Scattered banshees staggered about, caught in between the shockwave paths. As those banshees filtered down the safe channels, squads of human warriors ran to greet them.
Deciding that everything was in hand, Brock followed Jestin back toward camp.
As they jogged across the field, Brock thought about what they needed to do next. The plan had been clear to this point, playing out as expected. That is, other than the destruction wrought from the misdrawn rune.
When he reached camp, Brock found his Arcanists circled about a small campfire. Some sat, attempting to relax, while others stood and talked in small groups. He stopped just outside the occupied area so he could think on his plan. Soon after, he heard Jestin and Hal stumble in and stop beside him, breathing heavily from their run. While the Chaos-charged Power augmentation had begun to dampen, enough remained that the short run had offered little drain on Brock’s stamina.
After a moment, he stepped close to the fire and raised his hands to attract attention.
“You guys did a great job.” Everyone turned toward him as he spoke. “Your almost flawless execution provided a big advantage. Even though we lost a handful of people, we destroyed half of their army. Congratulations.”
A cheer rose up from the group. Brock waited for the commotion to settle, not speaking again until he could hear nothing but the crackling of the nearby fire.
“The shockwaves should last for about a half-hour before they begin to lessen. When they do, you can be sure that The Horde will attack in force. You need to rest yourselves so you’re ready for another round when called upon. I get the feeling that something is coming, something we couldn’t expect.”
* * *
Nindlerod cackled in laughter as the trailblazer smashed into another banshee, hardly slowing as it ground over the beast. His laughter died out when he noticed something through the small window over the boiler.
A group of banshees half-encircled a smaller form, one that appeared human. A large rune scrawled on the ground before the would-be human began to glow red. Nindlerod’s widened when he realized that magic was occurring directly before him. He urgently pulled on a lever and the trailblazer turned sharply left.
Nindlerod gaped out the door window, his attention focused on the magic user and the rune. The glowing rune faded and the ground before it erupted in an incredible wave, three stories tall and ever-widening. As it roared toward him, Nindlerod’s mind calculated the angle and speed of the massive shockwave. A sigh of resignation slipped out when he realized that the trailblazer wasn’t moving fast enough, that the outer edge of the shockwave would surely hit him.
Two heartbeats later, the tidal wave of earth struck the trailblazer.
* * *
“Here come two more,” Gavin shouted as he glanced toward the shockwave to his right, marking its path. It would be bad to be standing in the way when it swept by.
“They just won’t learn, will they, Captain?” Sherrine flashed him a smile as she hefted her bloodstained javelin.
Gavin smiled despite the circumstances. After the route they experienced in Hurnsdom, it felt great to repay these monsters. He turned to face the fast-approaching banshees.
“Get ready.” Gavin shouted his orders. “Sherrine and I will take the one on the left. Flax and Warrick take the one in the middle. Red and Voles take the one on the right.”
When the monster drew near, Torreco leapt high in the air, drawing the beast’s attention. Sherrine released her javelin, which skewered the monster’s shoulder. Torreco descended with a vicious slice across the banshee’s other shoulder, taking the arm off clean. He rolled into the landing and came to his feet behind the staggering beast, its severed stump raining blood. With a grin, he sliced through its leg, hamstringing the towering abomination. The banshee fell to the ground as Sherrine landed on its chest. She yanked the javelin free and speared the monster in the eye.
Gavin glanced toward the other two duos to find that they had also dispatched their attackers. He met the gaze of the last remnants of his army and found grins on their faces. He grinned in return, feeling better than he had in weeks. Yes, getting the better of these things had lifted his spirits.
A deep rumble shook the ground, causing Gavin and the others to stumble. He searched his surroundings, seeking the source of the disturbance.
Shockwaves roared past on each side of his squad, but this was something else. Something larger. He spun toward the lower plains when he realized the direction of the rumble, which increasingly grew louder.
Suddenly, an immense wall of dirt crested the rise and barreled across the battlefield. Forty-feet tall and a half-mile wide, the huge wave of earth hammered through the smaller shockwaves, banshees, and humans that remained upon the field, burying everything.
“Issal’s breath,” Torreco mumbled as the massive wave of earth engulfed him. His last thoughts were of the family he never had.
CHAPTER 29
Brock and everyone around him stared in horrified shock. The massive tidal wave of earth tore across the battlefield, obliterating everything in its path as it continued beyond, far into the tall grass to the west.
As the rumble faded into the distance, Brock found the field cleared of all bodies, living or dead. The stones that had provided light to the plains were gone, buried beneath tons of dirt. Only quiet dark fields of churned earth remained.
Brock stared off into the west, seeing nothing but darkness now that the planet had dropped below the horizon. He considered what he had seen and determined that The Horde was using magic against them. In addition, the huge shockwave proved that The Horde had one or more Arcanist with magic abilities that far outstripped what Brock and his followers could muster individually. If left unchecked, there was no chance that the humans could survive.
