by A. C. Cobble
Ben glanced down at his sword. In the dark Venmoor steel, a lone mountain peak was etched in bright silver. The top of it rose, narrow and tall. Its base was wide, though, surrounded by several sharp-peaked foothills. He frowned, not for the first time wondering who had crafted the blade and what purpose the etching hinted at.
“Come on down to the camp,” suggested Rhys. “I stole some kaf from the Sanctuary mages again. From the smell of the crushed beans, it’s high-quality stuff. Too good to waste on those tea-drinkers.”
“You stole from the Sanctuary mages?” asked Amelie with a groan.
The rogue shrugged. “They should have set a watch last night. Besides, we’re all on the same side now, right? Surely they’d want to share their kaf.”
“Surely,” replied Ben, scrambling to his feet and then offering a hand to pull Amelie up.
A bell later, the sun was chasing away the shadows inside the courtyard of the watchtower, and the companions stood in a loose circle while Jasper faced Adrick.
“I cannot free you once you are inside,” admitted the mage. “I have spent several bells searching the armor, but there is no obvious release.”
“The previous owner managed to get out of it, didn’t they?” asked Adrick.
Jasper shrugged. “Yes, or maybe it was never used.”
The swordsman’s lips twitched. “It’s worth the risk. We’ll need every advantage we can get today.”
The mage nodded, and he stepped forward to assist the Lightblade strap on the armor. Prem joined him, and the two of them began to piece each section of plate onto Adrick’s muscular form.
“I know it’s a lot to ask,” said Ben, “but can you stay in hiding until the battle begins? We should have sufficient forces to repel the initial wave. We’ll need you when the bulk of the demons arrive. In case the demon-king is tactically minded, I don’t want to tip our entire hand until it’s necessary.”
“Even in the armor, he still won’t be much good against the demon-king,” warned Jasper.
“I don’t know. You should have seen him against the wyverns,” responded Ben.
Adrick met Ben’s eyes and drew a deep breath. Jasper fastened the shining, silver breastplate around his chest, and his daughter lowered the helm over his eyes. Bright, flawless steel stared back at Ben.
“Can you see anything in there?” wondered Ben.
The steel shimmered, and Adrick’s eyes came into view as if the faceplate of the armor was a smoke-filled glass window.
“I can,” answered Adrick’s smooth voice. It sounded hollow, coming from within the steel helmet.
“Try moving around some,” suggested Jasper. “Get the hang of it. Then, you can wait in the shadows when the demons arrive.”
Adrick moved one arm and then the other. The steel moved silk-quiet, upsetting Ben’s expectations and jarring his senses. It was unreal, watching the metal plates rub together soundlessly. The swordsman moved a leg, bent slightly, and then leapt, soaring a dozen paces into the air and landing atop a still-standing section of the watchtower wall. The steel banged against the rock, giving Ben some level of comfort that the stuff was actually hard enough to stop a demon claw.
Adrick’s armored head swiveled. He looked out at the men below them and then back at Ben and his friends. Shouts rose up from outside as men noticed the bright armored shape standing in the morning sun. Adrick jumped down outside the walls, and Ben lost sight of him. He could hear where he was going by the startled gasps and shouts from outside. The swordsman was circling the watchtower, moving faster than a running horse, judging by the noise as people saw him. In a few short moments, Adrick came bounding back over the fallen walls of the watchtower. The silver steel of his faceplate turned cloudy again, and Ben saw the normally stoic swordsman wore a gigantic smile.
“This,” he murmured, “is unlike anything I have experienced before. It’s like raw energy is flowing through my veins, into my muscles, into my lungs. I feel like I could run and fight for days in this.”
“I suspect that’s what it was made for,” remarked Jasper.
Prem moved to her father’s side, proffering his translucent blade. Adrick’s gauntleted hand closed around the hilt, and the weapon flared with blue light. The mirror-smooth armor reflected the light, filling the courtyard with a cool, blue glow.
“The Lightblade,” whispered Jasper, realization and respect evident on his face.
