“What do you feel?” Geblin asked, startling her.
She looked down softly on the Gnome. Most of her earlier anger had dissipated. She smiled. It looked like Geblin wasn’t going to be killed by them after all.
“A thing of great evil,” she whispered so as not to arouse the others. “We are being stalked.”
Geblin had suspected as much. “There’s nothing for it. Only death haunts this land. I tried to warn him.”
Aphere’s eyes narrowed with the uncanny sharpness of a hunter. Then their world erupted in violence. Leaves, muck, and branched exploded from the heart of the Uelg. A dreadful scream wailed across the moors. The force of the blast knocked Kavan from his saddle. He hit hard, sinking into the rotting ground. Swords drawn, the others circled and prepared for battle.
Mist sped by them, drawn into a funnel of power at the center of a pool of black water. The air chilled. An overwhelming sense of dread spread from the gathering mists. Darkness took shape in the center.
“What evil is this?” Pirneon growled.
Kavan groaned and struggled to his knees. A think sliver of blood trickled from the corner of his right eyebrow.
Geblin cried out, “Waugh! I told you! We’re trapped!”
The Gnome drew his dagger and readied for death. A blast of power rippled from the dark. Frenzied winds lashed into the swamp. Trees swayed, threatening to break. Barum’s horse reared up and let out a frightened cry. They were forced to shield their faces from debris slamming into them. Their breath came in icy plumes.
Slowly, the figure in the center of the anomaly began to take form. Rank and fetid, the creature stood seven feet tall. Hidden beneath a molded black cloak, it raised an arm and gestured accusingly to the knights. Smoldering darkness pulsed from beneath his hood. Bone shone through the decomposing flesh of his fingers. What flesh remained was black, gangrenous. When it spoke, the voice came out in a tainted rasp.
“Blood must be paid,” he groaned.
Barum’s bow sang. The arrow hissed true, speeding towards the creature’s hooded face only to disintegrate mere inches away. Ashes blew listlessly in the dying wind.
“You cannot harm me.”
Again, he raised his arm, and waves of filth spread forth. Aphere began retching uncontrollably.
“Blood must be paid,” he repeated.
Pirneon backed his horse away. He knew there was no winning this situation. Sword in hand, he struggled to find a way for them all to escape. He had trouble comprehending the monster attacking them. Never in his long, storied career had he seen such malevolence unleashed in a single being. It was as if the very soul of the underworld had spit forth this creation.
Geblin was instantly at Pirneon’s side. Grim determination defined his face. “This evil is more than us.”
The creature waited in the sanctuary of mists.
“Quickly, Gnome, tell me what you know of this,” Pirneon whispered.
Black mist hid the lower body of the creature, adding a terrorizing feel. Geblin chewed his lip in thought. He heard death’s soft whispers of temptation in the back of his mind. It called to him, to them all. Geblin shivered. He knew exactly what evil confronted them, and that scared him even more. Too many of his kin had been claimed in this manner.
“It is a lich,” he said, “A devourer of souls.”
Pirneon gripped his sword tighter, as if that would provide the resolve he required. A lich was a being from the old world, where men held power over life and death. This one should have died out with the rest of its kind. Once a man of incomparable power whose soul refused to die, the lich was neither living nor dead. Legend spoke of ancient sorcerers who did not accept death as the end. They performed spells and rituals to the dark gods in order to live forever. Immortality was exchanged for their souls.
The lich had but one weakness. The source of his power was both boon and bane. Trapped within an amethyst gem was the soul of the undead. That gem gave the lich unlimited power, both over the living and the dead. Destroy it, and the lich would die.
“How can men defeat such as this?” Kavan whispered. His resolve was shaken. Doubt crept in.
Geblin searched the mists until he spied what he was looking for. “There! The gem atop his staff. We must destroy it. It’s the only way. Can the lady use her magic?”
Pirneon shifted his gaze back to Aphere. His hatred and mistrust was temporarily gone. Sadly, Aphere was in no condition to fight. Her last efforts had drained her completely, so much he was certain she would die if she tried to use it again.
