The Dreaming Hunt (18 page)

Units of infuriated Dupree regulars and irregulars barreled into the abrupt chaos of the greenskin line as it fell apart. It devolved into a gigantic melee of dozens of smaller skirmishes. It was almost as if that taunt had affected everyone within earshot of it.

Mage's Guild and Heart members spread across the field of battle, flowing from one pocket of fighting to the next, lending assistance as needed but focusing most of their efforts on the most dangerous combat.

The volume of blood was incredible. The only battles Will had seen before had taken place in wild places where the earth soaked up the blood quickly. But here, in a city with paved streets, it ran in rivers along the curbs and winding across the squares. It smelled of iron death and made the streets slick and treacherous.

Aurelius's battle mages and the Royal Order of the Sun knights teamed up to move methodically across the square, eliminating each pocket of fighting as they came to it. Will had gotten separated from his grandfather during the fight, and somehow he didn't think that had been an accident. The worst of the fighting centered upon Aurelius and several Heart knights.

Momentarily at a loss for what to do or where to go, Will scanned across the field of battle. The greenskins were retreating before the onslaught, standing and fighting until hard-pressed and then dropping back to the north. He frowned. Since when did Boki ever retreat, and since when did greenskins in general retreat in such a disciplined fashion? He frowned. Were the Haelan troops being led northward on purpose?

Why?

What lay to the south of their current position? Certainty bubbled up in his gut that some ruse was afoot. The Boki would not randomly attack Dupree in a suicide mission like this. They had a purpose in mind. But what?

Aurelius's thoughts must have been running in the same vein, for he materialized beside Will. “We can spare you here. Why don't you go have a look on the south side of the city? If these Boki do, indeed, distract us here, that is where they wish to divert our attention away from.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Be careful. I would take it much amiss if aught were to happen to you.”

He grinned at his grandfather and took off running.

Following the instinctive certainty in his belly that the Boki were perpetrating a trick, he raced down a southbound avenue, unfamiliar with this part of the city. The sounds of fighting diminished behind him. Apparently, all the invaders were in the northern part of the city. A few civilians darted about, but for the most part, the streets and alleys in this section of Dupree were deserted.

He burst out into the great open practice field for the Haelan legion. It reached all the way down to the shore of the Bay of Dupree and was bounded on the other three sides by the legion's barracks and headquarters. Why on Urth would the Boki and their minions go to such trouble to draw the battle away from
this
place?

He slowed to a walk, catching his breath as he traversed the dirt field, pounded hard by countless boots marching and drilling over the years. Great hulking buildings ringed the field, silent now, emptied of soldiers who'd gone forth to defend the city.

A slight movement caught his attention ahead, down by the shore. He dropped to his belly, cursing the lack of cover out here. Cautiously, he lifted his head. Two long, low dugout canoes were pulling up to the banks of the field. Were those the vessels called ryslu? Two Boki jumped out of each of the long dugouts with their pointed prows, narrow bodies, and blunt sterns. No wonder colonists called them thornboats. They were shaped like great spiny thorns.

He prayed the slight undulations in the field would hide him from view of the four Boki now racing along the field's margin. The orcs disappeared around the end of a great stone building with iron bars across all its windows. The armory.

He jumped up and ran lightly to where he'd last seen the raiders, pausing at the corner to peer around it. The four orcs stood in front of a door of some kind. A magic user threw a spell at the faintly glowing portal, and the light of the wizard's lock extinguished. Another orc raised a massive axe and hacked at the door. Sparks flew. Must have been an iron-bound portal. They were breaking into the Haelan legion's armory? What on Urth?

The big orc and his axe smashed through the door, and the Boki disappeared inside. Will could go for help, but by the time he found any troops, convinced them to come back here, and returned, these orcs would be long gone.

His natural curiosity took over. He had to know what they were up to. He sprinted down the alley and slipped into the building.

Although the space felt large, it was so full of shelves and racks filled with anything an army might need to fight a war that he could only see a little way in any direction. Cautiously, he moved forward.

