Sweat dripped down his face from the intense heat the bodies were giving off, but it was quickly washed away by the rain that drenched him. Feeling a wave of panic, he drove himself forward and grabbed the neck of a sneering goblin with its back to him; once again. Startled, the creature tried to turn but his sword had already pierced its heart.
“Kore crush’em all!”
His heart swelled with the orc’s battle cry. He was unable to locate its source, but if Kore was here, so was Willow. He felt a jab in the lower right side of his back and fear broke his thoughts apart. His armor did its job and protected him, the screech of metal meeting sword drawing him back to his surroundings. One of the horrid goblins had made their way towards him while he was woolgathering and was trying to pierce his dark gray armor. If it had been made of regular steel, he might have been dead.
Holding his sword in his slightly bent elbow, he waited for the goblin to swing again. The creature sneered and lunged, armor jiggling as the pieces clashed together. He parried and sliced his enemy across a knee, causing it to fall on its side. He plunged his sword into the goblin’s chest and moved on.
“Et servient mihi surgere!” came a bellow from his left. He nearly lost his footing as the corpses around him began to tremble. Serix’s eyes were on fire as he lifted his arm and the bodies around them rose with it. Stumbling to their feet, the undead goblins formed a staggered line and with a motion from Serix, began tearing into their own kin. The mage glanced at him and smiled. Protected by his legion of zombies, the necromancer stepped forward to do battle once more. It was one of the most horrifying things he’d ever seen.
This guy was supposed to be on our side?
“What are you waiting for, an invitation? Isn’t your girlfriend out there?” Melissa thundered from his left, charging forward. Green fire once again lanced from her hands and it hit a goblin full force in the chest, lifting him up and throwing him off the side of the cliff.
“She’s in the center, get to her!” a female voice hollered from his rear, accompanied by the familiar twang of a bow. Kylee was standing on top of the hut and was picking the goblins off as quickly as she could.
He didn’t need any more encouragement; he dove into the fray.
Serix had his hand on the head of a goblin and with muttered words, a dark mist rose from the mage’s palm. Before his eyes, the fallen goblin began to shrink, its body sucked dry like a prune. The white glow of the mage’s eyes turned on him, then to the next victim foolish enough to come in range.
He dodged to the left and began fighting his way forward; Willow had to be in there somewhere. If only he could get to her in time.
IV
Willow had stood her ground and watched as the obvious leader of the goblins ordered his forces to attack. Hundreds of red orbs glared at them; white snarling teeth glinting in the darkness. Trek had taken on the form of a large bear and was growling in turn. Kore was sweeping them off the cliff as fast as he could, but there was too much ground to cover for him to do it alone. Kylee had backed away and ran for the shack to their rear for a better vantage point; her arrows useless in close quarter combat.
She had forgone the mace; she wasn’t a fighter and it lay useless on the ground at her feet. Her hand had instead grasped her mother’s emerald around her neck. Calling upon its power, she extended her hand at one of the assailants and it flew backwards into its approaching comrades; knocking a few off the cliff side for good measure. Smiling, she turned in the direction of the next wave. Then she felt the pressure of numerous goblins falling upon her, forcing her to the ground. Her armor protected her somewhat, but she felt her breath being crushed out of her by the weight of the enemy. She would suffocate quickly if she didn’t get free of them.
Then the weight was gone. Trek’s mouth had sunk into one of the goblins’ neck and by shaking his jaws from side to side, cleared enough room for her to regain her feet.
“Kore crush’em all!” she heard her companion bellow and renewed energy flooded through her.
Arrows streaked across the sky, burying themselves in the heads of their enemies. A double-headed axe swept in arcs, cleaving goblins in two. And a gigantic bear was clawing and tearing his way through the horde. It was time for her to contribute more than a boost of energy to this fight.
