Even Gods Must Fall (19 page)

Boen nodded, his face turned grim. “I know. The Goblins have struck. I stumbled on the scene earlier in the day. Damned nasty sight if you ask me. I don’t think I’ve seen one worse. Any sign of them now?”

“No but we have to assume they’re heading for the same place we are,” Bahr answered.

“Doesn’t look like any of us are meant to survive.”

“Sure doesn’t.”

Boen scratched the stubble on his chin. “So what’s our next move?”

“We don’t really have a choice. Ingrid and her crew have finished taking care of the remains. We need to get back to the main body and drive on to Arlevon Gale. One way or another the war is going to end in the next two days,” Bahr said.

“Guess there’s no point in wasting time.” He left the obvious unspoken. Should the Goblins reach the ruins first and have time to emplace, there was every likelihood of Bahr not breaking through to stop the ritual.

“What’s he doing here?” Ingrid asked. The surprise in her voice bordered on suspicion. Gaimosians were a level up from mercenaries in her opinion. It wasn’t inconceivable that he might have switched sides for personal gain.

“I got tired of wandering through the wilderness. Skaning’s people aren’t half as tough as they pretended,” Boen answered with a deep rumble.

Bahr shifted his gaze between the two, picking up on the almost miniscule tension springing to life between them.
Just what I need, yet another power struggle in the group. What did I do to deserve this?

“We’re losing time here, Ingrid,” he intervened before anything damaging was said. Bahr made a mental note to confront her once they were alone.

Her eyes flashed a hint of anger before her mask settled back into place. “Of course. The others must be growing concerned by now. Form up!”

Bahr fell into line beside her and began the short march back to the rebels. His mind was locked in a spiral of conflicting policies. At some point he was going to have to make a decision on which one was best to follow.

* * * * *

Orlek paced nervously around the supply wagon. His face was twisted in concern. Hands clasped tightly behind his back, the rebel leader walked faster the more he became worried. Ironfoot emptied his pipe on a boot heel and frowned. Still a stranger to Men and their unnecessarily intricate ways, the Dwarf resisted the urge to reach out and slap Orlek.

“Would you relax already?” he growled.

Orlek paused in midstride. “How am I supposed to do that? She never should have gone out there in the first place!”

“She doesn’t seem the sort to take orders easily,” Ironfoot replied. “That’s the kind you want with you when things get dark.”

“Ingrid is almost as stubborn as I am, making it harder to accept her place in this mess. We can’t afford to lose her.”

Ironfoot’s thick, bushy eyebrow rose sharply. “We or you?”

Orlek gaped in shock. Until now he’d believed their love was secret. If it was that transparent to the Dwarf, how much worse was it to the rest of the rebellion? The consequences might become disastrous if word got out and it was received wrong.

Ironfoot chuckled. “Love is love. Doesn’t matter what the race is. You have it in your eyes, Orlek. I’d be willing to bet there’s plenty of folks here that picked up on it long before I did.”

“Damned if that don’t confuse all,” Orlek muttered after regaining his wits. “Here I was worried over keeping the matter private and it’s been written on my face the whole time. What would you do in my place?”

“Dwarf women are slightly fiercer than Humans. They have a tendency to leave lumps on the skull. More than one warrior was forced to take a day of rest for being pigheaded.”

Orlek grinned. “Yourself included?”

The Dwarf captain shrugged and barked a laugh. “Never said I was perfect.”

“Excuse me, Commander, but Lady Ingrid has returned.”

Orlek returned the makeshift salute of the courier. “Thank you. Inform group leaders to ready the march. We should be leaving shortly. I want scouts and flankers assembled in ten minutes. We’re not stopping until we reach the ruins.”

Another salute and the courier was away, leaving Orlek and Ironfoot alone again. The Dwarf chewed idly on a green stem, giving Orlek time to get his mind right. Some things needed to be overcome internally. Hefting his axe, Ironfoot gave a chuckle and ambled back to his group. No doubt Bahr would have plenty to discuss upon his return. Fond memories of his wife waiting back in Drimmen Delf kept him warm while he walked.

He found Bahr, along with Boen, already talking with the others. Ironfoot was just as surprised as the rest had been upon seeing the Gaimosian back among them. He had quietly figured never to see the big man again. Few were capable of fighting off a few hundred determined enemies. Still, it did much for morale to have Boen back. Ironfoot doubted even the stalwart Vengeance Knight would be enough to help turn the tide.

