Vitiosi Dei (Heritage of the Blood Book 2) (2 page)

              Nim wanted nothing more than to be fighting on the front line. Unfortunately, when it came to full-out military engagements, the Field Marshall of the Wardens would relinquish command to anyone over the rank of Major General. It didn't seem to matter to Field Marshall Bannis that Nim was retired, so he had been relegated to command while Ashur, Dunnagan, Zander, and Cypherious were on the front lines with the Wardens fighting back thousands of Dracair. Never before had the Dracair fielded a force as powerful as the one that was now assaulting the city of Asylum, and Nim was the one trying to keep everything together. Life had a sick sense of humor.

              Nim had runners spread throughout the city, bringing him reports on enemy movements. The first thing he had done when he realized he was the one in command was to order his men to find him a map. Nim stood over that map, making notations whenever a new report was brought to him. Wasting men as runners put another bur into his backside, but information was vital in any engagement, and at the moment it was more important to have these men feeding him information than it was to have them on the front line.

              The Dracair were slowly pushing his men back, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before they had to retreat behind the inner wall. Thankfully, they had decided not to tear it down when the city had outgrown its original limits, or they might have been fighting a no win scenario. Nim had ordered Zander and the remaining Mages to check the integrity of the inner wall before sending them to the front line with the rest of his men. They reported that the wall was in good shape, and that a large portion of the original wards were still holding strong.

              Nim wanted to have the Mages on the walls fortifying it further, but until the monks showed up it was not a sound decision. Looking down at the map at the little statues that represented where Ashur and Dunnagan were last reported to be, Nim thought that it wouldn't matter how strong the walls were; if those monks didn't show up soon, there wouldn't be anyone left alive to defend anyway.

              “Ho, ho, lad! That one almost took off yer head!” Dunnagan said as he ducked a blow from one of the gigantic axes wielded by the Dracair Warriors.

              “Nah, I had plenty of time to dodge that, these lizards swing slower than you!” Ashur laughed at the look Dunnagan shot him before dodging another blow.

              The soldiers near the two grizzled men listened to the banter with no small amount of awe. It was hard enough for most of them to take a breath, let alone carry a conversation while battling their massive foes. Ashur and Dunnagan were not only joking with each other, but they were taking more of the enemy out than the rest of the unit combined. It seemed to the men that the wave of Dracair was endless—every time one fell, there were another two to take its place.

              Slowly but surely, they were being pressed backwards. The stone walls around them were chipped and battered where errant blades had connected. As they moved backward, the cobblestone road was tinged crimson by the blood of the wounded and the fallen, a grisly reminder of the price of each step. If they hadn't taken out the detachment of Magnus Dracani earlier, however, they would already be fighting a losing battle for the inner wall. Zander had disappeared sometime shortly thereafter, and Ashur could hear chaos suddenly erupt behind enemy lines, so he knew the Battlesorcerer was still out there somewhere, doing what he did best.

              Ashur noticed large signs outside the buildings, each step backward bringing them further into the merchant quarter of the city. The Dracani seemed to get as much enjoyment from destroying the signs and window displays of these wealthy shops as they did from trying to gut the soldiers of the Protectorate. Behind him, he heard several merchants escaping the coming battle, not willing to abandon their wares until the last moment. There had been several who had not reacted quickly enough, their greed causing them to die at the hands of the Dracair.

              Glancing to his left, Ashur watched Dunnagan's axe sweep down towards the neck of one of the Dracair Warriors. The Dracani's body took another step forward before it realized that something was missing and tumbled to the ground. Dunnagan was a good three feet shorter than even the smallest of the Dracair Warriors, but the battle hardened old Dwarf seemed to always be at eye level whenever he finished one off. When fighting the Dracair, little else would be enough, thanks to their ability to heal wounds rapidly. Removing the head was efficient. Doing large amounts of damage quickly enough would occasionally cause systems to go into shock, but even then it wasn't long until they were back in the fight. Ashur had found himself fighting the same Dracani several times that day, as the warriors would sometimes fall back before he could do enough damage, and wait until they were healed to resume the battle.

              A light green Dracani stepped up next to the one Ashur had been fighting, interrupting his line of thought. Dracair were greedy and selfish by nature, rarely willing to share a kill. Unfortunately for Ashur, the two Dracani in front of him didn't seem to know this, and seemed perfectly fine with working together to end his life.

              Ashur had learned many years ago that combat in such close quarters was not the best place to use his weapon of choice, so his greatsword's pommel still protruded from the sheath on his back. Instead, he held his longsword in one hand and one of Dunnagan's throwing axes in the other. Neither was his ideal choice of weapon against the massive battle-axes that the Dracani Warriors seemed to favor, but they were all he had at the moment and would have to do.

