His light easily filled the dark passageway and the group moved double time. Jonas led with swords drawn while the king brought up the rear. The tunnel was narrow and they had to run two abreast through shallow murky water. If it came to fighting then only one sword could be wielded at a time in the tight confines of the underground passage.
Jonas came to a spot in the corridor that split in two directions, one straight ahead, and the other to the right. “Which way?” he asked frantically, knowing that no one knew the path.
“Geardon didn’t say,” Myrell said, her voice shaking with fright.
“I say we continue straight,” replied the queen as she looked down the right passageway. “He would have given more detailed directions if we were to veer off the straight path.”
“I agree,” said Fil.
“Good enough for me,” muttered Jonas as he led them forward, his God Light shining brightly in the passage.
Addalis, meanwhile, was losing ground. The orcs had pushed him a good three paces and as he glanced backwards he saw that he would soon be entering the main kitchen. At that point the room would be too big and the shield could not block the beasts. They would swarm around him, kill him, and then rush off toward the rest.
He growled in frustration and from the strain of holding the shield, which was about to falter. He yelled in defiance and looked down, gritting his teeth as he tried to find the last bit of strength to keep the shield up, for what purpose he did not know, as death seemed inevitable.
But what he saw at his feet gave him hope. He was standing on a metal grate. Addalis reasoned that it was probably used to drain away the water when the kitchen was cleaned, likely emptying into the sewer or some sort of drainage system. The large grate was almost the length of the hallway, and it would likely be heavy. He was slowly being forced past it as the screaming horde of orcs continued to push on the weakening shield. He only had a few seconds.
He had no other choice. He took his left hand, which wore one of his magical rings, and brought it to his lips. The ring was a Telsirium storage device. Addalis was not proficient in the use of Telsirium magic, earth magic, so it was not as easy for him to collect the energy from the objects around him. Telsirium experts could quickly draw energy from their surroundings and manipulate it into a variety of spells. Addalis could not, at least not very well. But what he could do was slowly collect the energy in his ring, storing it for when it was needed. And he needed it now. He quickly whispered a word, triggering the ring’s power, and instantly felt the connection to the magic stored there. There wasn’t much, but it would be enough.
Pulling the energy from the ring, he wrapped it around the grate, easily lifting it and sliding it forward. It only took a second. Then he looked up just as the magic from his shield unraveled.
He screamed as he quickly leaped forward, tucking in his arms and dropping blindly into the dark hole, barely missing the heavy edge of an orc blade as it zipped by his head. As he fell he heard the orcs howl above him, their booted feet sounding like a herd of Tarsinian cattle. The sounds faded quickly as he hit the ground hard, falling face first into a pool of dirty water. He rolled to his side as a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him. His head pounded and he tried to fight off the blackness that was creeping in from all directions, but it was to no avail, and with a final sigh Addalis lost the battle to stay conscious.
It wasn’t long before they heard the howling and roars of the orcs moving in fast behind them. It was difficult to assess the distance, for sounds traveled quickly down the narrow corridor. It sounded as if the hoard of orcs were right on their heels. Jonas glanced back, his God Light revealing the worried expressions of his companions.
“They are gaining on us!” yelled King Kromm who was bringing up the rear of the party. “Move, Jonas! Faster!”
Just as Jonas was about to turn and run as the king had suggested, he caught sight of Allindrian bounding down the dark hallway towards them, her long strides eating up the distance as if the tunnel were fully lit and not blanketed with mud and water.
She reached them quickly; her eyes uncharacteristically filled with worry.
“Where is Addalis?” the king asked urgently.
“I don’t think he made it, Sire, but I cannot be sure,” Allindrian replied. “But we must move. They are not far behind.”
The king growled in frustration turning his fierce eyes towards Jonas. “Get us out of here, Cavalier.”
Without a word Jonas turned and ran down the dark passageway, his God Light covering the shadowy stone walls with a bright glow. They ran for several hundred paces before Jonas’s chest again burned with warning. Another enemy must be close.
