Karus took the opportunity to lunge. This elf was quicker, for he reacted rapidly and blocked the attack, pushing Karus’s blade aside. There was a loud crack. The elf reeled backward, as a black-fletched arrow had punched through his shoulder armor. The force of the missile had almost been enough to spin him completely around. Distracted, and in pain, he never even saw the attack coming as Karus’s sword plunged into the back of his leg. The elf screamed in agony and stumbled to a knee. With effort, he turned back around.
Karus wondered why the elf had not died outright, but did not let that stop him. He attacked again. The elf, hobbling and badly wounded, blocked his first strike, but not the second. Karus’s sword punched into and through the other’s throat. Hot blood sprayed out, coating his arm as the sword grated against the elf’s spine. The guard’s eyes rolled back in his head. He fell backward to the forest floor, quite dead.
Karus looked around for another threat. He saw more of the warden’s guards and rangers emerging from the trees and joining the fight. The warden, however, was nowhere to be seen. Karus felt immense frustration. She had slipped away.
There was another blast of flame, followed by screams of agony. He glanced upward toward where he expected the dragons to be, for he could hear the flapping of their great wings as they beat on the air. Karus stopped, his jaw falling open. These weren’t his dragons. They were wyrms, and there were four of them, hovering just above the treetops.
Arrows arced up at the wyrms from the rangers and black-clad elves down below, even as they fought amongst one another. A wyrm breathed fire back, fully engulfing several of the warden’s rangers. They screamed horribly as they died, one running off into the forest on fire, leaving a trail of burning leaves in his wake.
Knotted ropes began dropping from the backs of two of the wyrms. The ends of the ropes fell almost to the forest floor, and as they did, orcs began to shimmy downward. He considered that perhaps it had not been the warden Amarra had sensed. He felt a sudden dread as he watched the wyrms unloading dozens of orc warriors, who were rapidly shimmying down the ropes toward the raging battle below.
The Horde had come.
Karus tightened his grip upon Rarokan. There was no doubt in his mind what they wanted. At first, Karus wasn’t quite sure what to do. Then he spotted the warden, thirty yards away, by the massive trunk of a tree. She was ringed by guards.
Frustrated yet again that she was for the moment out of reach, his thoughts went to Amarra. He looked around. She was still lying where she had dropped. Putting the warden from his mind, he rushed over to her and found her stirring slightly. He rolled her onto her back. There was an ugly welt upon her right temple. It bled a little. Her eyes fluttered open. She looked up at him and blinked, thoroughly confused. Relief flooded Karus at seeing she was not seriously injured. He quickly checked her for any additional wounds. He did not find any.
The noise of the fight increased. He glanced around, quickly scanning the area about them. He saw the first wave of orcs had reached the ground. They had joined the growing battle, which was now a three-way fight. It was loud, violent, brutal, and ugly, just what Karus had come to expect from war.
“We need to get out of here,” Karus said, turning his attention back to Amarra and helping her to sit up. “You need to get up. We need to move, okay? Do you understand me?”
“What?” Amarra’s eyes rolled back into her head. Karus gave her a little shake. When that did not have the desired effect, he shook her harder. She blinked and refocused on him. “What? Karus, what’s going on?”
An arrow zipped by above his head and struck an orc just three feet away and to his right, felling the creature instantly. The arrow had punched clean through the armored helmet. Karus straightened as a second orc approached.
The orc was at least seven feet tall, with bulging arm muscles. The creature’s skin was a dark green. Its armor included a solid-looking chest plate and helmet. The chest plate was plain, without any ornamentation, and, in Karus’s estimation, poorly made, but that did not make it any less effective.
The helmet was of the same poor quality. It covered much of the face and head almost in its entirety, with only little holes for the ears and a thin slit for the eyes. Karus could hear the creature’s ragged breathing through the helmet as it closed the last few feet.
Beyond the chest plate and helmet, the orc wore no other armor, just black leather pants and old boots that had long since seen their prime. The boots had numerous holes. Karus could even see several hairy toes poking through.
