Stormcaller (Book 1) (5 page)

“Something is wrong,” said Juzo. He started pacing beside Walter and pushed a hand through his gray-streaked hair.

“Yeah,” replied Walter distantly. Walter stood erect, processing the scene.

Juzo was sick. I feel fine, Nyset looks fine
,
Walter thought. He sought Nyset’s parents and found them watching the chaos unfolding. Mrs. Camfield’s mouth hung open and she covered her ears through her thin auburn hair. Mr. Camfield held his arms around her, pulling her close and leading her through the door of an empty bakery with a sign made to look like a three-dimensional loaf of bread.
They seem less concerned than Juzo.

The joyous sounds of merriment dwindled to a gagging horror. Walter saw his father clutching a tall flagpole with one hand and looking like he was about to erupt. The orange flag with an embroidered phoenix undulated violently in an extraordinary gale.

It was the food
, Walter thought.
Casey? No, he could never.

He scanned the cook station and discovered the chef rubbing his hands together, his back against the wall, half of his face cast in shadow. His eyes furiously darted back and forth, wearing a sickening scowl. His tongue lolled from the corner of his mouth and red liquid streamed from it. Over the din of the townsfolk vomiting, Walter heard the distinctive pounding of hoof beats in the near distance.
Or is that my heart?

“Boys! It’s time to put your training to the test!” roared Noah from behind them.
It was real. There are horses coming?
Walter hadn’t noticed his master move beside them as he tried to absorb the shock of the sight.
Not good. Stay sharp.

Noah brandished a braided steel combat lash in his right hand, and snatched a throwing dagger from the game table in the other. “Get daggers, boys,” he commanded. Noah turned his head to the side and retched, and then wiped his mouth. He scowled in Casey’s direction and hurled his blade with a large arc, gracefully passing over the heads of bystanders. It slammed through the chef’s right forearm, pinning him to the cook-station wall. The man emitted a high-pitched shriek and glared in seemingly random directions. He attempted to remove the dagger, but gave up, and sagged to his bottom with his bloody arm outstretched overhead. Noah snatched another dagger from the table.

Juzo growled and strapped on his training lash from his pack. “Finally, a real test,” he said. He tightly cinched the now deflated satchel strap to his back, eyes resolute.

“What are you waiting for, Walt?” Juzo punched his arm with enough force to inflict a bruise. Walter shot him an incredulous stare. His lips trembled and there was an unfamiliar pain in his chest. He started taking rapid breaths, and dropped onto one knee. He stared into the dirt containing his and Nyset’s narrow footprints. “Get it together,” he whispered.
For her, for everyone, this is what you’re made for.
He regained control over his breathing, feeling his pulse calm. He wiped his hand across his forehead as if praying to the Dragon and stood tall.

“What is this?” asked Walter of no one in particular.

“This is an invasion,” said Noah grimly. “Those hoof beats are war horses. Fight well, boys – to me!”

Walter hastily strapped on his training lash and wielded a throwing dagger. He met his father’s eyes as a hail of thick, black, jagged arrows started raining death around them. Many missed people and pierced inanimate objects, but some found homes in bodies of townsfolk.

The horror of sickness gelled with the terror of the hard reality that they were under attack. People screamed and fled in varied directions, unsure of the source of the attack. Walter and Juzo jogged, following Noah.

A refreshing cool gale from the sea washed over them, causing fires to dance wildly. At least a dozen other Breden Sid-Ho warriors appeared from patrolling the perimeter, with lashes and various weapons in off-hands. One had taken up a machete, another a hand-axe, and another a long spear. They wore the traditional Breden guard armor consisting of a cuirass, greaves, gauntlets, and small pauldrons to maximize mobility, yet still provide protection against piercing weapons.

The hoof beats revealed their source. Dark fully armored figures on horseback poured into the square, fanning in all directions. A terrible roar like a hoarse lion echoed through the plaza. Walter and Juzo turned to each other, exchanging looks of terror. “Be strong – focus!” said Noah. Walter clenched his jaw.

