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BOOK: Terry W. Ervin
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Road Toad reached the wizard just before she began to cross. He grabbed her arm and shouted back over his shoulder at the soldiers watching us. “The prince will land between us and the enemy. Even if he should perish, they must not take his body!”

I saw Pops Weasel hesitate. But when his charge, Wizard Golt, strode down the mound, he and Short Two Blades followed. A captain called companies and ordered the bugler to sound the charge.

The prince’s mushroom parachute opened three hundred yards above the ground. Road Toad and Wizard Seelain exchanged words before he led her across the plank. I followed and didn’t bother to look back, knowing by the shouts that we weren’t advancing alone.

The ogres to the right were the first of the enemy to realize the prince’s peril. They turned, but the horse cavalry wheeled about, charging with reckless abandon.

A pair of Stukas turned sharply to make a run at Prince Reveron. He changed his direction of descent by tugging at the parachute’s lines. Where he had once been floating towards us, he now angled towards the cavalry closing on the goblins and ogres.

Road Toad, Seelain and I were in the lead. We ran past a wrecked panzer, veering towards the drifting prince while a new force of ogres and goblins emerged from the distant woods. Their ragged formation disintegrated as they raced us to the prince.

Wizard Seelain screamed, “No!” Still 150 yards away from the prince, she called deep upon her reserves. Slowing to a trot, she sent enough power to strike at the foremost dive-bomber and sent it spinning out of control to crash among the enemy yet in the woods.

The second Stuka swept in with guns blazing, its pilot intent on ramming the prince. Even if the gunfire failed, the spinning nose blades or the high speed impact would kill Prince Reveron.

At the last instant Prince Reveron pulled the release catch that harnessed him to the parachute. He fell, causing the Stuka to miss. One hundred feet above the ground the prince gestured an incantation and slowed his descent. He hit the ground hard, but survived.

Rolling unsteadily to his feet, the prince looked about. He saw us nearing and the enemy from the woods closing. He turned, drew his sword, and ran towards the cavalry. Despite the morning light, his sword cast an eerie red glow.

Road Toad stuttered in his stride. “He carries the Blood-Sword.”

Even in the Doran Confederacy we’d heard of the three ancient weapons of power long wielded by the Kings of Keesee. Among them the Blood-Sword had the most malevolent reputation.

“Reveron!” called Grand Wizard Seelain, waving her staff. I struggled to keep pace with her and Road Toad. He was driven by duty, and she by some apparent bond.

The prince spun about and spotted her. “Quit this battlefield!” he shouted. Already a number of goblins and ogres had turned from the broken cavalry, intent on capturing the prince. “Flee!”

She ignored Prince Reveron’s order and he abandoned his effort to reach the horsemen fighting desperately on his behalf. I followed close on Wizard Seelain’s heels, not at all sure I wanted to be anywhere near the Blood-Sword. I looked behind to see that the eighty Keeseean soldiers supported by a dozen mercenaries were fifty yards back. I didn’t see Wizard Golt among them, but a harnessed elemental spirit—a large one was. If I’d have been standing still I might’ve felt its stride through the ground. Despite running, maybe I did, because its presence bolstered my confidence on the open field with hundreds of the enemy closing.

We’d reach the prince seconds before the nearest six ogres overtook him, screeching goblins following in their wake. From deep inside confident resolve settled in me. I knew I’d fight for the prince, even die for him. I wasn’t sure why. My thoughts focused on protecting him until the earth elemental got there.

Then, some of the goblins hesitated. Shrieking, a few turned and fled. The rest fell to the ground and hid their faces while the Keeseean knights struggled to control their rearing mounts. The ogres stopped and stared. At first I thought it was the prince and his Blood-Sword. But it wasn’t. I followed the ogres’ gaze back towards the woods. An enormous figure pushed several young oaks aside and emerged from the tree line.

The hollowness forming in my gut confirmed what it was. The most feared of the Necromancer King’s minions, a bone golem. Lashed together with dark magic and the sinews of a thousand men, the sickly white titan scanned the battlefield. It looked like a crudely assembled skeleton of a man, yet stood taller than five. It wielded a curved iron scimitar in each of its four arms. Stories said that within a bone golem’s chest beat the heart of a demon.