“…way I figure it we need to come in slow under the cover of night. There are no maps of the ruins and I haven’t been there since I was child,” Bahr said and paused. “Ironfoot, is all well?”

“Aye, was just conversing with Orlek. When are we leaving?” the Dwarf answered.

“Now. We’re out of time.”

Drums began to beat, sounding the call to march. Bahr rolled up his parchment and stuffed it back into his shoulder pack. Rebels formed ranks for accountability before joining the long column of march. Bahr and his group stood off to the side at the head. Their task was the main focus with the rebels being secondary players. The Sea Wolf looked back over the hundreds of Delrananians waiting to make the fateful walk to what would amount to slaughter on a scale none could comprehend. He didn’t know why, but pride swelled in heart. He may not be the king, but these were his people nonetheless. Bahr found the task ahead slightly more manageable than a moment before.

Decision Point

Skaning folded his looking glass. Confusion twisted his features. He’d lost countless lives and valuable time in Harnin’s court attempting to hunt down first Ingrid and now Boen. Weeks lost on the vain pursuit of glory. His dreams of catching and killing the king’s brother while ending the rebellion would force Harnin to elevate him to a major leadership position, possibly next in line for the throne. That dream shattered like fresh ice striking stone.

He watched what had to be the full might of the rebel army assemble and strike east. There was no mistaking the Giant at the head of the column, meaning Bahr was with them. What dark alliance had they made and where were they going? Skaning wished he knew. His enemies had formed an alliance of convenience. His strength diminished to the point of combat ineffectiveness, Skaning could do little more than watch his dreams march under the boots of two thousand rebels.

His mercenaries presented another problem. Their last encounter with the Gaimosian turned many squeamish, forcing their dissent and the call for abandoning their job. Skaning had nothing to offer when they’d paid with nearly thirty lives. Many wanted to turn on Skaning and collect payment, thinking the rebels would be eager to have such a worthy prize presented. They spoke when they thought he wasn’t listening, but word spread quickly in small camps. Skaning decided there was but one move he could make before the mercenaries came for his head.

“Captain Arle, summon the command. We have new orders.”

The mercenaries, clearly unhappy with their lot, swore to conduct their task with their all. Never before had they been this close to their ultimate goal, and payment. Skaning had sent the word for all splinter cells to return to the main body. They raced ahead of the rebels, hoping to get into ambush position in time to kill both Ingrid and Bahr before the rebels managed to gather their wits.

Dressed only in dark colors and without cumbersome armor, they stalked across the snow like arctic predators. Any metal objects were secured to their bodies to prevent excess noise. Their faces and hands were painted with charcoal. Weapons were blackened to prevent moonlight from giving them away. Secrecy was their only advantage. Secrecy and the rebels not suspecting such a bold move this far from their camps.

Skaning ran with them. He had little choice. The mercenaries would have killed him if he tried to back away. Men seldom risked their lives for others without proper cause. Mostly honorless, the mercenaries’ foul-tempered glares were enough to force Skaning’s actions. It had been a long time since he’d raised a sword in battle. What was supposed to be a punitive mission against Jarrik and Inaella left his honor dissatisfied. Jarrik had committed suicide and the pock-faced woman was nowhere to be seen. This raid was his only chance at redemption.

The mercenaries moved with surprising speed. Well fed and hydrated, they practically sprinted across the windswept plains separating them from their prey. Skaning felt exhilarated. The thrill of the hunt caught in his veins and he quickly lost himself to the chase. There was untold promise with each movement. Lord Death followed in his chariot, gleefully riding their trail of disaster to the inevitable conclusion.

They were well beyond the point of turning back. Skaning committed the entirety of his force on one fatal move. More than likely he would only succeed in getting his command killed, but there was always that miniscule chance that they would kill their targets in the process. Ending the rebellion was his only official task but that had devolved into a quest for revenge. Ingrid and Bahr had conspired to murder a fourth of his crack forces, no doubt willing to continue until all were dead. This was more than personal now.

