Unlike the other archers, the leader showed skill in close combat. With calculated movements, she swept the first Paladin’s leg out from underneath him, grabbing him under the helmet by his throat. Nero caught her by the waist and heaved her into the wall. She took the hit and rebounded at him, but he lifted his shield, slamming it into her face to disorient her. Despite what skill she showed, a steel plate to the head took the fight out of her.
From the other side of the rampart, he heard his brothers cry out. Keeping the archer pinned with his shield, he looked left to assess the situation and his stomach fell.
Fifty feet away, tearing into the group of Paladins, the teal-haired Darkling with the spear appeared. Nero did not see from where she had come. Seeing a chance to distract her, Nero dropped his shield and grabbed the archer by her throat. Yanking her forward, Nero leaned her out over the edge of the rampart. The archer fumbled at his arm without coordination, the sting of his shield blow still messing with her functions. As Nero lifted her off the ground, the archer abandoned her attempts to break his grip and reached out toward the teal-haired warrior.
Nero heard the warrior scream as the archer in his grip called out to her. Making sure the warrior could see him, Nero rammed the blade of his sword through the archer’s chest and twisted it to the side. Nero soaked up the agony twisting up the teal-haired warrior’s face. She screamed for her comrade, ignoring the Paladins closing in about her, and then her black eyes met his gaze. He could feel the heat from her in those eyes and he smiled as he pulled his sword free and dropped the archer off the side of the fort walls to the ground below.
“For Delta,” Nero rumbled through contorted lips.
The warrior abandoned her fight on the rampart to come straight for him. Nero’s left hand found his hammer on the ground. With his sword in his right, he clanged the weapons together and braced for her attack.
“Come on,” he howled. “This time I won’t go down so easily. This time I’m not afraid.”
All around Nero, his Paladins overwhelmed the hasty defense of the Greimere. The warrior had nowhere to flee after this fight, even if she beat him. Vengeance carried his heart, however; and he felt the power of Triumph’s Light coursing through him. The warrior had terrified him at their first meeting and the fear remained, but his training and faith pushed it down deep.
This time he would not falter. He would triumph over her or die a Paladin’s death.
Sudden movement behind him caught his attention. He moved to counter the attack. The warrior seemed as surprised as he was when a cloaked figure appeared from the shimmering ether and wrapped its shadowy arms around her. The warrior wailed and screamed as they both disappeared.
Nero cast about, certain the warrior had used some deviant magic to take him off guard. As the battle continued to rage around him, Nero realized the warrior would not be reappearing. She had fled, though by what means he could not figure out.
“Nero! Victory!” He turned to see his brothers lifting their hammers as they cried out. Below, the remaining defenders threw down their weapons. Two of the Darklings huddled over the corpse of the lead archer.
Deeper in the fort, a gravelly roar erupted. Nero regrouped his men then headed in to finish the battle for Fort Augustus.
Chapter 25
Zurek barely heard the commotion outside with his smelter running at full heat. Something about the shouts troubled him though, so he checked his ore and left to see what lunacy had gripped the Greimere while Grass-Hair was away.
Through an alley, Zurek saw men in shiny plate armor moving in a tight group. For a brief moment he tried to force his brain to un-see the Sabans cutting down a young Urufen as he tried to get past them. Surely this had to be an illusion; perhaps his smelting chamber had not been properly vented and the fumes had done something to his head.
Shouts of pain and clashes of steel reassured him, however. Rellizbix had infiltrated the fort.
Zurek did not take the time to shut down his smelter. He did not grab anything from inside his shop. He did not look for a weapon. He just ran.
The entrance to the fort lay not too far from his smelting chamber. He could take cover in one of the buildings. If worse came to worse, perhaps the soldiers would hesitate upon seeing a Rung’un for long enough for him to escape or surrender.
“I’m not a fighter. These people are. They’ll be fine.” Zurek whispered to himself, convincing the nagging voices in his head he was doing the right thing.
