Warhammer - Knight Errant

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Warhammer - Knight Errant Page 30

by Anthony Reynolds


  Anara's voice w as getting louder, and he heard a peal of thunder roll across the heavens. Heavy droplets of rain began to fall, just a few at first, and then more, until the skies erupted in a torrential downpour.

  The rain made it hard to see, and it seeped inside Calard's armour, soaking the padding beneath and w eighing him dow n, but he pushed aside these minor concerns.

  On they rode, kicking their tired steeds forward. Desperation and panic was growing w ithin Calard.

  As lightning flashed, they saw a flood of black figures racing tow ards the castle, streaming through the shattered gatehouse into the courtyard beyond, and Calard gave a cry of despair, kicking his steed on with renewed vigour. In that split second of sudden light, he had seen countless hundreds of beastmen spilling from the forest, and racing tow ards the castle.

  They came upon a herd of the beasts, w ho turned and hurled themselves into their path, and Calard's lance rammed deep into the chest of the first of them, lifting it off the ground. Reolus impaled one beast on his lance and killed another w ith a sw eep of his sw ord. One knight fell, but the others continued on, smashing aside the enemy and crushing them mercilessly. Anara rode on in their centre, apparently oblivious to the engagement, as she continued to chant and the rain continued to increase in intensity.

  Lightning flashed again, and Calard cried out in desperation as he saw the sheer number of the enemy. They were but a handful of knights, and he saw no hope of stemming the tide of beastmen, especially since the castle had already been breached. He rode on, regardless, determined to die defending his home if such was the Lady's w ill.

  They got closer, overtaking scores of beastmen in the race to the castle, and Calard, having discarded his lance, swung a lethal blow into the back of the head of one of the enemy, his strike powered by desperation and rage.

  They thundered onto the cobbled road leading into the castle, and tw o more knights fell, one with a jagged spear jutting from his neck, and another as an axe hammered into his steed's chest. Reolus kicked his massive steed into the lead, and carved a path of destruction through the beasts, hacking left and right.

  They pounded across the lowered drawbridge.

  The portcullis was a shattered ruin, its black iron lattice wrenched completely out of shape by some colossal force. The heavy w ooden doors of Castle Garamont w ere tw isted and contorted completely out of shape, writhing tree limbs and sap dripping roots having sprouted from the ancient planks and torn the gate apart.

  They passed scores of bodies, loyal men-at-arms that had died defending the castle.

  Their bodies had been viciously hacked apart, their limbs thrown haphazardly across the cobbles. Galloping after Reolus, the knights thundered through the gatehouse. A beast hurled itself from an overhead balcony and tackled a knight from the saddle.

  The man w as instantly swamped w ith enemies, who hacked at him with axes and sw ords, rending him limb from limb.

  Galloping free of the gatehouse, Calard saw that the courtyard w ithin was teeming w ith the enemy. They were running riot, smashing burning and killing. Through the driving rain, he saw men-at-arms upon the battlements fighting hard against the creatures that sw armed up the stone stairw ays. From atop the tow ers, bow men fired into the heaving mass of beasts w ithin the courtyard, but it w as like spitting into the w ind. Flames licked up at another of the tow ers, and he saw men jump from its top, hurtling dow n to smash amongst the carnage below rather than be burnt alive.

  There, standing among the carnage, was the beast, the Gave, revelling in the destruction being w rought. It snarled, and directed its minions tow ards the knights w ith sharp sweeps of its staff. Then it barked, animalistic commands as it stalked up the steps tow ards the keep. Calard raked his spurs into the flanks of his warhorse, urging it tow ards the creature.

  At his side, Anara released her grip on the neck of her snow-white mare and spread her arms out to either side, palms open to the heavens. She lifted her head high and cried out in a hiring tongue that Calard did not understand, and he felt the hairs on his arms stand up.

  The dark clouds overhead boomed ominously, and then, with a barked command of pow er, lightning flashed down from the dark sky, stabbing into the densely packed enemy ranks like a jagged blade.

  Dozens of creatures w ere consumed as the pow erful energy coursed down from the heavens to strike raised weapons and helmets. Arcs of energy coalesced over their bodies, jumping eagerly betw een the beasts, consuming scores of them instantly.

