Page 71 of Crucible of Chaos

Two down,he thought, swallowing bile at the grizzly sight.Luck has smiled on me more than I deserve, yet still the Trumpeters refuse to fight.

A pair of cackling creatures rushed him, but with Caeda’s help, he sent them reeling back, crying out from their wounds.

‘General Leogado,’ he shouted at the top of his lungs, slashing his blade wide to discourage the other monsters, praying his words would not only reach the top of the Vigilance Tower, but would pierce the armour around Leogado’s conscience, ‘your brethren suffer and die while you hide within the safety of your stout walls. Will you cower while others fight the only battle that mat—?’

Blood dripped into his right eye, and only then did he notice the glancing blow he’d taken in the last attack. His opponents saw it too. Laughing and jeering, one of them proudly displayed the taloned fingertip that had done the deed.

‘I’ve taken worse from chestnuts hurled by angry squirrels offended by my napping beneath their tree on a warm summer’s day,’ Estevar declared, wiping the blood from his brow and flicking it at the demons.

They might be faster and stronger than any mortal he’d ever fought, their monstrous deformations as deadly as any weapons he’d ever faced, but Estevar had three advantages. First, the demons lacked his tactical expertise. Second, they were show-offs, each wanting a chance to kill him alone. Third, whatever diabolical magic had transfigured the monks had also driven them irretrievably insane.

‘Estevar!’ Caeda screamed in warning, and he whipped round to face an opponent even more bizarre. This one had two heads, a man’s and a woman’s, resting on the massive shoulders of a body easily eight feet tall. Estevar ducked under the first blow of its monstrously thick arm while slicing one tree-trunk of a leg with his rapier, although the blade failed to pierce the thick skin. Caeda made a valiant attempt to shatter its other knee with her hatchet, but the creature barely noticed, knocking her aside with such force that her feet left the ground. She landed in a heap six paces away.

Fighting back the impulse to run to her, Estevar raised the tip of his rapier and thrust it with all his might through the left eye of one monstrous head. The creature’s screech of outrage and pain was cut short as Estevar drove the point further into its brain.

He tried to catch his breath as he waited for the monster to fall, but instead, gasped at the hideous squeal from the demon’s second head when she began laughing uproariously at her mate’s misfortune. Estevar tried to get his sword arm back up for another thrust, but he was too late; her gigantic hand had grabbed his head and shoved him to the ground, where, pinned to the flagstones, she began crushing his skull.

Smothered in that huge, leathery palm, gagging from the stench of the blood and gore of the behemoth’s previous victim now splattering her, he attempted a blind thrust at where he guessed the living head would be, only to cry out as a foot stomped down on his wrist, immobilising his sword arm.

Enthusiastic clapping erupted from the other demons as the hulking beast gradually pressed down harder on Estevar’s head, grinding his face into the flagstones. The pressure building between his temples was agonising. The creature was savouring his terror, almost drinking it in, until at last, she would split his skull open. Frantically, he struck out with the knuckles of his free hand, trying to catch the nerves of the demon’s wrist and forearm, but to no avail.

As the last dregs of consciousness began to flee, he was left with nothing but bitter self-recrimination over his foolish gambit, arrogance conspiring with unmerited hope. He’d thought that if he could prove the demons were vulnerable to mortal weapons, Mother Leogado would bring the other surviving monks of the abbey to his aid.

His killer’s breath was hot in his right ear and he felt the wetness of her tongue licking his lobe as she whispered, ‘Now it is we who judge you, Tratta—’

A thunderous clacking against the flagstones interrupted the creature’s triumph, growing louder as it passed through the archway and into the courtyards. The demons encircling him screeched in outrage as something barrelled through them, skidding to a stop just behind Estevar’s head. He heard a roar—No, not a roar, but something else– something fuelled by an unyielding defiance and a fiery spirit that neither devilry nor the deep blue sea could douse.

