Matt Forbeck - Marked for Death

“I have your back!” Kandler roared over the din of combat.

Blood trickled from a cut on Sallah’s forehead and ran down her cheek. She nodded her thanks to the justicar then turned away and continued fighting without a word.

Kandler and Sallah fought on, warforged bodies stacked at their feet. One warforged charged out from a nearby tent, a massive flail in his armored hands. Before he could reach the battling duo though, he tripped and collapsed in the dirt, a bolt protruding from its side. He dropped the flail and tugged at the shaft in an attempt to remove it. The next bolt pierced his eye. He fell with a crash and did not move again.

Beside Deothen, Brendis let out a little hoot. A warforged still guarding the prisoners backhanded the young knight from behind, knocking him face first into the dirt. Brendis kept right on cheering.

Sallah cried out and fell, clutching her leg. A warforged stood over her, ready to stab down into her with its long, heavy sword. Deothen prayed to the Silver Flame, promising his god anything in return for sparing the lady knight’s life.

Before Sallah’s attacker could finish its job, Kandler’s blade slashed out and cut the creature across the eyes, drawing sparks and a cry of anguish. The warforged fell back, clutching its face.

Another warforged tackled Kandler from behind, and the two went sprawling forward over Sallah, pinning her to the ground. An ironclad foot stomped on Kandler’s hand, and the justicar dropped his sword. A mass of three-fingered hands fell on him from all sides.

Deothen bowed his head again. He refused to weep for himself, although he could hear that Brendis’ cheers had turned to sobs. He did not begrudge the young knight his lack of composure.

When Deothen looked up, he saw the warforged lift Sallah and Kandler to their feet and carry them over to deposit them next to him and Brendis. Both of the fighters were badly battered, bleeding from a half-dozen cuts each.

A warforged stood before the prisoners and kicked Superior’s body aside. “I’m Superior now,” he announced to the others.

None of the others objected. At their new leader’s direction, the warforged holding Kandler moved Levritt’s corpse aside and put him in the dead knight’s spot on his knees. Sallah wound up on Kandler’s other side, and other warforged grabbed Brendis and propped him back up on Deothen’s right.

Deothen looked to the other knights. Sallah’s face burned with anger and shame. Brendis’ face was streaked with dirt still wet from his tears, but he had stopped weeping. His eyes stood vacant and distant.

Deothen lowered his head and began to pray. After a moment, the other knights joined in, recited the long-practiced words along with him.

Kandler leaned over and said, “Put in a good word for me.”

Deothen raised his eyes to look at him. The justicar’s eyes remained defiant. “I already have.” The battered knight shook his head. “You should have left us to die.”

“Coming down here wasn’t my idea,” the justicar said. He glared at Sallah.

Deothen’s lips spread in a smile that spoke of the weariness of all his years. “She is sworn to defend the helpless and to come to the aid of her fellow knights. You have no such duties, yet here you are. It was brave.”

Kandler shook his head. “Just stupid.”

“You got that right, breather,” Superior said. He threw a heap of swords in front of the prisoners. There were four of the knights’ swords, with Kandler’s own blade mixed into the lot. “You just added your own head to the tally.”

The warforged named Xalt stepped forward. “Superior,” he said. “This must end. We were built for violence but are not compelled to perpetuate it. We have free will. We have a choice. We can choose to put an end to this.”

Superior clapped Xalt on the back. “You speak well,” he said, “but we have lost many of our own the hands of these breathers. For that, they must pay.”

Xalt looked down at Levritt’s head, which had rolled near the fire. “This is barbaric. We cannot build a new homeland on the bones of our neighbors. How will we ever live in peace?”

Superior laughed. “We were made for war, and in war we shall live forever. Don’t deny your pattern, Xalt. We are all soldiers here, and soldiers are good for only one thing-killing.” He looked down at Kandler and the knights. “Or dying.”

Superior glared at the captives, each in turn. “You fought well, breathers, but your time has come to an end. Someday, your kind will know better than to invade this land. The first of our messages to them will be written in your blood.”

The warforged leader stepped back and nodded at the war-forged standing guard over Kandler and the knights.

“Kill them.”

The moment the justicar, the shifter, and that lady knight left the airship, Te’oma saw her chance. She’d spotted the airship scudding across the gray Mournland sky toward her soon after it entered the air over the hills north of the crazed wizard’s tower, and she’d hidden under some low brush until the thing sailed by.

So far, this had turned out to be a lucky day for Te’oma. First, the old elf wizard had rid her of Tan Du. He’d been a useful ally in the Mournland, but entirely too unstable. One more mishap on their mission, and Te’oma knew she’d have been the vampire’s next meal. Then the justicar and the lady knight arrived at the tower and provided her with cover for her escape. And when racing away from the other knights, she’d spotted the warforged patrol before they found her. Dismounting and sending Te’oma’s horse on alone to gallop past the patrol had been a stroke of genius. It left the changeling without a mount, but it alerted the patrol to the presence of the knights in time for them to form a hasty ambush.

Once the knights had all been captured, Te’oma had been at a loss for what to do. Without Esprл, she had failed at her mission, so going home was out of the question. In any case, without a mount she faced a long, hard walk out of the Mourn-land. More than one traveler had stepped into the mists around the borders of the place never to be seen again.

Then she spotted the airship. She didn’t know who was driving it, but she decided against hailing the captain and pleading for a ride. Using her mental powers, she projected her senses aboard the ship’s deck for a look around. Once she saw Esprл and Kandler behind the wheel, she knew her instincts had been good.

The ship moved slow but with purpose. Te’oma guessed that the people aboard were hunting for the other knights. Once the ship had passed overhead, she followed, trying to stay as close as possible without being seen. This soon proved impossible, but no one ever looked back to see her sprinting after the ship, racing up and down the hillsides as she worked to keep them in sight.

When the ship came to a stop, Te’oma crept up the side of the hill and peered over the edge. She watched and listened as the adults threw the rope ladder down and disembarked from the airship. She waited for them to disappear over the crest of the next hill before she stood up.

The changeling padded down into the hollow in which the airship was nestled and then up the other side to where the end of the rope ladder had been. When she got there, she morphed her form until she looked something like one of the Knights of the Silver Flame that had chased her out here-the young one with the blond hair. Her clothes wouldn’t change, but she’d just have to deal with that.

Te’oma peeked over the edge of the hill to make sure that Kandler and the others were long gone, then she whistled up to the ship’s deck. “Hello?” she called. “Anyone there?”

The changeling had to call out three times before Esprл poked her nose over the ship’s railing.