Chapter 30, Rescue
Aristomus paced back and forth atop the Hall of Elders. Unused to such inaction, he burned to know what happened outside the gates. Despite the elevation, heavy smoke and the wall’s height combined to obstruct what occurred outside Herrenbourn.
A tremendous explosion rocked the night. Though some distance away, the blast still shook the massive building. Aristomus stumbled, catching himself by grabbing the sill of the bell tower. A second detonation followed a few seconds later.
“By the Power!” he gasped. “That came from the front lines. The Dread are attacking!” Turning to a soldier, he ordered, “Get me to the gates! I must see if I am to help!”
The white-faced soldier lowered the ladder and helped the old mage to the ground. “Stay here,” Aristomus ordered. “I will return as soon as I may.” Before the soldier could argue, Aristomus heard his name called. Adam’s face peered over the edge of the rooftop across the street. “I go to aid the gates,” he shouted. “Remain here.” Adam opened his mouth to protest, but the mage didn’t wait for a response. He already sprinted down the darkened street toward the gates.
As he neared the wall, a third explosion sounded. The giants stationed at the battlement atop the wall fired arrows at the ground below. Aristomus struggled to climb the switchback staircase. Designed for giants, the stairs made for an arduous ascent and left him breathless by the time he arrived. Peering over the wall, he found a scene out of nightmares.
Hundreds of Unsouled filled the churned grounds between the wall and tree line. Many had fallen, dispatched by the archers above, and were ground underfoot as more of the creatures pushed forward. Some had already reached the gates. They clawed at the heavy timbers, their fingers twisting and breaking as they tried to follow their master’s compulsion.
All this Aristomus registered and discarded in moments. A second, smaller conflict drew his eyes from the roiling chaos below. Two giants, surrounded by Unsouled on all sides, fought for their lives a short distance away. Craigen and Torlaine!
Just then, three Dread appeared from among the trees. Arms raised, their ebony power flowed, swallowing the ground in stygian darkness.
A giant grabbed his arm and spun the mage around. Colburne, Torlaine’s lieutenant cried, “Help them!”
“You do not understand!” Aristomus shouted. “The Dread have linked. One alone I may hazard, but three? I cannot!”
The giant clenched his teeth in frustration. “I know only Captain Torlaine will die. Without her, the Dark Mage has won already! You must try!”
Faced with an impossible situation, Aristomus nodded. “I will do all I can to distract the Dread. But you must rescue Craigen and the Captain.” Face grim, he emphasized, “Do not delay. I cannot hold their attention for long.”
Colburne dipped his head in acknowledgement and turned to gather his companions. With a deep breath, Aristomus turned back to the fray, raising his staff. As he summoned the Power, the Dreads’ ebony shadow closed over the two giants and they vanished, swallowed up as though they never existed.
“No!” he screamed. Lightning cracked from the tip of his staff and he launched a scorching bolt at the three Dread. They shrugged it aside as though his power meant nothing—a pesky gnat to brush away without a second thought. But his volley served its purpose. In deflecting the mage’s attack, the Dread had to lessen their support for the Unsouled. The shadowy darkness faded and withdrew.
A quick volley of arrows cleared a small area at the base of the wall. Five giants rappelled down, swords free as soon as their feet touched the ground. With wild swings, they sliced their way toward the besieged giants.
Aristomus managed one quick blast at the Unsouled surrounding Craigen and Torlaine, enabling the two giants to regain their feet. Then he had to face the Dread once again. Their dark power swelled until it felt like stinging insects swarming against his face. When they released it, Aristomus went white with shock. A crackling black orb the size of a small house hurtled toward him. Such power would kill not only him but would obliterate the gate and all who defended it.
Bolt after bolt launched at the orb as he strove to destroy it. Like pebbles thrown at a raging river, the Dreads’ might absorbed his own without a ripple. But even the smallest stone, properly placed, can divert the course of a river. Aristomus concentrated his blasts to the side of the sizzling orb, seeking to deflect rather than destroy it.
