פּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּ
Chapter Seventeen: Wings of the Night"The Marshall-General has called a staff meeting." The messenger called to Arcanum, who waved him off with a dismissive hand. The general returned to his study of the beautiful item resting on the makeshift table inside the E-Corps' scavenged tent.
"The woodwork is excellent, in the present circumstances." Arcanum touched the piece, "And the design seems to operate elegantly. But it should, since it was mine after all."
"Yes, sir." Leis Nosi agreed, "Borsy had the main drafts all set up. We only needed the wood that we have found. It might not be sungwood, but it will do for its purpose."
Arcanum picked up the item and hefted it in his arms. To the layman, it would appear to be a giant crossbow, or to be more precise, a scaled down Ballista. The surface was unfinished, but to the general's eyes, it seemed radiant. He touched the loaded bolt and grunted satisfactory at its sharpness.
"The Arbalest." Arcanum murmured thoughtfully to himself, "How many of these can you provide me?"
"Well, currently most of the Corps is occupied with your Siege Trebuchets. But we have about five Arbalests in operational order."
Arcanum glanced up through the cracks of the makeshift tent, towards the three black titans looming up high into the sky. The three siege trebuchets were capable of launching a 1-ton boulder over nearly a league. While its massive size made it impractical for the roving ways of the Band, it was perfect for a siege of a fortress. However, Arcanum still had lingering doubt about its use against Shayol Ghul.
"Five will be enough. Keep focusing on the Three Idylls. If we can't crack the shell off that fat egg, we won't be able to do much of anything."
"We have made significant progress. But we have had setbacks with the departure of Borsy." Leis Nosi shook his head sadly, "We've taken a heavy pounding in the ranks, especially at Burning Rivers, victory or not. Many brilliant minds like Borsy died on the fieldworks as reserves. But the Siege Trebuchets will reach completion by morning. Though since we dumped all our naph and brew in that river, we will have to make use with mundane stones. Airene Sedai did offer to ward some of our rounds as well."
"Good, then that is all I needed to know. I must go see what Cathon wants." Arcanum turned to leave when the entire roof of the patchwork tent collapsed. Arcanum hewed his way out with his sword, throwing the canvas from his head with a curse. He looked up and stared into the eyes of a pale winged man. Arcanum tried to bring up a sword, but he was frozen upon the spot, his muscles paralyzed by the strange cooing emanating from the creature, like a siren's song.
Arcanum could only look up into the inhuman eyes as it approached. Something whistled hard past the captured general's ears and stabbed into the creature's chest. And exploded out of its back. And further stabbed into the ground thirty paces behind the collapsing creature.
"Bloody Draghkar." Arcanum found his voice and command of his body, his sword swinging forth to decapitate the already dead shadowspawn.
"At least we know this thing worked." Leis Nosi walked up, the Arbalist slung on his shoulder, "Overkill... if there is such a thing in war."
"It is not tactical sense to send one of these creatures to kill even a general, unless...raise the alarm, Nosi. If I'm right, there's more Draghkars around. A lot more."
Arcanum crumpled up some parchment to stuff in his ears, before grabbing the Arbalist and bolt pouch from Nosi, who left at a run. Arcanum jammed in a fresh bolt and winched it up as he raced towards the more populous areas.
The swishing of a fast-moving object was the only warning before something hit him in the back, sending him sprawling. Arcanum watched his arbalest spin away, but rolled to a crouch. He pulled out his sword and jammed it into the chest of the poised Draghker, who instead gurgled and tumbled.
Arcanum pulled out his blade and kept it at ready as he retrieved his arbalest. He could hear shouts and calls from the once quiet camp, the sign of a massive raid. As he sprinted closer towards the sleeping areas, he could hear the ring of steel and the shriek of arrows. In the dead of night, he almost tripped over a body. Glancing down at the red-cloaked corpse, Arcanum blanched. Even in the dim light, it looked like something had sucked all the life out of it, its face frozen in surprise.
Arcanum came upon a still raging battle, a squad of men attacking a flying Draghkar who managed to elude their reach. Arcanum brought his arbalest to bear, checked the aim, and let fly with its bolt.
The Draghker fell like a stone.
Arcanum gave a grunt of satisfaction and reached back to discover that there was only one bolt left. He was loading it when the sentry alarms began to go off. Bugles shattered the night with their warning calls, and black hulking shapes began to stalk into the camp. The general cursed as he tried to ram the bolt into its locking carriage, as the shapes grew closer.
A grotesque bear-head loomed down at the general, when Arcanum stabbed him through the muzzle with his sword. Arcanum pulled his blade out, warm liquid dripping down into his hands. He gave up on the arbalest and began to retreat from the fringe of the camp. The Draghkers had tried to work a diversion, for this coming onslaught, and Arcanum did not feel like fighting it alone.
Rallying calls filled the night, as the Band of Red Hand recovered from the surprise attack. Knots of men formed up, and began to cut up the lone elements still present in the camp interior, and turned to face the Trollocs charging in. The fighting turned to close quarter melee, the most dangerous kind when facing creatures of larger girth and strength.
With much of the camp in turmoil, Arcanum began to call out orders to the defenders. Recognizing the general, soldiers began to rally around, a dangerous obstacle in the spawns' way. Like a blacksmith's hammer, Arcanum's company slammed into the Trolloc forces.
Arcanum slashed across a Trolloc's face, and kicked him back, to reveal the figure of an eyeless rider gazing down. Arcanum swung his arbalest up and fired, the bolt stabbing forth. The Fade grabbed the bolt in mid-flight, and snapped it contemptuously. The creature sneered and struck forth. Arcanum barely parried the blow, saved by his rapier training. Though his swordsmanship was not on par with Cathon's, he could manage his own.
The Fade did not realize that his minions lay dead around, and only too late did he realize that he was surrounded by Arcanum's men. It twisted its sword around, to hew a way out, but succeeded in only shattered a soldier's upraised iron shield. Arcanum took the opportunity to swing the arbalest into the Fade's face, its hard edge splintering upon impact. Arcanum's second blow was with his blood-blackened sword, severing the shadowspawn's milky white visage from its neck.
In one motion, the soldiers ducked away, as the corpse shivered and thrashed, and finally stilled when it apparently realized that it was past sundown.
Arcanum glanced around to see only the figures of humans, with the Trolloc raid quashed. He glanced at his sword, hammered of the best Manetheren steel, drenched in the corrosive spawn ichors. He withdrew a handkerchief and wiped clean his sword to the best of his abilities, and threw away the dissolving shred of cloth. He regarded the bodies lying around, and bid good duty to the men who had rallied around him.
As the soldiers began to dissolve into the night, Arcanum remembered that he had a meeting to attend. He sheathed his sword, gazed sadly upon the shattered remains of the arbalest spread across the ground and strolled away toward the direction of HQ.
פּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּפּצּ