"It's not supposed to be a wall. It's supposed to be a line."
"They won't pay much attention to that."
Gabriella's mind was racing. "No… And I don't want them to. I want them to just think it's a little raised embankment."
"They'll just hop straight over it. You know that. It won't stop anyone for more than a second."
Gabriella nodded. "And they'll be much easier targets for archery practice when they do cross that line. Then there's a clear killing ground on all sides of the church. Anything that makes it past the wall is an arrow-magnet."
Erak looked back at the rubble dubiously, clearly trying to see some value in it and failing. "There's so much cloth and dry timber that your wall will go up like a tinderbox from the slightest — "
"That's the idea," she interrupted.
"What?"
"How many goblins are there who aren't afraid of fire? When that wall's piled nice and high with their dead, we fire it."
"A burning barrier? The timberwood and cloth will take fire, but how do we ignite it?"
"You could always dismantle the pipes for the gibbets," Crowe suggested with a smirk. "Lay them around the perimeter and pump the naphtha through them. Of course you'd have difficulty putting it all back together again afterwards."
"What sort of idiot would think that was a good idea?" Erak snapped. "Aside from how long it would take, there isn't that much piping in the system."
Crowe grinned. "Well, then you could always stuff the barrier with rags and blankets soaked in the naphtha. Maybe spirits from the inn and taverns. That should do the job." He winked at Gabriella. "Just like at the Huntress. Booze, lantern, roast gobboes all round."
Gabriella nodded. "That'll do to start and then corpse-fat will keep the flames going, and they'll be twice as reluctant to try coming through it."
Kurt Stoll was completely at a loss as to what was happening. He had slept for over an entire day, and when he finally did awaken, he found that his church was full of mercenaries and townspeople. It almost felt like being a proper Enlightened One again, the way his life had been before Warrigan came and introduced him to a type of fiery alcohol they served in Allantia.
He had drunk himself insensible that night and woken the next morning to find a grinning Warrigan and a smug tattooist.
"Welcome to the Brotherhood," Warrigan had said.
Stoll had been equal parts furious and terrified. He knew that, even under the influence of drink or drug, he would never have lost his faith. Warrigan had proved to him that he didn't have to lose his faith; he just had to do occasional favours, or his superiors would be given just enough suspicious information about him to make them look at him more closely. When they did, of course, they would find the linked circles of the Brotherhood, which Warrigan had had tattooed onto Stoll's shoulder blade.
That would be enough to send him to a gibbet.
So, Stoll had done the favours he was asked and he was half-sure that the last one had given himself away to Brand and DeZantez. Only half-sure, though, and they seemed to think he had been telling the truth about why he went to Warrigan's place.
Young Collin, who had disappeared from his cell, could have spilled the proverbial beans, of course, but Stoll doubted the knights would ever find his body; Stoll had buried it deep.
He had no idea what had happened afterwards, but he knew Warrigan was gone, and suddenly the town was under threat from goblins. That was something about which he could feel solidarity with the townspeople and the Swords. Goblins didn't discriminate on the basis of politics or faith.
Gabriella, Erak, and another man with a white ponytail and burned skin appeared in front of him, as he walked around his church, offering words of comfort.
"Enlightened One." As always, he expected one of the Knights to arrest or attack him, but Gabriella merely smiled. "We're planning the defence of town and I'd like to ask your help."
"I'll wield a sword or spear against those creatures, if that's what — "
"I'd like you to act as lookout, from the bell tower. From there you can direct what archery we'll have."
"Of course," Stoll agreed. Here was a chance to show his true loyalty.
"What about me?" Crowe asked, as the trio, now joined by Stoll, continued back out to the plaza. "I can head things up at the church, keep the naphtha brewing."
"Not under my roof." Stoll snapped tightly.
"Besides," Gabriella added, "I want you out there with me."
"What? Shoulder to shoulder, against the hordes of darkness? You've mistaken me for some other bloke."