“No. We must do this,” he said in a measured voice.
“Then we will die,” Geblin replied.
Barum fired again, and again. Both arrows burned to ash. The lich howled in fury. His gem flashed brightly. A quake rippled across the ground. Spouts of flame slashed up from the bog. Wails of unimaginable pain rode the winds as hundreds of partially decomposed figures began crawling from the earth. The dead rising from the grave. Kavan returned to his normal self and grinned savagely at the prospect of a fight. One by one, the dead drew rusted weapons and attacked. Kavan rushed forward to meet them.
His sword sliced deep, ripping strips of desiccated flesh and ichor away with each swing. Hands and heads were cleaved off. Torsos were brutally slashed through, but for every one Kavan slew, more would arrive. The rest of the Gaimosians entered the fight at his sides under the watchful gaze of the lich. Only Geblin held back.
Most of the dead were Gnomes. His heart ached for his fallen kin. Anger and horror collided in his heart. So many of his people had been killed here. So many. Geblin felt the blood rage steal upon him, and he leapt into battle. His sword slashed and cut in reckless abandon. More than anything, he wished to send their trapped souls on to their final resting place. A liberation of the spirit. Tears streamed down his face as he slew Gnome after Gnome.
The lich passively watched the battle, waiting until the Gaimosians had expended their strength to lash out with the full majesty of his power. They, like everyone else, would soon belong to him. Panic suddenly gripped him. The lich froze, trying to scry the source of his unrest. His yellow eyes fell on the near prone female knight. Sparks of power, unseen by the mortal eye, crackled off her flesh. His gem flared warning. The lich howled, and his minions redirected their attack against Aphere. Organs and limbs littered the battlefield in gory mess. The smell of death was sickening, overpowering. Sword arms grew tired as the Gaimosians collapsed their defense to shift around Aphere.
Bodies began to pile up. The dead were desperate, knowing she posed the greatest threat. Driven by the lich’s rage, they clawed and scraped closer to Aphere.
“Blood must be paid!”
The lich aimed his staff and spoke words of power. Purple flames shot at her from the end of his staff. Aphere barely managed to glance up in time. She scrunched her eyes shut and flung an outstretched hand back at the lich. Pure energy exploded from her fingers, sending a wall of power to the reaching flames. Magic collided in a wicked explosion. The Gnomes closest exploded in a shatter of gore. The lich stumbled backwards. Pain hammered into him, and he knew fear. His staff was cracked down the length.
Pirneon caught the hesitation. “Now, Kavan! Attack. Destroy the staff, and we destroy him!”
Kavan leapt over several clawing Gnomes, sword arced high above his head. He raced through the throngs of the dead and the sucking mud of the Uelg. His eyes narrowed. He saw only the decrepit robed figure ahead. Kavan lost himself in the battle. It was a fight only one would walk away from.
The distance closed. Twenty meters. Ten. Kavan was upon him before the lich recovered. Steel flashed in the purple light. The lich threw forth his staff, seeking to rip Kavan apart, but the knight was faster. His sword ate through the mists until it bit deeply into the staff’s rod. The lich had time to scream once before his carefully hoarded power was released back into the world.
The force of the explosion flattened everything for a hundred meters. Kavan was flung fac
e first into the muck as the lich disintegrated above him. Both halves of the staff landed at his head. One by one, the Gnome undead lost animation and sank back into their swampy tomb. Geblin cried from his knees. At last, his people were free. The mists dissolved, leaving the swamp and returning to the same unfriendly miasma it had always been. The Gaimosians recovered gradually. Eager to be free from this place of death, Pirneon lead them on. By nightfall, they had reached the northern edge of the Uelg. The night had never been so inviting.
TWENTY-NINE
Ambushed
The Fist struck at dawn. Black clad warriors leapt from their ambush positions along the open lane north and closed in on the Gaimosians with alarming ferocity. On foot, they were no match for the speed and strength of trained warhorses. Darts and arrows hummed through the air only to fall short. The Fist surged forward. They were eager to close with the enemy and collect their bounty, all the while avenging the deaths of so many of their own.
