As the demon came closer Major Dahler gave the order to loose and the demon hunched forward as a storm of arrows converged on its unearthly form. Shafts snapped and sharp points skipped off its armour but a few of the energised points managed to pierce the Slayer’s charred skin. Dark blood bubbled and hissed from a dozen shallow wounds and Lysander looked down in satisfaction.
First blood went to the men of Hoffen.
The Slayer sensed their satisfaction and its eyes narrowed to livid slits as it resumed its advance. The pace of its strides was growing quicker as the archers raised their bows once more, but the Slayer did not allow them a second attack. With a sweep of a blade it sent an arc of brimstone screaming towards the battlements. The hellish attack tore through the crenulated walls and more than a dozen defenders were killed. As the rest the archers dived for cover the demon began to run, surging up the slope towards the tunnel that led through the walls of the city.
‘Brace for charge!’ cried Lysander, but hardly had he spoken when the battlements shook as the Slayer struck the gates.
The gates of Hoffen were more than a foot thick and bound in iron. They buckled, and cracks appeared in the wooden beams holding them shut, but they withstood the Slayer’s initial charge.
A terrifying roar echoed off the surrounding buildings as the Slayer voiced its frustration but then it began its assault in earnest, the heat of its rage steadily growing until the wood began to smoulder and the wrought iron bands glowed red with heat. The Slayer’s blades took great chucks out of the doors, hacking through both timber and iron. The kicks from its hooves were like the blows of a battering ram until, with terrifying brutality, it literally tore the gates of Hoffen apart.
Its final assault was delivered with an explosive burst of energy and the soldiers in the courtyard recoiled as the doors were blasted open. Splinters of wood and fragments of glowing iron flew through the air and several foot soldiers were struck down while others ducked behind their shields. This was an opponent that they could not hope to face.
In the midst of this storm stood Feurig, and as the air cleared the dragon raised its head to look at the Slayer. Like a murderous shadow the demon stood in the darkness of the tunnel. Even its outline looked sinister and its eyes glowed with a fierce red light as it suddenly charged forward.
From above the gate Lysander watched as the Slayer burst from the tunnel, blades swinging as it came in for the kill. Feurig met its advance with a blast of dragon fire, but the demon was protected by its reborn faith. Forging its way through the fiery torrent it struck at the dragon and Feurig might well have been killed if Lysander had not attacked from above.
A bolt of blue energy punched into the demon’s shoulder and it spun round as Lysander limped down into the courtyard. Once again the Slayer was facing two powerful opponents but they were both hampered by injury and both were about to die.
It was only by protecting each other that Lysander and Feurig were able to survive even the first flurry of attacks. As soon as the Slayer closed on one, the other would attack it from behind, but they were growing weaker with each exchange and it would only be a matter of time before the Slayer drove one of its attacks home.
Even now Lysander was defending desperately as the Slayer forced him backwards. As he retreated so Feurig lunged in to strike at the demon’s back. The Slayer immediately spun to attack him and the dragon tried to withdraw but his injured leg gave way leaving his neck exposed to the Slayer’s curved swords. Twisting aside, the dragon managed to avoid one scything blade but then the demon reversed the attack and struck him a powerful blow with the mace-like pommel of its sword. The blow caught Feurig on the side of the head and the mighty dragon was struck senseless. He collapsed to the ground and would have died had Lysander not thrown himself forward to engage the Slayer.
The battle mage sent a bolt of energy into the Slayer’s side then ducked beneath a sweeping attack that would have removed his head. He thrust his sword towards a gap in the demon’s armour but his own injured leg would not bear the weight of his lunge. He stumbled and almost fell, but even before he hit the ground the Slayer kicked him in the face with a massive black hoof. A moment of fortification saved his face from being smashed to a pulp but even so, Lysander was thrown onto his back, spitting blood as his vision became crowded with darkness. Stunned and barely conscious he looked up as the demon loomed over him.
