Chapter 21 * Baron Pallon*
RiP
Seeker of Silence
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* * *
*Baron Pallon*
The marching camp of the imperial troops lived its usual evening life. Between the even rows of tents, sentries with torches passed once a minute. Each sentry had two more in sight at the same time. At the corners of the square formed by the camp were sentries, changing every two hours. At a flight of arrows, all the trees around the camp were fallen, so that it was impossible to approach unnoticed.
The scout, shabby and ragged, was spotted at once. And without going into detail they took him to Baron Pallon, the leader of the army.
The baron was not listening to the report of the scout alone. Lady Feo, commander of the imperial cavalry, was also present in the modest by the standards of the nobility commander's tent.
At the end of the story, the frowning baron rolled his jaw.
"Go eat and sleep."
The ranger saluted and rushed off to carry out the command. The Baron sighed and turned to Lady Feo.
"What do you say, Lady?"
Feo, crossing her arms across her chest, as usual, replied thoughtfully.
"I will say that I do not believe in such a successful escape, your lordship."
"Explain," the Baron raised an eyebrow.
She made a vague gesture with her hand.
"A group of experienced rangers on a combat mission were hunted down and strangled as rookies. And now there is a survivor who was able to escape from those who strangled them. And he wasn't caught after he became aware of the layout of the fortifications, the numbers. Sounds like a load of crap to me."
"It makes sense. And I suppose whoever captured him the first time would have no problem capturing him the second time."
"That's the way it is. I think they let him go. It's uncharacteristic of monsters, so I couldn't know why. It could be a hint that they don't consider us a threat. Or an invitation to a trap."
The Baron frowned.
"I'm thinking, maybe, or. That's not what I expected to hear from a professional monster hunter."
"What did you expect, your lordship?" Feo raised an eyebrow. "I have never seen, much less killed, the monsters the ranger told me about. Orcs? There are half-human half-pigs, I've encountered them. They're animal-like and barely speak human speech. If they were, I could tell you something definite, what to expect, what tactics to use, and what to be afraid of. But first, the swine-men would leave neither the settlers nor the scout alive. If they didn't devour him at once, they would break his bones and keep him in the pit until they were hungry."
"And the second?" the Baron inquired coldly.
"And secondly, coherent speech. Monsters are incapable of this at all. And half-humans rarely need to learn a human language at all. They're sentient beings, Baron. I'd try talking to them, for starters."
The baron's voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Hmm, talking to non-humans. About what? Shall we ask them to leave? Or even acknowledge their right to this land?"
"We should first understand who we're dealing with before we make any decisions," Feo answered coldly.
"I can easily tell who we're dealing with. Monsters." Cut off Pallon. "The subhumans disturbing our nation's borders. Bloodthirsty savages are coming out of that damned forest. They ravage small settlements and attack patrols. And our task, if not to end it, then at least to weaken this invasion. Coincidence, trap, or invitation, does not matter. We have found the location of the lair of non-humans, presumably cannibals. And we have a more or less exact plan of the area. We also know for sure that there are people among them. If they are there as cattle, it is our sacred duty to protect them in the name of the empire. And if they are renegades or rebels, we execute them. In the name of the Empire."
Lady Feo nodded aloofly in response.
"I have been assigned to your command, your lordship," she finally replied. "And I will carry out your orders. I can't understand why you would ask me anything if my words mean nothing to you."
"Because, Lady Feo, I was hoping to hear something practical from you. And not..."
"And not what?"
The Baron became furious at being interrupted for a moment. But then he pulled himself together. Feo continued more calmly.
"Maybe you wanted to hear a suggestion to storm the walls, even if they were wooden. With the cavalry as our main strike force? I have not seen these fortifications, and I cannot estimate what forces it would cost to take them, or what losses there might be. I have not seen the enemy. Negotiations are needed at least to understand who we are dealing with, how they build, how they think, and how they treat death. And after that plan some kind of action. Do you want a frontal attack? Give such an order, and it will be carried out. I merely remind you that we swore an oath to the Emperor, not to you. And for every man fallen in the execution of such an ingenious plan, the imperial executioner will ask you."
