A Soldier's Life - 232 - No Rest for the Wicked

Chapter 232: No Rest For The Wicked

The creature’s mandibles helped its grotesque maw slurp up Rusty’s viscera. With the creature standing at over ten feet and almost as wide, I was not going to be able to move a large volume. My dimensional space was crowded, so I settled on a decent sized mass, targeting the head, and getting its brain.

Its clawed arm reached down and pulled up an intestine, pulling it into its mouth, pulling it inside like slurping spaghetti. I couldn’t take it anymore and moved in to slay the horror. Its claw was lightning quick, but I never got close enough for it to reach me as I removed part of its brain. It had a stronger resistance than I expected, but I succeeded in the brief tug-o-war, and the claw slowed, confused. “You’re dead and just don’t know it yet,” I boasted with a grim smile, thinking my revenge for Rusty was complete.

One of the eyes was going wild as I smirked, thinking I had succeeded, but then it lunged at me. I pivoted and interposed the black spear. The spear pierced easily and sunk deep into the carapace, but when the creature turned to face me, the shaft was ripped from my hand before I could extract it. Opening some distance, I swore. “Dragon shit. Why aren’t you dead?”

The creature was having difficulty moving as I drew my black blade. The only thing I could think of was I didn’t get enough of the brain. Anatomy was not part of my Hound training, not that this creature struck any chord of familiarity from Hearne’s lessons. It walked disjointedly toward me, the black spear’s shaft swinging like a new appendage. The massive arms, each tipped in four impressive claws, swung at me clumsily as I parried and retreated.

The clang of the dark blade against its shell was not a good sign. Orc’s Torment couldn’t penetrate the hard shell as easily as the black spear. If it hadn’t been weakened and slowed by the removal of part of its brain, I might have been in trouble. It didn’t want to let me go, so I drew it further away, hoping the blue blood leaking down the spear shaft would drain its life enough to kill it.

The creature was relentless as we danced in the woods. It finally seemed to notice the spear and yanked it free with a clawed hand. It tried to snap the shaft in anger, and I was shocked when it bowed slightly before rebounding. 

After its failure to destroy the weapon, it furiously tossed away the weapon. I was unhappy to note that the hole left behind quickly congealed with blue blood, stopping its bleeding. It did give me time to circle and retrieve the discarded black spear.

The shaft was sticky with blue blood, but this weapon was capable of cutting the creature's hard shell. It once again located me and continued its pursuit of dessert. The spear was immediately effective as a slash cut removed one of its claws, surprising us both. If it had an intact brain, it might have been smart enough to run. Instead, I was able to remove more claws and poke shallow holes with the spear. The entire battle took over an hour, the beast having an impressive constitution, showering the forest floor with splatters of blue blood. I could have ended it sooner as my dimensional ability had recovered, but I was taking a perverse pleasure in tormenting the creature for killing Rusty.

When it did fall, I confirmed its death with the spear and immediately used the essence collector. The azure smoke was thick as it coalesced into a sphere. Unsurprisingly, an apex essence had formed, and its dark brown and gray swirls were a welcome sight.

As my adrenaline faded, I was able to mourn Rusty’s death. I should have trusted his instincts and ran as soon as he sensed something wrong. Standing over the mutilated horse, I apologized. “Damn it Rusty. I am sorry I let you down. You were a fine steed, and I thank you for your service.” I closed his eyes.

I drank from my canteen to replenish my fluids as I moved to climb the ridge to check on the orc fleet. Being on foot allowed me to use my earth speak spell form continuously, so at least I wouldn’t be surprised again.

The orc fleet had moved, and I counted thirty-eight ships again. I wrote in my notebook, “Orc fleet is about thirty miles south of my lookout and still sailing with thirty-eight ships. I lost my mount to a monstrosity in the woods, and I am on foot and healing from an injury.” I added the injury detail in hopes I wouldn’t have to continue following the armada.

Centurion Sergius must have had the notebook open as the response was nearly immediate. “Continue following the fleet. Hound Aesop is forty miles south of you. Join up with him and track the fleet together.”

The bastard didn’t even ask me if I was okay or what had killed Rusty—just get back to work. I had been ready to draw a picture in the book in hopes of learning what the creature was. Instead of following the fleet, I sat on the ridge and ate a burrito in mild protest. It was frustrating not knowing what was happening in the eastern part of the Empire. I was also being used as a tool by Centurion Sergius for his personal ambitions. It wouldn’t be long before I couldn’t escape doing despicable things.

I checked, and the fleet was well south of me, so I would have to get moving soon to catch up. Reluctantly, I stood and started to make my way slowly on the rocky ridge line. Using my earth speak, I found another concealed lookout about five miles further down the coast. It smelled foul, and a pool of water had rotted everything inside. It looked like the back of the cave had a clogged drain, and this post had not been manned in decades.

Leaving the cave, I turned the spyglass on the fleet. They were still a dozen miles off shore, but I was certain one of the ships had broken away from the armada and was angling toward my shore. I moved on the other side of the ridge to hide my movements as I tried to determine where the ship might land. It was still angling south, and after hours of its slow approach, it entered a small bay ahead of me.

I raced to get a good vantage point to spy from while remaining concealed. Nestled in the shadow of a rock crevice, I retrieved my spyglass and studied the ship. The sails had been drawn down, and they had anchored the ship two hundred yards from shore. The decks were busy with orc sailors and—what? A large, bald, gray-skinned man was moving crates. At first, I thought the shirtless goliath was Maveith. But getting a closer look, I saw that it was not him, and relief flooded me. Two other goliaths were on deck, moving crates to boats to be lowered.

