Chapter 19 - Springing the Trap

A haunting chorus echoed up from the trees. A maddening, gibbering laughter that grated and chewed at your nerves like a barber-surgeon’s rusty saw with its unceasing discordant cacophony.

Malfus stared down at the gnolls from the battlements. They pounded on their shields, chittered and cackled, howling and baying at the moon. All still out of crossbow range. All still beyond the range of the dead gnolls placed in the field. More continued to come, oozing out from the woods like a festering wound.

That unceasing racket. Can’t they just attack and get it over with?

“There are a lot of those buggers out there.” One of the soldiers next to Malfus said, giving up on trying to count them for perhaps the third time now while they waited.

Certainly more than I’ve ever seen. But that goes without saying.

“Yeah, but at least some of them are going to be fighting for us now.” Morten said, trying desperately to sound hopeful.

“At least they don’t have a giant with him this time.” The counting soldier chimed in. “Maybe they lost heart after you killed their giant last night, Morten.”

“Morten the giant-slayer!” Kaye said, clapping Morten on the back.

“It was Heimrich.” Morten mumbled to his boots, feeling like quite the opposite of a hero.

Malfus looked at the sprawling throng. Giant or not, there were more gnolls packed out there amongst the trees than he’d seen people packed in the Akkadian town square on market day.

Malfus wondered how much use his undead would be. Even with his added additions to bolster the defenses, they were still greatly outnumbered. Perhaps by three-to-one, maybe even more, and that was counting the living as well.

Just then a distant horn sounded, a low baleful howl from somewhere further within the trees. The horde of gnolls roared a singular howling battle cry in response, then charged forward. They came in a creeping flood that slowly gained in speed, momentum, and volume. Charging forward like a savage tide. Surging like the ocean. Pouring from the trees.

“Here they come, lads!” Corporal Kaye shouted.

As if we needed to be told that.

“Make ready!” First Sergeant Goren’s voice echoed from below. The remaining soldiers held onto their weapons, looking warily at the undead in front of them, near the edge of the pit. A soldier’s trumpet sounded a countercry to the gnoll’s horn, but it made a feeble brassy plea that sounded more like a pitiful cry for help than a sound fit for a battle.

The gnolls kept surging forward, spilling across the field like a swollen riverbank. Their shrill, high-pitched howls and yips changed to low guttural growls and roars, accentuated by the constant thundering rhythm of hundreds of footsteps pounding on the earth. Flickering yellow eyes flashed like flecks of gold in the cloud of dust behind the charging frontline.

Malfus knew that Morten, Kaye and the others were shouting right next to him, but all their voices sounded distant and muted, like his head was underwater. His ears were ringing. His face felt hot. His throat was dry. And it felt like there was a hollow pit where his stomach was supposed to be.

They were close enough now that Malfus could start to make out the individual gnolls. He could see the different patterns of spots on their mangy, mottled fur. Their snarling faces bared long yellow fangs.

Their armor may have looked patchwork and shoddy, but their weapons looked sharp enough. A bizarre assortment of bladed, spiked, and blunt implements ready for murder. Some of the beastmen had their weapons strapped on their backs and ran on all fours at the front of the pack. Their yelling roars reached a feverish crescendo as they got closer to the mid-point of the field. Where the zombies were waiting.

This is it. No turning back now.

Malfus swallowed his fear, then gripped the side of the battlements to steady himself as he transferred his awareness to the crow. Then, instead of the stones at his fingertips, there was wind flowing between his feathers. He was flying high above the field. Malfus could see the churning dust from the wave of bodies directly below him. The front of the gnoll line was just now passing over the zombies, while the tail-end of the gnolls finally left the trees.

Just a little bit further…

Malfus swapped his awareness from the crow down to one of the zombie-gnolls laying below. He heard the ceaseless patter of footsteps all around him, like a torrential downpour of deafening rain. A gnoll kicked the zombie in the face, stumbling over it in the dark. It yelped in surprised then reeled, falling forward on top of the body. He heard the gnoll yelp and squeal as it was trampled to death right on top of the zombie and obstructing Malfus’s view.

Well, that one still counts.

Malfus was about to swap to the next gnoll, when a nagging, prickling, distant voice called him back to his own body.

“Should we start firing?” Morten asked Malfus again. Malfus looked and saw all the other soldiers along the wall looking over at him, waiting for his command. I’m a necromancer, not the bloody commander.

“Yes! Yes, fire as many bolts as you want at the bastards! Just wait until you light them.”

“Fire! Fire! You heard him!” Kaye yelled.

As the command echoed down the wall the barks of crossbows answered in response. Men firing on the gnolls below them, nearly at the wall now. The gnolls in front were at the wall now. They looked like grains of sand in an hourglass as they wedged into the narrow gap where the gate used to be. They are packing in and pushing, starting to scramble up the rubble barricade stacked in the gap right below them.

