A final barrage of blades and Tyler made up his mind. But first, he had to keep Kobu doing his job as the leader of the formation. Both Skarde and the exile were doing well in his judgment, but he preferred Kobu leading the wedge. Habrok alone would have to cover his back. He knew Tyndur had his hands full stiffening his side of the formation. Thankfully, the einherjar didn’t ignite the magical flames of his weapon.
“Kobu!” he called out. “I am going to clear a path to the rearguard! Stay here and make sure the formation keeps moving!”
“Wait, sire!” replied Kobu who looked for Skarde and gave the man orders.
Shit. I should have known the man wouldn’t leave me if I went out there.
“I deeply apologize, sire. But I can’t leave you to go into that swarm alone. My…” Kobu started to explain while bowing deeply.
“I know. Your sense of honor. Let’s get this over with,” Tyler resignedly answered. Arguing with the exile would just waste time. “I’ll be in front. You and Habrok cover my back.” The trio moved past the dwarven front ranks. A hand touched the mage’s arm. It was Dvalin.
“You’re going out there, Lord High Mage?” the chieftain asked.
“Yes, Chief Dvalin. I am going to try to open a clear path to the rearguard,” replied Tyler. Beside Dvalin was Otr. “Glad to see you both alive.”
“Ha. It will be a hot day in Ymir’s Domain when the undead get the better of us!” exclaimed Otr.
Funny, thought the mage, he used the word ‘us’.
“But these strange undead could be the exception,” noted Dvalin. “They fight well for skinny dead warriors. Even the skeletons move fast.”
At Dvalin’s observation, Otr kept quiet.
“Just be ready,” said the mage. Sporadic illumination spells from the three mages lit the landscape, showing Tyler the vast number of enemies still on the field, though Birki’s landscaping efforts slowed down new arrivals to a trickle.
Tyler immediately formed two long, thick barriers running toward the rearguard, leaving a space of eight feet between the two parallel walls. His projected path started a few feet away from the tip of the wedge. Again, he sensed pressure on the newly created shields, but it was not as heavy as before.
The efforts of the three must be working, he concluded as Tyler thought of Birki and his two wards.
But a quick check of the triangular shield protecting the host revealed it was about to give way. Before he could strengthen it, the now familiar sickening crash of flesh and bone on metal loudly echoed through the night air.
The destruction of the barrier happens too fast, observed the mage as he quickly rebuilt the shield of the wedge. He had avoided constantly pumping energy into the barrier. Too much, and the entire construct would disastrously explode, a distinct possibility in the chaos engulfing the battlefield. Not that he had the luxury of time to reinforce the shield as needed – that demanded attention and a cautious infusion of energy.
Tyler noticed the wedge had moved closer to the energy walls he had created. But the strain of creating multiple energy barriers was getting to the mage. A headache was not a good start to what he planned. He turned to Kobu.
“Order the wedge to stop here and hold. We’re near enough, and the men now have to fight those in the main swarm,” the mage told the exile. After Kobu shouted the order, Skarde repeated it down the line.
Tyler took a deep breath and moved forward. As he did so, the dwarves on each side moved their ranks in conjunction with the mage, forming a new tip of the wedge. The sudden movement of the armored fighters caught the attention of the undead on both sides, resulting in renewed vicious fighting.
A gauntlet of revenants faced Tyler with their skeletal mouths open, and the detestable greenish orbs greeted him once more. Beams of energy quickly lanced out from the mage, clearing an area in front of the trio, but a lot of revenants still blocked the way.
“Sire, may I clear the path? Commanding doesn’t give me enough time for combat,” requested Kobu. Habrok’s arrows were already flying past and exploding undead heads.
“By all means, Kobu. But you sound like Tyndur.”
Kobu laughed as his weapon shifted into the kanabo.
“The einherjar’s attitude is catching,” the exile quickly remarked.