Delving into the energies her necklace harnessed, she opened her arms and let it flow through her unhindered. White light exploded from her eyes and mouth as her body began to lift off the ground. She brought her arms together, feeling the power rage even stronger, then flung her limbs wide. With a burst of white light, the energy exploded outward, vaporizing every creature within ten feet of the blast. The concussive blow thrust the living backwards, and those that had just reached the cliff’s edge were thrown violently back over the side.
She floated back down, eyes flaring as she searched for her next target; not recognizing friend from foe. Ringed around her, the goblins held their ground, too scared to approach after seeing their comrades disintegrate before their eyes. Calling upon the power once more, she thrust her arm forward and surges of white lightening crackled across the stunned goblins; frying them in place. The armor they wore was a proficient conductor and arcs of electricity streaked across the enemy. The melted, steaming corpses did nothing for her; she wanted more. Someone was sprinting straight for her and she turned, summoning her magic once more.
“Willow, no!” Tristan yelled as she sent a burst of lightening over his head. He dove to the ground, hair singed despite the protection from his helm. He grasped at her legs and looked up into her eyes. She was full of rage and had no recognition of the man pawing at her feet. Her arm started to come down, palm open as she prepared to fry the pathetic begging—
“Ut pernoctabit,” a voice spoke to her left and a finger touched her forehead.
Instantly, her vision went black and she was out.
V
Crossing the field of battle, dodging magical flames, arrows, and the occasional sword fight, he had finally reached his beloved fiancé. Overjoyed at their reunion despite the dire circumstances, he looked into the white orbs that had once been his lover’s eyes and realized she had no idea who he was, and she was about to kill him.
“Willow, no!” he begged, not wanting to hurt the woman that he loved. What had come over her? Her hand was lowering in his direction, the powerful glow around her was beginning to intensify, and her mouth was open and uttering the words of a spell as hate contorted her face into an unrecognizable mask of the woman he loved.
“Ut pernoctabit,” Merlin whispered, suddenly by Willow’s side. He was touching her on the forehead and the white light suddenly winked out. Her head lolled to the side and she plunged towards the Earth. Tristan caught her before she could strike the ground, wondering what the mage had just done to his fiancé. He was grateful to be alive, but if he’d hurt—
“She’s asleep; protect her,” Merlin commanded, turning back to the battle raging around them.
He laid her gently on the ground, the area she was standing in free of corpses for some unknown reason. Then he rose to his feet, unsheathed his sword, and stood ready to fend off any attackers that approached. It seemed not many dared to try, and he had time to catch his breath before the next attack. What had she done that had frightened the goblins so badly that they didn’t dare attack even when she was on the ground asleep?
Serix had a group of eight undead creatures sweeping across the clearing. Even though some were missing limbs and once fatal blows should’ve killed them, they continued forward as if they didn’t feel a thing. Tearing into their horrified kin; they showed no mercy and he cringed at the thought of being in their place.
A mountain lion raced across the clearing and with the help from a very large bear, began pushing the goblins towards the cliff face. Kore’s axe could be seen on the other side of the melee, rising and falling, his battle cries echoing across the battlefield. A goblin had decided to come for him, but an arrow pierced its skull an
d it fell on its side with a crunch.
Kylee approached from his left and he’d never been so glad to see her. “She okay?” the elf panted, another arrow notched and ready to fly. “I don’t know what she was doing, but holy crap. It took a lot of guts to get anywhere near her. That blast she sent out, I don’t think it would have only incinerated our enemies had any of us been close.”
“Merlin put her to sleep,” he answered automatically, wanting to rush forward and aid in the battle waging before him. His love for Willow kept him in place. He would not leave her undefended—not again. “I don’t know about the rest, I just got here.”
The goblin forces had begun to dwindle, and he was able to see a crowned goblin raising his staff in defiance of the approaching enemy. Green light shot from the staff’s crystal and hit the large bear on its flank. With it howl, it hit the ground; red seared skin steaming despite the rain.
