Ben
only managed a last-second defensive posture and blocked the massive
swiping forearm with his sword, absorbing the full force of the
attack, and was hurtled backward against the wall. Shaking off the
dizzying blow, he pushed to his feet as quickly as he could, fearing
that the creature had already overtaken Paul. He was ironically
satisfied to find that the creature showed little interest in the
boy. Instead, it was he that was the object of its attention.
The
creature was immensely strong and Ben wasn't sure how much more of a
beating he would be able to take. If he was going to survive, he
would have to be more aggressive in his tactics. He would have to
turn the tables and take the offensive. Seeming to read Ben's mind,
the Murg stopped and looked at him defiantly, curling its lip and
growling as if daring Ben to attack.
Ben
gauged the creature to be a full head taller and nearly a hundred
pounds heavier than the biggest man he had ever faced in combat; even
Mason would seem small in comparison. He would have to rely on his
speed and agility to get in close, strike successfully and retreat
before being met again with those massive arms.
He
planted his feet in preparation, but before he could set his plan
into motion, he spotted Paul coming up from behind the creature with
his fire-poker held high and ready to strike. In that single,
heart-stopping moment, Ben was unable to prevent the inevitable.
"No!"
Ben shouted, but was too late.
The
creature flung its head back and howled in pain as Paul drove the
hot, iron tool down the creature's back. It was not a weapon that
would cripple the beast, though it was apparent that it had suffered
a nasty wound. In reflex, it turned and swiped blindly at the
unprepared boy and its bladed forearm caught Paul squarely on the
wrist, severing the hand that held the poker. Both hand and tool fell
to the floor as one.
Paul's
eyes widened in horror at the traumatic sight of his dismembered hand
and at the realization that the Murg's next blow would kill him. Ben
launched himself toward the creature's exposed back, but knew that he
would never make it in time. As the beast welled up in preparation
for a powerful back hand at its helpless victim, Ben felt a surge of
pressure building in the room.
The
air turned dry and bitter, and the hairs on his arms stood on end as
a swirling breeze overtook the scene. He had felt this before, but
not nearly so intense. His ears popped to equalize the pressure as
the air was drawn away as if a giant bellows had inhaled.
Even
the Murg hesitated in mid-swing, as Kyla stepped forward with her
outstretched hands and icy gaze. Entwined in invisible strands of
energy, she focused her attention on the Murg. Her frame was rigid as
she struggled to contain the Fifthwind, a force that was boiling up
to be freed from within her.
Then,
in an explosive release, a wave of force hit the beast so violently
it was thrown against the stone wall beneath the stairs. The strength
of the impact probably broke its back, but the creature glared
arrogantly at Kyla who, with the force of her will, held it pinned to
the wall, its feet dangling off the ground.
She
stepped again toward the beast and thrust her hands forward,
increasing the force until both bone and stone succumbed to the
pressure. The creature's body cracked under the growing tension until
it burst through the crumbling wall and into the next room, where it
came to rest... broken and motionless.
A
secondary collapse left a much larger, gaping hole, partially
damaging the staircase above. The new opening rose from the floor to
the second level, and was wide enough for four men to walk through
abreast.
In
a moment of pure emotion, Kyla had harnessed the Fifthwind at a level
that had nearly taken down the entire building. Ben chanced a quick
glance in her direction, and saw that she had fallen to her knees,
weakened by the episode. Vincent was tending to her and waved to Ben
reassuringly, then pointed toward the exposed wall, where a cloud of
stone dust settled enough to reveal William Babbitt kneeling in
prayer and oblivious to the destruction around him.
Before
worrying about the breached wall, Ben turned his attention to Paul.
His mother had pulled him to the corner and was in the process of
tightening a knot over the boy's bleeding wrist. Paul winced in pain,
but managed a slight grin when he saw that Ben was watching.
A
quick scan of the rest of the room told Ben that the other two Murg
had finally been killed as well. The residents of Kishell Springs
gathered around the bodies of the slain beasts and murmured in
hushed, uncertain tones over what they were seeing. He realized that
in another few moments, the reality of the situation would grip them
and there would be an onslaught of new questions. Hearing of the Murg
was one thing, but seeing them for the first time was another thing
altogether.