Ben studied the mage, wondering what he knew of Adrick, what anyone knew of him since the swordsman hadn’t left the woods in centuries.
“It’s a bad day to be a demon,” said Rhys. There wasn’t a trace of sarcasm in the rogue’s voice.
Ben glanced at his friend. It took a lot to shock Rhys, but apparently a man holding a brightly glowing blue sword and wearing full mage-wrought plate armor, who could easily jump over a two-man-height tall wall was enough.
“Well,” said Ben after a long moment, “I suppose the rest of us should get ready too.”
The sun was high overhead, and beads of sweat ran down Ben’s back. He wanted to blame it on the heat, but the late summer warmth was cooled by a consistent breeze off the river. It wasn’t the heat that had him sweating. It was nerves. He consciously released his fingers from around the hilt of his sword and shook his hand, cursing himself for letting his grip get so tight.
“Once it starts,” said Rhys, “your nerves will settle.”
“Will they?” snapped Ben.
Rhys shrugged. “They will, or they won’t. It won’t really matter, though, will it? You’ll be busy fighting or dying.”
“Soon,” mumbled Amelie.
Ben fought to keep his hand off the hilt of his sword. He glanced to his left where the mages were huddled. A bit over two dozen of them now, including Jasper’s group, the Sanctuary mages, and the guardians who’d come with Adrick. Amelie had twisted their arms until they all agreed to follow Jasper’s commands, an impressive feat since she’d apparently avoided explaining who exactly he was. Respecting Hadra’s warning about spies, they’d also held back the details of the wyvern fire staff, merely telling the assembled mages that there was a powerful weapon they could deploy when the time was right.
Ben guessed the guardians had been around long enough that they could get a sense of Jasper. He wasn’t a First Mage, but he was the closest thing there was. The Sanctuary mages fought hard until Amelie finally brow-beat Hadra into agreement, and the mage had turned and brow-beat her companions.
Now, Jasper was standing at their center, speaking quietly. Ben knew he intended to reserve himself for when the demon-king arrived. Most of his group would be held back as well. The guardians and the Sanctuary’s mages would act first, deploying their magic strategically. They would wait until they could strike a solid group of demons, causing as much collateral damage as possible. If they could strike an arch-demon, they would. They wouldn’t target any individual demons, no matter the temptation. The swordsmen would handle those.
Below them, a ring of Venmoor’s rangers, supported by blademasters and the Kirksbane contingent, surrounded the hill. They had space to fall back, which Ben hated to admit, but he was sure they’d need.
To the right of Ben, Rhys was speaking to a handful of blademasters and guardians. They would form the flying companies and respond to breaches in the ranger’s line until the soldiers could regroup. Forty of them, most of the best blades in the force. Ben and Rhys would hold them back as long as possible, but soon, they’d be in the thick of it. Those men and women were too skilled to keep from the fight. They just had to make sure that when they joined the battle, it was at the hottest point, where the defenders needed it the most.
That morning, the entire force had assembled, and Ben had spoken to them about what they were fighting for, why they were risking their lives. The rift in the Wilds, the one the Purple had formed, and the one in the guardian’s woods. They were all closed now. The gateways between the worlds were vanishing, and with it, the occurrence of new demons o
n Alcott would stop as well. Most of the arms men, and even the Sanctuary’s mages, were unfamiliar with the rifts, but they understood Ben when he told them they could end the threat forever. It wasn’t just Kirksbane they protected, or even Venmoor and the City. It was all of Alcott. The entire world. If they won the day, they could end the demon threat once and for all.
“It would be nice if we had artillery like in Northport or the battle for the rift in the woods,” remarked Ben.
“We have mages,” mentioned Amelie, “and Adrick Morgan.”
“And Adrick,” he responded. He glanced back at the watchtower where the man had retreated into hiding.
