Chapter 310: Night Attack and Planning a Trap

Silence-spiders crept across the hills, approaching the encampment’s walls. Three moved across the landscape as one, low numbers decreasing their visibility under the new moon.

Their leader—the Ravener’s Hunter—had waited for a night such as this: the blackest of nights when mortals would be near sightless and vulnerable. It had sensed the usurper’s mana in recent days, and with the new moon above, this would be a perfect time to strike.

Approaching from different directions, three other teams edged toward the walls, intending to overwhelm the mortals’ defences from a number of routes and through sheer numbers. All the Hunter needed was for just one silence-spider to breach the encampment, find the usurper and kill them. Then, their mission would be complete.

The silence-spiders’ minds were not made for complex thought. They were simple creatures, single minded in any task. They did not question orders, nor ask why the Hunter had not accompanied them to the camp, but sent them behind the walls to the usurper’s vicinity alone. All they knew was, “reach the target and kill everyone you find.” Their leader hadn’t pinpointed the quarry’s exact location, only their general area within the wizard’s camp.

For assassins of their skill though, that would be enough.

Slaying the usurper was their ultimate goal, killing as many mortals as they found behind the walls was next; all interlopers would have to be purged in time. It was this purpose that drove them on, silently creeping along the earth, making their way to the wall.

They paused.

A patrol was near, making their rounds along the base of the wall. So, the spiders waited; rejecting the chance for an early slaughter. Killing wizards was also tasked, but only secondary. No good purpose would be served by announcing their presence too soon. The prey would be alerted, and likely escape.

“Caution, always remember caution,” the Hunter had warned.

Once the patrol passed, the Hunter’s first team crept to the bottom of the wall, avoiding the watchful eyes of sentries pacing on top, then, they began climbing.

Halfway up, loud voices split the stillness.

Multi-coloured lights sprang to life all around as the sharp crack of magic and sword blades impacting chitin, echoed through the night.

Another team must have been discovered.

The first team sprang over the wall, determined to reach their prey before it was too la—

“Monsters! Beware!” a mortal voice cried from nearby.

Lights flared around the trio. Magic came from all sides.

The first over the wall was blown apart, struck by a rainbow of force bolts. Another lost one of many legs to a conjured blade of magic. Only two—one wounded—made it from the wall to bolt into the encampment.

They charged toward their quarry’s location as mortals poured from tents around them. Slashing any in their way, the pair pressed on, deadset on finding the usurper. More mortals appeared—unsurprised—and ready for battle. They gripped staffs, swords, and resolve. The wounded silence-spider was undeterred and lunged at the armed mortals, meeting death by a flurry of spells and blades.

But its sacrifice had bought the other precious time.

It scurried toward the target, no longer bothering with distractions in its path, driven by a single goal. Its quarry. A tent was ahead, exactly where the Hunter had sensed the usurper. The spawn sprang, claws poised to stab through fabric and into whoever slept inside.

Thoom.

A massive shape rose from the shadows beside the tent.

A giant silhouette with four arms.

Two fists were swinging straight for the spider.

Smash!

The first cracked five legs, taking them off.

The second smashed through chitin, rupturing the torso and launching it skyward.

Thud!

It landed face up, writhing in the dirt, fighting to right itself.

But, that wasn’t meant to be.

The last thing it saw was a giant, clay foot descending above its head.

Smash!

Alex emerged from his tent into a night filled with shouting and magical lights shooting through the dark. People rushed through the encampment, several were gathered around—

“Holy shit,” he muttered.

—a dead monster in front of his tent.

There was a smashed silence-spider flattened under Claygon’s foot like a squashed fly. All traces of sleepiness immediately fled as the young wizard peered through the dark, looking for more attackers.

But, there was no need.

Already, voices from atop the walls were announcing the end of an attack. The attackers were all dead. Blood mages were pushing through crowds to heal wounded caught in the ambush.

Confused, Alex looked around the outside of his tent. “Theresa!” he shouted. “Where—”

“Alex!” Theresa rounded a nearby tent with both swords in hand and Brutus leading the way. Her hair was utterly wild and her night clothes wrinkled. “Oh thank the Traveller!”

She ran over and hugged him with a crushing grip, the back of her swords freezing his back.

“What the hell happened?” he asked, when she pulled away.

“We got attacked.” A deep voice growled from above.

Alex nearly jumped out of his skin. Grimloch, alongside Khalik and Najyah—came up beside them. He hadn’t heard them approaching.

“Bet they were after the dungeon cores,” the sharkman said. “Bastards. Wish they woulda come by my tent. Wouldn’t mind something that looks like lobster for a night time snack.”

“Well, there is still enough left for more than a snack.” The prince said, pointing at the smashed silence-spider with his short sword. “Dig in.”

“Good point. Don’t mind if I do,” Grimloch licked his lips and stalked toward his snack.

Alex looked away, crunching noises soon filled the air.

“By Uldar!” Carey’s voice caught his attention.

The slight young woman was stumbling through the crowd, staring at the dead silence-spider. She looked like she’d quickly thrown some clothes on, her face was as pale as frozen milk.

She was looking through the gathering crowd then caught sight of Alex and Theresa. She hurried over.

“Egads, do you see the size of that thing?” she gasped, glancing at, then quickly looking away from the sharkman’s feast. “Its claw looks like it could cleave a horse apart! I’ve read and heard tales about those monsters from the priests when they were in Generasi, but to see one…”

“Yes,” Theresa said, heading toward the walls. “And there might be more hiding in the hills. I’m gonna go see if a patrol’s being put together.”

