Arm Of Galemar (Book 2) (92 page)

His second blow forced his beast to one side.  An eye
blink later Marik felt the wind from a passing quarrel against his cheek. 
Churt’s shot took one white robe in the stomach.  At the same instant the
shrieking man clutched at his midriff, four monsters howled in apparent agony,
including Chiksan’s.

The beast Chiksan fought ceased moving while it
clutched its head, which enabled Edwin to take out the next robed figure.  Only
a moment later, the third white-robe fell to a First Unit archer.

Beasts in the space between the mercenaries and the
soldiers screamed in pain.  Marik laughed a harsh bark, knowing they
could
turn the tide after all.

The tide did turn then, though not in the direction
the Kings had expected.  Eleven beasts were out of control.  Three fought among
themselves.  When the rest stopped their pained howling, they started
slaughtering men with a berserk abandon far beyond their previous mayhem.  They
rampaged in a killing fury that quickly overwhelmed the mercenaries.

“Back!  Back!  Fall back!” Kineta shouted over the
nightmarish roars.

First and Fourth Units both scrambled to obey.  They
had pushed away from the other two units during their southward charge.  Before
they could close ranks, seven horned whirlwinds struck hard into the men.

The monsters struck in a lance thrust, breaking
through the line between the two squad halves.  First and Fourth units were cut
off.

New howls erupted to mark another white-robe’s death. 
Marik frantically questioned if that were such a good idea this time, or if it
would only add fuel to the bonfire.  The rampaging beasts were oblivious to the
wounds they suffered unless the injuries were severe, and only Sloan and Churt
scored
any
deep wounds.  Every beast Marik faced was too fast and
furious for him to handle.  He needed practice to use Sloan’s trick
effectively.  That or time to do it right.

And time was not an advantage the maddened monsters
were granting them.

Kineta could be heard shouting to retreat, to move anywhere
but where they were.  Sloan issued no counter-commands, and no Fourth Unit
member felt affronted at Kineta giving them orders.  Her words matched the
thoughts in every man’s head.  They were glad to hear them come as an order.

The beasts had pushed through between them and
Fraser’s half-squad.  They were turning back to flank from the east.  West was
blocked by the soldiers still battling other monsters, so south became the only
avenue open to escape.

Sloan continued to battle while the Fourth Unit ran
through the tents.  Kineta caught him by the arm and tugged as the First’s
fighters followed.  Two monsters made to pursue until they were distracted by
soldiers who were fleeing their formation.

Two-hundred yards south of the outpost they halted to
regroup.  Kineta faced to Sloan.  “We need to circle around and rejoin Fraser! 
He’s still locked tight!”

The Fourth Unit sergeant nodded.  “The fight is far
from over.”  He sounded flat, as always.

Kineta grimaced, whether at returning to the
horrendous battle or at Sloan’s greater desire for combat rather than command
was unclear.  “We’ll flank to clear the demons.  Our forces will be fighting to
get clear of that purgatory soon, I reckon.  Back east, so we can join ranks
when we meet, or help extract them.”

“Shit!” a man shouted.  “Over there!”

He pointed west.  Everyone saw their prospects
worsen.  Coming around the outpost’s western end marched a force full of
strange figures.  They wore bizarre armor that struck Marik as vaguely
badger-like.  An odd shape to their helms and their black armor instantly
recalled the wise old animal from his childhood tales.

They were obviously enemy forces.  Shouted orders in
an unknown language reached Marik’s ears.  The strange soldiers started to
advance with purpose.

“I don’t think they’re going to stop,” he heard a
voice moan in a weary tone.

“Bloody sin!” Kineta swore.  Sloan raised his sword. 
“East then!  Now!”

But several beasts burst free of the chaotic battle to
their northeast.  One carried a white-robe that Marik could see.  These
monsters were being directed by an intelligent mind.  They emerged until eleven
beasts were angling south to intercept them.  North and east had just been
eliminated from their options.

“Damn it, damn it, damn it,” Kineta swore venomously
in a continual litany.  “South, damn it!  South before we’re ground into dog
meat!  Damn it!”

South it is, then,
Marik mused.  The men ran as fast as their equipment allowed. 
And
the further we get from our forces, the less likely we will be to find any
reinforcement.  How are we going to pull our fat from the fire this time?

*        *        *        *        *

Marik believed nothing could terrify him as these
monstrous beasts did.  Being pinned behind a tree in a forest clearing for half
a day by a dozen hostile archers no longer struck him as remotely frightening.

The unfamiliar men chasing from the northwest could
have been dealt with on a rational level.  They were bad enough, but the
charging beasts with slathering fangs would haunt all their dreams until the
day they died.

Were it not for Marik, both units would have died
within a half-mile.  The beasts loped in a distance-eating pace that would have
quickly closed the gap between their groups.  Marik needed neither sergeant to
point that out, nor did he need a scholar to explain what the result would be
when they caught up.  There were only thirty men including the sergeants. 
Eleven demon-creatures would destroy them unless the best fighters in their
ranks somehow killed the beasts, though if they managed such an incredible feat
surely a full unit in fighters would be dead by then.

Before the Kings could pull that off, the
black-armored warriors would descend.  They could not afford to fight.  All
they could do was evade while hoping to circle back to their shieldmates in the
north.

What few archers they had would be insufficient. 
Marik sheathed his blade while they ran and opened his channels to the etheric
plane.  The beasts closed with uncanny speed.  They had already covered half
the distance when he unleashed his first etheric orb.

The sphere flew fast as he could send it, five times
or greater than any crossbow quarrel.  It struck the leading beast on its
shoulder.  A fantastic howl followed.  Faint smoke curled away from its
scorched fur and it spun with one hand clutching the burn.

