Hadley's Revenge
Posted: 2009-06-23 12:04pm
I blame sleep deprivation for this. I also expect complaining, but oh well.
---
The fortress brooded at the edge of a cliff, more a pile of haunted rocks than a structure now. Lightless loopholes sat sunken into the walls, the dead eye sockets of a half rotted skull, only in this case the corruption extruded flesh rather than stripped it away. A den of demons now dwelled within the confines of the once mighty fortress. A den Lord Hadley intended to destroy with great relish and thoroughness.
A pox upon the land these creatures were, a plague upon all Christendom. Some said they were unleashed by the Moslems in alliance with the Devil in retaliation for the Crusades. Others said that they had been carried in the hearts of the Mongols as they thundered out from the Far East and that when a member of the Horde was cut down a demon would spring from his chest. None however could say anything for certain as to their origins.
Hadley cared not for their origins but for their ends, a matter he had well versed himself in over the past ten years. While neither the first nor the only demon hunter, he was by far the best and the oldest in the profession. He had written many of the treatises on the extermination of these monstrosities, whether hunting a lone individual or obliterating a nest as he would today. He had a letter from the Pope to take any and all actions he saw fit in the pursuit of the obliteration of these monsters.
The only thing Hadley had not was his fill of revenge.
As it was under such circumstances he would often run his hand over his chest, although the presence of gauntlets and a breastplate meant that only phantom sensations of the scars that lurked there served as a reminder of how blessed he was to have earned his knowledge. That first year, when his passions had run hot like a bonfire, had very nearly ended with him dead like many a would-be demon hunter. Now his anger had cooled to red coals beneath a layer of ash, fierce but hidden.
Rapping his knuckles near soundlessly against his armour, he looked out over his forces and considered how he many called him the most fearsome general in the world. He knew many of the nobles and royalty of Europe feared him for his skill at arms, but they feared his prey more. Of course, considering the various professionals he had gathered, he would have feared him too.
Sitting astride his horse, he watched with some degree of pride as his men quickly assembled their defensive field works with well oiled precision. This was what they drilled and trained for when not on the hunt, activities that the veterans of such battles took to with enthusiasm. When facing demons speed of response was everything and the capacity to perform an action blind was often the difference between life and death.
The front ranks were lines of crossbowmen, many of them gathered from the famed Genoese mercenaries, supported by pike men, many of them from the Swiss cantons. These men were the shield to the true power of Hadley’s army, the ranks of archers brought over from Hadley’s own domains in England. It was near suicide to engage the demons at close range, but showers of arrows could bring the monsters down. The flanks were protected by squads of knights whose job was inglorious but necessary of staying out of the way and protecting the sides of the army from attack. They rarely saw battle, but then again most were glad of that.
More importantly for these sorts of attack were the siege engines, perhaps the greatest reason the kings of Europe feared Hadley so much. No finer crews existed in all of Christendom, probably in the entire world, for they had years of experience against dozens of castles and Hadley made sure that their weapons kept up with the fast pace of his army. This was because once the demons established a nest only a lightning assault with siege weapons could force them out.
In the distance he could already hear the echoing hiss of the demons in their lair as they took notice of the army setting up for an attack. Perhaps the only mercy God had seen fit in the creation of these monsters was that while possessed of devilish cunning they lacked the true intelligence of a man and rarely attacked under such conditions.
Still, the sun had already reached its zenith for the day and the sunlight would melt away all too soon, giving the demons the cover of darkness that they so loved. If the attack did not end before dusk then the blood of Hadley’s men would flow freely. The scars of that lesson were still there and after that first, bloody year Hadley had only experienced the terror of a night fight with the demons three more times. He had also had to rebuild his army nearly three times since then.
Finally though the sergeants that tended to the siege engines reported ready. With a nod, Hadley directed his herald to signal the attack. Trumpeting loudly, the sound carried across the broken fields and was soon replaced by the creaking roar of straining wood and rope as the trebuchets and catapults hurled their loads into the air. Sailing across the sky the enormous clay jugs crashed against the empty battlements of the castle and shattered, spilling enormous quantities of oil and pitch across the fortress. The oil was one of the greatest expenses Hadley’s army faced, and they were always greedy for more, but their services were in great enough demand that they could afford it.
