Judgment

CHAPTER 13

Balthor walked into Auror, one hand resting on his axe handle and the other massaging his bruised temples.

"Blast that girl," he grumbled. "Me head is going to ache for a week." While making his way slowly toward the great hall to inform Kamahl that the scouts had not checked in, the dwarf noticed a crowd gathered outside the ale hall. A shout pierced the still night air. "Stand aside! It is time to finish this once and for all. The witch must pay."

"Oh, Fiers! No!" said Balthor. "Jeska." The dwarf ran. Fighting his way through the mob, Balthor pushed to the center behind Kamahl just as the large barbarian plunged his father's sword into his sister's body.

"Kamahl! No!" roared Balthor as Jeska crumpled to the ground. Rushing up to the man he'd treated as a son even before the boy's father died, Balthor looked down at Jeska, the daughter he had adopted and cherished. The massive sword that Balthor had forged a century earlier had torn a huge gash in Jeska's stomach. But there was no blood. Instead, small blue flames danced within the wound, slowly burning the flesh, which seared and fused together.

"What have ye done, me boy?" asked Balthor as he grabbed Kamahl by the arm and tried to pull him around. A deathly silence washed across the gathered barbarians. "What have ye done?"

As Balthor pulled on him, Kamahl whirled around, the fire in his eyes flaring, his sword drawn back in his bandaged and bloody hands, ready to strike again. But when the barbarian saw Balthor's face, the rage washed away from his eyes, replaced by a look of confusion. Kamahl dropped the tip of his sword to the ground and stared at Balthor.

"You… you're dead," said Kamahl. "He said you were dead." Balthor merely shook his head.

"Dear Fiers, what have 1 done," cried out Kamahl, dropping his sword to the ground and burying his face in his huge hands. Falling to his knees as the assembled generals and army watched in stunned silence, the barbarian leader threw his head back and roared at the night sky like a wolf howling for a lost mate. "Noooooooo!" he cried. "Please Fiers. Noooo!" With his cries echoing off the mountains, Kamahl crawled over to Jeska and cradled his sister's head in his bloodstained arms, whimpering, "No, Jeska, no," as he rocked back and forth, holding her limp body to his chest and burying his face in her hair.

As the dwarf walked over to comfort Kamahl and the gathered warriors began to disperse, Balthor heard an explosion from behind him and turned to see a wall of smoke rising from the ground and rolling toward him. "Talon!" cried the dwarf. "Not now!"

Rushing into the smoke, Balthor heard cries and explosions coming from all around him. The city was under attack, and Kamahl was in no shape to lead his men into battle.

"Lamar," hollered the dwarf. "Do something about this smoke. Janvel, assemble your men and form a phalanx. Pyke, guard Kamahl."

Unable to see his axe in front of his face through the dense smoke, Balthor closed his eyes, slowed his breathing, and focused his mind on his remaining senses. Through the confusion of shouting and explosions, Balthor could sense enemies approaching from behind the great hall. Opening his eyes and swinging his great axe around in front of him, Balthor sent a stream of lightning toward his foes, and he rushed forward behind the curved, moving wall of electricity.

The lightning discharged, illuminating several forms in the smoke. As Balthor rushed in, he realized these were not barbarians. They moved on four legs but were much larger than firecats. Hooking the head of his battle-axe on the soles of his boots, Balthor threw himself into a forward roll, barreling into the first beast and slicing through its chest as he spun underneath the huge animal.

Popping up behind the massive creature he'd just split open, Balthor spun around and buried the head of his axe in the flank of the second beast. The dwarf then released his weapon- which held fast in the wound-jumped up and used the axe handle as a springboard to vault over the back of the creature, landing with all his weight on the beast's head, driving it into the ground and crushing its skull.

Facing the last creature with no weapon, Balthor stared at the form outlined in the crackling energy of his spell, waiting for it to attack. The creature was built low to the ground like a mountain cat but was easily five feet across at the shoulder and had long boar tusks jutting out from its mouth. Balthor knew the mountains had no such creatures and doubted they were even natural.

