Five Kingdoms: Book 07 - Wizard Falling

by Toby Neighbors

  “I don’t plan to die,” Mansel said.

  “All men die,” Quinn said. “We can’t stop that, but we can determine how we meet death. I want to die well. I want to die knowing that my death means something.”

  “Your life means more.”

  “I guess it’s almost time,” Quinn said.

  Officers on horseback came riding down the line of men calling out orders. Quinn and Mansel were on the western side of the village. They followed the troops out from the mountains, to the far southern edge of the town. The plan was simple. They would fight the enemy until they were pushed back, at which time they would fall back and wait for the enemy at the foot of the mountains. Once the enemy was close enough to engage, the town would be set ablaze. The hope was that the fire would not only kill many of the enemy soldiers, but it would slow their attack and confuse them. The steep hills that led up the mountain sides were covered with pine trees. The king’s army would fall back and take the high ground. There could be no coordinated defense from that point on, it would just be a bloody fight to the finish. Quinn and Mansel had staked out a small place from which to fight. They had even stashed some rations and water skins there in case they had time to replenish their strength.

  The rain began to fall, what was snow in the mountains was slushy fat drops of half frozen water that stung whatever skin was exposed. Mansel stood like a statute, almost as if he were unaware of the danger coming or the freezing rain falling on them. Quinn shivered, the cold crept down into his bones. He wished the enemy would hurry up and arrive just so he could warm up through physical exertion.

  He and Mansel were on the end of the line of the western portion of fighters. When the enemy finally came within sight, the soldiers made a shield wall, their thick, wooden shields overlapping and their short, killing swords held at the ready. Mansel stood with his sword propped on his shoulder. It was becoming a familiar look for the big warrior. Quinn glanced over and was surprised to see him smiling.

  “What are you so happy about?”

  “I’m ready to crack some heads!” Mansel said, enthusiastically.

  The whirring of the Leffer’s wings made Quinn nervous. He was near the front edge of the town. The line of fighters had left the broad road running through the center of Walheta’s Gate undefended. It made Quinn feel exposed. He was nervous, but not because he had something to lose, but rather because he felt like this was the end of his life and he wouldn’t know what happened to Zollin. He had many regrets, but none more than not knowing what had become of his son. He had come to terms with Zollin’s death, even though he had no way of knowing if Zollin had died. He had hoped to see his son happy, but the last year had proved to Quinn that Zollin would never have a normal life. His gift was too great. Quinn couldn’t deny he felt his time with Zollin had been too short, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He was facing a horrible army of what looked like giants to Quinn. He would stand shoulder to shoulder with Mansel for as long as he could. In Quinn’s mind he couldn’t think of a better way to die.

  A black dragon soared over them. Quinn and Mansel both strained to see if Brianna was riding the beast. Then it dove. It was well past the front lines of the enemy, and the Leffers were already rising up to engage the dragon. Quinn thought he could see two streams of fire pouring down onto the enemy. He didn’t envy the poor creatures caught in the fiery blast. Almost all the Leffers they could see pursued the dragon. Quinn and Mansel watched the aerial battle for as long as they could. It was a marvel to see the dragon diving and wheeling through the sky. If any Leffer got too close the dragon blasted it with fire. And, to Quinn’s relief, whenever any of the winged horse creatures got too close behind, balls of fire shot back at them.

  The air over the horde of creatures marching steadily toward them became thick with smoke which blended into the dark clouds above. As if to signal the dire nature of the fight about to start, thunder rumbled.

  “An ominous sign,” Quinn said.

  “Yes,” Mansel agreed, “but for them or for us.”

  There were orders shouted behind the front lines and then the sound of hundreds of bowstrings being released. The arrows whistled through the air as they arced up into the sky. It was impossible to see the dark missiles against the gloomy sky above. Quinn strained to see the arrows fall. They didn’t see the volley strike, but they saw dozens of the enemy fall to the ground. At first Quinn was heartened by the sight of the enemy falling wounded, but then he saw their comrades not just ignoring the wounded, but trampling them.

  “Good Gods,” said Quinn, “they’re trampling they’re own men.”