The baron gritted his teeth, choking on the urge to slap her. There was too great a chance of losing an arm.
Among the troops entrusted to him by his majesty's decree, Lady Feo was the only former adventurer. And she also commanded half a hundred heavy cavalrymen. As commander, she was appointed his adjutant and bodyguard.
Baron had heard much about adventurers being skilled and calculating fighters. It could not have been otherwise; a professional monster hunter cannot be a bad warrior. His Majesty was not stingy in recruiting them into the army by any means necessary. As far as the Baron knew, it was extremely expensive. Adventurers were extremely reluctant to trade their careers for service in the regular army and were tempted at least by the knight's spurs. And even so, they only went into service because the monster slaying the emperor had baffled the army. For an adventurer below the rank of platinum, there was simply no job left.
The specifics of battles with monsters led to great losses, and where a small group of adventurers managed without losses, squads of soldiers lost dozens of people killed and crippled. Ghosts, possessed, vampires, werewolves, magically altered beasts, witches, self-taught sorcerers, demon worshippers, demons themselves, and a host of other threats traditionally repelled by adventurers were not what the common soldier was prepared for.
This did not stop the Emperor. And he achieved his goal - the adventurers, left unemployed, began to leave the empire. Or, accept offers to leave the Guild.
And they were worth all the cost. For example, Feo, formerly of gold rank. Upon first meeting her, the Baron was disappointed. The friendly, indifferent woman had many scars but did not stand out for her physique or charisma. The Baron said nothing in that regard, though he began to seriously doubt the legends of invincible adventurers.
The campaign quickly proved that he was right to be silent. His first impression was wrong. Lady Feo was a tireless creature, never seeming to tire at all. She rode or stood all day, never taking off her heavy armor, never even breaking a sweat. She was physically strong enough to lift a grown man in her arms and carry him calmly for several hours without taking off her armor. In training fights, she could only be hit with a sword if three men attacked.
The baron accepted this fact and tried to show the lady respect appropriate to a knight. He even considered the possibility of marriage, at first. A woman is capable of giving birth even at thirty, so age would not be a great hindrance. After all, one could have concubines for pleasure. Yes, she was not of noble blood, but her position in the army mitigated that disadvantage.
The relationship soured very quickly.
The first unpleasant surprise was that Feo obeyed the baron as commander and nothing more. It made no difference to her whether the man in front of her was a nobleman or a common soldier. She was a commoner herself, and yet she had absolutely no respect for titled persons in general and the Baron in particular. There was a time when the Baron had hinted to her that a commoner, even with her knightly status, might well be lashed for disrespect. Feo suggested that he should try it.
Do you want to give me a reason to drown you in a bucket of shit in public? I'd appreciate it.
She was not afraid. She wasn't afraid of anyone or anything at all. And it wasn't bravado or well-mannered courage - she just didn't know how to be afraid, didn't know how to do it.
And the second unpleasant surprise was the realization that the Emperor did not, by and large, care who solved the problem on this section of the border. Whether it was to rehabilitate a tainted clan or a career advancement for a generic upstart.
The decision to get rid of the rival came as a matter of course. The problem was the lack of a way to do it. In a direct confrontation, he didn't stand a chance, he knew that. In a direct fight, Feo would simply cut him to pieces. There was no way to accuse her of anything either - the knights knew her well and respected her, and would hardly tolerate slander. Appealing to disrespect for the class would simply raise a laughing stock, at best. Knights are not just about nobility and honor. They are also very willful, experienced, and ruthless cutthroats.
And now a great idea came to the Baron's mind.
"Have it your way, Lady Feo. I admit your words are reasonable and measured. We'll try to talk to these... Orcs."
* * *
*Jay-Gul *
As soon as it began to dawn, Jay-Gul was found by an elf. The orc was sitting by the fire, next to the shaman's tent, sharpening the edge of his axe. His ears twitched now and then, responding sensitively to the voices around the camp. The warriors wanted a fight, and they had to be very alert. So they wouldn't find a fight before the guests arrived. It would have been embarrassing.
