Back | Next
Contents

Chapter 20

Jagdish was uneasy. This errand had already taken him away from his duties at the border for longer than he liked. He had left solid officers in charge of the defenses, but they weren’t him. A warrior shouldn’t let his pride dictate his actions, yet if he let this level of offense pass, he wouldn’t be much of a warrior at all. Troubling him also were thoughts of his daughter, currently traveling toward the relative safety of Vadal City. Pari had her maid and guards and would surely be excited to go on such a journey. She’d probably miss him, but she was brave like her mother.

Being away from family was a warrior’s lot in life.

The northern woods were thick, overgrown with moss, and teeming with game. The fact they saw no hunters told him that Joshi’s assessment was accurate. The workers of Vadal weren’t hungry enough to hunt someplace they thought to be haunted.

Like all Law-fearing men, Jagdish had no use for such myths, but if things went bad with the Inquisitors, he’d happily leave a few more dead bodies to haunt the place. Except he’d have preferred to tend to that sort of affair in front of loyal warriors only and without outside witnesses. Rada and Karno had complicated his life once again.

As their horses plodded down the uneven trail, Jagdish turned back to check on his guests. He was honor bound to help Rada because she’d saved his life—and he genuinely liked the curious woman—but her presence now was unfortunate. It was one thing to have a member of the first poking her nose into disreputable warrior business; it was another to have her accompanied by an unbending servant of the Law.

Karno was the second Protector he’d ever dealt with. The first had been a difficult man to get to know, but in comparison this one was an absolute cipher. Karno made Ashok seem talkative and friendly. If there were ever any gregarious sorts obligated to that particular Order, they must have beaten it out of those children in their cold mountain fort.

Rada was busy identifying all the butterflies based on illustrations she’d seen in a book, but Karno caught Jagdish watching and gave him a small nod. Their agreement would hold. The two of them were to stay back out of sight when the time came. Or at least that’s how Jagdish took it, since the man of few words managed to convey a great deal with very little.

The Protector’s presence simply meant that Jagdish would have to be more careful than he was normally inclined to be, but he was still in the right here. The Inquisition was frightening, especially to a regular soldier, except Jagdish had to remind himself that he was no longer a regular soldier. He was a man of rank and status now, recipient of Vadal’s highest award for valor, and the wronged party. Inquisitors weren’t above the Law and couldn’t go about ruining a great house’s defenses with impunity. This confrontation was a necessity. Jagdish knew that he was sometimes hasty in his decisions, but not on this one. Declaring offense was a calculated move, because how else could he demand respect from his soldiers if he let the willful endangerment of their home go unanswered? How could he expect his men to fight the wolves of Sarnobat if their leader let Inquisitors stomp all over his dignity?

Also, with two angry phonthos, their offense became even more undeniable. Insulting him and Gotama was like unto insulting all the army of Great House Vadal, and by extension, their Thakoor himself. Harta Vadal may have despised him and was surely planning on putting the blame for their impending illegal war on Jagdish’s head—only that also meant he needed to keep Jagdish around until then. Surely Harta would back his phonthos in their disagreement against these Inquisitors.

Jagdish had never fancied himself a political man, but he was learning it wasn’t that different from regular war…just more dishonest.

If the Inquisition leader was prideful, then they would settle this affair the proper way, and either apologize, or take personal offense and duel. If he was unreasonable and tried to force a greater confrontation, Gotama’s men would happily forsake their obligation to the hated Capitol Order after one word from their beloved commander, leaving the Inquisitors terribly outnumbered, and then Jagdish would challenge whichever idiot had left his house unprotected to a duel. Sure, he’d never fought a witch hunter before, but he’d battled wizards and even Ashok Vadal. Compared to those, what was some mask-wearing fop?

The trail was so poor that they often had to dismount and lead their horses. Roots waited to trip them. Parts of the trail had been washed out by the rains. Havildar Mohan and Nayak Joshi were in the lead, a mere twenty yards ahead, but the path curved back and forth so much, that they were often much closer, though the underbrush was so thick that Jagdish could only catch glimpses of them through it.

“Stay alert, boys,” Gotama warned. “This is tiger country.”

“Natural and unnatural both,” Karno muttered.

