Awake the Cullers (History of Ondar) (16 page)

“She’ll get over it,” Eirae said. “Besides, I am ready to get back on Alerian soil. Do you think you can get us past that bridge?”

“Me? What about you two?” he teased. “I’m exhausted.”

Eirae laughed. “Calm down, old man.”

“We’re the same age.” Pielere pointed out.

Ignoring the response, Eirae took a step back and gave a small salute.
“See you on the other side.” Still laughing Eirae disappeared.

“What about you?” he asked Mirerien.

She looked at him uncertainly. “I don’t know if I can. I’ve never been as strong as the two of you.”

Pielere took her hand and smiled. “Together?” She nodded.

The scene at the tower melted away, replaced by the view from the north side of the river. Eirae acknowledged their arrival and dismissed the guard he was speaking with, joining Pielere and Mirerien by the wall. “We have fighting breaking out all around the Square,” he reported. “But that is as we expected. There are also significant skirmishes taking place at isolated spots throughout the city. The two of most importance are here, at the bridge, and over there, in the central shops area. So far, they have funneled the worst of the fighting away from the majority of homes, but if any of those three areas fall, it won’t take long for the Cullers to fill the rest of the city.”

“So we have a battle on three fronts,” Pielere summed up the report.

“And there are three of us,” Mirerien added.

“I’ll take the Square,” Eirae volunteered.

“Which would you like?” Pielere asked Mirerien, leaving the choice up to her.

“I’ll take the shops.”

“Then the bridge is mine. Good luck to us all.”

With that Eirae and Mirerien teleported to their spots and Pielere took in his own scene. Cullers jammed the bridge, picked off by archers and mages. They were not the problem. Near the shore, other invaders jumped into the shallow water, coming to shore along the River wall. Larger men pounded fists into the stone, breaking out sections enough to crawl through or climb over. His people were doing a decent job of holding their own, but for every one Culler kill
ed two or three more came to take his place. He needed to plug the holes so his people could focus on the men already inside the city if they had any hope of survival.

A flash of light appeared on the southern side of the river. Blue fire stretched out a good fifty feet in both directions from the tower by the bridge.
Maerishka was fighting a similar battle to stop those who left Suriax only to turn around and come back once the path to Aleria became bogged down by fighting. Those on the center of the bridge actually became so frustrated by the lack of opponents they began fighting amongst themselves. Several were pushed into the river, their spots quickly taken by those attempting to make it to either exit of the bridge.

Pielere looked at the center walkway crossing their entrance and thought back to the refugees. With the start of a plan he walked to the centermost spot. Guards cleared a path for him. “The Protector,” some said in awe and surprise. Feelings of relief and excitement washed over him, giving him strength. They called him
“The Protector,” one of the Three Lawgivers. Kern said they were gods. If that were true, it was time he lived up to his name and the faith his people had in him. It was time he stood as protector of Aleria, her people and her laws.

Taking out his sword, he put the blade to the stone at his feet, as he had before, and stretched his awareness into the wall. Envisioning the wall as an impenetrable barrier, he was rewarded by feelings of shock and elation as his people realized the Cullers could no longer enter the city. Fed by the faith of those who realized he was the cause of the barrier, Pielere stretched the field further, to the entire length of their
southern wall, around Merchant’s Square and beyond. The more hope he felt from his people, the stronger and easier it became to maintain the wall. Finally he opened his eyes, easily holding the wall with only a small portion of his concentration.

“
Show off
,” he heard Eirae’s thoughts directed to him.

Pielere couldn’t help grinning.
“
Your turn, Brother,
” he challenged back. Taking one last moment to make sure the wall was stable, Pielere joined the fighting.

*   *   *

Eirae teleported himself to a roof near the Square and jumped down to the ground. If anyone noticed his sudden appearance, they were too busy to think much about it. Slicing his sword into Cullers as he moved, Eirae took in the battle at a glance. Most of the conflict was still a spillover from the Square. A few made a break from the mass of bodies and swords to go further into Aleria, but most didn’t realize they were in a new city. They were having too much fun where they were. In the Square, Alerians and Suriaxians fought side by side, united by their common cause and desire to isolate the invaders away from other parts of their cities.