"In front of me, where I can keep an eye on you. Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't want you at my back."
Crowe waved the insult away. "No offence taken. I wouldn't want me at my back either."
Erak nudged her and whispered. "We should lock him up."
"I know. But smuggling isn't as offensive as apostasy and treason. And he's a good enough fighter that we can use him."
As Gabriella outlined her strategy she found her confidence growing. Win or lose, they'd put up a good fight and she knew that Erak and Kannis and her men, would do likewise. She was proud of them all, and she hoped the Lord would be as proud.
Although everyone hoped the goblins would settle into a siege and allow time for reinforcements to arrive to defend Solnos, the creatures were impatient with hunger and bloodlust.
They came screaming and ululating like all the most depraved and demented souls from the deepest pits. Scrawny, yet strong and vicious, the horde swarmed through the streets driving fleeing humans back towards the marketplace and the church. Those people in town who didn't have defensible positions had been offered sanctuary earlier, which most had accepted. Some hadn't made it in time and now Kannis' mercenaries and the foot-soldiers of the Swords heard them screaming as they waited for the goblins to appear.
The goblins were audible streets away as they rushed towards the church and it wasn't long before the first of them rushed at the defenders and over the low walls of rubble. Their long and angular limbs moved twitchily as they ran, reminding Gabriella of the way spiders ran when they were shocked out of their hiding places. She couldn't help but shiver, even as, somewhere in the bell tower above, Stoll shouted: "To the East! Loose!"
The thrum and twang of bowstrings launched a rain of death that fell upon the rushing creatures. Spindly bodies fell but more goblins kept coming, rough hatchets and cleavers raised and ready.
Gabriella punched a goblin in the face, smashing half its fangs, and cut the throat of another. She caught the axe-haft of a third between her swords and twisted it out of the creature's grasp before kicking it between the legs in the hope that it was as vulnerable there as a human would be. It was and when it dropped, she rammed one sword through the back of its head.
More goblins hurled themselves forward and Gabriella stepped forward to meet them. She was, she thought, just getting into her stride.
Erak swung his longsword in a wide moulinet that bowled goblins over, left, right and centre. The longsword was still a natural extension of himself, and the mail and armour a uniform to be proud of. When he cut down his first goblin, he was relieved. Disembowelling a second was easier and by the third goblin to fall under his blade, he was enjoying himself. Defending the innocent against the evil was God's will, and was meant to be enjoyed.
Distantly, he heard Stoll's voice calling: "South! Loose!" and turned to his right. Sure enough, another wave of goblins was sweeping over the barrier, screaming with rage and lust for blood. Erak ran to the centre of the line facing the onrush, and braced himself.
He cut the head from a polearm that was swinging towards a conscripted defender, then spun and took the head of its owner. The weight and balance of his sword led it naturally into an overhead swing that came down onto a goblin's collarbone and cut down almost to its groin. As someone to his left speared a goblin that was swinging for him, Erak kicked the bifurcated body free and cut down two more.
> He looked for anything resembling a leader among the goblins and cut his way towards a burly goblin covered in tattoos. With a roar of defiance delivered right into its spittle-flaked face, he cut the creature's legs out from under it. Another goblin leapt forward, only to receive a shield-boss in the face, hard enough to snap the vicious creature's neck.
Yes, he decided, he was definitely enjoying himself.
Travis Crowe was angry. The goblins had forced him into the hands of the Final Faith and were generally screwing up his day. He also hated them on general principles and imagined that everyone else did too. They were inhuman, flesh-eating parasites that needed to be put down hard.
Darting to fill a gap between two Faith pikemen who were kneeling and letting the goblins run onto the blades of their polearms, Crowe blocked the swing of an axe with his broadsword. He then swept the sword round to hook the axe-head with the quillon and pulled it out of the axe-wielder's hands. Then he jabbed the pommel into the goblin's face and thrust the blade-tip through the monster's throat.
