Spirit Past (Book 8) (19 page)

Inspired by the destruction of so many undead, the soldiers fell in behind the behemoth with zeal. Led by their captain, they pressed out to the sides of the gate, forming a wide wedge. They struck with mace and sword while holding sturdy shields to block the counterstrikes of their foes. They smashed and sliced through arms and legs, dropping dozens to the ground in the first melee.

With each monster that fell—no longer able to rise on broken legs or reach out with shattered arms—the bodies shimmered slightly and then grew still. The magic departed and left heaps of unmoving corpses.

Ryson watched the initial stages from the top of the wall. Time was precious, but so too was the information he gathered. He gauged the movements of both the soldiers and the undead.

Certain of what he needed to do, Ryson leapt out into a small portion of open ground slightly to the left of the opened gate. Twirling about like a whirlwind, his war blades sliced through the limbs of every creature around him. When the corpses fell to the ground, they formed a small obstacle that offered the delver additional room. Just as other monsters staggered over the fallen bodies to reach him, he turned directly toward the western gate and plowed through the throng until he reached the wedge of guards. With a stunning leap, Ryson jumped over the line of soldiers and into the cleared space in front of the gate.

Ryson watched the movement of the undead legion to ensure his plan worked as he hoped. He saw broad lines of the enemy switch their attention from the town wall and lurch along the trail of corpses that led to the soldiers. In turning the waves of undead toward the town's defenses, he achieved his objective.

In a blur of motion, he leapt back up to the wall and raced further to the north. After spotting another small clearing, he completed the same maneuver and created another trail back to the wedge.

Again and again, he repeated the process even as the soldiers continued to spread out from their original formation. By enticing the undead to follow him, he kept a constant surge of monsters flowing directly to the guards' position.

While Ryson snaked through the horde, Dzeb crashed through it, leaving large swaths of destruction in his wake. He left the head of the soldiers' wedge and surged outward on his own through the sea of moving corpses.

He smashed bloat spiders into pulp, sent hooks hawks flying back into the forest, and stomped goblins into broken piles of debris. Frighteningly relentless and astonishingly quick, the cliff behemoth downed hundreds of the undead as he waded through the shifting mass. Even the largest of shags fell before his might, and none could even scratch his thick skin.

Under Klusac's direction, the soldiers fanned out from the open gate, expanding the wedge with each swing of a sword or mace. Once one row of the undead fell, the soldiers stepped quickly around and over their victims and back up against the edge of the ghastly legion. Guards in reserve moved up quickly into the spaces that opened between the soldiers as their line of attack continued to surge forward while maintaining its outward curve like a large elf bow. They never had to chase after their foes, for the delver kept a constant flow of undead creatures flowing toward their lines.

Hundreds upon hundreds of animated monsters fell to Burbon's defenses. Soon, the entire western edge of the wall was cleared and only a meager few monsters staggered out from behind the hills or past the trees of the forest.

Their confidence swelling, the soldiers' bowed line broke at the center. Half swung to the south and the other half to the north. They pushed through the clearing, trapping hundreds more of the undead between their line of shields and the town's wall. Swinging swords and maces continued to slice and crush the undead invaders.

With unyielding determination, Dzeb and Ryson rushed through the ranks of animated monsters and quickly reached the eastern border of the town. The creatures they did not eliminate were forced toward Burbon's guard. Dzeb's raw power and Ryson's speed nearly cleared the eastern wall when Ryson had to abandon the undead and return to the edge of the forest.

Sprinting around the soldiers at the edge of the clearing, the delver made his way back to the western portion of Burbon. He leapt up to the top of the wall and then on to the tower roof. From his heightened position, he could see trees in the distance falling in great waves. The cracks of limbs and branches had grown louder than the conflict with the undead, and the delver knew the thrastil would soon be clear of the forest.

Racing back to the line of the soldiers, Ryson located the guard captain.

"You have to pull back, bring everyone inside the wall."

"We're not done yet," Klusac disputed. "There's still a few left. Not many, but..."

"We've done enough, more than I thought we would," Ryson revealed. "But the thrastil is closing in on us. You can't have your soldiers caught outside when it gets here."

"I'll give the signal to fall back," Klusac allowed without further argument. "How do you suggest we deal with the thrastil?"

Ryson didn't have an answer, at least not one he liked.

"Use lookouts on the tower to keep track of its movements," Ryson finally advised. "If it breaks through the wall, let it pass and deal with the stragglers of undead that will probably follow it inside."

"And the thrastil?"

"Dzeb and I will try to keep it out of the town, but we'll follow it wherever it goes. We'll work on its weakest points."

Klusac eyed the delver with suspicion.

"You don't sound sure about this."

"It's the best we can do. I'll keep moving and do what I can to take out its legs. I'll have Dzeb try to outflank it, keep it as confused as possible. We'll try to keep it in the clearing, but it's so big that it's bound to make a few breaks in the wall."

"No," Klusac replied.

The simple yet forceful response caught the delver off guard.

"No? We don't have time for..."

"I know we don't have time, that's why you're going to get Dzeb and prepare to do just as you said, but my soldiers aren't going to just sit this out. I'm only going to order a quarter of the guard to return behind the wall. They'll stay in reserve and fight any undead stragglers that make it through. The rest will be outside... with me. We'll circle the thing, shoot it with arrows, swipe at it from every angle. Every bit of damage is going to help."

"Are you sure about this?" Ryson asked.

"Beyond sure. These soldiers won't let me lead them if I tell them to hide behind the wall. We'll do our best to stay out of your way, but if this thing is as big as you say, we'll all have room for a shot."

Klusac did not allow for further debate. He gave his orders to the signal towers. The town guard quickly disengaged from the few remaining undead and moved to the western edge of the city. Some took positions behind the wall, but most stayed in the clearing that surrounded the town. When the western gate was pulled shut, those outside looked to the growing clamor in the trees of Dark Spruce.