Tyler watched as the man strode forward, the brutal weapon on his shoulder. Kobu momentarily halted as his eyes took in the sight of revenants rushing them, weapons already at the ready. The outline of his form flickered, then Kobu disappeared.
The exile suddenly appeared among the skeletal warriors, a downward blow smashing a helmeted cranium. The succeeding movement, a roundhouse swing of the kanabo held by the ring on the other end, caught several more by their heads. Then he vanished again.
Tyler couldn’t believe how fast the exile cleared the way. Even with his enhanced vision, the mage could barely keep up with the movements of Kobu. It must have appeared instantaneous to others watching the incredible display. In a few seconds, the way was clear.
The mage quickly walked to the rearguard section facing them, warriors who suddenly found themselves with nobody to fight. Kobu and Habrok guarded Tyler’s flanks. As he strode forward, waves of slicing projectiles cut down undead on either side.
“Sire.” A voice called out to him in his mind. It was Birki.
“Yes, Birki?” replied Tyler though he continued walking.
“The undead are starting to climb out of the ditches. There are too many, and I can’t create really deep excavations. My present ability limits me to ten feet deep if done at a quick pace.”
The nightmarish scene of undead slowly climbing out of the ground abruptly impressed itself on Tyler’s imagination.
Shit. I know I’ve watched too many horror flicks.
“Slow them down. We need time to withdraw. The host will be at its most vulnerable at the moment of disengaging,” he instructed Birki.
“I’ll get Apulli to help. He can practice building earthen walls of various heights,” came the reply.
The faces greeting him were haggard, weary beyond words, reflecting the rigors of continued fighting. They had been pushed to the limits of their endurance, even for dwarves. The shock and awe of Kobu’s exhibition could also have contributed to the dazed and incredulous expressions. Or the defenders have given themselves up for dead already.
“Move! But maintain your defensive circle. I’ll hold them here until everybody is safe,” shouted Tyler.
There was hesitation by the warriors in front of him. Then he remembered the energy walls laid down between the two groups. It stopped the revenants, but still showed them in their full undead glory. Tyler glanced back.
Shit. Those horrible faces would even give me second thoughts. Not to mention the freaking exotic smell.
***
Tyler stomped his way back to their room in the jarl’s keep, followed by his companions. From the North Gate up to the hallway, all the mage was doing was frantically dusting himself off with one hand, the other one gripping the staff. Whitish dust, tiny particles of dried flesh, and maggots, both live and dead ones, marked his progress.
It had been a relatively easy retreat after the hesitant rescued warriors were finally convinced—no, ordered—by a loud shout from one chieftain in the vanguard. The mage thought it was Otr; the phrasing of the words, the non-dwarf part, was positively similar to how the dwarf displayed his linguistic skills in human languages.
After that, the remaining warriors quickly filed out of the ring and headed for the wedge. Tyler had to admit it was a well-executed maneuver for exhausted and desperate warriors, most of whom were carrying wounded comrades. The mage, seeing the kinds of wounds the majority of the fighters suffered, strongly prayed the healing magic of Adar covered tetanus and maladies associated with bite marks from the teeth of long-deceased persons and creatures. Weapon-inflicted wounds were in the minority but all the injuries were beyond his meager healing skills.
The ring compressed, becoming sm
aller and smaller as the ends coursed, like two threads through the eye of a needle, through the transparent channel.
The mage and his two companions were the last to return to the formation, though it took two devastating volleys of the controlled blasts from his guides to eliminate those running after the fleeing men and dwarves. As Skarde gave the order to withdraw, the packed triangle moved back, harried by the undead. But there was a substantial decrease in the number of attackers, and the assaults were quickly dealt with by the defenders.
Curious about the reduction of the enemy’s ranks, Tyler lit the sky above the field they had left. No other illumination spells were being cast by the other mages so Tyler guessed they must have reached the limit set by magical exhaustion. He couldn’t blame them for reaching their limit so soon. The effects of the exposure to a massive concentration of the strange energy – a sudden bout of the nastiest migraine, extreme dizziness, and possible punishing body pain – were sure to take their toll. The mages were swaying like inebriated old men the last time Tyler saw them.