The riders gave no quarter, plunging long spears through civilians with hands raised. Screams of panic became cries of agony. The attackers’ thick furs fluttered behind them and wrapped their upper chests. Walter found Warrior’s Focus disturbingly easy to slip into. Ragged emotions melted away like snow on the first day of Spring and time slowed. His visual perception clarified the palette of chaos into individual, succinct events.

Walter found his father’s azure eyes as he fled. Time lagged and an arrow pierced the soft tissue of Aiden’s neck. Blood pumped from his severed carotid artery, and the arrow landed resolutely in the body of the enormous phoenix. Walter’s Warrior’s Focus shattered like broken glass.

Aiden crumpled to the soft earth. Walter dropped his dagger and screamed, breaking off from Noah and Juzo, “Dad! No!” He reached his father and placed his free hand over the gaping wound, Aiden’s life essence fruitlessly spurting around it. Juzo came up behind him, tearing sheets from his clothing. He stuffed the cloth strips under Walter’s hand to make a better seal on the wound, but it was too large. The arrow with its jagged spines was designed for creating the largest wound channel without compromising accuracy.

“Your mother… she’s home,” Aiden gasped. The light dulled in his eyes and he exhaled his final breath. Walter slowly rose to his feet. He clawed at his face with his red hands, raking bloody lines down his cheeks. Tears swelled and ran thin lines down his red-streaked face. He was about to wipe his tears to clear his vision, before realizing his hands were covered with his father’s blood. Juzo untucked his shirt and used the extra material to rub Walter’s hands clean. Juzo then held a hand to Walter’s shoulder and scanned the scene as Walter stared at what was once his vibrant father.

“There’s nothing we can do now, we have to go, we’re going to be OK.” Juzo’s voice wavered.

The crack of Noah’s braided steel lash split the air. His lash coiled around the neck of a dark rider under his helm, pulling him backwards from his large gelding seconds before he could skewer a small girl who motionlessly cried, staring into the void. Wearing full plate armor, the rider landed hard on his neck and upper back, the impact disarming him. He then incredibly kicked up to his feet, and reached for his weapon.
No man can move like that wearing full plate armor
,
Noah thought.

Noah interrupted the reach by binding his arm with the lash. “Not so fast!” He pulled savagely, drawing the man stumbling towards him. The rider emitted a guttural roar that made the hair on Noah’s arms rise.
This isn’t a man
, he realized. As the rider stumbled towards Noah, he detected the distinctive hiss of a sword being drawn. Noah charged before the dull short sword could be fully drawn from its ebony scabbard, and rammed the off-hand throwing dagger into his enemy’s neck.

When the rider fell, its helm rolled away revealing the face of a humanoid creature with a massive lower jaw bearing the teeth of a shark. Its eyes glowed like coals, as if burning from within. Its skin was thin, as if painted on sinewy flesh. “Cerumal! Here? It can’t be!” Noah said.

Walter and Juzo steeled themselves for combat. “We can do this,” whispered Juzo.

“We take him.” Juzo pointed to a Cerumal on foot who had just stomped an elderly woman’s skull with his boot, sending a splash of gore onto a child’s Phoenix kite.

Walter nodded solemnly.

“For Father!” he shouted.

They sprinted into the fray, roaring in unison. Juzo executed Blades in the Breeze, spinning and using the momentum to deliver a punishing strike, which hardly grazed the thick plate armor. Training lashes didn’t have the range or penetrating tips that combat lashes came equipped with.

“Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Pathetic,” the creature growled. Juzo stared at the abomination, muscles tensing. He broke out of his stupor, just barely rolling in time to avoid being impaled by the Cerumal’s wide-tipped spear. Walter’s lash snared the dark apparition’s arm, causing it to focus on him. Juzo hurled his throwing dagger with a scream. It flashed in the moonlight, reflecting a nearby fire. It dinged loudly, bouncing off the plate covering the creature’s chest.

