Goran heard the crack of the man’s jaw as it broke, and saw him collapse unconscious. He lunged forward with his sword, attempting to spear the orc in its injured stomach. But the orc managed to bring its blade down, batting the long sword away. Goran moved with the parry, using the momentum of the orc’s strike to spin and slide the razor sharp sword across the orc’s exposed thigh. The blade bit deep into its leg just above the kneecap. The orc howled again, stumbling forward as the pain of its stomach wound caused it to falter. Goran didn’t waste any time. Jumping forward with his good leg he swung his sword as hard as he could. The blade sliced through the orc’s throat, nearly separating its head from its shoulders. As blood sprayed from the wound, Goran leaped away, quickly reaching down and lifting the unconscious warrior who lay at his feet. He hefted him up with a grunt, pain lancing through his wounded leg as the weight of the man settled on his shoulders. Gritting his teeth, he quickly moved down the forested rock face toward the rear of the choke point, hoping to meet up with the rest of the knights. As the sounds of screams and growls surrounded him, he could only hope that some of his comrades had gotten away.
Kromm reacted to the strike quickly, faster than any man could. The strength of the blow would have killed the average man. He fought back the stars in his head, kicking out with his powerful leg as hard as he could, which was considerably hard. The orc war leader grunted in astonishment as Kromm’s foot connected solidly with its breast plate, launching the huge creature backwards into its own comrades. Kromm, reaching down, ripped his blade from the dead orc at his feet just as more orcs surged forward to take their leader’s place. Kromm fought them all; the size of his sword swinging left and right in the narrow gorge shielded his men behind him. They stayed back in the narrow gap ready to defend their liege if he were to fall, or to protect his flanks if need be, but nothing seemed to stop the colossal warrior. Orcs stepped forward, and orcs fell dead at his feet.
Then, in the midst of the battle, the air surrounding the king suddenly cooled to a freezing chill. It happened so quickly that the air was sucked from his lungs. The orcs felt it too, hesitating momentarily as the piercing cold gripped them. They suddenly began to slip, falling over each other and landing hard on their backs.
Kromm was surprised to see that the ground under the orcs, and the narrow rock walls, were covered with a sheet of glittering ice. Growling in frustration, the orcs tried to move but fell helplessly over each other. Every time they reached up to the rock wall to stabilize themselves, their hands slipped on the ice and they sprawled to the ground again.
“My King, the queen is being attacked, fall back!”
It was Addalis’s voice yelling from behind him. He must have cast the ice spell to give them time to retreat. His voice sounded strained and Kromm’s heart pounded with fear at what he said. The men around him also heard the warning, turning around as well. Only four of the original nine remained.
They quickly ran back to their queen, shocked to see that at least fifteen orcs were battling the remaining knights. They must have circled around, dispatched the archers and then attacked the group from the rear. The orcs had surrounded nine knights, the queen, Prince Riker, and Addalis, all of whom were frantically fighting for their lives, which were now hanging tenuously under the relentless onslaught of the orcs. It was clear they were about to be overrun. It was then that Addalis cast his next spell.
As Kromm and his remaining men sprinted toward their queen, they saw the ground, underneath four orcs who had surrounded the queen and her son, suddenly erupt with green thorny vines. In a matter of seconds the vines had grown as thick as a man’s arm, snaking forward and grabbing the orc’s legs and arms, entangling them in a knot of vine and limb. Growling in fury and frustration, the orcs struggled against the magical vines, but they could not break away. Several had their sword arms free and tried to hack their way out of the vines. But for every one they cut, two more slid into place, securing the large beasts even more firmly.
Kromm and his four knights stormed into the orcs that had not gotten caught up in the vines, scattering them and evening the odds. Thirteen knights, including the king, now faced eleven orcs, whose numbers would increase as soon as their brethren freed themselves from the ice on the trail. And Kromm knew that wouldn’t take long.
