The Ghost's Crusade

XVI: Akkali

"Going for Baedorn or Wessinberg?"

"West flank of Wessinberg is about to be obliterated." She grinned and felt the stitches in her head tug in dissent. "Should be a good show."

The Inferi gave her his disapproving frown and said, "We could at least try and help."

"Help?" A mocking laugh rose from the back of her throat. "They were probably going to strip Baedorn of every defense it has as part of their hundred-year-long pissing contest. I say let them squirm. Or be squished." Looking over at the first of the massive homunculi to emerge from the treeline and head for the soldiers she added, "Looking to be both. Hate to be the one having to identify those corpses."

"Tiernan's out there you know."

"That's his own fault, now isn't it. I don't care what happens to the idiot."

"I thought you were getting along so well," he retorted with a pouting expression that looked utterly ridiculous on the face of a fully grown man.

"I was putting up with him for your sakes." She shook her head and sighed, "If you and Arathron want to help, fine. But the moment those idiots turn on me thinking the homunculi are my doing I will kill everyone between me and the nearest entrance to the warrens."

Drystan shrugged. "We can live with that."

He urged the horse into a full gallop straight towards the lines of the unawares army. They were still hundreds of yards away when the first homunculus broke through the treeline and hammered an unsuspecting pikeman straight into the ground like a rail spike. The construct tore through the Wessinberg lines like a child in a nursery filled with stacked blocks, sending armored men flying about haphazardly each time it swung its massive arms from side to side. Its twin crashed through the lines a hundred or so yards further north, and, finding that area significantly less populated, began lifting up and hurling whatever objects it could find within its reach in a southern direction-including the poor sods sentenced to guarding the flank who had fallen asleep on duty and now were hurtling through the air like people missiles.

"Shit," Akkali murmured, rising up in the saddle so she could look over Drystan's bouncing mop of wet hair. Slinking through the shadows she could see dozens more homunculi, ones of a more manageable skirmish-like size, rushing towards the already scattering forces of Wessinberg's lines. Unlike their troll-like companions they were fashioned to be quick and deadly, and judging by the numbers she counted up, they comprised the bulk of whatever forces Basilides had managed to create. "There's more than we can deal with on our own out there, Drys. A lot more."

Drystan pulled the horse to a halt. "Tiernan's men should still be in the barracks or making their way to the gates. They wouldn't have left until it stopped raining. They'll have the discipline to fight them."

Jumping from the saddle she petted Jansa on the head. The dog was already circling and whining at the vicious bone-snapping sounds of the rather one-sided battle going on ahead of them, nervous about all the death and destruction going on around her. "Go get them then, for all the good it'll do. There's not going to be much of Wessinberg left once they muster out."

"I'll bring them around the west. If I know Tier he's already trying to get those idiots to push them back."

"Fat lot of good that'll do them," she muttered, watching as one of the giant homunculi swatted a Wessinberg cavalryman off the back of his horse like a fly, snapping the neck of the poor animal in the process. "Their lines are already gone."

"Try and do what you can," said Drystan, pulling out the long staff he kept around but rarely used. "Arathron says borrow this."

The Enkiri grabbed the staff from his hand and felt an odd, icy tingle ripple through her fingers all the way up to her shoulder and disappear into her neck. "Did Caspar hex this with something?"