Lorik The Defender (The Lorik Trilogy) (16 page)

Lorik finally came out of his mental stupor and noticed the sound of the approaching monsters. He glanced over his shoulder and saw a dozen of the flying creatures closing in on him, their long hair streaming out behind them, their open mouths revealing their pointed, black teeth. Lorik knew he could run, but he didn’t know how fast the Leffers could fly. He’d never retreated from them before, but he’d never fought so many at once all by himself.

He turned, drawing both his swords and charged toward them. He guessed it was the last thing the horrible creatures expected him to do. He had to feint to his left then dive to his right to avoid the strike of the nearest creature’s scorpion tail. He spun, extending his arm and the massive sword as he turned. The blade tore into the horse flesh just behind the creature’s foreleg, then it rattled along the beast’s ribs like a child banging a wooden sword along a row of fence posts. The Leffer reared away from the sword and crashed into the creature to its right. Lorik turned and found another Leffer approaching. His new foe reared, its heavy hooves pawing at the air while its tail dropped low and swung at Lorik from the side. He jumped backwards and slashed his sword down, lopping off the bulbous stinger from the segmented, scorpion tail. The Leffer shrieked in agony and shock, but Lorik didn’t have time to relish his victory. The other Leffers were circling around, trying to cut off his escape. Little did they know that escape wasn’t Lorik’s plan.

He dashed past the two wounded creatures, moving closer to the approaching army rather than away from it. The surprised monsters were forced to turn. They flew just above the ground, their bodies held aloft by the large, filmy wings that buzzed like dragonflies. Fortunately for Lorik, the Leffers couldn’t maneuver like a dragonfly. They were fast enough in one direction and could angle after their prey without slowing, but turning around took much longer. Lorik sprinted ahead, attacking the slower creatures from the rear. He didn’t bother trying to kill each one; instead he slashed through their rear legs, severing some, crippling others.

He was soon covered in hot, black blood, but half of the dozen Leffers were wounded and out of the fight. Lorik kept the writhing bodies of the wounded creatures between himself and the others who still sought to capture or kill him. Even though the creatures could still fly without their legs, the wounds Lorik had inflicted were bad enough that they dropped to the ground, roaring in pain and anger.

Lorik slowly backed away, using the time to hook his swords together. The Swords of Acromin had special handles that locked together to create a double ended sword with a long handle in the middle. Lorik spun the weapon around his massive body.

“Come on then, you bastards!” he shouted.

The uninjured Leffers spread out around their wounded and came forward more slowly. Lorik hadn’t known the creatures to use strategy in the past and he hadn’t heard anything from them that sounded like communication. They growled and roared, they even screeched in agony when he wounded or killed them, but they didn’t talk. Still, they seemed to be pairing up, which would make his job much more difficult. Lorik also noticed that more of the Leffers were coming forward to join the fight, and the mutated army was plodding on and on, drawing closer to Lorik each moment he waited.

He needed to get back to the castle and mobilize everyone. He realized they would not be prepared to flee. All their work had been to fortify the castle for an attack. He needed to get back and get everyone moving away from the castle.

He mentally kicked himself for not returning to Ort City at speed once he realized the danger the evil army posed his small group of volunteers. If he’d run back, he doubted that the Leffers would have caught up to him, at least not while he was close enough to the massive army that reinforcements could have joined the fight. But in the back of his mind, he knew that he had been spoiling for a fight. He’d promised Vera that he would be careful, but the truth was he walked when he could have run because he wanted to be attacked. He wanted a reason to vent his frustration and take the fight to his enemies rather than waiting for them to come to him.

At the pace the army seemed to be moving, Lorik guessed they would arrive at Ort City around nightfall. He didn’t know what they would do then, perhaps besiege the city, or even fight through the night. But Lorik did know that his small force wasn’t enough to slow the massive horde of mutated fighters. The Leffers would fly over the walls, just as they did when Queen Issalyn was there. Most of the castle’s defenses would be pointless against the flying creatures. Even if Lorik’s volunteers managed to fend off the Leffers, the mutated army would cut off their escape.