“Addalis, take the queen and prince away! We will hold them off! Get them out of here!” the king bellowed as he parried a strike from an orc, then rammed his blade forward with such strength that it punched through the beast’s armor, bursting out its back in a shower of blood. Kromm pushed the dead beast off his blade, propelling it backwards into another attacking orc. He took a second to look back at his wife, just in time to see her fire an arrow from her bow into a nearby orc.
“I will stay and fight!” she yelled.
Just as she spoke, another orc barreled through a man it had just killed and rushed at the surprised queen.
“No!” screamed the king as he struggled toward her.
The queen quickly dropped her bow and smoothly drew her sword, which looked no larger than a knife when compared to the giant creature that was soon to crush her.
Kromm frantically parried another attack, stumbling backwards to get near his wife. He risked another glance back and saw Riker, his son, step in front of the queen with his sword held before him.
But the glance was brief as Kromm was forced to bring his attention back to his attacker. The orc was relentless, bringing its heavy sword down again and again with tremendous power. Kromm, forcing himself to focus, carefully timed his next move. As the beast again swung its sword, Kromm pivoted forward and to the side as the orc’s blade came whistling by him. The momentum of the swing carried the sword forward and toward the ground, knocking the orc off balance. The king then leaped forward, bringing his blade down on the orc’s exposed back. It crumpled to the ground as Kromm’s powerful blow cut through its armor, driving his sword through its spine.
Riker’s blood pounded in his ears as he tried to calm his fear. He remembered what his father had said, that fear was his friend, but it had to be controlled. He tried to force it down deep into his body, concentrating on his sword and the charging orc. He had fought men many times in training, but he had never before shed blood or faced an opponent as large and ferocious as the charging orc. He saw his attacker come at him as if in slow motion. His mother screamed as he pushed her aside. Then, just as he raised his sword to meet the charge, two daggers flew past him, burying themselves into the orcs exposed neck. The knives must have come from Addalis who was standing just behind him.
Riker reacted on instinct as the injured orc tried to skewer him with its blade. Parrying the thrust he pivoted to the side, swinging his blade low and at the back of the orc’s leg as it stumbled by. The move was perfectly executed and his strike was true, his blade easily severing the orc’s unprotected hamstring, causing it to roar in pain and fall to the ground.
The queen was there to finish the beast off, jumping onto it and ramming her blade through the base of its neck, severing its spine, killing it instantly.
Kromm battled his way to his queen as she yanked her blade from the orc’s neck. “You must flee! I cannot protect you! Addalis, can you get them to safety?” roared the king.
“I will not leave you!” the queen yelled frantically.
“My King,” Addalis responded, “I have a spell that will do as you ask, but I can only take the queen and prince with me. I was hoping to save it but I think now is the time.”
Just as Addalis spoke, the sound of twanging bows and the howling of more orcs caused the men to turn toward the choke point they had left, and saw, to their horror, a barrage of arrows flying at them. One took Kromm in the shoulder, causing him to stagger back a few feet. He yanked the arrow from his shoulder, showing no sign of pain, and then quickly threw himself in front of Sorana as more arrows came at them. He saw several of his men fall as the arrows found their marks. Within seconds another arrow struck his right forea
rm, penetrating the thick leather wristband he wore and piercing all the way through his thick muscle. He growled angrily, broke off the tip, and ripped out the arrow, throwing it on the ground.
“Get them out of here! Now!” Kromm yelled frantically, using his huge body to shield his wife and son. But the order was not necessary. He heard Addalis chanting behind him as the orcs that were delayed by the ice spell joined the fighting.
Kromm roared in defiance as an orc ran towards him. The mighty king lifted his sword over his head, flinging it with all his might. The blade spun once, striking the charging orc in the chest. The strength of the throw propelled the weapon through the orc’s body, launching it backwards onto its back. Kromm ran forward, yanked the blade from the dead orc, and engaged the next adversary.