Malfus swapped back to another gnoll. All he was aware of were waves of bodies thundering over him. Slowly, the tide started to dwindle. Slowly, the footsteps thinned out.

Just a little more…

The pounding footsteps were starting to subside. The end of the gnoll ranks was almost near. One of the last stragglers stabbed the corpse with a spear as it ran by, a random act of violence to hold it over until it got a chance to stab something living.

“Now! Light!” Malfus yelled.

“Light!” Corporal Kaye yelled. As the command was echoed down the wall, dozens of orange pinpricks lit up in Malfus’s peripheral vision.

Now! Arise!

Malfus pulled at the strands of his webs that connected him to the distant gnolls. Bringing them to life, like the marionette puppeteers that came to festivals in Akkadia, putting on shows for the children for a few spare coppers. Malfus pulled at the strings, bringing his puppets to life, although he had a show of an entirely different kind in mind.

Malfus could see the thirty zombie-gnolls arise from the ground, feeling his connection to each one of them. The living gnolls just in front of them kept marching unceasingly forward, unaware that a few extra additions had joined their ranks.

Malfus sent the telepathic command to charge through his web, then swapped his awareness to the point of view of one of the zombie-gnolls in the back. A second later, Malfus was aware of the earth crunching beneath its claws as it ran on all fours. The living gnolls were right in front of it. Malfus could feel its mindless anger burning inside it like a festering rot. A raging desire to snuff out any sign of life. Except, of course, those that Malfus identified as off-limits.

As silent as the sky’s shadow, it leapt from the ground, crashing into the gnoll in front of it like a swing from an ogre’s maul. They rolled on the ground in a tangle of limbs and a cloud of dust. Once they came to a stop, the gnoll looked up, shocked and confused, its questions left forever unanswered as the zombies clawed fists came smashing down on its face. Smashing again and again until its skull crunched, then burst like an overripe melon, leaving behind a pool of dark, sticky, black ichor and bone fragments.

Malfus saw another confused gnoll looking at the zombie as it sat on top of the gore-covered corpse. Malfus had the zombie stand, then reach out with its bloody claws and grab the gnoll in front of it by both sides of its head. The other gnoll barely even fought back as the zombie grabbed it, too surprised to understand what was going on. Then the zombie casually leaned forward and bit the gnoll’s face off. Malfus could see the warm blood flow. He could hear the yelp of pain and the howls abruptly ended.

More gnolls were looking at the zombie now. One stabbed it with a spear, impaling it all the way through the torso. The zombie-gnoll ignored the spear and pressed forward, clawing at the air in front of it. Pulling itself closer and closer to the gnoll who only stared in disbelief as it held onto the spear. The zombie slashed at it, ripping its throat out with one swipe of its clawed hand. Blood spurted as the gnoll let go of the spear to hold on to its torn throat instead, gurgling its last breaths.

Next to it, a different zombie grabbed a gnoll by the shoulder, yanking with so much force it spun around while it was running. Then the zombie ripped out its throat with a single slash from its bony claws. The gnoll let out a gurgling yelp of protest as it crumpled to the ground like a bag of hammers.

Malfus pulled his awareness back to himself. He paused briefly as he shuddered from the gore as well as from surprise at the zombie-gnolls raw strength.

Small pockets of fear and panic were starting to spread in the back ranks, but it wasn’t enough yet. The rest of the gnolls kept charging forward, oblivious to the zombies’ carnage in the rear.

The gnolls below Malfus scrambled up the stone barricade, loose rocks skittered and tumbled down the pile as the first of the gnolls began to crest the top of it. Soldiers directly above them shot at them with crossbows or threw stones on them, dropping a few gnolls that rolled limply down the slanted rock pile after the loose stones.

The first gnolls that crested the barricade, hesitated as they saw the drop below opening up to the spiked pit, but an uncaring press of bodies surged forward pushing the front rank face first down the rocks. Their efforts of being the quickest and most eager were rewarded by being trampled to death by the ranks behind them.

Now. We need the fire now.

Malfus looked down the wall. The sound of ratcheting windlasses, the bark and twang of crossbows, and the whistling-hiss of flaming bolts filled the air, lighting up the night sky with flickering orange dots.

“Why hasn’t anyone shot one of the zombies yet?” Malfus shouted to Morten as he was cranking his windlass.

“Which ones are the zombies?” Morten yelled back.

“Can’t bloody see them! They all look the damn same from up here!” Kaye shouted, as he took aim with his crossbow and took another shot.

Through his mental connection to them, Malfus knew exactly where each and every one of the zombie-gnolls were in the back ranks, but he sure as sin couldn’t shoot a crossbow. Malfus’s eyes darted back and forth along the back rank as his mind raced, trying to find a way to salvage his plan.

