Forty Three: Time of Fire

I sprinted through the tunnels, boots pounding on slick stone as I ran. My shield, still strapped to my back, bounced against my shoulders with a racket that could have raised the dead.I didn’t care, because right now I was just trying to stay alive.

Behind me, the sound of the creature was soft but persistent. The clicking of claws on stone. The rasp of panting breath.

Several times the back of my neck prickled and I resisted the urge to look back at the monstrosity now following me. I was almost there, I could see the alcove where the shadows crouched, where my men waited for me to bring the monster into our midst.

As I approached I saw the shadows stir. I whipped past them in a rush of air at the same time Draxis relit his torch.

“Now!” I heard Kato shout and there was a clamor as armored men rose to their feet. I skidded to a stop, nearly going down as my boot caught a wet patch of slime. My sword was raised in a forward guard as I faced the beast.

The Skinwalker let out a hissing sound, flowing forward towards me in strange and jerky movements. I fumbled with my shield but the clasp on my back was stuck. It wouldn’t come free and I had precious little time. With a growl I stepped forward, slashing for the creature's head.

It made an odd jerky movement and swiped at me. Claws clanged off my snake scale gauntlet, screeching at as they raked the armor. The bade of my sword caught the skinwalker in a pale bony leg. The creature shrieked and leaped back, skittering sideways like a demented crab.

“Don’t let it get away!” Draxus raised his torch in one hand, blade in the other. Hade stabbed at it with a spear and the Wendigo twisted its neck all the way around to look at him.

Kato made a gagging sound.

“Fuck me, that’s creepy.”

The creature dove off the ceiling and between the legs of Draxus, who nearly toppled over trying to turn. It was on Kato so quickly I almost didn’t see it happen. Kato went down hard in a crash of armor. Tried to stab at the skinwalker but it moved deafly aside, raking its claws down his face.

Kato cried out and I ran forward with a battle cry, swinging my sword for its head. The blade shattered part of the skull mask. I caught a glimpse of a face beneath, bloated and grotesque. Then the creature lifted a clawed hand and let out an unearthly shriek.

The sound was so sharp that it made the air vibrate. There was a stabbing pain in my ears, followed by the warmth of blood down the side of my head. My ears were ringing and I could hear nothing.

I watched as Draxus opened his mouth to shout soundlessly. Then moments later my mind caught up with the moment. The Wendigo charged me, hitting me high in the chest with its horns and knocking me sprawling. The wind went by in a rush. My back struck stone and pain blossomed from my chest.

My ribs were badly bruised, maybe even broken. I snarled, bringing up my sword, and stabbed at the creature's neck and shoulders. The blade shimmered red as Iron Blooded activated. The skinwalker fought, clawing at my sides and chest with claws that would have shredded me had it not been for my chainmail.

Black icor slicked the floor beneath us. I could see the shimmer of torchlight behind me as Draxus approached. I met his gaze and nodded.

“Do it,” I said. Then I held on to the beast.

It screamed when the fire first touched it. Then it writhed as it caught flame. I gripped it by it’s horns, ignoring the heat of the flames as I tried to force it down. My boots slid in icor and blood. I grit my teeth as the wendigo screeched again, a sound loud enough to pierce the skull.

Then it began to twitch violently. I lost my grip on its horns, gauntlets slick with icor. The skinwalker tried to crawl backward, only to be impaled on Hade's spear and held fast.

“Burn,” I growled through gritted teeth. “Burn you abomination.”

At last, the twitching shudders stopped and the deer skull mask fell to the floor with a hollow clatter. I watched the creature slump to the ground, its level indicator going dark.

As the flames began to flicker and die I strode forward, stomping the skull viciously until there was nothing left but antlers and charred dust. The air smelled of burning skin and hair and I lifted my visor to spit on the stone.

Draxus was kneeling next to Kato, his face drawn and serious. My friend law on his side, a hand over his face. There was blood on his fingers and a glimpse through them made me grimace.

The skin of his face was shredded, hanging off in ribbons under his fingertips. When Draxus tried to reach for him Kato slapped his hand away, teeth clenched. I pulled a minor health potion from my inventory and uncorked it.

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I turned to Hade, whose expression was grim.

“Hold his hands by his sides,” I said. The soldier swallowed but nodded. He stepped forward and gripped Kato’s wrists, forcing his hands down by his sides. Draxus held his shoulders still.

“Peace brother,” he said, as Kato’s breath rasped in and out. His open-faced helmet lay beside him, metal still red with blood. His face was shredded, the white of bone visible beneath. He was bleeding heavily, and I’d have to move quickly to stop the flow.

I lifted the bottle over Kato’s head and watched his one good eye focus on it and widen.

“This will hurt,” I told him. “But you need to stay conscious.”

Kato blinked once and I took that as acceptance. I poured the contents of the potion over his face and the reaction was instantaneous. His skin began to steam where the liquid hit him and Kato jerked, arching his back against the pain.

