Healing Wounds in Arabarb
By Charles Matthias
Although they had broken through the city walls, Calephas's army
proved even more resilient than they'd feared. The initial shock of
the attack had worn and now they were fighting to gain ground against
a regimented force that was used to crushing small parties such as
theirs. Several of the dogs lay bleeding out their guts where they'd
been speared to death, while a line of soldiers pressed them back
through the narrow streets toward the hole in the wall.
Jarl had claimed three of the invaders with his knives before the
swords began to swing and the spears began to thrust. Now he fell
back to the vanguard and helped Eivind and Bergen keep more of the
troops from closing in behind them. A quick glance at their front
line proved unsettling. Five of their men were already dead, and the
dogs had been reduced to snarling and snapping as they backed away
from the line of soldiers in their armor and shields. Boots, graves,
and a chain mail kept their fangs at bay when the spears missed.
Jarl glanced at the homes all around them and wondered with a bit of
disgust why the people didn't stand up and fight with them. This was
their land after all. Had Calephas drained all their bravery from
them? Were there truly any more men in Fjellvidden or Arabarb but
these few who'd come?
Thuring and the others fell back another dozen paces until Jarl and
the two archers were standing back at the breach in the wall. Eivind
and Bergen picked off the few soldiers coming along between the wall
and the last line of buildings, while Jarl kept his eyes on the
battle and the woods behind them. He hated having to play watchman,
but his knives would never be enough against chain mail and swords.
If only he could have gone to the castle he could have truly helped.
A fiery eruption detonated along the building to his right and his
head snapped up to see a smoldering ruin with screaming children and
a mother running away from the gaping hole and blaze. Jarl swallowed
and ran one hand over his face which felt very tender; the hair was
curled and brittle. Spinning about, he saw two beastly figures loping
through the meadows from the southeast. One of them rose up on its
back legs and another blast of energy came rushing toward them.
"Look out!" Jarl grabbed, Bergen by the arm and yanked him down to
the ground as the blast slammed into the building behind them.
"We're trapped!" Eivind shouted in alarm as he ducked back behind the
building while Gmork's pups loped ever closer. The soldiers, sensing
their impending victory, pressed harder, striking down another of the
dogs. One of them managed to skewer Thuring's upper arm and the large
man bellowed, grabbing the soldier by the forearm and twisting him
down until his neck crushed itself against the rim of his shield. But
the other soldiers closed in, filling the hole and swinging their
blades so savagely that even the mighty Thuring was forced to fall
back and try to hold his wound shut.
Jarl hated having to rely on a Keeper for anything, but the gull
flying overhead was certainly good for one thing. The thane's
grandson lifted both his knives and crossed them at the guard until
they made a saltire. The gull, circling and watching, immediately
broke to the southwest and cawed frantically.
Out of the woods burst a dozen horseman brandishing their swords and
shouting as they charged across the meadow. Gmork's pups turned on
their heels and immediately dived to either side to avoid being run
down. Riding in the midst of them was the mage Harald who clapped his
hands firmly together as he shouted something incomprehensible amidst
the din. Roots burst from the ground and wrapped themselves around
the two pups drawing them firmly against the dirt. They struggled but
could not break free.
"Here they come!" Thuring shouted, as he and the other tundra men
whistled. The dozen and a half dogs still alive fell back yipping and
barking as all of them ran back out through the breach. The horsemen
parted around them and rushed in through the gap at the suddenly
terrified soldiers. They clashed with a titanic roar as bodies were
flung backward into the street only to be trampled beneath iron-shod
hooves. Thuring's men let up a cheer that Jarl, Ture, and the others
joined with throaty exaltation.
A grin creasing his face, Jarl and the rest rushed back into the
fight, eager to shed more blood.
----------
He couldn't really think of himself as Gmork's youngest anymore but
for the time it would do. Until the boy who'd once been the tanner's
apprentice had been changed as were he and his brothers, he could
still amuse himself with such a designation. He hoped one day he
might rather become his father's fiercest or perhaps his father's
keeper of the peace. Both appealed to him for different reasons. But
until then, he would be his father's youngest and be grateful for it.
He followed his eldest brother from the Listening room to the nearest
set of stairs leading down to the lowest floor from which they could
reach the northern wing of the castle. Both of them had adopted their
most human guise for this so as not to alarm the soldiers in the
castle. But most had gone to watch the battle in the city so they
took no notice of them.
While crossing a passage overlooking the inner bailey, his eldest
brother stopped and peered out one of the windows, hackles raised.
The youngest went to the next and looked out. He saw nothing in the
courtyard surrounding the gatehouse. But his eyes quickly alighted on
a side passage through the eastern battlements with arrow slits on
both sides that led toward the armory. Through that he could see
several figures passing, some Lutin and others human. They were but
slivers of various colors, but he knew what they were.
"Those aren't Father's soldiers," the eldest said with a growl. He
turned and allowed his snout to grow to its fullest extent. In his
growling and yipping voice he said, "Go kill Calephas and the others
as Father commanded. I will deal with these fools."
The youngest grinned, allowing his beastly features to reveal
themselves too. "Good luck, brother."
One paw rested on his shoulder and jowls grinned across large fangs.
"And to you the same."
