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Brax refused to let Horst and Ivhart come closer. “Stay back,” he warned them whenever they tried to take one step further from the bubbling acid that had consumed the Kyrgy’s riders and horses and the sorcerer.
“I swear I am no threat to you.”
Brax laughed. “My lord,” sarcasm heavily laded the title, “you gave your word that you were our ally. Then you come riding with that sorcerer, a sorcerer who attacked us.” He brandished the remains of his sword, the blade eaten almost to the very hilt. “Or do you conveniently forget that?”
Desora touched Brax’s arm that still enwrapped her. He quickly dropped the embrace. She started to walk to Horst, but Granny Riding grabbed her arm.
“Can you do that again? Against that creature?”
“I will try.”
“Then don’t go near that Kyrgy. Not now, not yet. That—that thing is headed to Mulgrum, and Teyja is on the road to Mulgrum.”
Priorities, Granny reminded her. As much as Desora wanted to accuse Horst and punish him, their focus had to be the monster.
And they had no horses to take them to Mulgrum.
Horst did not want to walk. He complained every step.
Then they passed a farm. The cottage near the road was destroyed, much as Granny Riding’s cottage had been. The barn behind the house still stood, and the family clustered there. Three adults, stairstep children, all stunned or weeping.
“Dunstan,” Brax said, and the ranger ran to the family, limping a little from the wounds inflicted by the gobbers.
After a bit of conversation, Dunstan disappeared into the barn. When he emerged, he led a plow horse. It towered over him, its muzzle bobbing level with his shoulder. He paused to speak again to the family, then he walked the horse to the fence. He mounted from there then cantered to the road.
“Family’s not hurt,” he reported. “They’re worried about their people in Mulgrum. They saw the girl ride past not long ago. They didn’t think she would catch up to the monster.”
“Praise the goddess,” Granny said. “Surely Teyja won’t ride into the town, straight into that creature?”
“What do you want to do, Captain? They’ve loaned us this horse.”
“Desora and the healer should take it to Mulgrum.”
But Desora dug in her heels. “No. No, Brax, I won’t leave you with Horst. You have no power to counter him.”
“Dunstan and the granny, then. Ride to the village. Challoch will be there. Find him.”
“Aye, captain.”
“I can ride with Dunstan. Our bows against the monster—.”
“No,” Brax said, one word only, yet Ivhart subsided.
Horst looked between the three men then crossed his arms. “I would ride to the village. I can offer your men more help than a simple archer can.”
Brax shook his head and expressed Desora’s own suspicion. “I doubt you would head to the village. There’s no guarantee you wouldn’t find a way to make our battle with this monster more difficult. Trolls, ogres, gobbers. You’d enjoy stirring them into the stew. You’ll continue to walk with Desora and me and Ivhart.”
The Kyrgy lord sniffed. “I do not bargain with trolls and ogres.”
“Decision’s made. Get moving. Dunstan, go.”
“Captain.” He used a fence rail to mount the plow horse. Ivhart obeyed Brax’s suggestion to boost the older woman to the stirrup then boosted her higher to slide her leg over. Then Dunstan and Granny headed for Mulgrum with a jarring trot.
And they continued walking, passing fields and pastures with sheep and cows, distant outbuildings, occasionally distant farmhouses and barns still standing. The monster had concentrated its efforts beside the road. At the next farm near the road, both house and barn were on the ground. No animals stood in the corral near the broken barn. No family stood back from the house and bemoaned their losses. The second and third farms were the same.
At the fourth farm by the road, the house and barn were destroyed, but animals stood in the corral. When they approached, two plow horses poked their heads over the fence rail. Desora scratched under their chins. The horses followed them along the corral fence while Ivhart ran to see if anyone was about the place.
He came back with an ashen look. “I think the family had sheltered in the house when the monster attacked. Woman tried to climb out a window. Wall broke in two right there. Trapped her in the frame. She’s dead.”
Desora felt sick. She turned away from the house and focused on the horses.
Brax found a rope hanging from a corral post. He halved it with his sharp boot knife then fashioned halters for each plow horse. He gave Ivhart one halter. “You ride in front. Horst behind you.” Using a fence rail, the young ranger swung up then reached down a hand for the Kyrgy.
Horst crossed his arms. He stood proud, head tilted back, his silver hair streaming down his back. “I will not ride with that man.”
“You will,” Brax said.
“You are a mere man. You dare to give orders to a Kyrgy lord?”
“A Kyrgy lord who chose to be a sorcerer’s ally,” Brax retorted. “You know I will tell this to Maorn Harte. How will he judge you, Lord Horst?”
The Kyrgy didn’t answer. His black eyes bored into Brax.
“Help us now,” Desora urged gently although she wanted to speak with Brax’s growling rage. “Help us now, and we will not tell Lord Harte every single one of your betrayals.”
He snorted. “I did not betray you.”
“You allied with a sorcerer. You had the sorcerer send his wyre to attack us. That’s two,” Brax counted off. “Ensorcelled gobbers attacked us. I doubt that sorcerer knew where we were. You had to tell him.”
“How did I know where you were? In all the Wilding, how would I monitor the location of the poor mortals on a fool’s errand to attack that monster? I cared only that it left my Wilding.”
“You knew the trail the monster had taken and that we followed it. You knew what trail we were on to reach Mount Selinnia. You drove that ogre out of the Trantorr caves to attack us. He came straight in our direction. With time, I will no doubt remember additional actions that we can lay at your feet.”
“I helped you fight the monster,” he countered. “At my palace, I stood side by side with this wielder to fight it.”
“And you will help us again,” Desora said. “Thus, we ensure you will reach Mulgrum.”
