Book 8: Chapter 17 |
I TOOK A QUICK LOOK around the fort. We had two archers stationed on every wall except the northern one. Plus two archers in each tower. Down below, the men from Chevalier Duval’s unit were using their spears to help finish off any rats that jumped down from the top of the wall. The healer and his assistant, along with Gunnar, Jacob, and the peasants from his village, were frantically pulling bundles of provisions, packs of arrows, and all sorts of other stuff off the wagons and bringing it into the keep. Apparently, everybody knew exactly where this battle might be headed.
We also had three Glenns stationed on the observation platform atop the keep, who were firing arrow after arrow into the darkness beyond the walls. And judging by the desperate shrieks coming from that darkness, almost every shot they fired was claiming a victim.
On the northern wall, where almost all our forces were concentrated, the battle was already almost over. All the smaller scroggs had been slaughtered. Two of the “Savages” had impaled one of the larger ones on their spears, leaving its corpse hanging from the edge of the wall. The huge number of arrows stuck in its body made it look like a big, bristling hedgehog. Once their magical shields were down, the big bastards turned out to be just as vulnerable as their smaller brethren.
The magical shield protecting the leader (who wasn’t actually a leader at all; it was merely a beta in the pack, at most) was still active, but already on its last legs. Sigurd had pressed the big gray monster back against the wall with a series of lightning-quick blows, and had simultaneously managed to deny it any room for maneuver as he did so. Georg von Linz was backing Sigurd up from the left, while Elsa Backer and Leo did so from the left.
Having apparently realized that it wouldn’t be able to do anything against such a powerful onslaught, the gray scrogg let out a threatening hiss as it tried to turn around and flee. Alas, its magical shield chose that precise moment to flicker one last time and disappear. A second later, Sigurd’s sword plunged deep into its body, followed by the spears of the strykers fighting at his side.
Several dozen shouts of victory rang out along the walls. Despite beating the first wave, though, there was no way we could hold the entire length of the walls with such a small number of archers at our disposal. It was only a matter of time before the beasts made it into the fort, and once they were inside, the Glenns wouldn’t have anything to protect themselves from their claws and teeth.
“Everybody into the keep!” I shouted loudly. People behind me began repeating the command. “Hurry up!”
The Glenns started retreating as soon as they heard the order. Pausing only long enough to fire one last arrow, they quickly left their positions on the walls and towers, although not before taking their dead and wounded with them. Any defenders who had fallen so far during the fight were brought straight into the keep. I knew that at least a few of the “dead” could probably still be saved.
The strykers and shapeshifters were the last to retreat, and they only did so after covering the archers’ withdrawal into the keep. Duval and his mages were heading down the stairs as well.
The fire fairy didn’t respond, but I had no doubt at all that she would be in position within a few seconds. She wouldn’t have missed a fight like this for the world.
There was no point in trying to keep the presence of my first-born concealed from Duval and his people any longer. They would see the fayret’s attack with their own eyes soon enough, and it wouldn’t be the sort of thing I could simply write off as a lucky accident.
“Leo,” I said as I noticed that the young man clearly intended to stay by my side. “Your mission is to prevent these beasts from getting into the keep. Move it!”
If Leo was unhappy about this order, he was trying very hard not to show it. I had helped him shed that bad habit quite a while before. And look, I thought — he hops right to it, trying to carry out my orders as fast as he possibly can. Looking at him, you’d never guess he was annoyed about the order at all.
Meanwhile, the hisses and shrieks already sounded like they were coming from right outside the wall, along with a rapid clattering sound and the muffled thump of frequent blows. The first scroggs had started climbing up the palisade. Very soon, the beasts would be inside the fort.
I turned around, switched to true vision, and looked across the fortress grounds. They were empty... Or at least the northern side was. Nevertheless, the first pack had served its purpose: it had pulled all our strength to the northern wall, and thereby weakened our defenses everywhere else.
The only thing the as-yet-unseen commander of the scroggs seemed not to have expected was the fact that we had wiped out the first wave remarkably quickly.
Looking up, my eyes met those of Sigurd and Georg, who were standing next to me. Behind them were several shapeshifters, who had resumed their human forms.
“Make sure everybody’s inside,” I said as I turned to the strykers. “I’m going to find out where the bastard who’s running this whole operation is hiding.”
Both men nodded silently, then took off quickly toward the stairs. The werewolves followed.
Meanwhile, I ran over to one of the corner watchtowers, jumped down from the wall, and leapt across to the other side of the fort in a few big, magic-fueled jumps. Two archers came running to meet me as soon as they stepped down from the stairs.
