Maroz 5 - A Writhe Attacks

Keln Schovass knelt near the ridge, looking through a dried bush for cover at the soldiers moving below. Hearing someone lightly clear his throat, he turned and gave the men behind him a hard stare. His group had grown but he trusted each one of them and they were all good men with weapons. Whoever had cleared his throat did not do it loud enough to be heard from any distance but Keln would not allow it any chance of getting worse in the future. The two best friends he had ever had stood at the front of the group awaiting their orders. Dawan Margon stood a hefty six feet three inches with light brown hair. He had saved Keln’s life far more than a few times. Next to him stood Stepp Puntera who Keln had known nearly as long as Dawan. Keln had spent many nights just telling jokes with Step or listening to the man play his Lute, which he kept in a steel case to keep it safe during battles. The weird thing was that Keln’s two friends did not know each other very well. There was no animosity between them that Keln could see, but neither did they show any interest in getting to know each other.

Just beneath Dawan and Stepp in rank were Keln’s five brothers. ‘Ress’ with his short fuse of a temper, ‘Wenn’ who had the best mind for trickery that Keln had ever known, ‘Jemmel’ who was as stubborn as a bull but loyal as he was stubborn, ‘Jahsen’ who had an inane ability for planning battle and was an excellent swordsman, and ‘Erek’ whose luck seemed to never leave him and always had a smart remark to make others laugh. The only reason they were below Dawan and Stepp in rank was because there were too many of them and too many captains would destroy any army, especially an army as small as this one. So Keln had put his two friends as captains and his brothers as what he referred to as under-captains. Each of his brothers had a hundred men that he had charge of during any attack.

Looking back to the soldiers passing below, Keln studied them as they passed. They were well trained and every man of them kept alert and watched in every direction. Jahsen had wanted to attack them, for every blow to Malok was a victory in his eyes but there were too many. Near two hundred men rode slowly past down there and Keln’s five hundred could take them he was sure of that, and he did not believe they would take a heavy toll in doing so. Of course there was the little fact that he and each of his brothers along with Dawan and Stepp were elementals and each of them was strong enough with even the one element they could control. Both, their father and mother were elementals and their mother had controlled two elements, fire and air. Malok had decided that it would be too dangerous to allow any elementals who could control more than one element to stay alive and had sent his army to kill their mother when they were little. Both of their parents had died fighting side by side while an uncle rode away with the children in a wagon. They had the soldiers outnumbered and he had every reason to want to deal another blow to Malok, still, for some reason, Keln had a strong feeling he should not attack this group.

Watching the last of the soldiers disappear around a bend, Keln wondered if Jahsen had the right of it. The end of Malok was all they lived for anymore. Through his thirty-nine years of life, Keln could not ever remember wanting anything else and he prayed every morning that God would keep him and his brothers alive to see the day the man died. It grated deeply with him that he should let any of Malok’s army merely wander by unscathed. Still that feeling nagged at him, warning him not to attack. He did not know why but he knew that if he attacked this group, they might not come out so good this time.

Looking back over his shoulder, Keln whispered just loud enough to be heard by his own men. “Stepp, send Helson to trail them to make sure none of them turn back.” Helson was a short wiry man in his mid forties who had spent his life living off the land. The man could track a fish through water if it was asked of him and there had been times the man had pulled a few miracles out of his sleeves that had saved their lives.

Sitting himself down, Keln stretched his legs as Dawan came and sat next to him. The bigger man was a born leader. Men just naturally seemed willing to look to him for direction and he seemed to naturally give it. Still, for some reason Keln did not understand, Dawan took Keln as the leader and had been ready to defend him as the leader to those who wanted others. “It wasn’t easy letting them go Dawan. I’d kill every last one of those Goat Eaters if I didn’t have such a bad feeling about it. I don’t know man, maybe Jahsen was right and we should’ve taken this patrol out. Maybe I am just getting tired and old and soft to boot.”

