Michael Manning - The Archmage unbound

I ran out of iron spheres and reached in to pull out another handful. This time I had more breathing room and I was able to space the explosions further from our own lines. Fire and thunder lit the battlefield as I methodically destroyed everything to the west of our camp out to a distance of two hundred yards. When I stopped at last I could see nothing moving there.

Walter was leaning heavily on my staff when I looked over at him. I took the staff from his hands and pulled one of his arms over my shoulder. “Here lean on me,” I said quietly. “We need to go help the other side of the camp.”

His gaze was full of weariness as he answered, “I’m starting to think you aren’t human.”

I half walked and half carried him along with me as I headed toward the area where Harold was still fighting. “Is your leg bothering you?” I asked.

“My leg is fine,” he said. “It’s my magic, I think I used too much. How is it that you aren’t exhausted yet?”

I laughed darkly. “I gave you the hard job. My iron spheres do all the work for me. You had to use a lot more power keeping them away from us.” Walter didn’t respond but I could tell he didn’t entirely believe me.

The other side of the camp was in much better shape but it was beginning to fall apart. Sir Harold stalked up and down the line, stepping in to dismember the undead wherever they overwhelmed the human defenders. Unfortunately the defenders were being overrun in more locations than Harold could be at one time. Looking out beyond the line I could see at least a thousand shiggreth pressing forward.

Since the line on this side was still intact Walter was spared from having to repeat his part with the staff again. Drawing forth more of my iron spheres; I began systematically destroying everything on the eastern side of the camp.

Within a few minutes it was over and I found myself standing alone except for Walter. The soldiers around us were watching me silently, eyes blank from shock and fear. An onslaught of undead monsters followed by an awful lot of fire and explosions seemed to have that effect on most people I had learned.

I glanced around and stared back at the men staring at me. After a moment I grinned and yelled, “And that’s what happens when you wake me up in the middle of the gods-be-damned night!”

Silence reigned for awkward seconds around me before finally men began chuckling. Once they started it was infectious and soon most of those that could, were laughing. I headed back to my tent. Harold found me there several minutes later.

“What do we do now?” he asked simply.

“Clear out any bodies inside the camp, ours and theirs. Make sure the men are careful not to touch them directly. They’re still dangerous. Set new watches and reform the picket. Once that is done put everyone not on duty back in their bedrolls,” I told him.

“Shouldn’t we burn the bodies?” he asked worriedly.

I sighed wearily, “Yes, in the morning, not tonight in the dark. That light up there won’t burn for more than twenty minutes or so.” I pointed upward at the brightly glowing light I had created. I had placed it extremely high to keep the undead from nullifying it, but now that I considered it I realized it was a good idea for any nighttime battle.

“But what about the ones that turn…,” he started to ask.

“The men on watch can keep an eye on them. If any of the corpses get up and start walking have them cut them into pieces. We’ll burn them in the daytime. The men need sleep.” I was already climbing into my bedroll as I relayed my instructions. I was exhausted from my own use of magic, though Walter seemed to be much worse off.

“But…” he protested.

I closed my eyes, “Ask James. Don’t wake me up unless we get attacked again.” He left after that and I was asleep not long after he had gone.

I rose early the next morning but I had pity on Walter and let him sleep longer. The poor man seemed to have been truly exhausted by his efforts the night before.

I found James and Harold supervising the collection of bodies and body parts. It appeared that neither of them had slept at all after the attack. They both appeared worn and weary.

“How many did we lose?” I asked James.

“Slightly more than a hundred and fifty men,” he answered immediately. “They wiped out the men guarding the cave last night before they assaulted the camp.”

I grimaced. We couldn’t afford to lose men that quickly. The shiggreth could replace their numbers much more easily than we could. “At least there’s one bright side,” I noted.

“What’s that?” asked Harold.

“If they wiped out the detail guarding the cave first then it means they’re desperate and that opening is their only means of ingress or egress. If we assume that the ones remaining last night didn’t skulk off somewhere then we have most of them cornered,” I explained.

“They might have wiped the guard detail out to give us that impression falsely,” suggested James.

I sighed, “If they’re that clever then we may be in trouble. Let’s hope they aren’t.”

James nodded, but spoke up anyway, “Hoping and wishing are good ways to get men killed.”

“You sound a lot like Dorian,” I said with a sour grin.

“It’s more likely that he sounds like Gram Thornbear, which is where I heard that originally,” he corrected me.

Sir Harold spoke up, “Alright, let’s assume that they want us to think it is the only entrance. Why would they do it? What are the advantages to them?”

James responded first, “The obvious conclusion would be that all or part of their forces would take us from the rear. Then they could either bring the caverns down and trap us, or slaughter us between them.”

“The real question is how many of them are left down there,” I pointed out.

“We accounted for over a thousand of the bastards last night,” said Harold. “Well Mordecai did anyway,” he amended.

“Let’s not start counting notches, Harold,” I admonished him.

“We can’t do anything until tomorrow at least, no matter what we decide,” James said, drawing us back to the proper reason for our discussion. “It will take the rest of the day just to collect all of the bodies.”

“They need to be burned,” I added.

“I agree,” he said, “but that will take even more time. Collecting the wood necessary to burn that mountain of flesh will take a lot of men and labor.”

“I’m not entirely certain how useful an army will be once we get past the entrance to those caverns,” I said at last.

“It isn’t as if we can starve them out,” James answered bitterly.

That set me to thinking and I put my hand out to forestall further discussion for a moment. “We don’t actually know that. In fact we know next to nothing about them. Those bodies may decay and become useless after a certain period of time, or they may require some form of sustenance.”

Harold snorted, “You mean us.”

“That might be true, or not. We don’t really know,” I clarified. “James I’d like you to keep one of the cut up shiggreth bodies quarantined, rather than burning it with the others. We can take it back to Lancaster when we’re done. I’d be very curious to know if it will eventually lose its animation, or whether it will decay.”

James looked thoughtful. “We need one that hasn’t been cut to pieces as well then. They might last longer if they haven’t been cut up, if indeed they can starve at all.”

Sir Harold spoke up, “This might be beside the point, but how do you plan on capturing a creature whose very touch is anathema to us?”

James smiled, “Ha! We use nets. Once we have one trapped we bind it carefully with ropes. After that we can put it on a litter and drag it back to Lancaster, the dungeon and a couple of guards should be sufficient then.”