City of Jade (51 page)

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Authors: Dennis McKiernan

BOOK: City of Jade
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. . . And all waited, as into the jungle along the path went Aravan and three others, with a Fox Rider ranging far ahead of the quartet.
 
 
 
In the concealing foliage crept Vex and Lissa, until she had the Spaunen in sight. The Ruch acting as lookout was completely unaware of the tiny scout.
 
 
Lissa fingered a lethal shaft.
It would be so easy, but no, he must see Aravan and the others, for we must draw all to the ship, especially the Trolls.
 
 
Lissa turned Vex, and back toward Aravan and the others she stealthily went.
 
 
 
“Now ’tis no more than thirty of your paces, Captain,” whispered Lissa, and she pointed in the direction of the Ruchen sentry.
 
 
“And the Trolls?” murmured Aravan.
 
 
“Another twenty paces beyond.”
 
 
“What of the Human?”
 
 
“Him I did not see. Would you like me to—?”
 
 
“No, Lissa. ’Tis enough. Now, hie thee back to the ship.”
 
 
Off into the foliage slipped Lissa and Vex, while Aravan silently used his bow and a single shaft to indicate to the three others the direction and angle to loose the arrows. They each set two shafts to the string, all but Aravan, who held the striker. When they were ready, Aravan lit the oiled batting wrapped about the arrowheads that James had, and then Aravan and the others lit their own fire-arrows from those two.
 
 
Then all drew the shafts to the full and aimed and yelled and loosed, the flaming arrows to arc through the air past vines and greenery and into the waiting trap.
 
 
Trolls roared in startlement at the fire flashing down among them. Hlôks yelled, and Rûcks squealed, sounding much like swine.
 
 
Still shouting battle cries, Aravan and James and Finn and Dinny turned tail and fled. The Rûcken sentry cried out, and moments later, and upon the orders of their leader, the dreadful mob howled in pursuit of the fleeing four, for their ambuscade no longer held any surprise.
 
 
Shouting,
Eroean! Eroean!
down the trace the four sprinted, the ship some half mile away.
 
 
“Save thy breath for flight!” called Aravan, as soon as he heard the shouts of the rout in pursuit. “They will soon be on our heels.”
 
 
“Not mine,” called Dinny, and he slowly pulled away from the others, all of them running flat-out but Aravan, who deliberately brought up the rear.
 
 
Yowling, shrieking, Rûcks and Hlôks and Ogrus thundered after, their quarry just then coming into view.
 
 
Several Rûcks paused and nocked black-shafted arrows to their twisted bows and let fly, the missiles to fall short and left and right and long.
 
 
As the arrows sissed down among the runners, Aravan called, “If ye have anything left, now is the time to use it.”
 
 
James managed to add to his speed, but Dinny ahead began to flag, while Finn maintained his own swift pace.
 
 
The
Eroean
came into sight, and those aboard burst into cheers, and then into shouts of encouragement . . . and then into cries of anxiety, as the Spawn in pursuit also came into view.
 
 
The great Trolls with their mighty strides began overhauling the four. More black shafts whistled down among the runners.
 
 
And then James fell, pierced through and through.
 
 
Aravan paused at his side and knelt down.
 
 
The Trolls thundered toward him.
 
 
Aylis screamed and loosed a shaft, and it flew a long flight, only to shatter against the stonelike hide of an Ogru, even as the creature hurtled toward Aravan.
 
 
Dinny ran up the gangplank, Finn right after.
 
 
Captain! Captain!
shrieked sailors and warband alike, even as the massive Troll reached for Aravan.
 
 
But then, in a silver flash of light, Valké exploded forward in a hammer of wings, and Long Tom shouted to the crewmen with the boarding axes, “Now!”
 
 
Chnk! Whnk!
The axes sheared through mooring lines, and in the river current and tethered by the anchor upstream, the
Eroean
slowly began to swing away from the pier, the gangplank to slam down onto the stone.
 
 
Howling in frustration at being denied the prey that had suddenly turned into a bird, the Trolls thundered forward, racing for the ship.
 
 
“Hold, hold,” called Brekk to the Châkka at the ballistas.
 
 
Even as Brekk gave that command, Valké swooped to the deck, but from a bright flare ’twas Aravan who landed afoot.
 
 
In that same moment, the
Eroean
stopped swinging outward, and she lay off some fifty feet from the dock, where she fared at the end of the anchored hawser in the flow of the Dukong.
 
 
Aravan called for Desault and, as the chirurgeon came running, Aravan turned to see where the Rûpt had gotten to, just as the two charging Ogrus in the lead reached the pier and could not stop, and, shrieking in fear, they slid across the stone and into the water.
 
 
Down like rocks they plummeted, their massive bones too heavy for them to be able to swim. And in water forty-seven feet deep, they clawed at the vertical rock face of the pier, but found no purchase. They fought one another, trying to climb each other’s back and, still struggling, they drowned.
 
 
Even as those first two fell into the river, the remaining pair of Trolls managed to stop ere doing so.
 
 
“Loose!” cried Brekk.
 
