Siege At The Settlements (Book 6)

by Craig Halloran

  Ben drew another and fired once more.

  Twang! Zip!

  It punched a hole in the metal belly of a gnoll soldier and dropped him to the ground.

  Ben pumped his fist a little. He hated gnolls. They were worse than rabid dogs to him. They were rabid dogs that could talk.

  A howl rose up among the soldiers. One pointed less than twenty yards away.

  “Seems the surprise is over,” Ben said, dropping Akron to the ground and drawing his own sword. Fang still hung on his other hip. He’d used the mystic blade before, long ago, and had not used it since. He hadn’t even tried. It was Nath’s. “Maybe next time.”

  He set his feet in the grass.

  A lizard man charged with a spear.

  Ben spun.

  Chop!

  Hacked its leg.

  Another lizard man followed. It stabbed. Ben jumped. Whack! It lost its tail.

  Something clipped Ben’s leg, spinning him around. He jerked back. A club clipped his head. He saw stars and blood, ducked and swung back.

  Slash!

  A gnoll fell, holding its wounded belly.

  Ben struck again and again. His sword banged off metal. Cut flesh. Hit bone. But the soldiers hit back.

  Slash! Stab!

  Ben parried and punched.

  The soldiers crowded him. A gnoll dove onto his legs. A lizard man tackled his arms. Down into the high blood-slicked grasses he went.

  Madness.

  Bayzog cast his hands over his head and let the first onslaught of magic fly. Bees of bright light erupted from his fingertips. With an angry buzz, they assaulted the faces of the oncoming attackers.

  The soldiers of Barnabus swatted, cried out, fell and writhed on the ground. They kicked up dust, screamed and moaned.

  Bayzog backed away. He had stopped a few of them, but more were coming. He needed time to summon his energy. A gnoll burst out of the chaos, snarling and making a straight line for him, spinning a spiked flail over its head.

  Bayzog didn’t have a spell ready to counter.

  I should run.

  He stayed and lowered the Elderwood Staff before him.

  The gnoll slowed to a stop ten paces away, its evil eyes wary.

  “Wizard,” it barked while rattling a necklace of bones on its neck. “Elf. I have no elven trinkets, either.” It barked again and darted straight for Bayzog.

  Bayzog jumped aside. Ducked.

  Whoosh!

  The spiked ball of steel passed over his head. Bayzog tried to recall a spell. Anything.

  The hulking gnoll swung the flail like a toy, knotting up its muscular arms. It struck.

  Bayzog jumped.

  Whoosh!

  The spike ripped through his robes.

  The gnoll barked and laughed. It spun its mace again.

  Bayzog backed up with his staff guarding the front of him.

  “With a single word I can destroy you,” Bayzog warned.

  The whirling of the flail stopped. The gnoll paused in thought. It rested its big shoulders.

  Bayzog took a breath. Wiped the sweat from his eyes.

  Suddenly, the gnoll wound its arm, flung the flail and struck him in the belly.

  Bayzog groaned and went down on both knees. Pain exploded in his stomach. He looked up. The gnoll stood over him, holding a dagger. It kicked him in the jaw.

  “I can destroy you as well, and I will.”

  Bang!

  Down went an orc.

  Bang!

  Down went a lizard man.

  Bang!

  Down went a gnoll.

  Brenwar showed no mercy. He busted up heavy armor. Broke bones like twigs. He and War Hammer were a war machine. Striking with the fury of a storm. Wreaking havoc on enemies.

  “Had enough dwarf yet?”

  Bang!

  A gnoll’s dented helmet flew from its head and bounced down the road. Wide eyed, the gnoll started to run, teetered and fell to the ground.

  Chest heaving and bleeding from several wounds, Brenwar scoured the area for his friends. He didn’t see them. He saw something else. A shadow from the skies above on the grounds below. He looked up.

  “Bloody beards.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Gorlee shivered. His dragon skin was thick but the chill winds still bit. He covered his ears and puffed misty breath. The picturesque scene below him got old after the first few hours. Snow-capped mountains and lush valleys covered in shadows or golden sunlight, all of it became a blur. Now he lay down on his back, glancing up at the dragon’s belly.