“Just keep firing! Aim for the ones in back!” Malfus shouted. “I’ll take care of the rest!” Malfus gripped the side of the rampart wall to brace himself as he switched his awareness back to one of the zombie-gnolls.

Malfus looked up from the perspective of one of the zombie-gnolls. A flaming arrow sailed uselessly overhead, landing too far away. Malfus swapped to another zombie. This one had gotten pushed too far forward and was in the midst of a crowd of gnolls, kicking, biting, clawing, anything within its reach. You just… keep doing your thing.

Malfus swapped to another one, but every time a flaming arrow got close, the fire was already extinguished by the time he got there.

Then Malfus saw it. His chance. A flaming bolt sailed through the air then struck a gnoll in the eye, dropping it instantly to the ground. The shaft stuck from the gnoll’s eye socket, still burning. Malfus ran the zombie-gnoll over to the corpse. Pushing through the crowd of gnolls around it to get to the flickering flame before it went out. The well-oiled zombie-gnoll slid through the gnolls around it as it ran, trying to reach its prize. The glowing trophy lay there on the ground, waiting to be claimed. The zombie reached down and plucked it from the eye socket with two bony fingers. Then it erupted in flame.

A bright bursting glow of orange light was visible in the night sky to everyone on the wall. Malfus saw the gnolls spread from the flames as quickly as they could, separating like oil and water. He could hear the gnolls scream and howl in fright, running to get away.

Like a weaver at his loom, Malfus pulled on the invisible strings within his mind, pulling the other nearby zombie-gnolls to the one that was still wreathed in fire, weaving a tapestry of flames in the darkness. The next zombie burst into flames, and then another one. Then Malfus had those zombies run to still others down the line. Soon there was an entire line of bright orange beacons in the back line behind the gnolls.

Not all the zombies-gnolls were ignited, but of the thirty Malfus had put out there, at least twenty of them had been. Twenty flaming zombies sowing absolute havoc amongst the ranks of the gnolls. One zombie just grasped a gnoll in a bearhug until it died in its burning embrace. The flaming zombies herded the gnolls forward better than any shepherding dog could have.

The flames quickly spread to the tall dry grass, creating a creeping curtain of fire that spread around the gnolls. Panic and fear spread through their ranks faster than the spreading blaze. Their whoops and war cries wilted into shrill shrieks of terror as the gnolls ran from the flames. They trampled and clawed over one another to get away from the fire. It appeared to be having the desired effect below. As the rear ranks surged forward to get away from the flaming zombies, a wave traveled through the gnolls, inevitably forcing them forward to the bottleneck in the front. The gnolls in the front were forced through the gap into the pit. The ones in front that couldn’t make it were flattened against the stone wall.

With each new death, Malfus could feel tiny bursts of negative energy bloom from below him, creating ripples of energy that coursed through him. He could feel gnolls getting crushed underfoot, suffocating. Feel them being smashed against the stone wall. Malfus smiled as he felt the death energy wash over him, storing it for later use.

By now, the smell of burnt fur and flesh reached them all the way up on the wall, even from across the field. One of the burning gnoll corpses had almost been completely incinerated from the waist up, only a black, charred skeleton remained with legs still burning below, and still it lurched forward after the gnolls. Malfus could feel his connection to a few of the zombie-gnolls fizzle out as the flames consumed their corpses completely.

Malfus was starting to become aware of more information from his zombies at once. It was difficult at first, sifting through the information that was feeding to him from all the different strands in his vast web. Even though it was a vague awareness, like seeing out of your peripheral vision while focusing on another main focal point, he could still feel them all. Out of the thirty in the field he had started with, two dozen remained now. More than half still burning as they tightened their ranks along the back of the pack of gnolls. Corralling them in like lambs to the slaughter.

Come on, just a little further… Keep herding them in.

As the gnolls were forced forward from behind, they hurled themselves through the breach, over the broken stones and shattered timber. The gnolls in the front were pushed down into the pit, quickly filling it up to capacity with more gnolls still trying to crowd in. They screamed and shouted in their bestial tongue, as they saw the spikes at ground level in the front and sides of the pit. They tried to turn away, tried to stop, but the inevitable, uncaring tide carried them forward, grinding them slowly into the spikes.

Your turn.

Malfus turned his attention to the zombie-gnolls lying in wait at the bottom of the pit. It was packed so tightly in the pit that half of the zombies couldn’t even stand up. This didn’t pose a problem, however, as Malfus just had them rip the gnolls down to the ground with them. They grabbed the unsuspecting gnolls by the feet or started chewing through their legs. The ones that could stand began clawing, biting, punching, and kicking any gnoll they could reach in the pit. The gnolls howled in blind terror while the zombies made no noise at all other than the snapping of bone and tearing of flesh as they bit and clawed.