Jonas, heeding the warning, slowed cautiously, on the lookout for this new danger. Half expecting to see some powerful enemy rushing at them, he was surprised to see a slowly moving band of figures lurching toward them. As they approached, he realized why they were approaching slowly. They were already dead. Incredibly, a group of rotting corpses was marching inexorably toward them. The queen and the others bumped into Jonas as he stopped abruptly at the sight.
“What is it?” the queen asked. The corridor had widened a little, but not much, and only two could stand abreast in the tunnel with weapons drawn. “In Ulren’s name, what are they?” she asked again, her voice cracking with fear.
“The dead, it is a trap,” Jonas said, stating the obvious as the endless stream of corpses made their way towards them. Most of the hoard of men and women looked like walking skeletons draped in putrid flesh. Some, however, resembled their more human counterparts, except for their pasty and bloated skin. Whatever clothing they wore hung on them like rags, their hair hanging in similar fashion, stringy, and in some cases ripped off in patches or even completely gone. They were only twenty paces away, but they kept advancing from the darkness in a horrific jerky gait.
Jonas felt a soft hand on his arm and looked over to see Myrell. Her face, white with fear, looked at him with absolute horror. “Jonas, what are we to do?”
“We fight! We have no other choice!” Durgen growled, pushing past them to stand in front of the corpses who were slowly closing the distance. They could smell them now, their rotting stench wafted towards them almost making them retch, the tight confines and lack of air amplifying the odor.
As they prepared to do battle with the corpses, they were suddenly accosted by the din of howls from close behind them, so close that they could hear the pounding of booted feet as the orcs pursued them down the dark corridor.
“Prepare yourselves!” yelled the king behind them. “Dandronis and Fil, stay behind me! Durgen and Jonas, take the front, and Allindrian, fill any gaps if either are to fall! Kilius and Riker, stay in the middle with Myrell and Sorana! Jonas?”
“Yes?” Jonas asked, glancing back at the king.
“Make a hole through these abominations. I will hold off the orcs. If we stay in this tunnel then we will die. We need an exit!”
And with that the king turned to face the advancing orcs, spreading his large muscular arms so wide they totally encompassed the width of the tunnel. His huge biceps bulged and the veins in his arms pulsed as blood pounded through his giant frame. Holding his large sword in one hand, he yelled defiantly as loud as he could, his booming voice echoing down the corridor.
“Durgen, get out of the way!” yelled Jonas, as he called on his God Fire. The magic answered his call, and he felt the power rise from within him. Durgen jumped back behind Jonas, remembering the damage he had caused in the Hallows, just as a corpse reached out toward the dwarf. Jonas pointed both swords toward the walking dead, one blade tip just touching the closest undead when he released his God Fire.
The undead near Jonas’s swords were engulfed in blue flames, so searing and powerful that they blew through the decomposing bodies, instantly converting them to ash. The corpses behind the undead in the front also erupted in flames, turning to ash as the force of the God Fire launched twenty paces down the tunnel destroying a
nything that it touched. The heat and power from the fire created a wind tunnel that blew all the ash and remains down the dark corridor.
Everyone covered their eyes and ducked behind Jonas to avoid the intense heat as the flames created a swath of destruction. The roaring flames continued for several moments more before they disappeared, leaving behind a corridor filled with the falling ashes of the burnt corpses.
“Let’s move!” Jonas yelled, leading them forward cautiously as they made their way through the ash and charred remains of the undead. But they had only gone a handful of paces before they saw more of the creatures moving towards them from the dark corridor.
“Can you use your fire again?” Myrell asked.
“I can, but I best not. I need to conserve my energy. Durgen,” Jonas said, turning toward the dwarf, “get your axe ready.”
“Aye,” replied the taciturn dwarf as he and Jonas stepped forward to face more of the undead.
Luckily for Kromm, Jonas’s light was powerful enough to shed light in both directions. The orcs appeared in Jonas’s light so quickly that Kromm only had a few moments before they were on him. He was ready for them though, and he roared like a man possessed, his great magical sword sweeping left and right, cutting through orc armor and flesh. Any unfortunate Gould-Irin that managed to escape his dangerous blade had to face the powerful force of his fists and feet. The corridor quickly became a scene of chaos as the group fought for their lives.