When the old man turned back in his saddle toward the Protector to inquire what he meant by that cryptic warning, Rada supplied, “Witch hunters can turn into tigers.”

“Ah, come now, my lady. That’s just stories to frighten Law breakers.”

“On the contrary, it is one of their wizardly abilities. I’ve seen them do it with my own eyes.”

Jagdish scowled, as he’d not thought about having his opponent shape-shift into a tiger. That would certainly complicate a duel. “You seem unconvinced by her words, Gotama, but I know Ashok fought a wizard who assumed the form of a giant snake once, and another who turned into a swarm of insects. I myself have seen men transform into giant birds to flee the battlefield.”

“Hmmm…Then I accept your tale as true, Lady Rada, and please forgive my incredulous nature, for I am but a poor country soldier, unaccustomed to the wily tricks of wizards.”

As they continued their journey deeper into the woods, Jagdish’s unease grew, and not just because of any potential duel. The lush forests of Vadal were always vibrant with the sounds of life. When they’d started down this trail they had seen a multitude of birds and animals, but as the hours passed, an unnatural stillness had fallen over the place.

Something tugged at the back of his mind. Not fear, as it was a deeper instinct that was troubling him. Their horses had grown skittish, and hesitant to continue onward. Jagdish could tell the men were feeling it too, their eyes flickering back and forth, nervous, and not just because of Gotama’s tales of hunting tigers in terrain like this. The closer they got to catching up with the stolen paltans, the worse that skin-crawling sensation became.

The last time Jagdish had felt a sensation like this had been on the far end of the continent, in the awful swamps of the Bahdjangal…where the Sons had fought a demon. That was impossible, though, as there were no rivers deep enough to hide a demon near here, and they were still many days from from the coast.

When they stopped to let the horses rest and graze, Jagdish watched the tiny stream they drank from suspiciously, as if waiting for a mighty demon to leap from its hiding place in less than a foot of water.

Karno joined him at the edge of the water and spoke quietly. “I said we would hold back when you confronted the Inquisition.”

“Do you wish to change that plan?”

“I do.” The Protector must have been sensing the danger as well. “I feel an evil ahead.”

“If you want to take Rada and turn around, none here would think less of you.” Not that a man like Karno cared about the opinions of mere warriors, but Jagdish felt it had to be said anyway. “The rest of us must continue.”

“As do we.”

“Why? Why are you even here, really?”

The Protector glanced over to where his charge was carefully checking her horse’s hooves, laboring in a very un-first-caste-like manner. “Rada believes her presence will be required.”

“For what?”

Karno shrugged.

“That’s helpful. Protectors take orders from librarians now, do they?”

“No…But I trust her.”

That was rather surprising. “I’d wager the list of people you trust isn’t a long one.”

“It was short even before most of those on it died.” Karno continued studying Rada. “She is not like most of our caste. Rada is without guile. She believes her presence will be needed to prevent a great harm, so I believe her.”

Jagdish sighed. Rada preventing harm was the only reason he was alive and with this rank. “Maybe librarians are good luck. Alright, you’ll do whatever you will regardless of what I say on the matter, but when it comes time to confront the masks, I won’t have time to be stumbling over the finer points of the Law. Understand?”

“I do, warrior. Except it is not the stink of witch hunter that raises the hairs on the back of my neck today.”

The Protector’s words chilled him, for that Order dealt with the unnatural things that dwelled in the darkest corners of the continent. “There’s something out here, alright, and it’s violating more than just the Law. No wonder the locals say this place is cursed.”

“The pall we feel is not always this strong here. For if it were, they would have summoned my Order to investigate.”

“Lucky us, there’s one of you here now.” Then Jagdish raised his voice so all would hear. “Break is over, boys. That’s enough lollygagging. Ready up. Stay sharp. Let’s go fetch our brothers and have a few words with the masks about their unrighteous ways.”

As they got closer to the end of the trail, an oppressive gloom fell over the group. It was a struggle to keep their horses from bolting. Warriors who were accustomed to showing their bravery were clearly having a difficult time maintaining their composure. The temperature was pleasant in the shade of the trees, yet Jagdish was sweating like he’d been sparring for hours.

