Sunset of Lantonne (86 page)

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Authors: Jim Galford

Tags: #Fantasy, #Fiction, #Furry

BOOK: Sunset of Lantonne
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“How long do we have?” Raeln asked after watching the soldiers flip the wagons onto their sides, completely blocking all but a six-foot wide area in the middle of the gate. “I could try to find more capable people…”

“You learned nothing I taught you?” the old man asked, chuckling. “If you were sending an army to attack a city with more than one gate, would you commit your whole force to just one?”

“No, I’d split my force. Never over-commit to one front, you always told me.”

“Altis wouldn’t have fallen to them if they were stupid, Raeln. It’s better-defended than this city ever was. What you see out there is meant to make us watch it. I’ll bet you your tail they have another group at least as big circling around south. When it arrives, they’ll charge. Could be any minute or it could be a week.”

“Have you sent scouts?”

“What scouts? The Turessian ass the king seems to trust so much sent them off into the mountains with all the rest of my troops, just in time for the undead to arrive here. If I had half a mind, I’d think it was planned.”

Raeln winced, knowing the real reason the soldiers were sent, and yipped to get Greth’s attention.

“We’ll scout as soon as the sun sets,” Raeln told Phillith as Greth came running back over. “Gather any extra people you can before we come back. More importantly, get these civilians out of the streets. Ignoring the coming attack isn’t going to make it go away.”

“Make sure you come back.”

Before Greth and Raeln could set off, Phillith began shouting at the nearest citizens that the undead were attacking. It set off an immediate panic, which spread through the street, sending every person in sight running toward the heart of the inner city, trying to get as far as they could from the walls, while Phillith chucked morbidly.

“Nice distraction,” Greth muttered, shaking his head. He gave Phillith a quick glance, then sheathed his sword and said to Raeln, “Lead on, boss.”

*

A few hours later, Raeln slowed his pace as they approached the outskirts of the remains of the old quarry town. They had circled around to come in through the rougher terrain on the east side, hoping they could avoid being seen. With the sun low in the west, it had seemed the safest route, allowing them to get much closer to the enemy camp without being seen.

They crept through collapsed buildings and made their way along the lip of the quarry, trying to keep at least twenty feet from the edge. From what Raeln could see in the dimming light, the once-firm stone edge had crumbled and broken badly during the explosion at the base of the quarry months earlier. Raeln had no desire to risk stones cracking under their feet and let the undead—no more than a hundred feet away—know where they were…or have it completely break away and drop one of them to the bottom of the partially collapsed pit below.

Even more important was avoiding whatever floated in the middle of the old quarry. He had seen the black cloud when he and Greth had approached Lantonne. He had hoped to ask someone about it while in town. In the intervening day, he had completely forgotten about it, but now the inky stain against the nearly black sky stood out to him like some kind of hole. Near it, he could see shapes moving slightly, but the darkness of the cloud was too intense for him to make out anything near it. Somehow, it reminded him of a horde of insects wriggling atop a corpse, but he could not say why.

Raeln motioned to Greth to stop as he saw a hint of humanoid shapes in the shadows ahead of them. Hunkering down, he waited, keeping himself as still as he could, watching the uneven and tilted remains of the buildings for anything man-shaped. When hunting normal prey, he would have searched for slight movements, the subtle changes in posture any animal or other creature would have made. He was looking for undead though, which he doubted had any reason to breathe or otherwise move until they saw something to attack—him, in this case.

Off to his right, Greth made a faint click with his tongue to get Raeln to look over. He raised his hand slowly, holding up four fingers. He then pointed toward a collapsed building and rolled his eyes back, letting his tongue loll out one side of his mouth. Then, lowering his hand and closing his mouth, Greth shrugged.

Four more undead, Raeln reasoned, smiling at Greth’s methods.

Keeping himself flat to the ground, Raeln stared at the building, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the rapidly fading light. It took him a minute or more, but he soon could make out four man-sized figures standing flat against the one remaining wall. None of them moved in the slightest, and they all appeared to be facing slightly different directions. There were the undead patrols, waiting for anyone stupid enough to come out to them. With the other undead he could see beyond them, nearly any approach to the main group would be difficult.

Raeln watched the undead for a little while, trying to spot where they might not be able to see. The only way he could find to get past them required diverting closer to the quarry edge where they would be hidden by the debris from buildings fallen there. It was not Raeln’s preferred path, as it got them onto unstable ground and closer to the black cloud.

Giving Greth a nod to acknowledge he understood what was out there, Raeln pointed out the path he had seen. Greth nodded his own agreement and began crawling toward the edge of the quarry, barely making a sound as he walked on all fours, careful to only come down on the pads of his hands and feet to soften the sound of each step.

Raeln followed a few feet behind Greth, mimicking his actions, though he knew he was far from practiced at moving that way. Greth had showed him how to sneak through the woods to hunt deer, but a handful of times crawling through the woods did not prepare him for walking on broken stone and rubble, and certainly did not give him the years of practice Greth possessed from living in the wilderness.

They picked their way across the wreckage-strewn ground until Greth reached the lip of the quarry. There, he slowed even further, testing each hand or foot’s landing before putting weight on it, while Raeln held back.