“I have lost two score riders to that monster. I have lost all my knights and dames.”
“You have Ivhart here.”
The young ranger made a sound of protest, quickly cut off. He looked at Desora. She thought regret darkened his eyes, but perhaps that was merely the first sign of his binding to the Kyrgy.
“Ivhart is not bound to me.”
“I believe Maorn Harte would disagree. We shall ask him, shall we? After we defeat this monster. Get on the horse.”
Ivhart stretched down a hand. Horst took it. He didn’t need a boost to reach the stirrup. He swung up easily behind the ranger.
Brax helped Desora up, then he quickly mounted behind her. She handed over the reins as his arms encircled her. “We go,” he said and toed the plow horse into movement.
They saw more destroyed farms as they neared the village, always the buildings beside the road. A few people stood staring at the catastrophe that had struck their lives. Women wept. Children looked stunned. Men cursed. Too often those few people had injuries. They clutched broken arms or used a crutch to keep weight off a bound leg.
The distant roofs of the village appeared first as low clouds of faint sooty smoke. Then they saw the chimneys, all different heights, taller than the trees in the windbreaks and the trees shading the road’s verge.
They found Granny and Teyja at a house directly beside the road. Wooden steps led up to the porch off the front. Behind it, the cottage was destroyed, roof dropped onto broken walls. Flowering bushes had stood beside the door. They were ripped out and thrown onto the broken roof. Granny knelt over a youth on his back, with Teyja clutching the youth’s hand. A man and a woman hovered behind.
Granny looked up as they stopped, but she quickly waved them on. “Dunstan is ahead of you. Go to the village. That thing must be in the village by now.”
They didn’t question what she meant, merely urged their horses to resume a trot.
When the village buildings appeared, they could see no damage. “Did it not—?” Desora broke off when she heard faint screams.
They rode faster, as fast as the plow horses were willing to go.
The monster had followed the main road into the village. It had kicked stalls apart, thrown carts and wagons into shops and stores. One cart looked wedged into an upper window. It had ripped off balconies, shoved up eaves, torn off berge boards. People lay dead among the destruction. Others screamed with their injuries. Many lay too broken to scream. Those unhurt moved slowly, overwhelmed by the widespread pain. A few stood or sat, stunned and unmoving.
They trailed the path of destruction through the village. At the end of the main road was the village longhouse. The monster was there, pummeling the long timbers that formed the sturdy walls. It had ripped off the porch, torn out windows, prised up the roof corners.
No myst of sorcery surrounded it.
Behind it, clustered together, too stunned to be aware of their danger, stood the village elders. They held pitchforks and rakes, axes and spades, useless against the monster.
Challoch, Serre, Ferrac, and Dunstan also stood there, well back from the monster. The rangers had arrows nocked. They looked relieved when Desora and Brax, Horst and Ivhart rode up and slid off the plow horses, releasing them to head back down the road and hopefully to their home stables.
“What have you tried?” Brax asked.
Challoch grimaced. “Nothing. Nothing we can try although Serre and Ferrac shot a few arrows when that cloud around it dissipated. We tried to lure it back out of the village. It ignored us, and we were right in front of its path. When the cloud dissipated, we tried again, but it was deep in Mulgrum then and tearing up whatever it could.”
The loss of the myst drew Desora’s attention away from the monster’s determined punching at the longhouse walls. “The myst—when did it dissipate?”
“A little time ago. Before Dunstan came.”
“When the sorcerer died?” Brax asked.
“The sorcerer’s dead? Good oh,” Ferrac said. “Thanks be to Lord Horst.”
“Not thanks to Horst. He had allied with the sorcerer.”
As one, the three rangers and the guard moved a few steps away from the Kyrgy and Ivhart beside him.
“What happened when the myst disappeared?”
“It landed with a thud. Got angry then and started kicking and throwing whatever it got its hands on.” Serre looked sick, and Ferrac visibly gagged. “Couple of people didn’t realize its arms could extend.”
Brax edged closer to her. “What do you want to do, Desora?”
“Lure it out of Mulgrum. That field over there.”
“It won’t be lured,” Challoch repeated.
“When it has a chance to attack the two people who hurt it with fire spheres and rock spheres, it will be lured.”
“Dangerous,” Brax murmured but began giving orders.
Desora moved to Horst. “You will throw fire spheres with me?”
“You volunteered me for this. Your man has threatened me should I refuse to help. You know that monster can easily kill us.”
“You will be safe,” she reassured him. “You heard my bargain. Not all of your betrayals will we tell Maorn Harte.” She didn’t know how much threat a Lucent Fae offered to a Dark Fae, but she was willing to use whatever edge she had.
He grimaced then nodded.
Then he turned to face the monster. His hands moved quickly. Fire spheres formed. He threw them simultaneously.
The spheres crashed onto the back of the monster’s head. The flames reached around to the walls then died away. The monster didn’t pause its attack on the walls.
“Again,” Desora ordered and shaped her rock spheres, making them as heavy as she could.
Two more fiery spheres flew. They hit the monster’s shoulders, left and right. The pummeling of walls stopped. It half-turned and looked around. At the elders.
No. It needed to focus on them, not on old men. Desora threw her rock spheres.
One hit the monster’s wrist. The other hit its head.
That blockish head tilted sideways. The monster righted its head slowly. Then it turned fully around. It no longer looked at the elders. It looked at Desora, with Horst beside her.
A fiery sphere hit between its eyes. They had lost that early sickly green gleam and were fiery red. The color was lost in the flames.
It batted at its face.
Desora flung a rock sphere, striking its chest.
The monster took a step toward them.
It was lured. Now it had to follow them.