Ben
shouted to the room in general, "Everyone back to your posts.
Double check the doors and find out how those things got in here.
Then, do whatever it takes to see that it doesn't happen again. This
isn't over, there are more of them outside." There was no longer
any distinction in his mind between the soldiers and the townsfolk.
They were all in this together, and if they wanted to live, they
would have to follow orders.
He
didn't savor the idea of dealing with a mob of frightened and
confused civilians. So, he instead occupied himself with an
assessment of the damaged staircase. The violent collapse of the
stone wall beneath the second floor landing had damaged the stairs to
a degree, but the wall was not entirely necessary to support them. He
judged the stairs to be stable enough for the moment.
Ben
then noticed that the exposed room beyond the breached wall was one
he was unfamiliar with. The room had been a sealed space between the
main hearth and the rear stockroom. Despite the obvious lack of a
door leading in, William Babbitt sat in the middle of the small
space, covered with dust and in a meditative state, far removed from
his surroundings.
How
William could be unaware of such devastation around him was beyond
Ben's comprehension. Prayer or not, the thundering destruction of a
heavy wall, and the beast crumpled on the floor, should have startled
even the most devout. Ben shook his head. The noise alone could have
awakened the dead.
He
stepped through the rubble, and approached the kneeling holy man who
did not seem aware of Ben's presence. Other than the newly created
opening in the wall, there were no doors leading into the space, but
a closer examination revealed a trap door in the floor similar to the
one in the back storeroom that lead to Vincent's library.
"Wake
up!" Ben said with a light kick to William's foot. "It's over
now. No need to pray."
William
only responded with a furrowed brow as if he didn't appreciate being
disturbed.
"Get
up!" Ben said, leaning over and shaking him more forcefully with a
strong grip to his shoulder. It took several shakes to the meditating
man, before a set of shocked eyes snapped open. It took a moment for
William to orientate himself and realize his surroundings. His eyes
almost immediately came to rest on the dead Murg lying but a few feet
in front of him. He then noticed the gaping hole in the wall.
"How
did that get in here?" he said in an agitated tone and still
somewhat dazed.
"I
think it's more important to ask, how you got in here. Only that
trapdoor in the floor leads in or out of this room, and no one seems
to have known about it except you."
"It's
never been all that important," William answered. "As you can
see, it doesn't lead anywhere. I accessed this room from the same
passage as the one below the stockroom. I'm sure Jimmy knows about
it."
"What
are you doing in here?"
William
got to his feet and gingerly stepped around the dead beast on the
floor. "When I heard the commotion upstairs, I decided to hide. I
was frightened, and came here to pray for our safety."
Ben
was angry, but it was not the existence of this newfound room that
bothered him most; as William had pointed out, it didn't lead
anywhere, so it would not have been an access point that needed to be
guarded. What bothered him was that he had not been told about it.
"Kyla
may need your help, she exhausted herself trying to find you." Ben
said sarcastically, indicating the large hole that led back to the
common room.
William
Babbitt smiled at Ben's jest and then glanced back down at the dead
Murg on the floor. He chuckled, "She's getting better."
"Go
check on her, and don't go off hiding again. I don't want to have to
come looking for you next time."
The
chubby holy man leaned tentatively toward the opening in the wall and
peered out into the common room. "Is it safe?"
"No.
Not until morning, and that's hours away." Ben was starting to lose
his patience with the cowardly cleric. Other than his healing skills,
the self-proclaimed celebrant of The Two Sisters was often more
trouble than he was worth.
Paul
hurried around the corner, "Sir, there's word from the observers
upstairs. The Murg are pulling back."
Ben
let his eyes fall on the boy's stubbed wrist and hesitated with a
loss of words. He had seen many such injuries before, but never on
one so young. The boy had fought bravely and had paid a heavy price.
