Chapter 132: Feral Zerg


    An old soldier popped his head through thedder opening at the top of the gate tower. "Is this where you''re staying?" he asked.


    I was asleep but he probably couldn''t tell because of my antler mask.


    Carney answered for me. "Shh. We be resting. Yes this is where we''re staying. He likes it here; it is central with a good view he said."


    The ferals were screeching like a choir of madmen. "How can you sleep through that?"


    I sighed. "You just block it out after a while."


    "The captain wants you," the older soldier said.


    "I''m here."


    A mask of indecision covered the old soldiers face.


    "Tell him toe here," Carney said.


    "I cannot do that."


    "Yes you can. The protector fought off the attackst night, the captain can damn welle to him."


    The old soldier grumbled and climbed down thedder.


    .


    The manor hall''s high ceilings and long arched windows provided little light to the room. The mayor, his bookkeeper, the captain, and his sergeants sat at the table sipping hot liquid.


    The mayor said to the bookkeeper, "Make note of the spear. The forestfolk will paypensation to the armoury."


    The captain''s eyes narrowed. "This is ridiculous. The protector is here helping defend the fort, you can''t charge him for the provisions we provide when he risks his life."


    The mayor shook his head. "He himself said that he signed a treaty with the duke to rid the area of monsters. I don''t know if you noticed but outside our walls is a sea of monsters. It is not his benevolence which makes him defend us, it is his duty and part of the treaty with our duke. Therefore any costs rting to food, lodging or weapons provided must be paid."


    The captain bristled. "Yesterday you doubted there was a treaty because you had not seen it and today you want to charge him costs based on the contents. Contents that you still have not seen. You flip and flop like a fish on the docks. You truly are a politician." The captain spat thest part of his reply.


    "I''ll remind you captain to show due respect."


    The captainughed dryly. "I do not report to you, I report to the head protector in Sstria who reports to the duke. And mayor, I''d like to remind you the Svartalfar is a Protector. He is not from our dukedom, but he outranks you and me."


    The mayor spat his mulled wine into a bowl. "What do we care about the forest folk''s hierarchy. They''re primitives."


    The captain sighed.


    A soldier knocked and entered. "Sir," he paused and waited for a nod. "The protector said you had toe to him."


    The mayor chuckled disdainfully.


    The captain stood. "Very well. Where is he?"


    "The gate tower still. He''s been camped there since the pre-dawn battle."


    The captain red at the mayor. "Do nothing, say nothing. If you jeopardize the defence of this fort you''ll have to answer to me."


    .


    "When will they attack next?" she asked.


    "When they attack. They''re not leaving, which only leaves one option."


    She presented a bag. "I have more vegetables for you."


    It was full of onions and carrots. I tried to hide my disappointment.


    "Sorry," she said. "What sort do you like?"


    "Leafy greens are a safe bet."


    I ate a carrot and handed the onions back; I wasn''t that hungry.


    "How do you eat so little?" she asked.


    "It''s a Svartalfar thing."


    The orks and ferals had been quiet all morning after their epic fail attacking through thekes entrance. Quiet in terms of notunching any attacks but the little bastards wouldn''t shut up.


    The captain climbed through thedder opening and joined us after a long dy. At first he said nothing and walked to the parapet to look out over the enemy. One of his sergeants joined us as he scanned the ferals.


    "Their numbers grow," he said. "Where are theying from?"


    I pointed to the sky. "Where do any of theme from."


    He sighed. "I suppose. But do you know what drives the portal storms."


    I had my theories that the game was to me, but that would not go down well to the people who lived and died here. Imagine an invasion in yournd because some rich kids wanted to y a game. You could die, but the rich kids were immortal. Oof.


    "That''s a question for the gatekeepers."


    The screeching of the ferals reached a crescendo. All our eyes were drawn to the horde outside the walls. The remaining orks whipped the ferals into a frenzy and the little bastards rushed towards us.


    The entire mob charged all threend sides of the fort. They carried ropes, poles, anddders. Most of them wielded spears and short bows. The orks harried them from behind and beat or killed any who hesitated. I marvelled at how forty orks controlled more than a thousand ferals.


    The city folk rushed to the walls and the ones resting at the ramparts began to fire crossbows. I shook my head because they fired too soon and spent far too long reloading. The captain began to bark orders, but it was a total shit fuck.


    I stood up on the parapet and Carney leaned out. She looked up at me and grinned. "Kill the bastards."


    She couldn''t see my smile beneath the mask, but a few teeth were visible through the cracks. "Sure. Count them for me."


    "You don''t want me to fight?"


    "No, just count so we know how many cores are ours."


    She peered at the screeching hoard charging towards the fort.


    I ran down and along the wall; my feet stuck to it like glue.


    "Don''t you need a weapon?" she called.


    I grabbed the first pole to reach the wall and rode it to the earth. I snapped it in half and stabbed the feral with one end before running back up onto the wall. Arrows filled the air around me and two bounced off me before a third lodged in my leg. I pulled it out as I ran and pushed over adder.


    I had to move quickly because it was the best way to avoid the hundreds of arrows sent my way. The ferals were not skilled archers but if I stood still I would quickly be a pincushion.


    I fought at full speed, running along a wall, it must have looked ludicrous. I targeteddders and poles and left the grappling hooks to the people manning the ramparts. I broke them so they could not be picked up by another feral and used again. This took valuable seconds and it was a race against the time.


    I turned and saw hundreds of ferals had made it onto the ramparts on the southern section while I was on the north. I ran and pushed ferals anddders out of my way and did not pause to break them as I made my way south.


    I stemmed the tide making it to the top as fast as I could, and I was hit by more arrows. There were two lodged in my back and another in my side. It was a war of attrition and I wasn''t sure who would fall first. Me or the ferals. There were just so many. Too many even for me.


    I couldn''t stop to stem the bleeding. If I did the walls would be overwhelmed. The crossbows began to thin their numbers and the men and women fought bravely.


    I heard them cheering me as I broke anotherdder. The steady stream had slowed. Now there were just a couple of poles being pushed towards the wall. The ferals would lean it at an angle and scramble up its length. It was quite a feat of climbing skill and bnce. They were much easier to make and carry thandders.


    A lucky arrow pierced my neck. Unlucky for me. My mouth filled with blood and thest thing I wanted was to fall to the ground amongst the ferals. I would be eaten alive. I climbed back to the tower where the captain and Carney were, and I slumped on the deck.


    "Shit," she said and pulled the arrow. She ripped her dress and ced the cloth over the hole the arrow left to stem the spurting blood. I worked my qi stitching on the wound and did not talk. I did not trust my mouth to speak, it would just spout blood.


    I swallowed the salty liquid.


    "How many arrows in you?" she said. The captain had left, he was probably below fighting the ferals.


    Iy down, I wanted to say a lot, but I couldn''t speak. She worked on bandaging me and I worked on qi stitching where I could. I closed my eyes and it felt like I floated above myself. I looked at my fine lump. It was tall and muscr; I had really worked it into shape over thest six months.


    I qi stitched the wounds until I ran low on juice. I wanted to ask her to feed me a core, but I couldn''t talk. I couldn''t move. I floated in the air above myself. Then I was pulled back to the pool.