The flanks and the middle of the mass were already engaged by leading ranks of the arriving beasts. Still, Perses counted on the difficulty of engaging a moving target. Instructions have been given not to leave the formation, even to finish off a severely wounded draken. But he observed that the numbers coming at them were already increasing and they were barely halfway to Fenrir. Yet as the embattled army got closer to its gigantic goal, its pace speeded up. Then the Titan felt something strange and welcome – magic was returning to his body in a flood. The opportune flow invigorated his body.
A wolfish grin formed on his face, even as he skewered an incoming beast with the splintered half of his spear. Perses drew a long xiphos and held his shield closer. So far, the hoplites on both flanks took care of attacking drakene, and their momentum enabled the front to evade the brunt of the fanged storm. Yet, it was fleeting relief. It merely meant that the sides of the formation bore the savage brunt of the physical and elemental attacks. For a moment, it worried him. The defense afforded by enchanted aspides had limits. Every magical strike degraded its protection. But fighting while moving also had its advantages – it gave the drakene an elusive target.
Another draken horde flew from their rocky perches. Perses watched them as he continued to cut his way through the ones attacking the front of the column. Those wounded fell to the ground and became the subject of killing strikes by the following ranks. As he kept track, the new additions didn’t join the fighting. Instead, they landed ahead of the Titan’s army a few hundred feet away. It was what he was waiting for.
***
“Wedge!” he shouted.
It was an array Perses had not used during their long trek. Their route through narrow gullies and rocky terrain didn’t grant the opportunity, and they were in a defensive mode. Out here, on flat ground, with their objective in view, the formation was ideal. He doubted if the drakene expected the offensive array.
The army quickly compressed its ranks as flanks obliquely maneuvered forward to form the sides of an arrow. The leading soldiers of the outside columns joined the spearhead’s tip, which was now sporting a multitude of lowered lances. The Kýklōpes remained inside the triangle and some positioned themselves as the rearguard. Still, Perses could see the trail of weapons and armor of their fallen. Drakene were feasting on the bodies.
The midcourse change was a difficult maneuver, but his warriors have been fighting together continuously for a few days, and the entire force had bonded as one. Perses himself sensed that the replenishment of his magical energy was increasing the closer they got to Fenrir. A few minutes more and he’d be back to his old self, and the Titan could show their enemy what a deity of destruction could do.
To Hades with whatever magic they have, Perses told himself as anticipation grew at being able to let loose.
He assumed it was the same for his soldiers. The strength, resilience, and resistance that marked such magical beings would now be back. The deity laughed as his shield smashed into a draken’s head and the sword flashed, slicing the shoulder down to part of the wings.
Who would have thought our power would return when we got to Fenrir’s prison? reflected Perses ironically. It’s a twist worthy of a deity!
The forest of spears brutally pierced through the leading ranks of the waiting drakene. Some fell and others tore the lances from the hands of the Laestrygonians. Then the shields violently collided with waiting flesh, followed by the ominous hiss of swords being unsheathed. The noise was deafening. The shouts of the giant warriors mingled with the growls of attacking dragons. Slashing and ripping death added screams and dying roars to the mix.
Perses had remained behind the first rank. The waiting mass wasn’t an easy one to clear a way through, and he knew it could prove to be the fatal barrier to their progress. Their advantage as a moving target vanished. He could see draken jumping on hoplites and Kýklōpes alike. The beasts who had harried them earlier were arriving, putting pressure on the rearguard. In a short while, sheer numbers would overwhelm them.
Blood stained the ground and mutilated corpses of his soldiers and the drakene mingled in the flowing liquid. It was fast becoming a savage slugfest. Some parts of the formation had been reduced to isolated contests between outnumbered warriors and roaring, snapping drakene.
Time to bless the battlefield, he told himself.