Shouts and cries of fear rose up, causing Brock to turn toward the lower plains again. A thick bank of fog billowed onto the upper plateau, rising from the lower plains. As if being smothered by a cumulous cloud, the damp fog rolled across the plains and enveloped the camp in mere moments.
* * *
“Is everyone okay?” Cam asked.
The twenty-nine remaining fighters responded with weary nods and muttered “yeahs”. Seven of Talvin’s cavalry unit had died in that wave of destruction, leaving them with Talvin and seven other survivors. Only Cam, Tegan, and Budakis remained of those who had been charged with Chaos, along with eighteen foot soldiers. Cam prayed that Brock, Torreco, and the others who had taken the south flank had fared better. Unprepared for the huge wave of dirt, Cam had barely cleared the field in time to avoid it. While he had been lucky, he had lost much of his force in seconds. The reality of the event still hadn’t set in, instead feeling much like a nightmare. Cam would have loved to wake and find it had all just been a troubled dream.
“Cam, look!” Tegan shouted.
Cam spun about and found a tall bank of fog rolling toward him. Seconds later, he was blind and lost within the murk.
“Everyone remain calm. Come toward my voice,” Cam said. “Let’s gather in tight.”
Familiar faces soon materialized within the thick mist, clustering together.
“Remain quiet and listen for enemy movement.” He said, trying to sound confident.
They formed a circle with their weapons drawn and backs to each other and waited in silence. The milky air swirling about them left their hair and gear damp. The minutes ticked by slowly as Cam stared hard into the murk. He found his eyes playing tricks on him, imagining banshees wading through the wispy vapors.
Cam heard a rustling and saw shadows shifting within the fog. When the glow of red eyes materialized, he realized that a banshee was coming toward him. Turning about,
he found more sets of red eyes glowing within the gloom surrounding them. Loud wails blasted out, making him cringe with the intensity of the high-pitched screeches. The banshees attacked.
Cam leapt toward the nearest beast, diving beneath the swipe of a long arm. He spun, his blade whirling through the air as he sliced through a waist-thick leg just below the knee. The banshee tumbled and Tegan stabbed it in the throat while Cam dodged a strike from another beast.
Blood splatter soon filled the surrounding area as human screams mixed with the wails. People were dying, and two banshees seemed to replace each one they killed. Cam remained focused, attacking each new banshee that appeared before him. It was a hopeless situation but each monster he killed helped their cause. Puri would be cross with him when she found him dead, but she would be proud when she saw how many banshees he took with him.
* * *
A low rumble arose in the distance, deeper in tone and louder in volume than the others, Tenzi’s gaze focused on the lights, now roughly a mile away. Beyond them, something stirred, something large. A massive black wave emerged from the night and swept through the lights, obliterating them as it continued across the plains. The noise created by the destructive force was deafening. As it faded into the distance and silence returned, she looked around to find everyone gaping in shock.
“By Issal’s breath, what was that?” Cassius muttered.
Tenzi had seen it before, although a much smaller version. “It’s a Shockwave. It’s something they can do with Chaos. However, that was a much, much larger version than what I’ve seen.”
“We can’t fight that,” Julius said.
Cassius turned toward his son as he resumed his fast pace. “You’re lucky because it’s gone.”
Tenzi hurried to follow the man, hearing others trampling through the long grass behind her. After a minute, she thought she saw something else ahead. She stared hard at it while she walked, trying to determine if it was real or her imagination.
“Sir, look!” Harper cried, pointing at the thick cloud engulfing the field that the massive shockwave had destroyed.
Cassius turned toward those who followed him, finding that they had stopped to watch this odd event.
“We can’t stop now. I don’t know how where that fog came from, but it can’t be good.” He waved his arm. “Let’s go.”
Julius lifted his massive hammer, grinning in anticipation. “Let’s go help our little puppy, Jake.”
Jake smiled at his twin and gestured with his long scythe. “Yeah. We can’t let Cam have all the fun.”
Cries of surprise emerged from within the cloud, followed by the clang of swords clashing.
Cassius burst into a sprint, running into the thick fog with his two oldest sons close behind. With weapons brandished, the others ran after them and vanished in the fog.
Tenzi paused as she encountered unwanted visions of what horrors lie ahead, horrors the others had yet to experience. If they had seen what The Horde had done, she expected that Cam’s brothers would be far less eager. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the hilt of a knife in each hand. She swallowed hard, as if to consume her fear before it consumed her, and she ran toward the cloudbank. The overwhelming sense of dread increasingly intensified, threatening to smother her will as the murk engulfed her.
* * *
Parker paused firing his bow and searched the thick fog that had suddenly arisen. The Tantarri archers around him did the same as they waited for any sign of movement. The fog continued to spread, seeping over the monster carcasses littering the battlefield. Many of the dead banshees had enough arrows jutting from their bodies to appear like massive pincushions. In moments, the fog consumed their field of vision and the dead banshees faded from view. Parker’s instincts forced him to retreat a few steps as the fog churned past him. He and his fellow archers were in trouble, lacking the range needed to react before the banshees got too close. They would need time to shoot numerous arrows to stop a banshee.
