With a scream of pain, he wrenched the arrow from his flesh and gripped his sword as tightly as possible. Verna recovered from the tumble and tucked her head low, racing across the distance to the mages. The boulder was hovering in the air, drawing closer to the catapult, when one of the mages saw her coming.
With a gasp of shock, the mage lost concentration and the spell manipulating the boulder faltered immediately. The massive stone dropped and rolled, crushing three of the Kallisorian soldiers. Verna continued her pursuit, but the air mage recovered quickly and turned her skills against her. With a furious gust of wind, she smacked Verna in the face. It was like running into a wall and Verna fell to the ground, stunned.
Ruhk could barely see through the pain in his body, but he charged for the mages. He saw Verna tumble aside and reached his hands out before him in case a similar spell was erected. He plowed against the agony as he reached the mages, barreling into one and knocking her down. Another mage pulled upon the energies of the earth and kicked a pile of dirt at Ruhk. Each bit of muck hardened to stone and pelted him. He didn’t care. The catapult had to be stopped, whatever the cost. He swung his sword like a huge fan, deflecting many of the incoming pebbles, after which he tried to reach the mage directly.
By now, all five mages had turned their attention on the two assailants, bringing minor spells around to deflect them and to keep them detained until the other soldiers could sweep in to defeat them. Verna jumped repeatedly, trying to avoid snapping mouths that appeared in the soil under her. Ruhk struggled against a whirlwind that carried innumerable pellets of earth. He could barely hear against the tumult of the wind, and he feared he might crash into Verna at any moment.
The onrush of soldiers filled them with panic, and the minor spells of the mages were overwhelming them. Verna refused to perish under such conditions and as she bounced around avoiding the moving traps, she set her sights on the nearest mage and then launched her sword. The blade flipped end over end as it went and the mage had to stop her spell to deflect the projectile. It gave Verna a chance to rush ahead and, with a wild scream, she tackled another mage who was aiming his spells toward Ruhk. The mage hit the ground with a thud and Verna punched him unconscious.
The projectiles swirling around Ruhk lessened somewhat, though the wind continued unabated. He leaned his body forward and let it push ahead blindly. He crashed into the side of the catapult and scored a gash on his left arm. The pebbles thudded into the machine and soon were gone. All he had left was the wind to contend with. Using the catapult as a guide, Ruhk held his other hand over his eyes, trying to make out shapes in the distance. There was too much motion for him to concentrate on, but he knew roughly where the mages were and so he pushed himself away from the weapon and charged, his sword swinging chaotically.
He felt the blade bite into one foe on the right, then another on the left. He didn’t stop to spar, moving on and keeping the blade in motion, hacking toward one shifting blob, then another. His sword strokes were inefficient and sporadic, but the wild nature of the attack made it hard for anyone to defend against him.
Verna grabbed some random spell components from the man she had knocked down and she turned toward the next mage. Without thinking of the consequences, she cracked the waterbeetles in half and flung them into the next spell the mage was casting. The unintended spell component was drawn into the casting and the rush of air that followed was laden with a thick slime that splattered everywhere. Verna heard the curses from the mage as he tried to shake the mess off his robes so he could grab for other components, but she didn’t give him a chance. The sucking sound of her feet was an ominous warning for the fate coming to him and the mage panicked, trying to grab anything from his pockets before she reached him. And even though he did manage to wrangle a mess of leaves from one pocket, he didn’t have time to enact any sort of spell. As with the previous mage, Verna hammered against him until her fists punctured his defensive spells, allowing her to knock him out.
Ruhk felt the bite of several other blades nipping at his skin and he wondered if the entire battlefield would soon be covered in his blood. His mind raced, thinking of the family he had left behind so he could serve the king, wondering what stories would ever reach them about his adventures. He doubted his wife would understand why he defected to Gabrion’s quest, nor why he now gave his life to take down a catapult, when he could have sent others ahead to accomplish the task instead. He thought of the raging fight they would have if he could somehow return, knowing she loved him dearly and was merely looking out for his wellbeing. But he wouldn’t get to have that argument if the soldiers continued to pummel him.
Thinking of his two small children, Ruhk roared and started to spin with the whirlwind that continued to disorient him and slow him down. He whipped the sword up and down as he did so, feeling resistance here and there as he connected with the combatants trying to take him down. He turned faster and faster, propelled by the wind itself, and soon he spun with such speed, he had no sense of where he was or what was happening. His vision filled with a plethora of sparks from his sword smashing against iron armor and other weapons, but the attacks did not relent. One sword reached into the whirlwind and cut a long gash across Ruhk’s midsection.
As he reached his arm down to grab for the wound, his spinning increased, and he realized suddenly that his feet were off the ground, turning wildly with the maelstrom. Centripetal force made it difficult to hold his blade any longer, and he tried to grab it with two hands, but he couldn’t bring them together and the sword flew away. He vaguely heard a scream in the distance as a response.