"Boss, the enemy is coming. If the pace continues, in a couple of hours they will be in sight."
The orc grinned contentedly without turning around.
"So they've taken the bait. What about the ambush?"
"Goblins are placed on the expected path of the enemies and are waiting for a command. I should note that if the enemy commander is not stupid, there is no way to attack suddenly. The terrain is too open."
"And who cares? It's not about the sudden, it's about timing. Those goblins, isn't their boss the one whose ear I cut off?"
"No, the other one. This is the one that was able to capture me in the beginning."
"Oh, I've heard of him. I don't remember his name, just that it's a stupid name. I'm surprised you let him live. I wouldn't."
The elf did not answer.
"Well, it's for the best," Jay added when he realized the elf wasn't going to answer. "Sit down and eat."
The time passed quickly. The orcs, three and a half dozen of them, had gathered at the gate. They were quarreling now and then, and if it hadn't been for Jay-Gul's vigilance to quickly break up the fighters, the fight would have been over long before the enemy arrived.
Jay-Gul saw the problem in the current size of his gang. There were too many fighters for one leader. And he didn't know how to solve it.
There were obvious ways. Let them outnumber each other to an acceptable number, for example. Or send them to slaughter as soon as the opportunity presented itself. As the boss, he had every right to do so, and yet something hinted that it wasn't a good way out.
After all, the Nobs had hundreds and thousands of warriors under their command. Both in the form of small gangs and in the form of "antags". The antags were sometimes over a hundred in one place. A hundred fighters without a leader, are equal to each other. All they needed was the voice of their leader to end any strife. Jay-Gul wanted that, too. But to have the voice of a Nob, you had to become a Nob. And to become a Nob, you had to overthrow the previous one.
Orc was well aware that by challenging the leader, he would die. He was not afraid to die; after all, when a warrior takes up arms for the first time, he accepts death as fate.
Except he didn't want to die a stupid, useless death. And if he challenged the chief just for ambition, that would be exactly what it would be.
The elf, standing on the parapet of the palisade, raised his fist. Jay-Gul felt a sense of satisfaction, all the unimportant problems receding into the background. The orcs, too, became quiet and composed all at once.
Nothing disciplines like an enemy in sight, Jay-Gul noted as he climbed up.
Soldiers were approaching the village from the west. The total number was under two hundred, more than the escaped spy had said. Jay-Gul counted by the dozen, and he counted 12*12 of infantry or so. And five more were cavalry. Even from a distance, it was clear that almost all were in armor.
The army approached slowly and stopped about half a mile from the walls the orcs had erected. They stopped and began to regroup. The infantry lined up in triple lines, facing the walls. The cavalry were in equal groups at their sides. There were a few riders behind the infantry as well. No matter how hard he squinted his eyes he couldn't see their gear. One thing was clear - they had no armor on.
The orc poked his fat finger in that direction.
"Can you hit those over there?"
The elf shook his head negatively.
"Far away. The arrow won't even reach."
"Damn."
The orc was about to wave his hand, sending the rampaging boys into battle, when the elf squinted and pointed in the direction of the enemies.
"Look."
"What's the matter?"
"Two riders separated, clearly heading this way."
The orc's face stretched.
"Just the two of them? They're pretty good."
"I don't think they're going to fight. I think it's a negotiation."
"Wut?" Jay-Gul was even more surprised. "What's there to talk about?"
The elf shrugged.
"I don't know. But that's how people do it. To talk, to get to know each other."
"This is weird. Here we are, here they are, what we have, the spy told them, what they have, the spy told us. What fucking negotiations about what? Did they bring that casino here for nothing?"
"You decide."
Jay-Gul looked again, and when he saw that two riders had indeed separated from the detachment, he grumbled irritably and came down from the wall to the gate.
"What there? WHERE?! Chop-chop. Boss when?"
"Shut up. I gonna talk with their boss. Open the gate."