A flash of silver made him drop to the ground and roll behind a wall. Two soldiers approached the building Kimura and her Naga had claimed after the Greimere took ownership of Fort Augustus. With a strong kick, one man broke through the door and they charged inside. In the same instant, Zurek heard fighting, but through the sounds of two sides trying to kill each other, he heard something that chilled his bones—a tiny voice shrieked and cried.
Makata is in there with Goji. Zurek wanted to move. The entrance was two more buildings away. He could get free of the slaughter. But he could not move from his spot, listening to the sounds inside the house. He feared what the men would do to the little Lokai girl.
In less than a minute, the sounds died out and the building went silent. After another moment of waiting for the men to exit the building, Zurek stole away to the front, praying to the Fates no others would see him.
Inside, two Sabans lay dead on the ground. Further from them, leaving a carpet of blood behind him as he crawled, Goji reached out for his terrified daughter.
“Goji, hang on,” Zurek said, rushing to him. “Let me take a look...”
Zurek faltered as he took in the nature of Goji’s injury. He had not noticed the Lokai’s innards trailing behind him as he crawled. Goji had nearly been cleaved in half during the fight and his right arm was shattered and limp. Blood dripped from his lips as he whispered to his daughter.
Zurek wanted to say something to comfort the man as he died, but the words would not come. Instead, he stood there, frozen, as the Lokai strained and failed to reach his daughter’s outstretched hand. Goji exhaled and grew still. Makata slowly withdrew her hand and looked up at him. She tried to speak, but all that came out was a slow, aching whine as she trembled.
Zurek broke free from his paralysis and reached down for Makata. “Come on, little one. We have to go.”
As he lifted her up, he noticed something shiny in Goji’s hand. He saw Goji had a kunai, handle outward.
He was trying to give Makata a weapon when he died.
Zurek snatched the Kunai up and fled the building, racing for the entrance. Adrenaline fueled his legs and the walls of the fort flew past him. He did not creep forward, watching for passing Sabans; he made for the exit as quickly as he could.
Breaking free from the fort, he found dozens of Gimlets who were escaping in a frenzy, along with a spattering of Lokai and Urufen artisans and other Greimere who were not fit for combat.
One Lokai approached him and took Makata, asking something in a frantic tone. Her words came out too fast for Zurek to translate.
“I… I don’t understand. What are you talking about?” he asked. “What other children?”
“Tamyth…” He recognized that name. Tamyth was Rathgar woman. She had pink hair and was particularly waif-like for her kind. She wasn’t a warrior. Indie had once said something about her serving lords in the Citadel in their homeland. Now she mainly took care of the war orphans.
Zurek realized what the Lokai woman was asking. He had come out with Makata; she was asking if any of the other children had made it out.
Another older Rathgar approached. “You are the smith from these lands, yes? Please, did you see Tamyth and the children?”
“I didn’t see anyone else.”
The old Rathgar wringed her hands. “These are your people, yes? Will they… spare children?”
Zurek hesitated. He remembered how people talked about the Greimere in his homeland. The Sabans and Faeir did not consider the Greimere people.
He thought back to that young Urufen the soldiers cut down without slowing. He was barely a teenager, else he would have been armed and with the other defenders. He wasn’t even a threat; he was fleeing.
“I don’t think they would hurt the little ones,” Zurek lied. The old Rathgar saw it in his face. Her eyes moistened and she turned, shaking, to join the others escaping the fort. The Lokai still chattered at him in words he could not decipher, even as she pulled away from him.
Makata stared at him as the woman carried her away. The kunai looked heavy gripped in her tiny hand. Zurek turned back toward the gates of the fort.
“I’m not a fighter. Someone will find them and help; I’m sure of it. These aren’t even my people.”
Zurek looked away and began down the hill to join the others.
“Fuck!” he screamed and spun around, propelling himself forward on shaky legs.
The walls of the fort felt as if they might fall in around him as Zurek entered the fort and made for the west wall. I don’t even know where I’m going. Wait – yes I do. The orphanage is off the side of the eatery. They help serve the food. I should not be doing this.
