The Heretic: Templar Chronicles Book 1 (24 page)

He stepped through the French doors and outside onto the small balcony just beyond. The night air was redolent with the smell of the swamp and the decay of the house around him. He breathed it in deeply, loving it. Death and decay; those were his partners, and he reveled in their presence.

He looked to the south, where a large thundercloud sat fat and heavy on the horizon.

That will do nicely,
he thought with pleasure.

Raising his arms out to his sides he called out in a tongue long since dead to the world at large, a tongue he’d only just learned at the foot of his new benefactor.

From the tip of the Spear, lightning shot suddenly skyward.

In the distance, the storm turned toward him in response.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

The Blackhawks came swooping in over the trees like avenging angels, hovering over the front lawn just long enough to dispatch their cargo; and then, with the exception of the lead two birds, they retreated back out over the swamps to wait until they were needed.

Olsen and Duncan were in the first of the two choppers that had stayed behind. They circled above the property, using the high-intensity spotlight mounted under the nose of the bird to highlight threats for the ground force and communicating with them via radio. From their vantage point they could see Cade and his men join up with Bravo Team. Fanning out, the group began its advance on the nearby buildings.

“Look!” Duncan cried, pointing.

The door to the plantation house opened, and several individuals stepped out into the porch. Duncan got a good look at them through the binoculars, and what he saw made his blood run cold. He’d seen those hooded robes before, worn by the sorcerers he and Cade had faced at Stone’s; he knew what power they had at their disposal.

The battle was about to become bloody.

Olsen got on the radio to their commander. “Olsen to TOC.”

“Go, Olsen,” Cade’s gruff voice replied.

“I count five hostiles on the porch, repeat five hostiles.”

“Understood. Give the challenge, then engage at will.”

Duncan was already waiting by the switch, and when Olsen gave him the signal, he tuned the choppers communication’s system to broadcast externally.

His voice boomed out across the battlefield. “In the name of the Lord Almighty, I call upon you to relinquish your weapons and receive the mercy of Christ the King.”

In response, one of the Council members raised his fingers to his lips. The men in the Blackhawk could not hear the resulting whistle over the sound of the rotors, but the men on the ground clearly did.

For a moment, nothing moved on the battlefield.

And then, in a thundering rush, dark forms came pouring out from around the sides of the house and headed straight for the Templar formation.

The first of the corpse hounds ran through an area of the lawn illuminated by the chopper’s spotlight, and Duncan could hear the voice of the Bravo Team leader clearly over the radio in response. “What in the name of God?”

They were the size of Great Danes, but no living Dane ever looked like this. Their skin hung rotting on their frames, and their empty eye sockets seemed to blaze with an unholy light. They charged across the grounds with unnatural speed, moving unerringly toward the Knights who were advancing on the plantation house.

The Templars met the oncoming rush with brutal efficiency. They had positioned themselves in such a way as to deliver overlapping fields of fire, and their gunfire cut a swath through the enemy ranks.

Just as the Knights had discovered when fighting the revenants, these creatures were only minimally affected by the bullets that ripped through their already ravaged bodies. A few fell to lucky headshots, but the rest simply regained their feet or came on undeterred.

In seconds they would be among the Knights.

“Swords!” Cade called out over the communication’s equipment and the men of both units drew their holy blades and met the oncoming charge straight on.

Swords flashed, hounds bayed, and both men and dogs bled into the night air.

High above, Olsen and the sniper in the other Blackhawk finally entered the fray.

They targeted the Council members still standing on the porch, taking out two of them with their first shots. Before the rest could respond to the threat, Olsen had fired again, striking a third. While he did not think the second shot had been a fatal one, at least there were two less sorcerers for them to worry about.

As the rest of the Council members dove out of sight behind the portico columns, Olsen turned his attention to the battle below him, seeking new targets, firing again and again until he was forced to reload.

The battle raged on.

In the distance, the storm gathered momentum.

*** ***

Once he had secured control of the tempest, Logan set the second half of his plan into motion. Calling upon the power inherent in the Spear, and adding it to his own dark arts, he reached savagely across the barrier into a realm long since forgotten by most men.

With the aid of his magick, he swept up several of the realm’s denizens and pulled them back into his side of reality. Controlling them, he sent the creatures forth, hidden in the heart of the storm.

*** ***

Cade moved through the melee, Riley at his side. Grim determination was etched on his face as he fought, his blade flashing repeatedly in the moonlight. Each corpse brought him closer to the plantation house. The hounds were designed to slow them down, of that he was certain, and so he refused to give them what they wanted. With the core of Echo Team at his back, he smashed his way through the ranks of the enemy.

From out of the chaos in front of him charged an incredibly large beast; standing more than waist high, it resembled a full-grown lion more than a dog. Snarling, it launched itself at Cade.

As Riley watched, his commanding officer disappeared completely beneath the beast’s form.

“Cade!” he cried, dispatching the corpse hound he was currently fighting and rushing over to his friend.

He needn’t have worried; even as he looked on the point of Cade’s sword came through the creature’s skull from the inside out. With a mighty shove, the commander rolled the corpse off him, his sword still embedded to the hilt in the base of the creature’s neck. Getting up, he placed a foot on the body and pulled the sword free.

Cade was covered with blood and other unrecognizable substances from the hound’s corpse, but he was otherwise unhurt.

Riley clapped a hand on his shoulder in a silent show of support, and they turned to the battle once more.

A Blackhawk roared overhead, its light dancing across the lawn and over the front steps, and in its glow Cade saw a startling sight.

Gabrielle stood on the steps gesturing to him.

He raised his sword, to show he had seen her, and watched as she turned and disappeared inside the house.

It was clear that she wanted him to follow.

As chance, or providence, would have it, several quick shots from the helicopter above him cleared the last of the corpse hounds from his path.