  I guess they’re living armor, those scales.

  Thousands of hard scales covered every inch of the dragon from gut to neck. Clean rows of bronze, shifting and rippling in rhythm to the dragon’s mighty wings. The dragon flew effortlessly through the air, holding Gorlee in the heavy cage like a fish in an eagle’s talons. Gorlee, always fascinated with dragons, fought the urge to reach up and touch its great claws. Thick and heavy like wrought iron, with tips as sharp as razors. Gorlee envisioned the dragon ripping rocks asunder.

  Please don’t try to talk to me.

  It was a concern. Dragons could talk to dragons. Sense things about one another that others could not. Dragonese was their language, and Gorlee didn’t know it. He recalled a few words Nath had said, at best. He sat up and pulled his knees into the chest.

  Wherever I’m going, what to do when I get there?

  He sunk his head between his knees and tried to ignore the moaning in his stomach.

  Cold and hungry is no way to live.

  The dragon jerked the cage. Gorlee bounced across the floor and into the bars. He caught the dragon gazing at him. A smile lifted over its oversized teeth. It shook the cage again. Gorlee’s head dashed across the bars. He rubbed the lump on his head.

  Really? As if I’m not going to suffer when I get wherever I’m going.

  The dragon turned away and spread its wings wide. A rush of wind caught Gorlee. They were descending, and fast. He pressed his face to the bars and held on. A series of tiny structures appeared below. The make-up of a town. Downward they drifted in a large winding circle. Gorlee could see the square made up of farms and roads below. What he thought were small streams turned into rivers. Huts became villages, towns, and cities.

  Is that what I think it is?

  He saw the tops of large buildings now. They looked like toys beneath him. No wonder dragons look down on us. They’re used to being so far above us.

  Gorlee’s heart raced. The once small buildings became massive. The containment of the cage and the freedom of the air gave him a false sense of security, but he now realized that peace was about to come to an end. The evil world was ready to greet him once again and he had no idea what to expect.

  Suddenly, the dragon dipped, rattled the cage, and snorted.

  Gorlee clutched at the bars. “Don’t drop me now, you terror!”

  He heard a rumble in its great throat.

  Maybe that’s what a dragon laughing sounds like.

  He turned his attention downward. In seconds, the city was much closer than it had first appeared.

  Narnum?

  Gorlee didn’t spend much time in the great cities. He preferred the isolation of the less-traveled paths and places, but Narnum, the Free City, was certainly unforgettable. Tall and magnificent towers jutted from the ground and reached for the clouds. The roads were wide and many. People moved like tiny ants below, working on more great structures, heavy stone and metal towers like he’d never seen before.

  What is going on down there?

  Slowly, the dragon spun in a tighter circle. Gorlee picked up the outlines of more dragons roosted on rooftops like birds. Some looked right at him and some did not bother, instead casting their eyes downward, warding the people below like hawks warded their prey. Gorlee felt his chest crush. Freedom was gone from the Free City.

  The dragon beat its mighty wings and set Gorlee’s cage down on a raised dais in the middle of the roof of the
tallest building. It’s great claws unclamped and without a final glance, off it went, up into the sky, disappearing into the grey clouds.

  Gorlee spun around in his cage. The rooftop was huge. Big enough to hold hundreds of people, maybe over a thousand. There were benches, railings, and gardens, but no people, leaving him alone with a view of the world in all directions.

  He checked the rope on his wrists that coiled around his legs and neck. It was still snug. Uncomfortable.

  Gives me a reason not to talk anyway. But how will I ask for food?

  Thunder rumbled overhead. The stiff winds whistled through his cage bars and the building parapets. Gorlee focused on an entryway that was well concealed in the distance. He didn’t notice any others.

  One way up and one way down.

  His eyes drifted to the outer wall.

  Well, maybe two ways down.

  He made his way over to the cage door and played with the lock. He picked at it with his claws. It had an intricate key slot on the heavy lock.

  I fear this is beyond me. The lock clattered against the bars and he backed off.