"This be Cabal magic," said the dwarf. "They've come for the orb."

The dementia monster charged, lowering its head to spear the dwarf with its massive tusks. Diving to the ground as it charged, Balthor grabbed the beast's front paws in his hands and hooked his feet over its tusks, forcing the creature to stumble and pulling its head down into the ground.

Unable to stop its forward momentum, the monster flipped over forward, breaking off its tusks as it rolled and landing on its back with the dwarf on top. Balthor rolled to the side of the beast, snatched up the broken tusk and jammed it down into the creature's exposed neck, pinning the beast to the ground and leaving it there to bleed to death.

Balthor returned for his axe, and the second beast melted away into a dark, dense cloud amidst the smoke.

"Aye, dementia monsters," said Balthor. "Definitely. I'd better get back to Kamahl afore they reach him." Grabbing his axe off the ground, Balthor attuned his senses to the battle once again and raced back to the ale hall, avoiding pockets of battle along the way as barbarians faced off against summoned horrors.

Coming up to where Kamahl still sat, holding his sister and sobbing, Balthor sensed a beast creeping up on the grieving barbarian. That's no tusked cat, thought Balthor. Let's see what we've got here. Balthor tucked his axe handle under his arm and slapped his hands together, producing a booming thunderclap that split the smoke in front of him.

A tunnel of clear air spread out from Balthor to Kamahl, and the dwarf saw an eight-foot, snake-headed beast about to take a swipe at the prone barbarian. Balthor grabbed his axe in his strong right hand and heaved it end over end at the assassin. The blade bit into the beast between the shoulder blades. The snake man roared in pain, straightened up, and began flailing about with its hands, trying to find the weapon embedded in its back.

Rushing in to press his advantage, Balthor leaped into the air, spun around, and slammed his boots into the head of his axe to drive it deeper into the beast's back. When he landed beside the scaly creature, Balthor was surprised to see it still standing with both blades of his axe buried in its back.

The snake man leered down at Balthor, its sloped forehead spattered with its own green blood.

"Now you die, little man," it spat at him, then spun around and slapped Balthor in the gut with its tail, sending the dwarf flying into the smoke that engulfed the village.

Balthor fell hard on his back, rolled to his side, and doubled over in pain, wrapping his arms around his stomach. Gasping for breath, the winded dwarf tried to attune to the battle to determine where he'd landed. He felt the movement of the smoke just before the massive, clawed hand slashed down at him.

Unable to roll out of the way, Balthor shot his fist up, jabbing at the incoming attack and hitting the beast's open palm dead center. As the bones in the creature's hand shattered from the impact, the sudden halt of its attack caused it to over balance. The snake man shifted its weight to regain its balance, but Balthor reached up with his other hand, grabbed the scaly wrist, and pulled the beast forward.

The assassin fell forward onto Balthor, and the dwarf kicked his legs up into the beast's groin to shove the creature up over his head. Balthor pulled down on the captive arm to twist the beast in the air, so it landed hard on its back. Jumping up, Balthor clapped his hands together to clear the smoke away again. The huge, snake-headed man lay dead next to Balthor, one blade of the dwarf's double headed axe sticking completely out of its chest and neck, the point of the blade pinning the beast's head back under the chin.

Balthor waited a moment, assuming the beast would disappear back into the dementia space from whence it came, but the assassin's body was permanent, and the dwarf's weapon was stuck fast. Leaving the weapon for later, Balthor ran back to Kamahl.

The sounds of battle were fading away, but Balthor wasn't sure that was a good thing. His battle senses told him there were far more tusked panthers than barbarians left, and there were other creatures still out there, moving almost too silently for the dwarf to detect.

"More snakes, I'll wager," said Balthor to himself. "Lamar, Janvel, Pyke! Report," he called into the smoke but got no reply. "Damn!" he muttered. "And me with no axe." Turning to Kamahl, Balthor pleaded with the barbarian, who still sat, rocking back and forth. "Kamahl. Snap out of it, boy. Ye can't help her now. Stand up and fight, or ye'll lose everything."