He dispatched another invader and tr
ied to contain his frustration. This was taking too long. In the time it took to kill one man, another three slipped past and were set loose on the citizens of Aleria. A pressure wave rushed through the air. At first faint, Eirae saw a glow of power strengthen along the border walls. The fighters did not notice right away, but its effects were quickly seen as Cullers were repeatedly repelled back from Aleria by the invisible force. Heartened by the aid, the men near the wall cheered and pressed attacks on their confused opponents. “
Show off
,” Eirae thought to himself.

“
Your turn, Brother
,” he heard Pielere think back.

Eirae cracked his neck and centered his energy. So Pielere, the Protector
, wanted to raise a wall? Well he had a name among the people as well. Opening his eyes he sent out his mind, searching for those with even a sliver of conscience left in them. The pickings were small but for those who did still possess a fraction of their minds he struck, pulling on their remorse and leaving them to endure a mental torture of their own design. It was his first time ever attempting this without first touching the person, but it was not as difficult as he imagined. Some began ripping metal attachments from their flesh, as they sobbed and screamed in agony. A few were killed by one side or the other, but most were left alone as everyone had plenty of other adversaries to worry about.

In the order of punishments, first came remorse and contrition. This was his favored method for a person who was truly sorry for his crimes
. Such a person would undergo far worse torture than anything Eirae could devise. It was also the most effective way to change a person and encourage better behavior in the future. But not everyone regretted the evil they did.

Next in the order of punishments was pain, either physical or emotional. Neither method wa
s really appropriate here. The Cullers were unlike normal people. Those unaffected by his earlier attack would not be susceptible to any emotional pain he could imagine, and it was obvious from his interactions with them that physical pain also meant nothing to them. They would not be demoralized by the death of comrades, and they would not be dissuaded or discouraged by the loss of a limb.

That left the final punishment. For those who could not be reasoned with or contained and who posed an immediate and future threat to the lives of others, death was the only sentence that remained. Calmly, Eirae held his blade before him and placed a palm flat against its surface. He would be a sword for justice this day. Letting the strength and purity of the law guide him, he moved, dispensing death with a single strike of his sword or touch of his hand. All who faced him fell dead. As his men began to see this feat, they cheered, their own hits striking truer. Bolstered by their excitement, he moved faster. Some men began to fall as his hand waved near, without any physical contact.

He cut a swath through the Square, dispensing his justice to nearly two dozen invaders in the span of a minute. Despite the achievement, there were quite a few more than that yet to go. Drawing on the faith and encouragement of his people, he continued. This was going to be a long, dark battle. With nightfall upon them, the fighting would soon become more perilous. Catching sight of a dwarf and elven woman riding on marenpaie back, he jumped over broken fences and dead bodies to get closer to them. The dwarven man swung a bright blue, fire covered hammer at men as he rode. The woman cast spells, both in protection of the dwarf and in offense. Her spells were also enhanced by Suriaxian fire. Both of them fought beside Kern and himself at the wall. They were skilled and to be respected for their continued fighting this long into the conflict. The woman was the first to notice him. “Impressive spell,” she said, indicating the death touch he gave to a man attacking her.

“Do you have any light magic?” he asked without preamble, killing another man with his sword as he awaited her answer. “We need something bright enough to fight by,” he explained at her confused expression.”

“Oh.” The woman dug through her bag. “Solyle,” she said, a scroll disappearing into a ball of light at her hand, where it remained for a few seconds before shooting up into the sky. The effect was instantaneous. Both sides of the Square lit up as bright as mid day.

“How long will it last?”

“It will remain bright a short time, then in about half the time of a normal day, it will dim to darkness.”

