Terry W. Ervin (23 page)

Enchanter Jonas frowned. “I’d sense a necromancer’s magic calling the souls from dormancy.” He placed three fingers to his temple to emphasize the point. “Unless only one or two were called. Private Shaws, and you, should be able to handle that.”

His tone wasn’t condescending, but I knew he held more faith in Shaws than in me. I didn’t blame him. Shaws knew far more about weapons combat than I ever would.

The enchanter sniffed and huffed again. “If we ever leave this spot, it won’t take much to track us by the skunk scent absorbed by our skin and clothing.”

I wanted to ask him if he had a spell to counter the odor, but figured if he had one he’d have used it. “Private Shaws only had one vial with skunk spray.” I reached into my satchel for the small tin flask with a copper cap. A wax seal ensured the content’s safety. “He had two of these. Gave me one.”

“What is in it?” asked the enchanter.

I handed him the palm-sized flask. “Private Shaws said finely ground pepper, powered horsemint mixed with dried goose blood. I think he said it had been stewed in stag musk.”

Enchanter Jonas handed it back to me. “And?”

“He told me it will foil mudhounds. The blood, mint and musk are a combination they can’t resist, and the pepper renders them unable to track by scent for a couple hours.” I slipped the flask back into my satchel and continued to watch the road and listen. If the soldiers of the infiltration team didn’t return tonight or the next, they’d failed.

Pounding footsteps on the road! Too heavy to be goblin, too light to be ogre. Labored breathing said it wasn’t zombie. I aimed my crossbow at the figure in the shadowy moonlight. “Black stars,” I uttered sharply.

The infiltration soldier stopped and replied, “Wet clouds,” between labored breaths.

Enchanter Jonas said to me, “Go get Shaws.”

Private Shaws and Wizard Seelain weren’t yet asleep. They followed me back to the road where Corporal Brines, a dour lanky man, stood bent over with his hands on his knees, struggling to catch his breath.

Wide-eyed, Enchanter Jonas said to Wizard Seelain. “He says a sorcerer slew their enchanter!” He looked to Shaws. “No recall was sent to Prince Reveron. If I send a message, my magic may be detected by their sorcerer.”

Even as Enchanter Jonas spoke, Grand Wizard Seelain summoned a minor wind elemental. I couldn’t see it hovering in front of her face, but the swirling air pulled at her white hair before it shot off. “The prince is being summoned,” she said. “What can we expect?”

Corporal Brines answered, “We captured a souled zombie—one of importance. Greater Enchanter Lallen sacrificed himself to enable our escape. I ran ahead. Those bearing the zombie should be here very soon. The rest are delaying pursuit.”

Shaws asked the question I wanted to ask. “What comes?”

“A giant, ogres and goblins, probably the sorcerer.”

I looked back toward the hillside, hoping they didn’t also have a necromancer.

Shaws took charge. “Wizard, you and Flank Hawk with me. Brines, Enchanter, break camp. Hide the tents and supplies under the fir trees. We’ll advance and help hold the enemy until the dragons arrive. Inform the prince of the situation.”

The enchanter drew his rapier. “No time.”

I didn’t sense any magic, but my gut feeling agreed. Echoing ogre battle calls and a man’s scream proceeded a closing giant’s impact tremors. We hurried along the road, using the shadowy tree line for cover as we closed for battle.

I chewed on a dried apple slice, hoping the bitter taste would bring spit back into my mouth. A giant’s booming voice echoed off the hillsides. He’d arrive before the prince and the dragons. I tried to imitate Shaws’ confidence as I met Wizard Seelain’s determined gaze.

She took my spear and placed her hand on my loaded crossbow. Uttering an incantation, she ran a finger across the quarrel like she did once before. “You know what to do,” she said, as four men sprinted toward us from around a bend in the road, one bearing an unwieldy bundle over his shoulder.

Wrapped in canvas and secured with coils of rope, a man-sized burden writhed while trying to roll off a sergeant’s shoulder.

Shaws ordered Corporal Brines, “Take the prisoner to the pickup site.”

The winded sergeant swiftly draped the zombie over Brines’ shoulder, who then turned and ran down the road.