  They jerked spasmodically as their flesh was cooked and their blood boiled, sparks and branches of w hite-hot pow er flashing back and forth over their forms.

  Another, more pow erful spear of light arced dow n from the heavens and struck the ground in the centre of the courtyard, and the accompanying boom w as deafening.

  Scores of beasts w ere slain instantly, their flesh charred and blackened, and all those w ithin twenty yards w ere hurled from their feet, their fur and skin singed.

  Calard struggled to remain in the saddle, clinging frantically to his steed's neck as it reared in terror. Several knights w ere thrown, hitting the ground hard as they fell.

  Calard w renched on the reins, dragging the destrier back under control, and kicked it tow ards the shattered great doors leading into the keep, galloping over the burning and smoking corpses of those killed by the lightning strike.

  An acrid metallic stink rose in the wake of the crackling discharge, mingling with the repulsive smell of burnt hair and flesh.

  Calard slashed his sword into the charred head of an enemy as it struggled to rise, and pounded across the smoking courtyard. Other beasts w ere knocked aside by his w arhorse's bulk, limbs broken beneath its hooves. Reolus hacked down more of the creatures, and galloped at his side, as did Maloric and Anara, and the last knights remaining in the saddle.

  They rode up the great stone steps leading to the keep. The creature leading the beastmen w as pushing itself to its feet, one side of its body charred and smoking, its skin blistering and blackened from the lightning strike.

  Then Calard and his companions were past the creature, riding through the arched entrance, into the keep, the hooves of their steeds slipping on the smooth flagstones, echoing sharply.

  The beautifully carved, heavy doors to the keep had been smashed down, and shouts and screams came from w ithin.

  The great entrance hall was wide, its walls lined with archaic suits of armour. The enemy w as thick here, flooding the hall, intent on destruction and slaughter. Flames w ere consuming the ancient tapestries hanging on the walls. Priceless depictions of Gilles le Breton's famous tw elve battles, w hich had taken a generation to w eave, were destroyed in moments. The heat inside the keep was almost unbearable. A huge chandelier covered in candles dropped from the high ceiling, the chain clattering loudly as it ran out. It slammed into the floor w ith a resounding clatter, crushing a pair of beasts beneath it.

  Clangs rang out as old suits of armour w orn by past lords of Garamont w ere kicked from their pedestals, and Calard saw a servant dragged from a side door and butchered. Another man w as slammed head first into a w all, his skull cracking under the impact. Sounds of fighting echoed up from stone side passages, and he could hear men and w omen screaming as the beasts ran rampant through the keep. The bodies of men-at-arms and knights littered the flagstones.

  The knights rode up the hallway, driving the enemy out of their path, cutting them dow n w ith sword and lance. At the far end of the wide corridor, the doors to the audience hall were being forced open, the beastmen heaving a crude battering ram w ith all their brutish muscle against it.

  'For Garamont and the king!' roared Calard.

  CASTELLAN LUTHEURE OF Garamont sat tall upon his high-backed throne, the unsheathed sw ord of his family across his knees. His right hand w as clasped weakly around the pommel of the revered w eapon, while his left hand held the cold blade itself. His eyes were locked on the double doors that w ere the main entrance to his audi
ence chamber.

  Thick beams of w ood had been hefted into position to brace the heavy doors, but they w ere bulging in w ith every shuddering impact. The battering ram slammed into the doors again and again, and timbers groaned in protest.

  To Lutheure, the sound w as a death knell. It may as w ell have been Morr knocking at his chamber door, coming at last to claim him.

  A handful of loyal knights stood fanned out at the bottom of the dais on w hich Lutheure sat, sw ords in their hands, ready to step into the breach as soon as the doors w ere smashed asunder. It would not be long.

  The side doors were similarly barred, and there was crashing against them also, though Lutheure w as certain that the main doors w ould be broken dow n before they w ere breached.

  Dozens of elderly courtiers, advisors, servants and ladies were clustered at the back of the chamber. Some of them w ere crying softly, w hile others were praying to the Lady for deliverance. They jerked violently with every crash of the battering ram.

  Several of them aw kw ardly held weapons in hands more suited to quills or refined crystal glasses.

