A monster inside, p.33
A Monster Inside, page 33
part #1 of Undying Prince Series
Leave it, Vatn Björns are always long in dying, Asbjörn said. But fire is their one weakness. Look how beautifully it burns. He laughed like a loon.
Erik took a couple quick steps back, but the creature did not attack. It lay there as if trying to lure him into a false sense of security. He tasted blood on his lip; the cut throbbed. He shook his head and turned away from the Vatn Björn.
The columns of black smoke had given him some idea of what to expect, but that paled beside reality. A huge milling mass of Dökk swarmed Hjörtur’s columned walkways, moving toward the inner wall, completely surrounding isolated groups of fighters, pinning others to the ground, raping screaming soldiers in ruined armor. Several buildings were on fire, only helping to illuminate the horror taking place.
What is this? Erik’s eyes widened. He had read tales of the atrocities committed during the Dökk Wars, but he had always considered them an exaggeration; stories told to magnify your own side’s goodness by highlighting the enemy’s wickedness. After all, what army would rape women, men, and children alike?
A bitter, mocking voice answered him. What does it look like? It was the Lightbender’s voice, weaker than Erik had ever heard it. You came to fight, but they came to party. A joyless laugh followed his words.
Is that what they did to you? Erik asked. The laughter stopped, and Patrick’s presence receded, but not before the Prince felt a wave of shame and hate flow off of the Lightbender.
Erik paused, about to speak, but gave his head a shake instead. He did not have time for this. Whatever happened to the Lightbender during his captivity was his problem. Erik’s mind only had room for one concern: Hanna. He had to protect her. He had to make sure she was safe.
Howling in fury, Erik dashed toward the nearest Dökk. This was not the time for calm; he allowed his hate to build into an overpowering torrent. Before the Dökk could even turn, the Prince hacked it and bolted past the Gray Skin as it fell spewing scarlet. He had to reach Hanna; every fiber of his being was focused on that goal. The longsword danced in his hands, gleaming with gore as he cut down everything in his path
Erik worked hard to keep himself from running too fast, which grew ever more challenging with the Celestial Dragon’s joy singing in his veins. At his top speed, the Dökk would have been little more than stationary objects, but at that moment they moved at a crawl. Still much too slow to prove a challenge, yet he longed to test his limits. But his current pace would have to be enough. Any quicker and the human eye would not be able to track him until he stopped, and he could already sense the gazes of surprised soldiers locked on him. It would be another thing he could not explain away. This will be enough. It has to be.
The Gray Skins loomed above him, snarling with their fused teeth as he hewed flesh like wood. He slashed through limbs and severed necks, and blood spurted, fountains of slowly-floating crimson. I have to reach Hanna; that’s all that matters.
Erik cut through the last Dökk blocking his way and stumbled upon a surrounded group of armored soldiers, fending off attacks with wood spears and red-dripping swords. They saw the Prince, and the soldiers’ battered faces lit up with hope and something else. Maybe devotion. He wasted no time in methodically swinging about them with his longsword.
Erik worked to free the men from their entrapment, and distorted cries of “The Prince!”, “We’re Saved!”, and “Prince Erik!” rose. The enemies were weeds before his blade, defenseless creatures that had little time to blink before he hacked them to pieces. Every animal-like howl of pain he ripped out from the throat of a dying Gray Skin was a musical note from the symphony he was conducting.
The soldiers were free. The expressions on the men’s faces had not changed. To them, only seconds had passed since they first saw him. To him, it had all seemed much longer. Most of the great mass of Dökk still charged toward the inner wall; buildings still burned, perhaps a few more than before; isolated pockets of soldiers still fought, and screams filled the night from the mouths of the men being raped.
Erik glanced back at the armored men he had just rescued. A face stood out among the rest, a soldier larger than his comrades. “Kai,” Erik said.
“Is it truly you, my Prince?” Kai asked, his bloody face flushed with disbelief.
Erik nodded. It was the perfect moment for a rousing speech, but nothing came to mind. Worry for Hanna pulled his focus back onto the battle. “With me. For the King! For Vindur!” he shouted, dashing back into the fray. He thought he would have to go it alone, which suited him just fine, but the soldiers took up the call and followed behind him, roaring at the top of their lungs.
