Company Unknown 4, page 15
I and all the others nearby went from balled to kneeling. Except for a change in posture, there wasn’t any difference. All thought of doing anything besides finding a way to keep alive was gone. I desperately wanted to claw my hot armor off, but such energy left along with the sweat flooding from every pore.
Unlike his sucking in of the warmth, releasing it did not hold Dregnox’s attention or mobility. He casually strode over me, whistling the same mocking tune I had before. His massive sword rose directly over my neck.
“I’d ask for any last words, but I really don’t give a crap what some half-breed Gaelkini whelp has to say,” Dregnox said.
“How about ‘bye’?”
My words were brave, yet my lethargically raised arm in defense was anything but. My mind wanted to keep me alive, but my body wanted only water. Still, the almost random choice of banter had the desired effect: Dregnox found meaning where there was none and paused his swing to turn. There shouldn’t have been anyone behind him, but there very much was.
Warham had honored her new leader’s order to not get involved on his behalf. Coming to the aid of the other side was another matter. Her whip/mace did almost no damage when it crashed against the thick bone between Dregnox’s horns, but it did daze him. The shock lasted less than a second—enough to prevent him from noticing the long cord had snapped taut or the sound of its return.
The four-sided metal tip of her weapon did not boomerang back to conk the large Fahrkini on a softer area of his skull like I’d expected. It sailed past the opposite side of his head half a foot and then returned again and again and again before finally coming to rest just to the right of his collarbone.
Warham’s plan looked like it would be as successful as when she’d nearly strangled me to death, but there was one important difference between Dregnox and me. Every fiber of muscle in Warham’s frame was not the equal to the few in her opponent’s neck. No matter from what angle she yanked and pulled, the best she accomplished was to generate slight annoyance.
Dregnox was more confused than pained as he yanked the cord around his neck with his spare hand. “You know, my normal punishment for betrayal is execution—but this is so sad, I think I’ll just make an example of you instead. Jestering might be your true calling anyway.”
I laughed despite myself. Fortunately, Dregnox’s attention remained on me for a couple of seconds before he looked back at Warham. Not only was the half-Gaelkini pulling with all her might, so was Criterion. It was barely enough to cause the large demon to jerk forward slightly. Considering he could still form an order to “stop that,” their goal of strangulation was a long way off.
My goal of using their distraction to my advantage was not much closer. I got my hand six inches off the ground before my dehydrated muscles gave up. Inept, tentative allies were not the only ones I had, though. While the rest of my melee were not much better off than me, our four ranged were fine.
The first Lightning Bolt whizzed by Dregnox’s face. My neck gathered enough strength to turn in the direction of the caster. I’d expected to get a nice view of the follow-up but was quite surprised to find something else. Buttons only glared at Viper for a second before he figured her idea to be better. Instead of continuing to fire, all of them rushed forward.
Much as I wanted to yell at their stupidity for joining the rest of us in the land of unquenchable thirst, my voice was well gone. By the time my head turned back, Criterion had been joined by the other three members of their squad. They could still not get more than a slight hunch out of Dregnox, and he was slowly drawing himself up. Though none of Warham’s squad had impressed me with their might, even modestly experienced hunters were well above common people in that stat. And four of them together? I didn’t want to think how strong Dregnox must be to manage that. Not getting punched by him wasn’t just a good idea anymore; it was a key to survival.
Right as Dregnox’s spine straightened, it jerked back down. Four “Legends” he could handle. Five Legends, two Unknowns, and two people from whatever Pits was calling his squad? That was too much.