“Easy, lads,” Gotama urged his men. “These Inquisitors must be carrying a great deal of demon magic upon them to cause such a malignant spell over this place.”

“I carried tons of the stuff all the way from the mouth of the Nansakar to Vadal. This isn’t demon bones causing this.” Jagdish glanced back toward Rada, to find that she was pale and nervously clutching her satchel so tight that her knuckles were making the leather audibly creak. “This is something different.”

According to Joshi’s knowledge of the area, they should be nearing the ruins. The obligated warriors should have left lookouts, and even if they had been well hidden—which would be easy in a forest so thick—surely they would have identified themselves when they saw their phontho.

“Gotama, are your missing risalders smart?”

“Smart enough they would’ve posted guards along the only way in. Their lack is troubling…I’m thinking your offense can wait, Jagdish. Let’s get my men and go home.”

Mohan called out a warning. They had reached the end of the trail.

As they caught up with the point riders, Joshi’s and Mohan’s mounts were stomping nervously, not wanting to get any closer. There was a clearing ahead, man-made from the look of all the stumps. Those trees been cut down years ago to build the few crumbling shelters that were visible, and the rest had probably been used for firewood. This was where the workers had lived while they were looting the ruins.

There was no sign of life.

Jagdish’s horse balked and he had to fight to control him. These were Vadal war horses. They weren’t Zarger’s massive beasts, but they were bred to handle stress of combat and the smell of carnage. They weren’t easily spooked.

“Gotama, they’re your men. How do you want to proceed?” Jagdish asked.

“The only way I know how. Directly.” Gotama stood in his stirrups and shouted. “I am Phontho Gotama of the Mukesh Garrison! I have come to reclaim my seventh and tenth paltans from their illegal obligation. Show yourselves, Inquisitors!” Despite the old man still possessing a proper commander’s bellow, and the sound echoing through the woods, no answer came. “Oceans. Where is everybody?”

They couldn’t explore on horses near to panic. “Half of us will stay here, while the other half checks it out.” Then Jagdish dismounted so there would be no question which group he belonged in. He wasn’t the sort of phontho who sent men into danger while he stayed safe in the back.

Apparently neither was Gotama, as he quickly joined Jagdish on foot, a fact that surely distressed all of their bodyguards to no end. “Abhir, Tarsh, you’d better not let my horse run off. I’m not going to march home on my bad knee.”

Jagdish signaled for two of his to remain as well, before Karno got off his horse, took up his war hammer, and told Rada, “Stay here.”

She gave him a worried nod, still clinging to that leather satchel as if her life depended on it.

They started across the clearing, wary. To Jagdish, it felt like they were walking into an ambush. “Don’t lose sight of the men next to you.”

The ground was churned up near where the paltans had watered the animals at a nearby stream. The dirt was dry and soft, and each step kicked up just a bit of dust. There were fresh tracks everywhere—horseshoes, standard Vadal-issued boots…and something else. Jagdish tried to understand what could have made the strange pattern. They looked like a path of symmetrical holes, like when he’d seen workers planting seeds in a line with one of their new-fangled tools, only there were two parallel lines, and these holes were staggered, with an empty space between them wide as his palm.

“I’ve found blood.” Zaheer squatted down, touched the drying mess, then examined his fingertips. “It’s soaked into the dirt but it’s only a few hours old.”

Jagdish drew his sword, and the rest followed his example. As they continued moving toward the center of the clearing, they spotted more blood, both pooled on the ground and splattered on the stumps. Blood always told a story. Every man here was a seasoned combatant, so they recognized the spray of a severed artery, or the meandering trail of a man who’d just had his throat cut before it turned into a puddle where he had finally fallen and bled out.

None spoke, but they were all thinking the same thing: There had clearly been a battle here, but there were no bodies. Where were the severed limbs? The dropped weapons? The scraps of cloth or broken bits of armor?

The tracks had changed. There were far more of the strange lines of small holes, and worse, bloody drag marks. And every single one of those appeared to be going in the same unerring direction to the back of the clearing.

Toward the ruins.

