Theran and Lovac returned with their report a while later, Lovac spoke as soon as the duo approached Caleste and Emmon.
“We found bootprints, loads of ‘em. Reckon a force of twenty or so,” he said in his usual clipped tone, “Headed south.”
“There’s no sign that they have any mounts,” Theran added, “We didn’t see any hoof prints at least.”
Emmon and Caleste exchanged a look.
“They couldn’t have gotten far then,” Emmon said, “Though I’d imagine if this was some kind of raiding party from the Southern Kingdom then they’d have ridden in on horses at least.”
“Perhaps they thought the terrain too rough,” Caleste surmised, “In any case, if they truly are on foot then we should be able to catch them.”
Emmon looked unsure, “They have us outnumbered two to one. We should get reinforcements.”
However, Caleste knew that going back to get reinforcements or recruiting extra hands from whoever was left in this forsaken valley would take too long. They had a chance at finding and catching whoever sacked Odrum, a chance that was rapidly slipping away as they sat and chatted. Her hands itched as if they were desperate to wield her halberd in battle once more. She’d be more than happy to indulge.
“As if that’s ever stopped us before?” Caleste raised an eyebrow at Emmon, “We’re the best warriors this side of the Barrens with the best mage on the continent. Do not underestimate you or your men’s skills … and more importantly, do not underestimate mine.”
Emmon shrank slightly under her gaze and after a few tense moments he finally nodded, “I’ll get our men ready.”
“I want to leave within the hour.”
She turned and walked away before Emmon could respond. She walked by Edrahn who was kneeling next to the ruins of a house with one of her hands planted on the ground in the still hot ashes. Her wife showed no signs of discomfort despite the smoke rising from just under her palm. Her brow was furrowed as if concentrating on something.
“What is it my love?” Caleste asked.
“I’m not sure,” she admitted, “I can sense traces of magic in these ruins.”
“You think there’s a mage with them?”
That information wouldn’t change Caleste’s decision about going after these raiders, though a mage may require a slight change of tactics.
“That’s the thing,” Edrahn stood up, the same strange expression on her face, “I can sense magic all through these ruins but it’s not … it’s not ours.”
A sense of unease crawled down Caleste’s spine at that. She had never seen her wife so spooked. For a moment she wondered if she was making the right decision to go after the raiders instead of returning to Caleston to bolster her forces and inform the queen. Almost immediately she shrugged off the thought, annoyed at herself for being worried.
Everything would be fine.
She placed a hand on her wife’s shoulder, “We’ve faced worse,” she said, “Between you and I, these raiders don’t have a chance. Strange magic or no.”
Edrahn flashed her wife a grin, “I know.”
***
Within the hour they were back on their mounts and following the trail the raiders had left behind. Caleste rode in front with Emmon and Lovac while Edrahn stayed further back in the middle of the column, flanked by Theran and another knight. The sun was high overhead though Caleste could barely tell. The smoke and the thick forest canopy mostly choked out the sunlight. Their world was reduced to a hazy, unnatural twilight and Caleste could see only a few feet in front of her in the murk.
Her sense of unease hadn’t abated since they left Odrum, a nagging voice that had been once a whisper in her head was now practically screaming at her that this was a very bad idea. She ignored it for the most part but kept a sharp watch for any signs of danger. The forest was dead quiet save for the sound of their horses.
The haze only thickened around them.
Caleste noticed her horse was lagging and its breath came out in a harsh wheeze. She turned to ask Emmon if his horse was having any difficulties when a surprised yelp and a loud crash broke the unsettled quiet of the forest. Everyone turned in alarm to see what caused the disturbance:
One of the knights near the rear of the column was now on the ground, groaning and rubbing his sore shoulder. His leg was trapped under his horse that now lay on the ground barely breathing. Immediately everyone stopped, Emmon began barking orders, “Stay sharp – Theran, Meris: Get that horse off his leg.”
“What happened?” Caleste asked. She felt her horse swaying unsteadily under her, it was the only warning she got before it too dropped. It was only due to her quick reflexes that she didn’t get trapped under her steed, she hit the ground and rolled out of the way before the horse could land on her.
Her mask became dislodged as she did so, and she got a lung full of the air that surrounded them. Almost immediately her throat seemed to seize up on her as the overpowering stench of sulfur filled her lungs. She hacked and wheezed; her stomach roiled in protest at the strong odor.
She scrambled to put her mask back on and turned to Edrahn, “Clear this out.”
