“Walchelin and his lot have done this before,” said Arthuras, slime dripping from his blade. The headless body twitched once more and fell over. “They must throw any travelers into the ghouls’ cellar to rise as ghouls themselves. No doubt they planned that fate for us.”
“How did you know the wine was poisoned?” said Carandis.
“I saw that gray dust,” said Raelum, “in High Morgon. Marsile must have realized a cult controlled this village. He left them the poison and commanded them to slay us.”
“By the Divine,” said Lionel. “You were right. We should never have come here.” He stiffened. “But…if they do not follow the Divine, then what to these blasphemers do with their own dead? Is every cellar in Abbotsford filled with ghouls?”
“We can worry about it later,” said Carandis. “What do we do now?”
Raelum lifted his helmet and put it on his head. He pulled the shield he had taken from the dead Northman from his back and set it on his left arm. “We cut our way out. If the villagers of Abbotsford are so eager to become ghouls, then let us speed them on their way!”
“Rightly said,” said Arthuras, sheathing his sword and fitting an arrow to his bow.
“I have a shield,” said Raelum. “Let me go first.”
He walked to the door, kicked it down, and sprang down the steps, shield held out.
Three arrows slammed into the shield. A mob of village men stood outside, armed with daggers, hammers, axes, and hunting bows. Walchelin stood behind them, screaming encouragement.
“Kill them!” he shrieked. “Slay them! If you fall, then your body shall be borne away to the nameless city, and you shall rise again in the immortality of Lord Baligant!”
Raelum yelled and charged the men. He blocked a hammer blow on his shield, twisted, and took off a villager’s head. Something whooshed over his shoulder. A villager fell dead, Arthuras’s arrow buried in his throat.
“For Chrysos! For Tarrenheim! For the Divine!” screamed Lionel, rushing the villagers. The peasants came at him, hacking and stabbing. Raelum dashed to Lionel’s side, bashed an axe-brandishing villager across the face, and killed another with a rapid stab. More of Arthuras’s arrows howled overhead, finding marks. Steaming blood stained the frozen earth, and Carandis loosed a volley of blue astralfire, killing a half-dozen men in a single heartbeat.
“Kill them!” said Walchelin, backing away.
Raelum and Lionel fought back to back, hacking their way through the mass of enraged villagers. Men fell and screamed around them, and Arthuras’s arrows and Carandis’s spells found their marks. An archer sprang past Raelum, taking aim at Carandis. Raelum’s sword cut through the bow and smashed into the man’s face. The archer fell, hands clutched over his bloody head.
A giant of a man, perhaps the village blacksmith, charged Raelum, a hammer clenched in each hand. Raelum ducked under the first blow, dodged the second, caught the third on his shield. Raelum twisted aside and stabbed, his sword cutting the blacksmith’s chest, but the wound didn’t seem to slow the blacksmith at all. The smith swung his hammer, and the blow clipped the side of Raelum’s helmet, filling his ears with a clamorous ringing. Raelum stumbled, stunned, and the smith raised his hammer for the kill. Lionel darted past Raelum, parried the descending blow, and thrust. The blacksmith moaned, and toppled to the ground with a crash.
The remaining villagers flung their weapons to the bloody ground and fled in all directions.
The battle had taken less than a minute.
“Thank you,” croaked Raelum, pulling his helmet off, rubbing his aching head.
Lionel shrugged, embarrassed. “It seemed timely.” Carandis and Arthuras joined them. “So…much blood.”
Raelum looked at the carnage and felt his stomach lurch. “We ought to decapitate the bodies. And where’s Walchelin? I mean to have his head before we move on.”
A horse thundered around the corner, making for the ruins on the hill. Walchelin snapped the reins, snarling. Before him sat a girl of about five years, bound and gagged, eyes wide with terror.
“After him!” Raelum broke into a sprint, despite the pain in his head. Walchelin glanced over his shoulder, spat a curse, and kicked his horse faster. The girl in his arms screamed and bucked, trying to worm free. The horse was a plow horse, old and plump, and began to slow down, despite Walchelin’s kicks.
Raelum did not.