Another goblin was right behind its felled comrade but Crowe grabbed the end of the broadsword with both hands and swung the hilt towards the Goblin with all his might. It was an old mercenary trick the goblins hadn't seen before. The quillon punched clean through the thin metal helmet and into the brain behind it, dropping the goblin instantly.
That wasn't nearly enough for Crowe and he screamed back at the goblins, daring the ugly bastards: "Come and have a go if you think you're hard enough!"
They may not have understood the words, but they understood the stance and the tone of his cry. Several converged upon him and he laughed in their faces as he parried clumsy and untrained blows and counter-thrust to scrawny green throats all around.
Kannis used hand signals to direct her men to the areas of the barrier that were under the heaviest attack. The fight kept her busy, but nothing was going to stop her wondering where in the Pits these creatures had come from. Her unit had seen some villages razed by goblins, but nothing that implied as many of the creatures as had descended upon the troop the previous day, or as many as were here now.
All around the market square, men and women struggled bravely, bringing down goblin after goblin, but there was no sign of an end to the horde.
Kannis' right-hand man fell first, bravely fencing with three goblins at once, before a goblin got behind him and took his head. She spun and took the goblin's in return, but it was too late for her comrade.
"Sharks!" she called, "Let's show these green bastards who's got the sharpest fangs!"
Her men cheered and pushed forwards. They were almost on the barrier itself, slashing and cutting, kicking bony goblin heads back towards whatever rock they had crawled out from under.
Kannis was satisfied with the way things were going; they were outnumbered, but superior training and weaponry was more than enough to make up the difference. The irony occurred to her that her company probably could have fought their way out of town quite easily. It didn't matter; this was the first decent fight they'd had in years, and the Faith girl was pretty generous with pay.
"Let's earn that pay," she called, blocking a goblin axe and kicking its owner to the ground. She stabbed down with her sword to finish the goblin, then slashed upwards at another's groin. It doubled over and fell.
A gauntleted goblin fist slammed into the side of Gabriella's helmet, sending it clattering across the ground. Too stunned to think, but reacting on instinct, Gabriella slashed out at the fist as it came in again. Her blade bit into goblin sinew and bone and, as the creature screamed, she ran it through before risking a glance around and seeing that almost all her fighters were falling back towards the church.
"Fire the barrier!" Gabriella shouted. The cry was taken up and passed along, all the way along the lines of defenders.
Flaming pots of pitch and some lanterns, arced across and into the midst of the wall of goblins as they surmounted the barricades. A few screamed as the pitch stuck to them and burned, but most ignored the fragile missiles and let them shatter on the rubble. Jeers and hoarse screeches flew back at the defenders of Solnos from the unimpressed raiding party. Then the fragments of burning pitch grenades made it down to the naphtha and spirits-soaked rags that had been packed in between the dry timbers and rubble. Where burning pitch or oil met naphtha or spirits, fire bloomed, reaching out from under the chunks of cracked brickwork and snatching at the legs of the attackers. Gouts of flame burst upwards all along the barrier, forming a curtain of fire that separated the square from the rest of Solnos.
It sounded as if the town itself was screaming, as a few wounded defenders who couldn't get off the barricade and the less-than-human goblins were ignited. Their clothes burned on their backs and limbs, while their skin bubbled and softened, sticking the burning clothing to them.
Blazing goblins ran in blind terror. Some went back into the press of goblins that were stunned by the sudden inferno and ignited many of their own fellows in their thrashing. Others stumbled on through the flames and were dropped in the square by arrows from the church roof.
"At them!" Gabriella heard herself scream. Then she was running forward, her swords slashing left and right, slicing through limbs and throats. Beside her, Erak's longsword cut down everything in front of him and Kannis' troops rallied as they charged over the barricades, as soon as the fire had settled back down, in search of vengeance for their fallen man.