Sweat ran down his face in rivulets as he struggled against the Dreads’ dark power. One last bolt struck the orb at its apex, changing its course the tiniest amount. The angle of deflection grew more dramatic as the orb came closer. It fell short and north of the gate, crashing to earth with the force of an earthquake. The concussion tore at Aristomus, forcing him to cling to the stout timber wall. The titanic explosion incinerated scores of Unsouled and left those far enough away to escape destruction flattened and dazed. Scorched and smoking, the gates and wall remained intact.
Farthest from the blast, the rescue party somehow remained on their feet. After retrieving Craigen and Torlaine, they fought their way back. Two giants carried Torlaine while a third supported a limping Craigen. Well behind them, Aristomus saw the three Dread raise their arms yet again.
“No,” he whispered. In his relief over deflecting the initial attack, he’d forgotten the Dread still fought. And weariness dragged at his spirit; each effort a drain on his limited resources. The rescuers push for the wall became a battle for survival as the Unsouled renewed their attack. Only one man, what difference could he make in the face of such evil?
Still, he had to try. Lifting his staff once again, the old mage’s eyes narrowed in concentration. If he focused his attack on a single Dread rather than all three... Summoning his remaining resources, he launched a scorching bolt at the Dread to his right. Forked lightning filled the air with the smell of burnt ozone as it danced over the Dread’s defenses, seeking a way in. Aristomus poured everything he had into the attack, refusing to yield... and won.
The Dread’s defensive shield imploded as lightning pierced some weakness in its shell. Thrown backwards, the beast collided with a tree, sliding to the ground in a broken heap. The blast knocked the remaining Dread from their feet. Shaken, their defenses flickered and winked out.
Aristomus stumbled, falling against Colburne. “Hurry,” he croaked, his voice a cracked whisper. “The Dread... you must...”
The giant understood and pointed at the Dread, “Archers! Loose now!”
Arrows whistled through the night, riddling the stunned Dread with thick shafts before they could recover. The giants cheered, fists pumping. Below, Craigen, Torlaine and their rescuers slipped through the gate seconds before the Unsouled renewed their fruitless assault on the wall.
Colburne helped Aristomus to his feet. “Do not celebrate too soon,” the old mage mumbled. “This is far from over. The Dark Mage has yet to unleash his full strength. The giants looked at one another, embarrassed, before turning back to their stations.
“Aristomus!” called a voice from below. He recognized Craigen. “Aristomus, please! Torlaine... she is dying!”
The old mage tried to hurry, but his exhaustion and the height of the stairs combined to slow him. Accepting Colburne’s arm, he at last arrived at Torlaine’s side. A horrific wound greeted him; a wood spike embedded deep in her stomach. That she’d survived this long, let alone fought, astonished Aristomus. Craigen looked at him, eyes pleading.
“This is beyond me,” Aristomus muttered, shaking his head. “I have not the strength to heal such a wound, not in my weakened condition. It would kill us both.” He met Craigen’s stare. “Take her to Alecia. And hurry. I do not think she has much time.”
ALECIA HURRIED TO THE Hall of Healing. Inside she found Craigen kneeling beside the pallet bearing his injured wife. She gasped when confronted with the grisly wound. Only a giant could endure such damage and still live. More incredible still, Torlaine had regained consciousness, jaw clenched as she tried to swallo
w her anguish.
Alecia turned her attention to Craigen. Cuts and bite marks covered his arms and face while blood streamed from a dozen gashes. “Craigen, I must have your aid,” she said, voice soft. “The damage is extensive and I will need to focus all my attention on the healing. You... I am sorry, but you must pull the spike free.” She paused a moment, eyes gleaming with tears as she continued, “It will be... very painful. But you must not falter. If the wood remains when the healing begins, the magic will fuse it to her body. She will die.”
Craigen nodded his understanding. His eyes bled tears as he looked at his wife. “I love you, Torlaine.” Then he wrapped gentle hands around the spike and said, “I am ready.”