He was overwhelmed with irritation and impatience. He felt the same way all the orcs felt. The more annoyed they were, the more annoyed he was. And the orcs, feeling their commander boiling over, became even more irritated.
Jay-Gul stepped out of the gate, swaying his axe, and staggered toward them. He didn't go far; he was about forty paces away, leaning on his weapon.
The riders approached. Jay-Gul wondered how heartless one had to be to load an animal with so much iron. There wasn't a single part of the human body that wasn't covered in metal. There was relatively less steel on the horses, but it was decent, too.
When the riders came within striking distance of each other, they stopped. One of them lifted his visor and assessed the orc. He appeared to be the superior of the two. And yet it seemed to the orc that the other was a far more worthy fighter.
"Identify yourself!" finally broke the silence.
"I'm Jay-Gul, I'm the boss and the owner of this village. What do you want?"
"I am Baron Pallon, appointed by the grace of the Emperor to bring order to this land. I see you're intelligent. I'll give you a chance to save your skin. Leave this place immediately, and tell those who want to live to do the same."
Jay-Gul was taken aback. He looked at the other, then back at first, and laughed. The orc laughed heartily as long as he could breathe, slapping his thigh. Then he wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and caught his breath. And then he burst into a fit of laughter again.
"I suppose your laughter means no, monster?" The horseman rumbled.
"Oh fuck, hahaha haha... Oh, I can't... Ohhh. Anyway, I'm not gonna kill you right now. I wanted to, but I won't. Here's the thing, man. You're stupid. You're... You're stupid. Have you come to threaten an orc with death? You? Threaten an orc with death? Death? Three jokes in a row. Funny, very funny. I appreciate it. Now go to your gang. Tell them we'll kill them. Let them come here and die like warriors. Or let them run and die like fowl. I'll let you live because you're funny. You will amuse me. That's all I said. Off you go."
Jay-Gul gave one last chuckle, turned, and headed for the gate. The baron gritted his teeth and reached for his pouch. The second rider followed the movement and shouted:
"Don't you dare, you idiot!"
But there was no time to interfere. Baron pulled a small but powerful steel crossbow out of its case, already cocked, and fired a bolt into the orc's back.
Jay-Gul turned around at the shout, and a short metal arrow sliced into his shoulder. It hurt rather badly for such a small projectile. It felt like someone had driven a nail into his shoulder. My head felt a little dizzy, and my body felt heavy.
There was a thud and a dry cracking sound as the elf fired his arrow. It failed to penetrate the armor of the baron and shattered into splinters.
"Mine!" roared Jay-Gul, dashing after him.
A second rider blocked his path. The sword whistled dangerously close to his neck and split his ear. Jay-Gul had to change his aim. As much as he wanted to tear the dishonorable bastard apart, he couldn't ignore the fighter right next to him.
He swooped down on the new target with all his strength and fury. With his experience in encounters with humans and then ogres, he expected nothing from his opponent. Just because the man had a lot of steel on him couldn't make him a good fighter. The orc finished off the horse with a short swing, with a single strike of his axe. The animal had no chance of dodging with such a burden. The heavy blade smashed through the horse's skull, along with the engraved steel plate it was covered with.
The rider sprang rather gracefully from the saddle of the falling horse and stood in a fighting stance. By the short curses from under his visor, the boogeyman was finally convinced that it was a woman.
This in itself was not unusual for Jay-Gul. Orcish women did not usually fight on the front lines, but they could always enter the battlefield with bows. Fast and strong, they were inferior to elves in marksmanship and range. But where an elf had to carefully target a vulnerable spot, an orcish woman only needed to hit.
For example, an escaped leader could have been knocked off his horse by an orcish woman's arrow. If not at the first, then at the second.
Jay also knew that the city and palace guards were women, about a third of the total. The elves had at least half of them. Maybe more than that, and you couldn't tell the big-eared ones apart. Jay still wasn't sure what gender the elf in his gang was.
So there was nothing strange about the woman-warrior. And yet there was something wrong with the whole situation.
"Stupid world," grumbled the orc. "Women have balls more often than men."
