The two saluted and hurried off to obey. The commander turned to me. “Begin your attack, Jamie.”
“I’m on it,” I said.
I drew the spellform of fire ray in my mind and extended it through my wizard’s staff. Holding the spell in readiness, I lowered my staff and pointed it at the unmistakable—and unmissable—form of the chieftain.
When I was certain I had my target dead centre in my sights, I infused the spell and hurled a focused beam of dragonfire towards the murluk leader.
The dragonfire burned a line of gold through the air and hit the chieftain squarely in the chest. Despite his size, the behemoth staggered back at the impact. Recovering his balance, he flung up his head and roared in outrage.
“Impressive,” remarked the commander, studying the faint shimmer to the air in the spell’s aftermath. “Now do it again.”
I smiled. “Yes, ma’am.” Reforming the spellform of fire ray, I sent a second lance of fire hurtling towards the chieftain. The murluk ducked his head, and raised his arm to shield himself, but it did him no good.
The dragonfire burned a hole through the behemoth’s forearm. Raising his head, the chieftain glared at me in impotent rage.
I grinned back in response. The twin strikes had nettled the creature. It would take more hits before I could bring the chieftain down, but given his torturous advance, I felt confident I could fell him before he reached the walls.
Especially if I target my attacks at one of his legs.
I lowered my staff and sent a third line of flame arcing over the battlefield. It missed the knee-joint I aimed for, but still struck the murluk leader’s leg, provoking another roar from him.
Adjusting my aim, I hurled a fourth bolt of heat and light.
It failed to hit.
What the—?
I hadn’t missed. The fire ray had scorched through the air as deadly accurate as my previous bolts, but before it reached the gigantic murluk, it had been blocked by a shimmering bubble.
Startled, I rocked back. The chieftain had cast a magic shield around himself. Studying the transparent dome of arctic-blue that hung over the behemoth, I recalled a similar shield the orc shaman Kagan had created back on Earth.
Just how strong was the chieftain’s shield? Kagan’s had held back mortar fire. This one couldn’t be that strong, could it? I bit my lip in worry.
Encased within his bubble, the chieftain raised his head to the sky and bellowed in victory. I glared at him sourly. The battle wasn’t over, whatever the murluk leader thought. It’s only just begun.
A moment later the chieftain’s cry was echoed from much closer by his overseers. Looking down, I saw that the murluk front was halfway up the upper bank and they were hopping forward with renewed vigour.
I ground my teeth in frustration. My failure appeared to have spurred the enemy on. I had to burn through the chieftain’s shield. Lowering my staff, I drew on my mana again.
The commander laid a restraining hand on my arm. “Wait, Jamie. He is still too far away to threaten us directly yet. Let’s observe how their front line does first.”
The old lady’s calm was admirable. Where my own gaze was furious, hers was cool and assessing. The murluk leader was not an immediate threat, and it would be many minutes before he reached the wall. The same could not be said for the rest of the murluk horde—which was now almost upon us.
It grated on me to leave my foe unopposed, but Jolin was right. Though I didn’t like it, I followed the commander’s lead. I released the spellform in my mind and steadfastly ignored the chieftain’s repeated peals of triumph. Their only purpose seemed to goad me. I turned my attention to approaching line.
The first wave of the murluk army, exhorted onwards by the overseers, were labouring up the bank in a near frenzy to get at the human defenders.
Two archers were perched on the second elevated platform. Taking careful aim, they fired. Their arrows whistled through the air towards their target—the nearest murluk overseer. But the murluk giant saw the incoming projectiles, ducked behind his wooden shield, and let the arrows thud harmlessly into it.
Disappointed, I turned away from the sight to observe the rest of the assault. The first murluks had reached the base of the palisade.
Once there, they began to hop.
I frowned. What were they doing?
The murluks were bobbing up and down, and on the same spot. Slowly at first, then faster and faster, the murluks bounced. With each hop, the creatures seemed to build more momentum and reach even higher.
My stomach churned as understanding rushed through me. They’re going to jump over the wall. “Commander, I think—”
“I know, Jamie,” she replied grimly. Drawing a stout club from her belt, she shouted over her shoulder, “Petrov, brace the line, the murluks are about to jump the wall! And get the archers back!”
The hopping grew frenetic as more murluks joined in. The creatures packed up tight against the palisade wall until its entire length was filled with bobbing shapes. Matters were different only at the open gate.
There, the murluks streamed inwards, taking the path of least resistance. With bellows of their own, the cordon of spearmen guarding the gate stepped forward and engaged the horde.
My gaze flicked along the palisade as I wondered what to do. I could see no way to stop the murluks from hopping over, if indeed they could manage the feat.
Do I attack the chieftain? Maybe if I pierced his shield, it would demoralise the enemy. But he was still—
“Jamie, take out the overseers, starting with the one commanding the murluks at the gate,” Jolin ordered. Her voice was firm, with no hint of doubt as to what needed to be done.
I didn’t question her. I acted. Lowering my staff in the direction of my target, I sent a fire ray rippling through the air. The overseer saw the line of dragonfire burning its way towards him and tried to fend it off with his shield.