Draxus murmured to him, holding him still by the shoulders as the potion worked. The bleeding began to slow. The skin was still loose and torn but the damage looked much less dire than it had been only moments ago.

Hi eye however remained torn and bloody.

“He needs a healer Ser William,” said Hade. I nodded. “We need to go back to the surface. Take his arm.”

Together we half carried Kato back through the tunnels towards the base of the long later. I could see the stars high above in the sky. And smell the faint scent of smoke. Somewhere out there, a battle for humanity’s freedom raged.

We helped Kato up the ladder but it was slow going. He was tired from blood loss and could do no more than shuffle slowly upwards. At last, he gripped the edge of the grate and pulled himself up. I guided him with a hand on his back.

“You’ll be fine,” I told him. But the light of the distant war I could see that he was already looking sickly. The wound had been more than superficial, but something told me that it was festering far too quickly to be normal.

I turned to my remaining soldier.

“Get him to camp,” I said. “Ask for Joanna, and accept no other healer but her. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Ser.”

I watched the man walk away with one of Kato’s arms slumped over his shoulders.

“He’ll be alright,” said Draxus, but even he seemed unconvinced. “He has to be.”

I grunted and turned towards the front gate. Fire blazed in the sky. I could hear the distant clamor of battle met and my own blood began to hum.

Hade turned to face me and it took me a moment to realize he was waiting for orders.

“We need to rejoin the squad,” I say. “That is our first priority. We locate the men, deal with any immediate threats, and then we find Lord Blackthorne.”

Draxus nodded, his face hard.

“This is bigger than us,” he muttered. “Far bigger. What we found in those tunnels.. I don’t know how long the rot has had to take hold. But it may run deep.”

I caught his meaning and cold dread wormed its way through my veins.

“You think it extends to the top? To the House of Refuge?”

Draxus shrugged. His eyes were tired.

“I can’t say. All I know is that we are in the thick of it, and there is no going back - not now.”

I nodded and rolled my shoulders. My ribs still ached from the blow I’d taken, and one of my pouldrons had bent where the tip of the horns of the creature had pierced metal.

There was a time for mourning. A time for speculation. Hell, even a time to challenge one's own beliefs. But now? Now was a time of fire, and before the night was out my blade would be red with the blood of my enemies.

So I took that first step and led my friends out of danger and into the heart of the siege. The fighting on the walls was thickest where the siege towers had made their landing. Hulking figures of dark metal and rotted wood. Orks poured out the doors set into the towers, whooping and snarling with the taste for blood.

They crashed against a wall of shields as men fought to hold the line. Among them, I saw Gills shouting orders pointing forward with his bronze-tipped spear. The light of the blazing fires lit him from behind, and he looked almost like a god of war.

I raised my sword and charged forward, pushing through the ranks of soldiers towards my own men, now fighting side by side with the city garrison of Ceris. One of the Orks paused on the way out of the tower. Its beady eyes swept the crowd and landed on Gills. He threw back his head and bellowed, snapping up his arm to catch a white-tipped arrow on his shield.

The others seemed bolstered by the cry of this larger Ork, and their efforts redoubled as they slammed into the organized line of soldiers.

“Gills!” I tried to shout over the melee, but my voice was lost. His head was turned to the side as he encouraged the men. He couldn’t see the danger coming. Fear stabbed at my insides as the large Ork waded his way between his fellows, dark eyes glittering.

“Gills!” I shouted again, more desperate now. It was a mistake. The veteran turned towards me and as he did his face lit up in a smile. Then he seemed to register the horror on my face and turned.

The giant Ork loomed over him, his dark ram-like horns were the size of a man's arm. Gills had only a moment to raise his shield before the crippling blow of a Warhammer struck him full-on.

I cried out as my friend tumbled backward, crashing into the men behind him. He didn’t rise and that’s when the fury swept through me. I charged the Ork, even as he turned. Sᴇaʀch* Thᴇ Nʘvᴇl(F)ire.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

Class: Ork Raider Boss

Rank:29

Several of the men nearby tried to stab him with spears only to have the shafts splintered by the whirling Warhammer. One of the men managed to step back, but the other caught the hammer in the side of the helm. Metal crumpled inwards.

The line wavered as men's courage failed them. They faced a foe far larger and stronger than them. The Ork seemed to delight in their fear, sharp tusks gleaming in a viscous smile.

"Would none challenge me?" he mocked in halting guttural speech. The line of men shuffled but none dared step forward to face him. The Ork's around them laughed, deep whooping sounds as the men cowered.

"I will face you."

My voice managed to carry even over the sounds of battle all around. The Ork Raider swung his head, dark eyes peering through the forest of spears. They landed on me, and he made an amused sound in his throat.

"Small man," he said. "But brave. Foolish, perhaps. Come, and I will make you piss blood."

He twirled his Warhammer in his hand, metal catching the light.

"What do they call you, little man?"

A sea of faces turned towards me, some human, others Ork. I stepped forward, past the line of men, and into no man's land.

"They call me Will," I said. "Will of fucking Blackbriar."