Chapter 16

Day 14:

John lay silently in the snow, just like his friends. All five of them had made camp, with a visible fire just before the sun went down. Once it was too dark to see, they’d all stuffed their blankets and wormed their way outside the fire’s light. Hal had cast an illusion on the bedrolls, making them appear occupied. The Cambion, Treb and Ranveng all slipped out onto the rocks they’d camped next to, while Sygraid and John took their position inside a snowbank on the other side. Their unanimous opinion had been that if attacked, it would be after they’d been ‘asleep’ for a couple hours.

They’d been right, unfortunately. All ten of the men from Tygus’s table crept out of the darkness to surround their campsite. The older men formed a circle, and their leader waved the younger ones to do the work. This meant that even if John’s friends had woken up, while they were occupied with the toughs, the seasoned veterans would have a chance to cut them down.

“I don’t like this.” One of the veterans near John muttered.

“Me either, but be quiet.” Another hissed.

Rather than focusing on the visible targets, they were looking around alertly. This wasn’t going to be as easy as they hoped. Five against ten was terrible odds, no matter how you sliced it. Still, they were committed now. Once the group figured out the deception, they’d quickly start searching. John and his companions would be easy targets then, taken one by one. He waited for Sygraid though. She held the trigger; she’d initiate them with her spear. Treb and Ranveng would copy her, while Hal and John moved in closer.

Just as the first assassin stabbed an empty bed, Syg punched her spear into the veteran’s back nearest her. His gurgle turned the head of John’s intended victim.

“Alder?” The man whispered, peering at his comrade.

Then John’s ax separated his head from his shoulders. His fight against the draugyr during his third Task hadn’t given him a chance to really appreciate how devastating his weapon new could be. He’d barely felt resistance as his stroke carried him past the slowly collapsing corpse. Snow and gravel crunching, he closed on the youth crouched with his back to John. The kid was just beginning to realize something was wrong when John’s reversed tomahawk spiked his back as well.

Somehow, the Tooth communicated that she’d triggered death on the assassin, causing his heart to experience instant necrosis. Hearing the Tooth’s warning look right! He spun and just managed to catch the blade plunging for his throat. His Valkyrie-supplied gauntlet protected his fingers, so he held onto the steel and hacked the new attacking kid’s arm off at the elbow. Screams of pain howled into the night as the youth stumbled backwards frantically.

John started after him, when Sygraid’s shouted, “Treb!” turned him around.

Something had gone wrong for the youth. The armor of the man facing Syg’s son bore a massive slice across his back, with blood draining down. But he was batting Treb’s spear point away repeatedly with his sword as he advanced. Fixating directly on the open wound, John flung the Tooth in desperation. His ax slammed into the unprotected spine while John transferred his over-sized knife to his right hand and scanned the darkness for his escaped foe. Smiling at his foresight, it didn’t take long to pinpoint the fleeing thug. He took a step to give chase, but paused. Another quick survey showed all of the veterans down now, as well as the other four punks.

He sheathed his knife and made his way around to check on the others. Hal was closest, cleaning his blade off with his victim’s clothing.

“Good job.” John complimented him. “Any issues?”

“None.” The half-Infernal replied. “Why did you let him go?” He pointed into the darkness.

“Missing most of his right arm, I doubt he’ll be a threat. Tonight at least. Plus, pour encourager les autres. I’m hoping he’ll tell a terrible story of how there were twenty of us and we fell on them without warning and all that.” He explained.

“I do not recognize that phrase.” Hal frowned.

“It’s from my world, means ‘to encourage the others’. In this case, a fearsome reputation may discourage anyone else.” He translated.

That’s not how that phrase is used. Mason sent.

No? I’ll be sure to remember that, then. John snarked back.

“Ah, an example of what happens to those who cross us. I approve!” Hal smiled.

John checked on Ranveng next, but the man was fine. He stood cleaning his own weapons, staring silently down at the corpses at his feet. John noticed the man’s blade and spear were nearly duplicates for Sygraid’s.

“What happened?” He heard Treb’s mother ask him as he retrieved the tomahawk.

“I slipped.” The boy panted. “He was so fast, I couldn’t ... couldn’t get him after he turned.”

“No worries, Treb.” John spoke over Sygraid. “What would’ve happened if you had thrown the spear before moving?”

Treb stared at his weapon, thinking.

“I don’t know.” He admitted. “Is that what I should’ve done?”

“Maybe.” John answered. “We can only guess, now. But if the spear’s enchantment to freeze him in place would work, even if you’re not holding the haft, it’s something to consider.”

“That would not work for mine.” Syg informed him.

“Yeah, but as good as the Dvergyr enchantments are,” John held up the Tooth, “the dragon ones are better.”

Syg shook her shield, smiling. “Agreed.”

They worked quickly to search and dispose of the bodies so they could get some sleep before dawn. Most of the men’s armor was better (and nicer) than what they wore, but a little heavier. John, Treb and Ranveng took advantage of their opponents’ similar height to take the new armor for themselves. They kept their old sets, intending to dispose of them once they’d returned to the End. Sygraid was too tall, and Hal sniffed derisively when they offered him his pick of the spoils. They bundled the rest up and cached it a short distance away. Ranveng left a mark that he said another Warden would understand.

All of their attackers were carrying enchanted blades. The younger ones each carried two, or even three all covered with Death runes. The older ones had carried swords all, with slicing and piercing runes. When he saw those, he thanked his lucky stars he hadn’t tried to grab one of them during the fight! He probably would’ve lost a few fingers at best, maybe his whole hand. Everyone took a sword and several knives. Even if they didn’t know the blades’ names, they were still extremely valuable.

“Even if we cannot ask Dard,” Sygraid commented, “another Dvergyr smith might be able to converse with them.”

“Damn!” Ranveng said, realizing. “Even I cannot go back to the fort. Tygus will know I have seen who attacked us. He cannot let me live, now! One or two he could claim acted on their own, but not his entire war-band.”

“Well, shit.” John mused. “Guess I shouldn’t have let him get away.”

“I must return, and warn the others before Tygus moves against them.” Ranveng announced.

“How many are there in the tower?” John asked.

“Ten, no eleven are left.”