More concerning to Karus was the orc’s sword. It was a long, curved blade that, combined with the creature’s size, meant it had the advantage on him in reach. The orc carried the sword in its left hand. It had an oval wooden shield that was almost the size of a legionary’s in the other. The shield, like the orc’s boots, had seen better days. It was dented and chipped. Several nails were exposed where a repair had been made.
He absorbed all this in a flash. Judging by the orc’s appearance, Karus came to the conclusion it had poor discipline, for a soldier should care for his equipment above all else. The question in his mind was now on skill. Was the orc a skilled fighter? In Karus’s experience, discipline did not always count toward skill. Karus thought the creature had a mean look to it.
Gritting his teeth in determination, he stepped around Amarra to meet the orc, who rushed the last five feet to him. It bashed out with its shield. Karus dodged to the right, barely avoiding the shield and the stroke from the sword that followed. He jabbed at the orc, who danced away, his sword point only managing to scrape against his opponent’s side armor.
The orc swung out again with the shield in an attempt to knock him senseless. Karus was forced to dodge. The orc followed up with a slashing attack that almost decapitated him. Karus took two steps back to gain some space. The orc followed as Karus stepped back several more steps.
The creature laughed at him. It said something in a guttural language and then thumped its chest armor with its sword arm. Karus lunged forward, jabbing at a spot just underneath the orc’s armor. The move caught the creature by surprise. He felt the sword plunge into the orc’s belly and strike bone beyond. Karus heard a sizzling sound. The orc stiffened, exhaled a last breath, and then dropped. As the orc fell, the sword came free. The blade was coated in green blood. The blood blackened before his eyes, smoking and hissing loudly as it boiled off the steel, which burned in blue, soundless fire.
It was such a remarkable sight that Karus actually stopped to watch the last of the blood boil away. Another arrow zipped past, and he abruptly remembered he was in the middle of a fight. He turned back to Amarra. She was still sitting up and looking about, dazed. She reached for her staff. The move seemed more habit than anything else. At her touch, the staff flashed brilliantly with light, and her eyes, which a moment before had been somewhat clouded and uncertain, cleared instantly. She sucked in a startled breath that was part gasp and scrambled to her feet.
There was another blast of dragon fire and more elves burned a few yards off to Karus’s right. It caused him to duck. He moved back to Amarra and glanced quickly around. Elves and orcs were engaged in a confused fight that had spread out about them. Karus estimated that at least sixty orcs were on the ground, with a smaller number of elves. More orcs were joining the fight as they climbed down the ropes from the hovering wyrms above. Karus looked up toward the wyrms. Orcs swarmed over their backs as they waited their turn to go down the ropes.
Seeing the sheer number of orcs clustered onto the wyrms’ backs, Karus knew they were in serious trouble. It was time to think about fleeing, for he knew he could trust neither the elves nor the orcs. Karus searched for the warden. He had unfinished business with her and she with him. The warden was nowhere to be seen.
He spotted several of the black-clad elven warriors back toward the tree line. They had bows and were raining death into the battle, striking both the orcs and the warden’s guards. There were a few of the black-clad
warriors mixed in the fight. One of them waved for him and then shouted something that Karus could not understand due to the din of the fight.
There was a sudden brilliant flash of green light that arced up into the air from the forest floor. The fighting seemed to pause as the light struck one of the dragons hovering above. All heads turned upward. The wyrm screamed in agony. A heartbeat later, it ceased its flapping and fell, crashing through the canopy of branches. Karus had a fleeting glimpse of dozens of orcs clinging to its back as the wyrm plummeted ground-ward. It slammed into the forest floor, crushing half a dozen elves and orcs underneath it. Those orcs clinging to the creature’s back were thrown violently clear. The ground trembled with the impact.
A stunned moment of silence followed, then an orc roared a battle cry and the fight was back on. The three remaining wyrms began frantically beating at the air, pulling away. One trailed several orcs dangling from ropes and holding on for dear life. An orc hanging from one rope was dragged into a thick branch. He lost his grip and fell, screaming all the way down to the forest floor, where he impacted the ground with a sickening thump.
