“Get me some help,” Vincent said, staring at his stump. “I can still fight!”
I summoned Nareene from the front lines. At least they would enjoy the company. She arrived with only a shield, her other arm a bleeding mess. “What have those evil bastards done!” she demanded. “You burn the fuckers, you hear me, my love?”
Vincent’s spine stiffened at her words and I left them to it. Who was I to stand in the way of insane arsonists at a time like this.
I reluctantly stood with Secca, and between us we managed to have the enemy attacking each other in the confusion of snow and night-fighting, assailed by illusions until the entire front was a churning mass of Skallgrim flailing at anything that moved.
Then I felt the elder tyrant’s power rolling over the battlefield, searching for me as he drew close to the front lines. He was coming for me, and so it was time for us to engage in the better part of valour.
Under the confusion caused by our trickery, our forces took the opportunity to flee back towards camp, an organised retreat that swiftly became a rout as Skallgrim and scaled dog-daemons finally gave chase. The wounded were left behind; slow in the panic.
Secca bravely stayed by my side, putting my arm around her shoulders as pain spiked between my ribs with every step. If only she knew it had been her that had shoved a length of steel into me, and why.
Eva was guarding our retreat, assailed on all sides, parrying, blocking, and killing too quickly for me to follow. Finally a lucky hit with a heavily enchanted axe evaded her guard to pierce her helm and knock her onto her back. She lay dazed as axes rose around her. Flame bloomed and they fell back shrieking, clutching burning faces.
“Get her out!” Vincent shouted. He had wrenched his Gift wide open and was pouring sheets of burning power all across the enemy front. He had gone too far. His Gift ripped asunder and he began to change, his flesh crawling with too much magic for it to handle. Nareene was at his side, shield up as arrows and axes thunked into it. She had no intention of leaving him to die alone. Vincent had always dreamed of being a hero, and now he was going to get his wish.
I summoned my magic and flooded muscles with power, more than I should have in truth. I shoved Secca off and ran for Eva, trying to ignore how close I too was coming to succumbing to the lures of the Worm myself. If I reached for more power I could turn the enemy upon themselves: Do it…. do it… do it… I grimaced and resisted the urge.
The inferno raging all around granted me time enough to haul Eva up onto her feet and lead her away.
Vincent and Nareene laughed as the narrows burned around them. Men and beasts and daemons were all consumed by their lust. This was why the Arcanum feared magi losing control, and this was also a display of how Setharis conquered almost every other city and nation it had come across over the centuries – what were mere mundane humans before such devastating magical might?
Eva regained some of her senses and we broke into a run, creating as much space as possible before Vincent really lost it. My wounds made it difficult. Eva wrapped a steel-clad arm around my waist to support me.
I risked a glance back. The flames raged on and Vincent now stood on two legs, his missing limb replaced with molten fire, and the other covered in bubbling blackened scales. A huge dark shape loomed through his inferno, a crown of dark iron atop a serpentine head slithering through the flames. Abrax-Masud had sent one of his ravak ahead of him.
We ducked our heads and ran into the safety of a snowy night, hoping that Vincent would prove strong enough to grant us enough time to escape. Ravak were fast and hunted by sight – this time darkness was our ally. Explosions thumped and light flashed behind us as the twisted magus unleashed his magic.
We ran on before the night sky caught fire, two pillers of incandescent flame rising, entwining in the moment Vincent and Nareene were butchered by the mighty daemon. Were we far enough away?
Again, I felt the distant presence that had been watching the battle unfold. With it came a blizzard howling across the valley, hiding us from any pursuit. I reached out to it but whoever, whatever, it was, they were not interested in communicating.
Then all was black, blind stumbling southwards towards Kil Noth.
We enhanced our night vision; about all our strained Gifts could manage. We fled until I collapsed; clutching my chest and heaving for breath. Eva slung me over her shoulder the rest of the way south back to our camp on its steep and defensive rise. Even without magic she was far stronger than me.
It took the Skallgrim some time to reorganise. We grabbed some vital food and rest while they prepared whatever new vileness they had in mind. As dawn arrived the blizzard eased off into a soft snowfall and the enemy were on the march again, and this time the elder tyrant himself was in the lead.
The sun was a burning red sliver rising above the hills as we few remaining defenders wearily prepared for another sortie. The wounded joined us, or were carried south to the perceived safety of Kil Noth, their absence replaced by a stream of new Clansfolk choosing to fight with us. Mothers wielding hunting spears and crafters with hatchets and barrel-top shields moved up to stand beside us. We all knew what was at stake here.
I sent Vaughn riding south on his damnable pony, Biter, to seek out the Free Towns Alliance. All we could do was hope our help would arrive first.
The air was charged with strange energy as we formed a ragged line in the snow. Again I felt something I couldn’t identify, that felt like the Shroud itself was straining and twisting in the whole area around us. Small crackles of lightning snapped from hair and steel, and the earth rumbled softly and rhythmically, a giant’s soft snore.
A dozen druí accompanied by a small warband arrived from Kil Noth and spoke only to Eva. They ignored my existence entirely; flinching from my gaze when they accidentally met it. They took up position on the right flank and readied to do battle. At this point anybody with a broken bottle and a bad attitude would do.
As the sun rose higher, the snow lessened to a few drifting flakes. My gut churned and my arse clenched at the sight of the enemy: a river of steel flowing down the valley behind a line of those huge fleshcrafed monstrosities, all led by an enormous glistening beetle accompanied by two huge ravak. Their magical presence was growing stronger, a dark miasma that threatened to choke us and force us to our knees, begging forgiveness.
A drumming of hooves from behind made me turn and I saw Vaughn riding his pony like a madman towards us. “They are here! Ten thousand men running at full speed only half an hour behind me!”
Yes! Fucking YES! All you bug-fucking bastards are about to burn! The Free Towns Alliance army would arrive before Abrax-Masud. We were going to win this battle and ram a rusty spike so far up his ancient arse he would choke on it. I nicked my thumb with one of Dissever’s barbs and it eagerly sucked up the blood.
Feed me his heart’s blood, it demanded.
Wouldn’t that be a sweet, sweet thing.
Chapter 33
We were a sorry lot of mangy curs compared to the shining mailed soldiers of the Free Towns Alliance in their laundered green and yellow tabards, who hadn’t seen the fighting we had. Even their conscripted militia in padded linen gambeson and crude iron pot helms were clean and uniformly armed with sturdy spears and slingshot.
Their robed Gifted, eight in all, and their general in his mirrorbright harness and red crested helm, rode towards us on sturdy Clanholds ponies, looking ill at ease atop such short, vicious mounts. They trotted over to us and sat there surveying our ragged forces with a critical eye before turning their gaze to Eva and the robed magi. As always, without robes and with these facial scars I was dismissed as unimportant. One day I should get a silver badge made that said ‘Magus’ on it. Probably followed by another saying ‘Yes, really.’