Crusader

Chapter 34

“GET OFF!” A shriek echoed through Cyrus’s ears as a chill sensation returned to his limbs and he saw a flash of movement in front of his now-opening eyes. Aisling moved above him, her blades a dance of motion as she cut through three of the scourge beasts and kicked another so hard it flew through the air and into its fellows. Cyrus felt blood dripping out of his armor but realized his skin was intact, his flesh renewed, and looked up to see Curatio, far in the distance, beyond a solid wall of the scourge, a hundred of them separating him from the healer and the others. He jumped to his feet in a well-practiced move and his blade was already out.

Cyrus heard the familiar whinny behind him and saw Windrider lift up and kick, stomping three of the creatures to death with rapidity, then back away from them to form a tight circle with Cyrus and Aisling. A wave of flame was burning through the flank of the scourge, the wall of beasts separating Cyrus and Aisling from the rest of the Sanctuary force.

“There seem to be an awful lot of them,” Cyrus said, clutching Praelior and raking a circle around him, killing a half-dozen of the creatures as they began to surge in on all sides. “Not sure we can fight this many.”

“Just you and I against the world?” Aisling asked with a hint of amusement. “I pity the world.” Windrider whinnied, drawing Cyrus’s attention to his neck, where stains of blood remained on his hide. “All right,” Aisling conceded, “us four.” She turned her head and attacked three of the beasts that came at her, her daggers a blur of motion, and there was a shriek as her horse was pulled to the ground, the creatures swarming over it, tearing it apart while Cyrus and Aisling fought off their advance. “Us three,” she amended. “But they’ll pay for that. That was the best horse I’ve ever stolen.”

Cyrus flicked Praelior out in a defensive line around him as three of the scourge jumped at him, and he cleaved them neatly in two before taking the heads off two more that came at him. “Remind me to remonstrate you for thieving later.”

“I might forget,” she said with a smirk. “I’ve never been much for sermons, especially from a man whose life I just saved. That was some damnably clumsy riding on your part. Why’d you pick now to fall off your horse?”

“That was no accident,” Cyrus said. “Terian cut Windrider’s throat and cursed me.”

“What?” she cried as one of the scourge leapt for her. Cyrus swung his sword and clipped the beast, sending it to the ground in a heap. They stood side by side, Windrider behind them, still stomping in a frenzy, keeping the creatures from pulling him down as they had Aisling’s horse. Cyrus watched the hooves land on another one of the scourge and cringed at the sight of its skull caving in, no blood oozing from it, instead a thick, black liquid puddled underneath the unmoving creature. “Why would he do something like that?”

“You remember that sword you brought me? From that dark knight I killed on the bridge in Termina?” Cyrus’s gauntlet caught the bite of a scourge, and he twisted it, breaking the creature’s teeth as he jammed his sword down its throat then threw the corpse away.

“Yeah? Oh. Oh! OH! That was his father? The dark knight?”

“Apparently.”

“Oh, wow.” Aisling slung her blades in a perfect arc, catching another one of the beasts as it attacked her. Her dagger ended up buried in its head, and her hand moved like lightning, catching it with three more thrusts along the neck and flank as it dropped. “Whoops.”

“That doesn’t quite cover it.”

“It’ll have to do until we get out of here.” Aisling’s back bumped against his, and Cyrus felt her push against him as the circle around them tightened. Cyrus looked to the side and saw Curatio and the others falling back, the numbers overwhelming them. Mendicant cast another spell, and a fireball flew toward them as Cyrus ducked out of instinct. It flew past and landed in a thick knot of scourge, exploding and sending bodies and limbs flying in all directions.

“What the hell was that?” Aisling cried. “Is that goblin trying to add us to the corpse pile?”

“No,” Cyrus said and pointed to where the fireball had impacted, “look!” He pointed, and only a few feet-and twenty or so scourge away-Mendicant had cleared a path for them. Beyond was open ground to the west, heading toward a mountain in the distance, but it was a long ways off, with plenty of room to outrun the scourge-

“Windrider,” Cyrus said, but the horse was already kicking and bucking, making his way toward the open ground. “We’ll only have a moment here,” Cyrus said to Aisling, “you need to get on the horse first.”

“Fine,” she said tightly and was gone, already slipping into the saddle, “but get your sweet ass moving, will you?”

“I will,” he said, and tensed himself. With a deep breath that lasted only a second, he let out a bellowing warcry that echoed through the mountain pass and charged forward, blade in motion, clearing the way for Windrider and Aisling to pass. His sword moved with the fluid grace he had come to expect after so many battles with it at his side. The scourge seemed to move slowly, unable to keep up with his speed but overwhelming in numbers. His blade found target after target, casting the bodies aside, damaged or dead. He kept going, heard the horse at his back, until he cut the last of them down and broke free to open ground and he felt Windrider thunder along beside him. He hoisted himself up, sliding onto the back of the horse behind Aisling and they galloped away, thousands of the creatures following in their wake.