“Follow him, and assist,” Shaws ordered the sergeant. “Hold the enemy if we fail.”

I didn’t watch the sergeant follow Brines, or wonder long why a sergeant would take orders from a private. I was too busy feeling the ground vibrate beneath my feet. I knelt and held my crossbow ready, aiming upward. “Grand Wizard, behind me.”

“We’ll occupy the giant,” said Seelain to Shaws. As if on cue another man screamed, this time from just around the bend. I spotted the giant’s head and shoulders between the trees, framed by the rising moonlight.

Shaws nodded to the three remaining infiltration soldiers and the enchanter. “Other side of the road.”

Wizard Seelain placed a hand on my shoulder. I hadn’t noticed how tense I’d become. “Prince Reveron will be here soon,” she whispered.

The giant strode nearer and spotted us. He carried a five-tined spear. Each tine had rows of barbs, and from two of the tines hung two dead soldiers. He raised his spear and bellowed gleefully. The reverberating sound rattled my teeth.

I waited, saw the moonlight gleam off one of his eyes as he turned his head, aimed and fired. Wizard Seelain’s spell kept my aim true and the giant’s bellow became one of surprise, then anger. He reached to pluck my bolt from his right eye.

Wizard Seelain followed my shot with a quick spell. Following a miniature thunderclap the giant clutched his ear. With a rumbling snarl he stomped toward us.

I slung my crossbow across my back and grabbed my spear from the ground where Wizard Seelain had set it. Shaws led the other three infiltration soldiers down the road, toward a bunch of ogres that ran to catch up with the giant.

Enchanter Jonas yelled, “Cover your eyes!” just before a flash of silvery light burst near the giant’s face.

I charged forward and stabbed my spear at the giant’s ankle as he blindly moved forward, kicking and stomping. My spear tip bit into his flesh but inflicted hardly more than a sharp needle prick. Still, it got his attention, giving Wizard Seelain enough time to collapse the air around the giant’s other ear.

I dodged a kick and rolled away from a crushing stomp that rattled the road. The giant sniffed deeply before deciding to ignore us and continue down the road.

“He’s after the zombie,” warned the enchanter.

“I can’t stop him!” I said, and saw that an ogre, with four trailing goblins, had passed around Shaws and his men who were busy fending off three ogres and a mob of goblins. “Look!”

Wizard Seelain said, “I’ll slow the giant.” She raised her staff. “Ward me, Flank Hawk,” she ordered before turning and beginning to chant.

The ogre was a big one, wearing leather armor lined with closely sewn rings. He came on with a huge sword held two-handed over his head. I swallowed back some bile creeping up my throat. If I could cripple it quickly, I thought, I might keep it from Wizard Seelain. I gripped my spear, knowing the enchanter’s rapier would be useless. I told him, “I’ll take the ogre, you get the goblins.”

A howling wind rose behind us, telling me Wizard Seelain had summoned a wind elemental to combat the giant.

“Fair enough,” Enchanter Jonas said, presenting his rapier to the enemy while raising his left hand high above his head. “Shall we surprise the brute?” The ogre was nearly upon us, with the goblins twenty paces behind. The enchanter began mumbling what had to be a spell.

There wasn’t any time to see what Enchanter Jonas had planned. I stalked forward, preparing to leap close to get inside the ogre’s swing, and attempt a spear thrust into his throat.

A ray of silvery light shot from behind and into the ogre’s face. The brute shielded his eyes with a forearm, giving me an opening. I stepped to the right and rammed my spear tip through the ogre’s leather armor and deep into its armpit.

The ogre grunted and swung its sword right-handed, forcing me to duck before I’d managed to yank out my spear. The sword knocked my spear from my grip. I drew my sword and moved close, darting behind my off balanced foe.

Enchanter Jonas, sprinting toward the goblins, caught the ogre’s attention. I took advantage of the distraction and stabbed my sword into the back of the ogre’s knee. My blade found flesh so I twisted it before yanking it out. I rolled to the ground to avoid a wild blow from the ogre’s left fist, and climbed back to my feet.