As the light flooded the field, a bizarre moonscape greeted his eyes. The land in front of him was crisscrossed by numerous irregular lines of trenches, a lot of pits, and long mounds of varying heights. He could see undead clambering up the excavations, but as soon as they reached the top, another deep gouge in the earth appeared in front of them. The small hills were crawling with undead from the primary host on the other side, all trying to advance toward the retreating defenders. But like the trenches, new earthen obstructions kept on rising from the ground, blocking their way.
Must be damned frustrating, thought Tyler.
Unfortunately, the light also illuminated the mage. Being at the literal tip of the armored formation, he immediately attracted the attention of every undead around and more. A quick, terrifying surge of revenants followed, all headed to the mage’s position. Tyler could see every gruesome and repulsive detail of the skeletal or decayed bodies of the fetid wave, accented by whitish maggots and glowing verdant excuses for eyes.
Habrok quickly started with his bow, and Kobu stood ready to receive those able to pass through Tyler’s chest-high shield. He had no delusions about the barrier withstanding the multitude swiftly coming toward them. Seeing them again run in the light given by his spell, Tyler was chillingly reminded of how fast those undead bodies could move.
His guides started with their energy strikes again, but the revenants were too many, too close, and too fast. As they smashed into the magical barrier, Tyler’s walking nightmare began.
Apulli had seen the rising problem and came running in his energy form. The boy ran across the party’s front, and in his wake were exploding undead bodies. Nauseating bone dust, grisly body parts, tiny worms, and shattered pieces of armor and weapons were flung in all directions. A lot rained down on the trio, the gruesome undead debris lodging in their attire, hair, and exposed skin.
It all resulted in a First Mage messily covered with grisly minute human remains, crawling small insects, and powdered bone rushing on his way back to the fortress, blasting the occasional undead who blocked the way. The overwhelming revulsion made his mind lose its focus during the last waning stages of the battle. All he could think of was what sickeningly covered him from head to toe.
But for Kobu and Habrok still guarding him, being covered with the ghastly remains was a minor inconvenience, though Kobu nudged Habrok at one point and pointed out what was happening behind them. As Habrok took a glance, the ranger could see that the strange deep furrows and low hills were still being created behind them, followed them, and continued to block any pursuit. At a loss for words, Habrok just stared at the grinning exile and shook his head. If any of the dwarves and human warriors noticed what was happening, it appeared they were too tired and thankful for the absence of pursuit from the main enemy host to raise any alarm or concern.
When they reached the laager, the tired host stopped to rest, though it formed a defensive formation. Some warriors bringing the wounded pushed on to Hedmark. Tyler cast another illumination spell, revealing a field empty of enemies at their rear, but the entire area looked like the playpen of hyperactive giant groundhogs and moles. The trenches and hills had stopped appearing about a hundred yards away.
With a final look at the empty field behind them, Tyler gripped his staff and without a word, determinedly continued on to the fortress. Tyndur followed, though the ordinarily talkative einherjar kept silent when he noticed Tyler’s odd demeanor. Kobu had to catch up with the party as he had to give hasty orders to Skarde.
As the group caught sight of the North Gate, the mage frantically tried to get rid of the horrid mementos of the battle, shuddering all the time.
Tyndur meaningfully looked at the exile and the ranger. Then he grinned widely.
Skathi spake:
51. "Wert thou first and last | at the deadly fight
There where Thjazi was caught,
From my dwellings and fields | shall ever come forth
A counsel cold for thee."
Loki spake:
52. "More lightly thou spakest | with Laufey's son,
When thou badst me come to thy bed;
Such things must be known | if now we two
Shall seek our sins to tell."
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Way to Hell
Freshly bathed and wearing clean tunic and pants, Tyler laid himself down on the bed. His armor was being cleaned, together with the gear of the others, in the next room where Tyndur and Habrok kept watch over them. The two were not taking any chances. It may have been the jarl’s house, but that didn’t mean there would be no temptation for people to run away with the armor and weapons, all warnings and consequences be damned.
