Champions of the Gods (28 page)

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Authors: Michael James Ploof

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BOOK: Champions of the Gods
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Chapter 47
A Dark Storm Brewing

 

 

Night fell upon Brinn, and the glow coming from the north continued to grow. The churning storm clouds coming from Belldon Island were ever widening, stretching out over the entire lake by midnight. Green lightning crackled throughout the storm, touching down on the lake and surrounding land, and starting more than one fire in the city of Brinn.

Soldiers stood at their posts pensively, many of them beginning to second-guess their mettle.

Raene, Krentz, Dirk and Abram hurried up to Brinn’s northernmost tower and looked out over the lake. Krentz studied the churning clouds, thinking that she had seen something in a flash of lightning, something quite unsettling.

“What is that?” she asked.

“A hurricane, by the looks of it,” said Abram.

“No,” said Dirk. “Zander cannot control the weather. That is not the nature of his power.”

Lightning flashed directly overhead, and Krentz gasped at what she saw—eyes.

“Something is flying circles around the lake. Something is pushing the clouds,” she said in a shaking voice.

Dirk studied the hurricane, focusing on the darker spots. His eyes widened.

Raene had been watching him and pulled on his sleeve. “Well then, out with it. What the hells be moving that storm?”

“Souls,” he said low. “Souls are churning that storm.”

Something suddenly fell out of the sky and hit the battlements with a wet thud. Raene jumped back, brandishing her mace. An undead human stood on shaky legs and turned his green glowing eyes on the group.

Dirk stabbed it through the chest before Raene could begin to react.

Another thud came from the courtyard, followed by many more.

Raene watched horrified as undead humans, elves, and draggard fell from the churning storm by the dozens.

“By Ky’Dren’s bloody axe! It be raining undead!”

They all stood there for a shocked moment, watching as the undead hit the ground in a chorus of crunching bones. The fiends glowed with unholy healing light and rose once again.

“Defend the city!” Dirk finally cried.

He leapt over the wall and charged into the center of the city as the warning bells tolled. The others followed close behind. Krentz let off a steady barrage of arrows at the closest ghoul, while Chief covered the group against attacks from above. More than once he shot over their heads and solidified, riding an undead beast to the ground.

“Teera!” said Abram, and sprang across the courtyard and to the west.

The others ran into the fortress at the center of town, and Dirk joined them, moving through the wall. He took form before General Walker, who was leaning over a map of Brinn. The man looked ashen but determined.

“You must order a retreat,” Dirk told him.

Walker jumped, and his advisers fell back, startled white by the appearance of Dirk.

“Do not do that, man!” Walker yelled.

“Brinn will be destroyed by morning,” said Dirk.

“I will not abandon Brinn. We are the first defense against this…hell storm.”

Krentz rushed over to the men, having left the others to defend the fortress. “Why are we still talking?” she asked them. “The heart of the storm draws near. The city will be destroyed. You must retreat.”

“You two rogues do not command the army of Whillhelm Warcrown. Now if you would please—”

“Then let us take Whill’s aunt and cousins away to safety. He would want it so,” said Krentz.

General Walker glanced from Krentz to Dirk, considering it. “Agreed. You will bring Teera and her daughters south to Devandes.”

“Wait a minute,” said Dirk. “We and our weapons are Brinn’s best defense against this onslaught.”

“You said it yourself. Brinn is doomed,” said Krentz. “This city is full of soldiers who have sworn their lives to this cause. But those women have not. They have seen enough. If there is one thing we can do to redeem ourselves, it is to get them out of here.”

Dirk blinked at her candor and stared for a moment. Krentz ignored him.

“We shall take them safely away. Good luck to you, General,” she said and turned on her heel.

Dirk caught up with her easily. “What the hells was that about?” he asked.

“You know of what I spoke.”

“Yes,” he said with an indignant laugh. “And your tongue has become loose of late.”

“I’m tired of secrets. I’m tired of lies.”

He grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop at the threshold. Just beyond the doorway, Raene and Chief were battling the undead, who now numbered in the hundreds.

“You have to stop this. Your words shall see you hanged before this is through,” said Dirk.

She pulled her arm away angrily. “Come, let’s get the women out of here.”

Dirk shook his head and cursed under his breath when Krentz dashed down the stone steps and joined the fray, riddling the surrounding monsters with glowing arrows.

Raene followed close behind, mentally blasting any undead monster who got too close. Dirk and Chief moved with blinding speed, cutting a path through the hordes and covering the rear.