The woman, meanwhile, without any distraction, swooped down on the orc, striking the orc with two swift slashes with her sword. Jay bounced back and kicked her in the shield with his foot. She closed in expectantly and lost the initiative. A brief moment was enough for a good swing with the axe.
Against expectations, the human wasn't tossed aside as a sack of shredded meat in a twisted steel wrap. The axe ricocheted off a well-placed shield. It took Jay-Gul barely a second to regain his and his weapon's balance. And human-made good use of it. A momentary lunge of the sword at the neck could well, if not end a life, then cause a serious wound.
If the opponent was another human.
Jay-Gul gently stepped aside, spun around, and brought the axe down again, not with the blade, but with the butt. There was a thud of crumpling steel and a crack. The knight's shield dented and cracked, and she jerked backward, barely able to keep her balance. Jay-Gul immediately struck again, expecting to finish her off.
The woman did not defend herself but threw herself into a clinch with all her weight in a stabbing blow. And this time successfully. Jay-Gul didn't have time to dodge completely, and the edge of the sword left a long cut on his stomach.
Orc retaliated by kicking his opponent in the groin. The steel skirt cushioned the blow, though the body was still thrown back a few paces. Jay-Gul swung his axe again, and a bolt stuck in his shoulder scratched the bone and cartilage. The blow turned out to be awkward, and the knight took it away from her head with his sword. It saved her life, though the fight was still over. The blade struck the shoulder pad with such force that it broke the bone.
Jay-Gul drove his axe into the ground and, keeping his eyes on the wobbly figure, plucked a bolt from his shoulder. The dizziness was almost gone, though there was still an unpleasant burning sensation in the wound.
"You are a good warrior, human. Why are you commanded by a dishonorable coward? You should have defied him... Hold your weapon steady. I will kill you with all respect."
The human did not reply. The orc nodded, acknowledging his reluctance to waste words, and raised his axe. And then the human fell. She didn't try to cushion her fall with her hands but collapsed to the ground.
Jay-Gul raised an eyebrow in surprise, stepped closer, and pushed the body with his foot. He leaned over, flipped the body onto its back, and tried to open the visor without waiting for a reaction. The stubborn iron was much tougher than it looked and did not open at once,
The woman was alive but unconscious. The orc had seen this before - it had happened to humans and ogres from severe but not fatal wounds.
He couldn't decide what to do. To kill her now, as it were, would be unfair. She had fought fair and deserved to die in the fight.
He was distracted by a shout from the wall. Jay glanced up to see if the elf was pointing in the direction of the enemies.
The commander had already galloped toward them. A horn sounded, and the troops moved toward the settlement.
Jay put the decision aside, threw the body on his shoulder, and walked back to the gate. Boyz was nervous. When he had barely stepped behind the walls, he was overwhelmed again by a seething rage. He leaned the motionless body against the wall.
"Elf!" Jay barked, "Call the shaman!"
Throwing everything out of his head that made no sense to think about, he stood in the middle of the open gate. His blood was boiling, his head dizzy with venom and the urge to kill. He breathed deep into his lungs and pointed his axe forward toward the oncoming warriors of the enemy.
"WAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!"
The ground and walls trembled in unison with the instantaneous cry. The orcs poured through the gate in one mass.
Jay-Gul himself was eager to give himself over to the rampage. To immerse himself in the chaos of blood and death without a trace of thought. Wagh beckoned, like a nap after a three-day march through the marshes. Like fresh moonshine on a festive evening. Like a beautiful woman who walked into an empty tent.
And yet something held him back. That something was fireballs, bright even in daylight. Three orbs flew into the air from behind a line of enemy infantry and flew lazily toward the village. They seemed to float slowly through the air. Jay-Gul knew the price of such slowness.
He knew what was coming. And he hesitated, torn apart by the contradiction. To surrender to the Wagh or to stay where he was and fight the fire.
Not knowing what to do, he did what he always did. He recalled the order in detail.
Boss told us to take this village, subdue it with as little damage as possible, and fortify ourselves here. And that order remains in force until Boss gives another.
