The Shattered Path

Chapter 41 - The Wizard

A thunderous boom resonated through the village. Aryl cringed, turning with wide eyes to see a cottage blown apart in a great ball of flame. Nearby beastmen and Merthian defenders twirled high into the smoky sky along with fiery debris.

"Bloody Dark!" exclaimed Jaegor, stumbling three steps backwards. A flaming timber landed two paces from his feet; and his boots.

"There!" Aryl shouted excitedly, pointing to the left of the flames. Charred debris and cinders still dropped to the ground around them.

The Raujornian moved swiftly, emerging from the flames unharmed. Over his shoulder, he carried a thin woman in blue. Aryl knew that had to be her; the young woman he had saved. The one he could not stop thinking about.

"We have to save her," Aryl urged, taking a step in that direction then abruptly turned to face Aerham.

"How do we know he isn't saving her?" Aerham questioned.

That was so like Aerham. Sometimes Aryl wished he would just make assumptions like a normal person. Did he have to always question everything? Did he always have to do what was right?

"No," Maeshana decided. "The brajah must not take the Tsaeris'Aen."

"Exactly," Aryl agreed and shrugged before Aerham could ask if he even knew what that meant. "We must save her." He thought that is what the Tael had said.

"Beasties!" Jaegor shouted, firing arrows in the opposite direction.

Five beastmen charged towards them, illuminated by the orange glow of a burning cottage. One dropped with an arrow protruding from his chest. Even drunk, Jaegor was deadly with his bow.

"Bloody Dark! Hit the wrong one!" The scout cursed.

Aryl felt a smile twist his face. It was a strange feeling to want to laugh in such a situation.

"He is warded in a manner I have never seen," Maeshana stated calmly. She still watched the Raujornian. "I cannot take him from the Veil."

"Barricade of the Fallen King?" Aerham suggested, never looking away from the four charging beastmen.

"Aye," Aryl responded.

It was a simple defensive stance, designed for two swordsmen. It was most effective against charging opponents. Aryl remembered practicing it with Beuthis standing over them, never letting them rest until it had been performed perfectly. They would stand close together and parry attacks for one another; one focusing high and the other low. It was a risky stance and required absolute faith in your companion's abilities. Aryl had always taken the low parries, standing on the left. It was how they had practiced it so many times. Oh, so many times.

The first beastman showed no indication that he would slow. It intended to run over them. The spear thrust came low at Aerham. Aryl's blade deftly smacked it aside and Aerham sidestepped to bring his forearm high and connect with the brown-furred creature's throat. Its feet came forward and rose into the air, dropping it onto its back. Aryl drove his blade downward into the center of its chest. It shrieked, voice quickly fading away to silence.

Aerham was already parrying the thrust from the second beastman, who had slowed two paces away. He parried the thrust from the third beastman to his right.

Aryl parried the second beastman on its next thrust. Aerham should have held to parry the next attack from the third beastman, but he took advantage to slash the left shoulder of the second beastman. Blood spurted into the air and the creature howled.

Aryl reached across to smack away the third beastman's thrust and it only grazed Aerham's hip. Aryl wanted to chastise Aerham for forcing the attack. Barricade of the Fallen King had complex rules for who parried and thrusted and it was extremely important that both swordsmen followed them to the letter. Beuthis had made that all too clear. And Aryl had thought he had been the one bored to tears and not paying attention!