Finally a lucky archer was able to hit an eye. The Thrahk thrashed violently, insane with pain and rage. It pawed at the thick wooden shaft protruding from its eye socket, but the slightest touch triggered far more pain. It screamed and roared and whipped its arms about, but it halted its advance and stood still.
Two other Thrahks soon suffered the same injury. The beasts normally ignored the roars of their companions, but they were beginning to pay attention to the roars of pain and frustration. Some of them slowed, and a few even stopped and stared at the injured Thrahks.
The first Thrahk to be blinded by an arrow suddenly had soldiers swarming around it. They stabbed anywhere they could with their spears, and finally dark streams of blood began to pour from its belly and down its legs. The beast grew angry and it tightened its muscles as it tried to taunt or frighten its attackers. It leaned down and let out a mighty roar. Hot, foul breath rushed passed the nearest Medoran, and thick stings of saliva plastered his face and body. The soldier heaved his spear into the open mouth and it landed solidly at the back of its throat with a wet thud. The Thrahk convulsed a few times before its muscles went slack and it crumpled to the ground. One final gust of air escaped its lungs before the beast gave up clinging to life.
The other soldiers saw this and tried to repeat the results. Of course, they were not battling compliant adversaries, so killing the remaining Thrahks would not prove to be that easy. Still, spears and arrows flew through the air and brave Medorans hacked away at whatever parts they could reach. The Thrahks did not seem to fear the Medorans, but it was clear that they were getting aggravated. They also began to be more cautious, and they started to avoid the soldiers when they could.
As the battlefield emptied of Bhoors, Tannis began to notice men who looked a lot like Vohl in the distance. They were on horseback, and kept their distance from the bedlam. But some of them began to creep closer to the battle as they realized that the Medorans were able to bring down several of the Thrahks. They would need to change their strategy is they wanted to win the battle.
One of the immortals kicked his horse into a full run. He rushed by several Thrahks and Medorans fighting for their lives but made no attempt to join the battles. He rode as fast as his horse would carry him right to the front lines, and a shower of arrows came down on him as he rode. It was clear that the arrows brought him pain, but they did not bring him down. His horse, however, finally succumbed to its wounds and collapsed to the ground while running. The Dirujen rolled several times, breaking most of the arrow shafts that stuck out of his chest.
Tannis yelled when he finally realized what the Dirujen was trying to do. "Look away!"
But it was too late. One of the Mages had made eye contact with the Dirujen and he immediately lowered his arms, lowering the magical shield as well. Soldiers rushed out to stab the Dirujen, but it was too late. One of the Thrahks saw the commotion at the line and made its way toward the area.
The Dirujen finally lost consciousness as Medoran swords and spears opened up enough holes to drain his blood. Tannis knew that the man could not be killed, but if the soldiers could do enough damage fast enough, they could at least nullify the threat and render the Dirujen somewhat harmless.
Tannis looked to the Mage that had been affected, hoping to see him regain his wits and replace the mission section of the shield. But his mind still seemed to be controlled by another Dirujen off in the distance. Tannis thought that perhaps the last silent command given by the fallen Dirujen was to obey another Dirujen. This would ensure that the Mage would remain under control even after the first Dirujen met the Medoran blades.
The soldiers quickly tied the injured Dirujen up and carried him away. The sight caused the other immortals to pause, probably out of fear of being captured themselves. They had no reason to fear death or even really pain, but there was no telling what their enemy would do to them if they lost consciousness in battle and ended up a prisoner.
The Thrahk nearest to the gap in the magical shield stomped closer and closer. In a few more strides, it would cross through the line and wreak havoc on all of the Medoran army. Tannis could not think of how to remedy the situation in time, so he just accepted the fact that at least one Thrahk would pass. But he would have to do something. He called for his warhorse, Rhodiir to be brought to him.