They moved with deliberate caution. The danger of losing their prey was slim with the flying beasts scouring the skies. Pharanx Gorge jumped upon the back of his faithful pet and raced back to the skies. He enjoyed the hunt almost as much as the art of killing. Consumed by disappointment, he vowed to kill them all, even that wretched Gnome. Only the unexpected use of sorcery troubled him. Her, he’d kill personally.
“How many this time?” Pirneon asked.
They slowed to a quick trot, fearful of exhausting the horses so far from their destination.
Kavan wiped his face. “More than a hundred is my guess.”
The Knight Marshal frowned. Odds were growing increasingly in the enemy’s favor. He was surprised to realize just how exhausted he was. They’d been on the run for almost a week now since leaving the Uelg. All were borderline ineffective, pushed to the limits of even their great endurance. The Fist, on the other hand, were rested and eager. As long as they held numbers, they had the advantage. Only death could be the outcome. Only pain.
“We have to find a way to even the odds out, or this will be a waste of trip.”
“Agreed,” Kavan replied. “But we are in no position of strength to do so. The land between here and the mountains offers little protection but will not swallow us from view of their damned flying beasts.”
“There is a forest not far from here. It runs the length of the plain all the way to the foothills of the Crags,” Geblin offered.
Pirneon swung towards the Gnome. “How far?’
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “A day, perhaps less. We need to find the nearby stream and follow it to the small lake in the middle of the forest. Trees are thick there. They should provide us with good cover, at least until my people discover us.”
Kavan tried to hide his grimace. More Gnomes, not exactly the position he hoped to find himself in. “Are you sure they won’t attack us? I couldn’t handle you, and now we march willingly towards an entire tribe.”
Barum started to laugh, and it quickly spread to the others. Even dour Pirneon flashed a grin. Geblin folded his arms over his chest and shot daggers, less harsh than before, at the knight before he, too, succumbed to a chuckle.
“I was merely getting you accustomed to my kind,” Geblin snorted.
“We’re wasting time. Can you lead us to this stream, Geblin?” Pirneon asked, the mirth gone from his eyes.
“Well enough, I suppose,” he replied in a hostile tone. His mistrust of Pirneon continued to grow the more he became attached to Aphere.
Pirneon gave a crisp nod. “Let us go. Even now I can feel our enemy’s breath upon our backs.”
The beleaguered group hurried on.
“How do you feel?” Barum asked as he drew alongside Aphere.
She offered a tired look. “Exhausted. This is turning out to be more than I signed on for.”
He agreed. “I’m not even a knight yet.”
“Nonsense,” she protested. “You’ve performed above the expectations of even our greatest. Titles are superficial, Barum. You are a true knight of Gaimos in every sense of the word. Would that there were more of you; perhaps our fates might be different.” She smiled before changing the subject. “What will you do after your ceremony on the Skaag?”
“I haven’t thought past tomorrow, to be honest. Malweir is a grand world. There is much I wish to see. Pirneon and I have gone through many trials, but the idea of being on my own, with the power to choose for myself, staggers my imagination.”
She reached out with a tender hand. “Keep a hold of those dreams. In the end, they are all we have.”
“I will, Lady.”
His head swooned with the relief only a troubled heart could deliver.
Geblin led them successfully to the stream, and their pace quickened. Now that they had clear direction, Pirneon decided it was time to surge ahead. The Fist were close, but he didn’t know where. He cautiously stole glances at the flanks as they rode. The terrain gradually change. The ground sloped more, becoming rocky and less forgiving. He worried that, if the mounds got too high, the Fist would have them trapped. A simple ambush to split them up, and the knights were finished.
“Faster. The forest edge is not far,” Kavan said as he doubled back. His face was etched with concern.
“What did you spy?” Pirneon asked.