"I already have," came the whispered response. "I already have."

"Then this is it," muttered Balthor. "Me last battle, and I don't even have me axe." Bending down, Balthor saw Jeska's bloody daggers in the dirt next to Kamahl, and he scooped them up. "Here I am, ye Cabal bastards. Show me your worst."

As the forms in the smoke closed in upon Balthor, the dwarf sensed something else moving in fast beyond the Cabal beasts. Before he could identify the new targets, a quick succession of thunderclaps shook the buildings in the village and cleared the remaining smoke away.

Beyond a dozen tusked panthers and four snake assassins stood Talon and the Elite Eight. In the torchlight, Balthor could see Talon twirling his now single-headed axe in his left hand as he advanced upon the beasts, who seemed unsure whether to proceed forward or turn to fight.

Talon's army made the decision for them, screaming and charging into battle.

"Mind the lizards," yelled Balthor. "They be pretty nasty."

The dwarf watched for fear of letting one of the assassins get past him to Kamahl, figuring he'd help if Talon's forces got into trouble. Looking around, Balthor saw most of Kamahl's army lying dead in the street. Lamar had fallen in a heap, his neck snapped. Pyke was on his back, his chest ripped open by a set of massive claws. Janvel had been torn in two with only a pool of blood connecting his legs and his body.

Talon was the first to reach the Cabal beasts, swinging the notched blade of his axe down and through the neck of one of the dementia panthers on his way to the first snake man. Tybiel shot past a panther to get to a second lizard, while Joha, Brue, Thurmon, and the rest spread out and hunted the rest of the tusked panthers.

But it was Talon whom Balthor watched. Even with only one arm, he was a mighty warrior. Coming in full speed on a snake man with a bandage wrapped around its shoulder and upper arm, Talon stopped short, just out of reach of the beast's attack. He swiped his axe around in front of him, cutting the creature's good arm off at the elbow.

Talon then spun around, dipping his chest down low and kicking his leg up and into the bandage on the creature's other arm. Balthor heard a loud snap as the beast's arm shattered just below its shoulder. Continuing around, Talon whipped his axe into the lizard's face, smashing its nose and shattering its skull.

After shooting a quick lightning bolt at an approaching panther, which exploded in the creature's face leaving nothing but its lower jaw and tusks behind, Talon ran off toward his next target-a snake with twin scorch marks on its chest.

Taking a quick look at Tybiel, Balthor could see the brash young mage was in over his head. He'd lost his weapon and was doing everything he could just to dodge the huge, scaly beast's slashing attacks.

"Damn fool," said Balthor, as he flipped one of Jeska's daggers over in his hand and heaved it at the beast. The long, thin blade flew like a dart and embedded up to the hilt in the barrel-chested lizard's shoulder. As the beast screamed in pain and tried desperately to grasp the weapon's handle, Tybiel darted in and grabbed his sword from between the creature's feet.

By the time Balthor found Talon again, the one-armed barbarian was tangling with the scorched lizard. He'd caught the creature's attack with the shaft of his axe and then kicked his leg out to shatter the beast's wrist. Hooking the lizard's other wrist underneath the notched blade of his axe, Talon twisted the shaft and forced the beast's hand back until the bones snapped and the tendons ripped.

Enraged by pain, the snake man bared its fangs and snapped its head down toward the barbarian's neck. Talon ducked underneath the incoming attack and swung his arm up and over his head, holding the shaft of his axe hard against his forearm. Talon slashed the blade clean through the beast's jaw, and the top of the creature's head hit the ground even before the body crumpled in front of Talon.

Glancing back at the rest of the Elite Eight, Balthor could see they had finished off most of the dementia panthers and that Joha and Brue were rushing to help Tybiel. The brash barbarian hung six inches off the ground, held by the neck by the beast's massive, clawed hand. Tybiel pushed at the beast as it pulled him closer and closer to its open mouth, but he was losing the battle.