The Slayer flexed its arms and rolled its head as both its opponents were subdued. With the Defiant hovering on the edge of consciousness the cloak of his protection faded away leaving Major Dahler and the soldiers exposed to the full force of the demon’s presence. To a man, the will went out of them, their courage shrivelling up like a naked heart in the embers of a fire. They were lost, and soon the Slayer would claim them, but first it would end the two ‘great souls’ that it had just defeated. With an air of consummation it approached the Defiant who lay dazed and helpless on the ground.
Lysander Müller looked into the burning eyes of the Slayer and saw the great curved sword rise up like an executioner’s axe. Even as it began to fall he spat his defiance into the mind of the Slayer. As if from a great distance he heard the whine of a sword whistling through the air, but instead of pain and cleaving death he heard the crackling buzz of metal striking magical force.
Struggling to remain conscious Lysander saw a great black shape falling upon them. He knew it could only be the shadow of death and yet somehow it felt like the dark hand of deliverance.
*
Through Sidian’s superior vision Falco saw the blur of arrows as the Slayer moved up the sloping approach to Hoffen. He saw the gate towers destroyed by a burning arc of hellstone and then he saw the Slayer disappear into the tunnel that ran through the thick defensive wall. Still a mile from the city he heard a crunching boom as the Slayer broke through into the city. Then, as his vision returned to the perspective of his own eyes, he saw flashes of fire beyond the ruin of Hoffen’s gates.
The Slayer had breached the walls and his murderous work had begun.
The prospect of failure drove all thoughts of fear from Falco’s mind. Beyond the walls two great souls were doing battle with darkness. After flying through the night Falco could not bear to think that they had now arrived too late. There was no need to convey his anxiety to Sidian. The dragon’s fears were the same. He could feel one of his own kind struggling beyond the walls, standing together with the mirror of its soul.
With a great surge of effort Sidian ignored the pain of his tired muscles and forced them on through the unforgiving air. As they neared the city he raised the angle of their flight so that they could descend more sharply into the space behind the walls, the space where their brothers were now so close to death.
*
Time stretched into a sublime moment of devotion. The Slayer offered up a prayer of offering as it raised one of its huge blades high above its head. Even now the Defiant stared up at him with fire in his fading gaze. The man’s strength infuriated the Slayer and it pressed even more energy into the power of its strike. The sword whistled down and the Slayer wished that the moment of victory could last forever, but then the blade struck a wall of invisible force. The impact sent a shock wave up the Slayer’s arm and he bellowed in pain as the sinew of his mortal flesh was strained to breaking point. Surely the Defiant was too far gone to produce so strong a shield.
The brief confusion lasted only an instant as the Slayer sensed another presence falling from the sky. He looked up to see a black wyrm plummeting towards him, and on its back the accursed brightness of another Defiant. From the wyrm’s mouth came a stream of dragon fire, hotter than any the Slayer had felt before. The fierce flames blinded the demon. It lashed out wildly but then it felt the wyrm’s talons clamp around its shoulder.
As the dragon came down it turned in the air, spilling the rider from its back and launching the Slayer across the courtyard. The demon smashed into the stables, snapping timbers and demolishing the stone-built walls, whi
le the dragon crashed down into the courtyard. Its rider attempted to control his fall but their descent had been reckless and headlong, with little thought for what might happen at the moment of impact.
Foot knights and spearmen were scattered and Lysander languished in stunned disbelief as the new combatants found their feet.
*
Falco landed heavily as he was thrown from Sidian’s back. There had been no time to plan their attack, no time to think about anything else except deflecting the Slayer’s blade. Reaching out with his mind, Falco had blocked the demon’s strike, maintaining the shield as Sidian covered the demon in fire. The great black dragon had caught hold of the Slayer and used his momentum to literally throw the demon across the courtyard. In the same instant they all crashed to the ground. In the next, they all rose to their feet.