Greth continued until he reached a spot about thirty feet farther up the quarry edge, and then turned back in toward the old town, away from the quarry itself. There, he stopped and looked back, waiting for Raeln behind a fallen home that shielded him from the view of any undead scouts.

Padding over to the beginning of the split and broken stones, Raeln reviewed the route he would take, making sure he had not missed a step. He knew every spot Greth had stepped, and if he made no mistakes, he could catch up quickly.

The first few steps were easy, the shattered stones under his hands crackling faintly but not loudly enough that anything out in the dark reacted. He continued, wincing as the sharp stones cut into his hands and feet. A sudden rustle off to his right made him look up while lowering himself flat to the ground.

Out in the dark open space of the quarry, something was definitely moving. Raeln could not see anything clearly, but he swore he saw wings. The harder he stared, the more the black cloud seemed to be the only thing out there.

A dark strand of the cloud abruptly whipped out and swung over Raeln’s head, where he had been a second before. In its passing, he felt the warmth leave the air. Three more times it lashed about, trying to find him, and then retreated into the cloud.

Raeln gave himself a second to be sure the mysterious strand of darkness was done trying to grab at him before he tried to move. Without thinking, he put all of his weight on his hands as he got up, then closed his eyes in dismay as he heard crackling. The ground under Raeln’s right hand shifted suddenly, the stones breaking away under his sustained weight. He rolled away from the crumbling edge and scrambled across the rubble and broken stones, trying to get back to cover before anything came looking for him.

Raeln came to a stop beside Greth, panting as he tried to listen for anything out in the dark that might have heard him slip. At first, he heard nothing, but then realized a soft shuffling sound on the far side of the collapsed building was growing louder. Something was coming.

The faint sliding sound of Greth drawing his sword let Raeln know for sure he had heard the same thing. Raeln reached for his own weapon but stopped moving when he saw movement off in the quarry again. Whatever that cloud was, it was malicious, as though it were watching for prey.

A foot came down on the rubble near Raeln’s head, bringing the strong stench of decay. He tried to get away, to get something between himself and it, but before he could, decayed and broken fingers clamped down on his neck, slamming him to the ground. A second figure came over the rubble and grabbed his leg, and sharp boney fingers tore into his skin through his pants.

Raeln struggled frantically, trying to get a grip on his attackers. As he rolled over, he managed to kick off the creature grabbing his leg, but the rotted face of the zombie that had clawed at the back of his neck came racing toward his face, trying to bite at him. He punched at it, knocking the zombie away, but it kept coming, unable to feel any of the damage he dealt it.

Hooking his leg up and around the creature, Raeln yanked it away from his face, then rolled onto his feet. He grabbed the undead before it could recover and threw it, sending it tumbling over the edge of the quarry. Unlike a living foe, the zombie did not scream as it fell.

Tendrils lashed out from the dark cloud, slicing through the zombie before it had fallen far enough that Raeln could no longer see it. The dark smoke seemed to pass right through the zombie, never changing its movement like a solid object would, but in its passing, the corpse flew in several directions, cut apart.

Nearby, Greth was faring far worse than Raeln. He had two more zombies on him and was struggling to keep them both at bay with his bare hands, his sword lodged in the chest of one of the creatures.

The third zombie that had been attacking Raeln crawled toward him, trying to bite his leg rather than stand up.

Raeln went straight for the two zombies attacking Greth, delivering a solid punch to the spine of the first, knocking it off-balance. He turned and kicked the second in the knee, breaking bone as the creature fell. By then, the first had recovered, but Raeln wrapped his arm around its waist, spun, and hurled it off the cliff.

This time, as the body fell over the edge, more than the cloud moved. Dark shapes rushed at it, separating from the cloud itself. From what little Raeln could make out, bat-like wings flapped to hold two or more shadowed creatures aloft as they tore the zombie apart, flinging bones and pieces of flesh in all directions.

“Time to go,” Greth said quietly, yanking his sword from a zombie struggling to stand. “This way…we can get a look at their numbers as we run.”

Raeln followed as Greth took off toward the northwest, weaving through the buildings toward the vast open plains beyond, where the army had been spotted earlier in the day. They took a sharp turn near the edge of the ruined town, Greth leading the way right up a wall that had fallen at an angle. They climbed up to get well above the other wreckage and see farther out into the plains.

Out among the low hills and high grass, Raeln’s excellent night vision was only barely required to see the assembled force. Several thousand undead stood in a jumbled mass, all facing toward Lantonne—exactly what they had expected to find.

What they had not expected were the other similar forces Raeln could make out in the distance, illuminated by the pale white light of the rising moon. Dozens of groups at least as large as the one near the quarry marched across the plains, cutting across the western side of Lantonne and circling around to close in on the city.

Greth touched Raeln’s arm, then pointed toward the east.

Turning, Raeln saw the same thing that had been visible in the west. Many thousands of undead marching at an angle around Lantonne. The city was already surrounded, even if the citizens did not know it yet. In less than a day, the whole region would be overrun with the armies of the Turessians.

“We can’t do anything else out here,” Greth told him, nodding toward the city. “Let’s go back. Those gates need to close. If we’re very lucky, we can stall until our army comes home.”

A shriek of something coming their way from the nearest group of undead was all the prodding needed. They ran hard straight toward Lantonne, no longer the least bit concerned with being seen. The undead were coming, regardless of whether they had been found out by two wildlings.

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