It did him no good.
The fire ray blew through the wooden shield and into the giant murluk. The overseer lurched backwards and his eyes bulged as both his arm and shield burst into flames.
Keeping my staff centred on my target, I unleashed a second, third, and then fourth fire ray at the overseer. Each lance of destruction caused him to stagger and jerk like a marionette on a string before he dropped dead to the ground.
“Good job,” said the commander.
I opened my mouth to reply, but was startled as a head popped over the wall. Jolin didn’t miss a beat. She calmly swatted the murluk away with her club, sending it flailing into the massed horde below. Warily, I flicked my gaze to the left and right.
All along the palisade, murluks were bouncing over in oddly graceful arcs, only to meet an untimely death at the hands of the waiting spearmen.
But while the numbers of murluks breaching the wall was manageable at the moment, the defenders on the ground would be soon be overwhelmed.
“Jamie, focus!” snapped the commander. “Take down the other overseers. Start with that one next!” she said, pointing to an overseer to our right. That section of the wall was in danger of being flooded with murluks.
I nodded sharply and set to work.
My first two rays missed. The overseer had learned from his fellow’s fate that blocking would do him no good. Dancing between the smaller murluks, he managed to foil my aim twice over.
But I could learn too.
Anticipating the overseer’s next movements and taking more care with my aim, I pinned him with my third attack. Then, while he still reeled from the flames licking at his torso, I followed up with three more fire rays. They were enough to leave the overseer a charred and smoking corpse.
I didn’t wait for the commander’s next order. Searching out another overseer, I poured dragonfire into him, until he too collapsed.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that the pressure on our walls had eased wherever the overseers had been felled. The murluks near
the dead overseers swirled about in confusion. Many abandoned the attempt to hop the wall entirely and charged towards the gate, sowing even more confusion as they cut through the ranks of their fellows.
The commander had been right, I realised. Killing the overseers was the key to winning the battle—at least until the chieftain reached us. Without their overseers, the murluks were losing their impetus.
I glanced upwards. The chieftain was still some distance off, but with patient steps was moving steadily closer. I lowered my staff at my next target.
I can do this.
Chapter 37
386 days until the Arkon Shield falls
A little later, eight of the ten overseers were dead, and I had gained another level.
You have gained in experience and are now a: level 21 Trainee.
The number of murluks attempting to hop over the wall had diminished considerably, and order had been restored inside the palisade. The only place the defenders and attackers now clashed in any sizeable numbers was at the open gate.
Despite the frantic commands of the two remaining overseers, most of the smaller murluks milling outside the walls chose to make for the opening where, unable to the bring the weight of their numbers to bear, they were held at bay by the defenders.
We were winning.
But I was running out of steam, and both my stamina and mana pools were low. I couldn’t go on for much longer. Pausing for breath, I took stock of the battle. Only one significant threat remained now.
The chieftain.
I studied the murluk leader’s approach. He was labouring up the upper bank, moving even slower than he had on the lower bank. From this close, I could see that the smaller murluks moved easily in and out of his shimmering shield of blue.
So, his shield is similar to Kagan’s. It appeared permeable to slow-moving objects, but acted as a solid barrier against projectiles.
I chewed on my lower lip, pondering my options. The chieftain on his own could easily turn the tide of the battle against us. But his defeat would do the same for the murluks.
I measured the behemoth’s pace and trajectory, trying to judge how long he would take to reach the gate. We had some time yet, and I estimated that—
I frowned.
The chieftain was not making for the gate as I had assumed. Tracing his path, I realised he was heading directly for the platform where the commander and I stood.
I turned to warn the commander. Jolin was leaning over the rear end of the platform, listening to a report from one of her messengers.
“Ma’am—” I began.
She held up her hand, stopping me. The old lady didn’t turn away from the messenger. Given her demeanour, whatever he had to say was important.
I limped closer.
“… there are thousands!” the messenger gasped. “Nearly all bear serious injuries of one kind or another. Nicholas says that many are beyond his help. But that is not the worse part, ma’am.” The messenger paused for breath, chest heaving.
“Go on, Devlin,” the commander said, her lips pressed in a thin line.
Despite the chaos around us, the messenger had Jolin’s full attention. Shifting impatiently from foot to foot, I wanted to interrupt, but the commander knew the stakes of this battle as well as I did. Whatever Devlin was on about had to be important.
“A group of about a hundred are attacking our own people,” Devlin said. “They’ve wrested away weapons from some of the other new fishes and are killing indiscriminately. The gate guards died trying to stop them,” he finished miserably.
I blinked, horrified as I began to understand.
“Did you say they are killing our own?” asked the commander, her voice dangerously soft.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Captain Marcus!” Jolin shouted. “Take two companies and go put down the trouble at the dragon temple. You will show no mercy. Cut down anyone who resists your orders.”
“Yes, ma’am!” Marcus snapped a salute, then hurried off.
Petrov stared upwards. “But ma’am, we need those men here!” he protested.
“There is no help for it, Captain,” Jolin barked. “Make do!” She turned back to me. “What is it, Jamie?”