Her voice barely came out in a rasp, but Edrahn heard her. Edrahn wasn’t well versed in wind magic, she was much more of a fireballs out of your fists kind of woman, but she still knew the basic principles behind the action. She began whispering to herself as she concentrated. The branches in the trees began to sway and creak as the wind picked up all around them.
Edrahn was staring upwards at the canopy and the clear air she hoped was above. Over the roar of the wind Caleste couldn’t hear their attackers and didn’t notice them until it was almost too late. The only warning she got was the glint of blackened metal from behind a few trees. Almost immediately after an arrow came screaming through the air at her. It was buffeted by the strong winds and knocked off course, skittering harmlessly over the maille that covered her arm before embedding itself into the tree behind her.
Slowly the deadly fog cleared out from around them and the haze dissipated enough to reveal their attackers. There were around twenty in total, wearing varying amounts of the strange black metal armor and wielding weapons made of the same material. Caleste noted that while some were wearing armor that looked more or less intact, the majority were practically wearing scraps.
What made her heart stop though was what the creatures wearing the armor looked like.
They were not human, not entirely, she thought to herself. Their skin was a pale gray and pulled taught across their cheekbones. Their eyes seemed clouded as if they were blind … or dead. She half expected them to stumble and stagger when they walked; she was shocked when one of them leaped at her with a burst of speed and brought its ax down on her head.
She barely dodged to the right, the ax slammed down onto her shoulder and clove through the metal of her cuirass. The maille underneath provided enough protection to keep her from losing her arm but she felt the force of the blow through the gambeson she wore. She kicked out at her attacker, knocking its legs out from under it. It went down with a mighty crash.
Caleste was on top of it before it could stand up, she withdrew her dagger from her belt — it was a long and stiff-bladed weapon, used for stabbing between gaps in plate or breaking through maille. Her attacker wore neither, clad in what she deemed a sorry excuse for a gambeson and a brimmed helm like the one she saw in Odrum.
She slammed the dagger into its chest. It opened its mouth as if it wanted to scream in pain, but nothing came out, instead it gripped her arm so tight she swore she could feel her bones creak. With a grunt she managed to wrest herself from its grip and yank the dagger out. The next time the blade came down it went into its neck. Nearly black blood oozed from the two wounds and after a few feeble attempts to fight back, the creature finally lay still.
Caleste had no time to process what had just happened as there were still more enemies to fight. All she really gathered in that moment that she had been wrong: These were most certainly not raiders from the Southern Kingdoms.
She was pretty sure they weren’t even human.
She took a few moments to grab her halberd from the ground where it fell after her horse had collapsed. Around her the small battle raged: Lovac was already down with an arrow to the chest, Theran and Meris had taken up guard near the soldier who still had his leg pinned under his fallen horse. Emmon had moved next to Edrahn, protecting her as the winds continued to swirl around them.
A large figure stepped into her periphery and Caleste raised her halberd to block a blow meant to kill her. It was the best armored of the bunch and Caleste surmised it must either be the leader or at least of a higher rank than its companions. Its eyes seemed to gleam under the visored helm it wore. It brandished a long two-handed sickle-like sword. She had managed to catch the blow on the long handle of its sword rather than the blade.
It pressed the sword into the haft of her halberd and shoved, knocking her off balance. The wicked point of the black blade came dangerously close to her face before she managed to regain her footing. She stepped to her right while raising her right arm and letting her left arm drop. Her foe, still putting a considerable amount of force on the blade, stumbled forward as it suddenly met no resistance. She let go of the haft with her right hand, letting the halberd pivot backwards around her left hand.
The head of the halberd slammed into her foe’s chin, the armor it wore was the only reason it didn’t have its jaw cloven in two. In fact, the moment that Caleste’s halberd hit the creature, it felt like she had slammed her halberd into the side of a mountain. Her hands tingled painfully as the force of the blow reverberated up the haft.
“What the?”
The creature seemed unfazed by the blow and stood up with a grunt. It attacked again, swinging its blade viciously at her and this time the edge of the blade caught the haft of her weapon. She watched in astonishment as the blade broke the wooden haft in two.
The creature’s shoulders shook as it made a rasping noise, as if it was laughing at her predicament. She dropped the useless half of her haft and clutched what was left of it in both hands. She wasn’t going to go down without a mighty fight.
With a loud cry, Caleste moved in on her foe with her broken halberd raised — giving it an opening to attack. The creature lunged.
Caleste dodged the thrust at the last second, stepping off to the side as the blade carved into her cuirass. Instead of striking it directly (she had certainly learned her lesson from before) she delivered a savage kick to the back of its knee as it stepped forward and it collapsed as its leg buckled beneath it. She put all her strength into driving the point of the halberd’s spike to the creature’s back. Once again, its armor stopped the blow, though the strike certainly had put a dent into the metal.
