Refuge: Kurt's Quest (6 page)

Garios could feel the heat of the battle
against his face, the only thing keeping him from bursting into flame the
Divine protection he had invoked.  The canvas covering of the wagon began to
smoke, even though there was little flow through from the power going out in a
lance of fire.  Most of the flame continued to bounce from the barrier, but
some started to get through, and one of the mages, the youngest, yelled out as
his sleeves caught aflame.  He waved his arms, trying to douse the fire and
only fanning the flames.  And the barrier weakened, and more flame penetrated,
and, like water finding a hole in the dyke, it was the end.  In moments all of
the enemy mages were on fire.  An instant later they were all reduced to ash,
an object lesson for anyone wanting to challenge this young Archmage.

An arrow struck James in the shoulder.  The
young man looked down on the shaft with fire sparking in his eyes.  The shaft
withered away into ash, and the wound, sparking flames, healed.  And Drake
looked with rage out on the soldiers who had injured him.  The men started to
push back, away from the wagon and the alley.  Some more arrows flew in, some
bowmen who thought maybe they could kill the Mage before he could unleash his
fury on them.  Too late.  The arrows converted to ash in flight, the molten
heads falling to the ground, while a wave of flame washed over the soldiers who
had nowhere to escape to.  Scores fell to the ground, burned to death, while
many more were injured by the flames.  Drake’s eyes rolled up in his head in
weakness at the release of power, and he fell to the canvas of the wagon, the
dwarf kneeling beside him, covering the young man with his shield and checking
him for injuries.  The Priest could tell that the young man was still
breathing.  He looked up to see many of the King’s men lying on the ground who
were not.

*     *     *

“You ready?” asked Kurt, looking at Jackie as
she sheathed her blades.

Jackie looked up at the roofline of the two
story building.  Almost all of the buildings of the town were of similar height,
and from here it looked like an easy run along the rooftops back to the gate. 
Or at least easy to someone with the strength and agility of a superhero.

“I guess so,” she said without much
enthusiasm.  She started to flinch as another bowman appeared over the edge,
drawing back an arrow, before another shaft struck him in the chest and flung
him back from the edge.  She glanced over to see Fenris, already notching
another arrow to his enchanted bow and looking for a target.  A half dozen of
the Duke’s men were also archers, and three of them were also scanning the
nearby roofline for targets.

“Let’s get this over with,” she told Kurt.

He gave her a quick kiss, then offered his
linked hands for her to step into.

Jackie put her right foot into the hands, and
was instantly propelled upwards by the massive strength of the big German.  She
pushed off with her own leg as she reached to top of the assist, and rocketed
into the air, rising up above the roofline and tumbling forward into a flip. 
She landed feet first on the shingles, slipping backward a bit before reaching
down with her hand and steadying herself.

She looked up just in time to see an arrow
heading her way, and in no position to do anything about it.

*     *     *

“We need to get in there,” yelled one of the
noblemen who waited with the army outside the gate.

And what the hell do you want me to do about it
, thought Sir Gromli,
looking at the gate that was closed against them.  It was a stout gate, heavy
oak with iron strapping.  To batter it down would take hours, with archers
picking them off from above.

“What are we waiting for,” yelled another
noble, this one a Count.  “The Duke is being assailed in there, and here we
sit, doing nothing.”

Gromli had been left in charge by the Duke,
despite being the social inferior to so many of the leaders of the force.  But
the Duke trusted him above those other people, and so he had been given the
charge.  With the Duke not here, and everyone wanting to act, he was not sure
how much longer he would retain that command.

[I am sending someone to the gate,] came a
powerful voice into the Knight’s mind.  A column of black smoke was rising from
the center of the city, the sign that fire was being used, natural or magical,
against someone.  [She should be there in a couple of minutes.  Be ready to
storm the gates.]

She?
thought the Knight, knowing it could only be
the dark skinned warrior woman who traveled with Kurt.  Normally, Gromli would
not trust a woman to take the gate house.  But the woman was not a normal female.

“Everyone,” he yelled out, looking around at
the gathered men, all armored up, dismounted.  “Get your shields ready.  We are
going to storm the gate.”

“And how are we going to do that?” asked one of
the barons.  “We need a ram to take down that gate.”

“The gate will be opened for us,” said Gromli,
staring across that distance they had to cross, that would be covered by
archers, taking them under fire as soon as they left the tree line.  “That is
what I have been told by Kurt, and I will believe him.  Now, everyone with a
shield, we must form a wall and make our way to the gate.