 
T-thunn!
sang two ballistas, and fireballs smashed into the Ogrus and set them ablaze. Shrieking and burning, unable to cast off the tarlike clinging fire, back toward the oncoming rout they fled.
 
 
“Loose!” cried Dokan.
 
 
T-thun!
two more ballistas sang, hurling lances to slam through each of the fleeing Ogrus, and yet aflame, they fell slain.
 
 
“So much for the Trolls,” grunted Brekk.
 
 
But still, there were two hundred Spawn to deal with.
 
 
Desault, his satchel in hand, reached Aravan. “Are you hurt, Captain? Wounded?”
 
 
“Nay, Desault. But James is wounded, and as soon as we can, we must return to his side.”
 
 
“He yet lives?”
 
 
“Aye, he does. And if the Spaunen think he does not, then there is a chance he will survive this battle.”
 
 
Even as Aravan spoke, black-shafted arrows and heavy slingstones flew at the
Eroean
, to be answered by arrows and crossbow quarrels in return.
 
 
Sling bullets, too, hammered into the Foul Folk, as again and again Pipper rose up from behind the railing and let fly. “Got one!” he shouted. “That makes six in all.”
 
 
“Pish!” sneered Binkton in return, loosing another arrow. “Seven for me.”
 
 
As Pipper squatted behind cover to load another sling bullet, he scanned the deck. “Scout!” he blurted.
 
 
Binkton, also squatting to nock another arrow, growled.
 
 
“What I mean, Bink, is, Where’s Lissa?”
 
 
Now Binkton looked about. “Didn’t she and Vex come running up the gangplank?”
 
 
“I don’t think so.”
 
 
“Well, she’s got to be here somewhere,” said Binkton, though the bleak look in his eyes claimed otherwise. He rose up and loosed another arrow. It flew wide of its intended target.
 
 
But grume-coated Ruchen arrows hissed among the crew, and some fell pierced, crying out in shock and pain. Others fell with bones broken by heavy slingstones. Desault and his aide rushed thither and yon, and Aravan and Aylis joined the chirurgeon, and they stanched the flow and cleansed away grume and administered sops of ease for those in dire need.
 
 
Arrows and sling bullets flew from ship to shore, to be answered in kind in reverse. The ballistas sang, and fire fell among the Grg, though for the most part the flaming missiles were dodged.
 
 
But then a great howl of elation rose up from the Spawn.
 
 
“Kapitan! Kapitan!” shouted Nikolai. “Look!”
 
 
Aravan gazed toward where Nikolai pointed.
 
 
Out among the tall foliage, a burning Troll wrenched upright. Aflame and fully skewered by a ballista-flung lance, the Troll jerked to its feet.
 
 
“Wot th’ . . . ?” Long Tom gaped at the fiery apparition.
 
 
Aylis muttered an arcane word, and with her she peered at the jerking, wrenching Ogru just as it took up a large slab of stone and juddered about to come toward the ship.
 
 
“Aravan, it is not alive,” she called. “There must be a Necromancer near.”
 
 
“Where away?” called Aravan.
 
 
“I cannot him. I ween he is shielding himself from my .”
 
 
Bearing the heavy stone, the Troll afire—its flesh sizzling and popping, greasy gray smoke swirling upward from the blaze—lumbered toward the pier.
 
 
“Oh, Gralon, but Oi do think he’s thinkin’ o’ throwin’ that monstrous rock at us, Oi do,” cried Long Tom. “He be aimin’ t’ hole th’ hull.”
 
 
Swiftly cranking, the Châkka recocked the ballistas. “Lade stone!” cried Dokan.
 
 
“Stone?” asked a nearby Châk, even as he reached for one of the granite balls.
 
 
“Neither fire nor spear has slowed him,” growled Dokan. “Mayhap we can break him apart.”
 
 
Again, the Foul Folk erupted in jubilation, and aboard the ship Pipper said, “Adon, Adon, look,” as the second burning Ogru wrenched itself up out from the tall foliage growing along the shore.
 
 
Arrows and sling bullets flew, all to no effect against the first of these hideous creatures.
 
 
Thunn!
sang the ballista, and the rocky missile hurtled through the air to strike the burning, spear-pierced, slab-bearing Troll along the left side of its abdomen, punching through, leaving a gaping wound behind. As the monster staggered sidewise a step, viscera slid out from the hole to hiss and sputter in the fire. Yet in spite of his entrails spilling forth to burn, the creature recovered and lumbered on.
 
 
“If ye can, take off its head,” commanded Aravan.
 
 
Châkka adjusted the aim.
 
 
Thunn!
 
 
“Kruk! Missed!”
 
 
As the Spawn jeered and flew arrows at the crew, onto the pier thudded the Troll, the second Troll afire following yards behind, a small boulder in its grasp.
 
 
“Kapitan, cut hawser?”
 
 
“Nay, Nikolai. They will throw ere we move away.”
 
 
T-thunn!
Two more ballistas loosed, one to miss, the other to slam into the first dead thing’s right shoulder. It dropped the slab to the pier, and jerkily stooped to pick it up. And still the second Troll came on.

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