There. A faint noise ahead and to the left. His old woodsman's skills came in handy as he slid from shadow to shadow. A circle of light shone ahead. He moved down a parallel row between shelves full of small barrels. He crouched down and peered between them.

He swore to himself. These orcs were big, brawny, and scarred enough to be experienced warriors. Worse, they all carried wooden weapons fashioned of the distinctively hued bloodthorn wood. Only the most accomplished Boki fighters carried pieces of Bloodroot's destroyed tree.

The Boki were sawing into the lid of a chest between the iron bands wrapping it. One of the Boki was just putting away a set of tools he recognized as trap picks. They were breaking into a trapped chest? What would the Haelan legion store inside such a thing? The chest in question was covered in dust. Whatever was inside was not something the legion used often.

As he looked on, the Boki broke through the lid. With a grunt of triumph, an orc reached inside and pulled out a fleece-wrapped object. It was about the length of Will's forearm and looked heavy. The orc reached inside again and fished around before announcing, “Jus' one. No mo'.”

The magic user unwrapped the skin to reveal a pie-shaped wedge of carved stone. It was black and glossy with gold veins running through it. So much magic poured off the thing that, to Will's trained eyes, it lit the space brighter than the torch. He thought he felt air moving across his skin, and yet no hair on his head stirred. Perhaps that was the energy of the magic pouring forth. The mage grunted in satisfaction. Will had no idea what that stone was, but it could
not
be good that the Boki were stealing it. He must find a way to stop them!

The mage rewrapped the stone and tucked it into a crude pack, announcing, “We go, Zar'Mok.”

The biggest orc nodded and gestured for the strike team to move out. Frantically, Will pointed his staff at Zar'Mok's ankles and fired a blast of magic. The Boki cried out and collapsed. Will stood upright and threw a bolt of force damage between the barrels at the nearest Boki. The orc howled.

He turned and took off running before the mage could get a bead on him. A bolt of magic sailed over his head, and he ducked around a corner. Heavy footsteps pounded behind him. Curse it, he'd forgotten how fast they were.

Something heavy—a club, maybe—slammed into his back. He staggered, righted himself, and kept running. But the footsteps were noticeably closer now. And then they split.
Dregs. Not good
.

A club swung around the corner of an intersection ahead, and he skidded to a halt, but not in time. It caught him a glancing blow on his shoulder, spinning him around. Like a trapped rat, he darted off in another random direction.

A Boki materialized in front of him. He swung his staff and caught the orc's club on its shaft, directing the blow up and away from his head. He'd never tried it before, but Will desperately channeled magic
down
the shaft of his staff toward its base, flinging it toward his attacker.

Thank the stars, it worked. The Boki stumbled back, snarling in rage and pain.

Will whirled, but three more Boki raced up behind him, and one got in a glancing blow with his club to the side of Will's head. He was dazed and trapped, frantically trying to regain his wits to defend himself at a minimum. One of them raised the torch high so the others could see to kill him.

Zar'Mok grunted in surprise and then poked at his own chest above his heart. “Sapling human. Vessel o' Bloodroot. No kill 'im. We go.”

Dazed, Will stared in disbelief as the burly orcs moved away from him, jogging toward the exit. Whatever that wedge of stone was, it had been worth bringing a thousand greenskins to Dupree on a suicide mission. He had to get it back.

Stumbling drunkenly, he headed after the fleeing Boki. He stepped outside, and the fresh air and bright light helped clear his head. He took off running after his prey, his steps steadying and picking up speed. He rounded the corner into the big practice field and spied the Boki partway across the open space. They were getting away!

He sprinted at full speed. It was going to be a close thing to reach them before they gained the safety of their dugout ryslu canoes. He gathered magic as he ran. When he had enough, he slowed enough to cast a disarming spell at the caster carrying the skin-wrapped stone. The orc fumbled and dropped the piece, and the others screeched to a halt as the mage scrambled to retrieve it.