Panic spread inside the pit. The gnolls at the front and sides tried to push backward away from the spikes, while the gnolls outside the wall kept pushing in from behind. It was utter chaos.

Now!

Malfus commanded the two dozen human zombies by the edge of the pit into action. The zombies made a horrible wailing sound. A mindless rage filled roar. Primitive sounds, the sounds of monsters no longer human. A dozen zombies with spears and polearms stabbed down into the fray of pressed bodies below, as the ones without weapons leapt in, right on top of the gnolls.

Some of the gnolls tried to escape the pit by climbing over the spikes, but the nails driven into them made it hard for them to grab hold. The few that managed to make it up were greeted by the human-zombies with spears or other makeshift weapons and pushed back in.

As the zombies attacked the gnolls below, the soldiers above crowded around the edges of the wall, aiming their crossbows down and shooting into the crowd of gnolls, each bolt finding a target. The soldiers would fall back to reload their crossbows as another would come and take their place along the edge, fire, then fall back to reload as well. A mechanically efficient cycle of death.

As the gnolls below him were slaughtered, with each new death, Malfus could experience a tiny pulse of power as negative energy was released from the living, as their soul fled their body. Malfus could feel the invisible waves as they passed over him like the static pressure before a thunderstorm.

Malfus noticed that the rod was enjoying it as well. He saw the star shape inside glowing, lights inside were moving and coalescing, pulsing in time with each death. The bright spots inside the gem seemed to move in the direction each pulse came from, like an eye inside the ruby was following each detail of the battle with avid excitement.

Well, well, well… Look who is awake again.

Malfus became aware of some of the gnolls in the back ranks, finally overcoming their confusion and trying to fight back. A group managed to beat one of the flaming zombie-gnolls down to the ground and stabbed at it. They were so focused on stabbing the still-moving zombie that they didn’t notice the three unlit zombies coming up from behind them silently in the dark.

Elsewhere, another gnoll tried to fight off one of the zombies by itself, and then looked on in horror as its sword got stuck in the zombie’s skull. The gnoll tried to pull it free as the zombie kept coming forward, but the zombie grabbed its mouth with both hands and started ripping and ripping until the gnoll’s jaw was wrenched from its face with a bone-snapping, marrow-ripping crunch.

Somewhere else, another zombie-gnoll stabbed both of its hands into the guts of a gnoll like a shovel, then dug out fistfuls of steaming entrails. Digging and digging.

Everywhere Malfus could hear the sounds of clashing steel, ripping flesh, shouts of orders, barks and howls being cut off in yelps of pain. But never silence.

Malfus was nauseated by some of the grisly things he saw through the eyes of the zombies, but somehow it seemed more distant and less real when it was through their perspective. Even though he knew it was happening right below him. Even though the images still remained behind his closed eyes.

Trying to control, and be aware of all these zombies, being constantly fed with information from them, he felt stretched out like he was all the pieces on a kefetta-board at once, a strategy game that was popular amongst the apprentices back at the academy after class hours. More like I’m trying to play three different games at once.

At least the mental challenge of trying to do that was keeping him too distracted to think about how afraid he should have been. Combat is perhaps not such a dreadful endeavor. At least while I get to be up here, while the fighting is all down there.

Malfus started walking along the wall, surveying the carnage below him. He still felt scared, but at least he felt like he somewhat looked the part in the borrowed officer’s jacket walking along the battlements. Maybe there could be battle-magi that aren’t just invokers, maybe there is some room for a necromancer or two in one of those books.

Before Malfus could start to imagine the dashing illustration of him on one of those pages, he looked over and saw Commander Peshka huffing and puffing as he climbed up the nearby ladder.

“Oh, there you are.” Malfus said, as Peshka struggled to pull himself up on the wall.

“Yes, I…” Peshka panted with his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Just look Commander! Isn’t it wonderful?” Malfus spread his arms wide over the battlements. “Undead gnolls, undead humans, alive humans… all united under one common goal. Making more gnolls dead so I can make more undead gnolls.”

“Uh, yes.. er what? Huh? No, listen.” Peshka tried to catch his breath. “The bloody Inquisitor…”

Malfus’s ears perked up. “What? What about him?”

“He’s escaped.” Peshka wheezed.

An iron spike of fear hammered into Malfus’s heart.

“He could be anywhere.” Peshka hissed, but the words didn’t even register to Malfus. His ears were ringing, his head was spinning, and his heart pounded in his throat. Even the sounds of the battle drew back to a muted roar. Right as he thought he had been able to reign in and manage his fear from the gnolls, of course something like this had to happen.

“Are you alright?” Peshka asked.

“Yes! Of course! Everything is just bloody phenomenal. Now, if there isn’t anything else, I have an army of undead to get back to managing.” Malfus turned away.

“Just watch yourself.” Peshka shouted, then he turned and disappeared within the ranks of soldiers on the wall, shouting and bellowing commands.