Lorik decided to flee. It wasn’t in his nature to run from a fight, but he had to consider the men who were counting on him to lead them in this fight. There would be plenty of time to wage war, but only if he could warn his friends and allies of the massive army approaching.

He turned to sprint away, hoping the Leffers wouldn’t be able to catch him or match his pace for long, but, his first step landed in a small hole. It was the den of some innocent creature, perhaps a rabbit had burrowed down into the soft soil for safety. Lorik’s foot sank into the hole and twisted painfully as he fell. He cried out, but there was no time to worry over his injury. He rolled to his knees and glanced at the Leffers who were getting closer by the second. They had spread out and were coming at him from three different directions. If they closed on him, he would be overcome in seconds.

He got to his feet. His ankle wasn’t broken, even though he knew that any normal man’s leg would have snapped easily from such a fall, but it felt weak and every step sent lightning strikes of pain up his leg. He ignored the pain and limped away from the approaching monsters. Every step hurt, but he couldn’t worry about it, he had to keep moving. If he stopped, he knew he would die.

The Leffers, sensing his weakness increased their pace. They flew with steady speed, but two of the creatures came down to the ground, folding their wings against their bodies and using their massive legs to gallop forward. The Leffers were much faster on the ground. The thundering hoof beats reminded Lorik of the big Shire horses he’d owned as a teamster. The big horses rarely ran, and when they did they weren’t all that fast, but they were incredibly hard to stop.

Lorik kept moving away, but a glance over his shoulder made it clear he couldn’t outrun the Leffers that were galloping toward him, not with his ankle injured. He cursed his bad luck, then turned to make a stand against the creatures. He bent his knees and raised his sword across his body, trying to think of how he might defend himself.

The Leffers closed in and Lorik prepared himself. His muscles bunched as he prepared to leap to the side. He guessed that the massive horse bodies that were thundering toward him couldn’t stop easily, if he could dodge away, he might buy himself enough time to attack them as they turned back for him. His body was tight as every muscle flexed in preparation, like a tightly coiled spring waiting to launch himself out of the path of the galloping monsters. But, to his dismay the Leffers separated, anticipating his maneuver, so that there was no chance for him to leap to one side out of the way of the rushing creatures. His plan had been to move to one side, so that only one of the creatures could effectively strike out at him, while the other would be blocked by its companion. By separating, they cut off his escape. He saw the deadly tails lower; they were like curved sickles waiting to cut him down like ripe grain.

Lorik knew he couldn’t jump to the side and escape, so instead he waited until the very last second. He knew he had to time his maneuver just right or he would be killed, or even worse captured and mutated like the other wretched souls in the witch’s army. Using the massive strength in his good leg, he jumped straight up just as the Leffers reached him. They raced past as Lorik somersaulted in the air and came back down. His sprained ankle gave out underneath him as he landed and he fell to his hands and knees, almost dropping his sword as a wave of pain washed through him.

Then he was up, hobbling toward the two Leffers who were sliding to a halt so they could turn and attack again. The others were still closing, their buzzing wings made his head seem to rattle, but he ignored everything except the fight ahead. The Leffers turned, moving in sync, just as Lorik reached them. He dropped under the strike of the nearest monster’s tail, rolling over his shoulder and coming up on his good leg. He thrust his sword out to the side, driving it up and into the human chest of the monster. It fell with a crash as Lorik hopped around to face the other Leffer.

The dead creature lay twitching at Lorik’s feet, its tail still thrashing in the air. Its companion tried to dart forward, but Lorik merely hobbled back, keeping the body of the Leffer between him and his remaining enemy. When the creature took to the air, flying up and over its fallen partner, Lorik moved again, this time to the rear of the defeated monster. The flying creature tried to follow him and was stabbed in the side by the fallen Leffer’s flailing stinger. Lorik had no idea if the stinger would pump venom since the creature was dead, or if it would even have an effect on the other Leffer, but to his surprise the attacking creature’s body went stiff, then it dropped to the ground with a crash.