Rhodiir broke into a run immediately, not even needing the command. Tannis drew his sword as he closed the gap between him and the Dirujen in the distance. If he could just reach him and interrupt the connection between him and the Mage, then the shield could be made whole again. Clumps of mud and grass flew up behind him as Rhodiir tore across the field.
Tannis did his best not to injure the Dirujen's innocent horse when he struck. He knew the immortal could not break eye contact with the Mage and that made him a defenseless target. Tannis saw it happening at incredibly slow speed. The sword whistled through the air as he swung. The skin of the immortal's neck pinched and folded before the edge finally scored the skin and sliced into muscle and vein. The blade caught on the windpipe and then jostled in his hand as the blade aligned itself between the vertebrae. The skin at the back of the neck offered little resistance by comparison, and the blade exited cleanly.
Although the Dirujen's head should have been severed completely, it had reattached itself before the sword had even made it all the way through his neck. But Tannis had succeeded in disrupting the connection between the Dirujen and the Mage in the process. Regardless of the lack of injury, the impact had knocked the immortal out of his saddle and onto the ground. Tannis leapt from his horse and put a massive boot on the man's chest.
The Dirujen smiled up at him. "It is too late, Medoran. One of the Thrahks is through."
Tannis flipped his sword over and thrust it though his neck, burying it hilt-deep into the ground underneath. Not only did this prevent the immortal from speaking, but it also kept his spinal column severed. For the time being, he was unable to move his body. Tannis decided to leave the man there pinned to the ground.
Even though he tried hard to avoid it, his wild swing of his sword had nicked the ear of the Dirujen's horse. He briefly touched the muzzle of the skittish animal in an effort to apologize before he left. But Rhodiir didn't let him linger long. The horse pressed his nose against his back to remind Tannis that they were surrounded by danger. Tannis wasted no more time and mounted his giant steed and rode back to the Medoran shields.
Chapter 34
Rommus dismounted after a long ride from Brinn to the battle at Taburdum. A soldier led his horse away as he assessed the situation on the field. Mages seemed to be putting up some kind of a shield to protect against approaching Thrahks. The Bhoors had retreated some, leaving a large, empty area for the Thrahks to move through unhindered. The walls around the city of Taburdum remained intact, and no Medoran troops were engaged in any conflicts there.
Colossal siege engines fired from deep behind the Medoran lines. Stark white boulders littered the open field, along with a few injured or dead Thrahks. Lifeless, bloody humans at the front line and well beyond looked like a crimson wave lapping at the shores of Medora.
The soldiers on the right side were panicking. One of the Thrahks had somehow made it through the shields and was killing anyone near it. On occasion, its chest opened and a bright blue beam of energy obliterated everything in its path. Glowing pools of orange remained of the melted steel, but nothing at all remained of flesh or bone.
The more distant Thrahks fired their beams as well, but the invisible shield kept their damaging rays from scorching the soldiers. The air crackled and popped with the furious combat of magic versus magic, and it smelled of burned and decaying flesh.
Rommus had no idea what to do. He suddenly felt very helpless. The majority of the men stood their ground, but the soldiers off to the right were full of dread and looking for a way to escape the Thrahk pouring doom out onto their ranks. Many, however, were using their long spears to attack the monster, and some of the spears had
drawn blood.
Rommus called forth the armor. A red flash alerted the troops to his presence, and he walked swiftly through them. When they realized he had arrived, they parted to let him through and he broke into a run. He drew his golden sword and focused everything on getting to the Thrahk attacking his men and killing the thing.
Before he arrived, the creature locked eyes with him. It roared as its chest began to open and the core of light inside it began to glow. An instant later the energy was released, and Rommus took a direct hit. For a moment the world went white and quiet, and he thought he had crossed over into the next world. But his armor had saved him. He had been knocked from his feet, and everything around him was burned. Clumps of earth and small stones rained down all around him as he stood.
The creature stared in confusion. It cocked its head both ways, letting out short, quiet grunts. Slime dripped from its jaws as it snapped them shut a few times, and it clicked its claws together slowly. Arrows bounced off of its bony plates, and several stuck into the thick skin, but it ignored them and continued to stare.
