Refuge: Kurt's Quest by Doug Dandridge Page B

the Nords who
were in that position.  They moved aside and he stepped into the gap, hefting
the kite shield on his left arm, then moving his hand up to lower his visor. 
He would not need peripheral vision for this as much as protection from
arrows.  The wagon was jerked out of the way, and the Duke’s men let loose with
the arrows and bolts they had ready.  Half a dozen enemy went down, not enough,
as what looked like over a hundred came running into the alley, gripping
spears, swords and axes.
    Kurt took the first spear point on his shield,
returning a sword strike that cut the spear in half.  A strike by his shield
pushed the man back, and a sword thrust took out the man to that one’s left. 
Another spear thrust in, and that man screamed out and fell straight down. 
Kurt glanced over to see Garios pulling back his ax, the edge covered in the
blood of the man whose knees he had just cut through.
    After that it was a sea of snarling faces, one
pale one after another.  Kurt lost count of the men he killed.  He was aware of
men on his own side going down, and the ranks shrinking and reforming, until
there was only the one thin line which looked to break any moment.
    No , thought Kurt, pushing himself to the limit,
speeding up into a whirlwind of destruction.  His blade seemed to be
everywhere, his shield moving to where the sword was not.  Blood was
everywhere, and the pink matter of brains, as the magical sword cut through
armor like paper under the strength of his arm.  Several weapons struck his
helmet, leaving a ringing in his ears.  He was stung several times by cuts and
pokes, and the sweat was rolling off his face from his metabolism running in
hyper.  In the back of his mind was the warning from Levine, and he wondered
what would be missing from his memory after this battle.  But for there to be
an after this battle, he needed to snatch a victory from this defeat.
    And then there were no more enemies near him,
at least living ones.  He panted from the heat overload, and his muscles ached
from the acid buildup.  But he had broken the enemy attack.
    “Are you well, my friend?” asked Haraald, putting
a hand on Kurt’s big shoulder,
    “Not so much,” he told the noble.  “I am in
danger of overheating, one of the weaknesses of my kind.”
    “Then get behind us and rest, for the enemy is
regrouping.”
    Kurt looked up to see what the Duke was talking
about.  The footmen were still milling about, many of them looking nervously at
the big man who had just shattered their attack.  Sergeants and knights were in
among them, rallying them, while other knights and men at arms began to form up
with them.  And beyond those on foot were the men on horse, lances pointing to
the sky.
    “I hope your friend is successful at the gate,”
said the Duke.
    [Jackie, can you hear me,] he sent over the
telepathic link.   And recoiled as a scream came back at him.
    *     *     *
    The black ball of energy soared straight at
Jackie.  She wasn’t sure what it was, or what its effect would be when it hit
her, but it had an evil look to it, and crackled with dark energy.  It looked
like something out of a science fiction movie, and she knew what happened when
things like that hit people.
    And then it was on her, and she screamed with
panic as she felt the energy of the thing.  It had the feel of death, and she
knew that any normal person would be falling to the ground as a shriveled shell
of what they were.  She could feel a stinging as it moved through her, not at
all what she had been expecting.  And then it was through, crackling into the
air on a trajectory that took it away from anyone else.
    Jackie was screaming in her mind, aware that
someone else was in there with her for a moment.  [I’m OK,] she sent to Kurt
with the speed of thought speech, ten times faster than verbalizations.  [Some
mage just sent something that scared the hell out of me.]
    [We need you to get those other men in