Read Bloodletting Part 1: The Affinities Cycle Book 1 Online
Authors: Mark Ryan
Bloodletting Part 1: The Affinities Cycle Book 1 (21 page)
Guardsmen went down with snapped limbs and crushed skulls. Orocs staggered as blades skewered them from all sides, and midnight blue blood mingled with crimson. One burst into flames, courtesy of Faulks. Then she and the other Volcons conjured balls and sheets of fire, which they launched at any oroc who poked their head over the wall. This stalled the climbers for a minute, and the guardsmen began to reassemble in a semblance of order. There were so few left. Reynolds shook his head, clearing the last of the dizziness away.
Then the most massive oroc he’d ever seen clambered into view. Nine feet tall and wielding a club the size of Reynolds’ leg, it knocked away two men in a single blow. On its return swing, the club shot out into a scythe blade that cut three more guardsmen in half. Flames from the Volcons washed over the juggernaut attacker, but it didn’t seem to even notice. The closer guardsmen scrambled away from the carnage, opening a hole in the defense as more orocs scrambled up.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” Reynolds said.
The creature seemed to hear him through the chaos. It turned and loosed a savage roar his way. The sergeant stepped forward and snagged the flow of time as he did so. He would pay for doing this again so soon, but it was a price he was willing to accept.
Everything around him slowed for an instant—one crucial moment. The oroc froze, gaping in what Reynolds might’ve thought a comical expression if it hadn’t just killed five of his men. He lunged and thrust his sword into its maw and out the top of its skull.
He allowed time to shift back to true, accepting the temporary backlash without moving to safety. Time and exhaustion slammed into his body as hard as the oroc would have. He was only able to keep his feet by hanging onto the hilt of his sword for dear life. The warriors of Drayston needed to see this giant fall to his blade … and so did the orocs.
He tugged his blade free and side-stepped as the oroc collapsed to its knees. One more thing to do. If he could rally the morale of his troops, the day might yet be theirs. He hacked at the oroc’s neck with all his strength, freezing time right as his blade connected. Closing his eyes, the dizziness was too great, he trusted his body to guide itself. The blade sank in a few inches. He yanked the blade out and chopped again. And again.
Never letting go of his grip on time, fighting the nausea welling in his stomach, he chopped until a last fleshy strand connected the giant’s thick neck to its body. He swung one final time, releasing time as the sword arced through the orocs mostly severed neck. To any watching, only a second or two went by before he made a final, grand slash that severed the oroc’s head and sent it flying back over the rampart. Oroc and human alike froze, while a greater cry rose from the attackers beyond the wall.
Reynolds stepped into the breach and guardsmen fell in on both sides. Vomit and blood dripped down his chest, the price of his overuse of his magic. But no one of the soldiers noticed. They simply saw their sergeant, triumphant. A cheer coursed down the human lines and reinforcements began to beat down the remaining orocs, while fewer appeared over the ledge. Then a horn rang out in the crisp night air, and a lull fell over the fray.
Geists were already at work, pulling the wounded from the lines and healing them enough to keep them fighting. They carried the worst cases off on stretchers towards the infirmary, where Healer Alma and his team would be at work all night, saving what lives they could.
Reynolds peered about for Illamer’s group and spotted them closer to the western corner. The earth around them had been pockmarked by boulders and a number of orocs lay impaled by ballista bolts. Most of the Lord Major’s men appeared to have survived thus far, though a good number had lost their horses and now fought on foot.
A noise caught his ear, and he realized Faulks muttered to herself, counting off on her fingers. Then she exchanged looks with the grouped Volcons and raised a fist high overhead, a signal to prepare.
An officer cried, “Release!” and several ranks of archers loosed waves of arrows into the sky. They sped up as they fell, faster than gravity should’ve accounted for. The Volcons tracked their flight and then spread their arms in unison. Their eyes blazed orange as each arrow burst into flames before thudding into the oroc horde.
The forest dwellers hooted in dismay, but then the earth around them churned and splashed over those who’d caught fire. Soon, mud smothered any lingering flames and few of the orocs fell from the attempt.
A tremor shook the ground, followed by several more. Reynolds glimpsed a large, dark shape fly over the castle wall, out above the orocs.
“Light the night!”
Lieutenant Heiml’s command came from her post atop the eastern tower. Reynolds echoed the order weakly. Mikkels appeared at his side and shouted the order. Two pitch-soaked bundles of hay flew into the sky at the center of twin air vortexes. The balls ignited with a burst of yellow light and illuminated the orocs still swarming the field. They’d eliminated almost half their number now. Drayston’s numbers were far too low. Reynolds didn’t even want to guess at how many had died so far.
“What …” Mikkels’ grabbed Reynolds’s arm, steadying him. “What’re those for?”