Dawan sat quietly for a moment taking it all in before answering. “Keln, I have seen you soft and I have seen you hard as that sword you carry. Living like this can make any man feel old and tired. Still, your so called gut feelings have been right too many times in the past and I for one am willing to trust you, especially since I get the same feeling.” Standing up again Dawan held his hand down to give Keln a lift to his feet. “Besides, what worries me more is why a patrol of that size is this far out from Maroth?”

Brushing some dirt from his pants, Keln stood up and stared in the direction the patrol had gone. What were they doing this far away from Maroth? Looking up at the sky he sighed, the sun was nearing the horizon and they were far from the nearest river. They would have to make a dry camp and worse, one with no fire to keep them warm. As warm as it could get in the days, the nights could become very chilly, but a fire would only act as a beacon to let that patrol know they were here. “Set the men to making camp Dawan, we will wait for Helson to return here. No fires tonight.” The other man only nodded before walking away. He already knew there would be no fires and Keln knew he knew. Still, Keln would not chance that one day his friend might have something on his mind and not think of it. He was a man like everyone else and there had been times when Dawan and Stepp have reminded him of things that should have been obvious.

His small army was a silent bustle of movement as they made camp; every man knowing a loud noise could bring a battle that Keln did not want. Stepp reached and grabbed the steel case on the back of his packhorse before hesitating then released it. His lute would be too loud tonight. As the sun set, the wind picked up and every man wrapped a blanket around him to keep warm, though Keln noticed that while some had their weapons next to them, others had a sword hilt or an axe haft rising up from inside of their blanket. Men sat huddled, eating dried bread and drinking water for their meal and not one of them grumbled. These were born warriors and had lived their lives in harder times. Many were deserters from Malok’s own army though Keln did not hold it against them. They had deserted because they did not agree with the way Malok treated his people and could not perform the immoral duties that Malok required of them anymore. There were a few who Keln saw as men who rode the line between good and evil yet even they could not face killing women and children in Malok’s name. So long as they kept their evil ways packed away while under his authority, he did not and would not hold anything against them. Many men had done things they regretted and some of those things would be enough to make ones toes curl if they knew, but what a man did in the past was no concern to Keln. So long as the man left his past where it belonged and kept an honest way about him, he would not hold that past against him.

An owl sounded and Keln winced, knowing all to well that they would have to change their signals. There were no owls in this area with no trees as far as the eye could see. Still it was good news to hear the owl. The owl told him someone was coming who was friendly and that could only be Helson. Keln did not get up though; he waited for Helson to come to him and as the wiry man walked up, Keln noticed how little noise came from his footsteps. He wished he could learn to do that. “What’d you find Helson?”

“It’s a good thing we didn’t attack them Keln.” All of the men called him Keln. There was no ‘Yes Sirs’ and ‘No Sirs’ required. “They have two elementals with them. At least I have to believe they were elementals for the way the other men all looked at them and…”

“And what Helson?” Though Keln had an idea he knew what was coming.

“And by some of the things a few of the men said sir.” That was the only time they ever used ‘Sir’, was when they knew they had done something they weren’t supposed to and were being confronted.

“So you went close enough to hear them talking did you? I told Stepp to tell you to follow them Helson. Not mingle with them. Did Stepp not tell you the same?” Keln knew the man did not mingle with them, but to get close enough to hear what the men were saying was close enough to it.

“Stepp told me to follow them sir. But in my defense he never said not to mingle.”

Keln stared at the man in silence until Helson dropped his eyes. “Where are they camped?”

“Well now that’s the funny part. I mean, well, they didn’t. I followed them ten miles and they showed no sign of breaking camp, even when it was growing dark.”

They never broke camp? They were on the move the whole time and yet Helson stayed close enough to hear the men talking? The man was far better than Keln had given him credit for.

Helson’s eyes stayed on the ground at his feet though. The man knew very well that he was caught taking a big risk. “In the future Helson, try not to take such risky chances. Go get something to eat.” But the man stayed where he was. “What is it?”

“Keln, I heard one of them talking about burning a village down. He did not say anything to say whether they had already done it or if they were heading somewhere to do it, but it might explain why they would travel at night.”

Keln rose to his feet, his hands balled tightly into fists. “They mean to catch them in their beds! Dawan, Stepp, get the men ready to move!” Catching Jahsen’s eyes looking at him, Keln winced slightly. “Okay you were right. We should have attacked them when we could have surprised them.”

Jahsen’s eyebrows rose up in surprise a moment before replying. “No, I was thinking that it was you that was right. If we had attacked them the death toll would’ve been much higher because we didn’t know they had elementals. Two of them! Now we do and if Helson can give us a good enough description of them maybe we can eliminate them with the first arrows if they are well placed.”

The small army was packed and ready to move out in short order, Keln was just settling himself in Rebel’s saddle when his brother Erek rode up next to him with one of the soldiers. “This is Sloan, he says he grew up in this area.”

Sloan only waited for Keln to nod to him before speaking. His voice was on the higher side for a man, yet it was soothing to the ears as well. Keln had an idea the man could probably sing pretty well. “Malok’s soldiers looked to be staying on the road and if they keep their pace through the night, they will reach ‘Domler’s Well’ just before sunrise. They must not be familiar with the area because there is another pass through those hills over there that would be quicker. In fact there is a place where the other pass rides along the ridge of the one the road leads through. It would be a good place to loose a few arrows and empty some of their saddles.”

“How long would it take us to make it to this ridge?”

Sloan pursed his lips a moment in thought while looking at the men around them. “It’s been a long time since I have been in the area Keln. If memory serves me right I would say maybe four hours, which should get us there an hour before the soldiers arrive.”

Keln turned and leaned over the other side of his horse ‘Rebel’ to spit, using the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. “Sloan, you take the lead. Erek get the men moving, we need to rush it. I won’t take a chance that memory might be a little fuzzy and we arrive at the same time as Malok’s men. No offense Sloan, just got to play it safe is all.”

The ride through Sloan’s trail was harder than the man had remembered and in many cases the men had to get down and lead their mounts up and down steep slides. Over five hundred men with their horses sliding on their haunches made quite the racket however quiet they tried to be and the whole way to the ridge, Keln hunched his shoulders as he lost himself in thought. The soldiers had to hear them and would probably be looking for trouble now. With two elementals alert and ready for trouble, their trap would likely blow up in their face. What to do? Do we wait until they leave the hills and try attacking up ahead? Do we attack with their original idea and hope for the best? Do we… A slight smile crossed Keln’s lips then disappeared. An idea came to him and if played just right, it just might work. Soon Keln found himself looking down off of the ridge at the trail below, his smile growing stronger.

One hundred archers were set up at the ridge, just out of sight from the trail below. The two best shots in the lot of them stood in the front, well informed of the elementals descriptions. Stepp and four of Keln’s brothers all rode ahead to another point where they could see the opposite ridge and waited. From the Archers to his brothers a man sat his horse every fifty feet, focused on the man next to him closest to the archers. Keln stood just behind Erek as his brother peeked over the ridge at the soldiers passing below. Erek had a gift of luck and Keln used that whenever he could and right now Erek needed all the luck he could get. If he peeked over the ridge at the same time an elemental looked his way, he likely would not pull his head out of sight before he died. How gruesome his death would be all depended on what element was used. Fire was Keln’s personal worst fear. He had seen some men die from being burnt alive and he could not imagine a more horrible way to go.

Erek slowly pulled his head back from the edge before whispering into the ears of the two archers the approximate location of the elementals. Once Erek was confident the archers understood, he turned to Keln and nodded. Raising his left hand, Keln watched the motion repeated quickly down the trail towards where his other brothers were waiting. Ress and Jemmel sent large spheres of fire across the lower trail that crashed and exploded into the opposite ridge, raining tendrils of flame down on the trail ahead of the soldiers. Wenn and Stepp tore chunks out of the sides of the rocky walls allowing a small avalanche of stone to crash downwards while Jahsen drew the moisture from the air, sending large droplets of rain in every direction across the patrol’s path. It was all meant as a diversion of course and as soon as it began, the two archers stepped up to the ridge.

