The Collector of Remarkable Stories (23 page)

"I
can.
"

"That bloody hurt, you little wench!"

"I could bash every one of you and your army. I'm not afraid of anything."

Rohland raised an eyebrow, his right hand fingering the handle of a dagger tucked into his belt.

"I believe you," said Archie clearly irritated. " In fact I think with your stone throwing skills we'll be in very safe hands tonight."

"You will," said Margie defiantly.

"I suspect," said Rohland winking at Archie, "that the Malignants will be quite intimidated by your superior strength, courage and daring."

"The Giant taught me to look after myself. He's a butcher. He taught me how to use a knife." Marge flicked a look at Rohland.

"And what else did he teach you?"

"He taught me how to carve up a pig in less than three minutes."

Archie and Rohland erupted with laughter.

Before Margie could retaliate, a younger man came running from the same direction as Rohland and whispered something in Archie's ear. Archie nodded, his expression suddenly grim. "Thank you Viljar," he said to the young man, "your job is to look after Margie tonight. Do not leave her side and make sure she stays out of trouble."

Viljar was quite small, with fair hair and a wide, friendly smile. "Where's The Giant?" he asked.

Archie threw Viljar a look which slapped him into an abrupt silence.

"Whoops, there go the size nines again," he laughed.

Archie rejoined Rohland and together they marched purposefully ahead. Viljar motioned for Margie to join him and together they too set off at a pace.

"So, you and the tall guy are friends?"

"Yes."

"How long have you known him?"

Margie shrugged apathetically.

"Why are you so angry?"

"Archie lied to me. He told me he was bringing The Giant to Mons Morsus to be healed. He forgot to mention the bit about fighting in a war."

"That might have been his intention when he found you, but you're lucky he did. He doesn't usually travel that far. It's thanks to his bird that your friend was found. He wouldn't have survived otherwise. And neither would you."

"Survived for what? So he can be slaughtered in some war he knows nothing about?"

"You are jumping to conclusions. You and your friend aren't forced to do anything. You are free to go whenever you want. You can go now if you like, but I can't protect you. If you want to wait with me until your friend returns then you must do as you're told. It's unfortunate for
you
that the battle has come early and unfortunate for
us
that your friend isn't able to return the favour and carry our injured to safety."

"The Giant may be incapacitated, but I'm not!" replied Margie.

Viljar said nothing, but a small smile passed his lips.

A short time later, Margie, Archie, Viljar and Rohland arrived at a clearing beneath a rocky outcrop where a crowd of around twenty men were sharpening and fixing all manner of weapons. The air was alive with excited babble.

"Defenders be quiet!" shouted Archie. "The portal is vulnerable tonight. Our sentries have informed me that there are hundreds advancing. More than we have ever faced. This is a battle that will test our strength, courage and resilience. The Malignants will attempt to destroy us through sheer numbers. They are determined to gain access to the portal. But we cannot let them gain control of the doorway to the world of the living. We must fight to the end to protect it from their wicked ambitions. We have no choice. With all our power and might we will be victorious. Using arrows and swords, axes and pistols we will bring together centuries of warfare to stand up to our nemesis. It won't be easy; they are ruthless, brutal fighters. We know this. But I have confidence that we will succeed in defending what is not theirs to take. We must leave now and carry as many weapons with us as we possibly can. Our aim is to defend the portal, not to destroy our enemy. We are a small army; only fraction of the size of our enemy. But it's the smallest iron key that can lock the biggest door. It's the smallest iron key that renders it incapable of moving. Stand strong and stand together we will render the Malignants powerless."

Archie's speech was followed by a moment of silent hesitation and then a respectful cheer from the Defenders. Rohland slapped Archie's back and smiled kindly at him. The Defenders, who were already heavily protected with modified armour, began loading up with weapons and Archie walked among his troops, stopping to motivate them one by one until it became time to depart.

The night was dark. Quiet. And Margie (loaded down with a great sack of arsenal) felt oddly peaceful. Not at all like she was marching towards a battle field.

"What
are
the Malignants?" she asked.

"They're creatures from the other side of the mountain. Trouble makers and demons. They want control of the portal and send their armies to attack the Defenders at least twice a year."

"What is a portal, Viljar?"

"The door. The link between our world and the living. If the Malignants got control of the door it would be a disaster. They would torture the living by getting inside their heads and messing them up."

"What do you mean?"

"They make them think bad thoughts and do bad things. Murders, suicide; stuff like that."

"How did the door get there?"

The young man shrugged. "I've no idea. It's just always
been
there. There are plenty of them all over Limbuss. Big ones and small ones. The smaller ones appear when the living use things like Ouija boards. They're fools. If only they knew what was waiting for them on the other side ..."

Margie had no idea what a door might look like. In her mind's eye she had visualised a great twirling black hole but the reality was quite different. The path they followed meandered through dense bushes until they finally reached a little paved area, like a garden. In the centre of the garden was a small stone grotto which housed an old wooden door.

"Is that it?" asked Margie. "That's what all the fuss is about?"

Viljar nodded.

The door looked like any door that would lead from one garden to another and Margie was quite entranced. Was it possible that she could leave this world and return to her own if she passed through that little wooden door?

"I wouldn't try it if I were you," boomed a voice. It was Archie. Margie stepped aside as he strode towards them. "You wouldn't survive it."

"I wasn't going to ..."

Archie interjected. "It doesn't matter, we don't have time. Both of you take the weapons over there then head back to camp immediately. Send one of the Luggers back up to Phagge's cave to escort The Giant back to camp. Then keep your heads down. Do you understand?"