Rommus ran at the creature again at full speed. Again the chest opened and a powerful streak of light was emitted. This time the Thrahk missed, and Rommus got close enough to strike. He gripped his sword tightly and swung with all his might at a leg.
He did not get the result he expected. Instead of the Thrahk falling immediately to the ground, the sword just slipped right off the thick bony plates. He had never been close enough to a Thrahk to study their anatomy, but he assumed that the bony armor was covered in a thin layer of skin. He thought that if the sword could pierce that skin, and reach the blood inside, then the sword's magic would send the beast directly to the void. He had seen it happen many times, but without skin to cut, the magic did not work.
It was too tall to reach up and stab in its underbelly. The long spears could barely reach, and his sword certainly wouldn't. His mind raced to think of how to bring the creature down, but no ideas came. Before he could act, a huge boulder crashed into the shoulder of the beast. The bones had clearly been pulled out of socket or broken, but it did little to slow the Thrahk down.
The left arm hung limp, but the chest opened once again. This time the trebuchet that had launched the boulder was the target. The war machine was instantly destroyed, leaving behind just a few timbers that the beam had missed. Every soul between the Thrahk and the trebuchet had been lost.
Rommus ran to the right and headed for the injured left arm. It was dislocated and seemed that the Thrahk could not move it at all. The arm was long enough and hung low enough that he thought it might be possible to climb up to take a swing at the upper arm where there was no bony armor. Rommus tried to position himself in the best spot to grab on when the creature passed, but he slipped in the thick mud.
The giant feet stomped closer and closer. Rommus assumed the armor would protect him from being crushed, but if his face was forced down into the mud, he feared he would suffocate. He scrambled to his feet with the help of two soldiers in just enough time to avoid the coming Thrahk.
He grabbed the mighty wrist as it passed and hoisted himself up. He tried to dig his boots into the palm or use the claw-like fingers to stand on, but the hand was limp and lifeless. It was impossible to use it for something to stand on since the fingers just fell away under his feet, and it took great strength just to hold himself up. He could only use his left arm, since in his right hand he held the sword.
Before he even got a chance to swing the sword up and try to cut the skin of the upper arm, the Thrahk grabbed him with its functional hand. Rommus was dizzy for a moment as he watched the battlefield twist underneath him in his vision as the Thrahk lifted him up high over its head. Both of his arms were pinned against his sides, making it impossible to swing the sword. As he looked down into the mouth of the roaring beast, he feared what would happen if it decided to bite off his head. There was only one way to discover if the armor would protect against that, and he didn't want to find out.
But the Thrahk lowered him through its stinking breath toward its enormous open mouth. Rommus could see the soft, wet steaming fleshy insides of the throat waiting to gulp down parts of his body or all of it entirely. The back of the throat vibrated when another deafening roar escaped from the lungs. Ropes of saliva spewed forth, coating everyone nearby in a hot, slimy mess.
Rommus heard quiet tinkling sounds. At first he thought it was the soldiers futilely attacking the bony armor covering the legs, but he soon saw that there were arrows bouncing all over. The noises he heard were the arrows hitting his own armor when the Medoran soldiers missed their target. It seemed that they were aiming for the face, and since Rommus was hovering right near the open mouth, he was in the way.
Two arrows hit the roof of its mouth. It aggravated the Thrahk and it paused, using its thick gray tongue to attempt to dislodge the uncomfortable arrows. While its head was lowered slightly, another arrow burst through the lower eyelid of one eye, going right through the eyeball and stopping at the top of the eye socket. The creature screamed in agony, whipping its head back and forth. Dark blood pooled between the eyelids and dripped down the face; a ghastly tear of blood oozing from a completely inhuman monster.