The way to the steps was open.

“This way,” he cried, charging forward, with Riley at his heels.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Inside the plantation house, they sheathed their swords and drew out their firearms. A double staircase immediately in front of them led up to the upper floors.

At the top stood Gabrielle, waiting.

Cade never hesitated.

He charged up the steps, with Riley close behind.

They encountered no one in the halls, so it was only a matter of moments before they found themselves led to the entrance to the grand ballroom on the second floor.

Across the room stood Logan, the Necromancer.

*** ***

“We’ve got trouble,” Olsen said, inclining his head toward the window while he finished reloading his weapon.

Duncan turned to see what he was referring to and instantly wished he hadn’t.

A thick bank of storm clouds had appeared practically out of nowhere, moving faster than any earthbound wind could have carried them. And through a break in the clouds, they caught sight of the cause of that speed within their depths; shapes writhed and rolled within the clouds, shapes that had no purpose for being on this God-given earth.

Clearly, they were some form of summoned being, but not one either Duncan, with his limited knowledge of such creatures, or Olsen, who’d faced more than his fair share, had ever seen before. They were a good ten to fifteen feet in length and shaped, more than anything else, like manatees, except instead of front fins they had fully functional arms complete with claws several inches in length. They had large bulbous heads with human faces and gaping maws full of oversized teeth.

Their eyes,
thought Duncan in the instant before the spectres were upon them,
their eyes are full of hatred.

*** ***

Logan turned to face them as they entered the room. In his hand he held the Spear. He was dressed in a long, hooded robe, tied at the waist with a black sash. Cade recognized more than a few of the arcane symbols sewn onto its surface and knew that this was not a man to be trifled with.

But neither was he.

Riley moved out to his left, his weapon securely aimed at their foe, making it difficult for the sorcerer to strike them both with one blow.

The Necromancer, however, didn’t even acknowledge his presence. His darkened hood concealed his features, but Cade could tell his gaze never wavered from him just the same.

“He said you would come.”

The Necromancer’s voice was distorted, garbled, and it took a moment for Cade to understand him. When he did, his words set his heart racing as the Templar Commander realized the necromancer could only be referring to one being.

The Adversary.

“Where is he?” Cade demanded.

Logan ignored the question, taking a step closer as he spoke. “Why are you here? Did you think you could defeat me?”

Cade raised his gun. “Put down the Spear. You will not be harmed if you do as you are told.”

The Necromancer acted as if he hadn’t heard. “You and your pathetic ally?” he asked, looking over at Riley for the first time. “Do you really believe you are strong enough to face me?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. In a surprisingly lithe move, he swept the Spear around in an arc and pointed it at Riley.

Riley wasn’t taking any chances. As soon as the Necromancer moved, he pulled his weapon’s trigger.

Cade watched, stunned, as the bullets from Riley gun arced
around
the Necromancer and smashed harmlessly into the doors behind. Logan mouthed something in a tongue Cade could not recognize, and in the next instant Riley was lifted up off the ground and tossed halfway across the room.

The Templar sergeant slumped to the floor, unmoving.

Logan turned back toward Cade, returning the Spear to his side. With his other hand, he reached up and threw back his hood, revealing his features for the first time.

The right side of his face was a veritable ruin; his skin scarred from exposure to some kind of extreme heat, the flesh melted together and re-formed into some hideous approximation of normalcy. Like Cade’s, his right eye had not escaped harm, but where Cade’s was left intact as a milky white orb, the Necromancer’s had been destroyed outright, leaving the empty socket to gape like an open wound in his face. A few remaining wisps of long white hair hung from his damaged scalp.

The similarities between Cade’s condition and that of the necromancer were too obvious to ignore.

Could this have been what the Adversary had intended for me?

And then an even more disturbing thought.

Why didn’t he finish the job?

Despite his inner turmoil, Cade kept his gun pointed in the Necromancer’s direction. “Put down the Spear and step away from it,” he said.

The Necromancer laughed. “Go ahead, shoot me,” he said, spreading his arms wide, the Spear still held securely in his right hand. “You can’t harm me and you know it. What I did to your companion was child’s play. As long as I am in possession of
this
,” - he shook the weapon slightly - “I am invincible.”

Cade knew the rumors. He had heard the legends. He also knew that at least some of them regarding the Spear were true; he had seen the power of the weapon firsthand.

Yet he had little choice.

His enemy could not, must not, retain control of the Spear.

“This is your last chance, Logan. Put down the weapon.”

The Necromancer smiled. Instead of obeying Cade’s command, he began chanting under his breath. As he did so the head of the Spear started to glow a brilliant crimson in response.

*** ***

The storm, and its fearsome passengers, hit them in a rush. One moment the helicopter was above the estate in clear skies, the next it was encased in a maelstrom of horrific proportions, surrounded by clouds so thick that if it weren’t for the instruments, the pilots would have been unable to determine which direction was up. As it was they had their hands full, fighting against the gale force winds and struggling to keep the aircraft on station.

In the back, Duncan and Olsen, strapped into their seats with safety webbing and seat belts, did their best to keep the spectres away from the helicopter with shots from their weapons.

Their gunfire only had marginal effect, however. The bullets seemed to skip off the creatures’ scaly hides or were tossed away in the winds before they could reach their targets.

Above the howl of the wind and the sharp clatter of their firearms, a new sound could suddenly be heard.

The sound of teeth tearing through metal somewhere in the rear of the aircraft.

Duncan looked at Olsen, and the same thought flashed in both their eyes.

The engines.

*** ***

Cade had no intention of letting his enemy call forth any more of his infernal allies.

He had to do something.

But what?

The necromancer was right; Cade couldn’t harm him while he was in possession of the Spear.