The horse skidded to a stop before the gates of the ruined monastery. Walchelin threw the girl to the ground, planted a booted foot on her chest, drew his dagger, and began waving it while screaming in a strange language. Raelum tore up the hill, clumps of snow flying from his boots.
“Come forth!” shrieked Walchelin. “By our pact I summon you! By this spilled blood I call you forth, oh great ones!”
Even as Raelum dashed to the top of the hill, Walchelin raised his dagger high and plunged it into the child’s chest.
“You devil!” roared Raelum. “I’ll send your soul screaming straight to hell!”
Walchelin flung his bloody dagger into the monastery. “Red-eyed fool! You shall die, not I!” He laughed. “Did you think poison alone defended our village? We have made pacts with great ones, and for the price of blood they defend us!” His laughter rose to a maddened scream. “Die, die, die!”
In the silent, ruined monastery, something moved.
The sword in Raelum’s hand blazed to fresh flame.
Raelum turned his gaze from Walchelin. A slumped shape moved towards the monastery’s gate, dim and hazy. A skeletal horse strode towards into sight, ancient, leathery flesh hanging from clattering joints. On the thing’s back sat a withered corpse in black armor. The armor flashed and shimmered with swirls of pale green light. The demon knight’s long lance flickered with an eldritch green glow. From the lance hung a banner displaying a crumbling skull crowned with a diadem of bones.
Raelum knew the sign. It was the sigil of Baligant, Hierarch of the Old Empire.
And he felt the might of the greater demon within the withered form.
A sound like human speech came from the rider’s crumbling mouth. “Why have you called us, worm?”
“Kill him!” screamed Walchelin. “Kill him and all with him.”
Three more knights emerged from the ruins. One carried a giant black hammer, the second an axe, the third a bastard sword.
As one the four riders galloped their ghastly steeds at Raelum.
Chapter 6 - Silver Knights and Demon Knights
Raelum set himself, called on the Light, and gripped his shield.
The four demon knights thundered towards him. Lance, sword, axe, and hammer flickered with green light, and the banner of Baligant fluttered against the pale gray sky. Raelum just had time to wonder if these demons had served Baligant himself fifteen centuries ago, and then the riders were on him.
Raelum dodged the lance, the banner brushing against his arm. He ducked under a sweeping axe blow and caught a whirling sword on his shield. He stabbed up, his burning blade lancing for a rider’s chest.
It struck the knight’s armor and skidded aside in a spray of sparks and a whirl of green flame. The demon knight brought his hammer thundering down, and Raelum just had time to jump back. The riders reached the edge of the hill and wheeled around as Carandis, Lionel, and Arthuras sprinted up the path.
“What in blazes?” said Carandis. Arthuras raised his bow, drew, and released. The arrow struck the breastplate of a rider and exploded in a spray of green fire.
“Ware!” shouted Raelum.
Arthuras drew his sword and held it out before him. He began to sing, waving his hand back and forth over the blade.
The sword burst into hot yellow-orange flames.
“What the…” said Carandis. “How…”
Three of the demon riders galloped at them. The one with the lance wheeled and charged at Raelum. Raelum waited, leapt aside, and chopped down, hoping to sever the lance’s head. His sword struck the wooden shaft and rebounded, and the lan
ce’s tip ploughed into the ground. The knight reeled, almost tumbling from the saddle. Raelum brought his sword down in a two-handed chop.
Again his blow bounced away in a spray of ghostly fire, leaving the knight undamaged. Raelum stepped back, avoiding a plunging stab from the demon. He risked a quick look over his shoulder, and saw Lionel, Arthuras, and Carandis struggling against the other riders. Carandis flung blasts of white astralfire, but the knights seemed immune to her spells.
“Their armor!” Carandis shouted. “Their armor and weapons are enspelled! Your weapons won’t touch them.”
“Can you break the enchantment?” said Arthuras, parrying a sword blow.
Raelum didn’t hear the answer. He dodged another stab and slashed again. His blow bounced away from the knight’s leg with the usual spray of green flame. Raelum scowled, sweat dripping down his face as his mind raced. Perhaps the knights’ steeds did not share their strange immunity.