“Wait here,” Jagdish ordered, forgetting in the moment that he was the leader and the men at his side were supposed to be guarding him, not the other way around. He began creeping forward alone, only to be joined—unsurprisingly—by Protector Karno. The two of them followed the many drag trails; it was clear from the clawing finger marks in the dirt that some of those being carried along had still been alive at the time.

“There’s blood, but no flies drink it,” Karno whispered.

“What does that mean?”

“It is unknown. I have not seen this before.”

It was a Protector’s duty to understand such things. What manner of evil would be a mystery to the likes of that imposing supernatural Order?

As Joshi had said, the ruins were small: just a pile of stones that might have ones been a small pyramid, barely ten feet tall. Nothing compared to some of the vast ancient structures inside and around Vadal City. It was clear that the stones had been intricately carved once before the Inquisition had come along and chiseled away anything that might have featured illegal religious icons.

What had been carved upon those walls so long ago? Perhaps it had been a warning sign?

Over the years many shallow holes had been dug around the pyramid by treasure hunters. It was clear those were old because they were now overgrown with moss and weeds. However, there was one pit, far larger and deeper than the others, and around it were vast piles of freshly turned dirt. The new excavation also differed from the others in one other profoundly disturbing way: all the drag trails disappeared into it.

Jagdish had been a fine border scout, stealthy as a fox. Despite his massive size, Karno proved to be Jagdish’s equal, and the two of them made almost no sound while they approached the pit. As they crept up to the edge, Jagdish heard a noise coming from inside the hole that was unlike anything he had ever heard before. There was a rending, tearing, cracking, like a dog going at a bone, but not one bone and set of jaws, but hundreds, and combined, it made a noise that reminded him of bees swarming.

Slowly, uneasily, Jagdish lowered himself into the soft dirt and crawled forward, so as to not silhouette himself against the sky and display himself to whatever was in the hole making that awful noise. Once at the edge he peered into the pit…and then tried to comprehend the sight below.

They had found Gotama’s seventh and tenth paltans, as well as many workers and Inquisitors and all their horses, though it was difficult to tell what was what, with all the bodies being in so very many pieces.

The pile was covered in a swarm of scurrying insects. Thousands and thousands of them, except each one was easily the size of his hand and dark as demon hide…and then Jagdish’s growing terror was interrupted by the realization that these were not mere insects. They were demons. Or at least somehow related to those awful soldiers of hell, sleek and black, with four spidery limbs that each ended in a wicked point.

There was no way so many bodies could fit into a pit this size, but the demonic insects were rendering them down, rapidly and efficiently, into their component bits, and then spearing and carrying the chunks down a central hole, from which came a strange pulsing light. It was almost as if they were feeding fuel into some manner of demonic furnace buried there.

Jagdish wasn’t going mad or suffering from delusions, because Karno was clearly witnessing the same unspeakable evil. Even the unflappable Protector recoiled in disgust.

Somehow the demons sensed them. The buzzing stopped. A thousand featureless heads turned their way.

“Run.”

Jagdish and Karno sprinted across the clearing.

His men saw their leader’s fear, and lifted their blades, ready to fight the unseen enemy.

There would be no stopping this enemy with blades. The seventh and tenth had tried that and ended up in the hole, being fed piece by piece into a demon light. “Get to the horses! Retreat down the trail! Go! Go!”

The demonic scourge erupted from the pit behind them.

Jagdish turned back just long enough to see a mass of tiny demons gushing forth like spilled oil. Thousands of sharp feet piercing the dirt made a sound like the raindrops of a thunderstorm as they scurried after the fleeing warriors, nearly as fast as a man could run. He had to turn around to keep from tripping. Falling meant dying. Those legs had been slicing bits off of dead men easy as a butcher carving a hog.

Despite his size, Karno easily outran Jagdish. The Protector leapt over a fallen log, then crouched on the other side and waited for Jagdish to pass. With a roar he hoisted the heavy log chest high and hurled it toward the monsters. As it bounced and tumbled through them, the impact sent some of the tiny demons flying away, but it crushed many…that popped right back up out of the soft dirt, seemingly unharmed, to resume the chase.

Jagdish caught up to the others, but unfortunately they weren’t yet running, and then Jagdish realized why. The ground throughout the clearing was shifting. There had been more demons burrowed into the dirt and they were beginning to stir.

