by Kris A Hiatt
It was all he’d manage to say before her dagger found his throat as well.
With three of the five dispatched here, and the one in the loft, Jass knew her mission was going to be a success.
The remaining archer started to retreat, calling out for help as he moved. But the fool was in such a hurry and so distressed that he tripped on his own feet and fell to the ground. Jass sprang atop him in an instant, clasping her left hand over his mouth, silencing him, and driving her dagger deep into his chest.
She ripped her dagger free, jumped up and spun around, ready to defend herself from the one remaining man.
She wasn’t expecting to see that the man hadn’t pulled his weapon from its scabbard. She also wasn’t expecting to see him crying when she turned around.
“Please don’t kill me,” the man begged, holding his hands in the air. “I believed you were a virgin. I never said anything contrary!”
Did he really think all of this was over that? Could he truly be so stupid that he thought she attacked because they said she wasn’t a virgin? Not only did most men think with their crotch, but most were also idiots. This one was surely the latter. And a coward. She hated both.
“Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. Don’t cry,” she said calmly as she approached him.
“You won’t kill me?” the man asked, hope clear in his voice.
Once she got to him, she kissed him quickly. Not because she was interested in him, but because sometimes you just have to kiss people goodbye. “I never said that,” she told him as she plunged her dagger deep into his belly.
He whimpered in pain and fell to his knees.
“Men, you’re so gullible,” she told him, then slashed his throat.
Jass looked around, making sure no one witnessed her attack. It was cold and the fight at the south gate had already began. Who wanted to wander the streets at a time like that? She was confident she was in the clear.
She covered the blood-stained snow with clean snow and moved the bodies to a seated position around the fire just in case. At least this way they would appear to be alive from any decent distance away. It may be odd that they’d be sitting down, but someone would have to get closer to notice anything truly out of sorts. She was certain a patrol would come by eventually. And when they did, she’d add them to her collection.
With that done, she retrieved her dress without incident and hung it from the top of the wall so that it could be seen from those outside of the city. Its bright yellow color was quite the contrast from the brown wood and white snow. She thought it should be visible from quite a distance.
Then she unlocked the gate, went to the wall to retrieve the heavy cloak that she had stolen and wrapped it about her to help keep the cold at bay. Then she went to the bell to wait for Disdane’s arrival.
Quite pleased with her work she began to hum her tune. After she started she realized that no one was around to hear her, so instead of humming, she sang the last few lines.
“With each empty husk
my fame grows further and further
To the point that soon
you’ll hear of Jass and think of murder.”
Chapter 25
“Men approaching!” one of the spotters called out.
“How many?” Raythien yelled from the back.
“About as many as us, and they’re coming from our right. Looks like they’re staying away from the wall,” came the man’s reply.
“How far out?” Raythien asked.
“Just left the main force,” the man called back.
Treace looked back at Raythien, who was already making his way toward him.
“We need to get back to the walls,” Treace told him.
“We can make it safely if we leave now,” Raythien said.
“But you don’t want to,” Kiril replied.
“I don’t,” Raythien admitted.
“We don’t have enough trained with the sword to fight them off,” Treace warned. “It’s too risky.” The group was mostly townsfolk who volunteered for this specific mission. They were supposed to fire their arrows and retreat when pressed. The townsfolk weren’t melee fighters. There were only a handful of soldiers among them, and of course Treace and Kiril, but that wouldn’t be enough to fight off nearly fifty enemies.
“We have archers,” Raythien reminded them. “We don’t need to engage in melee combat.”
“But most of them haven’t been trained for anything other than these volleys,” Moffred argued as he joined them.
“I trust in them,” Raythien replied. “Besides, we haven’t moved them far enough to the bay. We need to push them further.”
Treace looked back at the men and women holding their bows at the ready. Most were nodding their heads, but most wore a determined look on their faces, which Treace took for their agreement with Raythien. The more enemies they removed from the battle the better, plus Raythien was right. In order for Primain to have a legitimate chance at getting back to the main force after his strike, he’d need to cover less ground. That wouldn’t happen if Treace and his group didn’t keep firing from here. “I won’t make you stay, but if you want to, I won’t force you to leave either. If you’re going to leave, do so now and we’ll cover your retreat,” Treace told them.
Not a single person moved.
“Our families are in there,” one woman said. “If we don’t fight for them, who will?”
Many agreed with that sentiment.
“My wife is right. You trained us to fight and that’s what we’re going to do,” the man next to the woman said proudly, grabbing his wife’s hand.
Treace could only imagine how they were feeling. Their children were in the city and they were out here doing whatever they could to protect them. He didn’t have any children, but he imagined that if he did, it would be incredibly difficult to be away from them at a time like this. He simply nodded his head in agreement and silently admired them for their strength.
“Fan out!” Raythien ordered. “Pick your targets and be slow. Don’t fire too fast!”
The men and women each grabbed a handful of arrows and began to spread out.
