Fifthwind (10 page)

"Mason,
I can't help you!" Ben cried. He chanced a quick glance to where
Mason had last been and saw nothing but a vacant space on the floor.
A crashing sound grabbed his attention as he saw Mason hurl his
attacker through the table.

"I
can take care of myself!" Mason called back as he stomped off
toward the disoriented creature.

Ben
returned his attention to the beast before him just as it charged in
a terrifying frenzy. He half-stepped to his right and lashed out with
a low sweeping blow that made contact near the creature's knee, the
resulting howl of pain communicating his success. He squared off
against his now wounded opponent and stared into its inhuman yellow
eyes, where, to his satisfaction, he saw astonishment.

"Surprise!"
Ben sneered pointedly.

Ben
was unsure how Mason was doing and could not risk another look around
to find out, but the sound of fighting behind him revealed that at
least Mason was still alive. Ben took advantage of his opponent's new
wound and pressed forward offensively.

The
creature blocked Ben's first overhead attack with the blade that
arced along the back of its forearm. Seeing Ben's exposed midsection,
it drove a sharp jab toward his ribcage. Ben twisted to the side and
felt the stinging cut along his ribs, but knew he had avoided the
worst of the blow.

He
allowed the stroke to follow its course even though it would mean a
deeper cut. The creature soon overextended itself and Ben found
himself on the preferred side of the hopeless beast. He reversed his
grip on his sword and spun backward with the tip of the blade
extending beyond his elbow. With a firm thrust, he impaled it deep
into the creature's unprotected shoulder. The creature howled in pain
and toppled defenselessly on its side grasping at the wound. Ben
pulled the blade free and raised it overhead for a killing blow
against the severely injured beast. But it never reached home.

A
powerful blow struck him squarely between the shoulder blades and
knocked him to the ground. He groaned in agony and reeled to see that
a third creature now stood threateningly above him. He managed to get
his sword up in time to deflect a slash that certainly would have
killed him. Ben scrambled backward on his hands and heels in an
attempt to gain enough room to stand, but the creature was fast and
kept stride with Ben until he backed himself against the wall.

He
rolled to the side to avoid another slice and was able to get to one
knee. The creature immediately rewarded him for the effort with a
devastating elbow to the face which smashed Ben backward into the
wall and caused him to drop his blade. Stunned, he watched helplessly
as the beast slashed out at him.

The
undefended attack hit with full impact and cut deep into his upper
arm sending his mind plummeting in pain. He almost succumbed to the
anguish, but he knew that if he did not act fast the next blow would
kill him. He groped for his sword and used it to steady himself as he
strained to get to his feet, his legs still wobbling beneath him. The
room swirled around him and his vision began to fade as the scene
before him went gray.

In
a moment of delirium, Ben saw a robed figure standing behind the left
shoulder of the beast. A spectator to the violence and apparently
unconcerned about the chaos of churning danger within the confined
space. The creature moved forward to attack and blocked Ben's view of
the man in gray.

He
felt himself drifting away and frantically fought to maintain his
focus. He aimlessly struck out at the form above and heard the chime
of steel against steel. He sensed from the position of the
counterstrike, that the creature had left itself open to a less
deadly option. In that realization, Ben found his prize.

He
kicked out with all the strength he could muster and buried his foot
into the creature's stomach. The air exploded from its lungs and it
staggered back. Ben used that instant to get to his feet. His mind
swam as he zeroed in on the image of the creature.

It
was hunched over, clutching its stomach in a defenseless posture as
it lifted its eyes to the terrible realization of its fate. Ben
showed no mercy, his sword came down hard and ended its life. The
limp body of the beast fell to the floor.

Ben
gasped in relief and stumbled, almost losing his balance. He took a
moment to catch his breath, and then surveyed the room. Somehow, he
was not surprised to find that the mysterious, gray-robed watcher was
gone, if he had ever been there to begin with.