  “Brianna said they don’t stop for anything. They didn’t even try to defend themselves from the arrows.”

  Quinn shook his head. He couldn’t fathom such ruthless killers. He waited while more volleys of arrows fell. He had expected the enemy to break into a run to cross the killing ground that lay between the two hosts, but the mutated army just trudged along, oblivious to any danger.

  More fell to the arrows, but there was no gap in the horde, for every one that fell more took its place. Finally the enemy had closed the distance to less than 50 paces. Mansel was swaying back and forth, looking more like a caged beast than a fighter. Quinn looked down the line of men. They looked terrified and Quinn realized that despite all the planning and effort, the king’s army would be overrun. Many of the troops in the shield wall were shaking visibly. Their best efforts wouldn’t stop the hoard of monsters. The absolute futility of it all made Quinn angry.

  “What the hell are we waiting for?” he said.

  Mansel nodded and the two men charged. The army watched as Quinn and Mansel dashed the last 40 paces toward the enemy. Mansel was a big man, taller than Quinn, with a thick barrel chest, large shoulders and arms. The enemy was bigger still, head and shoulders above Mansel. They carried large pieces of metal. There was no finesse to their weapons, no skill in the craftsmanship. Just heavy lengths of iron, most of them red with rust, and with one side ground to a cutting edge.

  Quinn carried the same short sword he always used. On his left arm was strapped a round shield, smaller than they heavy oak shields with the iron bosses the army troops carried. Quinn’s was simple wood with a thin band of iron around the edge. He charged straight at the nearest of the mutated soldiers, which happened to be a huge man, with long greasy hair that hung around his shoulders. The man was just raising his weapon when Quinn stabbed his short sword into his groin. The mutated creature groaned and bent forward, but Quinn thrust him back, ripping his sword out in an arc of black blood. The mutated soldier crashed into his fellows behind him, causing several to stumble and giving Quinn a moment before the next attack.

  Mansel was in constant motion. His first opponent fell when Mansel’s sword slashed through his throat. Then, before the soldier had even fallen to his knees, Mansel swung around and severed the arm of the next. He slashed and hacked. Many of the mutated soldiers were too slow to get their weapons into position before they were dispatched.

  Quinn’s greatest asset had always been his speed and ruthlessness in battle. He hung back though, after his initial attack. Mansel fought hard and Quinn took up a position behind his friend, making sure the surge of enemy soldiers didn’t strike him from behind.

  The soldiers kept marching, those on either side of Mansel and Quinn ignored them completely, content to simply march past. Soon the multitude of enemies reached the shield wall of the king’s army. The mindless soldiers lifted their weapons to attack, but most were slain before they could strike down at their opponents. When the heavy swords of the enemy army did fall, the shields of the king’s army stopped the blows, but often ruined the shield.

  Eventually the bigger, stronger soldiers of the witch’s army began to overcome the shield wall. Quinn heard the screams and shouts from the line of soldiers. The commanders, watching from the ridge above, waited until the shield wall broke, then they blew their war horns signalling the king’s army to ret
reat.

  “We have to fall back!” Quinn shouted.

  Mansel was in a blood fury. He was cutting down the enemy solders left and right. Some managed to strike at the big warrior, but his sword stopped every blow. The mutated soldiers had no sword skill, it was butchery striking them down. Mansel didn’t seem to have any qualms about hacking through the horrid masses, though. They were forced to move because the bodies piled up around them and acted like a rock in a stream, dividing the flow of enemy soldiers. When the horns sounded and Mansel didn’t respond to Quinn, who was selectively picking off the soldiers that trudged past on either side of Mansel, he grabbed the big warrior’s belt and began pulling him backward.

  “What are you doing?” Mansel cried.

  “We have to fall back!”

  Mansel finally understood. He followed Quinn, but kept a watch over his shoulder to make sure they weren’t attacked as they moved through the throng. Quinn had no problems clearing a lane through the huge, mindless fighters. They offered little or no defense when facing them head on, and from behind, they were like lambs to the slaughter. It was Quinn’s turn to hack and slash their way forward. They had to tread over the bodies of the fallen, taking care not to fall. Once, when Quinn lost his footing, Mansel caught him by the arm and hauled him upright.