  He found it strange that Faylan had the key and she wasn’t here. There must be another that someone else has. The High Priestess, perhaps. He tried to picture what that woman would be like. Would she be a large demonic hag or something else entirely?

  Minutes passed. Dark clouds drifted overhead. The heavy rain came with bitter wind.

  Great.

  An agonizing hour passed with Gorlee’s thoughts racing every minute.

  Perhaps they’re on to me.

  Maybe they wait for me to change.

  Or try to escape.

  They’re trying to starve me into extraordinary feebleness.

  Thunder boomed. Lightning flashed. His innards groaned and jumbled.

  Must it be so miserable?

  He huddled and rested his back against a corner. Closed his eyes and shivered. Hours went by one after the other. The pouring rain brought coldness, not comfort.

  CHAPTER 31

  Ben punched and kicked. The weight of the soldiers overwhelmed him. A mailed fist struck him in the face. A strong arm tore his sword free from his hand. Ben head-butted one with his rock-hard chin, drawing forth a groan.

  Whop!

  Pow!

  He saw bright lights. His limbs went numb. Ben was strong, but his strength was no match for the other soldiers. Lizard men and gnolls were brutes by comparison. Ben curled up into a ball. They wailed on him with hard kicks and heavy fists. His armor was the only thing keeping his bones from being splintered. Finally, the beating stopped.

  “Get me a flail,” a gnoll said, glaring at him. It had a mouthful of big yellow teeth like a dog.

  Ben struggled up to his feet, huffing for breath, swaying, and bleeding. There were four of them and only part of what was left of him. He could feel his face swelling.

  “What’s the matter, Dog Face? Don’t you know how to finish a beating?”

  Another gnoll kicked him down to the ground. It barked and howled in his face. Gnolls liked to torment their foes.

  He spat blood and got back to his knees. Spread his arms wide. “Say, get an orc over here to do your job. At least they hit harder.”

  The gnoll strolled over, swishing its flail from side to side. It pointed its long hairy finger. “Break jaw. Break body. Break spirit,” it said with a fiendish grin. “They kill.”

  Ben lowered his hands. Fang still hung on his belt.

  “Well,” Ben began, clutching his side, “you might want to let an orc in on it if you want to succeed in all three things. So far, you’ve not succeeded in a single one.”

  The gnoll snarled. Its flail whizzed to life. It jumped at Ben’s swing.

  In a flash, Ben slid Dragon Claw out of Fang’s hilt, and ducked.

  Swish!

  He jabbed Dragon Claw in the gnoll’s belly, drawing a fearsome howl.

  The other gnolls and two lizard men froze, watching their comrade fall. A split second later, Ben ripped Fang out and charged his stupefied attackers.

  Fang’s blade cut the air with an angry howl. Its sharp blade cut the lizard men down in two strokes. A shadow closed in on Ben’s back with heavy feet. He launched Dragon Claw out of his hand and into the last gnoll’s chest. Down it went. Dead.

  Ben wiped the blood and sweat from his forehead with the back of his forearm. Fang, once cold in his hand, was getting hot. He shoved it back in the sheath, staggered across the grass and collected Dragon Claw. Its steel almost burned to the touch.

  “Mercy, Fang,” he said, stuffing it back into its hidden spot in the hilt. He blew on his hand. “But thanks.” He scanned the grass for his own sword and picked it up, turned and locked eyes on Brenwar. The dwarf was looking up. Ben lifted his head. Circling dragons were looking down.

  “Great Guzan.”

  The last two decades had toughened Bayzog up, but he still tried to avoid getting his robes dirty at all costs. That effort had failed him today. A gnoll snarled over him. Chomped its teeth. Raised its dagger with murder filling its eyes.

  Bayzog summoned his strength and swung the Elderwood Staff at its feet.

  It hopped over the staff in a single bound and landed by his head. Dropping to its knees, it pinned Bayzog to the ground by his neck and squeezed. Drool dripped from its mouth and the small bones rattled on its necklace.

  “You’ll make a fine prize, Wizard.”

  Bayzog clocked it in the head with his staff again, making a hollow bonk sound. The blow wouldn’t have hurt a squirrel.

