Disciple of War (Art of the Adept Book 4)

by Michael G. Manning

  Will was tempted to return and call the whole thing off. They still had options. It might not give them the victory he wanted, but he could save the siege and stop the Darrowan advance. He was debating the idea with himself when he heard the peal of horns from within the city of Klendon, and a few seconds later the gates began to swing inward.

  A shout rose from the defenders of Klendon as they sallied through the gates to take Second Division from behind. The captain commander of the garrison had finally sprung the trap. Will might have felt relief, but at the moment his heart was pounding like a drum as hundreds of men charged past him.

  He wanted to shout, to urge the sub-marshals to take action, but he kept his mouth shut. Not yet, idiot! Do your part first. Nicht and Sundy will act at the right time.

  As the last of the Darrowan soldiers ran past, Will heard the inevitable creak as those within the city started to shut the gates again. It was time. Turning the corner, he ran a short distance into Klendon, so that he stood just within the gates and between the gatehouse’s two massive portcullises.

  The portcullises were a failsafe of sorts, or a last resort, should an attacker breach the gates. The two massive iron grills stood ten yards apart, so that they could be used to trap attackers between them, but either one alone was enough to stop an invader’s army from entering. Will’s job was simple. Stop the gates from being closed, while simultaneously preventing either of the two portcullises from being dropped down.

  Will had prepared one simple spell to accomplish all three things at once. He erected a force-wall, lining it up along the length of the wide corridor under the gatehouse. Its position protected him on one side, while simultaneously preventing the right-hand portion of the gate from closing. Once the defenders realized what he’d done, they also triggered the portcullises, but the force-wall kept them from falling as well, though Will felt the strain as so much heavy weight came to bear along the top of his wall at either end.

  “Terabinians! The city is ours!” he shouted, his voice echoing with such depth and timbre that it seemed to shake the walls around him.

  Chapter 30

  As Will was blocking the city gates, Klendon’s defenders reached the rear of Second Division’s line. Unfortunately for them, the seemingly unprepared Terabinians were expecting them. As the Darrowan soldiers charged out they smoothly turned in place. What had seemed to be the back row, primarily spearmen, bent and lifted their shields from the ground, while those behind them switched to spears. They had been in a reversed formation the entire time, though they had made every effort to appear unready.

  The line of shields and spears that met the Darrowans was firm and solid, which in practical terms was a disaster for the smaller force of attackers who had expected to take their enemies by surprise. Even worse, while those that met them held their ground, the wings of Second Division were already charging in from the sides, heading for the gates and their now-beleaguered commander.

  For the first few moments, the men in the gatehouse didn’t know what to make of their inability to close one of the gates, and they were even more confused when the portcullises dropped only a foot before stopping suddenly. It wasn’t long, though, before one of their sorcerers spotted Will. He wasn’t able to keep using Darla’s technique while maintaining the force-wall, and the camouflage spell only went so far when dealing with people who could see turyn being used.

  Spells and elementals began attacking his wall from one side, while an angry line of soldiers two abreast began running toward him once they figured out how his wall was placed. Will had lined up his force-wall about seven feet from the right-hand interior wall, giving himself plenty of room. It also meant the enemy could come at him only two at a time, though others were running outside the gates to find the other end of his wall and flank him. Soon they’d be approaching him from both sides.

  He dropped the camouflage spell as soon as the soldiers began to head toward him. While maintaining the force-wall, he couldn’t use other force spells, like his point-defense shield, or the force-lance, both of which would have been massively useful to him just then, but he’d planned for his current situation. The force-wall had been his first prepared spell; the iron-body transformation and silver-sword spell were his second and third. Argent flames erupted from the blade of his falchion as he met the first attackers.

  Will’s fighting skills had improved over the years, though he was by no means the greatest of swordsmen, but his magic gave him a considerable advantage. The silver-sword spell greatly enhanced the cutting power of his sword. It still couldn’t easily cut through mail or a shield (though it would leave deep cuts), but it could pass through ordinary leather or padded gambesons much more easily than a mundane blade. That combined with the fiercely burning flames and the fear and hesitation they produced in his opponents, made quite a difference.

  They still would have eventually overborne him with sheer numbers, especially as they began to come at him from both sides, but Will was also able to use the source-link spell to great effect. As the first men reached him, he connected to their sources and paralyzed them in an instant, causing them to freeze in place. This not only caused those behind to stumble over them, but it also made them easy targets. His blade rose and fell ruthlessly, cutting through flesh and bone while it sent streamers of blood through the air.

  Silver fire sizzled when it met blood, and the air was filled with the stench of burning flesh as the next soldiers to reach him began trying to move away, struggling with their companions behind them.

  Will used that brief respite to turn and deal similarly with the first of those to flank him from the other end. Men fell screaming, with mortal wounds, and the fight began to devolve into chaos as Will was forced to divide his attention.

  Ten were down, then fifteen, and Will began to doubt he could last. His enemies were everywhere, and his turyn was fading as he struggled to maintain the wall that kept the portcullises up. Tiny had been right. A hundred yards was too far, and he already felt as though he’d been fighting alone for an eternity.