The fighting was fierce on both sides as Durgen and Jonas slowly pushed their way through the walking dead. Though slow, and possessing no weapons other than their hands and teeth, they were not hampered by feeling fear or pain, and their advance was relentless. But Jonas and Durgen were also relentless, cutting into the macabre hoard with continuous steady strokes. It wasn’t long before they had developed a rhythm together, his swords swinging high, slicing through necks and chopping off arms, while Durgen’s axe cut into knees and legs, dropping the corpses to the ground where Myrell, Riker, and Allindrian would finish them off by dismembering them completely as they stepped over the bodies. They had to work quickly as the undead did not stop, regardless of losing an arm or leg. The only way to put them out of commission was to make their movements impossible.
The problem became apparent quickly. There were so many of them that the sheer weight of their numbers began to push into the two warriors, slowing them down drastically. It was taking them too long to cut them to pieces, and as soon as one was completely dispatched, there were three more pushing into them. Kilius and Riker used their blades to further dismember any undead who continued to writhe and wiggle on the ground at their feet, but they never really completely died.
Kromm was facing the same problem. Orc weapons continued to pound away at the giant warrior. As the king dropped one beast to the ground, two more took its place. Finally an orc weapon broke through his defenses and sliced across his shoulder guard. The power of the blow was tremendous, but hitting Kromm was like striking a boulder. His armor deflected the blow and he returned the strike with a lightning quick jab to its jaw, just as he yanked his blade from the chest of another. The orc’s head snapped back and the stunned beast barely had time to refocus before Kromm’s magical blade took its head off, easily cutting through flesh, armor, and bone. But more orcs reached out for him and he was forced to retreat, hastily changing the momentum of his blade from left to right, taking off two orc arms at the elbows. Covered in the blood of battle, he roared his defiance as he dug deep for more energy to continue his reckless onslaught.
Jonas desperately prayed to Shyann for more strength as he felt his arms tire. Bodies were piled up around them and they had to step over the still moving body parts as they slowly advanced. But as Jonas prayed, he began to feel Shyann’s strength infuse him. The fatigue that gripped him evaporated and his heart pumped fresh re-energized blood throughout his body.
“Durgen, take rest! Allindrian move up!” Jonas yelled over the chaos of the fighting.
Durgen was a dwarf, tough as the rock in which they lived, but he was also smart, and it made no sense to waste his energy when there were others to share the burden. Besides, there was no glory in killing the walking dead. So he swung his axe through the neck of a nearby corpse and jumped back just as Allindrian scooted forward with a downward chop of her sword, relieving the decapitated corpse of one of its arms. She was still fresh, and her movements were quick and devastating.
Jonas and Allindrian worked side by side, their sword work was precision at its best. There was no need to parry or dodge; they simply swung their magical blades in rhythmic slashes, the sound of Allindrian’s blade singing joyously in the tunnel.
Kromm must have killed twenty orcs before he was finally cut. One orc, out of frustration, threw his heavy sword at Kromm’s face. Kromm just got his hand up in time to take the full brunt of the sword’s impact. It was just his bad luck that the bladed side of the heavy sword struck the underside of his wrist, cutting through his leather guard and slicing flesh. The power of the throw also knocked his head back causing him to stumble, giving another orc enough time to swing its sword across Kromm’s plated thigh. The thick steel blade hit Kromm’s leg hard, nearly taking his leg out from under him. Luckily his armor was dwarven made and it stopped the sharp edge from cutting through flesh. The strike, however, bruised his leg severely, and the force of the impact caused Kromm to stumble back even further.
