Murder the Heroes

Chapter Four; Section Two

The battlefield was just visible through the treeline. Battle lines clashed as the Duke took on one of Aberfell's Krull-reinforced armies. It was a close, but the Duke was taking the worst of it. Esquire might be the better tactician, but that couldn't compensate for his magical shortfall. His mages were trying their best to counter the Krull's magical assaults, but they were failing. Massive spheres of ice exploded overhead, showering troops with deadly shrapnel. Icy cold vapours seeped from the ground, freezing men solid. Hail stones the size of fists rained down, denting armour; breaking bones. 

Coil studied it all through his spyglass, from his perch on the hill. He ignored the whispers at his mutilated hand upon the brass barrel. They'd cease soon enough, for even if the battle he'd got it at was infamous, it was still just a scar and rare was the trooper here who didn't have plenty of his own. He was right. Soon enough the soldiers went back to their own preparations.

A good thing too, for what was to come wasn't going to be easy. They were far up Aberfell's flank. Behind them lay the dead pickets of the enemy. Coil had watched from afar as the enemy lookouts had been taken care of, ready to step in if necessary. It hadn't been. These men knew what they were doing. It was the kind of thing they were trained for. They were hard men, these Mage Killers.

Every modern army had a Mage Killer division. They were specially trained and equipped to deal with the opponent's magical threat. They were shock troops — fast moving, elite soldiers who were equally skilled at hand-to-hand combat as cutting a man's throat. That was the only way you could come in close enough to have a shot at killing a mage. Surprise was your friend. That was how they'd dealt with the pickets.

Not that any Mage Killer attack had yet worked against the Krull. They had shock troops of their own, which were always close at hand to defend their masters. And the simple truth was that the Krull shock troops were better than the Duke's counterparts. The Duke's troops were living, breathing men and women, who ran on two feet and fought with sword and shield.

What the Krull brought to the battlefield was something else entirely, and so far every attempt at getting to the Krull had run up against them and been ground to dust. Some people argued that the Draugr were actually more dangerous than the Krull. To Coil that seemed an academic argument. All that mattered was that they were dangerous.

Fortunately, this wasn't the first time Coil had seen these things; he'd already learned a lot about them. Now they were to see if that would be enough to turn around this string of defeats. He certainly hoped so. There were a lot of people depending on him. In fact, the Shroud's whole war effort did.

Apparently he was now his side's answer to any and all magical obstacles. 

He studied the people around him. There were a few faces he recognised, a few faces that had been there at the Aberfell uprising. They'd got lucky. The attack had gone well. Many had got away. So, when they'd heard he was here, planning the next mission, they'd come from far and wide to stand by him again. Coil wasn't sure whether he felt more honoured or distraught.

Sheila was among them. She hadn't escaped the last battle unscathed. No longer was her beauty flawless. A blade to the face had left a puckered scar. At the same time, there was a fire in her eyes now. Her beauty had been transformed, but certainly not diminished. Men would fawn over her, Coil suspected — provided she didn't die today. That was his job.

The sniper was there too. He still carried his crossbow. Coil still didn't know his name, something that was even more embarrassing now — an embarrassment made all the more acute each time Coil caught the man gazing at him with something approaching reverence. He hadn't seen Gear, the frightened youth, though. Maybe he'd got away and decided this wasn't the life for him. Here was to hoping. Not everybody had got away, unscathed or otherwise.