Belly of the Beast Warren Thomas (e novels for free .txt) 📖

pulled tight and the ropes began to creak under the strain of zombies climbing up.

            “Attack the ropes!” Tane called, yanking Quinn to a stop.

            More grapnels were flying over the battlements even as Tane hacked at the first taut rope. He was surprised to find his sword wouldn’t part the rope in a single cut. He had made that sword, and knew it to have an incredibly keen and durable edge. But Bearclaw just cut a few strands with each stroke.

            “Sweet Mother preserve us!” Quinn bellowed, not unlike a Tyrian warrior. “The bastards are learning!”

            A beam of sunlight hit the rope just right, and flashed bright light into Tane’s eyes. Steel! They had woven steel wire into the rope. And good steel, too, if Tane was any judge.

            “Axes! We need axes up here!” Tane shouted down to the soldiers heading towards the walls.

            “Stand aside, boy!” a huge Tyrian ordered. His battle-axe rested lightly on his shoulder as his golden brown eyes twinkled with battle delight. “Watch how I send these craven dogs to their pox-ridden God!”

            His axe flashed out, cleaving the thick steel and hemp rope cleanly. Bellowing with laughter, he marched down the catwalk joyfully severing the ropes. But even as he did so, three more grapnels came over the wall for everyone he cut. And in places the zombies had already made the battlements and were fighting with soldiers. A moment later, the Tyrian was also embroiled in the fight.

            A dark movement to his right alerted Tane, but too late. Expecting an attack by a zombie, he was unprepared to fend off the iron grapnel streaking over the wall straight at him. Only his helmet saved his life as the heavy projectile smashed into his right temple.

            Light and darkness flashed behind his eyes, with pain lancing down to his feet. A second later, more pain as he fell heavily to the cobbled walkway. Countless men and women trampled him in their desperation to push the zombies back over the walls.

            “Tane?” Quinn asked, shielding his friend’s body with his own and gently slapping his face.

            Tane tried to answer, but couldn’t find the breath or control needed. He understood what was happening, and the danger to himself, but couldn’t even focus his eyes. The sounds of men and women dying around him demanded he get control of himself and help them.

            Strong arms wrapped around his chest and dragged him for what seemed an eternity. By the time he was laid in the shadow of the tower, Tane’s eyes were becoming his to command again. The scene that came to him was hellish, and easily the most bloody and savage fight so far. The zombies were learning. Yes, slowly but surely they were learning how to fight with what little cunning they still possessed, and that scared Tane more than anything else.

            The pinnacle of the tower looming over Tane and Quinn exploded in sorcerous fire. The priests and mages fighting there were consumed by arcane fires, with many choosing to fling themselves over the sides to escape the hellish fires torturing them.

            A struggling pair fell from the tower to land at Tane’s feet in a cloud of black smoke. The vile stench of burning human flesh assaulted Tane even as he recognized the horror of what happened. The priest of Ashtar was clearly dead, his golden hair evaporating in the fire consuming his broken body. The zombie, though also being consumed by fire, was still alive and continuing to squeeze the priest’s broken neck. In a fit of tearful rage Tane found his feet and plunged Bearclaw through the zombie’s heart.

            Dakar’s grey-robed priests were lined up just out of bow range, magically orchestrating the attack. Zombies in the thousands still patiently waited their turned to climb the ropes and join the battle. Many more zombies than Kestsax had soldiers, and more zombies were shuffling out of the forest all the time.

            Suddenly, the scene before him changed. Instead of chanting and gesturing priests, of silent and grim zombies, he saw a dark road through a lush forest – and a gleaming city in the distance. A city he knew to be far to the south. A city he had to go to.

            “Caeren,” Tane said, then shook himself out of the trance.

            “Who?” Quinn asked, glancing back at him. “Who is Karen?”

            Tane blinked at Quinn, momentarily forgetting who he was. Then it came to him.

            “The city of Caeren, below the Thanir Mountains,” he said, brow creased in concentration. In truth, Tane knew he had never heard of any city by that name, but at the same time knew it existed. And he knew what he must do. “I have to go to Caeren. In Caeren I will stop Dakar.”

            “You! You alone, a mere human, are going to stop a God, just like that?” Quinn asked, turning fully around to face his friend. Then understanding dawned on the half-elf’s face, and he gave Tane a fatherly smile. “Sit down, my friend. You have taken a bad blow to the head, and – ”

            “And nothing,” Tane snapped. “Kamain is sending me south, to Caeren. Now I know, Quinn. There is a deed that I, and I alone, must do.”

            Tane saw horror on his friend’s face. A soul deep fear his friend was throwing away his life.

            “You have to go alone?”

            “Yes,” Tane said, though knowing it was a lie.

            His dreams, nightmares, had always shown him traveling with Quinn, Joelle, Armin, and Raven. But, they had also shown his friends all being destroyed. And at no time did he see any “benefit” to himself or humanity as a whole come of their senseless deaths. He couldn’t allow it to happen, so he would go alone to face Dakar.

            A great soulful wail of despair rose up from the city. Tane and Quinn turned in time to see the iron-bound portal of the Stone