At first, Erik only wounded the enemies he encountered, leaving the killing blows to the men who followed behind, at least to him, sluggishly. The cacophony of battle dogged his every step; he could hear the clash of weapons, smell wood burning, the alluring scent of blood, the reek of fear.
He battled on, and his band of fighters continued to swell. Soldiers who only moments before were being violated and waiting to die, once again picked up swords and fought like demons possessed. The Dökk fell beneath Erik’s crimson blade, missing limbs, and hissing hatred.
A hollow boom came from somewhere ahead, and like a thunderclap it sliced through the din of battle, letting Erik know he was getting closer to the heart of the conflict. He rounded the corner with Kai and the other soldiers, and could finally see the base of the inner wall. He stopped and breathed a sigh of relief, the second line of defense had not been breached.
Another blackened Vatn Björn lay just in front of the closed inner gate, and black-coated men and armored soldiers rained down arrows onto the few Gray Skins that tried to rush the walls. The greater milling mass of Dökk stood just out of range, glaring at the humans on top of the wall.
Leading the defenses, Baron Rasmus stood on the rampart, dressed in his usual flowing pink robe, eyes cold, hands folded behind his back. He looked in Erik’s direction with a slight indication of surprise.
“What now?” Kai asked, short of breath. Sweat mixed with blood ran down his chin.
Erik filled his lungs with air and shouted, “Enough!”
The milling tangle turned in Erik’s direction. A thousand dark, unblinking eyes, glared at him. The mass rustled, and a large Dökk, even lankier than its two-meter tall brethren, pushed its way to the front of the ranks. A white piece of bone pierced through each one of its earlobes.
“My name is Erik Ito,” Erik said at the same volume. “Remember it as you die!”
He raced toward the Gray Skins, hardly hearing the cheers of “Prince Erik!” and “Vindur!” that thundered from soldiers behind him, soon taken up by the men on the walls. Streams of Dökk parted around their silent leader, charging toward Erik, spears flashing in the almost dark.
Yes, whispered Patrick. Kill them all!
It felt like a swarm of butterflies were trapped inside Erik’s chest. Even as his hearts quickened, the buzzing increased and the world slowed to a crawl. He easily avoided the spear that reached for him, and hacked the Dökk in half, only sensing a slight tug when his blade passed through the creature’s ribs and spine. He kicked the lower part of the split body, sending it crashing into its companions with the force of a boulder while he spun away from the upper half of the corpse. The front rank of the Dökk exploded. The lower half of the deceased Dökk tore through those behind, and gray shapes burst apart in sprays of blood, meat, and bone.
Erik danced through the red mist he had created, one with his blade, darting from monster to monster in less than the blink of an eyelid, and the next column of Dökk died, then the next, and the next, as though they were lined up to enter a slaughter-house. His focus was on the enemy in front, but dimly he was aware of the inner gates being thrown open, and new soldiers and Lightbenders joining the fray.
Space opened up in front of Erik, and the Dökk with the bone earrings stared at him, its arm outstretched. Shit! Erik threw himself to the side, but he was not quick enough. He heard it first, a thunder-like boom. Then he saw it, a distorted bubble of air rushing toward him. Helplessly, he was sent tumbling backward, and smashed, back first, into a building. Pain flashed through Erik, an eye-watering pain that made it impossible to breathe.
Get up.
Cramped muscles trembling, Erik crawled to his feet. Somehow, he had held onto his sword; he was thankful for that small mercy. The battle had gone on without him. Baron Rasmus, surrounded by a knot of Lightbenders, sent flames dancing with every swing of his longsword. A longsword that resonated at the edge of Erik’s mind. Rosebuds of fire, some as small as an apple and others as large as a boulder, hurtled into the Dökk. Gouts of red flames flared, turning ten of the fused teeth beasts at a time into kindle wood; another thunder-like boom filled the night, hurling Rasmus and black-coated figures into the air.
That fucker has to die, Patrick muttered.
“Agreed,” Erik said, once again entering the maelstrom.