What could be worse than failing a Boss's order? Only to fail an order from the Creator. And by the way, it was the Creator who told the Warboss to deal with the issue of the occupation.
If the village burns down, it cannot be called minimal damage. And there will be nothing to fortify on.
"Aaaaaaah! Goddamn, you fucking wizards! Damn you three hundred times! Aaahhhh!!! Shaman, fuck your guts, where the fuck have you been!!!"
The shaman was already waddling toward the gate, and the elf had carried out the order he'd given me a minute before. Jay ran toward him.
"What..." The shaman grumbled and then stopped talking.
Jay-Gul poked his finger behind his back, upward, without stopping. The shaman seemed to lose his temper.
"So-ka. I'll do what I can."
"Elf, signal the goblins! Let them do what they want, but the mages must be stopped!"
The elf nodded and disappeared with a blurred dash.
"Everybody in the houses, open the doors, get in the corners!" Jay yelled at the top of his tinned throat. "Fire from above! Don't lock up! When it fucking hits, count to five! If it's quiet, run out and fight the fire!"
For the most part, his cries went to waste. The villagers had stayed indoors since yesterday and didn't show their faces outside. The orcs, with their desire to spill blood, discouraged any desire to cross paths with them.
The shaman, meanwhile, took his time walking out onto the cathedral square in front of the former headman's house. He took off his heavy bone beads as he went.
"Appear."
Above the beads, there was a fluttering haze like a blistering heat wave.
"A deal is a deal, spirit. The time has come."
The haze crawled over to the shaman's arm and immediately enveloped him completely. The shaman looked up at the sky - fireballs were already falling on the settlement from a height of two hundred paces. The humming whirring of boiling fire could be heard even below.
The shaman tapped his staff on the ground and yelled:
"Ashes to ashes! Flame to flame!"
The ground shook perceptibly, and a dusty haze rose above it. And the shaman burst into flames as if he'd been bound in twigs. The roar of fire drowned out the rest of the screams. The fireballs in the air exploded into many fat smoky pieces and spilled downward.
Almost all of them reached for the shaman, who was shrieking with rage but standing still.
There was a rumbling noise. The fragments of fire exploded as they slammed into the shaman, spattering acrid, flowing flames for dozens of paces. The cathedral square was instantly a blazing inferno.
Several pieces of fire fell in other places. Two fell on a house on the outskirts, one on a barn not far from the patch, and three more somewhere on the other side of the village. Jay-Gul couldn't see where, just hoped it was on the ground and not on the buildings.
The flames roared on the patch even though the ground was burning. Whether the shaman had survived, the orc did not know and considered this question of secondary importance.
If he's dead, there's nothing to be done. If he survived, how could he be found in a fire, the heat of which made his hair crackle even at a distance?
In any case, the shaman accomplished his task. He drew back the firestorm. Mages should also notice how a spell that had already worked suddenly begins to eat up magical powers again and in much greater quantities.
Although, in the opinion of the orc, it turned out too much. Either the shaman overdid it, or the mages were strong. Though it didn't really matter at this point.
The orc ran to the house on which the fiery fragment had fallen. The hide-covered frame of the roof did its job. The piece of fire spread across it without hitting the house itself. People had already run out of it.
The father of the family, his two sons, the mother of the family, and the wife of the eldest. The older woman held two grandchildren in her arms, and the younger one held a one-year-old to her chest.
Stunned and deafened people looked around, and the baby screamed.
"What's up! Women, over there to that house, it's not hit! You, over here, you two, over there!"
There was no need for repetition. The commander's tone and direct instructions washed away the confusion. Women and children rushed to the house next door. The men began to help the orc pull the burning hide from the roof.
The hide was thrown there on the spot, only folded in half. Jay-Gul and his assistants rushed to the other side of the settlement, where the fire had also fallen.
A barn not far from the patch was crackling merrily with fire, but Jay-Gul didn't see much point in dealing with it. There weren't supposed to be people in it, and if the fire spread to a house, it wouldn't be long before it did.