The swordsman was the answer to when the flying companies were no longer sufficient. With his lightblade and impenetrable armor, he’d be nearly unstoppable. He wanted to be on the front line from the beginning, but Jasper rightly warned, these demons would be more intelligent and cunning than any swarm they’d faced previously. The creatures may understand what the true threats were and respond to them. If Adrick showed himself early, the arch-demons and their king might elect to bury the man in bodies.
Instead, they’d wait until chaos prevailed, and the formations were broken. Then, Adrick with his incredible speed and strength, could move through like a deadly wind. He’d target the arch-demons or locations where the defenders had failed. At least, that’s what they were hoping would happen.
“What is that?” asked Amelie.
Ben turned to follow her gaze. He couldn’t see anything, but he heard a distant, rumbling thunder. Shouts rang out from below, and the men shifted, everyone making last adjustments to their equipment or offering final curses for the dark forces that would descend upon them. Ben glanced to the top of the watchtower where two of the sharpest-eyed rangers hid. Those men would be the first to actually see the demons.
They’d erected a tarp over the top of the tower and covered it with fallen timber and rubble. It was the best disguise they could come up with, but Ben worried it wouldn’t be effective enough. Some demons could fly, and if they decided they wanted to perch on the tower, those two men would be hard pressed to stop them.
“There!” barked a call from up high.
Ben looked back to the north and waited. Beside the river, a quarter league of lush green grass bridged the land between the water and the thick forest. Like flies buzzing across a cow pasture, Ben began to see dark specks clouding the air.
“Scouts?” wondered Rhys.
Ben shrugged.
The specks drew closer until it became obvious it was demons swooping in graceful arcs. Forty, fifty of them, it was hard to tell. Behind the first bunch, more dots of darkness appeared. Individuals crawled across the green grass like ants. The distance belied how quickly the shapes were moving, and before long, the movement resolved into the loping bounds of demons. Hundreds of them filled the length of open lawn.
“They don’t appear to be marching in any sort of coordinated fashion,” remarked Rhys.
“That will come,” said Jasper. “These will be a combination of very immature demons and those that are bordering on the rise to arch-demons. The young ones may be too weak to be worthy of inclusion in one of the arch-demon’s swarms. The others will be looking to get a jump on their peers, to feast and gain strength, so they too can ascend to the point where they form their own swarm.”
“You know a lot about these demons,” said Ben.
“We spent the last several months traveling the north, battling them, studying them,” said Jasper. “We learned a lot of new information. Before that, I’ve battled these things off and on for centuries. This first wave will be over-eager and easy to deal with for your arms men. The next wave is what we need to worry about. The arch-demons, and maybe even the king, will be directing their minions. Only then will we find out how intelligent these creatures can be.”
“There are still hundreds of demons out there. I think that’s plenty to worry about,” reminded Amelie.
Jasper winked. “Maybe easy isn’t the right term, but compared to what is coming…”
“I’m going to check in with Rakkash,” said Ben.
Jasper waved him off and went back to his cabal of mages.
Ben jogged down the slope to find the commander of the rangers walking along his line of men, offering words of encouragement, and trying not to gape at the approaching demons.
“This first wave will largely be on you,” said Ben. “The mages will hold back until the balance of the force arrives. We want to save their magic until they can blast masses of the creatures, instead of one here and there.”
“We’ll be ready,” Rakkash said. Ben caught the quiver of uncertainty in his voice.
“The flying company will be right behind you,” offered Ben. “We don’t need to hold it back yet. Once things pick up, we’ll have to be more careful with where we send them, and the pressure is going to increase.”
Rakkash nodded and then rushed off to scold one of his men who had shoved a companion. The commander of the rangers chided the two, and Ben could see tension was high amongst all the men. They were taking it out through any outlet they had. Just another quarter bell, thought Ben, and it would start.
That quarter bell passed tensely. No one liked to watch as hundreds of demons descended upon their position. They still could not see the bulk of the demon army, but the black specks continued to materialize on the horizon. First as dozens then hundreds and by the time they got close, Ben thought there may be close to one thousand of the creatures scattered across three or four leagues of open field.
