The marshal knew this was only the first wave of the Marchio’s force, but still he felt a surge of satisfaction at the way their soldiers had met the ferocity of the initial assault. But then one of his aides called out a warning and any sense of optimism was instantly quashed.
‘Marshal Breton!’ the officer cried. ‘The second demon closes on the right.’
Switching his gaze back to their right flank Marshal Breton saw the massive shape of the second demon now closing on General Renucci’s lines. Unlike the first demon whose skin was like the fire-blackened bark of a pine tree, the dark flesh of this monster was covered in armour and in each fist it held a weapon like a huge flail, the heads of which were elemental blocks of iron, black and angular and attached to the handles by four feet of heavy chain.
In all his years Marshal Breton had never seen so large a demon and even from so far away he could sense the creature’s strength, strength that could smash its way through the walls of a castle. Above the clamour of battle he heard the faint horn call of equitatus and saw a unit of cavalry moving into position. General Renucci was going to try to stop the demon with a cavalry charge.
*
Knowing that they were running out of time Falco and Sidian raised the intensity of their attack and for the first time since it was born into the charnel world the demon knew what it meant to doubt. Lunging forwards it grappled Sidian and tried to drive one of its curving horns into the dragon’s neck but Falco stabbed the demon in the back of its leg and Sidian was able to pull free.
Turning quickly the demon swiped at Falco’s head. Its claws were like the tempered blades of a plough, and sparks flew from Falco’s helm, but then Sidian attacked again and the demon felt a searing pain as the dragon’s claws gouged four deep rills in the adamantine flesh of its back. Roaring in pain it struck out wildly. Falco blocked one attack with his sword and another with his shield. The demon tried for a third but Falco’s blade suddenly flared with energy, slicing off two of the demon’s fingers before cutting a deep gash in its thigh. The towering creature stumbled to its knees and Falco drove his blade into its chest with a thrust that grazed the demon’s heart.
Disbelief erupted in the demon’s mind even as it raged at the shame of its defeat. Roaring with ire it beat at Falco, its fists and claws clanging off his armour until Sidian struck it a blow so powerful that it snapped the horn from the right-hand-side of its head.
The heat went out of the demon’s gaze and it slumped insensible to the floor.
As the demon collapsed Falco withdrew his sword. He was trembling with adrenaline and his body ached from the blows that the demon had rained down upon him. The battle had barely begun and already he felt exhausted, but there was no time for them to rest as Sidian struck down several of the Sciritae that were now closing on them once again.
Falco glanced down at the demon lying before him. Dark blood oozed from its many wounds and the remaining fingers on its clawed hands gouged into the earth as it tried to cling to life, but it was dying. Falco raised his sword to finish it off, but was then forced to defend himself as two Kardakae came charging towards him. He killed the first and took a numbing blow to the thigh before killing the second, but many more were now closing on their position and they would soon be overwhelmed.
‘Sidian!’ he cried. ‘Get us out of here.’
Putting his back to Falco the dragon took a great breath then he opened his mouth and cleared the area in front of them with a sweeping burst of dragon fire. With Ferocian blades slicing the air behind him Falco leapt for Sidian’s back as the dragon charged forward and leapt into the air.
Screaming in demented rage the Possessed struck at the dragon’s legs as they rose higher into the sky but finally they were free and clear and with barely a moment’s hesitation Falco turned Sidian to the right where the second demon was now closing on General Renucci’s lines.
*
General Renucci felt sick with fear as he watched the demon advancing towards them. Even hunched forward the massive creature stood more than twelve feet tall, its entire body covered in heavily pitted armour. Its ridged helm was reminiscent of an executioner’s mask, its eyes glaring through the steel like the peepholes of a furnace. Beneath the mask the demon’s mouth was a grinding maw of jagged teeth and it bellowed with a noise that shook the general’s heart within his chest.
If they did not stop it the demon would smash his lines and the Possessed would burst through like water through a ruptured dyke. His only hope was to bring the monster down before it reached his lines, but even as the knights began their attack the general knew that they were doomed.
*
Falco looked down as General Renucci’s knights closed on the demon. They barely slowed as they ploughed through the intervening Sciritae, but for all the force of their charge, he knew it would not be enough. As he and Sidian streaked over the raging battle he saw the knights in the first rank of the squadron lower their lances and lean forward in the saddle. They were just two horse-lengths short of their target when the demon swung its flails.
The head of the first enormous weapon tore through the air and several of the knights in the first rank were simply dashed aside. Their ruptured bodies were thrown into the path of those beside them and the entire line went down in a mass of tumbling limbs and broken lances.
A few of the following knights managed to maintain their course and in a series of successful strikes, four lance points searched for a gap in the demon’s heavy armour. Three lances snapped and splintered, leaving barely a mark, but the fourth nicked the demon’s thick hide as the rider thundered past. The man experienced a moment of satisfaction before the demon spun with surprising speed and swung a flail at his mount’s rump. The horse screamed as its pelvis was shattered and the knight was spilled into a mass of Sciritae from which he did not emerge.