  Light flared in the distance, from the direction of the bridges, accompanied by a low rumble and mingled cries of dismay and triumph. Will was too busy trying to stay alive to think on it, but in the back of his mind his inner voice was commenting, That would be Elizabeth. The bridges are down.

  Something struck him from behind, slamming into the backplate of his demon-steel breastplate. His first impression was that he hadn’t been hit hard, but the steel burst into black flames, and when he turned he saw a massive man holding a war-maul in two hands. Two things were immediately apparent: first, the force of the blow must have been incredible for his breastplate to have absorbed enough kinetic energy to start showing flames, and second, not only had the otherworldly steel protected him, it had also prevented him from being thrown forward.

  All that passed in an instant as the brute whipped the massive steel head back into the air for another swing. The man’s strength had to be immense, but when he smiled, Will finally understood. Sharp fangs flashed, sending a shiver up Will’s spine. Vampire!

  Backpedaling, he felt several blows strike his arms and side as he narrowly avoided the next swing of the maul. His mail would have protected him from the cuts, but without the iron-body spell, one of the particularly well-aimed blows might have broken the bones in his forearm. Unable to use his point-defense shield and without any more spells prepared, Will knew he was in trouble.

  The argent flames on his sword could kill a vampire, but the maul had a long handle, and the fiend was impossibly fast. Will tried to sidestep and stumbled as his foot came down on a dead body. To make matters worse, before he could correct his balance, one of the soldiers at his back was close enough to shove him forward, directly into the path of the next swing.

  The maul’s heavy steel head didn’t impact his breastplate this time—it smashed solidly into the upper part of his left arm. Mail did nothing to mitigate the damage from impact weapons, though the
padding of his gambeson helped somewhat. Even so, intense pain shot through Will’s body as the maul snapped the bone, despite the protection of his iron-body spell.

  Falling to the right, he tried to twist, to bring his sword up in defense, but someone behind him slammed something hard against his helm. Stunned, he dropped the falchion and then someone knocked him down. Men pressed in from every side, swinging their weapons two-handed to try and hurt his iron-reinforced body.

  One enterprising fellow had lost his sword and used a shield, holding it in both hands while driving the edge down into his thighs. Will might have congratulated him on his cleverness, if he hadn’t been in so much pain from the blows. His only saving grace was that the soldiers crowded around him so eagerly that there was no room for the vampire warrior to swing his maul and give Will a crushing end.

  Curling into a ball, Will was forced to accept the brutal punishment while he tried desperately to maintain the force-wall. If he released the spell, he might still be able to save himself by using a quick succession of force-lances and point-defense shields, but that would cost him the battle.

  “Give me some room! Let me crush this bug.”

  He had a bad feeling that it was probably the vampire warrior’s voice, and as the soldiers moved away, he saw the maul rising. Will tried to move, but everything hurt too much. Staring up, he saw the steel head start to descend. So this is how I die, he thought. No!

  Snarling, Will drew on the black flames burning in his breastplate, using them to fuel a spell that came together in an instant of desperation. Wind and flames exploded around him, shredding the Darrowan soldiers and turning the air into a sizzling, stinking, burning inferno of blood and tattered flesh. It died away seconds later, and silence reigned for a moment, but for the ghoulish flopping of some of the larger remnants of the vampire warrior.

  That was a sloppy wind-wall, he realized. He had finally reflex cast the spell, although he’d done it so hastily that he hadn’t fully converted the demonic turyn. Nausea washed over him as the void turyn sickened his body. Bruised, broken, and fighting the sickness of such antithetical turyn, it would probably be minutes before he could do much—and more soldiers were coming.

  Where was Barrentine’s company? Where was Tiny, or Laina? Glancing back toward the open gate, Will saw a fierce battle raging as the now-retreating men from Klendon struggled to keep Second Division from reaching the open gates. Their cohesion was rapidly failing, but it looked as though their desperate tactics would delay the Terabinians enough to seal Will’s fate—and save their city.

  Will had to admire their effort, he just wished it wasn’t coming at the cost of his life. Looking back into Klendon, he saw a new group of cautious Darrowans beginning to head in his direction. Considering how crucial the moment was, they should have charged at him, but he couldn’t blame them for their timidity. They’d just seen roughly fifty of their friends die trying to kill him, including their undead champion.

  Trying not to vomit, Will struggled slowly to his feet. Somehow his legs were still able to bear his weight and even his right arm still worked—albeit reluctantly. “Come and get me, assholes!” he yelled in empty defiance. “Come see how Arrogan’s apprentice bleeds, if you dare!”

  Those might have been inspiring last words, Will thought wryly, if I’d had a weapon in my hand. Glancing down, he stared at his still burning sword and wondered if he dared try to pick it up. He was pretty sure he’d fall over if he tried to bend down that far. While he considered it, the Darrowan soldiers finally gathered their courage and began running toward him.

  Sorry, Selene. I tried. Will watched them come, their faces lit by a strangely flickering light, as though they approached a campfire. Turning, Will saw a wave of fire expanding among the Darrowans outside who were defending the gates, and in the gap that followed, a massive form charged through.

