A Picture of the Heart

Per Joran’s instructions, Laine dropped into the stairs and disappeared into the crowd at the base of the wall. He hadn’t dared look around when he made his move, not that it would have mattered; as of now, Nichols was just another face in the crowd, but that would all change when he decided to spew more of his toxicity.

“You heard what we’re facing?” Nichols shouted. “Weurgen! The most vicious beasts this realm has ever seen. Now they’re at our doorstep! That’s why the king is scared to come out!”

Laine needed to move fast but stealthily to avoid spooking Nichols. Going where he had heard the man’s last shout was probably a waste of time. After all, the former Lieutenant was no fool. He’d strike and move. Still, Laine had to start somewhere, and that was the only clue he had.

Once he reached the approximate location, he scanned the groups. No use. There were too many people looking all different directions. He’d have to rely on his ears. Closing his eyes, he calmed himself and listened. What he heard was unwelcome. Nichol’s words were repeated over and over by defenders and archers. Some were curious, but others seemed to share Nichol’s twisted perspective. Many expressed concerns about the Weurgen, and as Laine quickly discovered, very few had any idea what the Weurgen actually were.

Laine had seen them. They were certainly a ferocious enemy, but it was clear that too many tall tales had encircled the Weurgen, turning them into the stuff of horrific legends. The story tellers had made them out to be practically invincible. Pushing the thoughts aside, Laine focused again.

“Watch out,” someone yelled.

Laine spun to look where the man was pointing. No one had time to react. The black arrow struck a defender, exploded into vines, and wrapped around his body. The man toppled over, but Laine leaped forward and caught him.

“Looking for someone?” Nichols called from nearby. “It's too bad the arrow wasn’t a few feet to the left. It would have saved me the hassle of dealing with you myself.”

So much for the element of surprise.

“Take him,” Laine said to the closest defenders before releasing the man and pressing into the crowd.

Speed would be his best ally if there was any chance of catching Nichols. So, throwing caution to the wind, he shoved past the last line of defenders and spotted someone sprinting up Southgate Street toward the barracks. There was a chance it wasn’t Nichols, but it was a chance he’d have to take.

Just before Laine reached the barracks, he caught a glint off to his right at the back corner of the building. Cautiously, he entered the narrow alley. A defender’s breastplate was sitting in a small circle of moonlight. A trap? Of course, but he didn’t have a choice but to walk right into it. Leaning out, he peeked around the corner behind the barracks. Another glint showed from nearby a dying fireplace about midway up the alley. There were plenty of places to prepare an ambush, but on the other hand, there was only one way in or out.

Nocking an arrow, Laine peeked. That’s not good. The fireplace was extinguished. Clever guy.

“There’s no reason to be skittish,” Nichols called from the darkness ahead.

His voice seemed distant, probably at the far end of the alley.

“You like to play games?” Laine retorted. “Let’s find you somewhere nice and cozy in the dungeon to play.”

“A little overconfident, aren’t you?”

“Why don’t you show yourself,” Laine called, trying to hide his frustration.

“Don’t worry. You’ll see plenty more of me. Unless the Weurgen kill you tonight, but for now, our little game is over.”

It was a trap, but time was ticking, and Joran would need Laine on the wall. So, bow drawn, he entered the alley, taking slow, deliberate steps. Several minutes later, he’d thoroughly searched to the dead-end.

The chase had lasted less than twenty minutes, but when Laine returned to the wall, the scene was chaos. The enemy had launched a volley of black arrows. Defenders and archers alike were strewn across the street, wrapped in vines. They haven’t even attacked the wall, and we’ve lost a lot of people.

Despite the chaotic scene, Laine spotted Joran standing tall in the middle of the wall, unflinching as arrows continued to fly. Forcing himself to ignore the agonizing cries of entangled men, Laine dodged incoming arrows as he made his way to Joran.

“Did you catch him?”

“No worries, he’ll give us another opportunity, but right now, we have bigger matters to deal with,” Joran said, nodding toward the enemy camp where a sea of torches burned across the plains.

The same beasts he’d seen in the War Chamber book incident now filled the once golden plains. Their fur-covered, hunched-over bodies swayed as if dancing in unison to some unheard melody. Laine pulled his gaze from the scene to the wall and street. He could only imagine what his men were thinking. A handful of archers and defenders had faced Weurgen at the Battle of Black Oak; however, most had either retired or were promoted to non-combat positions.

“They’re moving the siege towers,” Joran said, motioning toward the three monstrous structures being pulled across the muddy plains by two ropes and twenty Weurgen.

“What’re your orders?”

“The towers are a problem, but we have a more immediate one. We’re already short nearly ninety defenders and archers.”

“Ninety!” Laine exclaimed.

“We have at least thirty entangled in vines, which we can’t cut through or untangle, and another sixty hauling them to the infirmary.”