It raged for a long moment, Marik cursing colorfully
while the mercenaries added to the distance.  Since their hides were thick
enough to repel most sword strokes he had prayed the mage attack would kill
them as easily as it could a man.  Wishful thinking.  His orbs would not
destroy them before they closed.

But his attack did stop their outright charge.  The
beasts halted and he could see the white-robes lean together in conference.  To
the northwest, the black soldiers also paused when they witnessed his magical
strike.

Kineta ordered the men to cut east as much as possible
during the run on the prayer they could eventually circle back.  Before they
could, the beasts moved again.  They limited their speed from their previous
loping, apparently intending to pace the mercenaries to see what they would
do.  With them matching their movements, the two units would never be able to
flank them.

They kept their distance without easing the pressure. 
Kineta slowed the men to a walk.  The beasts responded by slowly closing while
crowding the route eastward.  If the men cut east, they would come within forty
yards of the monsters.  None cared to risk it.

Marik thought they might be able to reverse course and
slice westward if the beasts kept their distance.  That thought only lasted two
or three minutes.  The black soldiers had paused to consider the escapees who
obviously protected a mage within their ranks, but only until new armored
forces began streaming around the outpost.

Easily five times their number in unknown fighters
stood to their northwest with additional men joining by the moment.  The beasts
were already beyond their ability to handle without adding an entire division
in enemy soldiers dogging their heels!  Whoever these invaders were, they had
come in force.

The arrivals continued to swell until the Kings ran
too far to see them.  Before they vanished from sight, they noticed several
groups, larger than a full unit each, deploying from the main body.  Most
traveled due south while others aimed to join the beast force hounding their
retreat.  Whenever the Kings angled off the straight southern course, an
unfriendly party would be there to meet them.

With only minimum sleep to recover from the first
catastrophe in the Stoneseam’s pass, the hard pace would do them in before
long.  Kineta made no secret of that to Marik, stating flat-out as they pushed
their bodies that if Marik could not buy them an opening, they would be overrun
eventually.

It displeased him that the First’s sergeant was forming
a plan around his abilities as a mage, yet he reluctantly admitted their
options were slimmer than the frozen grass blades crunching beneath their
boots.  If the three-sided cage continued to drive them then they would be run
to exhaustion; a wounded deer finally collapsing as the hunter kept pace with
it.  Fortunately the snow was only a few inches thick so they could press on
without being forced to a crawl.

The black soldiers were too distant to effectively
attack.  Marik volleyed five consecutive orbs into the beasts when the
creatures started to close the distance.  With no attack since the first, the
white-robes must have begun to wonder.

He aimed for their faces, hoping they would be
vulnerable there.  None hit except for one that burned away after striking a
curved horn.  A spark shower, as of a hundred smiths all sharpening swords at
their grindstones, cascaded in every direction.  The monster fell to roll on
the ground.  It regained its feet in short order to Marik’s dismay.  Did
nothing
put these beasts down for good?

His new assault made the beasts pull back to renew
pacing them.  He cursed that it had not broken them, though thanked Ercsilon it
had
forced them to keep their distance…he stopped himself.  Was such a
prayer appropriately offered to him, of all the Twelve?  A stumble quickly
alerted him to his new problems before he could sort it out.

He could not maintain the stamina technique while
working his mage talent, and he could only form so many orbs before depleting
his physical strength as well as magical.  Gathering fresh energy from the mass
diffusion would replace the stores needed for the orb working until exhaustion
overcame him.  Using the stamina trick between workings dulled the edge except
it was too much to maintain for very long.

Marik knew that the trap formed so neatly around them
was unbreakable.  He shifted his efforts to keeping the beasts at a distance. 
Hopefully, the units would find an opportunity to lose them.

With every step taken that seemed less likely.  The
beasts kept with them.  Black-armored figures were visible at times depending
on the terrain.  Morning aged into noon while their pursuers chased them
further away from the battle.

After two marks the sergeants gave up on returning to
the outpost.  The men were weary.  Alternated pacing kept them from dropping. 
Kineta had spent most of the run thinking aloud when not barking orders to aim
for a lone grove or curve around a narrow stream in an attempt to shake their
hunters.  Her plans had shifted to simply escaping with their lives.  Sloan
contributed little, spending his energies on the hard trot and keeping his eyes
darting from beast to beast.

An offhand remark from Chiksan looked to hold an
unpleasant reality rather than a cynical prediction.  He had commented, hardly
panting as he did so, that these unnatural creatures would chase them to the
Rovasii’s edge and beyond if nothing changed.

At mid-afternoon, while Marik fired orbs to keep the
white-robes from getting ideas, he thought the Tullainian would prove correct. 
The mercenaries only slowed long enough to work out the stitches formed in
their sides from running too long.  It would have taken an entire day to
journey past Atcheron’s holding and reach the forest at an ordinary pace.  They
would be within the trees before nightfall if Marik kept them from being
overtaken.

If we last so long,
he thought bitterly. 
We’re all hardened men, but we can’t run all
day with heavy equipment burdening us!

Still, they had already run five candlemarks.  He
would have refused to believe they could manage that much.  Amazing how men
could outperform their limitations when their lives were in the balance.

But not even their lives could keep them running
endlessly.  They were close to collapse when they neared Sorrensfield, one of
the three villages under Atcheron’s care.  It lay a mile to their east.

Kineta and Sloan never considered for a moment running
to Sorrensfield.  It would provide no shelter to them or aid against the
monsters.  Nevertheless, it did provide them with time, in the end.