Talking quickly turned to hand signals. Skaning halted as his mercenaries dropped to their knees and drew their weapons. Footsteps and the jangle of armor and wagons could be heard coming down the abandoned lane. Skaning grinned savagely as he spied the first hints of torchlight dancing off of the surrounding trees. They’d done it. They’d gotten ahead of the rebellion and taken them unawares. The lord of Delranan drew his sword and waited.

Cold breath came out in plumes of mist. His chest heaved from exertion. Young and relatively in shape, he hadn’t expected to cover such long distances. The mercenary nearest cast an angered glance back to Skaning at the sound of his breathing, fearing it would give them away. The drawn dagger cupped at his waist told Skaning he was dead if he didn’t get his breathing under control.

A pair of crossbowmen rose up slightly, just enough for Skaning to catch their actions. No doubt others on both sides of the road were doing the same. He gripped his sword tighter. The first rebel scout came into view and was murdered from behind. Throat cut, the rebel died with a muffled cry as his body was dragged into the woods. The whiz of arrows cutting through the night air followed by high-pitched cries suddenly erupted around him. Skaning got caught up in the fervor, adding his roar to the others as he burst from cover and attacked.

* * * * *

Groge yawned, his great mouth a seemingly endless vacuum capable of swallowing the world. Tired, the young Giant was still capable of going several more days before needing to rest. His strength reserves far outlasted the others but he was part of a team and acquiesced to their needs and desires in the name of friendship and camaraderie. He had come to enjoy their banter, though far from professing to understand it. Most of all he appreciated the taciturn Dwarf. They were closest in kin despite their obvious size difference.

Ironfoot marched opposite of the Giant. They had the best night vision of the entire column and Bahr had no qualms about throwing them to the head of the column. The Dwarf relished the chance to show his tactical prowess this deep into what he considered enemy territory. Anienam reassured him the ruins were still too far away to worry about the Goblin army. All they needed to do was keep a clear eye out for roving patrols. No one in the command structure believed they were going to run into anything substantial. All thought was focused on the coming struggle against the Dae’shan and their army.

The unlikely pair was less than fifty meters behind Ingrid’s scouts. With thoughts turned inward, the rebel army marching behind them, Groge and Ironfoot failed to spy the hidden enemy lurking ahead before they managed to kill the first of Ingrid’s forces. Ironfoot reacted first, drawing his axe and ducking behind an ash tree. He bellowed warning back to the column moments before dark-clothed mercenaries burst from the shadows.

Groge stared down at the smaller figures in shock. A month ago he wouldn’t have known how to react, but the series of running engagements with various enemies and the subtle urgings of power coursing through the Blud Hamr transformed him on fundamental levels. He no longer gawked wide-eyed as armed combatants came at him. The Hamr infused him with anger. Groge pulled his war bar clear and attacked.

The mercenaries recoiled upon seeing the Giant youth attacking. Their intelligence failed to mention the full extent of the menagerie Bahr had collected on his travels. Had they known a Giant was among them many wouldn’t have stayed with Skaning. Not that it mattered now. Groge dove into the enemy with recklessness only youth possessed. He caught the lead attacker across the side of the head. A sickening crunch echoed through the trees as the mercenary was driven to the ground, dead before he hit. Two others died before they realized what was happening. Groge hurried after the others, oblivious to the dark crossbow shafts bouncing from his iron-thick hide.

Ironfoot watched the Giant attack and felt sudden shame at being outdone by a race who claimed to despise violence. Snarling savagely, the Dwarf used Groge’s diversion to plow into the milling enemy ranks. His axe reaped a terrible toll in those first moments. An arm lopped off. A head rolled away. Slow to react, the mercenaries soon decided fighting the Dwarf was vastly more preferable than trying to battle a Giant.

Figures dashed past him. Ironfoot knew there was nothing to be done about that. He now had his hands full with a half dozen mercenaries trying to stab him. No matter how many got past him they wouldn’t amount to much trouble. Bahr and Ingrid had more than two thousand armed combatants with them, not to mention a Vengeance Knight. The enemy was as good as dead already. The Dwarf captain pushed those thoughts aside and hacked down to take a hand off at the wrist.

“What’s going on up there?” Ingrid demanded to no one in particular as sounds of fighting drifted back to the main body. She, and the others around her, drew their weapons and fell into defensive positions.

