Sex is a Job Description? Ch. 15

He straightened up and continued with his men, pushing quietly through the forests mountainsides as the dawn of the final cycle of the Long Night began to show signs of stirring on their left. It would still be dark by the time the battle was over, but by the time they returned to their camp it would be light again. There was no hurry to beat the light, only to beat the march of Two Tails' army.

As the rumble of the column grew louder, the raiding party took its initiative and spread out through the trees on either side of Vendr, every demon in a low crouch with his arms tucked in to his sides and head driven forward. Their weapons remained sheathed to remove the chance of their catching light of torches or lamps.

A short while later, Vendr and his men caught sight of the column on the march. Hundreds of demons in a throng nearly six abreast hurried in a forced march. Interspersed among them were Two Tails' mages, each assigned to a group of four bodyguards. Vendr motioned for his party to mirror the march and they began doing so quickly, keeping pace with the mages as checkpoints.

Vendr couldn't believe the luck he'd received. If his company timed their attack right, he could halve the number of mages under the command of Two Tails and his subordinates in a single battle. His knuckles turned white as his fingers tightened around the haft of his axe. Short of finding Two Tails himself, this was the best possible situation he could have found himself in.

Now all he needed to do was wait for Fentin's troops to make the first move and draw the column's attention so he could attack. As it stood now, if he moved on his enemy his own forces would be quickly overwhelmed and slaughtered by the sheer weight of number Two Tails possessed. And even as large as he was, Vendr had to admit that size and power were no great match for an army alone.

A horn sounded in the distance and the pulse of the column changed. It slowed, heads turning around to find the origin of the hornblow, followed by several more of its brethren. The clash of steel against steel rose over the marching of feet and the cacophony of war cries and screaming and shouted orders that accompany soon followed.

Vendr continued to hold pace as the column began its quick-march, abandoning those who had been caught behind. They were on guard. He'd have to wait for a better opportunity. He watched eyes scan the trees, trying to find demons in the darkness. Vendr knew his party was too far from the road to be seen, but even still, he held his breath every time a pair of eyes met his own.

His hesitance to attack paid off when Fentin's forward scouts fell upon a joint in the column just close enough for Vendr to see glinting blades in the barely-visible light of the Eternal Sanctum teasing the horizon.

Vendr took his axe in both hands and bolted from the trees, crossing nearly twenty feet in moments. He entered the lamplight of a soldier and uttered a war cry at the top of his lungs, aiming a strike at the startled demon's neck. His axe tore through flesh and bone and severed the demon's head easily, plastering blood across several battered and worn breastplates and helms.

Vendr shouldered three demons out of the way to make room for another swing, using the utter confusion he'd caused to great advantage. His men came in quickly, realizing that he'd begun already. Vendr swung and severed arms, legs, hands, and fingers. Blood showered like water in a river.

Fentin's first captain was a whirlwind of death, swinging wildly to either side to keep his enemies at bay as he cleaved them apart. There was no time for them to form a cohesive line or understand what was happening. They reacted as best they could individually, and matched against him they were put underfoot one-by-one.

Vendr kicked in the breastplate of a soldier and followed with a downward swing that split him in twain down to the sternum. A blade caught Vendr across his arm and he recoiled from the strike, swinging his axe and the body it was lodged in at his assailant. He put the soldier to the ground with a heavy impact and dislodged his axe from the corpse. He backed away from the growing fray to find another foe, but the column had lost so much cohesion that it was falling apart at the seams.

Demons ran in every direction. The mages who'd been unprepared for combat, were already dead or being dragged away and captured to serve Fentin now. Vendr set his axehead against the bloody ground and leaned upon it, watching Two Tails' men scatter up and retreat up the mountainside. There, they'd be picked off by the scouts and rangers in a matter of hours as the Eternal Sanctum came into view in the sky. The smart ones would abandon all their armor and try to make it to where the column had originally intended to arrive. The bold ones would attempt to release their true forms and fly.

A great cheer broke Vendr from his thoughts and he turned his head to see what occasion had rallied his troops' spirits so readily. Down the Old Road came Fentin on his hellbore, Acus. The beast's shoulders rose and fell like two massive pistons as he strode with his head down and fangs bared. Fentin held aloft a large object that looked not much unlike a snake with both hands, receiving a fresh chorus of cheers as he came closer.

"Vendr! I'd have thought you missed the raid entirely!" Fentin called, tossing the giant of a demon the object in his hands. Vendr caught it and squeezed the fleshy mass in his hand.