Knowing it was useless to argue, Ryson rushed off to get Dzeb, and the two returned just before the thrastil broke from the trees. He had seen a thrastil before... in the
Lacobian Desert. He thought he was prepared for the monster. He wasn't. Alive it was a terrifying sight. Dead, yet still moving, it was beyond horrible.

It moved with all the grace of a half-crushed insect, slowed and imbalanced by its state of decay. Its yellow eyes were glassy and uneven, one slightly swollen and bulging from the socket. The scaled skin around its head bubbled and twitched with every uneven step. It appeared to chew on the air as if trying to bite some invisible prey.

The delver could not believe the stench surrounding the monster. A noxious cloud that grew stronger when the thrastil opened its long, protruding mouth rolled off its form like a dense fog pressed forward by an uneven breeze. The teeth that were visible whether the creatures jaws were open or shut were dark gray or black, and the inside of its mouth was covered with oozing sores.

The thick shell plates surrounding its body were mostly undamaged, but there were several breaks and cracks, not that that would make it any more vulnerable. Using  blades to stab the creature's scorpion-shaped body, even through the fractures, would have been a useless endeavor. The eight legs remained totally intact as did one of the grasping claws. The second claw, however, was much more damaged and the lower portion of the pincher had broken off completely. The segmented tail was also clearly in decay, but the beast was still able to hold it aloft in a forward curve over its back.

Before the monstrosity could stumble completely into the clearing, Ryson considered the best method for attack. From the trail of broken trees behind it, he knew it remained prodigiously strong. He realized such a beast could easily topple the wall surrounding the town. Despite its unsteady movements on high-jointed legs, he believed it could show signs of quickness if provoked. He knew the jaws could open and snap shut in the blink of an eye if anyone got too close to its putrid mouth. The tail and the one working claw were also to be avoided.

If they were to succeed, they had to assault the creature from the sides and take out its legs. Ryson measured its unsteady movements. If they could sufficiently damage five or more legs, the creature would not be able to move its massive weight. It would remain dangerous, but they could then attack from a safe distance, perhaps with trebuchets and catapults.

Ryson didn't wish to place the giant in such jeopardy, but he believed Dzeb was their one true hope. The behemoth had the power to do the most damage, possibly snap an entire leg with one mighty strike. The delver called out to the titan before the rampaging monster could make its way to the wall.

"Dzeb! Go for the legs. Try to get behind it, but watch out for the tail. I'll distract the head. If we can immobilize it, we can destroy it."

The giant took off without delay and made a wide circular path around the thrastil's right side. He did not run. Instead, he moved deliberately in a steady pace while keeping a watchful eye on the creature's raised claw.

Ryson raced out in front of the monster, waving his war blades like a madman. He leapt side to side, ran toward and then away from the beast. He dodged the first swipe of the intact claw, even managed to strike it with one of his war blades as it passed. The exterior shell remained surprisingly hard, and he caused no damage. It was like hitting a stone boulder rolling down unsteady ground. Ryson took the worst of it, as the impact stung the delver's hand.

With both Ryson and Dzeb engaging the monster, Klusac shouted orders to his soldiers.

"Break into groups by companies! Platoon commanders form two lines within your ranks! First company take the left flank, second company take the right. Third company stay between the monster and the wall. Archers! Take to the wall and prepare to fire!"

Ryson continued to harass the thrastil, remaining close enough to hold its attention and moving fast enough to dodge the swinging claw and the chomping jaws. He moved in such a way that he never gave ground, but he never allowed the beast a realistic chance of catching him. When the thrastil lurched toward the wall, Ryson jumped at its thick neck just beyond the crease of its jaws. He stabbed at the corner of its mouth with enough force to turn the creature slightly back to the trees. After the thrastil stumbled slightly to its left side, the delver rushed back to the front of the monster, keeping it from making any progress.

With its focus entirely on the delver, the thrastil ignored the soldiers taking their positions. It kept snapping at the irritating yet persistent nuisance that remained near its scaly face, as if frustrated by a bug that would not leave it alone. It also never saw Dzeb leaping toward its vulnerable limbs.

The cliff behemoth added the power of his jump to the strength of his arms, and the full brunt of his strike landed directly upon the center joint of the right rear leg. The leg snapped, and the bottom half fell to the ground below Dzeb's feet as he landed upon the clearing just behind the monster.

The thrastil turned with a surprising twist, but as opposed to turning toward the behemoth, the monster swayed away and toward its left side. The motion brought the tail down like a whip. The poisoned tipped appendage swung low toward the ground, speeding across the clearing in a blur that matched the speed of a delver. The creature roared as it continued to twist away from the cliff behemoth, but it seemed to deliberately keep its head tilted to one side.

Dzeb never saw the tail. It struck him from behind and square in the back. The sound of impact was like a stonewall shattering instantly within an empty cave. Upon contact, the giant dropped into unconsciousness as he was flung across the clearing and deep into the hills to the south.

Ryson wished to rush after the behemoth—wanted to help his friend—but he couldn't afford to leave Burbon unprotected. Dzeb might have been their best hope to defeat the monster, but the beast was finally turning its attention toward the wall as well as the soldiers in front of it. Ryson was about to dash towards the thrastil's jaws once more, hoping to gain its attention, but a surprising call held him in place.

"Ryson!" Klusac shouted, and then followed with a stern order. "Fall back!"

Stunned by the command, Ryson backed away to a safe distance, but then paused. He couldn't just give up. He knew the thrastil would storm right through the line of soldiers and then the town wall. It would destroy Burbon in a slow but methodical rampage, turning shops and homes into rubble with its claw, tail, and massive body.