Twenty knights had begun the attack but now only five remained and these too would have died had a dark shape not come plummeting out of the sky. Even as it brought up its flails to crush the remaining knights Sidian slammed into the demon’s back. The force of the impact knocked the massive creature off balance and it stumbled forwards as Falco leapt clear.
Drawing his body into a tuck, Falco turned in the air before breaking his fall with a series of rolls that brought him up against the body of a dying horse. He caught a quick sense of the animal’s agony before he came to his feet and turned to face their next opponent. The demon was by far the largest he had ever seen and even Sidian’s powerful attack had not been enough to harm it. The dragon was clawing at its head and shoulders, but somehow the behemoth regained its balance with the dragon still clinging to its back.
With his claws hooked around the edges of the demon’s armour Sidian opened his mouth and the demon let out a roar as its helmeted head was engulfed in dragon fire. Following his example Falco sent a dense ball of flame slamming into the creature’s hip and again it staggered, but then it swung a flail over its left shoulder and Falco winced as the brutal weapon struck Sidian between his wings.
The dragon’s flames were suddenly extinguished and with a growl of pain he dropped from the demon’s back. The armoured ridges along his spine had saved Sidian from serious injury but Falco could sense the stiffness in his body as he reared backwards to avoid another attack that would surely have crushed his skull.
A third swing looked certain to make contact until Falco darted in to strike at the demon’s left leg with all his strength. It was like hitting a solid column of iron, and even the sword that Malaki had forged struggled to penetrate the demon’s hell-forged armour. Still it cut deep enough to inflict a wound and the demon felt a sharp burning pain as Falco’s blade bit into its thigh. Its flail missed Sidian and the demon turned its attention to the human that barely came up to its waist. Fuelled by eternal hatred it kicked out a steel rimmed hoof but Falco whirled to one side. It swung a flail to crush him, but again Falco was too quick and the head of the flail merely thumped into the earth.
The Possessed began to mass around the demon, as if they knew it would soon break through, and now they too began to attack. Falco stumbled as a Ferocian blade skipped off his helm. Spinning round he killed the Sciritae but the distraction cost him a moment of concentration and the head of a flail struck off the armour on his shoulder. It was only a glancing blow but still it bowled him over and left him feeling dazed.
Falco and Sidian now found themselves fighting inwards against the demon and outwards against the Possessed. There was no way they could defend against both, but fortunately there was one man on the battlefield who had seen what was happening and, from the corner of his vision, Falco saw the emissary leading a squadron of the Adamanti to their aid.
The Knights Adamant drove their charge deep into the Sciritae, but even that was not enough to stem the tide of Possessed now surrounding the demon. They would all have been overrun had General Renucci not done the unthinkable. Following the emissary’s lead he advanced his lines to enclose Falco and the demon.
At first this seemed like madness, but as the swordsmen of the Fourth Army pushed the Possessed back, Falco found that he and Sidian could concentrate more energy into their attacks. Sidian breathed out jets of fire while Falco took extra time to energise the bolts of force that he blasted into the demon’s body and finally their attacks began to wear it down.
Falco caught shadowy glimpses of the demon’s mind and beside the hatred and mounting frustration there was something akin to fear. The demon knew it was beaten and as its will began to waver so the substance of its mortal being grew weaker. Its dark flesh began to blister and burn beneath the relentless rake of Sidian’s fire and its heavy armour no longer seemed impenetrable. With each attack Falco’s bolts of magical force burned a little deeper, but now Falco could sense a new shadow forging its way into the valley. It was the shadow of an even greater Possessed army and with it came a demon whose power put all others in the shade.
The Marchio Dolor was coming and it was time to kill this demon and prepare to meet him.
Falco sheathed his sword and sent a surge of energy down into his clenched fist. He focussed the energy into a tight ball, ducked beneath another wild attack and sent it flying into the demon’s chest. The dense fireball did not explode on contact, rather it punched into the heavy armour on the demon’s chest and began to force its way in towards the creature’s heart.
It took all of Falco’s control to keep the ball of energy in place and he tried to drive it deeper even as he ducked and dodged from the demon’s unending attacks. Sidian also kept up his attacks, breathing fire and striking with his long tail. Falco’s teeth were clenched with effort and his face was beaded with sweat, but this battle was almost over. Just a few more moments and the fireball would burst inside the demon’s chest.
*
The Marchio Dolor was confused.
His dark angels had reported that only one Defiant accompanied the army from Amboss and yet two of the Faithful had already been overcome. One was lying mortally wounded while the other showed pitiful weakness in the face of its imminent defeat.
There was nothing the Marchio could do for the colossus with the two massive flails, but the other demon was not beyond help. It would require several souls from a Gaoler’s train but this demon could be brought back and made whole once more. Closing his eyes the Marchio sent his mind into the netherworld and summoned forth one of the gaolers that he had called back to join him. The gaoler in question had several strong souls upon its belt. More than enough to bring the injured demon back to full health.
