Sylestra cackled in delight.
The faces of the two men standing in front of her zombie general were as pale as ghosts. Their jaws hung open and their eyes were wide. They seemed to be frozen to the spot. If they didn’t move soon they would be cut down where they stood. Now that would be a great show.
It wasn’t to be though. The one she identified as a major drew his sword in shaky hands. Her zombie stopped and swung down with his sword; a clumsy strike the General would never have made in life.
As expected the Major blocked it with ease, but instead of responding with a killing stroke he kicked the zombie back and to the ground. The wizard she recognised from the time she had captured O’tukka and Pilk in her cage, pointed his tall staff at the prone zombie but the Major held him back.
Her animated corpse struggled to his feet and staggered toward the two men once again. The Major appeared to be yelling something at him and by the looks it was his title and name. Sylestra wished she had enacted a spell of hearing so she could hear what the man said. He seemed to be trying to communicate with her zombie. The mindless corpse of course would not respond; it had no memory, no intelligence, and no thoughts except for what her magic continually instructed it to do. The animated corpse had a quality that no living thing possessed: perfect loyalty.
The men kept backing away as the Major continued his communication attempts. His pleas became desperate and tears fell from his eyes.
Sylestra laughed harder.
The zombie swung his sword in a horizontal arc this time and once again it was blocked. Again and again the General swung his sword and each time the attack was effortlessly picked off.
Something was different about this soldier. Even though he fought an undead creature his sword strokes were unnaturally quick. His movements were being enhanced by someone or something and despite the extra speed, his control was exceptional even in his obvious emotional state. Was it the wizard next to him that enhanced his speed or something else? She would very much like to find out.
The wizard appeared to be trying to reason with the Major but he ignored him. He just continued to block the tireless attacks. A third man showed in her magical vision; a handsome, middle-aged man with black hair and an air of authority around him. He was finely dressed in black leather armour and a red cape and walked with confidence.
He was royalty.
This man also pleaded with the Major with intense, but kindly eyes. The Major’s gaze never left the zombie. His moist, focused eyes were burning their way into Sylestra’s memory. No doubt realising that the Major was beyond all reason, the finely dressed man drew his sword and with one mighty stroke, he swung it at the zombie’s neck.
Sylestra’s magical vision went black.
Chapter 32
A Third Gate
Gerard and Jeff were up well before the sun and after a quick breakfast and a hasty farewell, they were off. They instructed the others to return to the main group and inform Major Isak that they had gone on ahead to locate the Gate.
The orcs of the Jagged Spear were kind enough to offer them a guard position on a wagon travelling to D’athage. They were told that the road was safe but occasionally wagons were robbed. Gerard and Jeff were happy to accept the position as it would reduce their travelling time and the early start suited them too.
The travelling merchant was a little wary of them and aside from basic orders he seldom spoke. It didn’t bother Gerard though as he was lost in his own thoughts. They were so close to their goal and if the scout’s numbers were accurate they would be able to fight their way through. He tried to not get his hopes up too much as a lot could still go wrong but it was hard not to. He imagined his reunion with Vik who likely figured him dead and it made him smile.
“What are you smiling about?” barked the Merchant.
“Just thinking that I could be home soon and get to see my son again.”
“You have a son? How long since you’ve seen him?”
“Almost two months. My wife and daughter were killed the day I was captured. My boy saw their massacred bodies and was there when I was taken. He has been through so much.” Gerard had no idea why he told the orc all this but it felt better to talk about it. It kept his memory of them alive and lightened his burden.
“Are you sure your son is still alive?”
The question took Gerard by surprise. “Why wouldn’t he be?”
“Seems strange that so few would be guarding this magic gate. Only reason I can think of is because it’s not under a great deal of threat on either side.”
The logic hit Gerard like a brick and even Jeff looked at him with worry etched into his features. Why would Sylestra stop at the Gate? She sought power and she would not tolerate the threat of Arthea so close. No doubt she had already attacked it or had it besieged even now. Would Duke Angus try to defend the city or would he order it to be evacuated?
“I have to believe he is still alive as it’s what keeps me going,” said Gerard finally.
The orc nodded but a thudding noise in the front of the cart stopped any forthcoming reply. The head of an arrow stuck through the wood.
“We’re under attack!” shouted the Merchant.
Gerard and Jeff drew their swords at once and hurried to the door of the wagon. Gerard took a quick peek out the window to check for any enemies.
He saw none.
“Get back,” he commanded the Merchant.
He stood on one side of the door while Jeff stood on the other. He lifted the lever, pushed the door open in one smooth movement and stepped to the side.
An arrow flew through the open door and thunked into the cart wall, narrowly missing Jeff. Gerard hurried out the door and dived to the side immediately. Jeff pulled up beside him a second later.
Gerard took a quick scan of the area to determine where the robbers could be hiding. To the left of the road was a massive drop into the Black Rock Canyon while on the right side stood a sheer cliff face about twenty paces from the road. A few large rocks littered the ground between the road and the cliff.