As the great siege engines began to reset for the next barrage the demons began to boil out of the fortress in response to the insult upon their lair. Nearly invisible against the shadows of the interior of the castle, they were like twisted parodies of men. Black as night and glossy like horrid scarabs from heathen Egypt, their bodies were skeletal and oddly jointed, with strange protuberances off their back and a tail segmented like a human spine that ended in a blade like glaive.
Perhaps worst of all were their heads, grotesquely elongated with an eyeless yet almost man-like face about horrific jaws lined with peg-like teeth that Hadley knew from experience could crush a great helm. Combined with the claws on their hands and feet and their awful tails no sane man would willingly engage such creatures in close combat.
So Hadley did not.
The attack was held until several of the beasts had ventured out of their concealing shadows and into the light of day where their dark colouration made them perfect targets. With a wave of his hand Hadley signalled his herald and a short trumpet call later and the air broke with the twang of bows and the rustle of arrows. A deadly rain fell upon the demons, skewering perhaps a dozen of them on the ground and knocking two or three more off the walls they clambered upon like spiders.
A grim smile crossed over Hadley’s face. The dying screams of the beasts brought warmth to his heart as they thrashed about in pain. While tough, they were not invincible and they bled and died just like any other creature when struck, except that their blood burned like fire without flames when spilt. That alone was reason enough to strike at them from a distance.
A few of the crossbowmen launched their own missiles to finish off anything not killed outright, while the archers knocked their bows in preparation but did not draw them. Now highly agitated, the demons also retreated back to their nest, wary of the human army. Perhaps they intended to wait for night to attack.
The siege weapons thundered again, hurling more oil and pitch at the castle. With the first volley having had time to drip down and soak in, Hadley felt it time. Imperiously he waved and the ballista crews ignited their rounds. A trio of twangs rang out and the flaming spears flew across the sky like thunderbolts hurled by the Almighty. One struck a bare patch of stone and bounced off harmlessly. One flew over the battlements and into the courtyard. And one flew true into a loophole that had oil running about it and almost immediately caused the mixture there to ignite.
It took perhaps a minute or two for the flames to truly get going, but soon a plume of thick black smoke rose from the fortress and flames could be seen licking from the interior. The high pitched, panicked screams of the demons within brought joy to Hadley but fear to the men, so the priests immediately began to chant prays loudly to bolster their spirits and drown out the awful sounds somewhat. A clever tactic that, one he wished he had thought of sooner.
With a third and final barrage of pots from the siege weapons adding yet more fuel to the now rapidly growing fire, the demons finally broke from their now doomed lair, boiling out of loopholes and gates by the score as they rushed from the burning structure towards their tormentors.
Finally deigning to speak, Hadley shouted out, “Release at will!”
The crossbowmen held their weapons ready but the archers began to rain their arrows down upon the demons, cutting them down as they charged towards the army in the afternoon sun across open terrain. Still, hunched down on all fours, the monsters were terrifyingly fast and resilient and more than one began to close the distance.
Then the harsher twang of the crossbows entered the field as the Genoese began to carefully place their shots with their powerful weapons. With each archer backed up by a pair of adjutants who loaded weapons, they could put up a fearsome rate of fire with their slow loading heavy weapons. Designed to puncture plate, the once banned weapons carried full Papal support against the demons.
Yet still the demons closed the distance! Hundreds had erupted from the confines of the dead castle, and scores were slaughtered in the fields, yet still they advanced, howling their damned cries of battle. Perhaps a dozen might make it to the lines, but each one could kill a score of men in a berserk rampage. Already the crossbowmen were retreating as they were trained to do while the pikemen set to meet the charge. Only a forest of stakes could prove truly effective against such creatures.
With a horrific crash the first of the monsters struck the line and was impaled upon the pikes and caught upon the lugs of the spears. Its hellish blood sizzled and burned even as it thrashed against the dozens of points piercing its body, and it ripped more than one weapon out of a man’s arms, but it quickly lost strength as its entrails spilled out upon the ground to poison and destroy the earth with its death.
