Ghosts Of Alfhaven (Book 2) (17 page)

Sawain tightened his grip on the massive sword, “We're not interested.”

Jatharr smacked his shield with his sword defiantly, “That's right! We are going to stop this spread of your abominations!”

Naralei shouted as she drew a throwing knife, “You will not take our home! We will stop you!”

Banthan shouted at the top of his lungs, “For Alfhaven!”

Mari shouted louder, “For Hammerhold!”

Sibilach appeared at Sawain's left, “Get off of my land, you filthy vermin!”

Sawain could tell by its body language that the priest was disappointed. He grinned defiantly at the oncoming army of the dead.

“Looks like no one here is willing to convert today. Unfortunate for you. Now, it is time to send you all to the abyss! Ghosts, none of these things leave alive!”

The priest laughed. It was a deep, throaty laugh that rattled like the bones in its head dress. It motioned to the barbarians and they broke formation. Each one slowly moved away from the others until they were spread out into a wide arch. By now, the number of risen corpses doubled. They all lurched slowly toward the cabin.

Sibilach cackled, “Your little army is not well suited for this terrain, Grey Priest. You chose the wrong battlefield today.”

She raised her hand with the palm facing the bog. It began to boil. The living  creatures stirred uncomfortably, but the boil soon subsided. The priest's staff was again raised in the air. Darkness radiated from it.

“You are not the only one with access to otherworldly magic, Faerie. My devotion is stronger than your witchcraft. You will all convert, even if it is through force! Go now, my children! Tear the life from their bodies! Take care of the corpses, especially the Faerie's. The Grey King has plans for it.”

The enemy let out a chorus of battle cries and unnatural sounds. Sawain took a deep breath  then let it out. He was ready for this fight.

Chapter 17

The barbarians urged their swimming mounts forward. Sawain was thankful that they weren't as fast this time.

“Kill the hounds, Let the bog take their riders!”

Naralei launched a flurry of knives at the closest Bjornhund. They sank into their target, which caused it to howl in anguish and thrash about. The rider held on for dear life and dropped the bow it wielded into the swamp.

Banthan followed suit and struck another rider in the chest. It instantly crumpled over the shoulders of its Bjornhund. Jatharr and Sawain rushed to the dock and swatted the undead that crawled up from below. Broken bones flew in every direction as Sawain hacked at the gnashing skeletons. He chopped down on a new enemy and easily cleaved its skull and spine. He chopped so hard that the remaining force was enough to embed his sword in the dock. He pulled hard at it, but could not get it loose. He heard a gurgle from behind him. He turned and raised his gauntlet armored arm as a half rotten zombie lurched at him. It was knocked off course by Jatharr, who charged it with an expertly placed shield bash that shattered a knee cap. The broken zombie's momentum carried it off the other side of the dock. It splashed into the water below and knocked a skeleton dog back as well.

Sawain ripped the sword from the dock, “Thanks, Jatharr.”

Jatharr shattered a skeleton's pelvis with the serrated edge of his shield, “Any time, Deathsbane. Look out!”

Sawain instinctively ducked and a volley of arrows soared over his head. They planted themselves harmlessly in the side of Sibilach's house. Sawain looked in the direction of the origin of attack. The remaining berserkers wielded bows and had already notched them for another volley. Sibilach let out a high pitched scream that shook the docks and made everyone reach to cover their ears.

“MY HOUSE! You'll burn for that, wretches!”

Several small rays of fire shot past Sawain. The three riders closest to Sawain were each struck by two or three of the slender rays. They completely pierced their targets and ignited them as well. Two of them screamed and thrashed about until they fell into the bog. One was hit in the head and fell onto his Bjornhund, which ignited the creature. It yelped and dived into the muck. Several of the fiery rays shot at the priest, but it raised a hand and they hit an invisible wall. It chuckled dryly.

Sawain was impressed by the carnage Sibilach wreaked  There were only a few of the riders left now. The survivors drew nearer to the house. One stood up on its mount's back. The runes under its skin mask glowed brightly as it crouched and prepared to leap at the porch. Banthan, Mari, and Timbrel were close to this threat.

Mari shouted, “It's gonna jump!”

Timbrel produced his tambourine, “Not if I can help it!”

He began to beat out a rhythmic cadence. The berserker's muscles relaxed and it swayed from side to side. Mari pulled out her clay flute and joined the cadence with a lilting ditty that caused their enemy to start dancing more. It stumbled and fell into the swamp below and screamed helplessly as it's dancing Bjornhund trampled it into the muck.