A wave of massive force suddenly emanated from Perses, throwing back the scrambling drakene. At the same time, he gained mass and stature, towering over the battleground, easily tenfold his previous size. His long xiphos burst into flames, and deadly coruscations erupted among the ranks of their attackers. The crash of lightning bolts and the dark hiss of his fiery blade added to the deafening cacophony.
He stepped over the ranks of his fighters and swung the fiery weapon. It caught large numbers as it sliced through the reptilian mass. Those caught by its blade or touched by the burning flames dancing along its length were set alight. The Titan swiftly made his way around the formation, dealing flaming death and leaving smoldering pyres in his wake. Dispassionately, he noted that whatever magical defenses the enemy had didn’t matter to his massive burning blade.
The dragons at the rear of the horde started flying away from the deadly harvest. The tendrils of lightning followed them and clawed them back to the ground. Ash swirled in the air; a gory memento of the wholesale death dealt by the Titan. Then Perses sensed it. Three massively threatening magical sources had flown down and waited for them beyond the haze of ashes. He stood before the new arrivals; his vision diminished by the terrible swirling cloud of cinders. A signal to his army resulted in a circular defensive array. To his relief, he saw they had lost less than what he expected. But the battle wasn’t over.
***
The ancient deity faced the moving figures with a confidence he hadn’t felt since they arrived on the isle. His magical strength was back. He was whole again. Still, he had to exert a conscious effort to dampen his aura.
Perses assumed their enemy knew of the debilitating effect of the land on unfortunate guests. Whether the new arrivals understood the implication of the Titan standing on untainted earth was another matter. But he doubted if they knew of him. His long imprisonment in Tartarus would have seen to that detail.
Unless they’re the usual ancient drakontes, he reflected grimly, then I am Skylla bait. Too small. Make that Keto bait.
Three immense serpentine forms emerged from the swirling haze. The snake-like head, sinuous body, shining scales, and wings made it clear he was facing draconic beings. Of what kind, Perses wasn’t sure. They shared the usual features of the drakontes of Hellas, but he sensed they were of a different kind. Even a Titan long removed from the worlds of mortals and deities knew that the races and forms of dragons were many.
One had dark green and yellow coloration, the second was all gray, and the third, the largest, was ebony with splotches of a lighter black hue. The last had five prominent horns, while the other two had three each. The Titan assumed the protrusions were a mark of rank and focused on the third creature flanked by its companions. It helped that he could sense the ominous mass of magical energy emanating from it. He wondered if the entities before him also repressed signs of their power.
The trio stared at him. Perses didn’t expect any discourse. The many attacks throughout their journey already laid down the kind of relationship they desired. If there was a reason for such pause, the Titan assumed it was to size him up. He and his band of intruders had made it this far. It was enough to give pause to a prudent enemy.
The leader glanced at the dark green and yellow dragon. It bowed in reply and strode toward the vastly smaller Perses. It was going to be a one-on-one battle, though three such challenges awaited him if matters continued as they were. The deity smiled as he considered the curious fact that the creatures had a sense of honor. Though the Titan gave prayerful gratitude to Father Khaos for the reprieve. He doubted if he could handle all three at the same time.
The
n he reflected wryly on his invocation. His prison was an aspect of Khaos. The embodiment of such power even used the same name. An avatar who kept him and his brethren prisoners in that vast, dismal plane. He chuckled inwardly. What’s the use of being a god if one’s existence didn’t involve any metaphysical contradiction? That’s what gets mortals struck with awe and the appropriate confusion, leading to the desired veneration. Nothing strikes fear more among lower beings than fear of the unknown or unfathomable.
A moment of his attention was given to his army. The attacks have stopped since the emergence of the trio. The giants took the opportunity to dress their ranks and magically heal their wounded. A tight defensive circle now faced their watching enemies. The Titan noticed the lessened number of dorata bristling through the large shields.
Casualties had been high. He estimated a little more than a pentekostyes of the Laestrygonians and an enomotiai, or around forty, of the Kýklōpes remained—a far cry from the three lochos that landed on the island. The struggle had been a continuous, vicious odyssey. The only consolation was they had reached Fenrir.