A bray,Estevar had time to think as a dull thud was followed by a deafening crack. At first, he assumed it was the bones of his own skull that had given way, because the terrible pressure in his head suddenly eased. But when he managed to turn over, he was greeted by the sight of a pair of large brown testicles dangling over him, and the sorrel-haired belly of a beast no less terrifying in its fury for not, in fact, being a demon.

‘Imperious!’ he cried out with unrestrained joy, rolling himself out from under the mule.

Imperious whinnied agreeably, stamping one hoof on the flagstones to warn off any enemies thinking of encroaching on his territory. The demons retreated several steps to hiss and snarl at this new foe, apparently more offended–and fearful–of Imperious than they had been of Estevar. Imperious brayed a challenge right back at them, pounding his front right hoof against the flagstones as if daring them to approach.

The thumping footsteps of a hulking figure in grey robes signalled the arrival of Malezias, who ran to Caeda’s side and helped her to her feet. ‘You gods-be-damned fool,’ he cursed Estevar. ‘That idiot mule of yours broke through the wall of the stable where I was commanded to watch over him. I risked my life to try and recapture him– only to discover that you brought my Lady here, into this. . . thismadness?’

‘Cease your nagging, Malezias,’ Caeda said, sounding somewhat dazed. She looked around for her hatchet. ‘I’m not some waif to be fought over at the country fair,’ she added, picking up her weapon.

‘Forgive me,’ the big man pleaded, abandoning his outrage in the face of her annoyance.

You’ve known all along, haven’t you, Malezias?Estevar realised.You knew the truth, yet you kept it from everyone, even her, because you so badly wanted to love her a little longer.

This wasn’t the time to consider the consequences of the lovelorn fool’s lapse in judgement, because the demons had apparently come to the conclusion that Imperious was not some angry god come to hurl thunder and fire down upon them. One by one they grinned at each other, nodding knowingly, before all two dozen suddenly swarmed over the four belligerent mortals with ruthless efficiency. Within seconds, Estevar was being throttled by one creature while two others went for Caeda and Malezias with claws and horns, ensuring they couldn’t come to his aid.

Far worse was the braying squeal that drew Estevar’s horrified gaze from the demon choking him to the far larger pair who had hold of Imperious’ front and back hooves. They flipped the poor mule onto his back and gleefully began to pull in opposite directions.

‘No!’ Estevar tried to shout, but no sound came from his lungs. The creature squeezing its hands around his neck was laughing, leaning in close to his face and repeating, ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ in delighted malice at his despair. Imperious was kicking furiously at his tormentors, but they were too strong. Any second now, they would rip apart the frantic mule.

Estevar had never counted himself a praying man, but he prayed now, to any god or saint who would listen, prayed with all his heart that someone would answer the mule’s cries before it was too late.

‘Please!’ he begged silently, struggling to hold onto consciousness. ‘You can’t let him die– he’s not just a beast of burden: he’s brave and he’s wise, and a truer companion than I’ve ever known. Let there be one miracle left in this gods-forsa—’

The voice that answered his prayers was surely not the one that either Estevar or Imperious would have chosen as their saviour.

‘Leave them alone, you ugly bastards!’ cried Strigan, staggering naked and dazed into the courtyard, a rapier shaking in his unsteady grip. As he looked around, bearing witness to what his vanity and greed had wrought among his followers, he bellowed, ‘I am the Wolf-King! Do you hear me? I am the Sorcerer Sovereign of Isola Sombra, and I do hereby banish you all to the deepest pits of the Seven Hells!’

The outlandish rant might have failed to terrify the demons as he’d intended, but it did provide a moment’s distraction. The talons around Estevar’s throat slackened and the bestial creatures torturing Imperious dropped him back to the ground as they joined their eager, grinning fellows and turned on their erstwhile leader.

‘Back!’ Strigan shouted, frantically swinging his rapier in wide arcs that served only to reassure his encroaching enemies that his blade was no threat to them whatsoever. ‘Back, damn you– I command you!Your dread liege demands obedience!’

---