Like a huge razor, he cut a path toward the Dökk that had sent him flying. Where his longsword passed, Gray Skins went down bleeding from deadly wounds. But there always seemed to be more in his way. He leaped into the air and ran across his enemies’ heads like stepping stones. Skulls exploded like melons dropped from a great height with his every step, leaving a gruesome trail of destruction behind him.
At the center of the whirling gray mass, the Dökk with the earrings caught sight of Erik. Eyes slowly widening, its raised its hand at the same pace. Like lightning falling from a cloudless sky, Erik descended upon it, pinning it to the ground with his longsword. The creature smelled strange to his nostrils, like something long-buried beneath the earth.
There was only Erik and the Dökk. Everything else ceased to matter. It opened its mouth, and he shoved his empty hand into its jaw and down its throat. The creature’s dark eyes bulged, and it sent a wave of pleasure traveling through Erik. He smiled—a cruel smile. The monster’s cavity was wet and slippery; it thrashed back and forth, and he yanked its spine out through its orifice.
Noticing the sudden quiet, Erik looked up from his macabre creation. All around him, the fighting had stopped. Men and Dökk alike turned to stare at him. “What’s my name?”
Chapter 40
Silence hung about the body littered battlefield, only broken by the gasps and grunts of the dying.
“What’s my name?” Erik shouted.
A heartbeat more of quiet, and the night exploded with cries of “Erik Ito.” Like rolling thunder, the yells cascaded through the air, wretched from the throat of almost every soldier. Men who had only seconds before been fighting for their lives, now seemed blind to their enemies, which in some cases they stood shoulder-to-shoulder with.
Erik raised a blood-stained hand, and silence descended. Smoke from the fires slowly slid up into the sky. “Kill them all. And as they die, make sure they know your name!” Another roar followed his proclamation, and the heavens itself seemed to crackle and burn.
Demoralized and broken, the few remaining Dökk fled, abandoning their wounded comrades. Hjörtur’s defenders turned on their retreating enemies, blades seeking vengeance. With a smile plastered on his face, Erik could see where individual soldiers worked together to fell an enemy. He thought there might have been as little as two hundred Gray Skins left alive, and they each fought like a cornered rat, ready to gnaw off an arm to escape from the trap. The horrors they visited on the citadel were returned to them in kind. Soldiers toyed with dying Dökk, shoving swords in rectums, removing bloody phalluses as trophies.
From out of the slaughter, Kai approached Erik, eyes glowing with devotion. “Do you realize what you’ve done, my Prince? This story will be told and retold in every inn and tavern from here to Eldur and beyond.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Erik said, climbing to his feet. He ripped his longsword out of the bone-earing Dökk’s carcass; thoughts of future renown were the furthest thing from his mind. He caught sight of Baron Rasmus limping toward him with the help of two Lightbenders. Blood dripped from a cut on the Cultivator’s forehead, and it appeared as if his left shoulder was dislocated.
Rasmus paused in front of Erik, studying him with a face like stone. “This is all your fault.”
“Excuse me?” Erik flicked off the crimson droplets running down the tip of his blade and secured it on his sash. The Lightbenders saluted Erik with fist to heart even though the Baron did not.
Rasmus turned away from Erik, an almost-smile on his lips. “I’m not in the habit of repeating myself.” He hobbled toward the inner gate with the black-coated men hovering close by. “Come on, there is no time to waste.”
“Where’s the Viscount?” Erik asked, falling in beside the Baron. Kai acted as the Prince’s shadow, trailing a few steps behind him.
“Poisoned.” Before Erik had time to interject, Rasmus continued. “The only reason the outer wall fell is because of those things.” He nodded at still burning corpse of the Vatn Björn as they walked past it. “And the fact we were attacked from within and without. This is all because of your pet Sorcerer. He and his abominations have taken control of parts of the citadel.”
On the other side of the inner wall, servants—injured men and women clustered together into small groups on the great square. Hastily-constructed barricades cordoned off the inner fortress, not in a line, but in a half circle of spears, overturned tables, and chairs, manned by hundreds of soldiers.