Lorik didn’t wait to see if the creature was dead or alive. He turned and ran as fast as his injured leg would carry him. Pain erupted with every step. His good leg was soon burning from the exertion. Before hurting his ankle, he could run for hours without feeling tired. Now, it seemed his endurance had evaporated. Perhaps it was the injury, or possibly the fear. His heart was pounding and as he glanced over his shoulder, he saw the other four Leffers closing in.

He topped a small rise and turned to make his stand. His ankle was hurting more with every step and he knew that soon it would be difficult to support his weight on that leg. The Leffers were close, they had regrouped and were coming at him all together. The four creatures flew quickly toward Lorik, who was wracking his brain to come up with a strategy to defeat them.

He unfastened his swords and sheathed them both in one smooth motion. Then he drew his dagger, which was a small handled weapon, with a simple brass hand guard. The blade of the dagger was tapered and razor sharp. The blade was as long as a grown man’s forearm, from wrist to elbow. He felt the dagger’s weight. It wasn’t made for throwing, but he had no choice. He held the dagger by the blade and then threw it. It flew end over end, spinning toward the nearest Leffer, who saw it coming and swayed aside, letting the weapon fly harmlessly by. Lorik had expected as much. Fortunately the Leffer behind the leader hadn’t seen the attack and couldn’t move away fast enough. The dagger sank deep into its shoulder and the creature roared in pain, rearing as its front hooves pawed the air and the back hooves staggered to the ground. Lorik didn’t know if the creature was out of the fight, but at least he’d succeeded in slowing it down.

He drew his knife with his left hand. Lorik always carried a knife. It was a short, utility weapon, more tool than anything else. The blade was fat and sharpened on just one side. There was nothing fancy about it, but it could still cause some damage. Lorik knew the same strategy wouldn’t work a second time. He held the knife in his left, ready to throw it, but drew a sword with his right hand and waited until the creatures were close enough to engage.

It only took a couple of seconds for the Leffers to fly the remaining distance between them. Lorik wished he had a spear, or even better a horse to ride away on. Normally he could run faster and longer than a horse, but with his ankle sprained, he was slow and clumsy. The Leffers began to spread out just enough to give themselves room to fight. They rose in the air so that they were higher than Lorik, even though he was on the top of a slight rise. The big warrior knew he had one shot to defeat the Leffers; if his plan didn’t work, he was done for.

He feinted to his left, then to his right. The Leffers had expected the first feint, but fell for the second. They struck toward where they thought he would be, but Lorik dodged back to his left. He used his sword to knock away the Leffer’s tail on the beast to his left. Then he threw the knife toward the Leffer in the center and dove down the slight rise. He landed on his side and kept rolling, like a child playing on a hill. He rolled until he thought he was past the creatures and then rose to his feet, hobbling on his good leg.

The center Leffer had been hit with the knife, but it didn’t seem to slow the creature. They were all turning slowly to rejoin the fight. Lorik dashed forward, ignoring the pain in his leg and slashing at the nearest Leffer. His sword cut a gash across the back legs of the Leffer, who dropped instantly onto its side. Lorik was rushing toward the center Leffer, hoping to cut it down as well, but suddenly the legs shot out toward him. All his life his father had warned Lorik about not startling horses from behind and about being careful around horses, but the big warrior had not expected the kick. One hoof connected with the center of Lorik’s chest. It knocked him back several yards and he landed hard on the ground, rolling and losing his sword. He lay still for a moment, struggling to refill his lungs with air.

The other Leffers completed their turn and were almost on top of Lorik before he moved. He spun to one side, dodging a tail strike from the nearest Leffer and drawing his second sword at the same time. He was close to the Leffer who still had Lorik’s knife buried to the hilt in its side. Lorik slashed down with his sword as the beast’s scorpion tail rose up for another strike. The sword slashed down through the beast’s wings, severing them and causing the Leffer to crash to the ground on its side. Lorik couldn’t get out of the way fast enough and the falling creature knocked him to the ground and landed on his wounded ankle.