Chương 48: Chapter 35: Dravak - The Pack Bleeds

Rain came the next day. It slicked leaves and turned the forest floor into sucking mud. Armor straps darkened and softened. Cloaks clung to shoulders and backs. Every step pulled at feet and ankles, making even a careful march loud and clumsy. By midday, exhaustion had begun to show. One of Kesh's forward Scouts stumbled twice within a hundred paces. Several shield bearers had allowed the points of their spears to droop, dragging the butts through the mud. Kesh called a brief halt beneath the trees.

She opened one of the Quickleaf bundles and gave a single leaf to each of the two forward Scouts, then selected three Warriors from the front of the column.

"We aren't fighting yet," one of them said.

"You're also barely lifting your feet." The Warrior glanced down at the mud holding his ankles. Kesh pointed north.

"Chew. You'll take the next stretch at the front. When it wears off, you fall back." The five goblins obeyed. Within minutes, their pace improved. The Scouts ranged farther ahead, while the three Warriors resumed their places near the front with their spears held properly. The wolves hit them before the leaves wore off. Five direwolves burst from the trees at less than thirty paces, their charge silent until it was already upon them. There was no time to choose ground or build a clean line.

"Line. Spears up," Dravak barked, already turning and swinging his axe. Spears came up unevenly. Shield bearers scrambled forward where they could, boots sliding, but the wolves struck before the formation could settle. Two slammed into the front, jaws snapping and shoulders hitting like battering rams. A shield cracked. A goblin went down hard, breath torn from him as the impact folded him into the mud. Spear points drove in and forced the wolf to recoil long enough for the goblin to claw his way upright.

The other three wolves split wide through the brush and dripping ferns, moving where the goblins were slowest. Dravak stepped into the first two and met them head-on. His axe came around as one lunged, a paw sweeping for his skull. Dravak ducked beneath the blow, altering the trajectory of his own swing. The strike that should've taken the wolf's neck bit into its shoulder instead. Bone cracked. The wolf reeled backward, howling, then staggered back into the rain, wounded but alive.

The second came low, teeth snapping for Dravak's leg. He twisted, jumped, and brought the axe down as he landed. The blade crashed through the wolf's skull and dropped it instantly. Nearby, Kesh had no time to climb and no room to draw her bow. A wolf burst from the brush and lunged directly at her. Kesh dropped her bow and brought her spear across her body just before its jaws reached her.

The direwolf bit through the shaft with a single crunch, splintering the wood between its teeth, and the force of its charge hurled her onto her back. She struck the ground hard, one broken half of the spear still clenched in her hand as the wolf came down over her. She twisted, kept the teeth from her throat, tore the broken spearhead free, and stabbed it deep into the wolf's chest. The beast ripped away snarling, blood pumping from the wound, then limped into the trees rather than pressing the attack.

Dravak's voice cut through the chaos as he shouted orders. Battlefield Command forced some order into the confusion, but rain and mud swallowed precision and slowed every movement. The wolves moved more cleanly, darting in and out, snapping at legs and arms, pressing every stumble. The five goblins who'd taken Quickleaf reacted faster than the others. One Scout saw a wolf cutting through the ferns and shouted before it could strike the rear of the line.

A shield bearer turned in time to catch the impact upon his board rather than his ribs. Throk roared and activated Fury Surge. He crashed into the press like something unchained, his shield slamming into a wolf's flank hard enough to knock it sideways. When another snapped at the goblin beside him, Throk shoved himself into the path of the bite. Teeth scraped across his armor and tore into the flesh beneath, but he only laughed and drove his sword up beneath the beast's ribs. The wolf thrashed once, then collapsed.

A goblin screamed nearby. The last uninjured wolf had slipped through the confusion and clamped onto a thigh. Muscle crushed. Flesh tore. The goblin fell hard, his ruined leg folding beneath him as his spear skidded from his grip. Dravak and Throk moved together. Dravak drove his axe edge-first into its skull while Throk slid his sword to the hilt between its ribs. It too collapsed, jaws loosening as its weight sagged across the fallen goblin. The remaining wounded wolves didn't linger.

One vanished into the rain, favoring its broken shoulder. Another fled despite the spear wound in its chest, blood streaking its path through the undergrowth. No one chased them. When the noise faded, the steady patter of rain filled the space it left. Kesh walked the churned ground before reporting to Dravak. Three direwolves lay dead in the mud, while two others had escaped wounded. Around them, the Ironfang began dragging themselves back together. Spears were retrieved. Shields were lifted from the mud.

Those still standing searched the ground for anyone who wasn't. One goblin lay motionless beneath a cloak, his belly torn open. Another sat slumped against a tree, teeth clenched, both hands pressed around his ruined leg. Dravak knelt before him.

"You can't march on that," he said.