"So Two Tails is dead then, lord?" Vendr asked, coming to the realization that this was Two Tails' second tail in his hand. He tossed it back to Fentin, who held the thing aloft again for another round of cheers.

"Not quite; he's in these foothills somewhere. But we'll find him. I've got the trackers on his trail as we revel in our victory."

Vendr kicked his axehead and assisted its arc up to his shoulder. He hooked his arms over the haft and fell into step next to Acus as his troops began to loot the corpses strewn about the road and make short work of those demons who would have become captives had their lord not been in full flight.

"I suppose now that Two Tails is out of the war that we'll move to the Glacis River and let the lesser lords squabble over rights to the mountain forts?"

Fentin grinned widely, revealing blood-stained teeth. He wiped his bleeding nose with a gauntlet.

"Two Tails is about as bloodied as I am at the moment, which means he is not out of this war, even if he himself is soon to be a prisoner. His forces will cross the Glacis and torch the bridge before we can get there if we don't beat them to it. How rested is your company?"

"Half are resting now. By the time I return to my camp they will be rested enough to leave. In full I can have three hundred ready by the dawn, not including your auxiliaries, lord." Vendr watched Fentin as the lord mulled something over in his mind and then patted Acus' head with a bloody, mangled gauntlet.

"Break camp and make for the Glacis. I'll have my forces take the Old Road and slow them down and my cavalry across the foothills. With any luck, we'll beat the head of the column to the bridge."

With his orders set, Vendr set off back to his camp with his raiding party after they'd collected their loot. The way back was a much lengthier and arduous one than the one to the Old Road. Loaded down with weapons, trinkets, and sacks full of loot, the party made less-than-admirable time to their camp.

Upon arriving at their destination, the party came witness to a scene that darkened their hearts even after thousands of years of death at every turn.

Around the perimeter of their camp, crude wooden crosses had been erected, each one host to the corpse of one of Vendr's cavalrymen. Their entrails had been cut out and strung from the arms of the crosses like grotesque ornamentation for a party. Larger organs littered the ground, soon to be a feast for crows and other scavengers. The smell of rotting and charred flesh assailed the returning victors' senses. Blood soaked the earth.

The place reeked of death.

Vendr dropped his axe and headed for his quarters, hoping against hope that what he was thinking was wrong. He ripped down the ragged and shredded tent walls to find three of his men huddled around the small, pale body of a girl.

Vendr dropped to his knees in front of her and a sigh of relief burst from his lungs when she rolled her head weakly to face him. In a shallow, strained voice she spoke to him.

"You returned. I knew you would."

Vendr took her tiny hand in his and his men backed away. "I have returned. I..." He was at a loss for words. He lifted the pelt covering the majority of her body, knowing that he didn't want to see what was under it, but compelled to do so nonetheless.

Bandages wrapped around her waist, smelling of fresh blood and colored almost as darkly as if they'd been soaked in the stuff. Just above the knee her leg was bandaged, in much the same shape. Her left hand was wrapped in a bundle of rags and a tourniquet was tied around her forearm.

"I improved, milord," she offered with a faint smile. "I...I sang. I chanted." Tears streamed down Naia's cheeks. She raised her wounded hand to curl around one of his large fingers. "Thank you."

Her hand slowly lost tension and the baphomet lost consciousness. Vendr placed her hands under the pelt and tucked it beneath her. He lifted her unconscious body off the ground and looked to his men for an explanation.

"Well?" he asked, barely able to keep from grinding his teeth together in frustration.

One of them answered, much to the relief of the other two. "We were attacked not too long after you left. They surprised us completely. Not even the hellbores heard it coming. Most of us managed to put in to fight, but we didn't stand much of a chance. Some of us made it into the woods. Others should be coming back soon if they're not dead."

"How did this happen?" Vendr growled, nodding down to Naia's wheezing body.

All eyes were downcast now. "I don't know. I didn't see it."

Vendr turned and called for his hellbore, Rald. Out of the forest came a wounded, limping beast dragging a sizeable portion of a demon's innards across the ground with his teeth. Vendr mounted the beast and positioned Naia on the saddle in front of him, holding her steady with one arm as he gripped the reins with the other.

"We're returning to Fentin's camp. Gather what you can from here and move. Somebody inform Fentin that we will not be heading to the Glacis River."

Vendr tugged on the reins and Rald let out a wounded howl, leaping into the trees under the bloody entrails wreathing the edge of the camp. Vendr glanced down at Naia and bit his lip at the sight of her head lolling around lifelessly.

His ride was long and wearisome.