The Vitalis Chronicles: Tomb of the Relequim (21 page)

“
They're human.”

“
Who?”

“
The scrappy ones we saw runnin' through the forest.”

“
Is that a good thing?”

The Fisherman didn't respond. He just sat staring out through the grass. Ardin, for his part, could barely make anything out between the trees.

“
There, lad. Look.”

The Fisherman pointed over the foot of the butte to where Ardin could make out the appearance of the larger group. They were moving slowly. He could hear them marching now. There was a sort of chant pushing them onwards. It was indistinct, but it sounded totally foreign. Every once in a while a whip would sound out among the men, releasing a crack and eliciting a scream. It made Ardin's skin crawl.

He could see the large creatures that drove them now. Their shoulders were broad and slightly slouched. He couldn't tell if the gnarled plating on their backs was armor or skin. Either way, they made his stomach twist and mouth go dry in revulsion. They were hideous.

“
What are they?”

“
The slaves? Men and women I would suppose.”

“
No, the big black things.”

“
Ah, those bastards. They were men once. Their fathers were at least. Twisted creatures. The Demon mingled their blood with all different breeds of animal. Now he has a variety of monsters, of which those are but one kind.”

“
They were men once?”

“
Not those ones, no. They were ne'er men; ne'er will be. They're bent to the will of their master, and with no will rests no humanity. If those black demons are around I'm afraid there is more yet in store for us to discover.”

“
What do you mean?”

But the Fisherman's response was a simple finger over his lips. He gestured back towards the group with a nod as the first monster screamed.

Suddenly there was a panic among the creatures, both great and small. Dark arrows passed through the trees with the whisper of the wind. Ardin could hear them thud into their victims from where he was. It took at least eight or nine of the darts to bring down a single beast. But they seemed completely unprepared and taken by surprise.

As if in response to the desperation of their situation, the two things in the back of the column drew crude blades from their belts and started hacking their way through their hostages. Blood flew as men screamed and died under the crooked iron.

The ambushers left their posts then, flung into the fray by the plight of their charge. They flew towards the enemy. Ardin watched as they dropped from trees and appeared from the grass. He could see their bows now, tall and black. Almost as long as the archers were tall. There were at least two dozen of them; three of the slavers remained.

The slaves scattered as best they could, but risked their lives as the remaining monsters attempted to cut off escape. The rescuers pierced their midst with precision, gaining what advantage they could keep as they approached their enemies.

The slavers roared their challenge, cracking whips and swinging blades as their fury erupted. Now they could see their foes. Now they could fight.

The Fisherman started to move forward. Ardin followed. They stayed crouched at first, moving as quietly as before, but soon the old man broke out into a sprint. He saw something he did not like and wasn't waiting any longer.

Even as they ran, it quickly became apparent to Ardin that the rescuers were losing the advantage. There was a reason it only took ten of those things to manage a few hundred men. They were massively strong. It looked like they could uproot any of the nearby trees without a second thought. And they were easily as tough as they were strong. It became painfully obvious as the ambushers engaged them.

Ardin could feel the Fisherman's tension as he almost screamed at them to stop. But they pressed on. They were discouraged from firing for fear of hitting the slaves, if not for lack of ammunition. And encouraged by the relative success of their ambush, they moved in for the fight. It did not go well.

The first of the men to the melee barely came up to the chest of the monster he assailed. The initial thrust of his blade was parried easily enough. Before he knew it, the monster had its mangled claw around his throat. It hauled him off the ground so hard that he lost his sword, and before he could so much as kick at the monster, it thrust its own square blade into his belly.

Blood and entrails burst out of the man's back as the jagged iron forced its way through bone and flesh. The monster let go of his throat and swept its weapon to the side. The corpse followed the motion and slid off roughly as the monster's arm came to a stop. It kept its arms open wide and lowered its face to its enemies' level. It roared.

Ardin was taken aback by the violence of the sound. The thing's mouth was so large that its head appeared to tilt back on a hinge. Its teeth were relatively small and spaced out, but jagged and sinister-looking nonetheless.

The men attacking it hesitated. Their heedless charge was checked for a moment before a few brave souls dashed in. They came from three directions, attempting to surprise or at least overwhelm the creature. It swung its square cleaving blade to the left at the closest attacker. He rolled under the blow and jumped up, thrusting his sword into the monster's ribcage. It seemed to bite, but hardly pierced the thing's armor-like skin.

The slaver yelled in anger and batted the man down before whipping around and catching the next assailant in the chest. The man was lucky, the blade was flat. It still broke his ribs as it made contact. He went flying into the bushes and didn't get back up. The third man, bearing an ax, spun as he came within range of the beast. It turned to face him as the ax came around full circle and down on its forehead.

The monster wore some sort of circlet. It looked almost like it had melted part-way into the thing's skull. Emblazoned on the front was a rune that glowed a dim red. The ax ground to a halt in the middle of the rune, splitting some of the creature's skin but leaving it otherwise unhurt. Black blood oozed out in response to the strike. The rune flared to life. With the rune came another blood-curdling roar. The creature grabbed the ax handle with its left claw. With its right it hammered the man in the face with the pommel of its sword. The impact was so heavy that his head caved.

Ardin stopped running at the sight. He wanted to vomit. His head started to spin as the Fisherman picked up the pace and left him behind. The other two creatures were closing in from the sides now, having abandoned all hope of containing their captives. They bellowed their own cries as they lumbered forward.

The men closest to the fight began firing their darts at the injured creature. It was no longer surrounded by their kindred. They could shoot without fear of the repercussions. The darts, however, seemed to have no effect as the creature sauntered forward. It wrenched the ax free from its circlet, took one step, and spun. To Cid, it happened in slow motion. As it came around, it flung the ax as hard as it could into the nearest archer. The man was caught off his feet by the impact and carried into the trunk of a nearby tree.