“An archer must be behind one of those rocks over there.” Gerard pointed out a group of rocks to Jeff that were on the right angle for an archer to shoot an arrow through the cart door. “We need to watch for overhead fire though. They likely have an archer on top of the cliff.”
“What’s the plan then, big fella?”
“A mad, suicidal dash to the bottom of the cliff using those rocks for a little cover.” Gerard pointed out the route he figured would give them the best chance. “From there the archer above us shouldn’t have a clean shot. Then we make our way over to the other archer and put him out of action. Keep a watch for others though and be ready to change plans in an instant.”
“Don’t I always?” Jeff smiled.
Gerard couldn’t help but smile back. His warning had been unnecessary. He had done manoeuvres like this for years with Jeff. “Okay, on the count of three — one . . . two . . . three.”
Gerard darted out from behind the cart and ran fast for the cliff, zigzagging as he went to make himself a difficult target. An arrow skipped off a rock nearby revealing the position of a third shooter. The one overhead was soon accompanied by another shooter and they both let loose their arrows at the same time which missed by a mile. He dived behind a rock just in time to dodge the arrow from the one that had fired through the door of the cart. Jeff dived in beside him.
“That one’s mine,” said Gerard, “you can have the one to the east.”
“I’ll race ya. Loser buys the celebratory ale.”
“Deal.” Gerard shook Jeff’s hand, jumped to his feet and charged at his target who even now reloaded. Gerard grabbed his dagger from his belt and threw it at the orc as more of a distraction than of any chance of landing a hit — he was still too far away for that.
It worked.
The orc ducked behind his cover as Gerard’s dagger ricocheted around the rocks. It gave Gerard the time he needed to reach the next bit of
cover which he did just as the orc released another arrow.
Novice.
Gerard set off again in a flash and bore down on the archer. The orc didn’t have the time to reload his bow and so he drew his sword. Upon seeing Gerard so close, he hesitated and barely deflected Gerard’s first attack which would have pierced his heart.
“Who . . . what are you?” asked the orc as he blocked Gerard’s second attack.
“I am the bringer of your death.” Gerard kicked the orc in the shin and as he instinctually leant forward Gerard skewered him with his sword. “Mine’s down!”
Gerard turned around to see Jeff engaged with his target. He scanned the top of the cliff and saw the two up there lining him up.
“Get down,” he shouted.
Jeff dropped to his stomach as the archers let their arrows loose. One skipped off a nearby rock while the other found its mark in the stomach of the orc Jeff had been fighting. The orc dropped to his knees and fell face first into the rocky ground.
Gerard picked up his dagger and ran back to the cliff. By the time he arrived there, Jeff had regained his feet and also hurried over.
“You stay with the cart in case there are more nearby while I find a way up to those two,” ordered Gerard.
Jeff nodded.
Gerard started making his way around the bottom of the cliff face when he turned back to Jeff. “And don’t think I won’t be holding you to our little wager, my friend.”
“I didn’t think that for a second.” Jeff laughed.
Gerard continued around the cliff and it wasn’t long until he came across a climbable location. He sheathed his sword and climbed up at once. When he reached the top he peered over to check that it was clear. When he determined that it was he lifted himself over the edge and sprinted to the closest tree.
From there he crept from tree to tree until he came across the spot he had seen the two archers.
They weren’t there.
A noise from behind told him they had run off into the trees. He took off in pursuit, sprinting recklessly through the scrub. He caught sight of them a moment later. When they realised that he was alone, they stopped running and faced him with a confident grin.
Gerard smiled back which stole some of their bluster.
Still they charged at him and swung their swords with wild abandon. These two were not used to fighting together as often they would get in each other’s way instead of complementing the moves of the other.
Gerard laughed as he effortlessly blocked and countered each attack with a single sword. When he had finished playing with them, he pulled out his dagger and enjoyed their horrified expressions.
The one on his left had seen enough and dropped his sword and sprinted off while the other hurled curses at his retreating back. The curses were cut short as Gerard sliced his throat and threw the dagger at his cowardly friend. His aim proved true and the dagger sunk deep into the orc’s back. He dropped to the ground with a howl and struggled to remove the dagger. Gerard didn’t allow him to suffer for long as he approached and plunged his sword into the orc’s heart. He wiped the blood off his weapons, sheathed them and returned back down the cliff.
When he arrived back at the cart, an orc had been tied up and sat against the wheel. Jeff and the Merchant were standing over him asking questions. As Gerard neared, Jeff turned to regard him.
“I captured their leader — well at least the leader of this group. He was hiding behind a rock over there.” Jeff pointed at a rock further along the road. “He waited til we were distracted and a good distance from the cart before making his dash towards the driver’s seat.”
“Some leader,” said Gerard, “willing to sacrifice his group while he makes off with the loot.”
“We’ve been trying to determine if there are more of them nearby but he refuses to answer,” said the Merchant.
“Well, perhaps he has some honour then. We have little choice but to continue on. The longer we sit here the more chance they have of setting up another ambush,” said Gerard.