The other places where the fire fell were also without casualties. In one place, it really fell on the ground. In another on the tent of the shaman. The tent had been hard-enchanted against fire, and by the time Jay-Gul and his assistants got there, the tent was already extinguished. It smelled of greasy smoke, but not even a hole appeared.
At the third crash site, the fire did hit the house. The occupants had already tried to fight it out. It was no use - the speed of drawing water from the well made it impossible to stop the fire from spreading, let alone put it out.
Jay immediately intervened in the process. The women were driven to the nearest shelter, and the men began to remove the roof. They did it quickly, though the fire had already crept over the walls and some of the roof framing.
Through the screeching and crackling of the fire came a warning cry from someone. Jay looked up into the sooty sky. Several more fireballs were approaching.
"Air! To the shelter, quickly, quickly!"
Without questioning what the air had to do with it, the men scattered. The orc himself stared at the greasy trail of lights until the last seconds, calculating where they would fall, and only then ran into the nearest house.
It was crowded and quite noisy. Someone was crying, children were yelling, someone was asking what was going on, and someone was demanding that everyone be quiet.
With this man, Jay-Gul was in complete agreement.
"Shut your "?;% mouths! Quiet!"
There was silence for a second. Then there was a rumbling sound from outside, and something rattled from above. The orc listened, counted to five, and commanded:
"Everybody outside, look around women and children where there's still no fire! Not women follow me!"
A quick check showed that at least a quarter of the houses was on fire. Some of the other houses had smoky roofs, and the roof defenses were acting up again.
People were running and screaming in a cloud of smoke. It was a mess, and the panic threatened to cause more damage. Jay, cursing himself and his short-sightedness, began to restore order.
The thunderous matting, kicking, slapping, and simple, clear instructions from Jay-Gul quickly bore fruit. The running became orderly and purposeful.
Not everyone was busy extinguishing. Orc feared that if there was another strike, the wells would show the bottom, and there would be nothing to extinguish the really important buildings, like the forge. So they left the badly burned houses to burn, taking out what was most valuable.
He took the most active part in eliminating the fire. The orc's tremendous strength and resistance to pain and burns saved many who stumbled or otherwise failed to get out of the burning houses. A new firestorm never came. Half an hour later, there were no more open flames. Jay told the survivors to gather for roll call. They gathered not far from the old patch. The ground was still greasy with smoke at the cathedral site itself.
There were not as many dead and missing as he feared. Five of the panicked men who'd missed the second blast of fire burned outside the houses. Two suffocated in the smoke, another was nailed by a log. A guy thought he heard a scream in a burning house and went to save them.
It could be worse.
Then one of the boyz who had gone into battle appeared. He was covered in blood and cuts, a sword scar across his muzzle, one eye in place, and a bloody hollow in place of the other.
"What's in there?" Jay grumbled enviously to the boyz.
He didn't look much better, covered with soot, abrasions, and bloodshot burns.
"We tore them up!" The boyz proudly announced. "They had to run. The ones on horseback were fast. A few got away. A few surrendered."
"How many of our men are dead?"
"Ten. Another five were chopped up but alive."
"Their boss? Their boss, what about him?"
"Their boss run away."
Jay-Gul could hardly suppress his rage.
"@?;%!"
"Don't be angry, boss. He won't get far, the horse will get tired. We'll catch up."
"Right. Okay, what about the wizards?"
The goblins slaughtered the mages. We got into a melee, while this and that, we couldn't get to them. And the goblins came from behind, scaring them off. The mages set them on fire, but the little guys did good, especially their boss. Burned all over, but he made it. Only died when he stuck a knife in the belly of a wizard. Cut up the mages, that's all. The guys sent me to ask what to do next.
"Bring them here. The living, the dead, the horses, the gear. Bring them all. We'll sort them."
"Yeah." The messenger glanced at the smoky fires, the pillar of smoke from the patch. "You had fun here, too, didn't you, boss? The boyz were worried you weren't going with the rest of them."
"Whoever was worried, let them ask me themselves. I will tell them very clearly why. It'll take a week to get their teeth together. Go ahead."
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