Dandronis was standing behind King Kromm just as the monarch stumbled to the right. The sturdy warrior reacted quickly, lunging forward and taking the attacking orc in the gut just under its steel chest plate. But the Gould-Irin’s momentum carried him forward and he tripped over Kromm’s leg, falling towards Dandronis. The Tarsinian warrior jumped back, swinging his sword across the back of the orc’s neck, killing it instantly. Kromm regained his position by pushing off the stone wall with his right hand, launching forward and shoulder striking another charging orc. Normally an attack such as this would have little effect on a Gould-Irin, but Kromm was not built like a normal man, he was equally their size and strength. Consequently, the beast flew backwards into its comrades giving Kromm enough time to get his blade up, reforming their defensive wall of steel.
“Jonas, there must be a cleric or dark wizard before us somewhere!” Allindrian yelled over the sounds of battle. “Someone raised these dead!”
“I had thought of that!” Jonas yelled back, whipping both blades across the neck of a large walking corpse attired in old rusty armor. He must have been a warrior at some point, long dead, and now brought from his resting place and forced to take part in this abhorrent deed. The warrior’s head flew off easily, but the big corpse continued on, reaching for Jonas’s throat. Jonas kicked out with his right leg, striking it in the chest. It did little damage but it knocked the beast back far enough where he could now maneuver his blue glowing swords left and right, slicing off both its arms.
“Jonas, look to your right!” Queen Sorana yelled from behind him. Jonas glanced in that direction and saw another passageway a pace ahead of them. It was narrow and pitch black and Jonas had been too busy keeping the undead away from them to notice it.
“Do you see it, Allindrian?” Jonas yelled through deep breaths as they neared the narrow passage.
“I do, should we take it?”
“It can’t be worse than here!” Jonas yelled. “Allindrian, lead them through! I will stay here with Durgen to hold them off!
Kromm, attired in the blood and grime of battle, continued to fight furiously and did not hear the exchange of words behind him. He had suffered several cuts, and though Fil and Dandronis joined in the fight where they could, mostly they just stood behind the giant warrior waiting for an orc to slip through. But few did. Kromm was unstoppable.
“My Lord, there is a tunnel to your right! We are slipping through it!” Fil yelled, hoping the king would hear him over his battle frenzy. “Jonas and Durgen are holding the gap while we slip through!”
Just then the dark corridor beyond the mass of orcs was illuminated by an orange ball of fire. The bright ball of fire, appearing small in the distance, rapidly enlarged as it neared them. Kromm was distracted by several orcs but Dandronis clearly saw the danger the fireball presented.
“My King, move!” he yelled. Dandronis’s instinct was to duck to avoid the flying ball of fire, but if he did that, the ball would likely strike the others behind him, so he did the only other thing he could. He shoulder charged the king, sending the startled warrior crashing into the stone wall and out of the direct path of the fireball. Luckily for everyone behind Dandronis, the ball of fire hit the orc’s head in front of him, exploding in orange flame, and releasing a tremendous amount of energy, the brunt of which was taken by Dandronis and the nearby orcs.
Luckily, Myrell, Queen Sorana, and Riker had just slipped through the narrow opening after Allindrian. But Dandronis was blown from his feet and he flew backwards with tremendous force, crashing into Durgen who was still trying to keep the undead at bay.
The rest of the group, however, was caught in the fiery inferno that exploded around them, slamming them all to the ground in a tangle of limbs and searing fire. The power of the blast sent Fil crashing into the stone wall, knocking the wind from his lungs as flames painfully seared his flesh before disappearing just as fast as it had arrived.
Everyone had fallen to the ground, badly burned. Even Jonas’s armor did not fully protect him from the powerful blast. Over a score of orcs had taken most of the brunt of the fireball spell, since it had struck one in the back of the head, sending most of its power backwards into the rest of the beasts. Whoever had cast the spell did not care about killing their own; they simply wanted to destroy the fleeing party. The flames had also caught several of the undead in the sudden inferno, blowing them backwards and tumbling them to the ground.
Jonas managed to rouse himself first, and rushed over to Dandronis, who was sprawled inertly near the king. One look told him that there was nothing he could do. The warrior’s right arm was missing as well as part of his left foot. Dandronis’s armor had melted and fused into his flesh.
The Cavalier Trilogy: Book 02 - The Rise of Malbeck Page 31