“Understood. Thank you. Where are Thomas and Marcy?” he asked, continuing to fight by their sides.

“Don’t know,” the dwarf grunted. “We saw him get hit just before the fighting spilled into the Square. Haven’t seen either of them since.”

There was no time for further conversation
. The tide of battle was pulling them apart. Focusing on areas of the densest fighting, Eirae set about relieving the burden from as many of his troops as possible. This would still be a long battle, but at least now it would not be quite so dark.

The tunnels were a maze, a city under the city. Some opened up into expansive chambers with alcoves and endless paths and corners to explore. Others led to dead ends or cliffs overlooking enormous caverns. The rock in spots was perilously slick, and the mothers were constantly after their children to be careful and stay with the group. Samantha couldn’t blame their excitement. Even she wanted to go exploring a few times, entranced by a particular outcropping of rocks or inclines that led to partially hidden caves along the walls. Only her nagging feeling of danger kept her excitement and curiosity at bay.

At the next intersection of tunnels they stopped while the lead guard checked the carvings by each opening for the correct path. It was a slow process, but at least it gave them a chance to rest. Not every tunnel was marked, but they discovered a few chambers back that some did have markings to indicate where they led. Since no one in their group spent any significant time in the tunnels before, other than in the immediate vicinity of the palace, the marking
s were a welcomed find.

“This way,” the man called at the third tunnel.

“Jaiston,” Valesca called to her son. He had a bad habit of running off into dark corners and looking for unusual rocks or other treasures whenever they stopped. She called for him again with no answer.

“I’ll look for him” Samantha volunteered. She had a pretty good idea where to start. Just before this chamber was a series of steps and caves all
the children were fascinated by. Her good spirit faded instantly away as the sound of loud footsteps and banging rang down the halls. The feeling of evil intensified. “You go on ahead. I’ll find him and catch up.” Valesca looked at her uncertainly, clinging to her other two children. Terror shone in her eyes. “I promise.”

All but one of the guards went with the group. The other stayed with her. Together they searched, afraid to call out his name too loudly and be overheard by their pursuers. “Over there,” the guard said
at a soft tapping on the stone. They followed the sound to a small opening. Samantha peaked in and found a narrow tunnel slanting up. The tapping was louder in the tunnel. Climbing in, she handed the guard her torch and began crawling. With his armor there was no way he could fit in the cramped space. It was a tight fit for her. The sword Collin gave her made crawling in the dark tunnel even more awkward, but she moved toward the sound, the approaching danger speeding her movements.

At last she saw a dim light and the tunnel began to widen into a small cave. Jaiston
sat on one side, striking rocks together to make fire for his impromptu camp. His treasure trove of rocks sat beside him on the floor. He looked up at her and smiled, proud to show off his secret space. “We need to go,” she said softly. “The others are waiting for us.”

“Okay,” he said, reluctantly gathering his things.

Samantha began the crawl back down, acutely aware of Jaiston’s movements behind her. At the bottom of the tunnel she saw the flickering of light from the guard’s torches. Her heart pumped wildly in her chest, the feeling of time running out pressing hard on her. She heard footsteps shuffle and the torch light shook, going out. Samantha froze. Reaching back to grab Jaiston’s arm, she silently bid him to remain quiet.

A soft glow reappeared at the bottom of the tunnel. A hand reached in, shining torch light up at them. It was followed by a head. A man, not the guard, looked up at them and smiled. He reached for Samantha
, and she twisted around to kick at his hand. He laughed and reached again, pushing as far as he could into the narrow space. She kicked frantically and hit his torch arm. The torch fell, burning her leg before she kicked the flame out. Jaiston clung to her arms. The man grabbed at her feet. Pulled in two directions and struggling in the dark, she eventually lost the battle. The man got a good grip on her ankle and pulled her down.