“It’s what I didn’t see that bothers. There was no sign of the Fist at all. It’s almost as if they’ve given up.”
“Not likely.” Pirneon grimaced. A light breeze danced across his face. “We’re being hunted methodically. It’s only a matter of time before they strike again.”
Kavan agreed. “This is good ground for attack.”
A wicked screech shattered the air, cutting him off. The horses jerked in fright, threatening to spill the riders. Swords drawn, the knights looked about for the source of the danger. Another screech echoed the first, this one louder, closer. Their eardrums burned from the pitch.
“There! In the sky!” Geblin pointed up and cried.
The winged beast sliced through the low-level wisp of clouds. It was black as the darkest hell and bred for killing. Barum nocked an arrow and took aim. Even as he did, he knew it wouldn’t matter. The beast was too fast and agile. Worse, it was being ridden by a Fist.
Pirneon let out a harsh gasp. “Will we ever be free of these cursed people?”
Kavan wheeled around, sword uselessly pointed skyward.
“Flee! Get to the forest edge!” Pirneon barked.
All advantage lost, the knights fled at speed. Pirneon was concerned, knowing that the rider could drop any sort of munitions down upon them. Speed of horse was their only escape. Hooves kicked loose dirt and scree. Fear lanced their eyes. The sky rider screeched again and swooped down.
Pharanx Gorg grinned savagely as his prey broke and ran. The sky riders were rare, seldom ever seen in all Malweir. The Fist used them for scouting, but the Gaimosians didn’t know this. All they saw was a new threat. He swooped down again, careful to stay out of arrow range, and push them forward.
Kavan led them at full gallop. The forest edge was only a few hundred meters away, but the sky rider was closing. Wild cries suddenly sprang up from the mounds on either side of the trail. He knew what they were without bothering to look. The Fist was upon them. Kavan pushed his horse harder. The forest was so close.
Trees loomed ahead now. They were almost to safety. Sweat coated the horses in glistening sheens. Mud kicked up as the band raced on. Days of early spring rains left the ground waterlogged, dismal. Dark green moss clung to rock and tree. All around the landscape painfully reminded him of the swamp. The sky rider screeched again and circled higher. He was powerless to do anything but watch as the Gaimosians entered the forest.
Kavan heard a voice echo on the wind. “Faster dogs! Lose them, and it’s your head!”
The Fist closed on the forest.
Howls of rage, taunts, and roars echoed across the terrain behind them, forcing the beleaguered group ever on.
“Kavan,
shift north,” Pirneon advised between ragged gasps. “We need to reach the mountains before the Fist catch us.”
The knights kept pushing, though the density of the forest forced them to walk. Much of the ground was slick, slightly treacherous. Thick vines hung down like nature’s executioners.
“We’re going to have to stop at some point. The horses can’t take much more,” Aphere cautioned.
Pirneon bit back on his pride. She was right, regardless of his personal dislike of her. It was time to accept facts. The reality that they might not survive long enough to reach Rantis and fulfill the oracle’s prophecy whispered in the back of his mind. He had to use all of his assets if he hoped to escape.
“Geblin, how far until we reach Gnome territory?”
“We’re already in it,” came the solemn answer.
Geblin reined his horse in and laid both hands on the pommel of his saddle.
“What are you….”
Geblin pointed ahead. Dozens of armed Gnomes emerged from behind bushes and trees. All were dressed in various animal pelts and armed to the teeth. All of them had iron tipped arrows aimed at the Gaimosians.
“Keep your hands in the open, and make no sudden move,” Geblin cautioned. “They will kill you without thought.”
The Gnomes converged. Angry looks soured their faces.
“Down, off your horses,” their leader snapped. “You are now our prisoners.”
Geblin was first to obey. Once down, he placed his hands behind his head and said, “There are others following us. We are not your foe.”
“We shall decide that for ourselves, Geblin.”
The knights exchanged confused looks. More was going on between the Gnomes than they understood. Geblin hung his head.
Beyond the Edge of Dawn Page 19