"You go back to the cavern. Now." The goblin looked down at the blood soaking into the mud, then up at Dravak. His face was pale, but his eyes remained steady.

"No. I stay." Dravak stared at the ruined leg. The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"You will bleed out before nightfall." The goblin nodded once.

"I know." He pointed with a shaking hand toward a nearby Warrior holding a shield.

"Give me that. Help me stand with the rest. I will stay and fight for the Ironfang." Throk grunted in approval. His eyes dropped to the shattered leg, then rose to the goblin's face. He gave a small nod to himself. This goblin had chosen a Warrior's death. The wounded goblin met Dravak's eyes.

"If I try to go back, I will die on the trail. If I stay, I might die killing another wolf. Either way, I will die for the tribe." He drew a ragged breath.

"I'd rather do it facing them with a spear in my hands." Rain ran down his face and mixed with the blood beneath him. Dravak just stared at him for a long moment. Then he nodded.

"Give him a shield," he ordered.

"Bind the leg tight. Two of you keep him upright. He will hold the line until he can't." The goblin grinned through clenched teeth as the shield was pressed into his hands. As the warband gathered itself, the Quickleaf released its hold on those who had taken it. They slowed almost at once, shoulders sagging as exhaustion returned and faint nausea settled into their stomachs.

While they recovered, the rest of the Ironfang moved across the battlefield and skinned the dead wolves, hiding the pelts once again for later collection. Nothing would go to waste. Once finished, they moved again, slower and more careful now, blood marking their path through the trees. Rain continued falling, washing away tracks, hiding signs, and distorting scent trails. Somewhere ahead, wounded wolves limped back toward their den, and the Ironfang followed.

By that evening, the hours of rain and pursuit had blurred together. The Ironfang baited a clearing with game and took their positions among the trees and undergrowth. Six heavier wolves eventually crept from the forest and fell upon the meat. Before the attack began, Kesh had passed the wounded Warrior where he waited behind his shield. He held out a hand. She looked at him.

"It won't fix your leg," she said.

"I didn't ask it to." Kesh looked down at the ruined limb, then placed two Quickleaves in his palm.

"Two," she said.

"And no more." He chewed them without complaint, though the bitterness pulled his lips back from his teeth. When Kesh gave the signal, the Ironfang struck from their hiding places. The wolves didn't scatter or panic. They rotated instead, two wolves engaging at a time while the others hovered just beyond spear reach, darting in whenever a goblin overextended and slipping away when a point came too close. The first goblin died with his skull crushed in a single bite.

There was no cry, only a dull, final sound, and then the space where he'd been fighting stood empty. The wounded goblin stepped into that space. His ruined leg shook beneath him, but he planted it anyway and raised his shield. When another direwolf charged, he met it head-on. The impact drove him backward, and his injured leg folded with a wet crack. He collapsed, but he kept the shield raised as the wolf lunged again, its jaws snapping inches from his face.

He stabbed upward desperately, holding it away for just one moment longer. That moment was enough. Spears drove into the wolf from both sides, punching through ribs and belly. It died thrashing over the goblin, its weight pinning him against the churned earth. He didn't rise. Dravak cut another wolf down himself, his axe biting deep. Even then, the first strike didn't drop it cleanly. Thick muscle turned the blow aside, and the wolf's weight slammed into him hard enough to rattle bone.

Ironblood Surge hardened him against the impact. He held his footing rather than giving them the opening they wanted. Throk fought wherever the press grew thickest, taking the work no one else could survive. Kesh's arrows ruined timing and balance, stealing speed and turning clean charges into clumsy ones. Dravak moved through the battlefield like a force of nature, blocking blows and cleaving through flesh and bone. When the final wolf tried to break and run, Dravak sent the warband after it without hesitation.

It died with a spear through its chest. As the clearing fell quiet, two more Ironfang lay dead among the blood and torn ground. The Quickleaf had already begun abandoning those who had taken it. Two Warriors sat heavily where they stood, their spears resting across their knees. Another pressed a fist against his stomach and breathed slowly through the nausea. The shield was unstrapped from the fallen goblin's arm and passed forward to another fighter without ceremony. A spear was pulled from stiffening fingers.

The dead were carried aside and buried before the warband moved on. The Ironfang skinned the six direwolves where they lay, working quickly despite the rain. They camped beneath the trees that night, too exhausted to march farther and too alert to sleep deeply. Watches changed often, spears remained within reach, and every distant howl pulled tired eyes toward the darkness. By morning, the rain had eased to a thin drizzle.

Kesh led the warband deeper north, following tracks through sodden brush until the trees opened around a shallow marsh where solid ground vanished beneath dark water and reeds. She lifted one hand, stopping the column before anyone stepped into the open. Four direwolves lingered beyond the far side of the basin. One worried at the remains of a deer while the others prowled beneath the trees nearby, occasionally lifting their heads to test the air. They hadn't yet noticed the goblins watching them from cover.