Mason
was in the opposite corner, cursing loudly and beating back an
endless stream of blows. Ben collected his wits and moved to help
him. Suddenly, he sensed movement from behind and jumped up just as
the wounded creature, that he had left on the floor earlier, swiped
at his feet. The blade met nothing but air where Ben had stood just a
second before.

Ben
landed just out of reach of the crippled beast and looked down on it
with disgust. The creature shrieked in anger and clawed at him, but
went silent when Ben's blade met the floorboards beneath its chest.

He
pulled his blade free and turned. His vision was clearing but he felt
lightheaded and everything still looked gray. He focused his
attention on Mason who was pinned in a corner blocking blow after
vicious blow from the last of the beasts.

Mason
had put himself into a corner and was defending the position well.
The creature was unable to step from side to side and Mason knew that
every attack would have to come from the front. Of course, the same
held true of his own attacks, but at the moment, he was not concerned
about offense. Ben gathered his strength and marched toward the
unsuspecting foe.

Blood
covered both the creature and Mason, though it was difficult to tell
which one had bled more. Mason seemed to have lost the use of his
left arm and grunted heavily as he blocked each attack. A look of
exhausted relief eased over his face when he saw Ben positioned for a
strike.

"Thank
goodness..." Mason breathed.

With
as much force as he could gather, Ben plowed a heavy blow from high
overhead into the creature's back.

It
did not die. Instead, it spun and glared warning at Ben. It curled
its lip and snarled, flashing its teeth in a show of defiance. Its
face looked like a man's, but twisted by hate and deformed by
wickedness. Its piecing yellow eyes burned with the fire of madness.
In them, however, Ben could see a clever intellect. This was no mere
animal.

The
creature heaved up its chest and stood tall. It flexed its huge
muscles and attacked with a forceful swipe that could easily cleave
any man in two. The speed of the approaching blade was a blur but Ben
stood rigid before it and without moving an inch, deflected the blow
easily.

The
creature whipped around to meet the counterattack and found that Ben
had not taken advantage of the opening. Instead, Ben just stood in
rigid confidence, welcoming the creatures next move.

Angered
by the ease of Ben's defensive maneuver, it stabbed out again, this
time with a sweeping attack to his midsection. Like before, Ben
stepped aside gracefully and cleanly deflected the blade. The
momentum of the creature's attack sent it spinning off balance and
again, it threw up its arms in defense to Ben's impending strike and
was met with nothing. Infuriated by the humiliating show of
superiority, it hissed in anger and lifted its head to glare at Ben.

The
beast shrank back as if frightened.

It
scrambled to get away and discovered it was trapped between the
fireplace and the wall. Finding nowhere to retreat, it attacked
again, but Ben casually slapped away the feeble attempt and
positioned himself for an offensive strike.

The
creature never took its eyes off Ben as it growled in outrage. When
Ben raised his blade, it saw the slightest opening and rushed past
him for the door. As it fled the cottage, Ben swore he heard the
creature hiss a single word.

"Fahd!"
echoed in his ears as the creature disappeared into the night.

A
blanket of blackness passed over Ben, and he collapsed.

CHAPTER NINE

Ben
groped in the dark. Struggling against a sticky void that clung to
him like tar, he waded toward consciousness. Slowly, the darkness
gave way to light, and the next thing he saw was William Babbitt
hovering over him. Not immediately recognizing the friendly face, he
instinctively reached for his sword.

"Hold
still!" William said, pushing him back firmly with one hand. Ben
cringed as the holy man tightened a bandage around his ribs. He
looked down and saw that wounds on his thigh and left shoulder had
also been bound.

"Mason..."
Ben insisted, trying to get up once more.

"I'm
alright," said Mason, coming into view. Blood-soaked bandages
wrapped his forearms and dried blood and grime covered his face. He
looked like a man who had been caught in a torrential rain of death.
He looked down at his hands, both front and back, and muttered, "At
least I think I am."

