arrived.
The cut logs averaged more than a foot in diameter and they thundered and bounced across the trail, sometimes bouncing over him and occasionally glancing off of his shoulders and back. The impacts came with tremendous force and Dorian was driven hard into the ground, until he feared he might crush Miriam with his own body. Then the logs stopped coming and silence rose up suddenly in the aftermath.
Examining himself he saw that his arms had been driven into the ground past his elbows, and one knee had gouged a deep divot into the earth. Yet somehow both he and Miriam were still whole, though he still was unsure if she was alive or if he had wasted his time protecting a corpse. Everyone else, both the remaining riders and their horses were strewn, broken and mangled across the trail. It was very apparent that they were dead, though one horse was still whinnying pitifully as it died.
Pushing carefully away from the earth Dorian pulled himself free and shook the dirt loose before picking up Miriam’s still body. He carried her to the verge of the trail and laid her gently among the ferns, away from the area the logs had torn up. As he did he noticed blood seeping down his armor, staining both of his gauntleted hands where they touched her. Somewhere within the seemingly invincible plate he wore he was bleeding… probably in several places, though he couldn’t see any place where the armor had been breached or compromised.
One rider had escaped, Ruth, and with her she carried Penny. The two of them were no longer in sight but Dorian could hear the sound of the horse bearing them away. Standing upright he began walking, following the direction they had gone down the trail. His body had become a throbbing mass of pain and now that he had stopped running Dorian wondered how he had managed to do it for so long. Exhaustion and weariness had taken on entirely new levels of meaning for him.
“Faster… I have to move faster,” he told himself, urging his legs to move more quickly. Each step was agony but his legs did seem to be responding, though he couldn’t seem to manage to get past a fast walk. This went on for several minutes, while the sound of Ruth’s horse got further and further distant. Eventually he could no longer hear it at all, yet he continued to walk.
After an indeterminate time, in which the only sounds to be heard were those of his labored breathing and the noise made by his armor as he walked, he heard something new. It was the cry of a horse in pain followed by a heavy thumping sound, as if something heavy had struck the soft earth. This was followed by the sound of Penny swearing, until her voice was cut short. Silence followed.
Without realizing it Dorian had begun to run again. Energy he knew he did not possess was flowing into him and his battered body responded by running faster. Droplets of blood flew from his hands as his arms and legs churned with increasing speed. He raced forward and his pain receded into the back of his mind.
“Cut me loose!” he heard Penny shout. “I can help. At least let me defend myself!”
He knew he was close now and then he saw the forms of people ahead of him on the trail, a lot of people. They were heading along the path in the same direction he was, so most of their backs were to him. As he approached some of them turned and their emotionless stares brought the truth to his mind. Shiggreth!
Memories of that night over a year past, when he had fought a mob of them outside of Washbrook, came flooding into his head. Everything about them seemed familiar, from the strange unnatural movements to the expressionless faces. He drew his sword in a fluid motion and without slowing he drove through them, cutting aside anything that blocked his path.
The throng of shiggreth seemed endless until suddenly he broke through and found himself standing in a small clearing in the forest. Penny and Ruth stood in the center of it, next to a crippled horse. At a glance it appeared the poor beast had stepped into a shallow concealed trench, breaking both of its forelegs. Beyond the two women were more of the undead, and looking to the sides he could see them there as well… they were completely surrounded.
This is bad, really, really bad, he thought to himself. He reached the two women in seconds and wordlessly the three of them formed a triangle, each of them facing outward. Ruth had already cut Penny’s bonds and given her a sword to use. Apparently she knew enough about the shiggreth to realize their personal issues were no longer the priority.
Dorian estimated their enemy numbered at least a couple of hundred strong, which wasn’t encouraging. “I get the feeling this wasn’t part of your plan,” he said loudly over his shoulder.
“No,” Ruth answered, “it appears to be a deliberate ambush though.”
“They’ve never shown signs of being able to plan ahead like this before,” Penny interjected.
“According to the histories they were just as intelligent as men,” Ruth replied. “At least that’s what my teacher said,” she added.
“Who was your teacher?” Penny asked.
“Cyhan,” was Ruth’s reply.
“That explains a few things,” muttered Dorian, but he had barely finished speaking before the shiggreth closed in on them. None of them had time to talk after that.
The battle, if it could be called such, was short and bitter. In the open, surrounded by foes and with plenty of room Dorian wished he had the great sword he had talked to Mort about. It would have been the perfect situation for such a weapon. Instead he made do with his long sword, though he had no shield or dagger to complement it.
Of the three of them he was the only one protected from their foes weakening touch. Despite their best efforts Penny and Ruth were overcome almost immediately. He saw them dragging Ruth away while she struggled uselessly, her sword cutting flesh that could not feel its bite. Penny grew faint after being touched several times and collapsed to the ground. She might have been drawn away as well, but for the fact that he stood over her, cutting away arms and legs as they reached for her.
Standing alone he fought for an unknown time. It certainly seemed like an eternity. Despite their numbers they could not drag him down, as they once had, though they mobbed him in droves. Hands gripped his arms and legs yet he moved anyway, dragging them along as he hewed their fellows into pieces. Cutting and cursing he fought under the weight of their numbers until at the last he felt Penny dragged from beneath him as his own legs were lifted up.
He fought on, though he knew he had already failed. She was dead already and his best friend’s child with her. Tears appeared in his eyes and he wept with sorrow and rage even as the mob bore him up. The sun and sky seemed to mock his tragedy as the countless numbers of his foes tried to strip the armor from his limbs. His struggle went on hopelessly and it was a long time before the trees were cloaked in silence again.
Chapter 19
It took me several jumps to get my entire entourage to my house in Albamarl. I took Sir Harold and my honor guard first before bringing Lady Rose on the final trip. Including Harold I had ten men with me, all of them armed and well acquainted with battle. Unlike most of the nobility in Albamarl I had a large number of veteran warriors now, men who had already faced death once and were ready to do so again.
Dorian and Harold had spent an excessive amount of time worrying over which men to send with me and I had no doubts that some of them were being considered for eventual induction into the Knights of Stone.
Marc took a long look at Sir Harold, resplendent in his enchanted plate, and the other armed and armored men that had come with me. “You’ve decided to invade the capital?” he asked.
I laughed. “Not yet, I think the king can be trusted to hold to his end of the agreement.”
“Ten men won’t be enough if he doesn’t, not even with that one,” he replied, pointing to Harold. “Where did you get that armor?”
“I’ll explain that later, for now suffice to say that Sir Harold here is much more of a threat than he appears,” I said.
“Glad to make your acquaintance my lord,” Harold said politely with a small bow in Marcus’ direction.
Marc gave him his full attention, “I’m not a lord anymore. I surrendered those rights already. Still I am happy to have met you as well, though we were not properly introduced.” He gave me a pointed stare as he said that last part. “If you’re going to start knighting people you need to learn better etiquette Mort,” he added for my benefit.