Reynolds spotted what Mikkels was pointing at. Great swaths of earth had disappeared, and over a dozen smooth boulders sat in the center of the oroc army. Just as he spotted this, one of the spheres rose, propelled into the air by an earthen pillar that bent toward the castle as it grew. Five more boulders launched in turn, but none struck the walls. Instead, they soared into the courtyards with eerie accuracy. The wall shuddered beneath Reynold’s feet at their impact.
Then his blood stilled as he saw more of the giant spheres manifest. Hollow. They made them hollow so several orocs could cram inside one at a time. The oroc army had found a way past the ice.
“Voids.” Faulk’s voice held a perfect balance of awe and fear. “I didn’t know they could do that.”
***
Chapter 46
Tetra Bicks
The sounds of battle rose outside the walls. Tetra hunched in the archway between the training yard and infirmary, trying to envision what went on beyond his sight. From here, he could see out into the front court, crowded with guardsmen. Torches lit in rapid succession, and Sergeant Reynolds’ shout echoed above those of the other officers. With over eight hundred soldiers guarding the castle, it was hard to make heads or tails of what was happening. A massive glow from outside the castle walls lit the night.
He gasped as orocs strove into view along the battlements of the front wall, and skirmishes broke out all along the line. The sight of the creatures and the flames lighting the night pulled him back to Jaegen for a moment, thrusting him into a vivid memory of burning homes with the corpses of friends and family lying all about. He shook the vision away, refusing to be distracted at such a critical time.
Bealdred stood in the middle of the training yard, a lone, dark figure among the green and gold guardsmen. He had his war hammer out, but held back, watching as men and women above fought and died.
“Shouldn’t you help?” Tetra called.
Bealdred glanced back. “I am helpin’, y’git. I’m the reinforcements. Now shut it and stay put.”
Archers aimed pitch-soaked, broad head arrows at the stars. “Release!” an officer shouted and the volley hissed into the sky. They soared up over the wall, where Volcons ignited them mid-flight. Then they accelerated down out of sight as Archons pushed them along with their kinetic magic.
An inhuman howl arose from outside the wall and a more intense light flared, but died out almost as quickly as it began. Lord Drayston’s cursing echoed from his perch at the tower command post overlooking the battle.
Then, less than five minutes into the battle, a huge ball of earth soared over the wall. It was followed by four more before it could impact in the courtyard. Guardsmen scrambled out of the way as they struck the ground, crushing the ice. The one closest to Tetra stopped exactly where it landed, as though stuck in place. Shouts rose from the main line as more of the boulders crested the battlements. A guardsman screamed, and then the pitch of his cry changed as he flew from the wall. More cracking booms resounded as spheres landed throughout the area, several striking inside the training yard itself.
Tetra stepped towards one, eyeing its smooth exterior. “They’re missing the walls.…”
“Tetra, no!”
In unison with Bealdred’s shout, the spheres bristled with earthen spikes, which exploded out in every direction. Tetra didn’t have time to drop. His affinity took over, hardening his leather training armor. He crossed his arms in front of his face, a meager effort to protect his head. An invisible claw gripped his spine as spike ricocheted off him. One spike embedded in the wall just above him and Tetra redoubled his efforts to keep his armor impenetrable.
Drayston soldiers cried out as the missiles knocked them back or whirled them to the ground in bloody sprays. Three struck Bealdred, bouncing off his armor. The spikes crumbled to dust along with the boulders, revealing orocs contained within. The beasts charged forth, shrieking battle cries.
One of the orocs headed straight for Tetra, who still struggled to recover his wits from the shock of the attack. As the creature charged, he raised his mace in what he knew to be a futile defense. Bealdred barreled into the beast’s side. Whatever the Dreadknight had done was beyond Tetra’s ken. The oroc exploded in a mist of blood and falling limbs as Bealdred ran through him.
Another oroc came in, swinging a club that sprouted stone spikes. Tetra gaped, but his training took over. He whirled the mace past Bealdred’s back, scything the spikes off as mace impacted club. The Dreadknight spun, using his momentum to lash out with his war hammer. The club shattered against his armor while Bealdred’s two-handed blow shattered the oroc’s body in return. It flew through the air and slammed into another intruder, sending both to the ground.
Bealdred shouted at Tetra, “The tower! Go!” right before another stone club broke over his back. Without looking, he swung, bashing the oroc’s head from its shoulders. Tetra froze. It had been seconds and he was covered in blood. Feeling like he was fighting his way through mud, Tetra moved towards the infirmary while garrison soldiers engaged the invaders.
Six more oroc spheres crested the wall and crashed, disintegrating and unleashing more enemies. Bealdred waded into them, devastating sweeps of his mace annihilating everything in his path. He was doing more damage than any score of soldiers combined. All of the childhood legends of the Dreadknights floated through Tetra’s mind. They weren’t just stories.