Another two, seeing the folly of their brother in rushing up low, leapt into the air during the final stage of their charge. With expert timing the men shifted their weapons up, presenting dozens of points for each of the demons to land on. The force of the impact shattered more than one pike, and foul blood rained down upon the men to wound and maim, but both creatures were surely doomed by the attack.
One however managed to struggle and snap enough spears such that it landed upon the men holding it, its tail whipping out and decapitating a man while its claws and teeth began to rip open and disembowel another two. The blood of man and demon sprayed everywhere in the death struggle, and a hole began to open in that section of the pike formation, one that other survivors from the demon charge began to move towards.
Spurring their horses, the select groups of Hadley’s knights moved towards the weak point opening up. Riding in loose, almost individual formation, they set their lances and charged at the demons. A hellish task, only the most veteran of knights took the job of such attacks. Lances crashed into elongated skulls and ghoulish torsos and ripped them open, spraying that nightmarish blood across the battlefield. Some men rode past unharmed, while others were splashed with the horrid stuff, or rather more often their horses were struck.
Hadley could only watch as Sir Kane was hauled from his mount and horrifically mauled, his armour ripped open by the beast he had been trying to slay. Before the creature could finish though a merciful volley of arrows pinned it to the ground and finished off the unlucky knight.
Then Hadley had larger problems to worry about as the gates of the castle, still closed, were smashed open by a terrible force. Smoke and embers billowing out of the burning castle, the queen of the brood stepped out. A giant greater than any creature that walk upon God’s earth, she was the mother of all the hundreds of demons that lay slaughtered on the ground. Rearing up, she roared her fury as she charged out into the field.
Snatching up his spear from one of his groomsmen, Hadley spurred his mount into action. The queens of the brood were by far the most dangerous members, their thick hides capable of repelling arrows and bolts at anything but the closest ranges. The ballistae had been kept in reserve for just such an event, but only a few men had the equipment to deal with her.
Hadley and his lieutenants were those men.
Clad in armour made from the finest steel and subsequently lacquered and glazed, each man could only join Hadley’s special unit by slaying a demon personally and claiming its hide. Immune to their own bodies, the demons’ hard skins could be integrated into a knight’s armour and provide great protection against the adverse effects of their blood. Man and horse alike were equipped with armour, and yet few believed they would return from any individual charge.
Couching his spear as he charged, Hadley aligned the point, taken from the tail of another queen slain two years ago, with the breast of the monstrosity before him. A pair of smaller limbs wiggled and twitched there like some insect. His men were either armed with similar spears and lances or had arbalests to hurl bolts at the demon queen. Already the heavy bolts were punching into the draconic beast and drawing blood, but more was needed.
The queen abruptly changed direction and pounced upon Sir John, badly hurting him as he was thrown from his horse, which had its head ripped off by the massive jaws of the demon. His aim now terribly off, Hadley only managed to strike it in the massive crest of black bone that crowned its head, slicing off a large chunk but doing little else. Squealing in pain, the queen demon whipped its blade tail at Hadley and succeeded in taking a leg off his horse.
Tumbling to the ground at a full gallop, Hadley rolled with the impact as he had been trained to do since early childhood and immediately sprang to his feet. His horse, screaming and thrashing about on the ground as it sprayed arterial blood from the stump of its leg, offered him some temporary distance from the demon attempting to protect its queen. Just time enough for Hadley to draw his weapon.
It pounced, flying at him with its jaws wide and its claws forward. Hadley met its attack with his mace held in a two handed grip and swung with all of his considerable might towards its head. With a sick crack the skull of the demon was caved in, killing it instantly even as its body continued forward and bowled Hadley over. Pinned beneath its body for a moment, Hadley managed to kick it off and get to his feet once more.
Running over to where his spear lay, Hadley snatched it up with one hand while the other put his mace back on his belt loop. Seizing with both hands, he then began a full charge at the demon queen as she was distracted by his men pelting her with shots from their remaining loaded arbalests.