A shout went up, and an arrow left the bow. A ranger had fired at one of the flying demons which swooped in close. The arrow fell short, not even getting halfway to the creature. As that archer was being taken to task for wasting an arrow and firing before the demons were in range, another arrow flew up, narrowly missing a second one of the beasts.
“Well,” said Rhys. “It’s a pretty day for it. Will you join the flying companies, or, ah, stand here with Amelie and command things?”
Ben snorted and turned to Amelie.
“I’ll stand with the mages,” she suggested.
“I’ll go with Rhys then,” said Ben. He gripped her arm and gave her a kiss. “Be safe.”
“I-I… You stay safe,” she quivered, liquid filling the corners of her eyes as she left the rest unsaid. She turned to Rhys. “Watch his back.”
“Do I get a kiss?” asked the rogue.
“You can get my boot against your ass,” declared Amelie before squeezing Ben’s hand and turning to join the mages.
“A little humor helps break the tension before a battle,” claimed Rhys. “If people are fixated on a concern, it becomes all they can think of. When you break that focus, you allow their minds to open, and they’re fully aware of their surroundings. They can consider what they need to do, instead of just worrying about what is coming.”
“Oh, is that why you do it?” asked Ben. “I never knew it was all part of a grand strategy.”
Rhys winked and then produced a silver flask.
“Not for me. Not today,” said Ben.
“Suit yourself,” responded Rhys before tucking the flask back into his belt.
“When this is over,” said Ben, “I’ll drink the whole damn thing.”
Angry shrieks proceeded the first dozen demons before they smashed into the line of Rakkash’s men. Like Jasper had claimed, they were small and over-eager. The rangers had gained extensive experience facing the creatures in the hills around Venmoor and reacted efficiently. Arrows were fired at close range to wound and slow the attackers. Then, spears were thrust forward to catch them and pin them. Finally, a man would rush forward with a sword or axe to finish the demon.
Up and down the line, Ben saw the flash of steel and heard cries of enraged pain from the demons. The men worked silently and methodically, only calling out when the wooden haft of a spear snapped, or a man took an injury. Then, the sergeants moving behind the line would i
nstruct a swap, and a fresh body or fresh weapon would be put into position.
The system was working well, Ben saw. The watchmen from Kirksbane carried long polearms, which were perfect for stabbing the charging demons before they got close. It left ample room for Venmoor’s rangers to step up and hack into them. Additional polearms were hovering, ready to provide the rangers cover if they needed it.
For the time being, Ben and the flying companies held back, waiting to see stress in the line before they committed to a position. Ben knew once they engaged, it’d be difficult to pull back. Rakkash’s men were more than capable of handling the first few dozen demons. The advantage of the flying companies was flexibility, and they needed to maintain it as long as possible, so Ben watched patiently.
Three-dozen demons had been put down before the first man lost his life. From one hundred paces away, Ben saw the man go down screaming, his hands covering his face where claws had gouged deeply. They’d caught his neck too, and in moments, the man’s lifeblood pumped out onto the grass. It could have been the man involved in the shoving incident earlier. It was near there, but Ben chided himself for wondering. Whoever the fallen man was, he’d stood bravely against a field of darkness. He’d done what he could to protect Venmoor and all of Alcott. He’d been the first hero to make the ultimate sacrifice.
The line closed seamlessly around the fallen man, and his body was dragged clear. A score of the young men and boys from Kirksbane were assisting with removing the injured and dead. No one thought it would be long before they were pressed into combat. In this battle, there would be no triage for the wounded. None of the mages would spare energy for healing. No, in this fight, it was to the death. Everything they had would be spent fighting the demons, and only after the last of the dark beasts was felled would they have the chance to worry about their losses.
“There,” murmured Rhys.
The line had bulged in, rangers scrambling to find footing as half a dozen demons stormed into them, but even as Rhys spoke, a pair of Venmoor’s blademasters swept closer and sliced through the demons. The line reformed, and the blademasters strode back to where they’d been standing a score of paces down the line.