“Be wary of the sky,” Treace warned. “If men are approaching us, arrows are sure to precede them.”
“They trust in their leader,” Kiril said, dropping her bow as she moved past him toward her fist weapons. “So do I.”
“Let’s just hope it isn’t misplaced,” Treace said under his breath.
After ensuring that arrows weren’t on their way, Raythien began organizing the group. He moved back and forth, getting the people set up in two lines, spaced several paces apart. The back row was offset from the first, allowing a safe shooting lane.
Shamir’s men slowed at the sight. Apparently either the formation or the sheer number of them gave their enemy pause. Treace decided it best to not let that go unnoticed. The morale of his group was high. He wanted to keep it that way. “Look at them, they are scared of the sight of us. Let’s see how scared they are when our arrows start picking them off before they can get here.”
The opposition did fan out more, and staggered their approach. Those that had shields brought them up protectively in front of them. Treace gave them credit for adapting.
“Remember, slow and smooth,” Raythien reminded them. “Pick your targets carefully! Aim for the ones without shields.”
“Draw!” Raythien ordered.
Treace picked the lead man out and drew back. He concentrated on the spot just below the neck, where the man’s yellow undershirt, poked out of his armor.
“Loose!” Raythien called out.
Treace let go of his bowstring and watched the arrow sail toward his enemy. It sailed high.
Some of the others fared better, but not many. Treace counted four enemies down. They’d need better results than that to not be overrun by the time they got into melee range.
Raythien called for them to draw back yet again.
They fired.
Treace missed agai
n, but the rest of the group brought six more down.
The enemies were getting closer. Treace estimated that they’d only be able to fire one or two more times before being engaged. Treace guessed there would still be at around twenty men left in the fight at that point. They couldn’t take on that many. He had to give the real archers more time.
“Here,” he said, dropping his remaining arrows at Moff’s feet. “I’m just wasting these. You won’t.”
“What are you doing?” Moff asked, drawing back his bow at Raythien’s command.
“What I do best,” Treace assured him, pulling his swords from their scabbards. He wasn’t a very good archer, but he was an excellent swordsman. It was time to show it. It was time to turn into the persona that Moff created. These people needed him, needed The Wolf. He was not going to let them down.
“Not without me you’re not,” Kiril informed him, her fist weapons laced and ready to go.
“Soldiers!” Treace commanded. “On me. We need to give them time to fire!”
The five soldiers tossed their bows aside, picked up their shields, and drew their weapons. Not that Treace saw them, though, he was already moving into the snow-covered field.
“Take care with your shots,” Raythien yelled out. “We don’t want to hit our own!”
Treace thought that now was a good time to be on the offensive. The opposition was not in any type of formation and their men were staggered. Treace and his small melee force were outnumbered, but he felt they stood a better chance now than if they allowed their enemies to regroup and form a true defensive posture.
“I’m going right,” Kiril said from somewhere behind him.
Treace noticed their enemies skirting to his right, most likely in an attempt to circle around them. “Take the flank to the far right,” Treace commanded the other men. “We don’t want them to get around us.”
His soldiers said nothing, but did exactly as Treace instructed them to do. They formed a line, starting with Treace and Kiril on the left, and expanded fifty yards or so out to Treace’s right.
Treace stalked forward, eyes set upon the lead man. He had to be in his thirties and held a sword in one hand and hefted a shield in the other. The man looked around, whether for support or simply to get his bearings Treace couldn’t be certain. It didn’t matter. He would get to him before anyone could offer the man support.
He sprang ahead, bounding through the snow, ignoring the cold dampness that had crept into his feet. He shut out the cold and pressed on, ready to fight to protect his friends.
The man veered away from Treace and started to move toward Kiril, but Treace angled that direction and quickened his pace, cutting him off.
Just as Treace arrived, the man squared off to him. Treace slashed in hard with his left. Before the blade had even connected with that of his opponent, he thrust in hard with his right, aiming for a point just over the man’s shield.
His opponent raised his shield in time to deflect the blow, just as Treace predicted. He squatted low and brought his other sword in from the left, putting all of his strength behind the strike.
The man’s right leg was nearly severed at the knee.
That enemy fell to the ground, blood spurting from his wound, crying out in pain. Dark red blood streaked the blanket of soft snow, a stark contrast to the white. Treace ignored both the screams and the blood and finished the man off before moving away, looking for his next fight.
To his right, Kiril was faced off with an enemy of her own. The man’s back was to him, but, trusting in her abilities, Treace decided to leave that one for her.
A battle cry coming from his left caught Treace’s attention. He turned to find a man running right for him. This man ran with a two-handed sword hoisted over his shoulder. He was muttering something to himself, perhaps a prayer, Treace wasn’t certain. The man let out a primal scream and rushed into the fray.
Treace pictured Disdane for a moment, but he pushed that thought aside. There was no time for reflection now. Only action.
The man swung his two-handed sword in viciously from the left.