The snarling creature swung its heavy sword in a sideways arc, hoping to cleave the king in two. Kromm ducked under the blow, dropping to one knee, swinging his heavy blade with one hand in a vicious arc, completely disemboweling the beast. Kromm’s wounds stung, but they did little to hamper his movements. His anger fueled his body and he felt little pain or fatigue. A normal man would have been severely compromised by injuries such as he had sustained, but Kromm was not a normal man, he had never been normal in battle.
The orc collapsed, writhing in agony as its blood poured from the gaping wound on its abdomen.
Kromm glanced back to check on Addalis and his family. All he saw was the form of Addalis stepping through a shimmering door floating several feet off the ground. The edges of the door were a glowing line of white while the interior was as dark as night. Addalis stepped into the portal and then the door disappeared in a white flash. Kromm looked around and there was no sign of his wife or son. He did not know where they had gone, but he had total trust in his loyal friend. They had grown up together, their childhood forming a bond that was solidified with the honor bound oath between a king and his court wizard. They were like brothers; each would die for the other. Kromm knew that Addalis would protect his family with his life.
The king quickly scanned the battle scene. Things were not faring well. Ten orcs remained, including the powerful leader who had just ripped his sword from the remains of the archer, Orion. Six loyal knights were still alive and fighting, plus Kromm and General Farwin. There was no organization to the battle and each man was fighting furiously to defend himself. But they were the best fighters, the finest swordsmen in Tarsis, and would not be as easily killed as their comrades.
Kromm gritted his teeth, clenching his jaw in fury. He leaped over the dead orc he had just killed, and charged the orc leader. The beast lifted his bloody sword to block the king’s strike. Kromm attacked the orc repeatedly, roaring in anger with every powerful strike. After taking several blows straight on, the orc angled its blade, causing the king’s sword to slide to the side, simultaneously kicking his right leg into the side of Kromm’s knee. Kromm’s leg buckled and he dropped to the ground. The beast then lifted its bloody blade above its head preparing to crush his skull.
The king, with his right hand, gripped the long handle of his sword while quickly drawing forth a hidden blade with his left hand. The second half of the sword’s pommel was the handle of a stiletto that was sheathed in the first half of the pommel. Before the orc could bring its deadly blade down, Kromm rammed the blade into its groin, burying it to the hilt. The orc dropped its blade, howling in pain as it stumbled backwards, its hands clutching at the vicious wound.
The king, despite his injured knee, managed to jump up, swinging his sword with one hand, and completely severing the orc’s arm at the elbow. The war leader howled, ripping the knife from its crotch with its remaining hand. Kromm reversed his swing, coming back at the orc with frightening force, striking its other arm, cutting it badly and leaving it hanging uselessly at the beast’s side. The stunned beast roared in pain and anger, leaping at the king with its bared teeth, snarling angrily and desperately seeking Kromm’s blood with the only weapons it had left. Refusing to give up, the beast flew at Kromm, trying to bite into his neck and tear out his throat. But the king countered the attack by bashing the end of his pommel into its face, causing the beast to stumble backwards. Then, gripping his sword with both hands, he swung the blade through the defeated orc’s neck, severing its head and sending it flying into the air.
Kromm looked quickly around to assess the battle, and saw that there were only three of his men left. They were standing back to back facing six orcs. The men were bloody and exhausted and the king could tell that it would not be long before the struggle would be over.
As the king rushed over to join the fight, two of the orcs suddenly dropped as arrows pounded into them. Kromm caught some movement in the rocks nearby, and his heart soared with hope as he saw Allindrian fire her bow with lightning speed. She had two arrows in the air while she nocked a third. It was amazing to watch. Every arrow hit its mark.
The orcs were distracted, to say the least, by the relentless barrage of the Blade Singer’s arrows. The tired knights took advantage of the confusion, attacking the distracted orcs furiously, rejuvenated by the sense that victory was near.
Allindrian dropped two orcs quickly, her magic arrows easily penetrating their armor and flesh. She then fired into the remaining four, hoping to kill them or at least injure them and give the warriors time to finish them off. The beasts must have thought there were ten archers firing at them as Allindrian’s arrows rained endlessly down upon them. As the arrows fell, many hitting their marks, the beasts howled, frantically looking for the source of the onslaught.