  “Tiny!” Will cheered. Looking back, he saw the men coming for him had paused a short distance away. They too were spellbound by the sight of the giant warrior charging toward them. “If I were you, I’d run,” Will advised. “You won’t like my friend when he’s angry.”

  They seemed to be considering his counsel, but it was too late. Tiny arrived with a roar, and as he passed, his shoulder knocked Will flying, sending him against the stone wall. The big man dropped his shield and scooped up Will’s burning sword so that now he held two weapons, a war hammer in his right and the falchion in his left. When he reached the enemy, he used both to good effect.

  Men screamed and men died, but Tiny moved forward like an avalanche of fury. Looking back in the direction of the battle, Will saw that the Darrowans had scattered. Some of them were still burning, while others had simply seen the wisdom of being somewhere else. In their wake, a small, armored figure approached, flanked by her two elementals.

  Laina ran toward him as quickly as she could, but she was soon passed by the soldiers of Barrentine’s company, who were racing to follow Tiny’s charge into the city. They flowed around the sorceress and past Will. Soon, Will was surrounded by friendly soldiers.

  Actually, ‘surrounded’ was a poor word for it. A better description would have been ‘nearly trampled to death’ by friendly soldiers. They streamed past him and into the city. Meanwhile Laina’s earth elemental had arrived, and a column of hardened earth grew upward to brace the portcullises.

  The earthen column collapsed a moment later when one of the enemy sorcerers countered her effort, but by then the massive wooden braces that some of the soldiers from Barrentine’s company had been lugging arrived. They wedged the timber in place while the city defenders, sorcerers and soldiers alike, were forced to abandon their positions by the advance of Second Division.

  Emory, Bug, and Sir Kyle himself used their elementals to defend the open gates from magical assault while the rest of Second Division entered the city. Will was at last able to release his force-wall as Laina and Darla reached his side.

  Darla took a defensive position, guarding them while Laina looked him over. His sister’s face betrayed her worry, but once she was certain he was still mostly in one piece her rough wit returned. “You look even worse than usual,” she remarked.

  Will smirked, then grimaced as he discovered that even that movement hurt. “I think I got the better end of the deal,” he said, waving his hand at the grisly remains scattered in every direction around him. The nausea from the void turyn was almost gone now, and he was starting to think about his next move.

  Laina took a moment to incinerate the still-moving remains of the vampire warrior, then shook her head as she replied, “This is what meeting you makes people want to do to themselves, I guess.” She eyed him again, then added, “Take one of your potions.”

  “Not yet. It will probably put me to sleep, and there’s still more to do.”

  Flickers of anger showed in her eyes, but Laina kept her voice even. “You’ve done enough. Your arm is broken, and you have no idea how bad your face looks. Take the potion.”

  “Worried about me?”

  She snorted. “Just keeping my promise. Selene wanted me to take care of you.”

  Will rolled his eyes and started moving forward, heading toward the fighting inside the city. “Sure.”

  “I said take the potion.”

  Laina’s voice had gained a certain resolve, and Will knew she was prepared to try and force him. Will turned back. “When I’m done.” Laina’s earth elemental began to move before he finished the phrase, but Will reacted even faster—his source-link connected with Laina, and half a second later she was a prisoner in her body. The elemental continued to move, but Will gave her a warning. “Call it off. If I have to drain your elemental, it won’t be much use to you for several hours.” The elemental stopped, and he released the paralysis binding her.

  “Asshole,” she spat. “I’m trying to help you.”

  “Then help me, but don’t try to stop me. I’ll take the potion when there’s either nothing else to do, or I can’t do anything e
lse.” He summoned a regeneration potion from the limnthal and handed it to her. “Here. If I collapse or fall unconscious, you can give it to me yourself.”

  He turned back and began following the soldiers of Second Division into the city of Klendon with Laina and Darla following close behind. As he went, he prepared several spells to take the place of those he had used: a force-dome, another iron-body transformation, and a light-darts spell.

  The fighting in Klendon was desperate, confused, and chaotic. If anything, it was even worse than what he had seen when the Darrowans burned Barrowden. At least then it had been daytime. In the dark streets, soldiers and frightened citizens fought, fled, and died. Although Will believed he was on the right side of the conflict, he had no doubt that things would become even uglier, and they still had to take the keep where the city commander was probably holed up.

  Even once they had taken the city, laying siege to the keep within it would be a bloody undertaking—and one with little point. The Darrowans had lost, of that there was no doubt. The only question now was how many people would have to die before they admitted it.

  Will stalked through the streets, helping here and there with force-lances when he came across scenes where the defenders were holding off the Terabinian soldiers effectively. Some might have said his actions were justified—it was a war after all—but deep down it still felt like plain murder. The enemies he slew never had a chance, and it showed how much he had changed over the years that he barely hesitated as he accepted his own actions as a necessary evil.

  Not all those he killed were Darrowans, though. Three blocks into the city, he heard screams coming from one of the shops on a side street. Seeing no one fighting, he followed the sound and found four Terabinian soldiers. Two were holding down the shop owner’s wife while the third was undoing his trouser laces. The fourth was standing watch just inside the door.