Still clutching its blades the Slayer pushed aside rubble and fallen beams as it stepped out of the ruined stables. At the opposite side of the courtyard Sidian had regained his feet after reducing a hay cart to matchwood, while across the way Falco had slammed into the side of a building. Such a collision should have resulted in broken bones, but Falco had suffused his body with protective energy and felt merely stiff and bruised as he got to his feet and turned to face the Slayer.
*
Regaining the courtyard the Slayer’s eyes burned as it looked upon these new opponents. The wyrm’s strength was patently clear, but the reserves of this new Defiant were not so easy to fathom. The Slayer paused...
Had they met before?
The demon had the strangest feeling that they had. And then, slowly, recognition began to dawn. Could it be? Was this the child who had opposed it before the female Defiant had forced it from the world?
The Slayer looked at the armoured figure standing before it. The appearance was different but the stench of its aura was the same. And yet not. The last time they had met this Defiant had been all raw emotion and damaged potential. Now it radiated a force of presence that the Slayer had never thought to encounter in the charnel world. Here was a soul that had survived the fires of grief and guilt, of doubt and despair. The Slayer tried to reconcile the boy it had almost killed with the man who now stood before it. A thousand years might have passed and still they would not account for the change in this Defiant’s will.
The Slayer’s eyes narrowed in satisfaction. Here then were two adversaries that might test the metal of its hell-forged blades. The demon relished the prospect of such a fight, confident in its own infernal strength. It had not the slightest doubt that it would win.
Until the Defiant drew his sword.
*
Falco felt the full force of its gaze as the Slayer stepped out from the ruins of the stable. The demon moved with self assured power and its confidence was terrifying. Feeling suitably intimidated Falco shrugged his shield from its shoulder strap and settled it on his arm. He felt daunted, inadequate and completely over matched.
Until he drew his sword.
The Slayer’s blades had been forged by the Enlightened and tempered in the fires of hell, but Falco’s sword rang with the silent note of friendship, loss and love.
Finally comprehending the true danger of its adversary, the Slayer levelled its curving blades and attacked.
Although he was ready for it, the speed of the Slayer’s attack took Falco by surprise with savage blows to head, body, neck and groin. Even his academy training was not enough and it was only by instinct that Falco was able to block and parry the lethal blur of steel. As the demon pressed forward he gave ground, retreating rapidly until he was pressed back against a wall.
With Falco’s movement now restricted the Slayer pressed home its advantage, but Falco took one strike on his shield and ducked beneath a second. The Slayer’s blade gouged into the stone wall behind him and Falco took the opportunity to slip free, but the Slayer yanked its blade free and whirled to meet him.
Around the courtyard foot knights and spearmen emerged from their stupor and struggled to drag their comrades clear of the fighting. They had managed to pull Lysander out of danger while Sidian had pulled the insensible Feurig clear of the fray.
Meanwhile Falco danced and weaved as the Slayer tried to cut him down. Over the last year his skill had reached its full potential but even this was not enough to evade the whirling blades of the Slayer and on several occasions it was only fortification and the quality of his armour that prevented a severed limb or neck. Memories of their previous encounter came flooding back and Falco suddenly realised that he could not win. At least he could not win alone.
Unleashing yet another lethal barrage of attacks the Slayer suddenly stumbled as something heavy struck it from behind. Having dragged Feurig clear Sidian now joined the fight. The talons of his right paw inflicted three parallel cuts to the back of the Slayer’s leg, but then the black dragon was forced to rear back, flapping his wings as the demon whipped round, its curved blades slicing at the dragon’s chest.
Trying to take advantage of the distraction, Falco lunged forwards to attack but he was forced to dodge aside as the Slayer wheeled about once more. It seemed impossible to find an opening in the demon’s guard and it was only a matter of time before one of those great curving blades found its mark.