The lance-wielding rider spun for another charge. Raelum waited, danced aside, and brought his sword chopping down through the skeletal horse’s neck. His sword sheared through ancient bone and leathery flesh, and the horse disintegrated in a spray of bones. The rider struck the ground with an enraged howl. Raelum stabbed down, hoping to pierce the knight’s armor. His sword point skidded aside, and the knight screamed like a banshee, rolled to one knee, and struck out. The shaft of the lance slammed across Raelum’s chest. Raelum fell to the ground, the breath exploding from him. He barely dodged the next blow, and the lance ripped a scar in the ground.
“Their horses!” shouted Raelum, jerking to his feet. “Their horses are vulnerable!”
“In Lord Baligant’s name,” hissed the knight’s eyeless face, “thy head shall surmount my lance.” The knight shifted the lance to his left hand, drew a sword with his right, and charged.
Raelum caught the lance thrust on his shield, pushed the weapon aside, and riposted. His sword slid off the knight’s breastplate with the usual burst of green flame. How could he destroy these things if he couldn’t penetrate their armor?
He circled away, risking a glance at his companions. The others had destroyed the dead horses and now struggled with the knights on foot. Carandis flung another burst of white astralfire at one of the knights. The demon staggered, but shrugged off the strike.
The knight advanced towards Raelum, lance in the left hand, sword in right.
The black sword, Raelum noticed, did not shine with the same eldritch green glow as the knight’s armor and lance. Raelum dodged, blocking the knight’s next sword strike. The knight hammered down twice more, then stepped back, raising his lance for a stab. Raelum dashed past the strike, moved inside the knight’s guard, and seized the lance’s shaft and shoved it aside.
An agonizing chill shot up Raelum’s arm. He stumbled back and wrenched the lance from the knight’s armored hand.
The green glow covering the knight’s armor winked out, and the knight loosed a hideous shriek and charged. Raelum parried, the blow knocking his sword from his fingers. The knight raised his sword for another strike, and Raelum yanked Arthuras’s silver dagger from its sheath and stabbed. It crunched into the demon's side. The knight wailed, stumbling back, and grabbed the lance from Raelum’s hand.
The flickering green light reappeared around the knight’s armor.
Raelum took the dagger in his left hand and his sword in his right as understanding came to him. The knights’ weapons must hold some sort of spell that shielded them from harm.
“Come, you devil,” said Raelum. “You may have ridden at Baligant’s side, but I swear you’ll ride no further.”
The knight charged with a rending screech of fury, lance stabbing for Raelum’s chest. Raelum brought his dagger and sword down in a cross-parry and sidestepped, forcing the lance’s head into the ground. The knight staggered, losing balance. Raelum seized the lance, ignoring the chill, and wrenched it from the knight. The demon took its sword in both hands and attacked. Raelum parried the first blow, blocked the second on his dagger, and on the third twisted the knight’s sword aside and stabbed. His dagger plunged into the knight’s chest, and the demon screamed and stumbled back. Raelum brought his sword hammering down, and it ripped the knight open from shoulder to hip. The knight collapsed in a wail of agony, bones and ancient armor clattering across the ground.
Raelum reeled for a moment, staring down at the crumbling remnants of his fallen foe. The sounds of battle clanged in his ears. His head snapped back up, and he dashed to join the others.
They had not fared well. Blood streamed down Lionel’s face, and his shield had been shattered, his arm dangling by his side. Carandis leaned on her staff, face tight and drawn. Only Arthuras appeared untouched, his flaming sword roaring as he dueled with the demon swordsman.
“Their weapons!” yelled Raelum, sprinting. “Their weapons grant them protection!” The axe-wielding knight closed on Carandis. Raelum stabbed it from behind with his sword. His blade glanced off the knight’s shimmering armor, but the knight stopped in mid-stroke and turned. Raelum hooked his dagger behind the crescent of the knight’s axe and twisted. The weapon fell to the earth, and Carandis loosed a burst of azure fire. The knight keened and stumbled back, a charred hole in its breastplate. Raelum whirled and took off the knight’s head, sending armor and bones cascading to the ground.
Arthuras closed on the sword-wielding knight, driving it back. Carandis waved her hands, fingers trembling with exhaustion, and muttered a spell. A surge of invisible force gripped the knight’s sword and ripped it from the demon’s skeletal fingers. Arthuras stabbed, sending his flaming blade through the knight’s chest. The demon creature moaned and fell apart.
