Diffraction

Chapter Twenty-Four: Hammer and Sword

"I am not able to confirm either way. But I suspect his goals go far beyond a simple rescue effort."

The passage curved downward, deeper into the hillside, much like the entrance to the cavern. Josephine let gravity do its work, hastening her steady jog. This time we need not worry to be silent. They know we're coming. The longer we wait, the longer they have to prepare.

The path opened to a large cavern that served as a barracks, with enough beds of hay and fabric for all the Maul they'd slain and more. A smoldering firepit sat in the center of the room beneath a dark chimney shaft in the ceiling. Though the Maul lair seemed chaotic and disorganized, no blood or bones littered this room. Clearly intended for warmth, not cooking.

Torches provided some dim light, but Kristophe's light-rod brightened the room and threw long shadows across the floor and walls. Another door of thick, sturdy wood beams stood in an inset tunnel at the opposite end of the chamber, twin bronze braziers offering firelight on each side of the door.

Josephine heard muffled voices and approached. A human voice? The other companions closed in behind her.

"Mighty Grunnash," a man said, deference obvious in his tone, "your soldiers charged, but powerful magics crushed them in the tunnels, burnt them to cinders. I came to give you warning. Enemies assault your hold."

"You scurried from a fight, Pinkskin," a deep, coarse voice growled. "You came to save your worthless life."

"Now, Grunnash, I—wait—" the man stammered. "I'm an emissary of Kal, a liaison between your powerful Maul band and our men. Stop, you can't—"

The human shrieked and went silent. A thud echoed on the other side of the door.

Grunnash called out. "Visitors to my abode, I smell your soft tasty flesh. Come."

Shield raised for protection, Josephine opened the door in gradual increments, watching for any treachery. She took cautious steps, surveying the room, followed by the other five companions with weapons ready. Even Kris has his sword out—for what reason I can't say.

The largest Maul in the cave stood in full black plate armor with an ebony shield strapped to his left arm. His right hand held a giant sledge resting across his broad shoulders like a long war hammer that would have required two hands for any human to wield. Dad's accounts of the Maul described creatures in skins and hides, relying on strength of numbers, armed with patchwork weapons built for cruelty. Where are they getting fitted armor and quality weapons?

A human corpse lay at his feet. The crumpled form seemed odd to Josephine until she noted that the body folded like paper—feet and shoulders both pointed toward the entrance.

Josephine shuddered at the thought. Good riddance to Kal's representative, even if that's a terrifying way to die. But focus on the slain guards. Remember your rage at injustice. Be strong for others. With the familiar meditation, she flared her Mark, sending out waves of inspiration toward her companions, Pulsing a sustaining strength and the desire for vengeance upon evil.

Grunnash's eyes flicked to the golden light of her Gracebrand, and he sneered.

Four other Maul took defensive positions around the room—two near the black-clad brute, two toward the back of the room near a crude altar. The two at the rear held shortbows, already nocked and drawn, arrows aimed for the companions. Before the altar, hunched over and supporting herself with a staff, an old female Maul stood draped in a long silver cloak. Her robe bore a symbol of flame, the emblem of Kurnn, Daemon of Chaos. Long black banners hanging beside the altar held the same sign.