It dropped Rommus. He flailed as he fell helplessly toward the ground. It was only luck that saved him when the sharp sword slipped into the belly of the beast. It slowed him enough that he was not injured when he hit the ground face first. Blood and gore splashed down all around him as the guts of the Thrahk poured from the wound above. The monster still stood, impossibly balanced in the moment right after death, but its slackened muscles would not hold it up for long.
Rommus slipped over and over in the mud as he tried to avoid being crushed by the falling creature. Soldiers rushed in to help him get to his feet, but ended up only being able to yank him back out of the way before the Thrahk fell in front of them. The head landed mere inches from them, as a massive, disgusting glob of bile spurted out of the throat.
A few cheers went up but there was little time for celebration. The other Thrahks were still attacking the shields and there were far too many to kill in the way they killed the one they had just dispatched. Many of them were injured and a few had died, but dozens still sent their beams of energy at the weakening shields. The posture of the Mages made it clear that their strength was beginning to fail. If the shields did not hold, there would be nothing the Legions could do except retreat, and that would allow the Thrahks to enter Medora and systematically destroy every city. It would be an easy task after that for the Bhoors and Vindyri to come in behind them and slay all of the people of Medora.
Rommus could not allow that to happen. He searched his mind for any ideas as he wiped some of the sticky gore from his helmet. He wiped the hilt of Archenarius on his cape so that he could grip it firmly, and then he stood. He watched the boulders fly thought the air at the incessant enemy, and he watched their terrible magic chip away at the Medoran defenses. There just wasn't enough time to come up with a plan that would work. They were coming too fast.
"Get me a spear or at least the shaft," Rommus said. "Some rope too. Hurry."
A soldier immediately handed over his spear and some rope was taken from some of the timbers of the trebuchet that was destroyed by the Thrahk. Rommus placed his golden sword at the tip of the long spear and began tying it tightly to the shaft. He tied most of the blade snuggly to the spear, leaving only a few inches of the tip sticking out at the end. He had essentially turned his magical sword into a makeshift magical spear. It was crude, but functional, and with the extended reach, he could use the magic of the sword to bring down the mighty monsters in a single stab from the ground. It was a little foolish to place his cherished weapon at the end of a stick, but he felt he had no other options.
Brave soldiers ran behind him as he rushed out to meet the nearest Thrahk. It greeted them with the same ferocity and rage as the one before, and this one was even a little bigger. The soldiers did not attempt t
o stab at it, but instead ran around it, trying to draw its attention away from Rommus. After a while, the confused monster followed the running soldiers, twisting its head around and snarling in frustration. It tried several times to grab one of the pesky humans, but they stayed far enough away that it was impossible.
When Rommus shoved the tip of the sword into the soft skin of the belly, the Thrahk immediately died. The sword had stolen the soul of the creature and sent it to dwell in the void. The massive body collapsed to the ground, never to harm another human being.
This method was effective for killing another two Thrahks, but before any more could be killed, horns were blown and the remaining Thrahks halted their assault. They slowly turned around and lumbered back to their masters in the distance. It seemed, for the time being, that the Medorans had turned back the assault.
But then Rommus heard another roar behind him. It wasn't the booming roar of a Thrahk, but it was just as menacing. He turned to face the sound to see two man-like creatures swinging heavy war hammers at the surrounding soldiers. One took a hit right to his cuirass, and he flew though the air as if he was a child's doll. He was dead on impact.
The other soldiers did their best to fight off the strange purplish men, but their spears could never find their mark. They were batted away with ease and then broken to splinters with the hammers. One of the beasts lifted up a soldier by his neck and crushed it into mush. His head nearly came off of his body when it fell to the ground.
They were more like animals than men, but they must have had more humanity in them than the Thrahks because they sang as they slaughtered. It was an incomprehensible assemblage of grunts and ancient words, but it was perfectly timed to their motions, and both beasts sang the same thing. It appeared that they enjoyed the killing. It was artistic expression more than it was mindless butchery.
Soul Under the Mountain (Legend of Reason Series) Page 20