The ruckus up ahead did its job and every eye was focused on it, especially the elementals for they could feel the elements being twisted. As the archers took aim from just behind Malok’s elementals they loosed quickly but neither had anticipated the quickness in which the soldiers would recover. Malok’s men were well trained and after only a moment of shock they began to scan the walls around them again, ready for a raid. Seeing the archers at the ridge, one soldier shouted and pointed just as the arrows loosed. The first arrow took an elemental through the center of his back, the broad head protruding from the man’s chest where his heart would be.

The other elemental was a bit quicker and twisted to look just as the other arrow was on its way. The arrow took him hard in the right shoulder knocking him out of the saddle to fall out of sight. Immediately the other archers stepped forward, loosing their arrows in a hailstorm of death that rained down on Malok’s soldiers. Man and horse scattered and screamed as the arrows pierced flesh and even armor in some cases. Spheres of flame crashed into the front ranks of the soldiers and the earth erupted under their feet. Men screamed as the moisture was drawn out of their bodies and their screams seemed to echo until they fell into a pile of dust and bone.

Keln stood with Dawan and Erek and watched the onslaught. The soldiers below had nowhere to run and nowhere to hide as death rode through their ranks. On level ground this would have turned into a small battle as the soldiers would have charged and attacked, but being trapped in the small valley below, all they could do was die. As the attack slowed and came to a halt, Keln walked to the edge to study the chaos below. Everywhere the eyes could see there was death as men and horses lay scattered among severed body parts and piles of ash. It was as one-sided a victory as Keln had ever thought possible.

Motion caught Keln’s eye and he looked over just in time to see one of the elementals looking back at him. The man lay in a nest of carnage, his face and clothes covered in blood, but all that was wrong with the man himself was an arrow shaft sticking out of his right shoulder. Lifting a hand the elemental let loose a ball of flame that thundered right for Keln and suddenly the rebel leader knew his own death was at hand.

The shock of the fire coming straight for him seemed to fasten his feet to the ground and all Keln could do was stand there and wait. He knew he should move, dive to the side, but he couldn’t and truth be told he did not think he would have had time if he tried. The flame left the elementals hand and almost instantaneously was in front of him and all he had time to do was flinch. His eyes closed tight as he turned his face to the side while raising his hands as if they could stop it, then he fell to his back screaming before realization hit him. He was not burning! Opening his eyes, he looked up to see Erek standing there, smiling.

“Fire needs air to breath you dolt!” It was all he said but it was enough. Erek had the ability to control the air and he had sucked the oxygen out of the air causing the flame to dissipate.

Scrambling to his feet, Keln looked over the ridge to find the elemental lying with his eyes open staring lifelessly at the night sky. Looking over at Erek again, Keln’s brother explained with a slight smile and a shrug. “Men need air to breathe as well.”

Brushing himself off, Keln took another look at the carnage below. Enough moaning came from the trail below to give him a little hope. “I’m going down to try and get some answers. The Hounds and Writhes should be here soon enough, so don’t let anyone else down there. Have a few archers watch my back though, just in case one of them down there is healthy enough to try skewering me.”

The Writhes Keln referred to were the servants of death. Their long thin hands were about all one could see that was not covered with a shadowy like cloak which seems to move on its own accord. A dark shadow seemed to swarm over them at all times so nobody could see any real details, but it was said that if a man sees their eyes its because he is already dead. When someone is about to die, a Writhe will show up to take the soul to the after life. The Writhe Hounds were large dogs that served two purposes. One was to lead the Writhes to the dying and the other was to find the souls of those who were already dead and drag them back to the Writhes. Some believed it was only the souls that would perish in darkness that was taken while others believed the writhes did the handiwork of both darkness and light. Keln tended to believe in the former idea though. He could not believe that someone who led a good life would be dragged to the heavens by something like a writhe and he knew very well that there had been times that people had died and no writhe or writhe hound ever showed up. Though in truth that seemed to be a rare thing.