Karus spotted the warden. It was from her that the green light had emanated. She had been responsible for the blast that had brought the wyrm down. He blinked. She was alone and striding his way, walking calmly through the battle as if she were out for a pleasant stroll on a spring day.
The green sphere was back up and her gaze was focused solely on Karus. An orc turned to face her. Without pausing, a green jet of light shot out from her hand toward the creature. The orc arched its back, crying out, and then collapsed, falling dead. The warden had not broken stride, but kept coming. Karus went to move Amarra behind him, but she resisted.
“Despite evil men … and women, let us hold to the hope, for she who promised is faithful,” Amarra said quite calmly, clearly quoting scripture. “We must face her. She is possessed of an evil heart. I think we do this together.”
“That witch must die,” Karus said, pointing his sword toward the warden. He felt the rage burn within him. The blade matched it with a roaring blue fire that licked and snapped silently at the air.
“We have to kill her,” Amarra said and tightened her grip upon the staff. “We cannot allow her to live, for she will not rest until she has the sword.”
The warden came within ten feet, then abruptly ground to a halt as Tal’Thor appeared out of nowhere and stepped before her, barring her path. Weaponless, he held a hand up, palm faced toward the warden.
The warden regarded him a moment and said something in the Elven tongue that sounded very much like a command. Karus supposed the warden had ordered him to stand aside. Tal’Thor replied and shook his head. The warden raised a hand and pointed a finger at the ranger.
It was as if a great hand had picked Tal’Thor up into the air. He remained there suspended about three feet above the forest floor, his feet kicking in free space. The warden made a sweeping gesture with her hand off to the right. Tal’Thor went flying through the air, where he collided solidly with a tree. The elf slid down the side of the trunk, landing in a tumble of arms and legs. He did not get up.
“No!” Si’Cara screamed from halfway across the fight. She finished off the orc she was engaged with and then ran toward them, weaving between combatants.
Karus remained focused on the warden. He could see the maddened rage in her eyes, for she smiled at them and laughed as if what she had done was no big thing. She was clearly confident in her ability to take them. That much was clear to Karus.
She held her hand out and Karus knew that she was about to strike. He stepped forward, holding up the sword like he had been told and praying it worked like it had before. The warden saw what he was doing and laughed even harder. A deep-seated dread settled over him.
Karus suddenly had a flash of Si’Cara out of his peripheral vision. She was running toward them. The warden did not see her. Si’Cara slid to a stop and came down on one knee, scooping up her bow and an arrow. In a fluid motion that was incredibly fast, she raised the bow, nocking the arrow, and loosed. Karus expected the arrow to shatter like the others, but as it impacted the green sphere, there was an incredible cracking noise, followed by a deep crump. The shield collapsed, and with it, the warden was thrown violently to the ground. At first, Karus could not understand what had just happened, and then it hit him. Si’Cara had used the last penetrator she had taken from the guardhouse.
The warden picked herself up off the ground. Her lip was split, and her hair was disheveled. There was an ugly bruise forming along her cheek and her right arm hung at an awkward angle, clearly broken. Looking somewhat shaken, she staggered a step toward them.
Karus realized this was his chance. Before he could move, Si’Cara nocked another arrow and released. It struck the warden squarely in the side, punching into her torso. Surprise registered on the warden’s face, and a moment later the pain hit. The warden screamed as she looked down on the arrow protruding from her side. The scream was both from pain and outrage. Her good hand went for the missile protruding from her side, but before she could reach it, a second arrow appeared, this one driving through her chest and emerging out her back. The warden grunted with the impact. She looked over at Si’Cara, who was lowering her bow.
Si’Cara’s expression was cold. And yet a solitary tear ran from her left eye. Whether that was for the woman she had once served or for her husband, Karus did not know. The bow fell from her hand, as did her remaining arrows.
