The Ranger of Marzanna (The Goddess War #1) - Jon Skovron Page 0,161
them,” said Zaniolo. “It appears as soon as we strike down a regular Uaine warrior, they join the ranks of the undead army. We haven’t diminished their numbers in the slightest.”
They all glanced at Vittorio, but he was still cursing and fuming at Lorecchio and did not seem aware of or interested in anything else. The generals looked back at each other, faces grim and pale, but unsurprised. Had they expected the commander to falter just when his leadership was needed most? Was Commander Vittorio really just talk after all? And if so, how could they knowingly serve under such a man?
Marchisio’s voice was resolute. “We must engage regardless.”
Bonucci nodded. Then he lifted his voice and bellowed, “Charge!”
A roar of men’s voices rose up to match the screech of the undead. The archers let fly with a volley of arrows to cover the infantrymen as they charged forward, while the cavalry fanned out to the sides.
Again the arrows did little to slow the oncoming force, and only served to remind everyone how impervious the enemy was to pain and injury. The cavalry had better luck harrying their flanks. If a mounted soldier got close enough to lop off the head with his saber, the undead fell to the ground and did not rise again. But the horses continued to shy away from the unnatural creatures, and only the best horsemen could force their mounts to ride within striking distance more than once or twice.
Then the line of shield bearers crashed into the front of the undead army as the infantrymen closed the gap. The spear bearers thrust their points between the cracks, skewering the creatures easily. But the creatures only grasped the spears that protruded from their chests and pulled themselves closer. Soon a mass of undead were pressing down on the shields such that the bearers were in danger of collapse.
Bonucci yanked Sebastian toward him, panic starting to show on his face. “Surely there’s something you can do, Captain!”
Sebastian gripped his gem tightly and began to probe the insides of the creatures. He could feel no blood to boil, but there was plenty of river water absorbed in their skin. He found one creature that had nearly broken through the wall of shields. With a desperate will, he heated the creature’s waterlogged flesh. The creature stopped pressing forward and began to convulse, which gave the shield bearer a moment of relief. But the creature’s skin continued to swell until finally it burst, flinging gray flesh, now searingly hot, in all directions, scalding both the shield and spear bearers.
“Damn you! You’re just making things worse!” Bonucci shoved Sebastian roughly aside.
“General Bonucci, calm yourself!” Zaniolo’s voice was as cold and hard as winter steel. “We are officers of the imperial army and we do not give in to hysteria.”
Bonucci looked as though he were about to retort, but then glanced over at the still raving Vittorio and winced. He took a deep breath, then looked back at Zaniolo.
“You’re right, of course, General. What need have we of magic or trickery? As always, we will claim victory with our discipline and ingenuity.”
The generals began shouting down to their adjuncts below, giving them messages to relay to the captains on the field as they tried to find a formation that would work against their slow but implacable foe. Sebastian didn’t know what to do. He felt urgency all around him, and his heart twisted with empathy as he watched the brave soldiers of the imperial army fight desperately against their merciless and unfeeling foes. He longed to aid them, but feared that his attempts to help would once again make things worse.
“Sebastian!”
Commander Vittorio spun Sebastian around to face him. The commander’s face was bright red with rage, and his eyes bulged so that he truly did seem mad. He pointed at the distant Lorecchio.
“Kill that man immediately! Boil his blood so that it bursts from his eyes!”
“Y-yes, sir!” Sebastian had never tried such a thing from this distance, but perhaps if he could see the man a little more clearly. “Can I use the glass, sir?”
“Fine, fine!” The commander shoved the spyglass at Sebastian. “Just do it!”
When Sebastian trained his glass on the man they called Angelo Lorecchio, his heart nearly leapt out of his chest. For a split second, he could have sworn he was looking at his father. They were the same age, the same build, same hair, even the same stern, serious pinched gaze.