With gigantic strides the golem advanced on the prince. It waved its scimitars and unleashed a searing cry from the depths of hell. My flesh went cold and my bones rattled until every joint ached. I staggered back and would have fallen except for the support of my spear.

Any goblins that weren’t on the ground paralyzed with fear now dropped in abject terror. Even the ogres backpedaled. Grand Wizard Seelain stood, huddled behind the staff she held out before her. Prince Reveron had made it to Seelain’s side. He stood with an arm around her and the Blood-Sword leveled between them and the bone titan. Road Toad still stood, but was visibly shaken. The warm sensation running down my legs betrayed that I’d lost control and wet myself.

But I hadn’t fled. About a dozen of the Keeseean soldiers and half that many mercenaries held their ground against the bone golem’s hellcry. Every other man and horse had fled or fell to the ground, oblivious to all but the terror that gripped them.

The only thing that advanced was the earth elemental—and far behind it, the company of Crusaders marching forward with shouldered rifles bearing bayonets that sparkled in the sunlight. In the middle of their line an orange flag bearing a white cross flew and, instead of a battle cry, they voiced what sounded like a unifying hymn sung in their foreign tongue.

The golem’s long strides gave it the speed of a quarter horse. Road Toad shouted above the surrounding moans, “Prince! Retreat toward the elemental.” He hurled one of his javelins at the golem. The Algaan blessed javelin arced toward the creature and struck it in the hip. It bounced off, leaving only a small black mark. “The Blood-Sword will not avail you against this foe!”

“Agreed, Major Jadd,” said the prince, pulling Wizard Seelain back. But by now it was too late. I ran forward and stood on Road Toad’s right, interposing myself between Prince Reveron and the giant golem. Each of the bone titan’s closing steps reverberated through the ground.

“Run, Prince!” snapped Road Toad as if giving an order. “Flank Hawk, spread right. Give it two targets.”

I did, and held my spear ready. I had no intention of attacking, but instead prepared to dodge its attacks. I prayed quickly to M’Kishmael that the golem didn’t cry out again.

Road Toad and I gained a reprieve when a three hundred pound boulder crashed into the golem’s ribs. Only then did it take notice of the earth elemental. The golem looked once more at us and ducked, causing a second hurled boulder to miss. It then turned its attention to the elemental who hurled a third boulder. Like the first, the third boulder struck with devastating force. The bone golem staggered back as some of its bones cracked under the impact.

The earth elemental wrenched free a wrecked panzer’s cannon muzzle. The bone golem let loose with another hellcry before the two clashed in a flurry of blows.

The force of the second hellcry staggered me, but I steadied myself. The bone golem dwarfed the earth elemental. “Wizard Golt’s creature can’t win,” I said to Road Toad.

He put a hand on my shoulder. “No, it won’t. We must act.” We looked around. The prince struggled to sheath his weapon.

“The Blood-Sword is feeding upon it,” Prince Reveron said. He finally succeeded and, with the power of the Blood-Sword stifled, I felt a fraction of the battlefield’s dread lift. “We must reach the Crusaders,” said the prince. “Seelain,” he called to the wizard who’d retreated twenty yards. “This way.”

“No, the battle is almost over.” She ran toward a horse that fought madly against its bridle tangled in a dead ogre’s grasp.

She was right. The earth elemental had shattered one of the bone golem’s four arms. But it had lost one of its own in the process. Two deep gashes marked where an iron scimitar had cleaved deeply into its earthen body.

In a desperate bid, the elemental hurled the cannon muzzle at the golem and dove for one of its pillar-like legs. Grasping the leg with its remaining arm, the elemental began sinking into the ground, pulling the leg with it. The golem rained down scimitar blows, shredding any cohesive remains of its foe.

The prince retrieved the wizard. “Won’t take it long to free its leg.”

“Goaff,” called the bone golem in a hollow, unearthly voice. It strained to free its buried foot. “Shez-an dub nye-ee!” It pointed one of its scimitars at the prince.