“I shall go with you,” Khalik said.

Najyah gave a short cry.

“No,” the prince told his familiar. “You cannot see that well in the dark Najyah, sending you out alone would only risk you. Come, we’ll search together.”

Carey stared after them as Alex called Claygon to his side.

“More?” Carey murmured.

“Yeah,” he said, watching Theresa. “There’s a lot of awful stuff out there. Still, for what it’s worth, this is the first attack the encampment’s had.”

“That…that is not so reassuring.”

“Welcome back to Thameland, Carey. At least here we can work toward putting an end to these monsters.”

Frowning as he followed the huntress and the prince, Alex wondered what had caused the sudden attack. Was it dungeon cores?

Or was it…something else?

The clawed monsters that had attacked the patrizia’s ball came to mind.

The final Hunter crouched low on a hill, far from the encampment, watching mortals with its sharp eyes. Its senses confirmed the failure of the mission.

Within the safety of its camp, the usurper was still alive, and now the once quiet encampment was alive with activity. If the wizards were alert…it meant the moment had passed.

Growling, it crept down the hill then began loping through the moors, back to the forest where its forces waited. Fury burned in its belly. When it had first sensed the usurper in the encampment, it had been both ecstatic and grim. Ecstatic that it had at last found its prey, grim because the prey was in such a well-fortified location.

The moors were patrolled and defended by these wizards.

Cover was scant. Its forces had few places close to their camp to hide in. Its teeth ground as it loped over the hills. Its new allies, the blue annis hags, had refused to approach the camp, saying that any attack on the wizards would fail.

The Hunter had disagreed: thinking that under cover of darkness and with the silence-spiders’ stealth, the usurper could at least be slain before the mortals could mount a resistance. With that plan, it had set out under the new moon with a small number of fighters while keeping its distance.

If it had stayed with the teams of silence-spiders and been killed, all would have been lost. The loss of twelve spiders was no small price to pay for failure, but at least, it had preserved its own life. Even if the stink of defeat clung, it would live to hunt again.

It loped over hills—dodging flying patrols—until finally, it reached the trees outside the moors and slipped deep into the woods. The lair it shared with the hags and their forces awaited.

An old windmill loomed in a clearing ahead, abandoned since the Ravener’s return. It was a massive structure, filled with grain the mortals had left behind in their rush to escape. What hadn’t been eaten by rats, roaches, and other vermin, was now bedding for the Hunter’s and hags’ allies.

With a growl, it stalked into the windmill, alone.

Scores of glinting eyes and the silhouettes of a dozen owls perched in the rafters above the pair of blue annis hags, greeted it in the darkness. Both sisters sat cross-legged with a clay bowl of stagnant water on the ground between them. They faced each other.

“A bad hunt, was it?” the hag in reptile skins asked.

“Yes, we saw, didn’t we?” her sister in the bird feather robe chimed in. “Our eyes see far and wide.”

The Hunter growled and considered slashing the smug creatures in displeasure. But held back…little good would come from battling its own allies.

Still, it would not let them mock.

“You sat here in safety and did nothing,” it growled.

“Oh, but that is where you are wrong, Ravener spawn,” the hag robed in bird feathers answered. “We have been doing much. Very much over these past nights. Including this very one.”

“You have been hiding in the dark while we have scouted and hunted our common enemy,” the Hunter said. The venom walkers hissed in time with their leader’s simmering anger.

The hags merely snarled in unconcealed amusement.

“We may sit, but our birds do not. They watch,” one said, looking up at the owls. “And they find things. Interesting things.”

“What do they watch?” The Hunter asked. “How do they help? I see none of that.”

“Many things, they see,” the blue annis hag wearing reptile skins said. “They watch our enemies…our friends…” She looked at the Hunter pointedly. “And those who can help us…without knowing.”

Reaching down, she picked up the bowl of stagnant water. Strange symbols were carved in the sides. “Here, look into the water.”

She waved her hand, causing the liquid to shimmer. The foul water displayed an image taken from a bird’s eye view. Quite literally.

The bird watched two creatures.

Fae.

One looked like a tiny woman with the legs of a grasshopper.

The other, a tiny man with green scales and large eyes.

“That one,” the reptile robed hag pointed at the scaly creature. “The asrai faerie. That one has been scurrying about: once my captive—and nearly my dinner—but some of those despised wizards freed him. He thought himself clever and as subtle as a shadow sneaking about, but our eyes see much.”

“What does your food have to do with anything?” the Hunter demanded.

“The little fae searches for an aeld tree to ‘repay a debt’ he has. And who holds this debt?” the hag grinned. “The great fishman, the wizard who controls the clay man, and the three headed dog were among the group that freed him. They are strong fighters.”

The Hunter fell quiet. “So this fae searches for a tree for our enemies? Why?”

“That does not matter,” the hag said. “What matters is our plan. When he finds an aeld tree, our enemies will be drawn to the wilds, away from their stronghold. And we will be watching. And we will be waiting.”

The Hunter growled. That…did not seem like a bad plan.

With several of the enemy’s strongest forces eliminated, they would be weakened; the fight to destroy the rest later would be easier. And that would also mean enemies to interrogate.

And if the Hunter was very lucky…

…the usurper would be among them.

“Tell me,” it said. “What an aeld tree looks like. I will send forces to find one, then we can spring our trap.”