Sidian attacked again, his talons making a horrible sound as they screeched off the Slayer’s armour. Kicking Falco in the thigh the Slayer spun round and Sidian let out a roar as he took a glancing blow on his left foreleg. Shards of dragon scales flew across the courtyard and deep red blood spattered down upon the cobblestones as the Slayer turned back to his human opponent, but this time Falco infused his sword with searing energy and then let it fly in an arc of incandescent light. This was an attack that the Slayer could not block and the arc of energy burned a glowing line of damage in its armour and blackened skin alike.
The attack sent the demon into a frenzy and Falco was driven onto the defensive once more. Sidian tried to attack from the rear but the Slayer seemed to anticipate the move and with blinding speed it turned its violence upon the dragon. Despite facing two opponents it was the Slayer that maintained the initiative and Falco tasted blood as one of the Slayer’s blades slammed into the side of his helm. Fortification saved him from critical harm but still the attack left him momentarily dazed. A follow up attack might have proven more serious had Sidian not caught the demon’s arm in his jaws even as it was about to strike.
Fire burst from the dragon’s mouth and the Slayer roared as its arm burned while still locked in the dragon’s teeth. Wrenching its arm down it stabbed at the dragon’s neck with its other blade and Sidian had no choice but to relinquish his hold. The dragon tried to back away but the Slayer lashed out once more. Sidian avoided one attack and jerked his body back from another but then a third blow whipped towards his head and he was not quick enough to avoid it. He managed to turn his head away from the cut but even so the Slayer’s blade drew a nasty gash across his face.
Sidian blinked through a film of blood as the Slayer loomed once more but then Falco struck it a heavy blow across its back. Protected by its armour the Slayer turned back to kill the Defiant once and for all but its intentions were foiled as Falco unleashed a fireball that struck the slayer full in the face. The demon snarled and struck out wildly but finally Falco and Sidian were learning how to fight together.
As Falco brought up his shield and parried a blow, so Sidian attacked once more. He delivered a claw-strike to the demon’s legs before leaping back from a vicious counterattack as the Slayer’s tried to open the dragon’s chest.
Falco was beginning to tire and his chest burned with the exertion of the fight. Knowing he could not sustain this level of exertion for much longer he began to pour energy into the cold steel of his sword.
Even as the Slayer turned back towards him he continued to imbue his sword with all the power he could muster. He blocked with his shield and dodged the demon’s blows as best he could, knowing his fortification would be diminished while he focussed so muc
h power into Malaki’s blade. An ordinary sword could never have contained so much energy. Even another battle mage’s blade could not have withstood so much, but Falco’s sword had been tempered with the heat of not one, but two battle mages. and so it could withstand the forces now building within it.
*
Across the courtyard Lysander Müller frowned through the haze of his concussion as he sensed the energy building in the young warrior’s sword. Never before had he heard such a note in a battle mage’s blade. It was both beautiful and terrifying and he wondered at the soul that could conjure such a concentration of magical force.
To his blurred vision the fight had been like some titanic struggle between legends of old. There was the black dragon, the demonic whirlwind and the dark warrior, apparently vulnerable in his youth and naivety. But as the fight wore on Lysander realised that this battle mage was anything but weak. He was simply inexperienced and as the fog of injury began to clear he realised that this was the first time these two great souls had fought together. The timing of their attacks was clumsy and uncoordinated, but they were learning fast.
A combination of luck and natural talent had saved them from the Slayer’s blades thus far, but now he could see that they were tiring. Adrenaline and exertion were taking their toll and it would not be long before the Slayer’s blades ended the fight. But now the young battle mage was raising the stakes.
Focussing so much energy into his blade meant reducing his fortification and there were several times when he was only saved by the quality of his dark armour, but finally the note in his sword passed into a kind of silence. Then, just at that very moment, the young battle mage dropped his guard. Maybe it was an error of judgement or maybe it was simply exhaustion, but either way it was a fatal mistake and the Slayer was quick to take advantage. With frightening speed the Slayer’s curved blade stabbed towards the battle mage’s throat.
Battle Mage Page 77