While the choked wheezes from the demon’s throat did bring a smile to my face, it was a cracked, dry thing that couldn’t manage much else. Whatever Dregnox had done to us wasn’t just some temporary aura whose effect dispersed when he stopped concentrating. His breath had drained most of the moisture in our bodies. At least Warham’s tactic prevented him from repeating the act. Kind of hard to blow or suck when you can’t get any air—
A great circle of fire shot in every direction from the demon. It could have been worse, considering one sole person was in its immediate range. It could have been better too, if that person hadn’t been me. I passed out less from the damage and more from dehydration. I don’t think I was out for more than a second before Metric cured the first-degree burns on my arm with a Restore/Recover combo. I might have fared a lot worse, but it was clear from Dregnox’s bulging forehead that he presently wasn’t capable of much more. I had a feeling he could have taken over half of us out had he been unimpeded . . . or conscious.
The large demon unceremoniously toppled to the ground. Warham nearly collapsed from exhaustion but gained a second wind when she noticed the rest continue to pull with everything they had. Even the greenest of us had learned not to leave an enemy if there was the tiniest sliver of a chance they could recover.
A good minute after Dregnox stopped moving, Criterion let go of the cord to rush over and hack into the Fahrkini’s meaty neck with his halberd. By the time he finished cutting through, everyone who could stand had joined him. Unless Dregnox had the regeneration of a top-level troll, there was no way any of the bloody bits left over were still alive.
While Buttons and Clip congratulated themselves on their role in the great victory, Metric and Viper backed away and prepared their weapons.
Warham snorted as she snapped her bloody weapon back together into a basic mace. “What? You betray a few dozen people and suddenly you’re not trustworthy?”
I responded with a croak. Though it did draw a taunting laugh from Warham, it also focused Buttons’s attention on the new problem at hand. As an apology, he rushed over and tipped his canteen to my throat. My confusion as to why Warham had made no effort to stop him or use the opportunity to attack my two squad members while they were outnumbered didn’t last long. The sound of several hundred marching boots from every direction were hard to miss. The nearby Fahrkini reserves were no longer hindered by their general’s order now that he was deceased. I couldn’t tell if they were angrier at Warham or me, but it wouldn’t matter. The enemy had a lot of frustration, and they weren’t too picky about who they took it out on.
“Oh, good. My army has come to coronate me,” Warham said. Her broad smile cracked when a pert voice spoke up next to her.
“I do not think they have the authority for such an act, Commander. A spiritual leader or other great power usually performs that ceremony and rarely in the midst of an in-progress battle.” Criterion glanced behind them. “Furthermore, the Fahrkini’s intention appears less than beneficial to you.”
“Well, then, they can make it up by killing these morons for me.” She crossed her arms and resumed smiling.
“At least you got the dead morons part right,” I said as the last of my squads regained their feet.
“Yup . . . wait. What did you mean by that?” She turned to Criterion. “What did he mean?”
Criterion’s answer was to turn his full attention behind him. The first dozen of the Fahrkini soldiers were only about twenty feet away. Whether through an unseen hand signal, training, or just common sense, their two remaining tanks formed up next to the kozai and the crossbowman a few feet back. Warham tried to step out to greet her alleged new army, but the kozai yanked her behind him again.
The objection forming on her lips evaporated as the Fahrkini army formed up and drew their weapons. That didn’t stop her mouth. Annoying? Sure, but it did buy my squads more time. Fortunately, my mom had always insisted on tons of extra water, and both Pits and Metric had remembered that lesson well.
“As your new queen, I demand—”
Criterion tugged on her sleeve. “You have not been coronated as queen yet, sir. They haven't even named you as their new general.”
“Nonsense. These people clearly respect strength, and what’s stronger than killing the dude that used to be in charge of them? Dregnox was ripped and had all sorts of neat powers. And I killed him, single-handedly.”
The kozai looked about to object but decided that for once her loose interpretation of the facts was a good thing. For him. Someone had different ideas.
“Eight people help you,” Metric clucked matter-of-factly.
Despite everything suggesting this was pointless in the grand scheme of things, the Fahrkini stopped advancing to wait for Warham’s answer. My stalling had backfired, as they used the opportunity to add to their numbers and organize.