The other soldiers and townspeople fought just as hard, swords and axes biting into goblin flesh with gusto. Kerberos gazed down inscrutably as the fight spread out into the streets and beyond. The goblins were weakening, both physically and psychologically, and within the hour most of those who were being killed by the defenders were being struck in the back as they ran away.
By morning, no goblin still lived within the environs of Solnos.
CHAPTER 11
The sun cast its light over a square filled with blackened corpses and shattered arrows. The stink of blood and seared flesh hung in the morning air, with little enough breeze to dissipate it. The defenders of Solnos were bone-tired, none of them having slept more than an hour, just in case the goblins had planned a second assault.
Gabriella walked over to where Erak rested against the side of the church.
"Let's see if there are any goblin survivors," she said. "One of them may be able to tell us why they have come this far out from the World's Ridge."
They made their way across the square, towards a sprawl of broken and battered goblin corpses. There were defenders mixed in there too, their blood mingling with the greenish ooze that flowed from goblin veins.
Travis Crowe was prodding some of the goblin bodies with his broadsword, just to make sure and he looked up as the two Knights approached.
"You enjoyed that, yeah?" He said. "I know I did. There's nothing quite to so enjoyable as giving vent to your anger, is there love? Taking it out on someone who really deserves it."
Gabriella shook her head. "I don't enjoy killing."
He shrugged. "You should do. You're good at it."
Gabriella ignored him and squatted between a decapitated goblin and a disembowelled one. She prodded at the headless corpse's ribcage, disturbing the flies that had begun to settle on the skin.
"Look how starved they were," she said.
"You thinking of setting up a Mission to look after them?" Crowe mocked. "A gobbo soup kitchen? I can see that going down well in Scholten. Look, God-girl; all that them being starved means is they'll fight twice as hard to get a bite of somebody, you see? It doesn't mean we should be understanding them."
"What it means, sinner, is that they came along a route that didn't offer much food." Her brow furrowed. "If they had tried to go to Fayence they'd have been slaughtered." She heard a racking cough from nearby. "This one's still alive!"
Crowe made to draw his sword but Gabriella stopped him.
"Get a Healer and some rope," she said and began hauling the goblin into the church. "Er
ak," she called, and he ran to join her. "Come on." Together they carried the goblin into the church.
Crowe shook his head in wonder. "These religious types are touched in the head," he muttered to himself.
Kratok-Chal exploded into wakefulness as cold water was splashed over his face. He coughed and realised he could still breathe. His belly no longer ached with hunger, but there was cold fire burning in his lungs and his side. He could smell his own blood.
He tried to rise, but found himself tied down. Several humans were looking down at him and he wanted to claw their faces off.
"What are your people doing up here?" one asked. It had short hair the colour of a blooded copper blade, and Kratok-Chal thought it was a female, though it wore mail and armour.
He spat black sludge. "We're only the first, human girl. More follow. Revenge follows."
The female frowned. "Revenge? Revenge for what?"
"Don't lie, human girl. You know what for."
"Imagine I don't."
Kratok-Chal coughed and spat again. "We had a good home. Good land. Good hunting. Until the humans came."
"What humans?"
"The invaders. Men with swords of many tribes. They burned out our nests and killed our young as they slept."
"Where did all this happen?" she asked.
Kratok-Chal spat in her face. "You know where. Your people know where. That is how they can come."
"Pretend I don't know."
"Even if you don't know, human girl, I will not tell. Not tell and let more humans come to the Glass — " He fell silent with a hiss, knowing he had said too much.
"The Glass what?"
"The Glass Mountain."
"Glass Mountain? I've never heard of that town."
"Not a town. Mountain. Mountain made of glass. Humans call it Freedom.'"
The human female rocked back on her heels and Kratok-Chal was amused. Perhaps she was impressed by his stamina, or shocked that he had known the humans' secrets. It made him laugh, in the goblin fashion.
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