He did ask the two to tell everyone, even the jarl, that he was not available. Kobu, also in a plain tunic and pants, stayed with him in the room, sitting beside the door, with his back to the wall. When the mage asked him about the defensive preparations, all the exile told him was that all the needed preparations were being undertaken, and the additional equipment he requested was being constructed.
The exile trusted Skarde to look after what he had ordered. Besides, Hedmark would need the knowledge he was imparting, said Kobu, and Skarde was better off getting practical experience in siege warfare.
“Tell them it’s magical exhaustion. They’ll understand that part,” he remembered telling Habrok and Tyndur. There were questions in the eyes of his companions, but Tyler resolved to settle those issues at another time.
Even after the bath, involuntary shudders and goosebumps shot through his body. The mage knew it was but his imagination, yet he could still feel the grossly repugnant rain, especially that part during the hell-wrought shower when he sensed something crawling down his back. Tyler considered himself lucky he didn’t puke right on the battlefield. The idea of pieces of maggot-ridden and decaying bodies of dead people on his skin, sliding in through the openings in his armor, was a dreadful and repulsive experience.
Tyler closed his eyes, thankful for the opportunity to get his thoughts in order. Too many startling revelations, he admitted. Not least were the abilities of the children in the world within the staff.
He reminded himself to ask Birki to balance out Apulli’s training. It was impressive, he admitted, but the power to destroy needed to be tempered. Otherwise, there was a high chance he’d end up with a dark deity on his hands.
Wilan was restrained by millennia of painful experiences and disappointments which fortunately led the entity down a path of reflection and light. Tyler didn’t have that luxury to give to Apulli. The mage wanted the boy to focus more on the ability to create. It was more challenging and would prove to more beneficial in the long term. It was easy to tear down something or blow it up, but infinitely more difficult to come up with an original and innovative creation to solve a specific problem.
If destruction were the perfect solution, then most of this world would have been in ruins when I
arrived, mused the mage.
Then there was Loki. Tyler guessed the trickster had something to do with the plague, despite the deity’s statements to the contrary. He didn’t know how the bastard had found such a complicated spell, or how he did it, but the mage held the trickster responsible. So far, he couldn’t think of anybody else – the events in the lands of fire and ice only reinforced his suspicions. Even Hela had problems with rebelling dead in her dark realm, so that ruled her out for the time being. But one thing was clear; the problem appeared to be centered in Skaney and the Norse pantheon.
But he wasn’t sure about the ambush involving Asem – it could have been part of the opening moves of the war in the southwestern part of Adar. As a realm, Kemet had its own share of enemies, and it stood to reason that a major war would open with something to provoke Kemet’s pantheon. But there were also too many gaps in that puzzle.
Too many unknowns, thought the mage. He didn’t discard the possibility that Loki might be involved somehow in the ambush, but Tyler needed to find Loki’s motivation — the trigger — behind the attack, if indeed the Norse god was involved. Loki’s involvement would definitely leave traces to be discovered, leading to a break in the oath he gave to the mage.
The consequences would be severe – the magic itself would punish the deity and Tyler would be free to act against Loki. Yet, it was a binding arrangement the trickster went to great lengths to obtain, again a contradiction giving Tyler pause in that line of reflection.
But one headache at a time, decided the mage. And the most pressing one is right on my doorstep.
Tyler thought that the undead host near Hedmark could act now and advance on the fortress, depending on how its leader interpreted the failure to eliminate the dwarves, or they could continue as they were doing – gathering strength and waiting for the arrival of the much larger host gathered near the Barrens. He still didn’t know how Freyr fared in the promised diversion. Despite the price of such involvement by the deity, the mage knew he desperately needed the Barrens army out of the coming battle.
The Accidental Archmage - Book Five: Loki's Gambit Page 27