At least what we came here to do is now possible, thought Perses, provided I could manage the archigós of these drakontes. But it seems I have to tangle with its bodyguards first.
***
The dragon approached at a fast clip, its size dwarfing the Titan’s sizeable stature. Perses grinned. He could feel the bloodlust within himself. There was nothing like the exhilaration of being in a duel. He got ready. His counter had to be fast. Perses couldn’t afford to give the trio time to adjust to the revelation that he was at full strength. The deity grinned, reflecting that the drakontes before him had never encountered a major Titan’s power.
A burst of magical energy, and he was riding the charging behemoth with his raised blade gripped with both hands. Only, he wasn’t that small anymore. Perses had added significant height and mass to his form and now approached a proportion nearly as large as the drakon. A quick, forceful stab down and the sword pierced the hard scales of the head, the tip of the blade extending past the lower jaw. The creature collapsed. A great crash and the billowing of numerous dust clouds heralded its demise.
The Titan instantly reappeared beside the gray drakon and a colossal armored hand grasped it by the throat. He had grown bigger again, to a size slightly larger than his victim. His arm muscles flexed, crushing the scaled, sinuous neck. Then a massive eruption of destructive power blasted its magical path to the hapless creature. The dragon couldn’t even make a sound. The crushed throat had seen to it.
The drakon’s body crackled with the infused energies and sparkling arcs of magic played along its entire length. The devastating damage was internal and Perses knew it was massive as the drakon suddenly became limp in his hand. Any protective barrier it had would have been shredded by the Titan’s magic. If the gray dragon had some life after its throat was crushed, the powerful energy surge would have burned and scrambled its internal organs.
Everything was a blur after the death of the gray. The leader quickly vanished and reappeared some distance away. Yet even as Perses considered the magical abilities of the black-scaled colossus, his other hand was already moving to throw Loki’s rune to the Great Wolf. The Titan’s new size and position had already brought him closer to the imprisoned deity. The now-awakened Fenrir had stood up and was watching the fight. Then the god copied the drakon’s move and swiftly reappeared in another spot closer to the captive Norse deity.
As he manifested in the new location, his eyes took on the sight of the rune tablet on the ground, giving off a soft bluish glow. Then the chain’s anchor on the enormous oak broke and fell. Fenrir merely gave him a quick glance and then looked in the direction of the drakon chieftain. The ebony entity had his attention on Perses and the Titan sensed the gathering of an incredible amount of magical power.
He made ready to shift to yet another position. The force he had felt was enough to hurt him badly. Any spell with that massive energy behind it was dangerous. Possibly lethal, but Perses had no wish to test its efficacy. Then the Great Wolf suddenly leaped and pounced on the unwitting and unprepared drakon.
Perses heard the noisy and dreadful crunch as the mammoth jaws clamped on the creature. Fenrir’s size made the drakon’s proportions irrelevant. It was akin to seeing a dog biting down on a rabbit. The victim didn’t even have the time to let out any sound of pain or surprise. Everything happened within an instant.
Then Fenrir turned to him, the drakon’s remains still wriggling in its mouth, and subsequently glanced at the still-glowing rune. A shocked silence had imposed itself on the valley in the interim, affecting attackers and defenders alike. Perses saw the light of the artifact had changed from blue to gold. He immediately turned to what remained of his forces and gave the signal to rush to the object’s spot.
As his army moved, it broke the stupefied state of the gathered drakon horde. The entire mass lifted from their perches and positions around the valley and headed their way. Perses moved to protect his forces and headed to the rear of the retreating column. Then a deep, rumbling growl stopped him.
“Join them. I’ll be with you shortly,” said the Great Wolf softly, the unnatural voice reverberating through the Titan’s body. Perses turned and followed his troops, now gathered around the rune in a defensive formation.