Zurek slowed when he heard fighting in front of him. He moved slowly around a corner, seeing two Blade Dancers facing off against two soldiers. The orphanage was just beyond. The soldiers closed on the warriors, overwhelming them as Zurek looked on from cover. Zurek took advantage of the clash to bolt from cover and race to the orphanage.
“Tamyth, are you in there?” he yelled, banging on the door and praying the warriors could hold off the soldiers long enough for him to get to the children. “Tamyth, it’s Zurek. Let me in.”
The door opened and Zurek fell inside. Immediately he was met with a dagger and the fierce, lavender eyes of a young Rathgar girl no older than twelve.
“That’s enough, Belathid. He’s one of us.” Tamyth eased the girl off him and helped him up. “What’s happening out there? It sounds like war.”
“Rellizbix got in somehow,” he told Tamyth as he looked around at the terrified children of different ages. “They’re taking the fort. Is anyone else here? Anyone who can fight?”
“I can fight,” growled the girl.
Tamyth put up her hand toward the girl and looked at Zurek. “Belathid is not even woman, yet. None of the warriors have come to our aid; just you. Can you fight?”
“No,” Zurek moaned, putting his hands to his head as the realization of what he’s done threatened to crush him. “Can you? I thought all Rathgar fought.”
Tamyth clenched her jaw. “I grew up serving the Imperial family of the Greimere. I care for motherless children now. This is where I could do the most good; not on the battlefield. What is your excuse?”
“I am a ninety-pound Rung’un. That’s my excuse.”
“Grass-Hair is like you and he is Warlord of the Greimere,” Belathid cut in.
Zurek whirled on her. “Grass-Hair is a fucking Caelum! He has the blood of kings in his veins and the power of a god in his fists. If he were here, I wouldn’t be worried.”
“Zurek, how close is the fighting?” Tamyth asked, getting between the two. “How long do we have?”
The front door of the orphanage shuddered and a Saban voice swore as the soldier on the other side struggled to open it.
“Oh shit.” Zurek meant to back away from the door, but as the children backed against the wall, he found himself stepping forward.
The door smashed open and a single soldier in brilliant armor stormed in and looked about. His eyes first landed on Tamyth and he readied his shield. Then he caught sight of Zurek standing in front of all the inhabitants. He paused to cast about before meeting Zurek’s gaze.
“Who the hell are you?” the soldier asked, never losing his attack stance.
Zurek felt awkward as he used his native language to someone other than Ariadne. “Please, soldier. There are no warriors here; just children.”
“Are you a prisoner… or a turncoat?” The soldier stepped forward, aiming his intentions toward Tamyth. “Whatever the case, Judge Leyhea will decide what to make of you. Now stand aside.”
“Please, you don’t need to do this.” Zurek held his hands up and tried to still his trembling legs. “They’re just children. They can’t fight back.”
The soldier moved unbelievably quick. In the next instant, he closed the gap and slammed the pommel of his sword into Zurek’s head.
His shaky legs buckled under him and Zurek fell to the floor in a heap as the world around him spun. He heard a cry and everything around him moved in a blur. He tried to get up, but a small body slammed into him and dropped limp at his side.
Fates, no! Heat filled Zurek as the voices of the children shrieked in fear and tiny feet scrambled over the floor, desperate to escape the wrath of the Saban’s blade. Zurek’s vision had not yet returned to him but the bright sheen of the soldier’s armor distinguished his blurry blob from the others.
Zurek pushed off the ground and dove for the man. He knew he couldn’t stop a trained soldier in armor; no one there could. The soldier would overcome him, kill him, and then go back to his slaughter. But Zurek could hurt him. He could leave such a mark on the soldier that for the rest of the man’s life, he would be unable to forget this moment.
As Zurek landed on the man’s back, his right hand dropped to the man’s waist and found the head of a hammer. Zurek was shit with a sword and spear, but his smithing hands knew what to do with a hammer. Zurek pulled it free and aimed for where he gauged the man’s head to be. Then the head bucked backward, smashing Zurek’s face. The hammer dropped from his fingers and Zurek scrambled to get both arms around the man’s neck to keep from falling. He could not see anything now.