The two remaining mages altered their tactics, turning their spells inward, defending themselves against intrusion. The earth mage grabbed dirt and mashed it against her skin, then called for it to coat her completely, essentially covering her in stone. Her movements became sluggish, and because of that, she couldn’t cast spells effectively, but the density of the outer armor was such that Verna couldn’t even dent it with her sword. The warrior turned instead to the last mage.
The young man’s eyes were wild with fear as he pulled wind around himself in wild torrents. Some blades of air lashed out at Verna, while others deflected her strikes away from him. He couldn’t control them directly, having empowered them to protect him at all costs. The wind whirled around and battered against Verna, causing her to squint and lose her aim. She tried lunging for him, but the gusts of air deflected her and splattered her to the ground. With a growl, she rose up and charged the mage, weaving uncontrollably left and right as the magic pushed her around.
She threw her sword again, regretting it instantly as the wind snagged it and reflected it back at her. Dodging low, Verna reached up and grabbed the sword, blade first, cutting her hand in the process. She reversed the blade, taking the hilt again, and risked a glance at the stone-covered mage who seemed to be biding her time. Grateful for that reprieve, Verna focused on the air mage and tried again. Leap after leap, she kept missing the man by mere inches. Each time he seemed to be elsewhere, but she knew she was the one who was being deflected. She grabbed her sword tightly again and pounced. But as she f
elt her body being pushed away, she curled in tightly, bringing the sword around as quickly as she could. The blade hacked into the mage’s robe, and he fell to the ground with a blood-curdling cry.
The earth mage wailed in horror, dropping her stony armor and rushing to the air mage’s side. Tears filled her eyes as she saw blood welling up quickly from his wound. Weeping, she threw her arms around him and waited for Verna to finish them off.
Instead, the mad warrior crouched down and, through gasping breaths, asked, “Do you know any healing magic?”
The woman wailed, “What good will that do, when you’ll just cut us down moments later?”
“I won’t,” Verna promised. “No one is supposed to die today. Go on,” she implored. “Heal him.”
Without waiting, Verna turned around and saw Ruhk stumbling about, his body covered in blood. She rushed to his aid, striking down the three soldiers who pursued him. “I’m here! I’m here!” she shouted, catching him as he fell over, retching from the frantic spinning.
Exhausted, Ruhk wiped his mouth and turned to Verna, “It’s been a good ride.”
“Don’t you talk like that!” she scolded. “There’s more for us to do.”
He shook his head, his chest heaving. “I can barely feel anything. I’m done.”
Verna smacked him. “Ruhk! Don’t you quit on me now. Rest a moment, sure, but you’re not finished here today. Do you hear me?”
Ruhk tried to smile but his pain was terrible. Blood leaked from numerous wounds, and Verna realized there wasn’t anything she could do for him now. Except win. She gently touched her hand to his face, closing her eyes and wishing she could do something else.
“Stand back,” said a terse voice behind her. Verna turned around and saw the earth mage with herbs and dirt in her hands. “He’s going to scream,” she warned, “but it might save him. Shall I?”
“Yes.”
The mage went immediately to work as Verna turned her gaze around the site. The air mage she had cut was lying on his back, breathing slowly. Twenty or so soldiers lay unconscious or dead, she wasn’t sure which, as did the other three mages. The ursalor handlers were nowhere to be seen, and Verna wondered if they had met their fate already or if they had fled.
As predicted, Ruhk howled in raging agony as the earth mage worked her magic. She patted leaves and dirt onto his major wounds and cast a quick healing spell that sealed the lacerations abruptly. His body twitched and would have thrashed about if the mage hadn’t first pinned him to the ground with her spells. He screamed again and again, eventually passing out.
“A life for a life,” the mage said, looking up at Verna.
“Get your man out of here,” the warrior suggested. “This battle was not meant to happen. Unless there is a way to get the fighting to stop, things will get worse before they’re better. So, get him out of here and get to safety.”
“I don’t understand what foe leaves her enemy alive to rise up another day, bu—”
“I’m no enemy,” Verna stated sharply. “We wanted only to speak with your king, not this. But we had to be ready in case… of this.”
“What of him?” she asked, pointing to Ruhk.
Verna shook her head, her face a mask of confusion. “I don’t know.”
“Are you really here to stop the fighting? It’s what we were told. The ruse you’re fighting under is to bring peace.”
“It’s no ruse,” she said.
They held their gazes for a time and then the mage nodded slowly. “Maybe you’re right; I don’t know. But you look like you’ve got fight left in you. What are you going to do?”
Verna glanced over her shoulder at the two ursalors that started stomping their feet, trying to break the harness linking them together. “It looks like things are going to get interesting soon.”
“You can’t protect him and take them on at the same time.”
“I know,” she said sadly. Her voice cracked as she added, “I’m sure he will forgive me.”