“Which was a fantastic opportunity to show off my teamwork and leadership.” Warham put her hands on her hips in triumph. “Exactly what you’d want in a queen . . . and general.”
“Only for mutual goal,” Metric countered. “Temporary.”
It’s kind of sad that I was rooting for Warham here. I mean, sure, she wanted to kill us, but Metric badly deserved a comeuppance. Nobody likes a smug winner.
“What a coincidence. I happen to know a few thousand people with a mutual goal.” Warham pointed back at the now fully formed reserve companies.
Metric blinked at Warham once and shrugged before sliding back into our line. If I hadn’t been the victim of that exact response so often, I would have reveled in the frustration it brought to Warham. Even worse, the tepu’s surrender meant the decision of what to do next fell to me. Oh, and her efforts had drawn the attention of a sizable contingent of the Fahrkini reserves. According to Owl’s count, they outnumbered us at least three-to-one.
“I think I can turn them against Warham.” I lowered my voice so only my two squads could hear. “That should even things out enough for us to have a chance.”
Dink rolled his eyes at me. “Don’t think the two seconds it’s going to take for them to finish her five losers off is going to make much of a difference.”
Before I could retort that he was underestimating her—it would be at least two and a half seconds—the Fahrkini charged, the majority going straight at Warham to nullify my speed bump of a plan. To her credit and her squad’s, they didn’t flinch or turn and run. Their resolve hardened; their formation tightened.
It was as inspiring as it was pointless. Even if her understrength company had been of higher levels or modestly competent, the sheer numbers against them would have won the day with little effort. And despite these Fahrkini being the reserves, they looked much more deserving of her company’s name of Legend than her bedraggled fools.
Every bit of logic and reason screamed at me to focus on my own massive problem, but I couldn’t look away. Having so much in common with Warham, even if mostly on a superficial level, made me want to see her end—an escape was impossible. Just as expected, the Fahrkini line didn’t even slow down as they reached her spot. They kept going and then . . .
I punched Owl’s arm and pointed. “Damn Fahrkini are in the way. What happened?”
“They’re coming straight for us,” Dink deadpanned. “The Fahrkini, I mean. Maybe focus on the soldiers trying to kill us right now and not how flat your girlfriend is.”
“Not—”
“The Legend are just standing there,” Owl nearly screamed. “And the enemy is just running around them.”
“As prisoners?” I asked.
Owl shook his head. “Doubtful. Warham appears to be directing the enemy, though it’s possible she’s only pointing to where they’re already going.”
“Puzzle for another time?” Dink asked as he raised his shield in-line with Something.
He didn’t hear my answer as the deafening impact of the enemy slamming into our shields was all that could be heard. I hate it when other people answer for me. I was far too unique for anyone to guess my thoughts. Now, if only I could figure out how unique could mean “not dead.”
I’M NOT TOUCHING YOU
These Fahrkini were not their elites. If they had been, we wouldn’t have survived first impact. They were also not some idiotic recruits.
When our shield wall held, instead of just fumbling around in front of us or getting trampled by the lines right behind them, they stepped back and began probing our defenses. That the soldiers in the succeeding line managed to also stop and not run them over was another testament to their skill and leadership.
Neither of those were things I would have done. Boring and safe were words I pretended I didn’t know. Offense and momentum I knew much better, and were the focus of my tactics. It’s a lot harder to counter someone when they won’t stop whacking you long enough to think. Hitting them sounded great about now; I just had to figure out how to do so without them hitting us back.
“Swap?” Pits asked.
I cursed after trying the ability for the thirtieth time. “Still blocked.”
“Diplomacy?” Dink somehow managed to twinkle his big eyes sarcastically at me.
“You go ask the nice murderers for us. I swear we’ll be right behind you.”
A booming voice came from Warham’s direction. “Bring me the head of their handsome leader. The rest you may do with as you please.”
“I so swear that I will give my life so that you may one day bang your cousin.” Dink saluted me with his spear.