Grinning, the goblin waved his staff over his head; the air crackling. Merlin sent a burst of flame forward, but it struck some kind of barrier erected around the evil creature. The goblin leader gave a wicked grin in return, and a shiver ran up his spine. It was enjoying every second of the anguish it caused. How had a monster like that ever been allowed to exist? Eyes blazing, the wretched fiend lowered its staff and prepared to cast a spell at the oncoming foe.
The goblin’s eyes suddenly went wide as a large battle axe flew across the battlefield straight for its head. In panic, quick words were uttered and the crystal on the goblin’s staff flared red. A globe of energy surrounded the creature and he winked out of existence. Merlin was already plunging headfirst towards his attacker and before he could dodge, entered the light and disappeared.
“No!” yelled Serix, who had been inching up behind the goblin leader. He dove forward and followed the other mage into non-existence. Were these people crazy? A roar erupted to his right just as the battle axe hit the fading red orb where the goblin had previously been standing. Kore was suddenly there, charging across the field and launched himself headfirst into the fading light; which promptly winked out as if it had never been.
The undead goblins promptly fell to the ground in a heap; the necromancer controlling them gone. There were only a few of the enemy left and between Kylee’s arrows and the mountain lion, they were quickly dispatched. The large bear was moaning, shimmering, and before his eyes a small feral cat lay on the matted grass howling in pain. The mountain lion then straightened up, shimmered, and moments later Melissa appeared, looking over the edge of the cliff; making sure that their enemy had truly been vanquished.
Three of their number had just disappeared and though the battle was over, he couldn’t help but feel less victorious and more grievous at the devastating loss.
He knew that the goblin wasn’t suicidal, that it had teleported itself somewhere, but what did that mean for Merlin, Serix, and Kore? Had they just materialized in the middle of a goblin horde? That would certainly mean their deaths.
Head lowered, he knelt beside his sleeping girlfriend and tried to rouse her from Merlin’s spell. It was holding strong and nothing he could do would wake her. Déjà vu struck, and he was forced to recall how he had left her on the cliffs below.
“Are you all right?” Melissa asked as she approached. She was passing the wounded cat and had bent to pick the creature up. With soft words of magic, green light flared from her palm and slowly the burnt patch of skin on the cat’s rear flank began to heal. “What’s with the fairy?”
“He’s the reason we got here in once piece,” Kylee told her defiantly, taking the now frisky cat from the witch’s arms.
Melissa let it go, her work done, and turned her gaze on him instead. “You should bring her inside, let me look at her.”
He wearily nodded his head. It had been a hell of a long day and the battle had drained what little energy he had left. The cat had begun to yowl, and Kylee set him on the ground quickly lest he take it upon himself to attack her next. Instantly the orange tabby went to Willow’s side and licked her face, as if she were under a spell that required a lover’s kiss—or lick. This thing was a fairy? It looked like any old cat that roamed the castle’s streets.
Kylee bent over and together they lifted Willow to her feet. Stumbling forward, they followed Melissa as she headed back towards the shack. They had to tread carefully, armored corpses were lying strewn about; their greenish black blood soaking the soil.
“Would you look at what you’ve done to my front lawn? Do you know how hard it is to cultivate grass at this altitude?” Melissa growled.
Was she kidding? “What happened to the others?” he managed between pants, stepping over another hacked up corpse.
“Don’t worry,” the witch responded. “You haven’t seen the last of Merlin. That cat has nine lives and is too stubborn to die so easily.” Something bounded by and he saw that the cat had made it to the door ahead of them; disappearing inside.
“Waaat are ye at in ‘ere? Git!” he heard a familiar tiny voice. Bleak was standing by the door, peering out at them. “Oi knew yer were trouble as soon as Oi saw yer!”
“Shut up, Bleak,” Melissa told the brownie, as they stumbled past. “Well, it looks like I’m involved now. That’s just great; no taking that back. Why couldn’t he just leave me the hell alone?”