The mage stared intently again. “I’ll take him with me. With us.”
“You will?” Verna gasped. “Why?”
A tiny smirk flickered onto her face for a moment. “To see if you’re telling me the truth about why you’re all here. Come find us when it’s all over. Head for Warringer.”
“Thank you,” she breathed, a sense of relief washing over her. “I’m Verna.”
“Illuria.” The ursalors cried out in rage, smashing into each other as they tried to shatter the restraints. “Here, Verna.” She set a leaf in Verna’s hand and cast a minor healing spell, the effects of which numbed some of the pain in her body. “That’ll help your wounds not bleed so fast.”
“Thank you. You’d better go before those two break free.”
“Good luck to you.”
“And you.” Verna touched her hand to Ruhk’s face one last time before she found her sword and stepped away.
Chapter 41
Ordren’s Strike
Gabrion and Kitalla continued to battle as one unit. They moved so fast and with such precise countermoves, they looked like one being with four arms and legs expertly navigating the battlefield and tearing down any opposition. Fatigue was irrelevant to them as they lashed out with mace and daggers, their bodies pirouetting about and cutting through the Kallisorian forces.
They were easily identified as a huge threat, and the soldiers homed in on them, trying to stop them in their tracks. But it was like trying to hold back a stampede. Gabrion’s smashes with the mace stunned one man after the next, while Kitalla clobbered their iron helmets with the hilts of her daggers or crushed their chests with her foot. Each strike was filled with the power their adventures had built within them and the soldiers fell one after another.
Ordren saw the efforts of the companions and growled. He ordered fifty foot soldiers to surround them and to press inward, determined to drown them out with numbers. As they went, the captain hefted his sword and continued searching for his prey.
Kitalla noticed the increased numbers immediately and she warned Gabrion of the change. “Got it,” he said between strikes. He dug his heels in the ground and bent his legs, swinging the mace around in challenge. Kitalla took a few steps away from him, pulling extra daggers from her pockets and arranging three knives in each hand, making her fists look like large metal talons.
With a unified shout, ten soldiers flooded in first, surrounding the duo. One man snapped a whip at Kitalla’s feet, trying to snag her ankle but missing. She retaliated with a spin-kick that knocked him backwards. Two swords came cutting in and she dropped to the ground to avoid them, pushing herself up instantly and flashing her arms out to the side, her blades thudding against the chestplates. Another swordsman rushed her as her body was wide open, but Kitalla jumped and kicked the sword with one foot and the man’s face with the other.
Gabrion’s mace became a whirl of activity as he thundered against the oncoming torrent of fighters. His swings were so powerful that when he sideswiped one soldier, the soldier invariably crashed into the man beside him. The momentum of the weapon allowed Gabrion to pivot sharply and snap the mace back the other way, tracing a mobius path in the dirt. The shaft of the mace Prethos had given him was noticeably thicker than others he had used, but no one would have noticed his discomfort, his attacks were so effective. Periodically, he altered his stance so no one would deduce his rhythm and take advantage of it.
Six soldiers down, then seven, and Kitalla called to her favorite battle rhythm and pushed her body to the beat. She used her de facto claws to rake against the leather straps binding armor together, or to sever the ties of scabbards and other paraphernalia. A few soldiers tripped over their fallen items and added to the confusion. She glanced around and saw Gabrion’s sweeping strides, grinning at the power in every strike.
Over his head, she saw more soldiers approaching. It seemed the Kallisorian king was worried about the two of them in particular, and she was both delighted and annoyed. The Hathren
fighters did their best to assist them and they were able to intervene with a number of the attackers. The air was loaded with the cacophony of war.
“We have to move!” she decided. Gabrion glanced around and understood. He whistled back to her, gesturing with one hand, then he smacked down three more soldiers as she finished her quarry. Gabrion then took the mace in two hands, one at the head and the other at the base. Kitalla charged toward him, leaping as she approached. Her feet tapped the overly thick handle of the mace as Gabrion hoisted up with all his might. Kitalla flew through the air, flipping as she went, pulling out of her roll as she reached the ground with a thud. Surprised, the soldiers in the area were unprepared for her initial strikes and four more went down quickly.
After tossing Kitalla, Gabrion spun with the king’s mace in front of him and charged forth, bashing out to the sides and around, stunning one foe after another until he reached her and the growing pile of unconscious bodies at her feet.
They were both marked with numerous superficial wounds, but they didn’t care. The king wasn’t too far away now and they had to press through and bring this rout to an end. With a piercing whistle, Gabrion called for help from his Hathren allies, so he and Kitalla could focus on their goal. With a wild cry, Kitalla raced onward, her arms flashing out to the sides and her body occasionally bouncing into the air to kick out or avoid a blow. Gabrion rushed along with her, and soon they cleared a path to the king while the Hathrens took over against the lesser soldiers.
The Forgotten Tribe Page 34