Will caught sight of a third small boat approaching the shore and cursed under his breath. The last thing he needed was for this bunch to get reinforcements. As it was, he couldn't take on four seasoned Boki alone and realistically hope to live. He kept on running, though. He had no choice. He had to get that stone back or die trying.

*   *   *

Wariness flowed through Thanon as he and his men stepped through the portal onto the main pier in Dupree. It was clear at a glance that all was not well in the city. For one thing, no one came to meet him and his men. As in
no one
. Not a harbormaster or even a dockworker to inquire as to who they were. For another, he thought he heard the sounds of fighting somewhere in the direction of Governor's Square, or maybe slightly north of there. And third, as he looked down at the ground, the runoff water from a recent rain was tinged red.

Thanon ordered his men into the city to check on the governor's safety. They jogged off in formation while he appropriated a dinghy and rowed for the headquarters of the Haelan legion just to the west of the docks. He'd been ordered to report to Captain Krugar immediately when he arrived in the colony, and so he would. It was also his best bet for receiving a military status report.

He rowed his boat toward the gravel strand edging an expansive practice field. As he approached, he spied four large, battle-scarred orcs running away from a human warrior. He drew closer and saw the telltale forehead scars of Boki. That legendary tribe's fame had spread even to the shores of Koth. The human with the staff must be a mighty fighter to terrify them so.

His landing craft scraped bottom just as the Boki turned to face their attacker. He leaped ashore, drawing his crystal long sword as he did. He raced up the strand as the human youth fired off a blindingly fast series of disarming spells at his Boki foes and then wasted no time diving in with a staff to pound on the momentarily weaponless orcs. Nice tactic.

Roaring with rage, the Boki scooped up their weapons and charged the human.

Time to even the odds. Thanon attacked the exposed backs of the Boki, laying into them pell-mell. One of them turned to face him, blocking his sword blow with some sort of small, heavy-looking object covered in skin. Thanon's sword reverberated off what felt like stone. Swearing, he made a hard turn to slash his blade into the thigh of another Boki.

The orcs jumped back, attempting to flank both him and the human. Sensing the tactic almost before they did it, Thanon jumped forward to place himself beside the human. Something fast moving and metallic swung for his head, and he barely managed to duck beneath its deadly arc before it would have smashed into his face.

What in the name of the cursed was
that
? The human had taken a swing at him, but he hadn't telepathically sensed it coming. He was never taken by surprise in battle. His entire life had been spent honing his paxan mental talents into an uncanny battle sense that both felt and perceived the moves his foes were going to make a split second before they actually made them. Compliments of his mental edge, he always flowed seamlessly into and through a battle, working in perfect concert with his own men, and he was always in the right place at the right time to do the most damage to his foes.

The metal-clad staff snapped back the other way and clipped him painfully on the side of his knee. His leg collapsed, and only his superb fitness and reflexes kept him on his feet. Good grief, the kid was fast with a staff.

The biggest Boki closed on him with a howl of rage, a huge red-hued club raised high. The orc was going to feint a mighty downward swing with the club and use that dagger hidden in his off hand to gut him. That was more like it. His battle intuition was back in place where it belonged.

He sidestepped the club while blocking the wickedly fast dagger with his sword. All in one movement, he swung his shield off his back and into position on his left arm, backing away from a second Boki trying to flank him on the left. That cursed staff nearly nailed him again.

“I fight
with
you against the orcs,” he snapped, irritated.

“Sorry,” the young man grunted, grappling with a Boki warrior, holding off the orc's spear with the shaft of a nice-looking staff.

They had no more time for conversation as the four Boki took up positions on all sides of them, an attempt to confuse him and his impromptu battle brother-in-arms. The Boki magic user cast some sort of damaging spell at Thanon, but his armor held and absorbed the attack. He took a quick swipe at the mage with his sword, backing the fellow up enough that the orc mage would not be able to bring a weapon to bear against him, which left him one-on-one with the big Boki with the club and dagger for the moment.