The Broken Pieces(79)

Barely twenty feet away, the champion snarled and tore into the last of the mercenaries, and amid them Jerico saw Kaide and his band prepared to hold firm. Translucent daggers flew from Bellok’s palm. Their blades broke against the molten hide without shedding a single drop of blood. Again and again Jerico slammed forward, trying to reach them and trusting his platemail to protect him from the strikes he missed. Adam and Griff stepped between the champion and Bellok, and they swung their giant clubs with enough strength to shatter the skull of any mere human. The clubs broke.

“Get back!” Jerico screamed at them, ignoring the pain of a claw slashing open his cheek. Griff crossed his arms in a futile defense. A single swipe stripped them down to bone, and a second broke his neck. Before Adam suffered the same fate, Jerico stepped between them, and he let out a cry as the champion’s claws scraped across his shield.

“About time,” said Kaide, using him as a screen for his own attack. His dirks sliced across molten flesh. Burning blood dripped to the grass, but it was so little it seemed a mockery. Dashing away, Jerico covered his retreat with a strike from his mace, followed by another blow with his shield. The enormous wolf-man took a step back, as if to reevaluate his opponent.

“I know you,” it snarled.

“Can’t say the same.”

“I am Warfang!” the beast roared. “I am your better.”

Jerico braced his shield.

“Let’s see,” he said.

Warfang lunged, and his strikes against Jerico’s shield felt like sledgehammers. Jerico shifted side to side to prevent him from curling around, and then Darius arrived, his sword cutting into Warfang’s bicep all the way down to the bone. Warfang let out a cry, then hurled the paladin back. Jerico, seeing Darius vulnerable, flung himself into an attack, his mace striking the beast’s mouth twice.

“Warfang?” he said. “Better? You amuse me, wolf. Redclaw was better than you.”

The insult cut far deeper than he expected. Warfang leapt into the air, and when he landed atop of Jerico he ignored the pain of the holy shield to crush Jerico into the dirt. Jerico gasped for air, struggling to free his pinned mace. Before Warfang finished the kill, a bright flash blinded him, released from Bellok’s hands. Another followed. The weight left Jerico, and then came the scream as Bellok had his chest torn open. Kaide assaulted immediately, crying out his rage. His dirks were a flash, and for a moment Warfang crossed his arms and accepted them, his burning blood dripping down, and then he lashed out, catching Kaide across the face with the back of his paw.

Jerico staggered to his feet, ignoring the pain in his chest. Kaide weaved side to side, trying to avoid the giant beast’s attacks, but his balance was clearly lost from the blow to his head. Two wolf-men leapt in Jerico’s way, and he barreled through. Before they could chase, Darius attacked from behind, buying Jerico time.

“To me, you coward, to me!” Jerico cried at Warfang, but he was ignored. With terrifying speed Warfang reached out, grabbed Kaide by the front of his tunic and lifted him into the air. His other claw pulled back, but before he could go for the kill Adam flung himself onto the arm. The fire of the wolf-man’s flesh burned into him, and Adam screamed, but still he hung on, wrestling the champion despite his size and strength. Warfang hurled Kaide back, spun, and buried his claws into Adam’s eyes.

“I am the fury of our god!” Warfang cried to them as he flung the corpse aside. “I am the fire and death that will consume you all!”

Jerico swung his mace, but Warfang slammed him back as if he were insignificant. Bracing himself, he found his backwards flight halted by Darius’s arms.

“You’re a dumb, stupid wolf,” Darius said to Warfang as he stepped forward, the light of his sword shining. “Look around you. Your pack is dead, and I don’t see any god to stop me.”

It wasn’t quite true, for there were pockets of scattered fighting everywhere, but in that sliver of time Warfang glanced about Darius thrust his blade. Warfang tried to turn it aside, but it was too late. The tip pierced through ribs, punched through his heart, and then burst out the other side. Warfang convulsed, drool and blood spilling out of his mouth as the power granted to him fled in an instant.

“So much for his fire and death,” Darius said, yanking the blade free and kicking the corpse aside.

“Not quite over yet,” Jerico said, catching his breath. “It looks like the god has come to play.”

From the trees marched a horde of undead, shambling bodies with rotted flesh and haunted eyes. With most of the mercenaries scattered or dead, only the paladins and priests remained to face them. The paladins formed a line, a mere fifteen against the thousand that approached. The few mercenaries who remained joined either side of the line, looking haggard and afraid. Behind them the priests made ready, their hands glowing with the dark light of their spells. Jerico readied himself, for he would not fall, not to the mockeries of life that Cyric had created. No matter the horrifying way they moved toward him, without sign of breath or thought. No matter the rot in their teeth and the blood dried on their hands.