The Cerumal jerked Walter towards him with remarkable strength, using the lash’s binding against him. He struck Walter’s face with an armored backhand, filling the boy’s vision with blinding white pain. Walter collapsed to the ground and his nostrils filled with kicked-up dirt.
So much pain, unbearable pain. I need to get up.
He opened his eyes to watch as the rider lanced Juzo’s leg with its black spear. Juzo screamed, “Help!” and clutched the spear impaling his thigh, bracing it.

Hassan, the Captain of the Guard, came from nowhere and cleaved the head from the Cerumal with his longsword. “Die, creature!” he bellowed. “There’s too many of them, boys, you have to go! Run!” he screamed. The body of the Cerumal slumped to the ground, thick viscous blood oozing from where its head had been.

Walter knew he was standing on the razor’s edge of a cusp. He had to get up and live, or die on the dirt.
So much pain.
He made the only choice he could. He rose and stumbled to Juzo, vision slightly blurred. Walter wrapped his hand around the spear shaft. “Get ready,” he said. Juzo nodded frantically. Walter ripped the spear from Juzo’s leg, blood bubbling from the gaping wound. He gathered Juzo over his shoulders and skirted the plaza’s edge, away from the horrors of battle.

He lurched into the darkness, away from his dying friends and family. He turned back one last time to see Noah fall, three spears piercing his weakened body. Juzo groaned, “What are you doing? Coward! We have to fight…fight…” He drifted into unconsciousness. Walter made his way to a large brown gelding with a white mane, fortunately still tied to a pole by its lead rope.

Noah is dead. What else can we possibly do now that he’s been killed? This is right,
Walter told himself. He loaded Juzo onto the horse and cautiously mounted it, his balance still not quite right from the head blow. Juzo grunted as he was placed. A long trail of blood now flowed down his pants and to the tip of his boot. He needed to be bandaged soon or he would perish. Walter tapped the gelding with his heel to urge it into moving.

He looked over his shoulder, trusting instinct, and gasped at seeing the gnarled horror from earlier at his house. It wasn’t more than twenty paces away with its long, bladed talons outstretched, and spade-like helm covering its eyes. Closer now, he could see the creature was female. It wore jagged stone-like armor over the bust. The armor had spines creeping away from the main body, like the arms of a starfish about a hand long. The pain in his head magnified as his pulse raged through his chest. “Go, go, move!” He started rapidly driving his heels into the horse’s flanks.

The monster shrieked and started sprinting, transitioning from what might have been the posture of a stalking animal. Walter screamed in panic, overwhelmed by the nightmare manifested in reality. He booted the gelding as hard as he could. “Run, boy, run! Run! Run!” he screamed. Walter dropped his body low, bracing the horse and Juzo with all of his strength as it transitioned into a gallop. Walter looked back ten seconds later to see the creature falling behind. He felt an iota of tension slacken from his contracted muscles. He closed his eyes and ducked his head against the horse’s thick neck.

The creature with gnarled skin screeched and stopped in its tracks. It forcibly thrust both of its hands in their direction, palms open. A dozen or more of the barbed spines ejected from its armor, barraging Walter. One landed in the horse’s hindquarters, causing it to squeal in pain and gallop faster. Another lodged in Walter’s shoulder, its uneven edges emerging from both sides of it. Walter yelled in pain, fresh tears pooling in his eyes. He looked at the barb jutting from his shoulder, but thought better of trying to remove it without proper bandages.
Shouldn’t have ripped the spear from Juzo’s leg, stupid!

He looked back again. The brown-skinned creature seemed to be staring in his direction, but stood its ground where it had stopped, fading in the distance. The gelding’s hooves reverberated in the silence of the Mission Road. Walter sobbed onto Juzo’s back and the horse’s neck. His body quivered with each sob, and interspersed between sobs he started laughing. He led the horse to his parents’ house, where he promptly fell from the beast with a thud, collapsing from the mental and physical exhaustion.

Chapter 5 – Choices