They were not really a disciplined force, and
it took longer than he wanted to get them ready.  Those with tower shields and
the best armor were in the front rank.  What wizards and priests they had were
in the second rank, where they could be protected by the shields, but still use
their spells to aid the attack.  The rest of the second and the third ranks
would hold their shields overhead, protecting those in the front rank and the
magic users, as well as themselves.  While the crossbowmen and archers took up
the last rank, ready to provide return fire at the archers who would line the
wall.

As they moved out of the tree line it was
apparent that they had been seen from the walls and towers.  There was
gesturing and moving about, people pointing at the advancing men, of which
there were almost a thousand between the Duke’s and his brother nobles’ men. 
They had a hundred meters to walk before they came into arrow range, at least
from common longbows.  They were already in engine range when they started out,
but none seemed to be ready at the moment.

Gromli yelled at the top of his lungs, trying
to keep his people in line.  Some ignored him, and a few knights got out in
front of the line, trying to prove their courage, or their stupidity.

The first flight of arrows came in, and half
the score of men who had left the ranks went down.  Those in the ranks
weathered the storm, taking the shafts on their shields.

“Keep moving,” yelled Gromli at some men who
tried to stop and care for the men who had been shot down.  He looked down at a
knight who was laying on the ground, struggling to take in a breath while he
bled around the arrow sticking from the mail coif around his neck.  “Our liege
lord is waiting for us.”

They kept walking forward, their pace the best
they could maintain with the weight of their armor.  Arrows, and later, bolts,
were coming down, most striking the shields, some bouncing from armor, a few
penetrating through to flesh.  A couple of fireballs left the wall, the sound
of rushing flames almost as frightening as the sight.  Men started to cringe
back, and the shield wall lost some of its cohesion.  The mages in the group
shouted their spells and raised their hands, splashing their fireballs against
quickly erected barriers.

At two hundred meters the soldiers on the wall
got their engines working.  A pair of tower mounted catapults sent heavy rocks arcing
through the air.  The Mages got one, knocking it to the ground before it
reached the ranks.  The other hit the ground just in front of the men, and
rolled through the line with unstoppable inertia that left five men crushed to
death.  Moments later a scorpion put a spear through a shield and the three men
behind it.

The line continued to move forward, absorbing
casualties.  Their own bowmen were able to pick off a few of the enemy archers,
and killed one of the catapult crewmen, but otherwise were ineffectual in
keeping down the enemy fire.

They finally reached the wall and the gate,
losing over seventy men on the way.  And found themselves in a much worse
situation, with people above them not only firing arrows, but now throwing rocks
and spears down as well.

I damn sure hope she gets that gate open soon
, thought the knight, a
heavy stone bouncing from his shield and almost knocking him from his feet. 
Otherwise,
there may not be enough of us left to take this city.

Chapter Five

“Can you get him back to consciousness?” asked
Haraald, looking down on the human Mage who was lying on the ground in a curled
up fetal ball.

“I don’t know when he will come back to us,”
said Garios, looking at Drake with a concerned look.  “He channeled more power
through his body than I thought possible.”

“I heard he was a mighty Mage,” said Haraald,
crouching down as arrows flew over the wagon they were sheltering behind.  A
dozen arrows and bolts flew back in return, as both sides tried to use missile
fire to weaken the other.

“And he’s getting stronger,” said the Dwarf,
putting a hand on the young man’s head and saying a healing word.  “He may get
to the point where a mortal body cannot take the strain.”

Someone screamed out on their side, and Garios was
on his feet in an instant.  “Watch over him,” he yelled at one of the Duke’s
men, pointing at Drake, then ran off to see to the man he knew had to be
seriously injured.  An arrow came over the wagon and struck Garios in the helm,
bouncing off of the tough Mithral it was made of.  He cursed and ran on,
sliding down next to a warrior with an arrow through his arm. 
Not as
serious as I thought
, he surmised as he reached for the arrow to break it
off for removal. 
But he still needs healing, and we need the sword arm.

*     *     *

Their people were not winning the exchange of
missiles, and Kurt realized he needed to do something about it.  The big man
took a running start toward the wagon and rocketed into the air, his feet
clearing the two meter height of the top.  People on both sides of the fight
stared in amazement at someone in full plate doing what he was, his feet
hitting the top of the wagon and propelling him into another jump.  He landed
lightly on his feet, his sword already in motion to kill the closest spearman,
who was trying to spit the Immortal on his weapon.

Kurt went into a whirlwind of an attack, his almost
two meter long blade striking out to kill, then kill again.  A bolt bounced
from his armor, then another.  He backhanded one of the last spearmen between
himself and the archers, then ran six quick steps into the midst of the lightly
armored crossbowmen and archers.  He whirled his blade in a great circle,
slicing into five of the missile men, killing four and sending one man back
holding the stump of a forearm.  Kurt took a step forward and swung the blade
again, killing another trio of the soldiers.

