The Battle of Ebulon by Shane Porteous Read Free Book Online Page A

repel your
attack. However, there is no need for you to charge forward and
throw away your lives needlessly. From what I understand, Ebulon
has many gates, and some of them are guarded by singular heroes who
feel the greatest nobility can be found by perishing alone on a
battlefield in defense of the weak. Why not pass this gate by and
assist your brethren in the eradication of such fools? I'm fairly
sure you'll find less resistance there than here.”
Jenner snapped his head around to regard Malik with an incredulous
look at his semi-treasonous remarks. Malik chuckled as he noticed
the reaction was shared by nearly every figure all the way along
the line.
    “Relax,” Malik said with a
smirk, “it was worth a shot, but it's not going to
work.”
    In answer, the white Orc
lifted his arm and roared a beastly cry which incited all the
creatures beneath his command to charge forward in a frenzied
rush.
    Malik felt the small
contingent of archers he had put together tense, but he lifted his
arm to calm them.
    “Wait until the ladders
come, then send your arrows far out into the throng. We need a
barrier of bodies to inhibit their retreat when it starts raining
fire.”
    The archers
nodded.
    All too soon the ladders
came rising out of the darkness. Malik dropped his hand, unleashing
the barrage of arrows that provoked squeals of anguish and death as
they connected in the distance. The arrows continued to fly, volley
after volley, as the snarling faces came charging up their ladders
from below.
    Malik leaped onto the
wall, swinging his sword downward in a terrible arc that separated
the lead Orc's forearms from his body. Unbalanced, the heavy beast
tumbled backward, knocking several of its brethren from their perch
upon the ladder. The disruption caused the whole structure to fail,
and the ladder went skidding across the wall to dislodge the
adjacent scaling mechanism as well.
    Grabbing a torch, Malik
grabbed one of Ive's oil bottles, set it alight, and threw it with
tremendous force down into the surging masses. As the bottle broke
and sprayed oil everywhere, the flames spread with hungry abandon
eliciting more cries of pain along with the sound of sizzling
flesh.
    “Ummm, bacon,” Malik said
with a sadistic grin.
    Jenner, who somehow had
gotten his fine clothing sprayed by dark, brackish blood, stared up
at Malik in disbelief.
    Malik threw him another
wink as he tossed down two more flaming bottles. This time the
resultant liquid fire spread to one of the upright poles, which
Malik had also ordered soaked in oil. Flames erupted high into the
sky, and Orcs were pushed against the burning brand both by the
forces from behind eager for the taste of battle, and those at the
front who were trying to retreat and tend their terrible
wounds.
    More ladders thumped
against the wall, and Malik danced about, assisting the Guardsmen
in dislodging them. After less than an hour, all of the erected
beams were alight, and the smell of death and the sound of dying
filled the air.
    In a slight pause in the
fighting, Malik found himself alongside Regent Jenner. The proud
man was trembling from head to foot, and black goo had stained half
of his face.
    “Not a fighting man eh
Jenner?” Malik said, slapping the Regent on the back in
encouragement. “It appears you're making yourself
useful.”
    “It's horrible...” Jenner
could only stutter. “Horrible...”
    “Nonsense,” Malik replied,
“this isn't nearly as bad as I though it would be.”
    The words seemed to cut
through Jenner's near catatonic state, and he gazed at Malik in
utter disbelief.
    “I'm not saying we're
done,” Malik continued, “not by a long way. We're almost out of oil
and arrows, and I'm fairly sure there are enough Orcs left to bash
down the portcullis and get into the courtyard, but we've got a
sizable enough force to meet them there.”
    Malik paused to make a
downward swing at the face of an Orc that suddenly appeared on the
wall. The beast's face separated into