At first, it saddened me to see the goliaths had allied with the orcs, but then an orc bashed one of the goliaths with a club for no reason I could discern. A second and third strike finished the harsh discipline. Tattooed orcs joined the sailors on deck as they prepared the two rowboats. The goliaths served as rowers, and nine tattooed orcs entered the boats. I assumed this was an orc Pathfinder squad by their armor and weapons.

There was nothing of importance nearby, so setting them ashore here made no sense. My best guess was they were to serve as a lookout for a Telhian fleet coming behind them and trapping them in the bay. But as far as I knew, the Telhian Empire only had a handful of warships. The two rowboats landed, and the goliaths began to unload the crates far up the shore. At least the Pathfinders were not as cruel as the sailors to the goliaths.

I wrote in my book, “The orcs have set a Pathfinder team ashore about twenty-five miles north of Aesop’s position. Counting nine.”

I was half expecting Centurion Sergius to order me to kill the entire squad. Thankfully, he did not when he responded an hour later. “They are here to hunt Hounds. Avoid them. Circle around and connect with Aesop. Move to the inlet of the Varvao River and see what the war fleet is doing there.”

Two orc Pathfinders started climbing the ridge, and I started to pulse earth speak and consumed the apex earth essence, extending my range further by a few feet. They were going to cut off my route south, but there were only two of them. I continued to watch, waiting for complete darkness to move out of my concealment. Surprisingly, the row boats returned and began to load for a second trip, as a fourth goliath worked the hoists on deck to lower more crates. It appeared the orcs were setting up a permanent station.

My earth speak revealed the approach of one of the pathfinders scouting above me. He shouldn’t be able to see into my dark crevice. As the sun set, I switched to my night vision goggles and waited for an opportunity to slip away. It didn’t come as the spotter settled in above me under the cover of some rock formations. The or yelled something in orcish above me, and a third orc climbed up to take watch from another viewpoint.

I was not going to be able to sneak away, and Neptune’s Tear was going to be bright tonight with the perfectly clear sky. I started to slide and hug the rocks as I moved quietly back. With earth speak’s range over forty feet, I could see the Pathfinder, but he couldn’t see me. Rather than risk an alarm, I got behind him and took his head, bottoming out my aether, but improved my odds of leaving unnoticed. Just one more sentry, and I should be able to make down the ridge and into the woods unnoticed.

With the aether collector generating strong aetheric blue light, I couldn’t risk using it at night. I could wait for my aether to replenish and take the entire body, but right now, I was hoping to escape unnoticed.

I couldn’t see the next sentry with my night vision goggles, but he was out of my earth speak’s range. Maybe he was scouting down into the woods already. I was at a higher position and had a better view of the beach. The goliaths were unloading the second shipment of crates under the light of the moon, and I guessed there was a cave in the bay below where they disappeared into the cliff face. I began to scuttle over the top of the ridge, and a heavy arrow thudded into my hip.

I kept in a scream as I moved lower for cover. The third orc across the bay had spotted me and was alerting his companions below with yells in his language. Of course, the orcs had a way to see me in the dark. Otherwise, they wouldn’t make good night sentries. I could hear the scrambling below and more orcs coming to join my penthouse party. At least the ship was anchored two hundred yards from shore, and I didn’t see any additional small boats coming from the ship.

Short clips of the orc language rang out in the night as I worked the arrow out and used purify self to cleanse the orc’s poison before healing the wound. The poison was a type of slow-working paralytic, causing my muscles to contract. My aether had barely recovered, and now I was empty again.

This, being my third fight in less than a day, just reinforced my current string of bad luck. I had eight orcs remaining and they all had an idea of where I was. I couldn’t let them encircle me and close in. I needed to move while they thought I was incapacitated.

I dashed along an exposed summit, hearing an arrow strike and shatter on a rock nearby. I got around a large stone to find a surprised orc with a bow. In quick motion, my Hound dagger was in my hand as I tackled him, riding him to the ground. The bastard was strong, but he wasn’t prepared for a dagger being shoved under his chin. 

I rolled away, yanking the blade free to cause as much damage as possible. Even though I reached the brain, in a world with magical healing, you needed to make sure you did sufficient damage so they couldn’t be healed by others. I also knew the Pathfinders carried lesser healing potions.

I reached the rise and raced down the rocky slope into the forest. The orc Pathfinders were not giving up as stone clattered behind me as they descended in a run as well, communicating with each other is short phrases as they spread out. After a mile of sprinting among the trees, I squatted behind a large oak to listen.

The Pathfinders had slowed and gone silent as well. I thought racing recklessly through the woods at night could be dangerous with the other horrors out here, but if I could get enough aether, my earth speak would be invaluable right now. I was using most of the aether I was recovering to keep the night-sight goggles working. I could see two orcs coming toward me, scanning the woods and I silently drew Orc’s Torment, letting them come to me.

As they passed my tree, I took the one on the left. He only had his bow in hand, and he tried to roll away. My blade bit deep into his hip, and the pain from the moderate cut surprised him. He unleashed a pained wail. 

I did not have a lot of time before the remaining orcs would be closing in. The other orc had discarded his bow and drew a short sword, rushing me. I threw my dagger at him to slow him down, not expecting it to kill him as I heard it thud into his body. 

I turned to finish the other crippled orc who tried to roll away. I scored a slash of his thigh and then pierced his unprotected groin. His trembling hands were fumbling with his belt, and my final slash was across his face, crunching bone and digging deep and silencing his wails. 

I turned quickly on the other orc to find him struggling with the dagger in his throat. I couldn’t tell if my luck was terrible today or great as he must have ducked to avoid the projectile, only to take it in the throat. The orcbane finished off my fourth orc and I sought cover as an arrow thudded near my feet. 

The odds were still not in my favor, being five to one, but I decided finishing off the Pathfinders was the best course of action for my survival. I was going to start with this annoying archer. Once I recovered a little aether…

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