They reached the infirmary doors, and Dirk flew through the wall. He pushed back the startled guard and unlocked the big iron door. Krentz and Raene hurried inside, and Dirk closed the door to many clawing arms, severing one when he slammed it shut. The glowing hand began scurrying across the floor, and Raene frantically smashed it to pulp with her mace.

Abram came streaking into the foyer and solidified before them. “You must summon the dragon. Get them out of here,” he said.

“Agreed,” said Dirk. He turned to Krentz and gave her a nod.

“Back to the spirit realm, Dirk Blackthorn,” she said, holding out the figurine.

Krentz gave him time to summon the dragon and hurried to the back to gather up the three women. Raene hurried along after her.

“Hurry. You are coming with us,” Krentz told Teera.

The old healer and her youngest daughter were sitting beside the eldest, who still had not spoken or indicated that she was lucid, though her eyes remained wide opened.

“Where is my brother?” Teera asked, rising.

“He will be back shortly, and you must be ready,” said Krentz.

A few minutes later she summoned the men back. Abram and Fyrfrost came with Dirk, though the dragon did not take form there in the cramped space.

Abram lifted Elzabeth in his arms as Dirk, Chief, and the speck of light that was Fyrfrost flew back through the door to clear the way. Raene and Krentz, along with Abram, helped the women to the door.

“Ready?” Abram asked them all.

The women nodded.

He burst through the door into a world of chaos. Fyrfrost had taken his physical form and was dousing the skies with flame. Undead still rained from the violent storm churning overhead, and though the Uthen-Arden soldiers fought valiantly, they were helpless against the attackers. Already the recently dead were rising from where they had fallen.

Krentz unleashed her arrows as her dragon bow sang. “Hurry!” she yelled over her shoulder.

Abram and Dirk needed no more prompting. They hurriedly helped the women up onto the dragon.

Raene bashed the undead with her shield and crushed souls with her glowing mace. “Go on without me. Me place be here with me kin!” she yelled when Krentz motioned for her to get on too.

“It’s suicide!” Krentz protested.

“I’ll keep her safe,” said Dirk, suddenly beside her.

Krentz searched his eyes, speechless.

“We need to leave, NOW!” Abram yelled from the back of the dragon.

“You cannot remain here. I hold the trinket,” said Krentz.

“It will only pull me back to it. Go. You will know when I have returned to the trinket. Go!” he said, kissing her hard.

Krentz watched him streak away from her and stab a draggard through the chest before vanishing once more and severing the head of a human undead soldier charging Raene.

“Lady Krentz!” Abram yelled again. He was flying around the dragon, keeping the growing undead horde at bay where Fyrfrost’s sweeping tail could not.

Krentz shook herself out of it and climbed up onto the dragon. Fyrfrost leapt into the sky and bore them away on shimmering wings. All the while, Abram and Chief streaked through the air, intercepting the undead borne by the souls churning the clouds. Lightning licked at them, barely missing as Fyrfrost fought against the incredible pull of the hurricane of howling souls.

They broke away slowly, but finally got out from under the encroaching storm and sailed away to the south.

Krentz stared behind them with the terrible feeling that she would never see Dirk again.

Chapter 48
The Eye of the Storm

 

 

Dirk and Raene fought their way to the city gates to meet the army of dwarves who had poured into the city to help defend. Kelgar led the group, who marched beneath dozens of spinning halberds controlled by the blessed ones. Those undead whom the storm spit out above them were soon chopped to pieces by the spinning blades, which rained down blood and green glowing gore.

Kelgar fought his way through to his sister and greeted her with a big one-armed hug. “Oy! It be some downright dreadful weather they got here in Brinn. Aye?” he said, laughing as he fought.

Raene laughed and pointed at the halberd spinning high above his head. “That your idea?”

“Aye, godsdamned brilliant, ain’t it?”

“It is brilliant, good king,” said Dirk. “And might come in quite handy.”

“If them damned humans would get out o’ the way, we could clear the city. Me boys can’t keep this up forever.”

“Leave me to it!” said Dirk over the tumult.

He flew off to the fortress and found General Walker and Captain Marshall fighting back to back against an encroaching horde at the foot of the wide stairs.

Dirk cut down the monsters before them, clearing a way back to the door.

“General,” said Dirk. “You must order everyone inside. The dwarves have a plan.”

“Everyone who isn’t inside is already dead. We tried to rally the men to us, but they could not get through.”

Dirk nodded gravely, thinking as much, though he hadn’t wanted to be the one to say it.

