Against the Tide

Chapter Thirty-five

“Oh… shit,” Conner said as the last portal was tipped over. He could see figures swarming over the south wall, where the orcs, attacked from in front and behind, were running around uselessly. Speaking of useless, the last of the main force was just about through the north gate and they were being followed by a line of legionnaires. He could picture what was going to happen in his mind’s eye. They’d take the gate, shut it, and then the New Destiny force would be trapped on the outside, caught between two legions.

“Indirect approach,” Rachel said. “Strike where your enemy is vulnerable. Gotta hand it to Daddy. If you don’t, he’ll take it anyway.”

“Right,” Conner said, his face firming. “We’re out of here.”

“What?” General Kossin snapped. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Conner said. “You can handle the rest. You’ve still got more forces than the legionnaires. But Miss Ghorbani and I are out of here. Roc. Bring her.”

Rachel stumbled forward at a hard shove and looked over her shoulder at the elf-thing.

“I’m going, I’m going,” she muttered, following Conner down the stairs. His tent was in the northeast quadrant, which was still free of UFS forces. She looked around, desperately, but he was careful to avoid the Blood Lords headed for the gate. He had his back to her but she could see the glitter of a personal protection field. She touched her chest and grimaced, looking to the west where she knew safety lay. Only a few meters. Only a few.

“Don’t,” Roc growled, touching her in the back. “Go.”

She looked down one of the streets of tents and saw a familiar figure trotting to the north.

“HERZER!”

For the next step, Herzer had to see. He’d headed for the north gate, which he could see Blood Lords fighting for. There weren’t many defenders and as he watched the gates started to swing shut. From up on the command tower he’d be able to see how the rest of the battle was going. Down here it was total chaos, but a chaos that Colonel Heiskanen could handle, not to mention General Magalong. But what happened next would be the key.

He was about sixty yards from the gate when he heard his name shouted to the right.

“Rachel?”

“Great,” Conner said, shaking his head. “The heroic rescuer. Roc. Take him.” Conner waved to drop his personal protection field and grabbed Rachel by the wrist. “Come on, bitch.”

“Herzer!” Rachel shouted, digging at the steellike vise around her wrist. “Elf, Herzer! ELF!”

The… thing charging him was a demon and it was fast. He raised his shield to block the first lightning blow and the sword of the thing nearly clove it in half. He darted in, thinking that with that much extension it would be off-balance but the blow that hit him came out of nowhere, knocking him to his knees. He rolled backwards and up, managing to get his prosthetic up and catch the sword in it with a shock that ran down his arm and through his whole body. But the hand wasn’t steel, it was adamantine, and it gripped the sword for a moment, binding it, as the thing yanked at it, nearly yanking him off his feet. He tried to dodge under the sword and get his own weapon in play but the thing had far too much length of arm for that to work. Finally it got its weapon free and he backed away, watching Rachel being dragged towards a tent, helpless to save her as he’d been helpless to save her mother.

The thing looked at him for a moment, cocking its head to the side and then raised the sword for a blow he knew he could neither dodge nor block.

“Not so,” Bast said, striking from the thing’s unprotected side.

The monster moved faster than the eye could see, but the blow from the light saber still opened up a gash on its ribs, cutting through the mail that armored it like tinfoil. The thing leapt backward again, considering its new foe.

“Go to Rachel,” Bast said. “This one is mine.”

Herzer didn’t even nod, just started running.

“Quit struggling, bitch!” Conner shouted, dragging Rachel closer and grabbing her by the hair, then slapping her on the side of the head.

Rachel saw stars for a moment and then shook her head, trying to clear it. Suddenly, Conner had her in a chokehold and a knife had appeared in his hand.

“Take one step closer and she dies.”

Herzer tossed the sword in the air, weighing his chances. The man was much larger than Rachel and although he was trying to use her as a shield there was a fair amount in the open. And Herzer was pretty good at throwing a sword. Pretty good.