              One of the first things Ashur learned during training was that the best defense was to not get hit, but that was easier said than done in such tight quarters. Ashur was slightly broader than most front line troops, and had learned to make do with the limited space available so he wouldn't get in the way of someone else dodging a blow. The one advantage of fighting two Dracani was that the size of their weapons made it difficult for them both to strike him at the same time. That wasn't as much of a strategic concession as one might think, because no matter how much Ashur and Dunnagan joked around, the Dracani were anything but slow.

              Dodging the incoming swing of the light green Dracani to his right, Ashur quickly ducked and felt the wind from the white Dracani's axe as it sailed past his head. Snagging the head of the white Dracani's axe with the throwing axe in his left hand, Ashur tugged, bringing the white Dracani's torso downward long enough to poke the creature in the eye with his longsword.  In the second that it took him to pull off his maneuver against the white Dracani, the light green Dracani was preparing to chop Ashur in half. Letting go of the throwing axe—which was still engaged with the white Dracani's axe—Ashur dropped and rolled to the right, managing to score a gash along the light green Dracani's forearm before ending his roll on the beast's left side. In a rage, the white Dracani swung at Ashur's head, connecting with the light green Dracani's already wounded arm when Ashur ducked the blow. Howling in pain, the wounded Dracani removed his left hand from his axe in order to backhand the white. The green Dracani's anger was cut short a moment later as Ashur aimed his blow at the creature’s right wrist, its axe falling to the ground with the creature’s hand still clutching the weapon.

              Ashur was preparing to move in for the kill, but the white Dracani beat him to it, shearing the light green's head from its shoulders with his mighty axe. Ashur rolled his eyes as he watched the headless body hit the ground.  He managed to pick up the throwing axe in time to dodge the next blow from the one-eyed white Dracani.

              For the next few minutes, Ashur toyed with the battle-raging Dracani, scoring several minor hits and aggravating the creature by moving into its newly acquired blind spot. The Dracani Warrior got a little more frustrated with each near miss, putting just a little more power behind each blow. Ashur dodged to the left, leading the creature's swing into a thick support beam in front of the store to his right. The Dracani's axe ripped through the wooden pillar, barely slowing the swing's momentum.

              Ashur heard a slight groan overhead as the porch on the second floor began to bow when it lost the pillar's support. At the sound, the soldiers in the street fell back a little quicker, and even a few of the Dracair stopped their advance, although the majority of them continued pressing the Protectorate Knights, like predators scenting wounded prey. The white Dracani continued his advance, taking one wild swing after another, his good eye glazed over with hate.

              Ashur goaded the white into another wild swing after a few more steps back, rushing to the right and then immediately hopping backwards into a roll. The Dracani sheared through the post at the other end of the patio. It didn't realize its mistake until the whole thing buckled with a loud groan, sending the second floor careening into the middle of the street on top of several Dracani, including the white.

              The men and women fighting beside Ashur let out a loud whoop, taking a deep breath and enjoying the moment of rest before the following Dracani stepped over the rubble that now covered several of their comrades. Ashur looked towards his old friend, noting several cuts and dents on the Dwarf's armor.

              “I hope we can find a few more as stupid as that one was,” Ashur said, checking his weapons.

              “Aye, haven't seen one that lost in the blood rage for years. Let's hope that they are all that easy to deal with,” Dunnagan huffed, before a slight glow surrounded him, healing several of the Dwarf's wounds.

              Ashur grunted in the affirmative as he met the incoming Dracair's attack.

              Nim was ordering the retreat into the inner wall when the monks from the Order of the Griffon arrived. As the monks ran out of the transport room, Nim began issuing them orders, sending the monks to where they would be the most use. He was issuing a set of instructions to the fourth group to come through the portal when he realized that one of the monks was the Grand Master.

              When Nim had seen the man earlier in the morning, he had been wearing large, loose robes; that man had appeared old and frail. The man who stood in front of him was in superb condition, his age only telling from the neck up. To Nim's surprise, the Grand Master simply bowed slightly, confirming the orders that he had just received, and took off at a healthy gait, heading towards the battle with the rest of his monks.

              The retreat went relatively smoothly with the help of the monks, who engaged the enemy long enough for the other troops to retreat behind the wall. When the Knights, Wardens and the few remaining Guardsmen were behind the gates, the Grand Master ordered them closed. Nim was about to countermand the order when the old man winked at him and went back into the fight. Wanting to see what the old goat had up his sleeve, Nim had the men close and secure the gate before he quickly ran to the top of the wall to watch the monks work.

              Half a block remained before the Dracair would be at the inner wall. The monks seemed to be combining offense and defense into one nonstop motion. The Grand Master redirected an overhead blow from one of the Dracani, twisted his torso, hit the weapon hand of the creature that had just attacked him, and then kicked the creature solidly in the groin. As the Dracani dropped in agony, the Grand Master delivered a round house kick to the creature's chin that twisted its head around backwards. Seeing the brutal efficiency with which the old man had just dispatched the warrior in front of them, the remaining Dracair hesitated.