It was a price he would continue to pay in hardship for the rest of
his life, provided he survived the fever and infection that would
soon set in. Maybe Babbitt could yet prove his worth after all. He
realized he was staring, and lifted his eyes apologetically.
"It's
not your fault," said Paul, in a surprisingly calm tone. "I'll be
alright." The young man then turned and scampered away. Never
before had Ben seen such bravery and selflessness in one so young.
The boy's life had just been changed forever with the loss of a
hand... and he was more concerned about Ben's feelings. Courage often
revealed itself, Ben thought, in the most unexpected places.
"Why
would the Murg be pulling back so early?" Ben asked himself as he
headed for the stairs.
Once
he reached the third level, he joined the others at an eastward
facing window. Outside, he saw that Mason and a dozen men were out in
the mall, moving among the nearby buildings and clearing the area. A
few of his men had one of the beasts pinned against the wall of
Harry's Hideout. Under normal circumstances, Ben would have ordered
that this enemy be taken alive for questioning, but that would be
like interrogating an animal, nothing could be gained from it. A
second later, the beast was dead in the snow.
From
below, Mason spotted Ben and cupped his hands to shout, "They're
pulling back, but there's still a few skulking around."
Ben
turned to his men. "Get out there and help Sergeant Corde. Follow
his orders in my absence." He turned back to the window and
shouted, "I'll be down in a minute."
Ben
made his way downstairs and surveyed the aftermath in the Masked Pig.
One of his men had not survived the attack in the common room, along
with two villagers who had also been killed. There were several
injuries being tended to, and of course, there was Paul's loss of a
hand. Greggor and Trent were organizing an effort to remove the three
Murg bodies. Kyla was awake and appeared to be doing well, but was
busy helping those who were hurt, frightened, or just in need of a
friendly face. Brother Babbitt was consoling an older woman as her
unfortunate husband was being wrapped in linen. There was much to be
done, but everything looked to be in good hands. Ben made one final
scan of the room and was satisfied that he wasn't immediately needed.
Outside,
the snow was starting to pile up on the railings around The Step, but
the cold night air felt nice after the stale warmth inside the
overstuffed inn. Mason approached Ben through boot-deep snow.
"I
can't explain it," Mason said, shaking his head. "We heard
something explode over here, and then a few minutes later, they
started pulling back like they were scared."
"A
retreat. Do you think they're regrouping?"
"I
wouldn't call it a retreat at all, it was more like they were
breaking ranks. If these were men, I'd swear we had killed one of
their officers. They were disorganized like they had no leadership,
like there was no reason to keep fighting."
"Kyla
almost brought the building down, when she killed one of the big
ones. That was the crash you heard. Maybe it was their leader."
"That
was Kyla?"
Ben
nodded, understanding Mason's surprise. "She got a little upset at
one of them."
"Maybe
I should watch my manners more when I'm around her," Mason grinned.
"Anyway, they pulled back a few minutes after that."
"Rider!"
came the call of a distant voice. A soldier came into view from the
south road, running with every ounce of strength he could muster. In
short course, the young soldier sprinted up to Ben and Mason. "A
rider is coming in with Murg in pursuit!"
Ben
asked, "How far out? How many Murg?"
The
soldier curled over with his hands on his thighs breathing heavily
from his run. It took a moment for him to catch his breath enough to
speak clearly, "One horse, two riders. One man and one woman.
They're being chased by at least a dozen Murg. We've got maybe a
minute or two."
Ben
turned to the Masked Pig and called out to the upper windows,
"Archers!"
Mason
was already in motion, and was assembling what men were available on
either side of the main thoroughfare. There would not be much time to
prepare.
Ben
closed his eyes and let his mind drift from his body. In his
thoughts, he urgently moved down the dim, moonlit road that led south
out of town. It didn't take long for him to recognize the distinctive
hoof beats of a horse in a full gallop. He turned his attention to
the movement which revealed a large horse with two riders rounding
the ramparts leading into Kishell Springs with a mob of beasts racing
after them, clawing at their heels. At their speed, they would reach
the Masked Pig in less than a minute.