“They’ve already started climbing,” one of the Glenns informed me (which confirmed my suspicions).
“Take position inside the keep,” I quickly commanded, before turning and lunging into another long jump.
In the blink of an eye, I hopped up the staircase in two big jumps and froze at the top of the southern wall.
The moon was shining its pale light down on the wall’s big wooden beams, where a number of scroggs were already midway through their ascent. Their gray, wiry bodies flitted through the darkness like strange shadows. The hissing was growing louder all the time, and the scratching of claws against wood was extremely unpleasant to hear. The beasts were terrifyingly close.
A little to the left, a few heads popped up above the edge of the wall, their lilac eyes shining hungrily in the moonlight. I heard a few muffled twangs from bowstrings behind me, and in an instant the scroggs’ heads disappeared behind the wall again, this time with arrow shafts sunk deep into their eye sockets. The Glenns on the observation deck obviously weren’t asleep on the job.
Rodent heads started popping up on all sides, and the clicking and twanging of bowstrings grew more and more frequent. A horrible, indignant hissing sound was coming from outside the wall, accompanied by the shrieking of wounded beasts as they slammed to the ground after falling from the wall.
Several monsters emerged from the darkness right across from where I was standing. A few lilac mana-fueled strokes of my sword, however, sent their decapitated bodies plummeting back onto the ground.
I still hadn’t used any golden mana. I was spending borrowed energy from my bruts. Nor had I used any webs. I didn’t want to pull the ace out of my sleeve (and thus display it to our enemy) any earlier than I had to. I could positively feel the rat commander’s penetrating stare on me as I fought. Where are you, I wondered? Where are you hiding?
I lunged from side to side, trying to conserve mana, as the cuts and thrusts of my sword continued to knock the smaller scroggs off the beams in the wall. The rats were moving much more slowly than me, so I actually had a chance to scan the darkness out in front of the wall.
With covering fire from the archers on the keep, I was actually managing to keep the attackers at bay for the time being. I knew, of course, that I wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long — sooner or later, the wave of beasts would inevitably surge across the wall. When they did, though, they would find another unpleasant surprise waiting for them.
There were very few scroggs left in the grass out in front of the wall. Most of the pack was already in plain sight. Even the betas, who were conspicuous by their gray fur and their larger size, were all visible by that point.
Overall, it looked like there were roughly about 200 beasts attacking the walls of our fort. Twenty of these were the gray “courtiers” that seemed to be commanded directly by the overall leader. All that remained was to find out where that leader was.
The monsters were moving quickly and remorselessly forward, like a big, dense, hissing wave. The wind was blowing toward me, carrying a foul stench. It was thick and heavy, like rotting flesh mixed with stagnant water and mildew. There was something wild and animalistic about it — I could smell wet fur, blood, and a dampness that never dried. It was the kind of smell that makes people hold their nose and turn away instinctively. What the hell kind of sewer did all these rats crawl out of, I wondered?
Finally, however, my search bore fruit. The leader jumped out of the shadows, its white fur glowing softly in the moonlight. The enormous rat was standing on its hind legs, which made it look like some kind of strange, wiry bear whose fur was standing on end. Its long, clawed forepaws were strung with thick knots of muscle, and they were so long that they almost touched the ground. Apparently, the legendary white scrogg had decided to pay us a visit.
It was a little bigger than its comrades, and its movements were smooth and confident — very much those of an animal that knows its own strength. Its glowing purple eyes had the spark of reason in them, but they were also filled with icy, rage-filled hatred as they stared back at me. For a moment, the beast just froze as it sized up the situation, but then it let out a prolonged hiss. At that, its gray-furred entourage stepped out to surround it. The leader itself was preparing to attack the fort.
Just as I had hoped...
A second later, the entire massive group took off running toward the wall and came into the range of my scanner. What I saw came as a big surprise. Not only did the white scrogg have a three-colored reservoir — its system was also remarkable both in terms of size and saturation. In addition to lilac and scarlet, it had an amber brut pulsing brightly inside its chest. That meant we had a poisonous beast on our hands.
The Glenns spotted the leader too. A swarm of angry arrows hissed out toward the huge white rat. Unsurprisingly, though, they didn’t do any damage at all. Besides its own magical shield, the leader also had a whole entourage of gray rats around it. Several of the latter actually jumped into the air and blocked the death-dealing projectiles with their own bodies.
Meanwhile, the wall was crowded with the bodies of the smaller scroggs, and the wood had grown slick with their blood. The walkway was literally piled with bloody carcasses and slippery innards. I had killed some of them myself, and the archers had taken out the rest.