Tetra couldn’t take his eyes off the Dreadknight as he backed up towards the infirmary wing. Bealdred’s raw power went beyond anything he’d imagined. He’d only begun to teach Tetra how to combine his affinity with combat, and manipulating density still hurt his spine. It’d be a long while before he could charge fearlessly into the heart of an enemy force, if ever. For the first time he was seeing beyond his vengeance, doubting himself.
Tetra bumped into a wall behind him—but he’d just come through an archway. There shouldn’t be a wall behind him. He turned just as the oroc did. The beast loosed a ferocious growl and attacked.
He leapt aside as the club smashed the ice where he’d stood. His neck throbbed as he increased the weight of his feet, steadying himself. A handful of orocs lumbered through the yard outside the infirmary, but they had a wild, even panicked air. Guardsman harried them from all sides, but many of the beasts ignored the soldiers and bashed away at the icy ground. Of course. They fought to reach the earth and stone to empower themselves once more. Tetra ducked another swing of the club, backing up.
The oroc facing Tetra reared for another attack, but a guardsman attacked from its side. Ice shards rose and spun into a whirlwind around the beast, slicing all over its exposed skin. Initially it had little effect, other than confusing the oroc, but after a couple seconds, the ice started to slice through the living clothes of the beast, rending the bark like flesh.
The Siren guardsman kept out of reach, concentrating to maintain the conjuration. The oroc’s club lengthened into a spear, which shot through the man’s hip and pinned him to the ground. Blood dripped down the spear and the guard screamed in pain. The icy vortex fell to the ground, shattering on the icy courtyard. Reshaping the spear back into a club, the oroc staggered over to the guard, now collapsed.
Save her.…
the words soared through Tetra’s heart.
Stepping forward, Tetra swung the mace at the oroc’s exposed back. As the crafted hunk of metal landed, he drew weight and density out of everything he could, shoving it into the mace’s flanged head. Weighted metal ripped through the oroc’s shoulder, separating the arm holding the club from its body. The mace sailed free and Tetra rocked with the motion, swinging it over his head in a second arc. This time it connected with the back of the oroc’s skull. Head crushed, the beast collapsed. Dark fluid pooled across the ice.
The guardsman stared at Tetra in astonishment. Tetra stared back. Oddly, the puckered gash in the man’s leg didn’t bleed. Tetra realized the man used his water magic to keep his vital fluids contained. He reached his free hand out to the downed man, and they locked grips. Tetra heaved him up, boosting his overall weight to anchor both of them.
The main infirmary door stood twenty paces away, across a smaller side yard filled with fighting men and orocs. The pain in Tetra’s back screamed at him as he kept a hold on the limping guardsman. They staggered along, trying to get around the skirmish. His back hadn’t hurt this much since he’d woken after Jaegen, but surrendering to it now would put a man’s life at risk—a man who’d almost sacrificed himself for Tetra. He concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, trying to imagine he was back in his bedroom, just going for one more lap from bed to chair to side table.
As they reached the far side of the courtyard, an oroc mashed another soldier to pulp and then turned on them. Tetra thrust his mace out, but his hold on the guardsman hampered his attack.
The infirmary door flung wide. Tetra glimpsed Alma’s long face peering out in shock. Then a furry figure streaked low across the ground, and the oroc roared as Kafa sank his fangs into its leg. The oroc kicked, flinging the hound away. Tetra didn’t wait for the oroc to notice him again. Pulling free of his companion, he got in front of the wounded guardsman.
He lightened his body to dodge a blow with unnatural alacrity. His ankle turned to the side, his body followed. Just like Mikkels had taught him. Stone club smashed into the ground right where he had been standing. Then he darted in, ducked another club swing, and weighted the mace as it rammed into the oroc’s knee. The joint crumpled, and he suddenly stood eye-level with the beast. Its breath huffed over him. Tetra was shocked to discover that its breath smelled like spring blooms. Ignoring the flowery smell, Tetra sealed its mouth with an upward swing that shattered its jaw and sent huge, off-white teeth flying.
His back spasmed and he almost fell alongside the monster—but the guardsman caught him under the arm. Together, supporting each other, they reeled into the infirmary and collapsed. Kafa hobbled in after, keeping weight off his front right paw, and Alma slammed the door, shutting out the chaos.
Tetra writhed against the pain knotting along his spine, or at least tried to as much as his back brace allowed. His stomach turned. He had just taken lives. Seen lives lost. He won the fight with his back, but lost the fight with heart. Tears trickled down his cheeks. Firm hands pressed him down.
“Stay still, you fool,” the healer said. “You’ll bruise your thick skull thrashing about like this.”
For some reason, Tetra found this hilarious, even through the agony and tears. His strained laughs filled the room, the only mirth among the moans of the wounded and dying.
***