Margie and Viljar nodded and scooped up their sacks but before they could follow Archie's instructions someone cried out: "Look up!"

Everyone looked up and there, swooping down over them was a solitary Malignant. Margie was instantly startled by its sheer size; at least ten feet long. And the speed at which it came. It was a winged, bony, almost skeletal humanoid with huge round eyes and sharp pointed teeth. It carried a spear, which when combined with a long, thick, heavily armoured tail, made the deformed creature look quite foreboding.

Everyone ducked and watched it disappear off into the distance with a terrible scream.

"Come with me," shouted Viljar. He grabbed Margie's arm and dragged her away from the portal into some dense undergrowth nearby. Here they were concealed from view, but were by no means safe. "Stay close," he instructed breathlessly, "it's not safe for us to return to the camp." Margie didn't argue.

"We don't have any weapons!" she whispered. "How are we supposed to fight?"

"We're not going to fight. We're going to stay here and keep quiet. The only thing
you
need to worry about is their saliva. If it hits you it will burn through your skin."

Viljar rolled back his sleeve to reveal an old wound; a large patch of rippled, melted flesh from a previous battle with the Malignants. "It can eat its way through concrete and cut through metal." His hands were shaking as he rolled his sleeve back down and for the next few minutes the two of them sat silently waiting for the next attack.

The night seemed quiet. Too quiet for Margie's liking. And for the first time since they'd arrived at Mons Morsus she began to feel uneasy. The air was thick with something terrible. Was it a smell? A feeling? She wasn't sure. But it made her want to scream at the Defenders to run.

At the same moment, a great dark mass rose up from the horizon. The Defenders quickly rose to their feet, silently observing the growing cloud, unable to believe their eyes. They had expected a couple of hundred Malignants at the very most. But here, on the horizon, surging ever closer were tens of thousands of them. Not even a glimmer of light could pierce the swarm as it moved through the sky towards the portal.

Archie realised instantly that the battle was over before it had even begun. There was no way they could defend themselves against such a vast army of Malignants with such limited manpower and weaponry. They were ordinary men doing the best they could in extraordinary circumstances. They weren't soldiers. They were sailors, teachers and thieves, each of them carrying the physical or mental burden of their earthly sins. 

"To the rocks," screamed Archie. "To the rocks!"

Panic-stricken, the Defenders scattered in all directions, rushing to take cover where they could. Several made it to the portal where they would be safe from the Malignants' acid. Others simply dropped to the ground, hoping their body armour would offer some protection.

Archie found cover under a small mound of rocks and fought to load two grenadoes. He'd rehearsed the procedure with his armoured gloves a hundred times over, only now his hands were trembling and the precious explosive was spilling out everywhere. He cursed his useless hands as he wrestled to fill the two hollow balls of clay with the black powder. "If I destroy just one Malignant," he thought, "... just one!"

A short time later the grenadoes were loaded. There was little more Archie could do now other than to wait for the right moment in which to launch them. The Malignants were still quite high in the sky as the ground grew dark, and then, in one giant act of synchronicity they swooped down like a murmuration of starlings. Those on the ground that had not taken shelter were hit with a catastrophic shock wave that either pinned them to the ground barely able to breathe, or blasted them sideways in a storm of dust and debris. And then came the noise. The screams of tens of thousands of Malignants. A battle cry sound so loud and debilitating that it virtually paralyzed the Defenders.

A
A
s the men writhed in agony, their hands clawing desperately at their ears, a handful of Malignants lunged down thrashing their tails like medieval flails. The Defenders who were caught out in the open stood little chance of protecting themselves against the ferocious onslaught and Margie, incapacitated by the noise, could do little to help from her hiding place.

For several minutes the Malignants pummelled the Defenders who writhed around on the floor like new born kittens. Blow followed blow as the flying beasts swooped and swung their deadly tails. The Defenders jerked this way and that in a futile effort to survive the assault.

Through the noise, Archie struggled to focus. It was hard. The screams ripped into his brain and shredded his thoughts. Oh, the noise. His head. The pain.

Then, through the fog, Archie saw one of the creatures land close to the portal. Like all the other Defenders, those guarding the door were also debilitated; unable to do anything more than try to squeeze the noise out of their tortured heads. The Malignant bent down and sniffed one of the men before spitting in his face. Already in a deep state of shock, the Defender's eyes remained glazed and unchanged, seemingly oblivious to the acid that was burning a hole in his cheek.

Without hesitation, Archie dived out from under his rock shelter. Instantly, the Malignants homed in on him like a swarm of angry wasps.

"Watch out!" screamed Margie, her voice drowned-out amid the cacophony of screeches.

Archie dived sideways as one of the Malignants swiped its tail at his head. He felt the air brush his cheek as it passed. He had only a second of two before it came back, but that's all he needed. Wasting no time, he sprinted towards the portal.

From the very beginning of the attack, a shower of acid had rained down on the Defenders. Drop after burning drop scorched their flesh as they tried to protect themselves. It was a blessing that as Archie reached the portal, the searing rain stopped. The Malignants were as vulnerable to the acid as anyone and, of course, there was no way the Malignants wanted to injure one of their own. Certainly not one that was so close to the portal.

The Malignant slowly turned to face Archie and emitted an ugly angry scream.

Archie's head felt like it was about to explode but he stood his ground, his mechanical hands primed and ready to attack. The Malignant rocked his long neck from side to side like a Cobra, intermittently spitting acid in Archie's direction.