  Lady Calisse sat at the castellan's side. Her face was pale and drawn, though she show ed no fear, and her head was held high and proud. Lady Elisabet of Carlemont, hovered nearby, visibly shaking her large, doe eyes w ide and tearful.

  'Please, my lord,' begged Garamont's aged chamberlain, Folcard. 'The passage is hidden, and the beasts w ill never find it. The tunnel leads deep into the bedrock. You w ill be safe there until the siege is lifted.'

  Lutheure turned his rheumy gaze tow ards the fierce old chamberlain.

  'One of these days you w ill need to show me all the hidden passages that riddle this place,' he w heezed.

  'On my w ord, my lord, but to see that day, you must come, now !'

  'I w ill not,' said Lutheure softly.

  'My lord, you must!'

  'I w ill not hide from my enemies like a frightened peasant,' said the castellan forcefully. 'This is my ancestral home. I shall not be driven from it, and if the Lady decrees that my time in the w orld is past, then I shall die defending it to the last.'

  'Then I shall stand alongside you, my lord,' said the castellan.

  'Don't be a fool, man,' said Lutheure. 'You have not held a sw ord in your life. Go.'

  'I w ill not,' said Folcard, his fierce eyes blazing.

  Lutheure chuckled, though it descended into a painful, racking cough. He lifted a goblet from the small table at his side and took a sip of his pungent remedy. It w as truly foul, and, though his health had steadily declined in the last months despite his physician's ministrations, he had continued to drink the brew rather than face his w ife's wrath.

  'We are as stubborn as each other,' he said w hen he had recovered, wiping flecks of blood from his pale lips. 'A pair of stubborn old fools.'

  'Indeed so, my lord.'

  Lutheure turned his gaze tow ards his wife, but she spoke before he could utter a w ord.

  'My place is w ith you,' she said, her eyes brooking no argument. 'I am not leaving your side.'

  He had never w on an argument w ith her in his life, and he knew that he was not going to start now . Resigned, he turned back tow ards his chamberlain.

  'Get the others out,' he said.

  The chamberlain bow ed low, and moved tow ards the rear w all. He moved w ith the jerky stiffness of a hunting crane. He pressed his thumb against a small innocuous stone on the w all, and it sank inwards with an audible click. Moving to another place on the w all, he pushed and there was another click, followed by the grating sound of stone on stone. A panel slid aside, revealing a dark hole. A man w ould have to craw l on his hands and knees to enter the hidden passage. Beckoning swiftly, the chamberlain urged the first of the courtiers to enter.

  'Craw l through,' he said. 'You can stand after ten paces. Just keep following the passage. Feel your w ay forw ards. Hurry now!'

  'You too,' said Lutheure to Elisabet. Tears ran dow n her heart-shaped face, and she nodded numbly.

  With a tremendous sound of cracking timbers, the beams barring the doors gave w ay, and the enemy surged in.

  With shouts, the knights defending the chamber leapt forwards, killing the first of the beasts that tumbled inside.

  'And so the end is here,' said Lutheure.

  ELISABET WAS DUCKING down, gathering her long dress in her hand as she prepared to craw l into the hidden passage. The darkness within was complete, utterly sw allowing those that had already craw led within. She was the last person to enter, and the portal w ould be sealed behind her. The thought was terrifying.

  'Hurry, girl,' barked the chamberlain.

  Steeling herself, biting her lip, Elisabet began to craw l into the darkness. The slipper of the person in front of her kicked her in the face, and she cried out, the sound echoing loudly. She could hear others further along weeping as they crawled into darkness, and some w ailed in fear.

  'For Garamont and the king!' came a shout from the hallw ay, and she stopped short.

  'Calard!' she called, her voice echoing sharply around the enclosed space, and she began to push herself back the w ay she had came. Despite the chamberlain's protests, she squirmed backw ards, back out into the audience chamber.

  'Calard!' she called again as she pushed herself to her feet, oblivious to the dust and muck that coated her knees and hands. With a curse, the chamberlain tripped a sw itch and the hidden passageway was sealed shut.

  REOLUS LED THE charge, his flashing blade, Durendyal, striking down into the back of a beast's skull, smashing it into bloody shards. The remaining knights thundered into the audience chamber.