Meanwhile, the king’s men cut them down mercilessly. It was over in minutes. The three remaining warriors moved toward their king, blood dripping from their swords. Though bloodied and exhausted, they carried themselves with determination, scanning the area for more enemies.
Allindrian bounded down the rocky face like a mountain goat, to join the remaining warriors, her face flushed and sweaty.
“Blade Singer, it is good to see you,” said the relieved king, as the tension of battle slowly dissipated from his body.
“King Kromm,” she replied, “I would have arrived sooner but I was delayed.”
“Aye, we could’ve used your blade,” the king responded as he looked at his men. What he saw filled him with sadness. The battle had been fierce and the destruction nearly complete. He had lost most of his men, including his general and close friend. The last he had looked, his friend had been alive. But in the last few moments of battle he had taken a sword to the side of his neck, nearly decapitating him. And now his wife and son were gone and he did not know where. He felt sure they were safe, but not knowing their whereabouts filled him with worry. Kromm took his eyes off his friend’s body and looked at the survivors. Three men stood before him, and he acknowledged each of them with a grateful smile and a nod. “Good work, men, you fought well.”
Gylow, one of the swordsmen, was holding a sword at his side and leaning heavily on his left leg. Kromm noticed a black shaft protruding from his leg and blood had stained his leather breeches. Next to Gylow was Lieutenant Tyn and he was using his traveling cloak to wipe the blood off his long sword. Lastly there was Evryn, a giant axe man who was almost as large as the king. The man had cuts that crossed his forearms and one deep laceration across his cheek. He bowed his head as he made eye contact with his king.
“Check the men for survivors and then see to your wounds,” the king ordered, turning back to Allindrian.
“Yes, my King,” replied Lieutenant Tyn.
“Lord Kromm, we must make haste, there is a bigger threat hunting us,” said Allindrian.
“What do you mean?” asked the king as he perused the destruction, haunted by the blank stares of his dead men.
“I was delayed because I was tracking three beasts that were tracking you. They are watching us now, from the cliffs above. I do not know why they hesitate to attack. I assume they were waiting to see what happened here. Now that your forces are weak, they are sur
e to attack. But I know this…we cannot defeat them with our present force. We must flee, but I’m afraid even that may not be possible. I do not think we can outrun that which hunts us.”
Kromm stopped in his tracks, hearing the news. “Blade Singer, I must find my wife and son. Addalis took them from the battlefield through a portal of some sort. I do not know where they went. I do not know if they are safe. We must survive and find them. What do we do?” asked the distraught king.
“Could be a dimension door spell. They could be anywhere but it must be somewhere that is known to the wizard. Do you have any ideas about where Addalis might go if he had a choice, would it be somewhere nearby?”
Kromm thought for a moment. “He has family in Cuthaine. It is the only place I can think of since Tarsis is no more.”
“The free city of Cuthaine?” Allindrian asked.
“Yes, but it is a long way from here. It would take weeks to reach the city, while all the while being chased by beasts that we cannot defeat. Our choices are few and none are desirable,” replied the frustrated king.
Allindrian pondered something briefly. “King Kromm, I may have a way to get you to Cuthaine quickly, but it will not be without risk.”
“What do you suggest?”
“We can take the Hallows Road,” she replied quietly.
Kromm looked up at her as he inspected the wound on his arm and shoulder. “The Hallows Road? But isn’t it sure death to enter that realm?”
“Not if you know the way. We elves can walk the dark paths of the Hallows. I have done it before. Besides, I think the threat of the Hallows is not as dangerous as the threat that follows us now.”
“I see. And you can get us to Cuthaine quickly?” he asked.
“Yes. Time spent in the Hallows is just a fraction of time here. It may take us days within the Hallows but when we arrive at the gate of Cuthaine it will only have been hours, a day at the most.”
The Cavalier Trilogy: Book 02 - The Rise of Malbeck Page 12