Even as he moved into the valley between the three hills the Marchio opened up a rift and gated the Gaoler forward. He waited until his mind’s eye saw the white demon emerge on the field of battle and then he turned his thoughts back to the Defiant who stood in his path. The Defiant who stood with a sable wyrm at his side. He had never killed a black wyrm before and he relished the prospect of destroying the strongest of its kind.
And as for the Defiant...
The man’s faith was only matched by the love he felt for the humans who fought beside him. There would be some satisfaction in killing such a Defiant but the Marchio wondered if it might be possible to claim his soul.
His mind now burning with anticipation, the Marchio Dolor led his army into the Valley of The Three Brethren.
*
In truth it had not been very long, but Alex Klingemann felt as if the battle had been raging for hours. The heat radiating from the Possessed was terrifying and the stench of their rotting flesh made him gag but Alex tried to focus on the fighting as the Exiles fought to hold their ground. All along the front line the fighting was the same, but the intensity of that first assault had abated and Alex began to feel as if the battle was turning in their favour. He heard a shout from behind him and at the next opportunity he stepped back, allowing the man to push forward to take his place. With such relentless fighting it was important to rotate the front ranks and the Exiles had this difficult manoeuvre down to a fine art.
Grateful for a brief reprieve he took a moment to cast his eye over the battlefield.
From somewhere close by, he saw a cloud of arrows shooting down the line as the Dalwhinnies did their best to support the troops on the front line. It was dangerous to bring a unit of archers so close to the fighting but Bryna had found an area of raised ground and was using the height to get a better angle for shooting at the Possessed.
There were still thousands of Sciritae in front of them, but the ranks of the enemy were definitely thinning and Alex felt a sense of elation at the thought that they might win, but then he looked to the far end of the valley where a new band of shadow now stretched across the horizon. They had weathered the first wave of darkness but a greater storm was about to break upon them.
Any sense of joy was suddenly quashed and Alex was about to re-enter the fray when something caught his eye. It was a shimmering rift, like a folded shadow in the air, half way between the front line and the body of the first demon that Falco had defeated. Then, even as he watched, a new demon emerged from the rift and stared in contempt at the humans who battled before it.
It stood for a moment, but instead of attacking it turned towards the demon that was lying close to death on the field. Trailing behind it were a number of grisly bundles, each attached to a metal belt around the demon’s waist by a long length of chain. The horrific bundles fanned out like the trailing skirt of a gown. They bumped and rolled over the ground, the chain bags snagging on stones and leaving a trail of blood in the earth.
Alex barely noticed the sudden squall of fear that surged towards him from the demon. Suddenly the fighting that raged before him seemed to recede in his mind. The one thought that eclipsed all others was that this demon was white.
Without any conscious thought Alex Klingemann pushed his way back to the front of the Exiles. There was a manoeuvre that infantry used when they needed to push forward with all the strength they could muster. The manoeuvre was known as ‘full force’ but Alex gave the order in the language of Illicia.
‘Volle Macht!’ he cried and with barely a moment’s hesitation the Exiles drove forward.
‘Volle Macht!’ he cried again and the Exiles pushed clear of the defending line of battle.
They did no
t know why their young commander had ordered them to advance beyond the safety of their lines, but they followed him all the same and soon they were fighting their way through a horde of Sciritae. As they progressed they fell into a defensive square as Alex led them directly towards the retreating demon.
Beside them the shield and spear units on either side started to match their advance and suddenly the entire line of battle was thrown into confusion.
A little way back from the front line Lanista Magnus watched as the Exiles moved out of position.
‘What the hell is he doing?’ asked the veteran trainer.
‘He’s going to break the entire line!’ replied another commander beside him.
And it was true. Just when it looked like the tide of battle was turning against the Possessed, one impetuous commander had thrown their defensive line into chaos.
‘Sound the order to stand fast and consolidate,’ snapped the commander and the signalmen behind him sounded their horns.
With no small measure of confusion the sword and spear units struggled to reform the line, but the Possessed pushed forward and the Exiles were suddenly cut off. For a moment it looked like they would be surrounded on all sides but then another unit moved out from the lines to cover their right flank.
‘Fates curse it!’ snapped the commander. ‘Now the Dalwhinnies are out of position too.’
For a moment Lanista Magnus frowned at this uncharacteristic display of tactical stupidity. But then his gaze moved out to the new demon that had suddenly appeared on the field and he remembered what Malaki had said after the tragic attempt to save the refugees in the ravine. Malaki had said the demon that took Quirren was white.
*
When she first saw him leading the Exiles out from the front line Bryna thought Alex had lost his mind, but then she too noticed the colour of the demon that had suddenly appeared on the battlefield. And she also noticed the pitiful bags of humanity that bumped and dragged along behind it.
Battle Mage Page 89