Treace easily dodged back out of the way and sprang forward, thrusting ahead with his right sword as he did so. He felt warm blood splash onto his hand as his sword pierced the man’s leather armor and stomach. Treace followed that thrust up with a quick slash from his left, cutting deep into his opponent’s neck.
Satisfied that that one was done for, he looked for another foe.
Arrows fired from his group flew by him and took down a nearby man that had gotten within a handful of strides of his position. Treace turned toward the archers but couldn’t tell exactly who had taken the shots. He silently thanked the unknown shooters.
He noticed an enemy moving far to his left in an attempt to skirt around and get behind him, but Treace wouldn’t allow it. He exploded into motion, sprinting forward as fast as he could, making a line that would intercept the man.
No sooner did he start, he skidded to a halt.
His enemy had fallen to the ground with an arrow protruding through his chest and out his back.
He didn’t think, he just moved to the next body in line.
Moments later he found himself in front of another adversary who was a sword and shield user.
The man stopped in his tracks when Treace closed in on him. He raised his shield protectively in front of him.
Treace guessed that his opponent wanted to move the shield at the last moment and thrust forward as soon as Treace was in range. But that wouldn’t work, the young veteran had seen that move too many times before.
Treace walked in slowly, anticipating the man’s move. When the shield moved to the right, so did Treace, quickly side-stepping and deftly keeping it between him and his enemy.
His opponent thrust forward quickly, but struck nothing but air.
Treace stuck his left sword over the shield of his enemy and pulled down. Over top came his right sword, piercing the man’s chest.
Another man rushed in as soon as the body hit the ground and Treace promptly cut him down.
With another dead enemy at his feet, he looked around for another to fight. It was then that he noticed three combatants circling Kiril. She kept twisting and turning, trying to keep them from being directly behind her. She nearly tripped over the two crumpled bodies that lay at her feet. Beyond her three of the five other soldiers were down. Their line had broken and several enemies were moving toward the archers.
Treace didn’t hesitate, he sprinted toward Kiril, hoping he could join her before one of them cut her down.
He was only halfway there when his heart sank. She stumbled over one of the dead bodies again, this time dropping to a knee. The man in front of her rushed forward and brought his sword up high. Treace wasn’t close enough to intervene!
He smiled a heartbeat later when Kiril rose up from her kneeling position with the ferocity of a caged animal. Her stumble was a ruse! She leapt into the air, leading with her fist.
The force of her strike lifted the man off his feet and Treace grimaced at the sound of crunching bone beneath the weight of her blow.
As soon as she landed, she spun, ready to face the other two enemies.
Just as she set herself, the man closest to Treace burst into flames! His leather armor sizzled and his hair caught fire immediately. The man was literally burning alive.
Treace knew that Heral had just joined the battle, though he would have thought that Heral would have used a barrier instead of fire. Not that his tactic wasn’t effective.
The man opposite of Kiril had the look of shock and horror on his face as he backed away from his burning compatriot.
Screaming in pain, the man on fire dove to the ground on his belly and kept rolling his face in the snow and slapping at his head in an attempt to quell the flames. It was too late. Heral’s magical fire had already done its damage. Skin and flesh had melted and the bones beneath them were exposed.
Treace arrived at Kiril’s side, who wa
s stunned and stood there watching the man scream and burn alive. Treace drove his sword into the man’s back, sliding it through armor and flesh alike. He didn’t stop until the frozen ground under the man prevented his blade from going any further. Flames licked at Treace’s hands, but the screaming had thankfully stopped. The man had suffered for too long.
Treace removed his sword and the foul stench of burned hair and flesh wafted up his nose. He exhaled quickly and moved away.
“I didn’t know what to do,” Kiril told him, still looking over the dead, still burning body.
“It’s over now,” Treace replied. Her voice was shaky and her face had gone ashen. It was obvious to him that the scene had gotten to her. He understood completely and felt much the same way.
She finally stepped back, took a deep breath and began to look around.
Treace stepped to the side of the poor creature on the ground, ready to face the other man that had, surprisingly, not already attacked them. Treace supposed the other person was just as caught up in the grisly scene as they were.
As he readied himself to face the last man, Treace realized that the man wasn’t even there. He had ran from the frightening scene and was headed directly back toward the main force.
Moments later, a barrier formed over the retreating enemy, which Treace was mildly interested in. He wondered which of his former brothers enacted the barrier. He didn’t see any robed individuals close to the front line. Treace ignored him and set his sights on the few remaining men that were nearing the archers.
“I hope I never have to see that again,” Kiril announced.
“Me too,” Treace replied, though he would see it again. Only on a much larger and horrifying scale.
The remaining enemies were dead before Treace and Kiril could lend a hand. The archers had done their job and had done it effectively.
They headed back toward the barn, where Raythien, Griffeth, and Heral were waiting for them. Most of the team headed that way as well, but a trio of them remained in the field. The married couple and another man were shooting arrows into the chests of the fallen enemies, apparently ensuring they were actually dead.