Mari and Timbrel whooped as the dancing canine stumbled and fell into the sucking mud. The last of the riders approached the side of the house with little protection and managed to jump to the porch. It roared triumphantly as it charged Sibilach with lightning fast speed. Sibilach heard it coming and waved her hand. It exploded into a cloud of smoke inches from her. When the smoke cleared, the berserker was replaced by an egg roughly the size of Sawain's fist.

Sibilach cackled hysterically at the egg, “Did you really think a head on assault would work against a Faerie? You are more foolish than you look!”

Sawain ripped his sword out of the zombie corpse he just ran through. He looked around and noticed that the berserkers were dispatched. He grinned broadly and glared at the priest, who did not move from his spot.

“
Your attack has failed. Now you will fall with the rest of  your foul army!”

The mentioned army of the dead was now creeping up on the porch from every angle. The Outriders and Sibilach had their hands full as they tried to keep them at bay. Rays of fire shot in every direction. Swords hacked away at bone. Mari and Timbrel's music did not seem to affect them, so they also resorted to slashing away. Sibilach's pixies joined in the fray as well. It was still not enough to hold back the tide of the dead.

The priest chuckled in its rattling voice, “You think I have failed? I have only just started to fight.”

The priest raised its staff into the air and began to chant. A shock wave of darkness spread out across the battlefield. Sawain winced when it hit him. Old wounds began to open on the surface of his skin. The dark aura was trying to tear him apart. He heard screams from the others and assumed the same happened to them. He saw dozens of pixies fall into the swamp as they writhed in pain.

The priest's rattling laughter filled the gloom. The dead berserkers and Bjornhunds rose from the swamp. The living ones thrashed uncontrollably as the darkness worked on tearing their life from their bodies. Sawain gripped his great sword.

“
Don't give up! Fight through the pain! Sibilach, is there something you can do about this? I need to get to that priest!”

Sibilach groaned in anguish as the spell affected her also, “I can try to create a land bridge and counter this aura, but it will take much concentration and a little time. You are Turin's chosen. You should be able to counteract this haze as well. Use your Icon to call on his protection!”

Sawain nodded, “Alright. Ghosts, protect Sibilach while she casts her spells!”

Banthan grunted, “We're doing the best we can! We're being overrun!”

Jatharr smashed through a chicken skeleton as he ran up the pier to get to Sibilach, “Don't worry, just hold em til Sawain can break the spell!”

One of the undead berserkers jumped onto the dock from below, just inches from Sawain. He was able to move enough for his armor to deflect the deadly sword thrust. He staggered back and swung recklessly at the attacker. It ducked the massive blade and countered with a fast uppercut.

Sawain shifted back enough to avoid the cut, then found his footing on the edge of the dock. He thrust forward and made contact with the berserker's right rib cage. It shattered under the weight of the attack and the sword cleaved a gaping wound in its side that did not slow it down. It knocked the sword of kilter then thrust at Sawain's chest. He stumbled backwards and fell off of the dock.

He expected a splash, but hit soft, dry ground. Sibilach's spell must have taken effect. He looked up and saw the berserker leap from the pier. He raised his sword to impale the enemy. It hit the blade with its sword arm shoulder. The huge sword severed bone and flesh. The berserker's arm fell to the ground. Sawain kicked it in the crotch and used it as leverage to flip the undead creature off of him. He rolled to his feet just as the unarmed berserker stumbled up. Sawain roared with his own innate fury as he swung at his foe in a wide arc. The momentum carried the sword through marrow and tissue. The berserker fell to the ground, cut in half at the waist. Its upper half tried to pull itself up, but Sawain was ready for it. He thrust the great sword downward and severed the creature's head from its body.

Now that this threat was dealt with, Sawain turned to the priest. It was on dry land now and surrounded by the remaining undead berserkers and their hounds. It growled to its risen entourage.

“Kill him! Tear him apart! I don't care what you do to him any more! Just don't let him near me!”

Sawain's eyes filled with red as hatred flooded his heart. He grit his teeth as the inner rage flooded his muscles. He let out an earth shaking roar and charged headlong into the fray. Two of the berserkers met him quickly, but he was already in mid-swing. Their swords and limbs shattered on contact. They staggered back, stunned by his ferocity. Another wild swing chopped them in half as well. Sawain did not stop to finish them. He pressed onward. A Bjornhund got in his way next. He brought the sword up in an uppercut that split the gnashing maw in half. It thrashed and rolled out of his way. Before he knew it, he was mere feet from the cowering priest, but surrounded by the remaining threats.