Loath to give up his last weapon, Balthor nevertheless flipped the remaining dagger into his right hand and pulled his arm back to throw. But the dwarf saw another missile hurtling toward the huge lizard. Talon had thrown his own weapon away to try to save his warrior. Just before the axe hit, though, the snake man snapped his head forward, clamped down on Tybiel's neck, and ripped out the barbarian's throat.

With Tybiel's blood running down the beast's scaly chin, the creature tossed its head back in triumph, only to have that victory cut short as Talon's axe imbedded in the back of its head, shattering the beast's skull and destroying its brain.

Balthor looked back at Talon just in time to see the last snake warrior closing on the unarmed barbarian.

"Talon, look out!" yelled the dwarf.

Talon whirled around as the beast attacked. Seeing its clawed hand too late to dodge, the one-armed barbarian tried to duck down and away from the blow, but the creature's claws dug into Talon's cheek and ripped the soft flesh from his mouth to his ear.

Knocked off balance by the blow, Talon fell back and away from the creature, bleeding profusely from his face. Talon took two halting steps backward and then fell to the ground, landing on his back facing the snake beast. As the creature stalked forward, Talon wiped the blood from his cheek, gathered mana in his palm and then sprayed the droplets of blood at the advancing snake man.

The blood flew through the air, the spell transforming it into a fine mist of acid that soaked the chest of the beast. Balthor noticed this snake man was already badly burned and had lost most of the scales on its torso. When the acid hit the thin layer of scar tissue on its chest, the beast screamed in pain and began scraping at its chest with its clawed hands, which merely transferred the acid to its palms.

While the beast dealt with the burning liquid on its chest and hands, Talon rolled over and stood up. As Talon searched for a weapon to use to finish off the beast, Balthor noticed Kamahl's great sword lying at his feet.

Hooking his foot under the flat blade, Balthor yelled, "Talon! Sword!" and kicked the six-foot-long weapon into the air toward the one-armed barbarian.

Talon caught the tumbling sword by the hilt and spun the blade around once in his left hand. Whipping the sword up and around his body, the tall, blond barbarian sliced the snake beast in two from its hip up to the opposite shoulder, shredding organs, shattering its rib cage, and severing its spine.

The beast fell to the ground in two pieces, its torso still smoldering from the acid. Talon turned to survey the battlefield, but the battle was over, and the remaining members of the Elite Eight were beginning to search for survivors amongst the bodies littering the village.

Walking over to Balthor, Talon stuck the tip of Kamahl's weapon into the ground before the dwarf, and said, "Fine sword. Thank you."

"No. Our thanks go out to you and your warriors, Talon," said Balthor. "Ye saved us all. I can't speak for Kamahl, but I think ye earned that sword tonight. And I don't think he'll want it after this."

"If Kamahl offers, I will consider it," said Talon, "but I've seen the chaos that orb can cause, and I don't believe any amount of power is worth the risk of this happening again."

The two warriors looked down at Kamahl.

"Help me get him to bed, will ye, Talon?" asked Balthor, and the two former enemies grabbed their friend and led him home.

From her hidden vantage point in the rocks above the village, Braids saw her chance to get the Mirari slip away as the dwarf and the one-armed barbarian took Kamahl, his sister's body, and the huge sword into a house at the other end of the village.

She watched to see if she might have a chance at the sword and that blasted dwarf in the middle of the night, but the tall barbarian came back out and posted a guard outside the house-the two warriors who had defeated most of her feline pets.

"Well, it was fun while it lasted," said Braids to herself. She felt an odd sadness as she crept away from the village and began to descend the mountain. She had grown to like Leer and the boys. Their loss left an empty place in her gut. The Cabal was her family, and Braids was completely devoted to the First, just as if he were her father. But her dementia space left Braids detached from the world, and she had never truly loved anyone before. As she stored their forms in the black cloud of dementia space that floated always above her head, Braids decided something. She must avenge Leer and the boys, for that's what people do for those they love.

"The barbarian and that dwarf will suffer for what they did to you, boys," she said. "They will suffer."