Blood trickled from the warden’s mouth and nose. Si’Cara stood and calmly walked over. The warden’s face contorted in rage. She raised her hand toward the ranger. It shook violently. Nothing happened. Si’Cara batted the hand away, pulled out her dagger, and stepped in close, as a lover might. In the blink of an eye, she slit the warden’s throat from ear to ear, then stepped back.
The warden choked and blinked, looking at the blood running down her chest. The strength seemed to fail her legs. She fell onto her knees, remained there but a moment, and then collapsed forward onto her face. She lay twitching her last amongst the moss and fallen leaves.
Si’Cara gazed down on the warden a moment and then spat upon her body. All around them, the warden’s elves gave up a cry of dismay at the falling of their leader. It was almost like they could physically sense her demise. As if at a silent signal, those elves who had been fighting the elven warriors in black backed away and broke off their fight. Then they joined their fellows and turned with a fury upon the remaining orcs. The black-clad elves joined them. No more did elf seek the murder of elfkind.
Somehow, the wyrms must have known the warden was no longer a threat, for two of them appeared overhead, hovering over the fight. From one of the wyrms, ropes were once again dropped to the ground. Orc reinforcements began lowering themselves into the fight raging below. A number of elves with bows began loosing arrows up at the orcs shimmying down. Several were hit and fell, screaming, before the first orc reinforcement reached the ground.
The other wyrm, having already dropped its load of orcs, began lowering itself into the canopy, claws gripping and tearing into the bark of the tree as it climbed down toward the ground below. The trees in this forest were so large, it could not knock them down. It was clear the wyrm intended to join the battle raging below the thick canopy of branches.
As if in shock and sorrow, Si’Cara, ignoring the fight still raging around them, turned her gaze to Tal’Thor, lying in a heap at the base of the tree. An orc rushed at Amarra, swinging his sword down at her. Karus stepped in front of her and brought his sword up, blocking the strike. The two swords met with the ringing clang that set his hand tingling. It seemed to shake Si’Cara free. She jumped upon the orc’s back and drove her dagger deep into the side of the orc’s neck. Green blood sprayed over Karus’s face. He tasted the copper tang in his mouth.
“Karus, look out,” Amarra screamed. He turned just in time to block a sword from skewering him in the side. The orc bashed at Karus with its shie
ld. It connected with his right side, knocking him back and roughly away. The blow hurt, and badly. He shook himself in an attempt to shake the pain off and stepped back toward the orc, meeting its blade once again with another ringing clang.
The orc abruptly stiffened as an arrow unexpectedly emerged through its neck from behind. The creature grabbed at the arrow and snapped the end off, even as hot blood sprayed out into the air. The orc stumbled a couple of steps, tottered a moment, and then fell over on its side.
Karus did not know where the arrow had come from, but he was grateful to whoever had loosed it. He glanced around and saw no more orcs close enough to be considered an immediate threat. Now that they were no longer fighting amongst themselves, the elves were doing a superb job of killing those orcs that remained. The wyrm was almost to the ground. Once it got down, Karus understood the elves would have a difficult, if not impossible, time dealing with the dragon. He could not begin to imagine how to take such a creature down.
The elves were shooting arrows at the dragon. The arrows bounced off the armored hide and seemed to have no measurable effect. Si’Cara ran to Tal’Thor, with Amarra following close behind.
Karus glanced briefly over at the warden. Blood had pooled around her body, seeping into the carpet of leaves and green moss. He was relieved she was gone, finished. With no one nearby to fight, Karus did not want to go near any of the elves. There was no telling how they might react to the death of the warden. For all he knew, they might try to kill him as the warden had intended. Karus had no idea where Dennig had gone. The dwarf was nowhere in sight. So he followed after Si’Cara and Amarra. He would focus on keeping himself and Amarra alive.
From behind, there was a blast of flame, followed by screams. The heat from the blast pushed back against the chill of the forest air. A roar from a dragon sounded from above. It was different, deeper than the wyrms’. Another gout of flame blasted down. There was a replying scream, but this one of incredible pain.
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