“What manner of evil is this?” Gotama thrust his sword hard into a squirming patch. When he lifted the blade there was a creature impaled on the end, about the size of a kitten, but with a black triangular body and four barbed limbs. Milky blood ran down the steel as the thing thrashed. Gotama flicked it away in disgust.

Hundreds more of the tiny demons erupted from the ground all around them. The warriors were ready to fight, but they hadn’t seen the black mass of evil that had been vomited up from the pit, and it was closing on them fast.

“If we fight here we die! Get to the horses!” Jagdish shouted and thankfully Gotama wasn’t too proud to heed the words of a younger warrior. “Retreat!”

As they ran, all the demons went after them.

Thankfully, unlike many phonthos, Gotama had not gone to laziness and fat, so could still run like a proper soldier. “Where are my boys?”

“Dead,” Karno stated.

The giant horde of demons was gaining on them. “As we will be if we stop!” Jagdish urged.

And sure enough, because fate was a fickle whore who delighted in tormenting warriors, a few yards later one of Gotama’s men tripped over a root and crashed face-first into the dirt. Jagdish cursed himself for giving that evil bitch ideas as he spun around and went back for the fallen man.

Only the monsters surged forward, engulfing the warrior even as he sprang to his feet. They clambered over his boots and climbed up his legs, every movement cutting like razors. He cried out and fell to his knees, one hand reaching for Jagdish, but then bugs were swarming up his back and hips and he was stabbed dozens of times, with legs striking faster than Jagdish could blink. The vile things scurried onto his head, and crawled down his extended arm, slicing all the way. And then the warrior was just covered.

The demon pile sank to the ground, the screams beneath muffled. By the time Jagdish realized there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to help, the lump with the dying warrior inside was already heading back toward the pit.

That killing had slowed the horde only for the briefest instant, before the rest were back after them.

Their horses were panicking, crying and rearing, and the men they’d left behind were doing their best to control them. This was why warriors never tried to fight real demons on horseback! Animals simply couldn’t handle the presence of hell’s minions.

“Where’s Vithu?” one of Gotama’s men asked, looking around desperately for his missing friend.

“Gone. Everyone down the trail, fast as you can.”

“Is this what you came for?” Karno asked Rada.

The librarian was fighting her bucking horse, but she kept her head enough to answer, “It’s not said anything yet!”

“Then go.” Karno grabbed her horse by the bridle, forced the entire animal in the correct direction, and smacked it hard on the rump. The horse sped off, with Rada holding on for dear life.

“What’s not said—” Then Jagdish flinched as something hit him in the head. A big piece of bark had bounced off his turban and was lying at his feet. He looked up to see there were demons above them, high in the branches of the trees. “Above us!”

Except his warning was too late, and men and horses screamed as the bugs landed on them and immediately hooked their deadly limbs into flesh. They ripped through skin and muscle like a worker’s saw.

Jagdish had seen a great many men die in his life, but never like this.

“Someone must survive to warn the great house!” Gotama shouted as he climbed onto his mount. “Stop for nothing!”

The great wave of bugs was nearly upon them, so thick in number they were turning the clearing black. The way out was too narrow. The demon tide too fast. They weren’t all going to make it. Jagdish drew his sword and began slashing through the ropes their packhorses were fighting against. They tore free and began to run desperately around the edges of the clearing, searching for a way out. Whichever direction a living thing moved a line of demons followed. Man or animal, the demons didn’t seem to care. All Jagdish could do was hope that distraction would be enough to spare the rest of them, as he caught his horse and vaulted into the saddle.

“Protect the phontho!” Havildar Mohan shouted.

“To the ocean with that!” Jagdish shouted. “Ride for your lives!”

The great wave broke around some of the loose horses. They snorted and kicked and Jagdish couldn’t bear to watch them die. Joshi yelped in surprise as his horse reared back, demons clambering up her flanks. Luckily Zaheer rode alongside just in time for the younger bodyguard to grab onto his brother’s arm and leap free. Joshi’s horse fell backward, monsters clinging to its belly like viscious ticks, and then she was gone into the swarming demons as two of Jagdish’s bodyguards rode away.