They closed on the hammer-wielding knight. Arthuras’s sword-strike knocked the hammer aside, and Raelum’s sword and dagger and sheared into its chest. Lionel yelled and thrust, sword crunching through armor and bone.
The last knight collapsed. Lionel dropped to one knee, gasping.
For a moment silence hung over the hilltop, broken only by labored breathing.
“Is anyone wounded?” said Raelum.
“I,” croaked Lionel, casting aside his helmet, “I am not well.” Blood dripped from a gash above his left eye. Lionel rubbed his forehead and stared at the blood on his fingers.
For a terrible moment Raelum thought Lionel would lick them clean.
“Hold still,” said Raelum, pushing aside Lionel’s hand. “I will heal you.”
Raelum drew on the Light and placed his hands on Lionel’s head and arm. The Light shone through Raelum in a burst of warmth, followed by a blaze of agonizing pain. For a terrible moment Raelum felt the gash, the broken arm, as he took Lionel’s pain on himself. He clenched his teeth and tried to keep from screaming. The pain ended and the warmth vanished. Lionel blinked, felt the half-healed scar on his head, worked his arm through a circle.
“Anyone else?” said Raelum, wheezing
Carandis shook her head. “I am well, just exhausted.” She leaned on her staff. “I should have seen it sooner. Those black weapons are things of blood sorcery. The villagers must have been sacrificing children to those things for decades, centuries…perhaps even since the time of Baligant. The murders released power, and the weapons absorbed that stolen power and bestowed it upon the bearer.”
“Murders,” rasped Raelum. His rage flooded anew, burning through his exhaustion. “Where’s Walchelin? By the Divine, I’ll have his head.”
“I know not,” said Arthuras. “He ran off as soon as the fighting began.”
Raelum snarled and turned away. “The child. Her body.” It reminded him of Red Philip and Khauldun. “She…she cannot rise as a ghoul…”
“Go on,” said Arthuras, handing Raelum his dropped shield. “I’ll do it.”
Raelum hesitated, nodded, and followed Carandis and Lionel to the hill path. He heard a ghastly crack and a thump. A moment later Arthuras joined them, wiping his blade clean.
“You never said you were a
n Adept,” said Carandis.
“I’m not,” said Arthuras.
“But your sword,” said Carandis. “That was a spell, if I’ve ever seen one…yet different. What did you do?”
“There are many different ways,” said Arthuras, “to use magic. But I’m not a blood sorcerer, if that’s what you fear.”
“What do we do now?” said Lionel, rubbing his arm.
“We go to the village,” said Raelum, “retrieve our horses, and go on our way.”
“What if they try to stop us?” said Lionel.
“Then,” said Raelum, “they had best be prepared to answer for their wickedness before the throne of the Divine.”
They returned to Abbotsford. A large crowd of villagers stood in the street outside the Inn of the Brothers, standing over the dead men.
“How could you do this to us?” said one old woman.
“How could you destroy our guardians?” said a man. “They kept us safe!”
“Who will keep us safe now?” said another man. He stepped forward, shaking his fist at Raelum. “You’ll answer for this, boy, I swear…”
Raelum punched the man to the ground.
“Safe?” Raelum spat. “You wretches, you cowered behind a shield of innocent blood! How many children have you murdered?”
“One a year, you young fool,” said the old woman, “and one every time we called on their aid!”
“Every year?” said Lionel.
“A small price for safety,” said the old woman. “I gave up two of my own. What does it matter? I had many more. The Lord Baligant commanded us to have large families to serve him. And the dead ones, why, we took their bodies to the nameless city, and they live there forever.” She spat at Raelum’s feet. “Our village has been safe, thanks to the guardians. What will you give us in repayment?”
“I will give you,” said Raelum, looking into their faces, “a promise. Get out of my sight. And by the Divine, I swear that if you don’t move now, or if I ever see any of you again, I will kill you. That is my promise. Go.”
The villagers stared at him. For a moment Raelum thought they might resist, but they looked at him, at his sword and his red eyes, and shuffled away. Even the man Raelum had punched crawled away.
The Third Soul Omnibus Two Page 30