“Order them all to remain inside then. Gather your strength. The dwarves will do what they can to clear the city. Already the number of beasts falling from the sky has lessened. Soon this will be a ground battle.”

“Did you get the women away safely?” Captain Marshall asked. His armor was covered in green blood, and his own red blood mixed with it. Still, none of the fire had left his fierce eyes.

“They are safe,” Dirk assured them.

He flew back out to Kelgar and relayed the general’s instructions. At Kelgar’s command, the blessed turned the halberds from the sky and sent them buzzing through the city streets.

Dirk was tired. He could feel the trinket getting farther away from him with every passing moment. It was his anchor to the physical plane, and without its power, he would soon fade to the spirit realm. Dirk needed to move south before he faded. He had brought both Abram and Fyrfrost with him through the trinket, and when he went, so too would they, which would leave Krentz in midair without a dragon.

The eye of the storm was fast approaching. At its center, a mile over the lake, a brilliant green light shone like a sun. Dirk could not see through the brightness, but somehow he knew it to be Zander.

He looked to the battling dwarves, who howled and cheered and sang to the glory of their gods.

They’re all going to die.

Raene had taken up a halberd and now marched through the streets with her brother, chopping down every undead that stood before her. She looked tired, but Dirk knew that she wouldn’t quit until she dropped dead.

“I must go now,” said Dirk.

Raene turned to him, startled. He had flown through the ranks and materialized right beside her. He wanted her to come with him, though he knew that she would never abandon her kin, no matter the circumstances.

“Aye, I be seein’ ye soon then,” she said. Her brow was furled in concentration and her hands waved back and forth as she guided the spinning blades.

The city streets looked like a massacre.

Dirk watched her, trying to gauge whether or not she understood the gravity of her situation. At length he sighed and offered her the dwarven solute. “I will see you soon, Raene of Ky’Dren.”

With that he took his leave, shifting into a wisp and flying through the southern city gates.

Overhead, the eye of the storm settled directly above Brinn.

 

Raene released her halberd and stood panting, surveying the city streets. She saw no undead left standing. She and the other blessed dwarves had pulverized the hordes with their spinning halberds. The city gate had been secured for the time being, though thousands of the undead had begun to lumber toward it.

She glanced up and saw Zander still hovering overhead, arms outstretched and hands bursting with power.

“What is he waiting for?” Raene asked Kelgar.

Her brother caught his spinning halberd and looked up at the necromancer hovering a mile above the city.

“Must be thinkin’ o’ retreatin’.”

Raene shook her head, knowing that Kelgar was drunk. He had always been a fearless dwarf, but under the effects of alcohol, he became a maniac.

“We should strike before he does. I don’t know what he be conjurin’ up there, but it can’t be anything good.”

“Aye. What ye got in mind?”

Raene grinned wide. “Ye got any dragon’s breath bombs left?”

Kelgar shared her devilish grin and reached into the folds of the long fur coat he wore over his armor. “I got one stick on me,” he said, holding it up to her. “But the wick be much too short to be makin’ it up that far.” He went to rummaging through his pockets and found a coiled up length of wick. Kelgar gauged the distance to Zander as best he could and cut the wick five feet long.

There was a brilliant flash of light and a ground shaking boom of thunder. Raene looked up. Zander was gathering the churning souls to him.

“Hurry,” she said as Kelgar reworked the bomb and wick.

“Almost got it.”

Zander could no longer be seen beyond the growing orb of power surrounding him.

“There!” Kelgar quickly lit the end of the wick and threw the bomb into the air with all his might. He then shot his hands up over his head and pushed the bomb up through the air.

Raene watched nervously as the bomb rose so high that it disappeared from sight. The orb surrounding Zander pulsed and crackled. A screaming chorus of tortured souls rose in pitch.

“Almost there,” said Kelgar. His face was twisted in concentration, and his outstretched hands shook with effort.

The explosion suddenly tore through the sky high above the city, and the surrounding dwarves gave a resounding cheer.

Raene looked on hopefully as the flame and smoke slowly subsided.

The churning wind swallowed up the black smoke to reveal Zander, still hovering high above. His booming voice shook the ground. Outside the walls of the city, the undead had stopped their attack.

Kelgar growled and pumped his fist at the sky. “Come on, ye bloody coward!” he screamed at the heavens.

As if in answer, Zander unleashed a thick beam of pulsing green light that ripped through the air and hit the center of the city. Raene instinctively dove for cover as the spell exploded, sending out glowing shockwaves that tore through the city and everyone in it.

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