The rest of the warriors had reached the trail, but Jagdish saw Karno was still on foot, hammer in hand. “What are you doing? Ride, you fool!”

Most of the swarm was distracted ripping apart Joshi’s steed, but one of the little demons lurched toward Karno. A log didn’t flatten them, but the concentrated force of a war hammer smashed the thing flat, splattering white blood everywhere. “I will bring up the rear.”

Oceans! Every Protector is a madman!

Karno smashed another bug, and then sprinted after Jagdish, and somehow he kept up with the horses. Protectors might all be brave lunatics, but they were also the greatest athletes in the world, empowered by whatever secret rites it was their Order bestowed on them.

It was a mad rush through the forest. Branches tore at their faces. Jagdish could barely see Mohan just ahead of him through all the dust that had been kicked up. The trail was narrow and rugged, and every time Jagdish looked back, the demonic horde was still in pursuit, a churning mass of black razors. Karno would turn, kill a few more, then flee, doing this over and over until Jagdish lost track of him through the trees.

There was a crash ahead. One of the horses had tripped, going end over end in a cloud of dust. It was a brutal tangle of broken legs. Luckily the rider wasn’t crushed beneath but was hurled hard into the grass instead. The other warriors were too close behind and going too fast to stop and help.

The downed rider was Rada.

“Whoa!” Jagdish pulled hard on his reins, fighting a mount with the smell of blood in her nostrils and fear in her heart, but he wasn’t about to let his honored houseguest get killed.

“I’ll get her, Phonto!” Mohan shouted. “You must escape!”

His bodyguards had an obligation to fulfill, but so did Jagdish, and besides, he was closer. “Rada, get up! Give me your hand!” She was shaken and bleeding from a cut on her face, but the librarian was made of sterner stuff than she looked, because she struggled to her feet and stumbled toward him. Jagdish caught Rada by the wrist and swung her up behind him on the saddle. “I’ve got her!” His steed needed no urging and sprang forward.

They’d made it only a few feet before Rada let go of him and desperately began grasping at her clothing. At first Jagdish thought she was checking for injuries or was panicking because she thought there was a demonic bug clinging to her garments, but then she shouted in his ear, “The mirror! I’ve lost the mirror!”

“What?” When he looked back over his shoulder he saw Rada’s injured horse was thrashing about because it already had half a dozen demons clinging to it.

Karno was running along behind them. “I’ll get it.” And he turned back.

The Protector went in swinging, flinging demons in every direction. The horse’s rolling and kicking seemed to be attracting most of their attention, but several of the tiny creatures flung themselves at Karno. He batted some out of the air, but others made it through, and Karno grimaced as he was stabbed. Karno stomped them beneath his boots, he killed more with his hammer, he ripped a bloody one from his side and then squeezed it with his bare hand until it popped, but they kept coming. When Rada’s horse stopped fighting, more of the creatures turned their attention upon the Protector. Despite that, he reached Rada’s satchel and snatched it up by the broken strap.

“Run, Karno!” Rada screamed.

The Protector did, but the demons were all around him. He wasn’t going to make it.

“Hang on.” Jagdish’s instinct was to wheel about and try to rescue Karno, but suddenly Havildar Mohan cut them off.

As he rode past, the bodyguard gave Jagdish a look as if to say Let me do my damned duty for once, Phonto. Then Mohan went straight toward Karno, screaming their battle cry, “For Vadal!”

He made it most of the way there before his horse realized it was about to run into a field of knives and recoiled in fear. Mohan was thrown from the saddle, but got up fast, sword appearing in hand.

There was nothing Jagdish could attempt without endangering Rada, and he was far too honor bound to do that. “Saltwater.”

Mohan laid into them, cutting a swath through the creatures, but then they were on him, ripping and tearing. Bleeding profusely, he somehow managed to reach Karno and accurately slash a pair of demons from the Protector’s back. For a moment, both men disappeared through the haze of dust and demons.

But then Karno crashed through.

He was moving faster than any man Jagdish had ever seen. Karno caught up to Mohan’s running horse, took hold and leapt into the saddle. The Protector still had demons latched onto his arms and back and he yanked the things off and tossed them aside in a bloody spray.