He continued down the passage toward the northern wing while his
brother headed back to the stairs down to the courtyard. The youngest
fell to all fours and loped as fast as he could through the halls,
decrepit tapestries and barren alcoves rushing past. His paws dug
into the stone and left long gouges in his wake.
----------
Gmork was uncharacteristically hurried as he ran from the Listening
Room and up the two ranks of stairs to the western battlements. He
pushed aside one of the human guards and leaned across the
crenelations to see. The guard stammered, "The Resistance broke
through the barricades near the river!"
"I can see that," Gmork snapped and growled until the man whimpered
and stood silent. The other four guards at the walls were all
watching and looking warily at the city as if expecting another force
to materialize before their gates. It would not have surprised Gmork
but it would have been very foolish.
While he could see the ruined wall and the clot of men and some of
the soldiers rushing to help, the numerous buildings blocked his
sight of the actual invaders. Most likely they were the men from the
north that Lubec had warned him of. But why were they attacking the
western wall? They had nowhere to go once they entered the city and
he had more than enough soldiers to surround and slaughter them. So why bother?
Gmork mulled that thought for a few seconds before two familiar
figures dashing out of the woods halfway between him and the battle
caught his eye. A wave of relief surged through him as he saw his two
other pups racing from the woods toward the skirmish. At least they
were still close enough to do something about these fools.
He watched in mute satisfaction as his two children lobbed fireballs
at the attackers, pining them between the soldiers and the walls. But
his delight quickly turned to anger when the mounted swordsmen
charged from the woods and nearly ran his pups down. They dived to
either side in time, but a sudden flare of magic enveloped them and
then they couldn't move.
Gmork snarled, jowls curling and flecking with spittle. He drew
sigils into the air with the tips of his thumb claws before his
snout. Each shining blue symbol flared as it rushed to layer across
his face. And with each symbol everything across the span of the city
became clearer and more detailed, until with the last arcane rune his
vision was as acute as an eagle's. His pups were spread across the
meadow, struggling against tree roots that had sprung up and ensnared
them. There were no trees within a hundred yards, so these must have
been remnants from the days long past when trees had stood where now
the city dwelt.
So this mystery mage was proficient with wood. That could be very
useful in this land, so long as the fool wasn't killed by the
soldiers. Very carefully, Gmork drew several more runes in the air
before him as he leaned out across the battlements. His ears flicked
from side to side to listen to the human soldiers standing there
nearby; they were inching away slowly from their new lord and master
as he cast his spells. Cowards.
Once he had the spells in place, he directed them to strike at the
base of each of the roots pining his children to the ground. They
would eventually break free themselves, but what kind of a father
would he have been if he didn't help them? And as they were his
children, he made sure to take the time to aim carefully.
Lancets of blue light erupted from the overlaid runes, arcing through
the sky like a streaming shower of stars. They dropped one by one and
struck the wooden chains, making them sizzle and crack. His pups
panted and grinned as they saw what was happening. Both of them kept
still until the last of the saving rays had descended, then they
stood, easily breaking through their bonds.
Satisfied hat his children were free, Gmork turned to the city. The
horsemen had driven the soldiers back into the main street leading to
the western gate and bridge. There they formed up in ranks with
spearmen and swordsmen in front and bowmen in the back. But their
arrows were useless as they had all become as limp as flowers; some
even sported leaves. The spears were also starting to look more like
tree branches than weapons.
Gmork chuckled to himself in approval of the mage's ingenuity. His
sharp eyes studied the various riders but all those in the forefront
of the battle were clearly mundane men. He drew another run few runes
and arcs of light bolted from his claws to strike at one of the
riders. The man, a burly figure with long red beard, jerked back as
his flesh sizzled and wrinkled into a charred lump. Even the horse
cried in agony as its back was burned black as coal through the
saddle and stirrups.
His second bolt struck a shimmering shield of light and scattered
harmlessly. Gmork growled under his breath at being balked so easily
and let the fires race up and down his arms, pouring forth from every
strand of fur to arc through the sky and descend like a flock of
geese upon that makeshift magical shield.
For a few moments it seemed to hold under the unrelenting assault,
much the same sort of assault he had pummeled that infuriating dragon
with. But then the light trembled as the shield began to crack and
splinter like a sheet of ice after being struck with a sword. Gmork's
tail wagged and he let forth another barrage. With a resounding boom
that made every man in the skirmish cover their ears in pain, the
shield of light shattered into a million desultory fragments before
each vanished into the air. One of the riders in middle of the
company gasped a loud cry and fell from his horse in convulsions.
"That one," Gmork said to himself as he resumed drawing his flesh
frying runes for the other riders. He hoped the man wasn't killed in
the panic that was about to ensue. It would be so entertaining to
break his humanity and make him a beast.
The riders and other warriors appeared to sense their impending doom
as they gathered the mage and turned to flee back into the side
streets where Gmork couldn't see them. But his pups were waiting for
them there. Gmork rubbed his paws and watched the coming slaughter
with ravenous delight. He and his children would feed very well for weeks.
----------
May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,
Charles Matthias
!DSPAM:4dd8f5267241122247586!
_______________________________________________
MKGuild mailing list
[email protected]
http://lists.integral.org/listinfo/mkguild