Two shadows with red eyes merged from within the mist, the monsters towering over Parker. He lifted his bow and fired as he backed away. A rumble from behind caused him to turn and dodge just as Puri’s horse sped past. She stood high in the saddle and slashed her sword across the throat of the nearest monster. Other mounted Tantarri emerged from the fog and collided into the mass of banshees.
* * *
Nindlerod blinked in confusion before wiping the dirt from his face. It was dark and his head hurt. He sat up and found his body covered in dirt. His hands began swiping through the debris around him, searching through the torn earth that filled the trailblazer cabin.
After a few panic-filled moments, Nindlerod located his spectacles. He shook the debris from them and blew them off before slipping them on his face. He used his hand to wipe his forehead clean, pausing when he felt something wet and warm. Even in the starlight, he knew that the dark streak on his palm was blood.
With a grunt, he climbed to his feet and found the trailblazer going in circles, repeating a path it had cut through the long grass. The machine had slowed its pace dramatically and was losing steam.
A pull of one lever disengaged the grinder and pulling another lever stopped the drive-train. Nindlerod grabbed the last three logs from the fuel compartment and fed them to the coals in the firebox. He opened the flue wide, hoping for the heat to grow quickly.
While the engine heated up, he decided to open the door and peek outside. Craning his neck toward the slope, he discovered that a thick fog had arisen and was somehow sliding uphill, toward the battlefield. It took only a moment to deduce the source of the fog.
Nindlerod slid back into the cockpit, secured the door, and checked the pressure gauge. Nodding in satisfaction, he pushed one drive-train lever forward while also engaging the grinder. As the machine turned, Nindlerod searched for his target.
Waves of banshees charged into the fog, running toward the battlefield above. Among the mass of tall figures milling about at the bottom of the slope, he found a smaller figure who was shouting and waving toward the battlefield.
With a grin, Nindlerod engaged the other drive-train lever, causing the machine to gain speed as the pressure continued to build. The trailblazer roared as it ran faster and faster across the field. The grinder at the front of the machine cut a wide swath and left a trail of grass shoots behind.
As he drew near his target, the smaller form began pointing toward the trailblazer, shouting orders. A group of banshees peeled off from the others and stormed toward the trailblazer.
Nindlerod closed the pressure-release seal on the boiler and engaged the drive train levers to gain as much speed as possible. The trailblazer shook and rumbled as it smashed into the wave of banshees. Nindlerod cackled in laughter as body parts and dark splotches sprayed into the air. However, some monsters were smart enough to avoid the grinder and come at the side of the machine. Loud thumps sounded when they pounded at the machine as it passed by. One monster smashed the small window above the boiler, forcing Nindlerod to duck beneath the shower of broken glass.
Nindlerod stood upright and found himself past the wave of beasts, leaving only his target before him. A glance at the boiler gauge revealed that the pressure level was too high. The trailblazer had begun to shake violently, the boiler threatening to burst.
With such a unique opportunity and no fuel remaining, Nindlerod ignored the gauge and let the pressure build, refusing to let his quarry escape.
The Horde magic-user turned to run, forcing Nindlerod to change direction. He pulled a lever and the trailblazer followed with a sharp turn. A loud thump struck the trailblazer and the machine lurched, tilting enough to launch Nindlerod into the metal wall of the cabin. Pain shot through his shoulder, but the old man remai
ned on his feet. A glance out the side window revealed a cluster of banshees charging toward him, about to strike. Turning to look forward, he saw that he was closing on the banshee magic-user. With another glance toward the approaching mob of monsters, he grinned and cackled in laughter as the grinder edged toward his target. Nindlerod’s laughter grew more intense as the blades snagged the magic-user’s foot, pulled him to the turf, and ran him over. Nindlerod turned toward his pursuers as the banshees smashed into the machine, knocking it over. The trailblazer rolled, causing the small Master Engineer to tumble and hit his head just before everything went black.
* * *
After an hour of steadily pumping the pedals, Ashland’s thighs seemed to have gone numb. A distant light at the horizon provided a beacon to guide them. She squinted, trying to determine the distance to the light when it suddenly went dark.
A low rumble emerged above the constant buzz of the spinning blades and the squeak of the foot crank. The rumble grew increasingly louder, echoing from the fields below.
A wave of darkness flashed below them and she craned her neck to watch it rumble across the plains, toward the mountains to the west.
“What was that?” Ashland asked.
“I’m not sure,” Benny replied. “It reminds me of the Shockwave rune but larger.”
Ashland nodded, thinking that Benny was correct. “Much larger.”
Benny squinted at the dark horizon. “What’s that ahead?”
Following where he pointed, Ashland discovered a milky wall rising up from the plains. As they drew closer, the thick cloud continued to spread across the upper plateau like some horrible disease.
Brock was down there somewhere. Maybe he knew what was happening.
An Empire in Runes (The Runes of Issalia Book 3) Page 17