Then something hit the front of him. Or did it hit the front of the soldier? They both tumbled backward and the armored Saban crushed the air from Zurek’s lungs. Still Zurek clung to him, even as more weight dropped over the top of him. Zurek struggled to draw air back into his lungs and a frenzied cry filled his ears, followed by the clang of pounded steel.
Zurek’s senses exploded with each thunderous slam on the top of him. He gasped for air and panicked as the crack of bone followed a strike and warm, sticky fluid gushed across his face and down his neck. Was he dying? Is this what it felt like?
“Belathid, enough. Get off.”
Suddenly the weight on him lightened and he clawed his way out from under the armor. Soft hands gripped him and pulled him into a feminine body. “Calm down. You’re okay. Someone see to Belathid.”
Zurek wiped the blood from his face and his vision cleared enough to make out the corpse of the soldier on the ground. His helmet had dented into his face, crushing his skull. To his side, two younger children steadied a gore-drenched Belathid. She gripped the soldier’s hammer in both hands and shuddered as she stared at the dead man.
“What happened?” Zurek coughed, trying to catch his breath.
“You pulled him to his back,” Tamyth replied. “Well, I kind of shoved him a little. I was going to try for the door and shove kids out of it. He had hit Belathid; I thought she was dead, but then she was up and had that hammer.”
“Is she going to be okay? We need to move… now.” Zurek got up and looked around. None of the children were dead. The limp body that hit him must have been Belathid.
He went to the girl and pulled her to her feet. He reached to take the hammer from her, but she pulled it to her chest and stared at him with wide, frenzied eyes. Zurek held up his hands in submission. “Okay. You keep it. But we have to go.”
“I don’t want to do that again,” Belathid whimpered through chattering teeth.
“Yeah, me neither.” He guided her toward the door as Tamyth gathered the children and carried two of them. Zurek took another on his back as they left the building.
Zurek backtracked, taking them back toward the entrance of the fort. Along the way he noticed the two warriors had managed to kill or at least wound one of the soldiers, as the Saban lay un
conscious in the shade of a building.
As they neared the entrance, Zurek heard Rellizbix voices and called the group to a halt. Letting the child off his shoulders, he crept forward enough to catch sight of half a dozen soldiers regrouping between them and the gate.
Cursing and on the verge of tears, Zurek made his way back to Tamyth.
“They’re blocking the way out. We’re trapped.”
Tamyth gripped him by the shoulders and stared hard into his eyes. “You saw what I did back there. They will kill the children. We have to find another way out.”
Zurek took a long, unsteady breath and nodded his head. He could have been free of all this madness retreating into the woods and safety.
If he had done that, Tamyth, Belathid and a dozen more children would be dead.
He put the small child up on his back and their group turned around, heading back from where they came and away from the main gate of the fort.
Chapter 26
Raegith and the others saw the plumes of smoke for miles before the fort came into view. He already knew what lay ahead; his scouts had reported back to him hours before. As he walked, he prepared himself for the carnage that awaited him once he stepped through that gate. He had walked up on the carnage of Rellizbix before. How many would be on spikes? How many bodies would lay defiled in the sun?
Kimura and the Urufen with her had not returned to the group.
The war party trekked through the Wilderness through the night and into the next day, reaching the fort in the early morning. They did not rest. Even as they reached exhaustion, the thought of loved ones drove them onward through the night. As they neared the front gates of Fort Augustus, many broke ranks and sprinted forward to see what lay inside.
The screams from those initial warriors spurred the others. Soon men and women flooded through the stone doorway. Blood and burning flesh stung Raegith’s nostrils. He let the others enter first, waiting until the way had cleared before entering his home. He soaked up every scream; every frantic Greimere clawing their way through the entry. He caused this. He left his home defenseless in order to take a bridge and press the attack on Rellizbix.
Wrath of the Greimere (Hell Cliffs Book 2) Page 19