She and Jaiston tumbled down and out in
to the chamber. She pulled Jaiston with her, holding on to him and shielding his body from the brunt of the fall. Back stinging from the hard contact with the stone floor, she pushed past the pain and stood, picking up the boy and running in the direction of the tunnel the others went down earlier. She ran by memory. It was pitch black, but somehow she managed to get to the wall of tunnels before stopping. Feeling around for the path they took, she could hear and feel the man following them. He banged his weapon into the wall and floor, making as much noise as he could to frighten a response out of them. He made his way around the room, swinging his weapon, getting closer to them with every step. Samantha took small, quiet steps. Her free hand ran along the wall, feeling for the next tunnel. Finally her hand hit air, and she turned down the dark void. Whether or not it was the correct path, she did not know, but she couldn’t stay in that room any longer without great risk of being found. She heard the man pass their tunnel on his circuit of the room. Jaiston tucked his head in at her shoulders, his earlier bravado gone. In the darkness there was no one to see the tears of fear she felt through her blouse. Holding him tightly, she continued down her dark path. She only prayed it was the right one.

*   *   *

“We have to go back,” Valesca said, pacing the small chamber they were in. “It has been too long. They could be lost or . . .” she stopped herself at the look of fear on her daughter’s face. Kneeling before Krylena, she gently stroked the girl’s hair behind her ear and put on a brave smile. “Jaiston probably found something interesting and led them off on a merry chase. We should go find them before he gets himself in trouble again.” The girl grinned at her mother’s fond, yet exasperated description of her brother.

Her relief was short lived. By the tunnel they just came through, one of the three remaining guards gave a grunt of pain, his eyes rolling back into his head. A glint of silver pushed through his chest and pulled back. The guard fell to the floor in a heap. Everyone sat in stunned silence for several seconds before the man responsible for the guard’s death stepped out from the darkness of the tunnel
, and the reality of the situation hit home. The children screamed and ran to the other side of the chamber. They huddled behind the adults with no way of escape. Unlike earlier rooms, this one only had two converging tunnels, and they were both within a few feet of each other. Both routes were effectively blocked by the monster and his two companions emerging just behind him.

The two guards stood bravely before their charges, ready to lay down their lives to keep them from harm
, but they were outnumbered and outmatched. Both were quickly beaten and battered by the three invaders. Still, with every knock to the floor, they retook their positions and fought on. They got in good hits, but the monsters barely seemed to notice. They raked arms covered in bloody metal spikes over the guard’s chests and backs. The first man punched one guard in the gut and followed with a hard swing against the back, to the sound of bones cracking. The guard went down. The remaining guard retook his position in front of them and held up his sword, ready to fight.

“Look at him,” the monster taunted. “One man is going to take us all on.” They laughed.

“Wrong,” a voice called down the second tunnel. “There are two of us.” A man rushed out of the darkness, cloak flapping with the speed of his movements. With a single strike he took out one of the monsters. Taking advantage of the distraction, the guard attacked again, finally landing a killing blow while their rescuer finished off the third attacker.

The man pushed back his hood and Traelene gasped, running to hug him. “Kern,” she said. “They told us you died.”

He hugged her back and shrugged. “I’m here, now. The clerics’ tree is only a short distance from here if you want to go there, or we could just wait out the battle down here.”

“We must find Jaiston,”
Valesca said. “We were separated a ways back. One of the guards and the woman Samantha went back to find him, but they have been gone a long time.”

“We’ll find them” Kern promised solemnly. “Show me where you last saw everyone.”

It didn’t take long to get back to the chamber of many tunnels. Valesca pointed down the tunnel they came from and Kern took a lantern to look around in the previous room. He returned quickly with the grim news of the other dead guard. Valesca felt her heart sink in despair. Keeping her face expressionless, she held tightly to Emery and Krylena. They did not object.

“Where’s Jaiston?” Krylena asked timidly.

Kern knelt in front of his niece, raising her chin with his knuckles. “Your brother is with a very brave woman. I once saw her defend a group of children she did not know, using her own body as a shield. She will keep him safe until we find them.” He looked up at Valesca, and she felt somewhat comforted by his words.