William
finished his work and washed his hands in a small bowl at Ben's feet,
drying them on a towel hanging over one shoulder. He used the same
towel to wipe the dampness from his own forehead, then tossed it
aside and went about gathering his things. He wrapped up a small
leather pouch of intricate medical tools ranging from tiny curved
knives to hook-shaped needles. There were other tools that looked
more like instruments of torture that Ben had no desire to see used
on him. Lastly, he returned a selection of herbs and pasty salves to
his nearby pack along with the small, stone bowl he had used to grind
the ingredients.

Most
field missioners were adept in the healing arts. There was no better
way to earn respect, and therefore a following, than by healing the
wounded. Ben had seen many missioners ranging from miraculous to
incompetent. Babbitt seemed to be well on the capable side of that
equation.

He
checked that the bandages on Ben's arm and ribs were not too tight.
"There, that should do for now. The stitches should allow for a
quick healing, but keep it bandaged. Should it become infected, there
may be little I can do. You two are lucky that I heard the commotion
and came along when I did."

"You
just happened by?" Ben asked.

"I
was going back to the temple after an evening in town and just as I
crested the hill I heard screaming. So I ran down here to
investigate."

Mason
said, "When that last creature fled, it almost ran headlong into
Brother Babbitt. He was just outside the door." Mason chuckled,
"Then, when I rushed through the door in pursuit, I scared him so
much that he tried to run away too."

Babbitt
laughed and added, "I didn't stop shaking until he put away the
sword and promised not to hurt me."

Mason
said, "You certainly found yourself in the wrong place at the wrong
time."

"Had
I arrived even a second sooner, that... thing would have run me
down." He gathered up the rest of his belongings and stood.
"Anyway, Mason persuaded me to help. So we ran back to the temple
for my healing kit and returned here as fast as my legs could carry
me."

"We
were hurt, maybe dying, and you needed persuasion?"

"I
was frightened!" William shouted in his own defense.

"Frightened?
Your healing skills betray you, Brother," Ben said. "I can tell
you've seen combat before... you know the horrors well. Pain and
death are not unknown to you."

"Yes,
I've seen men kill and be killed. The stupidity of soldiers is
something I'm quite familiar with. But I've never seen an unholy
abomination like that," William said, indicating the inhuman corpse
on the floor. "What do you think it is?"

Ben
ignored the question. He struggled to his feet and looked around the
room. "Tad?"

Mason
shook his head and said, "He never had a chance."

Babbitt
was quick to add, "It's true. I did everything I could, but his
injuries were too great."

Mason
said, "Brother Babbitt did what he could to ease his pain, but the
Captain died quickly. He was never able to speak."

Ben
lowered his head, "I'm sorry, Mason."

The
soldier's face was a solemn mask. "Brother Babbitt helped me bury
him as soon as he had your condition stabilized."

"What
was the hurry?"

"He
was pretty torn up, Ben! He didn't deserve to be left in a bloody
heap on the floor. Certainly not in the corner of this filthy prison.
Bolted doors, boarded windows..."

Ben
nodded. "I understand. Before we head back to town you must show me
the spot so I can pay my respects."

Ben
noticed the odd angle of the sunlight coming through the hole that
had once been a window. "How long was I out?"

Mason
answered, "Almost a full day. It'll be dark again soon and I don't
want to spend another night out here."

Ben
walked to the nearest creature and rolled over the dead beast with
his foot. The three men stood in stunned silence at what they saw. In
the delirium of combat, Ben had not noticed the finer details. Now
that the thing was motionless before them, there was no doubt that
the term ‘creature' was appropriate.

It
had smooth, gray skin and less hair than Ben had originally thought,
most of it running down the creatures back and along the arms. It was
not quite as big as Mason, but was easily more muscular. With
abnormally long arms and strangely short legs, it appeared very
dog-like except for the face, which was remotely human though
contorted into a deformed grimace. It was a large and capable killer
and the fact that it wore armor on its shoulders, forearms, and back
indicated it possessed some level of intelligence. But a thick metal
collar around its neck somehow made the beast look like an animal.