Bahr and Orlek pushed her behind them instinctively, despite her protests. There were times when leaders were expected to be at the front of an advance but other times when they were needed away from the fighting. Both men felt this was one of the latter. Bahr had a sense of dread without knowing why. The first crossbow bolt took one of the guards to his right. Pierced through the chest, he died without a sound. Bahr drew his sword, wishing for a shield. Neither his experience or his skills were enough to stop a guided missile.

“Cover! Prepare for attack!” Orlek bellowed. Instincts dropped him into battle mode. Long sword in one hand and hooked dagger in the other, Orlek crouched as more than a score of the enemy came into sight. He offered a toothy grin and attacked.

Bahr tried to understand what was happening before launching into anything foolish. The Blud Hamr was already exposed. Should Groge fall, all of their plans would be dashed against the rocks. The world would fail. Fortunately Boen had no such reservations. The Gaimosian launched into a furious counterattack the instant he spotted their attackers. Cold recognition blazed hotly in his eyes, telling Bahr what he needed to know. They were being assaulted by Skaning’s mercenaries. This knowledge led him to one inescapable conclusion: Skaning aimed to end his war tonight in an all-or-nothing gambit.

It was foolish at best. A maneuver that would likely result in the death of the entire mercenary company. Skaning either knew something the others didn’t or had grown mad with despair over successive failures. Bahr quickly, and rightly, guessed the rebels held the advantage and followed Boen. He’d just gotten the Gaimosian back and wasn’t about to risk losing him now. The Sea Wolf fell in a few steps behind Boen, intercepting a wild swing from a careless mercenary.

Bahr wheeled in a full circle, dangerously exposing his back. Fortunately his opponent hadn’t expected a second combatant and was off guard. Arm ringing from the shock of the blow, Bahr planted his feet and fended off a series of swings aimed at getting past his guard. The mercenary was skilled but not very experienced. Bahr all but disarmed him in three moves and swiped the tip of his sword across the enemy’s exposed throat. Blood sprayed. Sword dropped. The mercenary raised both hands to his throat, desperately trying to keep from bleeding to death. Bahr kicked him over backwards and hurried to find another target.

Back to back, he and Boen fought against several dark-clad attackers. Sparks showered off of angry swords. Bodies piled around them. The smell of blood and sweat tainted the air until nothing pure remained. All around the battle raged. Bahr guessed there must be hundreds of mercenaries all trying to kill as many rebels as possible. But why? Suicide made no tactical sense. Skaning would find no benefit in wasting so many lives. Bahr raised his sword to block and defect a forceful blow. His thoughts broken, the Sea Wolf was dragged back into the fight. Skaning’s plan would have to wait.

“You need to fall back, now!” Orlek shouted at Ingrid over the roar of approaching mercenaries. His demeanor had reverted entirely back to his days in the line infantry. A seasoned veteran, he’d hidden that fact from her until now.

She gave him a queer look at his sudden boldness and opened her mouth to protest. The hard look on his face was enough to quell any rising argument she might have. Ingrid reluctantly did as she was instructed and not a moment too soon. Dozens of mercenaries broke through the front lines and converged on her previous position. Orlek, having sensed their strategy, summoned those rebels nearest him and formed a solid defensive line. The mercenaries threw themselves upon the massed ranks of rebel fighters, all trying to win through and murder the rebel leader. Her blond hair made her stand out, even in the night.

The tactic was bold, but doomed to fail. Orlek snatched a man by his throat and drove his dagger deeply into the exposed belly. Shoving the dying mercenary backwards, Orlek left his dagger in the belly and brought his sword up. The enemy attacked with fury and passion he begrudgingly respected. Each had to know death was the only way out. That made them dangerous. Several rebels went down suddenly, exposing a small hole in the lines. Mercenaries poured through before Orlek rallied his forces to seal the gap.

He snatched the nearest rebel by the collar and roared, “Hold the line! No one else gets through or I’ll kill you myself!”

The stunned rebel nodded determinedly and turned his attention back to the battle. Orlek sprinted after the mercenaries, knowing who their target was. Heart pounding with dread, the rebel leader slashed diagonally downward and ripped open an unprotected back. The mercenary screamed in raw agony as his nerves were severed. Orlek ran past his falling form and shoved the next mercenary off balance.

“Ingrid!”