Once I was sure that the white-furred leader wasn’t planning to retreat, I chopped down one more scrogg as it leapt toward me and then raced for the staircase.
Two jumps, and I was already inside the main courtyard. Standing at the base of the keep, I watched as a thick, gray wall of overgrown rats began to pour over the wall.
“Ignia!” I shouted. “Get ready! But wait for my order! And don’t even think about spending all your mana!”
One nice thing about the fayret’s magical fire was that it was much deadlier and more destructive than normal fire, and yet it always remained completely under its creator’s control. That meant there was no risk of setting fire to the fort. The fiery monster would devour only those things (and creatures) that Ignia told it to.
Even from where I stood, I could sense her impatience and excitement. She was ready to launch the full weight of her fire into her enemies. I could feel the heat even from where I stood down below. Another instant, and she might lose control completely. But I knew we needed to wait for the right moment.
Most importantly, she would need to avoid emptying her entire reservoir. The lunari was responsible for making sure that didn’t happen.
Unfortunately, Vaira wasn’t there with us. When she and the fayret worked together, they could do things that were truly mind-bending — one of their fire tornadoes, for example, would have been really handy.
The gray mass of scroggs poured over the wall like a dense river, rushing rapidly toward the inner courtyard where I was standing.
Their sharp claws scratched up the ground as their lilac eyes burned with a single, basic desire: to reach us and rip us to pieces. The hissing, shrieking, and wailing was now coming from all sides. Every step forward strengthened the power of the pack and turned its movement into an avalanche of chaos and death.
The little beasts were shooting toward me across the ground, each hoping to be the first to sink its fangs into my flesh. The leader’s gray entourage was following close behind — their bodies were already vibrating from the magical power surging through their energy systems.
The leader picked up speed. I caught its burning gaze, focused squarely on me. It had no intention of yielding its rightful prey to any of its smaller comrades.
The beast was moving with surprising speed, given its massive frame. Every muscle in its long, wiry body was as tense as a guitar string. Apparently, the leader had already singled me out as the main trophy, and it was planning to finish its hunt with a single, lethal attack.
Its entourage tried to stay in front of it, but so strong was the big beast’s desire to punish the insolent biped that it kept racing forward without paying them any attention.
The Glenns were showering the beasts with arrows, but there was no way their fire could stop the deadly wave. Just as the pack reached the middle of the courtyard, with their white leader out in front, I roared out a loud command:
“Ignia! Now!”
The fayret didn’t make me wait long. A deafening roar exploded out from the top of the keep, followed a second later by a bright red wave of fire that thundered down onto the ground.
The fire wasn’t moving chaotically at all; it was obviously following the movements of its enemies and seeking out victims from among the scroggs with lightning-quick ferocity. The blinding wave of heat rolled across the courtyard, winding its way carefully around the wooden walls and structures in its path. I could sense its power; it somehow seemed distant. The fayret’s magic was obeying her every command.
The scroggs kept trying to dodge it, but their speed was no help against the murderous squall of flame. The fire devoured the smaller beasts in the blink of an eye, leaving nothing but piles of ash with little lilac crystals pulsing inside them. Screams of fear and pain soon drowned out all the other noises in the air.
The larger beasts managed to fight on for somewhat longer by using their magic, but their mana reservoirs soon began to run dry. As soon as their shields fell, the fire tore into their bodies with such power that even their bones were carbonized in a matter of seconds. The entire courtyard soon filled with heat and smoke, but Ignia maintained her control, and the elemental fire submitted to her like a tamed animal.
After a few seconds, the wave of fire disappeared, leaving big swathes of ash and a thick curtain of smoke. Here and there, individual shadows, crazed with fear and pain, were still flitting about in this smoke like silhouettes in the fog. These pathetic, wounded survivors were all that was left of the once-mighty horde of the white scrogg. Try as I might, the dense cluster of magic emanations from the fire spell prevented my scanner from picking up any trace of the huge beast’s energy system. I knew, however, that the beast had most likely met the same fate as most of its underlings. I had certainly seen the wave of magical fire engulf the leader and its entourage.
“Son of bitch...” I hissed through gritted teeth.
I had lost contact with Ignia. Which probably meant that she had lost consciousness. Once again, she had failed to heed my instructions and poured all the mana from her reservoir into the attack.
The shrieking and hissing of wounded scroggs was soon joined by victorious shouts from my people in the keep. A moment later, I heard muffled footsteps running up to me from behind. I figured that Sigurd and Georg had already led the strykers out to mop up. Bowstrings began to twang again from above; that, of course, was the Glenns, taking out the wounded rats.
I turned around. Sure enough, it was just as I had suspected. All the mages in our unit were standing about ten steps behind me.