A sharp pain took him out of his killing
frenzy.  He turned in time to see a spearmen withdrawing his long weapon, and
blood spurting from his left forearm, where the head of the weapon had found a
gap in his armor. From the spurt of blood and its color, it was obvious an
artery was severed.  In a normal man that might be a crippling wound.  For an
Immortal it was an inconvenience, and after two more spurts the bleeding
stopped completely and the wound healed.

The spearman’s reward for his attack was a
severed head, then Kurt turned in a fast spin to take out more of the archers,
catching an arrow through the side of his face for his trouble. 
Shit
,
he thought, reaching up a hand and breaking the arrow that protruded through
both cheeks and his mouth.  His face was bleeding heavily, something he really
didn’t have time to deal with, and a wound that would heal just as fast as the
last one.

Kurt became aware of a pair of heavily armed
swordsmen moving his way, backed up by more spearmen, who were trying to form a
circle around the Immortal.  He was having nothing of that, aware that the
hounds could pull down the tiger if enough of them overwhelmed him.  He jumped
back, then took a couple of quick steps, putting his back against the wagon.

The first swordsman ran forward, really more of
a shuffle in his heavy armor, while two spearmen thrust in at the same time. 
Kurt took one spear on his forearm armor, while the other glanced from his
pauldron, and his sword flicked out in one hand to take the swordsman in the
throat.  That man fell back, his sword dropping from his hands so both could
reach for his throat in a hopeless attempt to staunch the life that was pouring
out of him.

Kurt raised his sword and brought it down on
the helm of the spearman to his left, crushing the man’s skull and dropping his
lifeless body to the ground.  He brought the blade back into the air and
repeated the performance on the spearman to his right, in a motion so fast the
man had no time to react.  Then he was back on his guard as more of the enemy
closed in.

Something dropped beside him, and Kurt stopped
himself at the last moment from attacking the Dwarven Priest who now stood to
his left with ax and shield.  More men jumped down from the wagon, until there
were over a dozen armored knights standing with him, while a half dozen more
stood on the wagon holding spears, and the same number of archers, including
Fenri, stood with them, sending shafts into the enemy archers.

The fight went on for some minutes, Kurt’s side
killing scores of the enemy, while losing three of their own.  He thought they
might have a chance at breaking them, when the enemy commander, who must have
thought the same thing, decided to change the equation.

“Back away,” yelled a voice, and all the men,
swordsmen, spearmen and archers alike, stepped back, then to the side. 
Revealing a line of horsemen, a compact mass three or four ranks deep, sitting
their warhorses with couched lances.  And as soon as the footmen were out of
the way they charged behind lowered lances.

*     *     *

Jackie pushed off with her hands and rolled in
the air, the arrow passing within inches of her face.  She completed the roll and
was back on her feet in an instant,
Ice
swishing out of its sheath as
she ran toward the bowman.  The man was trying frantically to get another arrow
notched, his shaking hands fumbling the task.  He just got it seated, looking
up in time to see the bright blue blade coming in, hitting his bow hand,
slicing through while turning the rest of his arm into solid ice and snapping
the bow.  The man screamed and tried to jerk his arm back, shattering it into a
splash of red crystals.  Jackie continued her charge and knocked the shocked
man from the roof, to fall without a sound until he hit the hard cobblestones
below.

Jackie kept running, to the end of the roof,
launching herself just before she reached the edge and vaulting across the
space between buildings.  She landed in a roll on the other rooftop and came to
her feet, moving quickly to the next jump.  Two more arrows shot by, the bowmen
either over or underestimating her speed.  She rocketed into the air at the
next street, then worked her way from roof to roof, heading for the outer wall
and the gate she needed to take.  After another jump there were no more arrows,
she having outdistanced the bowmen the enemy king had stationed on the
rooftops.

The gate towers came into view, each about four
stories tall.  Both tower tops were crowded with men, the one on the left
leaning over and firing bows down at something on the other side of the wall. 
The other tower had men heating oil on a hot fire, and when they were finished
it would be bad news for the men on the far side of the wall.

I’ve got to be fucking crazy
, thought the former
American Army officer, running up, jumping onto a chimney to get some more
height, then leaping into the air.  
I’m not going to make it
, was her
first thought as she looked at the tower wall ahead.  But she rose quickly into
the air, until she cleared the crenellations by a half meter.  She pulled
Fire
from its sheath to join the cold blade, landed on the roof in another roll, and
came to her feet with both swords swinging.

Five of the soldiers moved to engage her,
leaving their bowmen to continue firing down on her friends below.  All were
well armored in mail, with helms and shields.  They were soldiers, but not
knights or men at arms.  They would be a match against most people armed and
armored like Jackie.  Especially since she was a woman.  But not against
someone with her speed, strength and agility, with the heavily enchanted armor
sheathing her body, with blades of almost supreme power.