Alecia placed the tip of her staff against Torlaine’s chest. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and summoned the Power. It enhanced her senses, made clear the true extent of the injury. It was more terrible than she’d imagined. The splintered piece of wood had ripped open both the stomach and intestines, spilling their contents into her body. Worse still, the spike rested against her spine. Not even the Power could heal paralysis. The mage shook her head in disbelief. The woman had fought in this condition. The pain alone...
She delayed, and Torlaine could not afford her weakness. Putting aside her fears, she said, “Craigen, at the count of three. One... two... three!”
Torlaine screamed in agony as Craigen tore the spike free. The Power flowed through Alecia’s staff in a frigid torrent. Tissue mended, muscles re-knit and blood vessels weaved together, becoming whole again. Convulsions shook Torlaine’s body. “Hold her!” Alecia shouted. A deeper probe revealed extensive toxins invading every part of her body. She had to burn them out—a challenging process requiring a delicate touch. Any contamination left behind would just allow the giant to sicken once again.
At last, satisfied she had gotten everything, Alecia closed the wound. The ragged flesh fused together, becoming whole and smooth again. Finished, the mage released the Power and opened her eyes. Torlaine slept. Her gray skin remained pale, but she appeared sound. “She will sleep for some time,” Alecia said, her face flushed and running with sweat. “When she wakes, you must make her drink as much as possible. She...” Alecia wavered, lightheaded. “She experienced severe blood loss and healing can only do... can only do...”
Craigen caught Alecia before she fell. He picked her up in gentle arms and carried her to the bed next to Torlaine’s. Kneeling, he kissed her forehead and whispered, “Thank you, Alecia. You have returned something most precious to me. I will not forget this.” Then he settled himself by his wife’s bed to wait.
ARISTOMUS MET ADAM in the courtyard outside the Hall of Healing. When he’d explained what happened at the gates, Adam cursed and moved toward the door.
“Where are you going?” the old mage asked.
“If Torlaine’s wounds are severe, Alecia will need my help.”
“Adam, wait.” Aristomus reached out and grabbed his arm as Adam tried to push past. “They need you at the gates. If the Dread attack again... The giants will fight valiantly, but they cannot stand against them alone.”
Adam shrugged off the mage’s hand. Anger and guilt roughened his tone. “Yeah, I’ll go. But don’t forget, Aristomus. We could have avoided this if I’d given myself up. Everything that happens from here on out—every single death—is on my head.”
Aristomus opened his mouth to respond, but Adam turned and walked away.
Chapter 31, Surrender
The Unsouled continued their attack throughout the night, but had no answer for the giants’ fortifications. The Dread made no more appearances. Losing three of his highest servants must have given the Dark Mage reason to pause. When dawn peeked from behind the mountains, the Unsouled retreated into the forest. Scouts slipped through the gates to check on the enemy’s position while others retrieved unbroken arrows to replenish their stock. Larger parties arranged the bodies of the Unsouled into piles to burn.
Adam stalked along the battlement, angry and confused. Torlaine almost died because of him. Others had died. And who knew how many more might join them? They faced an intolerable situation. He knew Aristomus and Alecia would never give up. And the giants had unquestionable courage. But it wouldn’t change the outcome. Numbers favored the Dark Mage. Even with the hundreds of Unsouled slaughtered the night before, thousands still filled their ranks. And the Dread outnumbered the mages at least six to one.
In his mind, Adam kept coming to the same conclusion: Accept the Dark Mage’s offer. Give yourself up in hopes he’d let the others go free. He didn’t consider himself a hero, but there were people here he cared about... people he loved. Whatever he decided, one thing remained certain: Aristomus and Alecia couldn’t know. They’d find a way to stop him.
Adam flagged down Colburne to let the giant know he returned to the village for food and rest. He made the Hall of Healing his first stop. Inside he found Alecia, Aristomus and Torlaine, all fast asleep. Craigen continued his vigil at Torlaine’s side. Adam nodded to the giant. Too guilty and ashamed to speak, he turned to go.
Outside, he leaned his back against the building and slammed his clenched fist into the unyielding wall. Your fault, Adam, he berated himself. You know what you have to do.
He turned to leave when the door opened and Craigen slipped out.