Mohan was gone. They rode like mad.

When they had a small lead, Jagdish slowed enough for Karno to get alongside. The Protector was covered in lacerations and punctures of unknown depth. He handed back Rada’s satchel, then told Jagdish, “Take the reins if I pass out.”

Jagdish knew enough about the Protector’s ways to realize their magic could only heighten one physical ability at a time. He’d seen Ashok survive the unsurvivable, climb the unclimbable, hear the unhearable, see impossible distances, and perform inhuman feats of strength, but he had never seen Ashok do more than one of those at once. It appeared Karno was the same and currently needed to concentrate on not bleeding to death.

They continued down the twisting path, faster than the demons, but those things seemed to be tireless in their pursuit, while their horses were laboring and lathered in sweat. Worse, the trail had many switchbacks, while the demons moved in a straight line, seemingly unburdened by passing through the thick brush.

“They’re ahead of us!” a warrior cried. A horse screamed and branches broke as someone collided with a tree.

Riders were coming back up the trail, Gotama among them. “There’s too many. We’re cut off.”

Either the demons possessed some form of intelligence to circle ahead of them, or there were just so damned many of them they could fill the entire forest. The group milled around as the enemy closed in. It was distressing to see they’d lost half their number and with trees close on all sides this was an awful place to make a stand. Jagdish spotted a jutting pile of rocks in the distance. “Abandon the horses. We’ll take that high ground.”

“It’s more defensible than this,” Gotama agreed.

Jagdish dismounted, then helped Rada down. It was clear that fall had bashed her head, but hopefully the librarian wasn’t too dizzy to run.

Karno seemed to snap out of a trance, and pronounced, “Good enough.” Then he went to Rada’s side. “I’ll see to her.” And by that Jagdish assumed that he meant he’d bless her with a quick and painless death rather than let her be carried back to that pit of light and flesh.

“Good luck,” Jagdish told his horse in farewell, and then fled through the trees.

The demons were right behind them. Joshi and Zaheer placed themselves close to Jagdish, determined to die as righteous bodyguards should. The undergrowth tangled with flowering vines waiting to trip them. Fine Vadal blades were dishonored and used like machetes.

A warrior bellowed as a demon dropped onto his face. Gotama’s reaction swing was so fast that the bug didn’t even have time to strike with its legs, and so clean that he didn’t so much as nick his own man’s skin. Perhaps it was good that Jagdish had not dueled the old-timer after all!

The brush thinned as they entered a rocky field. The boulder pile Jagdish had spied wasn’t much, but some high ground was better than nothing. “Get to the top.” He turned back to check, only to discover they were down another man. He’d either got turned around in the woods and separated from the group, or the demons had taken him down so quickly that he’d died before he could scream. “Climb, damn it! Climb!”

The rocks were slick with moss, but there were no trees above them, so the demons could only attack from below rather than fall on them. They scrambled up the rocks, constantly having to pause and hack the fastest demons that were slashing at their heels. The pile only rose twenty feet above the field, but it still felt like climbing a mountain.

The summit was only a few yards across, barely big enough to fit them all.

One of Gotama’s men slipped down a boulder, and before he could right himself, a demon attached itself to his leg. In a flash it burrowed deep into his thigh. Zaheer caught that screaming warrior by the arm and dragged him over the top. Karno grabbed the demon, tore it free, and hurled it against the rocks so hard that it splattered everywhere.

Jagdish grimaced when he saw the ghastly wound, muscle torn free clear to the bone. “Pick a spot and hold the line,” he ordered as he took off his sash and tossed it at Rada. “Librarian, use this to tie off his leg, just above the wound, hard as you can, then stuff the rest in the hole.”

She caught the sash, seemingly unsure at first, but then went to work trying her best to save the crippled warrior.

The green and gray of the boulder field was slowly turning black from all the churning bodies.

Gotama glanced his way. “Any ideas, Jagdish Demon Slayer?”

Of course he didn’t have any ideas. They were surrounded and doomed, but Jagdish would never say that in front of his men. “Fight until we win.”

“That’s the spirit. Let’s show these demon scum what Vadal men are made of!”


Back | Next
Framed