Two of the berserkers jumped him at once. He followed through with the same cleaving sweep as before, but before he could recover, he was knocked onto his face by a crushing force from behind. The rage and wind were knocked out of him as one of the undead Bjornhunds pinned him to the ground. He could see the feet of the remaining enemies gather around him, as well as the sneering faces of the ones he cut down already. Then he heard the priest's dark, hollow voice.

“
So close, boy. Too bad for you. Now you will die here. Then, when you are dead, I will bring you back. Your being will be completely under my control. Then, I will use this strength of yours to cut down your friends and raze this shack to the ground.”

Sawain struggled under the crushing weight, but could barely breathe, much less move. He grit his teeth and closed his eyes. He heard the priest speak as he began to pray.

“Kill him.”

Lord Turin, pour your holy energy into me, burst forth like a righteous wave and burn away my enemies.

Sawain heard the rumble of thunder as he prayed. Light flashed brightly and the sound of a hundred explosions shook the earth. The hound that pinned Sawain yelped loudly and got off of him. He heard the undead around him hiss angrily and looked up to see them shield their faces with smoldering arms.

He struggled to his feet, still tired from the rage. He pulled out his totem. It was glowing with a white light.

This must mean it's working.

“
Holy fire of Turin, burst forth and purify this place!”

The Icon hummed and a white aura erupted from it. It dissipated the darkness and knocked all the undead within range off their feet. They screamed and hissed as bone and flesh ignited. The wave hit the priest and the gem on its staff shattered. Its garments smoldered and it let out a hollow scream. It jumped off of its hound and onto a tree branch, out of the sphere of light's reach.

“You will pay for this, boy! I  will hunt you down and kill everyone you hold dear!”

Sawain grit his teeth and focused the holy energy into his sword, “You won't get the chance! You die here!”

He threw his great sword at the priest. It spun wildly through the air. The priest gasped as the sword pinned it to the tree. It fell slump and let out a dying breath. Sawain smiled and let relief wash over him. It was short lived. The priest's rattling laugh poured from the corpse. It turned its blank face to Sawain.

“
Do you really think that a priest of the Grey King would die so easily? Next time we meet, boy, I will keep my word.”

The creature's body crumbled to ash, but its mask and head dress detached from the rest of it, which revealed the face of a  regular zombie underneath. The mask sprouted large bat-like wings and fluttered away, high above the trees.

Sawain growled as he helplessly watched it fly away. He turned his attention to the wreckage around the yard. The bones and bodies of the dead were scattered about the yard and the porch. The Ghosts of Alfhaven surrounded Sibilach. They were all covered in lacerations and dripped blood, but still stood proud. Sawain could hear their heavy breathing from where he was.

“
Good job, Ghosts, we stopped them this time.”

Sibilach groaned, still holding up her hands, “That's wonderful, child, but could you get back up here so I can let the swamp back in?”

Sawain nodded, “Oh, right, sorry.”

Swamp water rushed toward Sawain as he ran back to the dock. He climbed up just as the churning water turned the solid ground into hungry mud once more.  Sibilach sat with her back against the wall of her house. She wiped sweat and blood from her brow as she caught her breath. The others sat down where they were. Everyone was surrounded by bones and corpses. Sibilach shook her head.

“Look at this mess! None of you are allowed to leave until it's cleaned up. Sawain, you should try channeling some of that divine energy into us to patch these wounds.”

Sawain grinned at her nervously, “Uh, are you sure about that? I mean, last time I tried that, it seared my target's leg like a red hot iron.”

Everyone glanced at each other uncomfortably. Sibilach waved it off.

“
That was before you had the icon. Go ahead, try it out now.”

Sawain sighed and gripped his totem, “Alright, if you're sure about it.”

Sibilach nodded, “Just ask Turin to pour his healing wind through you. He'll take care of the rest.”

Sawain nodded and closed his eyes, “Turin, god of the Sturmforge, pour your healing wind through me and heal my friends and myself.”

The Icon pulsated with bright light. Sawain could feel a breeze like a gentle whirlwind kick up around him. The breeze circled out from him and blew over everyone on the porch. They all stared at themselves in awe as their wounds painlessly stitched themselves back together. Even Sawain's wounds pulled themselves together. It did not hurt, but it was still a strange sensation.

Weariness took over and the whirlwind subsided. Sawain dropped slowly to the porch floor, breathless.