Aftermath
Fenrir faced the oncoming attackers. Perses had his doubts about the Great Wolf being able to handle such a multitude coming at them from all directions. The things darkened the sky. Only glimpses of the overcast heavens could be seen. The Titan wondered which was worse – the uncounted numbers heading their way or the relative silence of their approach. No threatening growls, malign screeches, or thundering snarls. Only the portentous rush of innumerable draconic wings beating the air.
The Great Wolf snarled and then howled continuously, turning a full circle, with its head directed at the flying horde. Perses felt a protective barrier settle above and around their small band of shields, screening them from the deadly effects of Fenrir’s action. The Titan saw a wall of sound bursting from the colossal animal, creating an ever-expanding ring around them. The airborne packs were forcibly blown back or crashed to the ground. Those nearest to the gigantic wolf were violently torn apart.
At that moment, the Titan wondered at the numbers he had seen. Their present attackers belonged to but one group or tribe if he was to go by the presence of one archigos. If there were more groups like this one, then the danger they represented was beyond belief. What was startling was the ability of their leaders and stronger members to wield magic. The drakontes of Hellas were few, though magic was part of their character. They didn’t breed like this kind.
Such numbers! thought the Titan grimly. And considering they had reduced my force to such a level, canny and savage killers. Any magical being is susceptible to their attacks—even a Titan.
Suddenly, a man with extremely long hair and a beard appeared beside Perses. He was of the same height as him, though the newcomer wore but a dirty loincloth. Yet despite the disagreeable appearance, he was muscled and looked fit. He didn’t look at the Titan as his gaze was still focused on the drakontes, many of which were already fleeing the valley.
It was Fenrir, concluded the Titan. The being’s effortless ability to approximate Perses’s size and instantly transport himself spoke volumes of the former’s power. But the deity of battle and destruction could feel the staggering hate and awful fury engulfing the figure. It was almost a physical cloud around the former prisoner.
“Apérkhomai!” shouted the man.
***
Their surroundings blurred, and the Titan had the sensation of a great wind passing them by. After a few seconds, Perses felt solid ground under his boots again. Then he could see where they were – a snowy clearing at the foot of tall mountains. North, his mind told him. They were back on the mainland, near the Dokkalfr Range.
He glanced at himself and then at Fenrir. Both of the
m had shrunk to a size a bit larger than a Laestrygonian. The shapeshifted wolf was gazing at the mountains and the sky, inhaling deeply all the time. The Titan let him be. A just freed prisoner needed it. Instead, Perses examined their surroundings and inspected the remnants of his army. They were still in their formation. His eyes searched for the artifact, and unsurprisingly, it was gone. A voice called his attention.
“A deity not of my pantheon, I have to thank for my freedom. Why is that?” asked Fenrir casually, still not looking at him.
“My erstwhile leader, Iapetus, and your father,” replied Perses, turning to his companion.
“Erstwhile?” came the query, though Fenrir still didn’t face him.
“Deposed. I have my reservations about the successor. Tartarus has also been sealed again. I can’t return even if I want to rejoin the Titans.”
“Titans.” The word was intoned, as if the speaker was mulling over what it meant.
“I’ve heard of your kind. And my thanks for rescuing me, despite the removal of the one who gave the order,” commented Fenrir. “That’s a debt I owe you.”
The former prisoner examined his legs and then stretched them.
“Gelgja is gone, and accursed Gleipnir has likewise disappeared,” muttered the entity, a wolfish smile now marking his features.
“Where to now, Fenrir? I gather your father is waiting for you,” said Perses.
A sudden aura of hate and malice exploded from Fenrir. Almost physical in nature, it bowled over the Laestrygonians and the Kýklōpes, breaking their ranks. Perses himself felt the buffeting wind of the wolf’s aura. It was hot, dark, and patently murderous.
The Accidental Archmage: Book Nine: The Dragon Houses Page 3