Sigurd, Georg and I exchanged a quick glance, and I nodded in the direction of the smoke-shrouded walls.
“I’ll take south, you take west! Monsieur...”
I turned to Duval, who was also standing there, looking around in amazement at the scene.
“I remember you mentioning a hunt. The east wall’s yours.”
A slightly-nervous, but genuinely satisfied smile spread on the stryker’s face.
“With pleasure, Your Lordship!”
The strykers didn’t even have time to disperse before a shout of warning echoed down from above:
“Watch out!”
An instant later, an enraged hiss rent the air from behind my back.
I whirled around. The leader was badly burned and disfigured by the flames, but there could still be no doubt that this was him. With a roar of pain and fury, the beast rushed toward us. Its hide was blackened, even carbonized in places, and thick, partially-reduced blood was oozing out of its wounds.
The scrogg’s one remaining eye was filled with an insane bloodlust. Its body was shaking from the tension, and every movement it made was obviously causing it extreme pain, but it kept barreling toward me nonetheless. Even the arrows sinking into its back from above couldn’t stop the monster.
“Back!” I shouted at the strykers who rushed to help me. “Its bite is poisonous!”
The leader jumped, and its claws crunched into the scorched earth with a loud crack, right in the spot where I had been standing a moment before. It let out a prolonged moan of disappointment. That jump had obviously cost it the very last ounce of its strength.
The scrogg’s huge paws were shaking, and its breathing had grown hoarse and ragged. And yet still, it tried to carry on the attack. But I wasn’t going to let that happen.
A quick lunge, and my gleaming purple blade plunged into the beast’s side; a moment later, it sank through its heart. The scrogg’s paws went limp, and the beast collapsed to the ground with a thud. After a few convulsions, the beast was dead on the ground.
* * *
A swaying sea of grass stretched out around me on all sides as I rode Storm through the foothills. The wind whipped and rustled the tall grass as it danced across the plain. Together with my unit (which now consisted of the strykers, ten Glenns, and five shapeshifters), I had left the fort behind and set off for Bone Grotto. Along the way, we would still have to check out the prospectors’ camp that the scroggs had destroyed. It seemed vanishingly unlikely that anyone had survived, but I still felt like I had to see the place with my own eyes.
Once we completed our scan of the camp, the Glenns and werewolves would head back to the fort, where they would wait for the rest of us to return. Meanwhile, the mages and I would continue to Shadow Pass on foot. After all, nobody but a stryker would be able to get inside anyway. For the same reason, Ignia and Selina had also remained back at the fort.
Several days had passed since we fought off the scroggs, and we had spent those days conducting funerals, healing our wounded, collecting trophies, repairing the fort, and preparing for the next stage of our campaign.
That night had taken the lives of three Glenns, whom we buried according to their traditions. Each of them had a family back on the Islands, whose welfare would be my personal responsibility from then on. I announced this for all to hear at the appropriate time during the services. True, I don’t think there was really a need for that. My people already knew what I was going to do.
The rest of the soldiers got away with wounds of varying severity. Several of them were back on their feet the very next day, but some of the others would be on cots in the healers’ tent for quite a long time.
Besides the hides, bones, and organs from the scroggs, the battle also yielded almost 200 bruts of different colors and sizes. Most of them were lilac. I divided them evenly among the strykers, who after all would still have to pass through the Barrier and spend an indeterminate amount of time in the Shadow. Vestonian law didn’t require me to divide the spoils evenly, but nevertheless I promised all our men a cash payout equivalent to an equal share of the bruts (something I had already promised, and delivered, on several earlier occasions).
Alas, most of the lilac and scarlet crystals in the bodies of the scroggs were nearly depleted. The beasts had been using their mana at full steam when they died. That said, the apple-sized amber brut we pulled from the leader’s torso was stuffed to the brim with energy. The same, unfortunately, couldn’t be said for the lilac and scarlet crystals in its chest. Both of them had essentially been running on fumes. Then again, of course, it would have been this energy that allowed the white scrogg to survive Ignia’s fire attack.
It took the fayret a full 24 hours to recover after that night. She had overexerted herself, and I gave her a dressing-down for doing so, but I also made sure to express my gratitude. The fight would have been much, much harder without her. We would certainly have survived, of course, but the cost would have been immense... We would have had to conduct a lot more funerals.
Emerging for a moment from my recollections, I glanced up at the darkening anomaly in the distance, whose proximity was already generating familiar feelings of pressure and anxiety within my chest. Most likely, we would be crossing the Barrier by the evening of the following day... And after that, we would finally reach Bone Grotto and discover its secret...