  The gnoll sneered and laughed. The dagger rose over its head—Bayzog’s life flashed in his eyes. Sasha. His boys. In a flash, the blade came down.

  Chuk.

  The gnoll missed his ear by inches.

  “Not yet. No, no. Not yet,” it said, choking Bayzog until his face turned purple. “Don’t move.” A clawed fist punched him in the gut.

  “Oof!”

  The Elderwood Staff fell from his grip. The gnoll snatched it from the ground and let out a triumphant howl.

  “More pleasure busting your bones with your little staff until I break it on your head.”

  Bayzog held a shaking finger out. “Wait,” he croaked, sitting up and clutching his stomach.

  “Death cannot wait,” it said, swinging the Elderwood Staff to its full zenith.

  Bayzog forced out a word of power.

  “Gaarmahngee.”

  The Elderwood Staff flashed.

  The gnoll’s wolfish eyes widened. Pish! Its entire being incinerated. The staff fell through its dusty fragments and onto the ground. The wind took the rest of the gnoll specs away like ash.

  Bayzog crawled to his staff, used it like a cane and pushed himself up to his feet.

  “Would have been nice if Brenwar had seen that.”

  Whump! Whump!

  Bayzog jerked around, wincing.

  Ben and Brenwar stood back to back with a pair of grey scalers surrounding them.

  A shadow glided overhead.

  He didn’t want to look up, but he did.

  I can’t believe there are three of them.

  CHAPTER 32

  Nath grabbed an orc by the backs of its arms and slung it into two others. A lizard man popped up on his right, swinging a heavy iron blade. Nath caught the blade with his fingers and yanked it free of the lizard man’s grip. Its snake eyes widened, watching Nath slowly bend the blade in half like a piece of cheese.

  “If I can do that to steel, imagine what I can to do you,” Nath said, frowning.

  The lizard man looked left, then right. No one else was around. It backed away toward Jordak’s Bridge, turned, and ran.

  “And the smartest shall survive,” Nath said, scanning the area.

  He’d been fighting for minutes and it showed. The soldiers of Barnabus were heaps on the ground. Some groaned. Others crawled. Many were still like stones. He didn’t care. He’d had enough of them tormenting his friends.

  Nath jo
gged over to the barracks and camp of the soldiers of Barnabus and made a quick inspection. He checked all the small buildings and tents. No sign of his friends. He nodded.

  Good.

  He took a deep breath.

  And goodbye.

  He exhaled fire from his lungs. Instantly, the camp of Barnabus caught fire. Flames roared all around. The entire camp would be cinders within the hour.

  Nath pumped his fist and sprinted down the road.

  My friends better be fine.

  Foot and horse prints were plentiful and fresh in the mud. As best as Nath could tell, the soldiers didn’t have too much of a head start. He lengthened his stride and ran near the pace of a galloping horse, ignoring the nasty itch in his side.

  That should be better by now.

  He buried it in the back of his mind. He had friends to help. As he ran, he scanned the soft green edges of grass along the road.

  Maybe they doubled back.

  He and Brenwar had done that often in their days roaming Nalzambor alone together. It was effective in losing pursuers if you were smart and quick about it.

  One clawed foot after another, he splashed over the mud and slowed. He noticed the impression of Brenwar’s boot along the edge. A thrill went through him.

  He’s alive. That means they’re probably all alive.

  The soldiers were numerous, however. Two dozen and heavily armed, clearly pursuing. Nath wondered if his friends might split up and divide the forces. There was no sign of that and it made him wary.

  What is Brenwar doing?

  He picked up the pace. Ahead, the sun began to peek over the meadows. Wild flowers in bright colors popped out among the grasses. The wind whistled in his ears as he ran. Something troubled him inside. A nagging feeling in his neck. A tightening between his shoulders. He glanced toward the sky.

  Far away, a small flock of black birds circled like vultures. They dipped and dove in the sky. Nath ran harder. It was difficult to see what kind of birds they were in the bright sunlight. A half mile farther up the road, he could see the long necks and great wing spans.