Cid ignored the beast in front of him and broke to the left. He dropped his gear and pulled his hefty sword from its sheath. It shone in the light of day, glittering in anticipation of battle after being so long neglected.

Cid took no note of it. His heart was racing. He needed to move quickly before the three creatures got within reach of each other. If they could help one another, things would go from bad to worse.

He shouted to the nearest archer to aim for the rune. To knock it off its head. Whether the man listened to him or not he couldn't know, he had no time to hesitate. That was the leader of this pack, the only one with its master's overt protection. It would be hard to kill, harder yet while wearing that circlet.

The monster on the left was the closest to Cid. Thankfully they weren't built to move quickly. He circled to its left before it saw him. Moving low to the ground, he watched carefully as it continued towards its leader. The tall grass flowed past him; he put a hand out to feel the stalks as they went by. Seeking reassurance. Something calm. Something solid.

The monster was past him now on his right. Cid circled around, weaving through the trees like a fox on the hunt. It had been a long time since he had faced one of these things.

As he got closer he could smell it. The rank stench of rotting flesh rolled off of it like a mist. He could see the open sores between the plate-like sections of its hardened skin. It would have made him choke, but his mind was focused.

Dunmar.
He remembered suddenly.
That's what they used to call these things. Once-men.

He found the exposed area on its back; he knew it would be there. He took a breath. And he sprung.

The monster had a few darts in its hunched shoulders but it seemed not to notice. Its mind seemed set on getting to its comrades before the little rebels overwhelmed its leader. The loss of the rest of its party was distressing it, he could tell, as its head jerked from side to side to keep an eye on its surroundings. But the fight appeared to be swinging in its favor, and that would restore some of the thing's confidence. The humans would have to get close now. Within range of its thirsty blade. The Dunmar would be sure that the rusty iron would get its fill.

It may not have felt the darts much, but it did feel the Cleaver. The shallow point split through the tough skin with ease. The creature straightened as it stood and dropped its own weapons. Its beady eyes spread wide as it stretched to grasp its assailant.

But Cid was already pushing off with his feet. His cloak whipped around his legs as he wrenched the sword free and rolled into the grass. The monster railed against the air, pounding invisible foes with its fists until it realized there were none. It stopped, gulping in air with a thick rasp that was more pronounced than usual. It didn't look certain that there had ever even been an attacker. With a confused look on its face, the thing moved to grab its whip. It bent over. No sooner had the Dunmar's claws grasped the thick black handle did its legs catch fire.

Cid raked his massive blade along the monster's hamstrings once and again. These creatures' knees bent like a man's, and like a man, they needed tendons and muscles to operate. Now they were slit. The monster stood up straight. Arching its back, it twisted to strike at the assailant it was now certain existed.

Cid was already gone. Hidden in the grass and waiting for the monster to fall. It only took a moment before the thing tried to walk. It lost its balance and fell face-first over a log. The Captain didn't miss his chance. He sprung from the tall grass and onto the monster's back. With all of his weight behind the strike he thrust the broad blade into the back of the thing's skull. Thick black blood erupted along the silver steel as it slid home.

The beast quivered violently once, then lay still.

Cid stood on its back, breathing hard. His mind went blank for a moment. Sweat coated him now as he pulled the blade free. He allowed himself a smile. It was actually a bit easier than he remembered.

He wiped his sword in the grass as he began to run, leaving a trail of rancid black goo to mark his path towards the other two Dunmar. The men were out of darts and the two monsters were within reach of each other. Things had just gotten exponentially more dangerous.

With the two creatures working together there was no surprise. No jumping on their backs. They would keep each other clear. Punishment would swiftly follow any form of bravery. And unfortunately for the humans, these things weren't dumb animals. A bit slow on the uptake, yes, but not stupid.

They hacked and beat down any opposition that presented itself. It almost looked like they were enjoying themselves, though their villainous grins were permanent features of their mangled faces.

Cid slowed, observing events unfold and waiting for an opportunity. One thing was certain to him: unless he could break the spell of that circlet there was no winning this fight. He moved around to the left, placing himself in the least observable position that he could. Things were beginning to look hopeless. Only half of the original ambush remained in the fight. Cid realized that they were on the verge of breaking.

And then the second monster caught wind of something. Cid couldn't tell what it was. But it immediately began to walk away from its leader and away from the fight. The old man grinned at the sight and dashed forward.

As expected, the leader was caught off guard by its departing partner. It stopped fighting momentarily to howl for its return. It was in that moment, when its back was turned and its concentration broken, that it felt the Cleaver's bite.

More than that, Cid had remembered what the Magi had taught him of enchantments. Just a simple spell, but a powerful one in repelling the Demon's magic. He screamed it now as he lunged from the grass with the sword over his head. He brought the blade down in time to make contact across the monster's skull, followed by a loud crack as steel struck iron. His feet caught the monster in the back. It teetered.

The world flashed red for Cid as the enchantment went to work. It forced its way into the circlet, seeking to break its bond with the magic. And in an instant it succeeded. The circlet shattered with another flash of light. The impact cast Cid backwards as the monster toppled forward and vomited. Its bond with the magic was as old as memory served; now it was gone.

It retched again and then tried to pick itself up. It got to one knee before the first blade struck it in the eye. It swung its blade in blind response, cutting its assailant in half as it lost its balance. Teetering forward on its knee brought its good eye closer to the next blade, and to utter darkness.

The monster screamed against the pain and fear that came upon it now. But it was too late. The remaining members of the ambush leaped on it. Together they plunged their blades as deep as they would go. They stabbed over and over until the thing lay still and stinking in the grass.