I stared at her uncomprehendingly for a moment before shifting gears. “The chieftain is making directly for us, not the gate. We need to get off the platform.”
The commander peered over the palisade.
“Did I hear the messenger right?” I asked as she studied the chieftain’s approach. “Are the refugees attacking us?”
“Yes,” she said. “Earth is in its final moments and people are coming through the gate in droves. Most are in shock or injured from the natural disasters ripping apart the planet.” Jolin sighed. “If it was only the terrified and wounded we had to deal with, matters wouldn’t be so bad. But wherever there are large groups of people, there are crazies.” She turned to study me, taking in my exhausted state. “You out of mana?”
I nodded. “You’re going to have to replenish me before I can finish off the overseers.”
She shook her head. “Forget about them, the murluk army is in too much disarray for them to restore order now.”
Jolin closed her eyes, and a moment later, I felt restorative weaves of spirit reach out from the commander to me and all the nearby soldiers.
“Thanks, ma’am,” I said.
Jolin waved away my thanks and held my gaze. “Tell me truthfully, Jamie… can you handle the chieftain?”
“I must,” I said, resolute. I wasn’t certain the chieftain could be defeated, but I was determined to make the attempt.
Jolin measured my resolve for a moment. “Good man,” she murmured. “Let’s get down.”
“I think we should—” I began.
“Wow! Now that’s what I call a restoration spell!”
I broke off on hearing the shouts of glee. The voice was unhappily familiar.
“Come to daddy, you toady bastards! I’m gonna kill a whole lotta yah!”
My head whipped towards the gate. It was Lance, of course. The mage had pushed himself to the front of the spearmen cordon around the gate and, with a club equipped in each hand, was bashing away at the murluks.
“Damn it!” I growled. “How did that idiot get there?”
“The damn fool,” the commander murmured.
As we both watched, momentarily too stunned to act, a murluk thrust a spear at Lance.
He didn’t even see it coming.
The spear skewered the mage clean through. Lance’s eyes went wide and he crumpled to the ground, limbs twitching.
“Petrov,” Jolin called down. “Send John with a squad to go rescue our mage from the cordon.” Petrov’s gaze moved in confusion from the commander to me. “Not Jamie, the other one!” she snapped. “The blonde idiot!”
For a moment, it was all I could do not to scream. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. Why did you have to do this now, Lance?
Opening my eyes, I reached a decision. “Ma’am,” I said, “I need to get to him. I saw the way that spear cut through him. The medics won’t be able to help him.”
Despite my dislike for the young idiot, I knew we couldn’t afford to let him die. The Outpost, and humanity, needed every mage it could find.
Jolin’s eyes darted between the approaching chieftain and the gate. It would be tight. If I went to Lance’s aid, I might not get back in time to stop the behemoth before he reached the wall.
Indecision froze the commander.
It was the first time I had seen her mask of certainty slip so completely. I knew she was weighing the lives of her soldiers against Lance’s. It was not a choice I envied, but I couldn’t wait.
“Ma’am,” I urged.
“Go get him,” she ordered, her expression clearing as she made her decision.
It was the right call. Lance was too important to abandon. If the mage’s reckless tendencies could
be controlled, he would be an invaluable asset, and in the long run it would save many lives.
I hobbled down the platform ladder. “After I see to Lance, pull back the spearmen if you can,” I shouted to the commander, who was following me down the ladder. “Don’t engage the chieftain unless you are forced to. It will easier for me if I don’t have to worry about injuring any nearby friendlies!”
I didn’t wait for the old lady’s acknowledgement. I knew my instructions wouldn’t sit well with her, but I hoped she would listen.
As I reached the bottom of the ladder, I skipped towards the gate, dragging my hobbled foot behind me.
✽✽✽
It took me only a few seconds to reach the back of the cordon defending the gate. I pushed my way through to the front. Most of the spearmen, recognising me, gave way easily.
“John,” I shouted when I caught sight of the big man and his squad. They were a few yards to my right and hovered protectively around Lance’s form, still stretched out on the ground. “Is he alive?”
John glanced back. “Barely,” he yelled over the sounds of the battle. “But we dare not move him.”
I hurried to John’s side and ducked into the circle of men. Dropping to my knees, I examined the mage. The offending spear was still in place and the wound was oozing copious amounts of blood.
Lance was alive, but his health was draining fast. I spun mana through my hands and laid them onto Lance’s open wound. The blue glow of life magic disappeared from my hands and sank into the mage’s body, repairing damaged arteries and organs.
Some of Lance’s lost vitality returned, but not all of it. The spear, still embedded in his side, stopped him from healing all the way. I hadn’t removed the spear earlier, fearing the mage wouldn’t survive the shock of its removal.
“Pull out the spear, John,” I said to the lieutenant hovering over my shoulder.
“You sure, Jamie?”
“I am. Hurry!”
The big man yanked the spear out. Lance’s back arched but his eyes remained closed. Channelling lay hands again, I slapped my palms over the open wound.
Overworld (Dragon Mage Saga Book 1): A fantasy post-apocalyptic story Page 35