“Look, Mommy, a stone,” Emery said, pointing down a tunnel.

Valesca ran to pick it up. A stone, just like the ones Jaiston collected. She looked around. It was completely out of place here, not something that could have naturally fallen to the floor at this spot. “He went this way,” she said with certainty, holding the stone tight in the palm of her hand.

“Then so do we,” Kern said, leading the way.

*   *   *

This was a dark night. Dim light from the magical sun over Merchant’s Square barely reached the halfway point of the city. It was bright but localized. Over by the wall, she could see small specks of light from lanterns and torches. Perhaps she made the wrong choice, Mirerien mused. After hours of fighting, running between shops, shooting arrows from rooftops and directing civilians to areas of greater safety, she was exhausted.

Thankfully, due to her brothers’ efforts the number of Cullers inside the city was not increasing, but those who remained were not the loud, boisterous brutes she spent a good portion of the evening fighting. They were quieter, scheming and very dangerous. It took all of her concentration and keen elven senses to keep from being taken by surprise.

She heard a sound like chuckling or laughter and saw the shadows beside her move. A bush shook, and another shadow moved.
The sounds of shuffling and laughter moved through the darkness, coming from several directions at once. She leveled her bow at the movement, but the creature jumped out and past her shoulder before she could shoot. She turned, trying to get a look at him, but he was gone.

Another laugh cackled behind her. She spun to face it only to be kicked in the side of the head by something small and green. It ran into the bushes before she could see what he was. Putting up her bow, Mirerien took out her hammer. She was an excellent shot with an arrow, but these guys were too quick for that.

Swinging around her hammer to get a feel for it and adjust back to that fighting style, she listened for a hint to where they were. “Over here,” a voice said. She turned to the sound and was rewarded with a kick to the other side of her head. Mirerien massaged her neck and worked her sore jaw. Whoever these guys were they enjoyed playing games, and one of them had a powerful kick.

The bushes moved and she jumped back, too late. Expecting another kick, she did not notice the bolas until they wrapped tightly around her legs, bring
ing her to the ground with a painful thud. She swung from the ground at the shadowy figures jumping gleefully over her, just out of reach. Continuing to swing, she worked her feet loose. She threw the entangling weapon into their mix, hoping to at least knock out one. She couldn’t be sure how many of them there were.

Mirerien
felt a sharp pain at her shoulder and looked down. A fresh line of blood stained her shirt. She felt another one on her leg and flinched. They were escalating their little game. Rolling into the bushes, she attempted to put some space between her and them. Trees shook as they followed on either side. The leaves ahead of her shook, and she dropped her hammer through its loop and jumped, grabbing on to a low hanging branch and swinging up into the trees. Running and jumping from limb to limb, she struggled to keep ahead of her pursuers, trying to buy time while she developed a strategy.

Though they were acrobatically inclined, few could catch an elf in a tree. Once
they learned they could not catch her they began throwing daggers at her feet. Each blade struck a little closer until one hit close enough to shake her balance. Slipping, she grabbed on to the limb, only to have one of the creatures land on the limb with a squat and blow a handful of sand in her face. Blinded and in pain from the sand in her eyes, she fell.

Lying alone in the darkness, unable to
open her eyes more than a small fraction, Mirerien crawled toward the faint glow of moonlight. She closed her eyes gently and moved by touch, feeling as the ground turned from sand to stone. She heard their movement again and froze.

“Miri?” a voice called.

“Collin?” she answered, relived to hear his voice and terrified for his safety.

She heard his footsteps and reached out, grateful for his touch. “You must leave here,” she warned. “There are some kind of goblins, I think, in the trees.”

“Goblins?” His disbelief was valid. As far as she knew, no goblins had ever been within the city’s walls. Their lands were a great distance away, and they did not usually venture far from them. Not quickly trusted by other races, they were often attacked and rapidly killed once they left the protection of their homes.