The creature slammed its hand on the ground. Almost immediately Caleste felt the ground heave beneath her, and she lost her balance. Her ankle rolled painfully as the unstable ground gave way and she fell to the dirt on her hands and knees.
Caleste noticed more activity in the woods around her, but she paid no attention to it as she focused on the immediate threat. The creature staggered upright with a grunt, favoring its uninjured leg and raising its sword.
“Caleste!”
Caleste was now knocked completely flat onto her stomach as a huge gust of wind slammed into her and the creature. The creature was pushed back several feet and into the trunk of a pine tree. Caleste looked back to see her wife with her staff raised and the air swirling violently around her. Her expression was apoplectic as she stared down the creature.
“Stay away from my wife.”
She had said it quietly but with the winds carrying her voice through the clearing it might as well have been a shout.
Caleste looked around her and saw there were many more people in the clearing than before – many more human people. Warriors in nasal helms with aventails that obscured their faces and golden scale armor were now amongst those battling the creatures in black. One of them grabbed one of the creatures and the air shimmered around the two.
She heard its bones crack before it crumpled to the ground in a twisted heap.
Caleste turned to face the creature she had been fighting only to see it stepping back into the woods and disappearing into the brush and thick haze. She stood up and hobbled after it while ignoring the pain that shot up her ankle. Air rushed past her as Edrahn cleared out the smoke that obscured her path, but it was no use.
There was a low rumble, a slight jolt in the earth, and the creature was gone. A disturbed patch of ground was the only sign that the hole it had disappeared into was there at all. Caleste lowered her broken halberd with a scowl and limped back to the clearing. Edrahn was at Caleste’s side in moments, offering her shoulder for a tired and injured Caleste to lean on.
“Thanks honey,” Caleste said as she sagged against her wife taking the opportunity to kiss her gently on the temple. She couldn’t express how relieved she was to see Edrahn unhurt.
“Any time dear.”
Emmon approached them, next to him was a man clad in the golden scale armor — he had taken his helmet off and had it tucked under his arm.
“What are you doing here?” Caleste asked.
“Same as you it seems,” the man answered, “We were chasing those damned things. They’ve ravaged several of our towns … We thought we’d never catch them until we found they were attacking you.”
“Thank you,” Caleste said, though her thanks was more out of polite obligation than gratitude. She stared around the now calm battlefield and saw what the battle had cost. Lovac was most certainly dead, as was the soldier who had gotten pinned under his horse who now had his chest caved in by what appeared to be a blow from a mace. Theran was leaning against a tree; she yanked off her ruined vambrace to reveal a bleeding wound underneath.
There were varying other degrees of injury she noted but aside from Lovac and the soldier under the horse — no one else seemed to be dead.
“What were those things?” Edrahn asked quietly, her voice shook slightly, “They felt …”
She trailed off and Caleste could feel her shudder.
“Whatever they were,” the man said, “They’re not human and they’re ruthless.”
“Their armor was strong too,” Caleste said, “Whatever metal that was made of — it can’t be normal iron or steel.”
She took a moment to examine the broken halberd still in her free hand. The spike was visibly deformed, the sharpened point made dull by the blow she had landed on the creature’s armor. The blade of the halberd where it had met the creature’s armored jaw was similarly deformed. Her eyes wandered down the wooden haft; she had thought it had snapped in two as it certainly wasn’t the first time that had happened — though she had just gotten the damn thing replaced.
Her eyes widened as she finally examined the break.
It wasn’t a break — the haft had been cut cleanly in two.
“We should alert the queen,” Emmon spoke up, “She needs to hear of this.”
Caleste’s grip around her broken halberd tightened and her expression soured. They had been made to look like fools in this battle! She had been knocked flat and injured, her weapon broken as if it were a toy. The only thing that hurt more than her ankle was her pride.
Talk to the queen? Tell her what happened here? No. She wouldn’t do that.
She had already asked for help once and she wasn’t about to do it again. What kind of ruler was she that she had to ask for help to handle such a small problem as this? No. She could handle this. She could prove her worth.
Her reply was short and harsh.
“No. We can handle this on our own.”
“M’lord …,” Emmon began but she cut him off.
“We’ll take our wounded and dead and ride back to Caleston,” Caleste said, “We raise an army, and we scour every inch of this damned countryside until we find these … things … and show them that we don’t run — we win.”