She moved into them, both swords taking a life
in a couple of seconds.  She then dodged and parried, foiling the attacks of
the two men who moved forward to take over from the men she had just killed. 
Two more strikes and there was only one man left, who started backing away
while shouting for his fellows to stop shooting at people below and engage this
much more dangerous target.

Jackie crossed her blades through the soldier’s
chest, the combination great heat and savage cold exploding his body, taking
out his thorax.  The man fell dead to the roof stones with a blank horrific
expression on his face.  Jackie herself thought for a moment about the terrible
ways her blades dealt death, then dismissed that thought as something she
didn’t need to deal with at the moment.  If she didn’t kill these men, and get
her own people into the tower, her friends in the city would be overwhelmed. 
And that was more important to the soldier that she was than in how she
eliminated these enemies.

Two bowmen turned toward her, raising arrows to
aim at her.  She leapt the distance from where she was standing to them, her
swords swinging in to take their heads off in flashes of cold and heat.  The
smell of sizzling meat and the sight of ice crystals filled the air to her
front.  She moved to the left, taking out the two archers that were still
raining arrows down below, then spun to her right and charged the remaining two
bowmen.

Arrows started coming at her from the other
tower, as well as from along the wall between the tower she was on and the next
emplacement as well.  She ducked down behind the crenellations to plan her next
move. 
I need to keep people from coming up that hatch
, she thought,
moving into a crawl and dragging a body with her, until she had it over the
heavy wooden doorway set into the roof.  She did this three more times, until
she had four armored bodies lying directly over the hatch.  As soon as she had
the last body over the hatch something or someone underneath tried to push it
open, and wasn’t able to due to the weight.

Now to get some people up here
, she thought, grabbing
a coil of rope that was sitting by the catapult.  She crouched to the
crenellation, looping it over one of the projections, then tossing the rest of
the rope over.  She did the same with another length of rope, then looked over
to see a couple of her allies trying to ascend.  It was a difficult task in
armor, but without armor they would not have lasted a moment.  As it was, only
one made it up and through the opening, while the other was knocked from the
rope by a pair of arrows, one of which found the gap in his armor.

“Help me pull the next up,” she told the man, whom
she didn’t recognize.  He looked like a lean and strong warrior, though, and he
grabbed a rope and started working it through his hands.  Again only one man
made it up, the one that Jackie pulled quickly with her superior strength.  The
man climbed through the gap in the crenellation, then helped the other fellow
pull up another man.  It took some minutes, but when they had a dozen men on
the tower they were able to fire arrows back at the enemy, while men with
shields defended them.

“Sir Gromli,” she said to the Knight when he
made his way up.  “I’m going to do something about those bastards over on the
other tower.”  Those men had poured several vats of steaming oil on the
soldiers below, and were busy heating some more to repeat their performance.

“Are you sure you want to go it alone, milady?”
asked the Knight, craning his head to look over at the other tower.

“Do you have anyone who can leap over there
with me?”

“No.  But when we get some more men up here, we
can take the next level down, then assault the wall between the towers.  Then,
possibly, break through that door and into their third level room.”

“Then get a move on and get men up here,” said
Jackie, flashing him a smile.  “In the meantime, I’m going to jump on over and
stop them from pouring that evil stuff on the heads of our men.  And take out
that bastard,” she finished, looking at a man in robes who was releasing
lightning to strike the troops at the bottom of the wall.

Jackie moved to the far side of the tower,
looked at her target area once again, then took off in a short sprint, dropping
into a crouch at the last moment and springing up and out.  Several arrows flew
at her, barely missing as the archers underestimated her speed of motion.  And
then the wizard turned toward her, wand in hand, and sent a black ball of
energy directly into her.

*     *     *

The men tried to scramble back over the top of
the wagon, while Garios, due to his lower height, went under.  Fenris starting
cycling arrows from his bow, one every three seconds, each a hit.  Still, it
did not look like everyone was going to make it in time.

Kurt had been a strong man on Earth.  Standing
over just under two meters, with a heavily muscled body of one hundred and
eighteen kilos, he had always possessed greater strength than anyone he had
known.  Since coming to Refuge his strength had increased to fantastic levels. 
He didn’t know how much stronger he was.  He estimated four times stronger,
maybe more.  And now he used that strength to snatch up an armored body from
the ground and throw it at one of the charging horses with every muscle in his
body cracking.  The hundred kilos of body and armor smacked into the horse with
the clang of metal, and the horse fell back and to the side, interupting the
charge of two other mounts.