Kesh crouched at the marsh's edge and tested the ground with her spear. The point sank deep before finding resistance. She worked her way along the basin slowly, marking the patches that would bear a goblin's weight and those that would swallow anything heavier. Once she'd found a safe path, she drew back beneath the trees and began arranging the trap. A particularly quick goblin would cross the open ground, allow the wolves to see him, then retreat along the path Kesh pointed out.

The rest of the Ironfang spread along the firm edges of the marsh, hidden among reeds and dripping brush. Before the bait goblin moved, Kesh checked the remaining Quickleaf. Only a handful of leaves remained. She gave one to him, then distributed the rest among the Warriors who would stand closest to the marsh's edge.

"This is the last of it," she whispered.

"Chew now. We wait until it takes hold." The goblins obeyed. Several minutes passed before their breathing steadied and the weariness began to lift from their faces. Across the basin, the direwolves remained near their kill, unaware of the spears waiting beyond the reeds. Only then did she send the bait goblin out into the open. The four wolves took the bait immediately and charged. The goblin turned and ran, panic and fear mixing on his face. Mud took the first wolf to the knees. The second sank to its belly.

The third thrashed sideways, trapped. The fourth skidded to a halt too late, then tried to turn away. Kesh caught it with a Crippling Shot before it could build speed. The leg folded wrong beneath it, leaving the beast hobbled at the edge of the basin. The warband advanced and spears punched downward. Teeth still found flesh. One goblin screamed as his arm was torn away in a single bite, but the mud claimed the wolves regardless.

The one-armed goblin threw himself into the path of a massive paw and took the blow meant for the Warrior beside him. Claws opened him without effort. The wolves sank deeper into the marsh and stilled one by one, snapping and thrashing until their final moments. None escaped. The warband regrouped along the edge of the basin. The last Quickleaf users began to falter as the effect ended. The bait goblin made it to firm ground before dropping to his knees and vomiting into the reeds.

Another goblin sank onto his shield, his eyes closed while exhaustion rolled through him. Kesh gave them only enough time for the worst of it to pass. Fewer Ironfang stood now, but those who remained stayed on their feet. Over the rest of the day, the signs began to change. Tracks grew scarcer. No half-eaten kills marked the forest floor, and the trails that remained all bent northward. The howls still carried through the trees after dark, but they no longer answered from scattered hunting grounds.

They rose from the same distant place now, close together, as though the surviving pack had drawn inward around something it meant to defend. When the warband paused in late afternoon, Throk spat into the mud and rolled his shoulders.

"That's it," he said.

"They're done ranging." Kesh crouched beside a churned patch of earth, studying the overlapping prints.

"We've cut them hard. Nineteen by my count." Throk grinned.

"Nineteen wolves for six goblins. I've seen worse trades." Kesh looked up at him.

"Six spears we won't have tomorrow. Six Hunters and Warriors who won't bring food back when winter comes." She rose and wiped the mud from her fingers.

"Don't call it a good trade. Call it the one we had to make." Throk gave a loose shrug.

"If the Scouts counted right before, there can't be more than ten or fifteen adults left."

"And every one of them will be together now," Kesh said.

"At the den." His grin widened.

"Good. No more chasing them through rain and trees. We find the hole, go in, and finish it." Dravak listened without interrupting. Beyond the marsh, the ground rose through darker forest, the trees crowding closer as they climbed north. Somewhere beneath those slopes, the remaining wolves waited with the pups Grub had asked him to spare.

"They won't hunt again," he said.

"Not after losing this many." Kesh shook her head.

"No. They'll stay close to the den and fight until none of them can stand."

"That suits me," Throk said.

"It should worry you," Kesh replied.

"They'll know every approach. They won't break to save themselves, and they won't be spread out when we reach them." She turned toward Dravak.

"If we rush in blind, we may still kill them. We may also lose enough goblins that winter finishes what the pack started." Dravak looked north again. The Ironfang had bled the wolves across ground of their own choosing. The den would offer no such kindness.

"Then we don't go in blind." He turned toward the warband waiting behind them and raised his voice enough for them to hear.

"We camp on high ground tonight. Away from the marsh, with enough open earth to see anything coming." His gaze moved across the gathered goblins.

"Scouts. Three groups. Find the den. Watch every path leading in and out. Count the wolves, mark the ground, and do not let them see you." Kesh was already choosing goblins before he finished.

"Return before dawn," Dravak called after them.

"Tomorrow, we end this." Throk settled his shield against his arm and stared north into the trees.

"Tomorrow," he said. A howl rolled through the forest. Others answered from the same distant place, one after another, until the sound gathered into a single rising chorus. Dravak listened until it faded.

"Tomorrow."