  They were well into the mass of monsters and it took considerable time to fight their way out. They finally broke through the front lines of the horde just before the monsters reached the foot of the mountains. They were running through the trees when the flaming arrows fell into the village. Quinn stopped, leaning against a tree as he panted for breath. It was difficult watching his work over the past several days go up in smoke.

  “Damn!” Mansel said.

  Quinn wasn’t sure if Mansel was referring to the feasting hall bursting into flames, or the endless sea of mutated soldiers still marching toward them. The enemy filled the hills below as far as Quinn could see.

  “No time for mourning now,” Quinn said. “We’ve got to get to our position.”

  They pushed on, climbing higher up the mountainside.

  “I think they’ve slowed,” Mansel said once they reached the small clearing they had staked out for themselves.

  Quinn turned, his side aching from the climb. He was leaning forward, his hands on his knees as he gasped for breath. It was hard to see through the trees.

  “So the… fire worked?” he asked.

  “I guess,” Mansel said. “It’s hard to tell. It could just be the mountain. Maybe they have trouble climbing.”

  “That wouldn’t surprise me,” Quinn added. “They’re bodies are so deformed.”

  “They hardly fight at all, and they’re so slow.”

  “But they’re strong,” Quinn said. “And what they lack in sword skills, they make up for in sheer numbers.”

  “I wish the soldiers understood how easy it is to kill the bastards. Maybe they wouldn’t run away so easily.”

  “What is easy for you may not be so easy for the rest of us, have you ever considered that? Besides, most of the king’s army are conscripted farmers. When it comes to swordplay, they aren’t much different than the enemy. Just warm bodies on the field intended to overwhelm their opponents.”

  “They won’t overwhelm me,” Mansel said.

  “Well, however well they can climb or however many of them come this way, its going to be a long night.”

  Chapter 27

  Brianna had divided the dragons. She and Sorva flew toward Walheta’s Gate, while the others fanned out among the strongholds manned by the dwarves. She would have preferred to keep the pride together. She didn’t know if she would ever see any of them again. They could all be overwhelmed and slaughtered, but there was no way to avoid the fight ahead. It was what the dragons had come for, somehow Zollin had convinced them that they should help.

  She wondered what Zollin was doing now? Had he defeated the witch or had she defeated him. Brianna had no idea, and there was no guarantee that if he did defeat Gwendolyn the massive army of mutated slaves would turn back. All she knew for sure was that she could help in the fight, so she focused her mind on that task alone.

  It was mid afternoon by the time she saw Walheta’s gate in the distance. She could see farther and more clearly than an eagle, but the dragons could see farther still. Sorva sent Brianna a mental image of the far distance. The massive army was almost to the small village. They flew fast and low, streaking over the ridge where General Hausey and his staff watched the enemy approaching. They had long brass telescopes, but by that time Brianna could see the enemy in the distance. Below her, along the pass, she saw a large group of reserve troops, along with the wagons of the supply train. Her eyes focused in on a familiar woman standing in the back of a wagon filled with bandages and medicinal supplies. Nycoll was straining to see what was happening on the battlefield.

  Sorva flew on, over the deserted village and past the lines of troops. She saw the king’s soldiers stretched out in a long line to either side of the village. She wasn’t sure what the plan was, but it seemed obvious to her that they wanted the approaching army to funnel through the abandoned settlement. She saw Quinn and Mansel standing side by side. Just seeing the two of them made her feel more confident. Mansel looked relaxed with his sword resting on his shoulder. Quinn was swaying from side to side, his shoulders hunched. Brianna guessed he was cold. She was too, the rain pelting down on them all was nearly frozen, but as they flew out ahead of the King’s Army, she didn’t have time to feel cold. The Leffers were already rising in the air to meet her and Sorva, and there were more of the hateful creatures than Brianna had expected.

  Sorva angled up, flapping its black wings hard to gain altitude and speed. Brianna’s blood seemed to boil just from seeing the Leffers with their wretched faces and long, flowing hair. She wanted to kill every one of them for what they did to Selix and Gyia. They shot past the front lines of the enemy where the Leffers were flying up to engage them. Then Sorva dove, blasting fire in long straight stream. Brianna leaned to her right and added her own stream of fire to the attack.