My back was now to the woods. To my right, Wizard Seelain had begun to follow the giant, who swatted and bellowed in frustration at the whirlwind creature assaulting it. Shaws and one soldier still stood but were being driven back, off the road by two ogres and several surviving goblins. Enchanter Jonas was more than competent with his rapier. Stepping quickly, he wielded the nimble weapon, keeping out of reach of the goblins’ short spears and long daggers. They shrieked threats even as one fell, kicking and clutching its pierced neck.

The ogre turned to face me. It favored its left leg heavily and kept its left arm unmoving against its side. I’d crippled it. Now if I could only kill it.

My foe showed no sign of giving up. He held his massive sword ready, snarled and faked a slash. I didn’t take the bait and circled to its left, causing it to snarl and grimace. When I faked an attack, the ogre swung hard, overextending, trying to reach me. I closed and got behind him again. This time I drove my sword into the back of his right knee. He bellowed and fell backwards, almost crushing me. Even though I was off balance, I saw my chance and swung two-handed, hacking deeply into its neck just below the ear.

The ogre cried out in pain and grasped for me with its gauntleted hand. I ducked under its desperate attempt and ran to its left. When the ogre rolled to protect its weak side, I leapt on its back and rammed my sword’s blade into its neck just below the skull, killing it.

I couldn’t believe it. I stood on the back of the fallen ogre. Enchanter Jonas had helped, and it had fought poorly, but still, I’d defeated it!

My victory was short lived. Enchanter Jonas cried out sharply and fell to his knees in the midst of the slain goblins. He’d dropped his rapier and clutched his stomach with his right hand while feebly gesturing a protective spell with his left.

A hunched, black-robed figure upon a great black warhorse held a gnarled fist in front of him. As he slowly twisted and tightened his grip, Enchanter Jonas opened his mouth but no sound came out.

I’d mistaken the black-robed man for a necromancer. It was worse! I leapt off the ogre and charged the spellcaster and his steed. He was a sorcerer—probably the one that slew Greater Enchanter Lallen. Enchanter Jonas was a lesser enchanter and stood no chance.

I had to act fast. With no spear to throw I’d have to use my sword and overcome his warhorse first. But if Enchanter Jonas could hang on and keep the sorcerer’s attention, I might get the sorcerer before he killed both of us and went after Wizard Seelain whose wind spirit still raged against the howling giant.

Enchanter Jonas toppled, clutching his stomach with both hands, before I’d taken four steps. This allowed the sorcerer to focus his attention on me. He raised his deformed left hand and clenched it into a fist. An iron grip seized my heart, stopping it.

I stumbled, dropping my sword as the icy spell sent tendrils of searing pain through my chest and out to my arms. Only powerful sorcerers could destroy a man’s heart. I struggled to breathe as the cold, sinister grip spread. I had to stop it.

I rolled onto my side and curled up before reaching with my mind, grasping for the strands of energy I’d used in the past to heal cuts. It was hard to concentrate through the pain and my heart’s feeble attempt to beat. I chanted with what breath remained while opening my mind to the maelstrom of energy raging beyond normal senses. I drew upon a shimmering strand, one that the eight syllable mantra helped me recognize, and redirected it to the center of my chest. Where it touched, a fleck of warmth penetrated the bitter cold deep in my chest. I sought out a broader strand among the swirling energy, one that I fought to harness.

I looked up, shivering. The sorcerer ignored me, and this gave me hope. With renewed vigor I went after a vibrant, narrow string of magical energy and redirected it. The sorcerer had left his spell unattended, overconfident of its eventual effect. Instead, he looked down the road and urged his mount forward.

With a third strand I broke the deadly grip. My heart painfully lurched back into rhythm. Wizard Seelain screamed.

The black horse stood between me and Wizard Seelain, and I didn’t know if I could stand or for how long. I had Short Two Blades’ talisman, but how long would it take to summon him? I reached for my crossbow.

The sorcerer sat strapped to the saddle, his back twisted at such an odd angle from his hips that even robes couldn’t hide it. My arms ached but I drew back the string and set the quarrel. The sorcerer’s hand was held high, clenched in a fist. He shook it in triumph as beyond him Grand Wizard Seelain staggered and fell to her knees.

The warhorse jumped at my movement but its master ignored the warning. I took aim and fired. The quarrel flew true and struck the sorcerer high in the back along his twisted spine.