“Ah, Adam. I hoped I might catch you,” the giant rumbled. “May we speak?”
Adam’s face burned with shame. More than anyone, Craigen had reason to hold him in contempt. But he refused to shirk his responsibilities. “Sure. I’m just going to get something to eat.”
The two walked to the refectory. Giants crowded the room, using the time to eat and recover. Low, mumbled conversations followed him. Adam imagined every glance, every indistinct comment, must be aimed at him—an accusation of his guilt. Head bowed, he led Craigen to a table in the corner, as far from the others as possible. Adam climbed into the huge chair, feet dangling far off the floor.
Craigen opened his mouth to speak, but paused when a servant brought over platters of mutton, beans and potatoes. When they were alone again, he said, “Adam, I wish to offer you my thanks.”
“What?” Adam blurted, eyes wide with astonishment. Accusations, anger; these he expected from the giant. But gratitude?
“Craigen, I...”
“Please,” he continued, holding up one hand, “let me finish. Master Aristomus came to the Hall of Healing last night. He told me of your decision to accompany Torlaine and me to Mount Dismay. Bravely done, my friend. I believed I had nothing more to lose; that the Dark Mage had taken everything from me.” Craigen gave a heavy sigh. “I was wrong. And the mistake almost cost me my wife.
“Perhaps it is foolishness for mortal beings to contemplate vengeance against one as powerful as the Dark Mage. I know only I must make some answer to the pain and despair we have endured.”
Craigen leaned down, fixing Adam with a pointed stare. “It is why you must allow me to accompany you.”
Adam drew back, his face draining of color. “Accompany me? Craigen, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The giant gave a brief, humorless laugh. “My friend, I am intimately familiar with the depths of despair. For one who has suffered as I, the signs are clear. You intend to surrender yourself to the Dark Mage.”
Adam glanced around the room, anxious someone had overheard the giant’s words. “If I planned something crazy,” he whispered, “why would I take you along? The last thing I’d want is someone else’s death on my conscience.”
“Because you will need some means to leave other than the gates.” The giant’s lips spread in a grim smile. “And I know of such a way.”
ADAM SPENT MOST OF the day either resting or at the Hall of Healing. Exhaustion still hampered Alecia and Aristomus, but food and rest worked wonders. Torlaine had improved, too.
“Foolishness,” Aristomus chided himself. “We should have stationed ourselves at the gates. It is where the main thrust came.
Countering it will require all of us.
“You are too hard on yourself, father,” scolded Alecia. “We survived. Is that not what matters?”
“Well, I will not make such a mistake again. We must all be at the wall and ready for the Dark Mage’s attack before sunset.”
“Adam, you are quiet,” said Alecia. “Is something amiss?”
“No, I... Alecia, can I talk to you a moment? In private?”
The couple walked to the other side of the room and sat on an empty bed. Alecia looked at him with concern in her eyes. “Adam, what is it? There is something you are not telling me.”
Adam stood back up and paced with nervous energy. Now that he had the opportunity, he didn’t know how to say goodbye without revealing his plans. “Alecia,” he started, “you know how I feel about you. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you.”
“I do, Adam.” She reached out and took his hand, forcing him to look at her. “And you know I feel the same.”
“Yes, but... Well, the chances are slim I’ll make it out of this alive,” he blurted. “And if I don’t, it’s important you not grieve. You have to go on with your life.”
Tears sparkled in Alecia’s eyes as she replied, “Please, do not say such things, Adam. You will see. Somehow we will both make it through this together.” She folded her arms around his waist in a fierce hug.
Adam returned the embrace, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair for the last time. I’m doing the right thing, he thought. So why do I feel like such a coward?
JUST BEFORE DUSK, ADAM met Craigen beside the Hall of Elders. The giant had exchanged the heavy coat of iron disks for a simple open vest and leggings while Adam wore a dark robe over his clothing. Motioning for silence, Craigen led Adam to a deep cistern behind the building. A set of thick, crisscrossed beams on either side of the well supported a windlass used to raise and lower a large bucket. The giant explained how the wells had been dug to provide a source of water in times of siege.
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