  The mindless mutants were roasted, those nearest the flames dashed back, clashing into those around them who seemed not to notice the attack all. Brianna guessed dozens of the soldiers were killed, and many more were frightened but she knew her attack was merely a drop in the bucket. Even as Sorva rose up from the attack, Brianna saw the enemy horde stretching as far into the distance as she could see.

  Then Sorva wheeled, turning in the sky to face the Leffers who were charging at them now. Brianna guessed there were close to two hundred of the centaur creatures. Sorva bobbed up, then dove down, blasting fire at the creatures as it did. The flames flashed in the air and black smoke blocked Brianna’s view for a moment. Her shirt caught fire but she ignored it. The flames couldn’t hurt her and she had expected her clothes to be burned away during the course of the battle. They dove under the hooves of the Leffers, Sorva spewing flames upward as they passed. Brianna let two more streams of fire billow out from her hands which were angled to either side of the black dragon. A dozen of the huge creatures fell behind them, their bodies blackened, their insectile wings reduced to ash.

  Brianna twisted to see the bodies of the Leffers who fell crashing down on top of the unsuspecting soldiers below. She couldn’t help but smile at the destruction they had caused. The Leffers turned to pursue them, a few were close enough that Brianna threw balls of fire at them. The flaming spheres flew easily through the air and burst apart on contact. The fireballs weren’t strong enough to kill the Leffers outright, but they were more than sufficient to roast the creatures’ wings, causing them to fall to their deaths.

  Sorva swooped down, raining fire on the mutated army again before looping up, twisting in mid air so Brianna didn’t risk falling off the dragon’s back. This time Sorva flexed her mighty black wings and the dragon shot past the wave of Leffers, once again dousing the front runners in flames. Brianna focused on each of the beast
s she wanted to kill, shooting fountains of flame straight at the wicked creatures.

  The Leffers tried a new tactic, spreading out instead of pursuing Sorva as a group. Brianna frowned when she saw the change in the Leffers’ behavior. She didn’t know if the creatures themselves were intelligent, but somehow they were coordinating their efforts though she didn’t see them communicating. She didn’t know if they could somehow send messages mentally, the way the dragons did, or if they were simply responding to her attack instinctively. Either way, she recognized her job was going to be more difficult than ever.

  “Don’t worry about the soldiers on the ground,” Brianna shouted to Sorva. “We can’t let the Leffers overwhelm us. Let’s go higher.”

  Sorva climbed high into the sky, but stayed just below the thick blanket of clouds. Brianna threw down fiery bombs at the Leffers. The flying horse creatures weren’t fast, but they were agile enough to dodge her blasts easily enough. Brianna kept the balls of fire together all the way down to the ground, so that even if the Leffer’s evaded her attacks the bombs would kill the soldiers on the ground. Keeping the fireballs together took intense focus on Brianna’s part. She could summon fire at will and produce heat so high that it turned solid rock into liquid fire, but without something for the fire to burn, she had to feed it with her own will, a task that grew more difficult the farther away the fire was.

  The Leffers followed, flying higher and higher as Sorva circled. Brianna realized they needed to engage the Leffers, but she wasn’t sure how to do so without endangering Sorva. Then an idea occurred to her.

  “Go up,” Brianna said, “through the clouds. We’ll attack them as they come through after us.”

  Sorva obeyed instantly. There was no feeling of Brianna ordering the dragon, they were a team. The clouds were thick and cold, but once they burst through they had to blink in the bright radiance of the late afternoon sunshine that made the clouds glow in the golden light. Sorva turned and glided, waiting for the Leffers to follow them up through the clouds. Then the first of the wretched monsters appeared and Sorva pounced. They sped toward the creature, who, like Sorva and Brianna, was blinded momentarily by the brilliant light. Below the clouds the world was gray and the clouds dark. Above them, the world was bright, the sky above was bright blue, the clouds snow white. The Leffer didn’t see them coming until it was too late.