Erek swallowed hard at the thought of the Writhes coming and most of the men who had heard began to wet their lips. Any sane man would stay as far away from them as possible. If a Writhe felt you were trying to interfere, it would simply take your soul and let your corpse fall to the ground to die on its own. “You likely won’t find any answers you want Keln. Let’s just get away from here. The Writhes will be gone in a few hours and there still might be a few alive then.”
From the distance came an eerie howl and Keln stared that way for a moment. “You know I can’t do that Erek. I can’t take a chance someone who can give me an answer will die while we wait for the Writhes to leave.”

“Well just keep in mind. That sword of yours doesn’t make you invincible; it only gives you a fighting chance.”

Keln subconsciously reached down and touched the hilt of the Writhe Sword at his hip. At least that is what he called it. The blade as black as ash, it had a long two handed hilt wrapped in black leather and red string. The slender blade had a curvy writing etched into it that reached from hilt to tip, but to this day Keln had never learned what the writing said or ever found anyone who knew the language and in truth it didn’t matter. Only a handful of Writhe Swords existed and the old man who gave this one to him said all but one other was hidden. The most fascinating thing about the writhe sword was that it was the only weapon that could kill a Writhe. “Just watch my back will you?”

Keln was just turning to make his way down to the road below them when one of the archers swallowed audibly and mumbled something about salvation. Noticing all of the archers had their eyes in the sky to the south, he turned to watch a Writhe gliding eerily towards the valley below. Everyone stood stock-still, their eyes focused on the writhe as it loomed above the hundreds of dead men. It was unexpected for a Writhe to be there so quickly with no hound to guide it and Erek whispered something about how ugly they were.

Suddenly the writhe’s head turned bringing its focus to those on the ridge. Mouth opening wide it screeched, an ear piercing shrill sound and charged them. The attack was unexpected considering they were nowhere near in its way and every man shouted at the sight of it coming towards them with its long bony fingers extended forward as if intending to rip their souls out.

One archer, who Keln recognized as Leemik, was closest to the edge and began to back away then tripped. Falling hard to his back, the man hardly had a chance to begin screaming before the writhe latched onto him, one of its hands reaching into the man’s chest to take his soul.

Dropping the now empty body to the ground the writhe turned and charged at another man, its ear-piercing screech starting up again. Drawing his sword, Keln stepped in front of it and almost froze in terror as he looked into its eyes. Using the form known as ‘Flight of the Bat’ the sword slashed up then down again in a tight arc and the screeching faded as the shadowy figure of the writhe dissipated.

“What in the blazes was that all about?” His right hand pressed to his chest, Erek nearly shouted the question. “As much as those things scare me, I have watched them feed many times and I’ve never even heard of one going out of its way to attack the living.” After a slight hesitation, Erek spoke a question in a softer voice. “You think maybe it heard me call it ugly?”

Keln stood in silence, staring at the sky where it had come from. Why had it attacked like that? With so many of the dead and so many still dying, it could have feasted on souls to take to the afterlife. Why would it skip those to attack the living? His eyes dropped to the dead below again. Hundreds of men were dead and many others were still moaning. With so many, there would be a lot of writhes coming. What if they attack us as well? What if they did? “Erek, move the men out. Send word to the rest of the men that we are heading southwest, as fast as we can move. We don’t want to be near here if the other writhes are going to attack as well.”

The thought of it put enough fear in the heads of the others that Erek never had to give any orders before they were already moving out and shouting down the line of men that extended down the trail. There was no fear of going southwest when the writhe had come from the south. Writhes came from the after life and could appear from any direction. Heading straight in the direction of where one came from would be no safer or dangerous as any other direction. The important thing was to get away from where the writhes and death hounds would be going. As the group moved out, the first of the hounds began to appear in the sky and head in different directions chasing after souls that had run away. Knowing the writhes would be coming soon after; the party kicked their horses into a gallop.

Continue to ..... Maroz 6 - New Found Powers