He didn’t answer. It was taking everything he had to keep up with the woman and his legs were slowly giving out on him. Kylee was slowing as well. They might make it to the cavern before collapsing but he doubted it. Struggling forward, they followed the cursing woman into darkness.
Chapter 16
The Sword of Madera
I
John burst into the dungeons, surprising the prison guards. They were huddled around a table playing cards and when their king pounded through the door, they jumped to their feet; spilling the contents of the table onto the floor. Standing there as if their hand had been caught in the cookie jar; they were prepared for the incoming reprimand.
“Where is Clint?” he demanded.
Startled, they pointed down the hall. “He came in a few minutes ago, my Lord. Told us to go about our game while he checked on a prisoner,” spoke one of the guards timidly.
A scream ripped through the air in the direction his aide had fled, and he cursed himself for ever believing a word that traitor said. He and his men sprinted down the hallway; the guards rushing to join them. Fuck! I didn’t get here in time! Clint had succeeded in opening the secret passage, and now the enemy was within the castle walls!
His sword grew heavier, his breath coming in gasps. He couldn’t help but feel like he failed his people; that their deaths were solely on his hands. The Guardians were the first to turn the final corner and charged headfirst into the scrambling goblins that had emerged from the stone floors.
He whipped around and thundered at one of the lax prison guards, “our fears are realized; go sound the alert! The palace has been compromised!” He bolted around the last corner of cells and plunged into battle. Inmates were trying to grab the enemy through the bars, only to have their arms slashed in the process. Others taunted the goblins, laughing at them as they ran into the iron bars head first in a vain attempt to reach the prisoners.
The Guardians and his knights were fierce with their sword strikes but the area was cramped with bodies and maneuverability was limited. There were only twenty of the enemy, but he was quite sure there were more trying to climb up from below. If these creatures had been let loose upon the castle who knew how much damage they could have caused before being run down.
“I want Clint alive!” he yelled, leaping into the fray.
His steel disemboweled the first goblin within reach, the monster working on one of his knights; oblivious to the danger from behind. Blood was quickly covering the stone floor and he treaded carefully; the slick surface making his feet slip as he moved forward. Bringing up his sword, his eyes searched for his next target.
A body struck him on his right side and drove him into
the bars. Unarmored, his shoulder impacted steel and made his teeth rattle. He reached down and flung the goblin that had fallen against him, knocking another down with the force of the throw. With a thrust of his sword, he ran his blade through the goblin’s mouth, through the back of its skull, and into the chest of the vile creature behind it. The corpses crumpled to the floor and he put his foot on the goblin’s waist and yanked his weapon free.
A howl went up from his men and his pumping adrenaline jerked his head in that direction. Goblin corpses were strewn across the floor in scattered heaps, but none remained standing. Even the inmates were cheering. He stepped over the body of his victims and grabbed the shoulder of one of his knights. They were standing over a square exit through the stone floor, a slab lying discarded on its side. He grabbed a torch and dropped it through the drafty hole, watching as it fell through the darkness.
Goblins were in the process of scaling a ladder and red eyes glared at him with hate. There was no sign of Clint. “Coward!” he screamed into the tunnel, knowing that the following echo would reach the fleeing traitor. Laughter drifted from below and the fury broiled unchecked. He began kneeling down, prepared to follow after; despite the goblin troops squealing happily at the prospect.
“My King, you can’t!” Windel snapped, grabbing his arm and holding him back.
“To hell I can’t. Unhand me!” he roared. The echoes of Clint’s laughter increased in strength and he almost brought several people with him as he tried to jump down the hole.
“Grab him!” his aide commanded the other Guardians. Several hands were suddenly gripping his body, forcing him back.
“Get the hell off me! This is treason!” he bellowed, using all his strength to throw his attackers off. Windel was bending over and dragging the stone slat into place. As it sank back into its formal home with a crunch, the laughter was cut off and his rage increased. “How dare you! Who the hell do you think you are? I’ll see you hang for this!”
The New Age Saga Box Set Page 31