Erik’s face was a mask of disbelief. “This is Ypse’s doing?” He stood there, seeing without seeing. Ypse is a coward. Where would he find the courage. . . . He spun around and searched faces. “Where’s my wife?” He grabbed Rasmus by the neck and slammed the Baron against the wall. “Answer me!” He lifted the Cultivator into the air. “Where is my wife?”
The Lightbenders touched hands to swords, but did nothing. Like everyone else, they watched in silence; they had seen firsthand what the Prince was capable of. The only one unfazed by the sudden turn of violence was Kai, who placed himself between Erik and the black-coated men, using his body to shield the Prince from any possible attack.
A sickening rage erupted within Erik, exploding to the rhythm of his pounding hearts. His fingers dug into the Baron’s soft flesh, a little more pressure and the man’s head would pop like a squeezed grape. Rasmus stared Erik down, as cool and collected as ever, even as his eyes watered.
“My Prince, is that really you?” a woman’s voiced asked.
Erik released Rasmus, and the man fell to his knees gasping for breath. Ignoring the Baron, Erik approached the woman. Liveried servants bowed and curtsied, backing out of his way. “Súla, where’s Hanna?”
“I’m so sorry.” Erik took another step forward, and Súla trembled. “The last I saw, Ypse had taken her hostage. He planned all of this. I’m sure of it. He proclaimed his love for her in front of all of us within the Viscount’s private gardens and, a moment after, those things came pouring out of the ground.” Her eyes swelled with fat tears. “I-I can only imagine what he’s doing to her now.”
Erik closed his eyes. Breathe, he told himself. Breathe. He wanted to howl, shriek, pound his fist into the earth until the mighty walls that surrounded him crumbled into dust. But he knew it would solve nothing, so he breathed. For a time, that was all Erik could do and then he opened his eyes. Súla stumbled back; whatever she saw terrified her.
“I’ll come with you, if you’ll have me,” Kai said from beside Súla; Erik had not noticed him getting that close.
The only good Sorcerer is a dead one, Asbjörn said. Let me kill him. Why didn’t you let me kill him? Pain humbles all, no matter the title. They all begged for mercy, but I never gave them any. Kill your enemies, then murder your friends. He chuckled like an old uncle imparting wisdom to a beloved nephew. The only time you’re safe is when there is no one alive to betray you.
“Follow if you can keep up,” Erik told Kai, and the soldier nodded, excitement sparkling in his eyes. With a bitter laugh, Erik raised his longsword into the air. “It looks like there’s still more killing to do.” He dashed toward the barricades. Ypse, I swear, if you. . . . The rage built again, a furious cloud of incandescence that energized his steps.
Shouts rose behind Erik, but he had no time to watch or listen. He hopped over the piled tables and chairs, and entered the fortress proper. The hallways and corridors were empty of their usual bustle and din, though Erik could hear the distant sounds of battle, which he followed deeper and deeper into the citadel. A familiar, repugnant, fishy smell grew stronger the closer he got to the entrance of Ypse’s sorcerer’s cavern.
I’m sorry, Patrick said begrudgingly. What I said about your wife crossed a line. Sometimes my mouth has a mind of its own. The Lightbender sounded as though he were talking to himself, as if he were trying to come to some understanding about himself. I was wrong, I can see that now. I’m . . . sorry.
The air roared around Erik, and he took a corner by running across the wall. Did Patrick mean any of what he had just said? Of that, Erik was unsure; Patrick was a coward and the mere fact that Erik now had the power to discipline him was enough to make him fall in line. But the Lightbender’s sincerity did not matter, not to Erik, it was enough he had said the words.
Apology accepted, Erik said.
Erik dropped back to the floor, and stone shook under his feet. He stopped and listened. The fortress shook again, rocked by another tremor. Whatever was happening was far from over. He bolted forward. He rounded another corner, and a spear wall manned by twenty armored men was facing off against a Vatn Björn. The beast blocked the other end of the corridor with its massive body. Behind the soldiers, Sir Tandri knelt. He lowered a torch to a jug stuffed with a cloth.
Sir Tandri looked up from his task and noticed Erik. “You’re supposed to be dead.” There was none of the shock or surprise Erik had witnessed on the faces of others. The Lightbender seemed to take the Prince’s apparent resurrection in stride.