“Friend Prince, we shalt take the demon down!” shouted a distant voice. One hundred yards from the bone golem, the Crusaders had formed into two rows. The front knelt while the rear stood. Swinging downward with his saber and shouting in his native tongue, the Crusader captain ordered his men to open up. Gunfire crackled and smoke billowed from the front rank’s rifles. Flashes of gold light marked where the bullets struck the golem. Shards and bits of bone flew away.

The Crusader soldiers sang on, their words dampening the evil emanating from the bone golem. Their captain signaled and shouted again and the rear rank fired. Again, flashes marked a dozen impacts, staggering the golem. I realized they must be using saint-blessed weapons.

The golem cried out, “Aff, neecha o ga grullta haw!”

The once cowering goblins climbed to their feet and the nearby ogres responded to the golem’s call with bellows echoing their newfound boldness. The bone golem hurled one of its iron scimitars at the Crusader formation, but it fell short.

The eighteen mercenaries and soldiers joined Road Toad and I as we surrounded the prince and ran towards the Crusaders and our distant defensive line beyond.

The Crusader captain shouted to his men. They fired and this time the united blast nearly toppled the bone golem.

I found Pops Weasel next to me at the rear with the other mercenaries. He was limping. “That demon spawn just said it’d eat any that didn’t rise to kill the prince.”

“The Crusaders will take care of it,” I said.

“But who’ll take care of them?” he gestured with his sword. Already a growing mob of goblins backed by ogres were closing on our heels.

The bone golem, tattered and nearly broken, let out a grumbling howl and a sulfurous wall of flames leapt up from the ground. It stood between us and the Crusaders.

“It will endure until the Crusaders slay the demon-beast,” called the prince. He drew the Blood-Sword. “Turn about and hold until then.”

Pops Weasel readied his sword as I did my spear. “That’s one powerful demon to stand to them Crusader guns,” he said, watching the enemy close.

“Forward to meet them,” ordered the prince, “or they’ll drive us into the flames.” He led the charge with red sword held high. I hoped its emanating dread fell upon the goblins. Road Toad was on the prince’s left and I shouldered my way to his right. Wizard Seelain was among us, shouting such encouragement that frothing spit flew from her lips. It was our twenty against a hundred. Even if help came, the enemy from the woods would still overwhelm us.

I ran the first goblin through, nearly losing my spear to its momentum. Pops took out another of the yellow-skinned enemy before it could stab me. Seelain wielded her staff, cracking skulls and blocking spear and dagger thrusts. Cries of agony arose around the prince. Whenever the red sword found its mark a goblin fell back. Soon after, blood oozed from the wounded’s nose, mouth, ears and eyes. They fell to the ground with red splotches signaling massive hemorrhaging beneath their skin. Then the ogres crashed among us. A broad, squat one charged directly at Wizard Seelain. Fearless, she stood ready. I leapt in from the side and set the butt of my spear to the ground. Before the ogre could react I guided the stout tip into the brute’s groin. It penetrated the chain-mesh armor skirt and drove deep. I let go and rolled to the side as the spear shaft snapped under the force.

I didn’t look back to see what had happened. I drew my sword before a pair of spear-wielding goblins were on me. My sword skills were moderate at best and not up to two foes. I gave ground to their stabs and thrusts. A third joined them.

A blue-robed figure leapt to my aid, knocking aside a spear and smashing the goblin between its slanted eyes. Seelain spun around and caught another across the helmet, ringing its skull. Her distraction allowed me to get past the third goblin’s guard. I sheared away the fingers on its left hand as it hastily parried. Seelain caught the maimed goblin in the throat and it stumbled back, gagging for air.

Seelain said before turning, “Flank Hawk, the fire has dropped.”

We broke from the enemy and gained an initial lead. Road Toad was in the front with Prince Reveron. Seelain was faster than me and strove to catch up with them. Only eight of us remained. I caught up with Pops Weasel who was limping badly.

“Pops,” I said, slowing to his pace.

“I’m done fer,” he said and pushed me away. “Good knowin’ ya. Save the prince.” Wiping a sleeve across his nose, he stopped and spun with sword ready.

BOOK: Terry W. Ervin
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