“Don’t try it,” the man said. “You’re not that good. I know.”

“You’re… Conner,” Herzer said, quietly. Rachel’s face was frightened but set, her hands clasped to her breast.

“Yes, and that means you know I won’t hesitate to kill her,” Conner replied. “Take one step closer and she dies right in front of your eyes.”

“Take one step back and I’ll take the chance,” Herzer said. “I won’t have her disappear.”

“We’re both going to disappear,” Conner laughed. “I can port out at any time.”

“If you could teleport, you would have already,” Herzer replied, pointedly not watching Rachel. “Leave her and you can go free.”

“No chance,” Conner said, stepping back and dragging at Rachel.

“Conner,” Herzer said, conversationally. “There’s something you really need to know.”

“What?” Conner said, suspiciously.

“I’m not the one you should be afraid of,” Herzer said, gesturing with the sword over Conner’s shoulder.

“Don’t give me that,” Conner said, taking a step back. “That’s the oldest trick in the…”

Rachel felt herself thrown forward as sixty kilos of enraged housecat landed on the agent’s back. Conner let out a scream and stabbed backwards with his knife but Rachel was nearly as fast. The scalpel came out and stabbed downward with the precision of a wasp killing a spider. It withdrew from his leg in a fountain of arterial blood.

“That was your femoral artery,” she said in a light tone. “And femoral nerve, which is why you’re experiencing so much pain at the moment.” She stepped forward and looked at the staggering agent for a moment, and then drove the scalpel into his stomach and upward.

“That will have gotten your liver along with various blood vessels,” she added, conversationally, as the agent finally fell to his knees and then face, the cat continuing to rake his back with hind-claws. Azure finally shifted the grip of his jaws and closed them on the agent’s neck with a snap of something breaking.

“That would have been your trachea,” Rachel added calmly. “So in my professional medical opinion, you’re going to die of lack of respiration before you bleed to death.”

When the prey was finally still Azure lifted his muzzle from the agent’s neck and mewed at his human.

“Good kitty,” Rachel said, rubbing him on the bottom of his bloody jowls. “Good kitty…”

“This is a bit hot,” General Lepheimer said, looking down at the mass of orcs that were swarming First Legion’s hastily formed parapet.

“Yes, it is,” Edmund said, pulling out his watch and then looking up at the sun. “Wouldn’t you say it’s just before noon?”

“About that,” the First Legion commander replied. “I mean, there’s quite a lot of them.”

“Yes, there are,” Edmund replied. The main mass of the orcs from the portal had hit the parapet like a wave and the rest had joined in since trying to attack their own former defenses didn’t seem to be working. If there was any control over the battle on the New Destiny side it was not apparent.

“The archers are getting tired,” Lepheimer pointed out. “And we’re rather severely outnumbered.”

“That we are,” Edmund agreed.

“And they’re pressing around to the right flank,” General Lepheimer continued, pointing towards the end of the ridge where orcs could be seen spreading out and heading up the grass covered hill.

“Yep,” Edmund said.

“General, why are you so… calm about that?”

“Hold it,” Edmund said, glancing to the east then taking off his helmet. He lay down on the parapet and pressed his ear against the wood then smiled. “Oh, well,” he said, standing back up and brushing off his armor, “close enough for government work.”

“What?” Lepheimer asked as he handed back the helmet.

“You hear it?” Edmund said, smiling.

“No?” the general said, clearly out of his depth. Then over the sound of the battle he did here it. Or, rather, feel it. A rumbling in the ground. “What the hell is that?”

“That,” Edmund said, turning and pointing to the right flank.

Over the hill a tide of horsemen appeared, long lances shining in the sun. They didn’t even stop their canter, simply dressed ranks on the move, locked in knee to knee and sped into a gallop as the long lances lowered to the attack and a great cry rose from six thousand throats.

“KENTIA!”

“Make signal to both legions,” Edmund said, buckling his helmet. “Advance to attack.”