“Your death will come much too soon for that,” I said. “And she’s not my cousin.”
“But you will bang her then.” Dink rubbed his chin. “Interesting.”
Much as I wanted to make him pay, I couldn’t afford to accidentally knock him out of formation. Besides, he had distracted me from the nearly overpowering fear and indecision. I was angry and my head was clear. The enemy stood no chance.
After giving an order to not follow me, I charged out. Behind me, the line pulled in to fill my spot, while the one in front stared in confusion. The last thing an army that outnumbers its opponents expects is to be attacked. Still, they were professionals and kept their order with shields raised.
Their lines were perfect. Too perfect.
The first Knockback took the soldier on a straight path that grabbed a friend from each new line hit. Two quick swipes right and left deposited their front line in two neat piles fifty feet on either side. From there, my strikes were less precise but much faster. Soon enough I had a nice clean pocket in the middle of their army.
Though I had caused chaos, there were a few problems. First, while I had broken up their formation, I hadn’t killed anyone, just moved them. Dozens of them were already on their way back. Their arrival would have actually been a good thing. Now that none of them were near me, their ranged didn’t have to worry about hitting allies. If push came to shove, I had no doubt they would have gone for me anyway, but I’d swept even that obstacle away. Arrows nocked to bows, javelins tensed to arms, and crossbow bolts slid into the cocked position. Even with Dimensional Shift, I was about to look like an overstuffed porcupine, but again that voice piped up. It sounded exactly like Warham, despite that making no sense.
“I’ll take care of this personally,” the voice said. “Your future queen has beef with this hunky doofus.”
“Phrasing,” I said.
“Nope,” Dink answered for her. “She got it exactly right . . . unless you’re afraid you can’t perform your cousinly duties.”
“I really wouldn’t want to be your cousin if that’s what you think that phrase means. Never mind.” I tapped my hammer to make a Phantasmal Clone appear as Warham finished shoving her way forward. “You want to get your ass kicked for the third time and in front of your new friends, be my guest.”
Warham snorted and detached the head from her mace to convert it into something resembling a flail with a really long chain. The weapon was as dramatic as it was flawed—making it perfect for her. “Third time’s a spanking.”
“That’s what she said,” Dink replied.
“Exactly . . . wait, what?” The other half-Gaelkini’s weapon went limp for a second before she flapped it back up. “Oh, this.”
I dodged her strike, but not by much. We both knew that had been nothing more than a probing attack, and if we continued at this distance, it was only a matter of time before she caught me.
Distance had never been my game. It was time to play to my strengths.
Warham and a number of others—including a few in my squads—laughed as my face scrunched up in concentration. Nothing happened to complete the look of constipation . . . on the first attempt. On the second, I appeared directly behind her as Swap successfully struggled through the protection of their enchantments.
Halfway through raising my hammer on her unprotected back, I pulled it down and switched to my normal mace. Knocking someone away with a weapon like that was a very bad idea.
A shorter distance to travel also happened to be in my squads’ immediate future. Not only was Swap back on the table, so were portals. The one that appeared behind them was much bigger than the ones I made from Dimensional Trip. The way it glowed on the edges and seemed to be coming from Mask suggested it was an actual spell and not an ability. The alleged caster waved for me to join them, but there was an angry Warham between us and it didn’t look like she would just let me go. I didn’t want to, anyway.
My hammer rose for a mighty blow. She snapped her mace back together in preparation to receive it, and that was when I struck.
Instead of with weapon, I shot forward with hip. Her eyes, too focused on the other thing, didn’t even see the lower part of my body move before impact.
She didn’t need to, as once again Bounce saved her.
Warham wasn’t the only one it saved, though. Again, I was one step ahead of her. My angle was perfect for Bounce to deflect me toward the portal. Much as I wanted to beat her for the third time—and I definitely would have—there wasn’t anything for me to gain besides pride, and I already had an overabundance of the substance.