“But our driver is dead and I’m not about to drive if there are more of them around.” The Merchant’s voice sounded panicked.
“Then I’ll drive,” said Gerard.
“Have you had any experience with worgs?”
“I’ve killed a few.” Gerard smiled. “I’ve driven horses in the past so I’m sure I can work this out.”
The Merchant looked at him with a tilted head. “Horses? What are horses?”
“They are animals from our world that we use for transport and working the land.” Gerard looked at the orc prisoner still sitting on the ground. “So what do we do with him?”
“We will take him to D’athage where he can be questioned and punished for his crimes.”
“And your . . . ah . . . deceased driver?” asked Jeff.
“We’ll bring him along too and I’ll arrange his death rites.”
Gerard and Jeff got to work at once and loaded the captured bandit into the cart and then carefully loaded the body of the driver and covered him with a blanket. While Jeff and the Merchant climbed into the cart, Gerard walked around and hopped up onto the driver’s seat.
He felt a sense of relief to see a similar reins set up to what he used for a team of horses. Now he just had to get the commands right but he had listened to the driver shout commands to the worgs throughout the journey and was confident he could control them.
“Garitch!” he shouted with a snap of the reins which was the Orcish word for forwards.
The worgs jolted so harshly it almost threw him from the seat. He managed to hold onto the reins and while the ride started out a bit jerky, he soon got the hang of things and was able to relax a bit as they sped along the road.
They made it to D’athage with no further drama. Gerard was stopped at the city gates and questioned but once the Merchant got out and explained what had happened, they were escorted to the city guard to make their report.
It took a little longer than Gerard would have liked as he was itching to be on his way but he would still be well ahead of the main group despite their interruptions.
“You have been most helpful,” said the Merchant as they were about to depart. “Should things not work out for you, I’d be happy to take you on as permanent guards. I know I’d feel a lot safer with you two around.”
“Thank you for your offer and for allowing us to accompany you. We have saved much time by doing so and we’ll keep your offer in mind.” Gerard reached out to shake the orc’s hand but the orc looked at it not sure what to do, so Gerard reached for his hand and gave it a hearty shake. “It’s a friendly gesture in our culture.”
The orc relaxed and smiled.
Gerard and Jeff collected their packs of the supplies that had been given to them and began the final leg of their journey to the Gate.
Vik gazed upon the approaching walls of Yulon with a mix of emotions. While relieved that their journey neared its end, he was saddened by what he had left behind. They had left in such a rush that he hadn’t been able to collect many of his possessions which were precious few anyway. Not only had he left behind the city of his birth, but he had left behind any chance of seeing his father again, if he was even still alive.
Furthermore he had left behind Master Pilk, his foster father, who was now at the mercy of the wicked Sylestra. Once again he had been handed off and put in the care of someone else. He loved Cressida and she would take good care of him but it wasn’t the same.
He missed his own mother. He missed his father and his sister, Marley. Just when he figured he couldn’t lose any more, he lost Master Pilk and even Decker was far away. Was he destined to lose all those that he loved?
As he scanned the mass of forlorn faces he came across Major Hillsworth and realised he wasn’t the only one suffering from loss right now. The Major had not said a word the entire journey and appeared to be a walking corpse himself. Vik had watched the scene play out from a distance and could imagine the thoughts that
were going through the man’s head right now. It was common knowledge that Major Hillsworth and General Kehar were the best of friends.
Vik tried imagining himself in that situation where it was an undead corpse of Trent walking towards him trying to kill him. Would he have the strength to do what was needed? He shivered at the thought.
“We will stay the night in Yulon but first thing in the morning we’ll set off to Zin-Baiden. I’ve been away from Jaz for too long as it is. Goodness knows what mischief she’s been up to.” Cressida’s words interrupted his musings. He knew that would be their final destination but he had hoped they would stay in Yulon a little longer as his legs were about to drop off.
The promise of seeing Jaz again quickened his pulse. He didn’t know what it was about the girl — sometimes he wanted to strangle her and other times he wanted to kiss her. He wondered if that’s how Decker felt about Cressida which had him wondering if it was love that made him feel that way. He shook off the thought as they squeezed their way through the city gates of Yulon.
Master Pilk stood tall and stretched his aching back. All this lying on the ground did him no good. He paced around the small magical cage determined to get as much exercise as possible. O’tukka scrunched up his face and looked up at him from his seated position and then returned to the books he had sprawled out in front of him.
As expected Sylestra soon came to the cage. “It has been two days. The time has come to create another gate. I hope you are well-rested and well-prepared because we are going to play a little game this time.”
“Everything is a game to you,” spat O’tukka as he stood up.
“Perhaps, but this one will be most interesting. In order to give you a little extra incentive, my son, one scout will enter the Gate you create. That scout will be Master Pilk. If he returns to report that Aleri has been found then you will be both free to go. If the Gate does not lead to Aleri then Master Pilk will be forced back through and it will be closed behind him.”
Invasion Page 28