  Calard took in the scene in an instant. He saw half a dozen knights in front of him, fighting back the dark beasts of the forest, their swords bloodied. He felt a stab of outrage as he saw a w asted, skeletally thin old man sitting in his father's throne, and it took a moment for him to realise, with a shock, that it w as his father.

  Calard w as filled with sudden grief. His father's muscle was all but w asted aw ay and his skin was a sickly grey. His eyes were almost completely lost in the deep recesses of their sockets, and he was dressed in robes. He clearly did not have the strength to w ear his armour, even if it had fitted his gaunt frame. That must have hurt his pride immensely, and Calard's heart w as filled with sorrow.

  The Lady Calisse sat at his father's side, and the vulture-like figure of Chamberlain Folcard stood behind them.

  'Calard!' someone cried out, and he saw Elisabet, her face streaked with tears. He sw ore. What w as she doing here? Still, the hope and love he saw in her eyes filled him w ith grim determination.

  With sudden vigour, he drove the point of his sword into the unprotected back of a beastman that had just felled one of the knights. The thrust skewered the creature betw een the shoulder blades, and it gave out a sickeningly human squeal of pain as it dropped.

  'Seal the doors!' ordered Reolus, sliding from his saddle, kicking out and sending a beastman that rushed at him spraw ling as he did so. More of the braying monsters w ere stampeding up the corridor towards the chamber, and Calard pulled his steed around sharply before dropping from the saddle. A spear was thrust tow ards him, but he had no time to raise his defences. A blade knocked the blow aside, and the creature's jugular w as neatly sliced open. It fell, blood bubbling from the w ound.

  Calard's thanks died in his throat as he saw who had saved him.

  'No thanks necessary,' said Maloric w hen it was clear that Calard w as not going to offer any.

  Several knights grabbed the reins of the horses and dragged them aw ay from the main floor of the audience chamber.

  Reolus stood alone in the open doorw ay, holding the flood of the enemy back w ith his flashing blade. The grail knight parried blows with consummate ease, sending flashing ripostes that killed quicker than the eye could follow. Behind the surging enemy, the Gave w as stalking up the corridor, eyes ablaze w ith fury.

  Maloric and Calard ran to the doors.

/>   'Now !' shouted Reolus, sensing a lull in the attack. He stepped swiftly back into the audience chamber, and the tw o knights errant slammed the doors closed.

  The thick timbers that had barred them shut w ere splintered and useless, and Calard frantically looked around for something anything, that could be used to barricade the entrance. He leant his weight against them as the enemy hurled themselves against the doors from the other side, and his armoured feet began to slide across the blood-slicked flagstones.

  'Help us!' he cried, and more knights ran forwards to lend their weight. Others ripped long pikes and halberds from the walls of the hall and inserted them into the heavy iron brackets to bar the doors shut, but they seemed pitifully fragile against the force battering from the outside. There was a tremendous crash, and the knights w ere hurled backw ards a step. The beasts had clearly resumed their former tactic, and w ere once again using their battering ram.

  'Step back, and make ready,' said Reolus, his voice calm and authoritative. 'The Lady is w ith us.'

  As if his words were a charm, the hammering at the door ceased abruptly, and the knights looked at each other in confusion. They backed aw ay, hands clenching around the hilts of their weapons. The tension in the room w as thick, and Calard took the moment of respite to w ipe the sweat from his forehead. The sudden silence w as eerie, and he fully expected the doors to explode inwards at any moment.

  He risked a glance up at the dais, and his eyes met Elisabet's.

  'I love you,' mouthed Elisabet to him.

  His eyes shifted to his father, whose uncompromising visage frowned down at Anara, w ho w as walking slowly up the stairs towards him. With great effort, the castellan pushed himself up from his throne, using the blade of Garamont like a crutch.

  THE DAMSEL ANARA climbed the stairs to stand before the castellan. He looked like an animated skeleton, his robes hanging loosely on his emaciated body, and every contour of his skull pushing against his skin. She felt rather than saw Calard follow ing in her wake.

  'Who is this?' asked the Lady Calisse as she stood up from her throne, sensing that something w as taking place that she did not understand.

 

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