At the last moment she took notice of his clattering armour as he ran at her and turned to face him, only to take his spear to the face along the snout. Biting deeply, Hadley almost immediately relinquished hold of the weapon as the demon thrashed her head in pain, her immense strength guaranteed to tear it from his grip if he did not relinquish it. Hadley then dove to the ground to avoid the retaliatory slash from the wicked tail.
With a loud, meaty impact, a ballista bolt slammed into the queen’s chest as she reared up from the pain along her snout. Staggered, she took a step back even as the spear sized projectile burned up and left a gaping hole in her breast between the two smaller arms. Some major blood vessel close to the wicked heart of the demon was pierced as blood began to spurt out, burning the ground at her feet.
Sir Gorman then slammed his lance into the queen’s side, the weight of he, his horse, his armour, and his horse’s armour at a full gallop focused into a tiny point. While he lost the lance, it punched deep into the demon’s side. Surrounded on all sides with arrows and bolts from the main lines pattering across her armoured body seeking weak points, the queen roared her pain and frustration even as Hadley charged once more, this time with his mace.
His first swing broke one of the large, clawed hands, shattering it at the wrist. His second swing knocked out teeth as she lunged for him. Gorman gave him a third swing by swiping at the queen with his own mace from horseback. With that pass Gorman broke her tail at the midpoint and Hadley shattered her jaw. It was like striking stone she was so tough, but even stone yielded before a hammer.
Her screams now almost pathetic, the queen attempted to retreat but now more and more knights were joining in on the attack, even those from outside Hadley’s special unit. Lances pierced her and maces pummelled her. Swipes and kicks knocked men from horses and shattered armour, but the tide of battle was against her as she was swarmed and beaten to a pulp.
His armour starting to sizzle as her blood seeped towards the interior, Hadley called out for the squires to begin dousing the knights in vinegar and holy water to wash away the unholy substance. No one really knew why vinegar worked, just that it did and it was unwise to question the knowledge imparted by God through serendipity.
Already the mop up was beginning. The castle would be burned to the ground and then burned some more. The dead demons would be repeatedly stabbed to ensure death and drain them of their blood and then burned. Their own dead and wounded would be quarantined for a few days in case they carried the spirits of the demons in their own hearts. The only body that would not immediately face the pyre would be the queen.
No, the queen would be drained and washed with vinegar and holy water and allowed to rest for three days before her head would be removed and added to Lord Hadley’s collection. The image of the demon queen’s head had been added to his personal heraldry by order of the Pope years ago, and his tent contained the largest collection of demon skulls in Europe. He had dozens of skulls from lesser demons and a score of queen’s skulls, although only two others had been acquired in personal combat, the rest had been recovered from burnt out nests.
It wasn’t enough. Thousands of the demons still plagued Christendom, and Hadley refused to accept it as a sign of the apocalypse to meekly accept. Hadley and his men wouldn’t stop until they died or the demons had been eradicated. Nothing else was acceptable.
As he left the battlefield though, he paused, feeling a faint prickling of fear across the back of his neck. Something was watching him. He scanned the burning wreckage of the battlefield but saw nothing. That meant nothing to him though. He knew that sometimes when the summer was hot the Devil stalked these battlefields, invisible as a ghost yet still there. Sometimes his men would be found skinned and gutted like animals.
Hadley would have them retreat across a nearby river and post a double watch tonight. The Devil did not seem to like crossing rivers for some reason. Perhaps the purity of the water repelled it.
Whatever the reason, Hadley knew that the Devil only tended to attack lone groups of men in the dark or forest, not that he ever let that make him complacent. No, the war against the demons slew the complacent quite quickly, and only in similar vigilance could their master be kept at bay. Still, if the Devil himself had to come to put a stop to Hadley’s campaigns then he could meet death with a smile on his face.
Hadley turned and walked away, oblivious to the three red dots of light lazily considering his torso.
---
The fortress brooded at the edge of a cliff, more a pile of haunted rocks than a structure now. Lightless loopholes sat sunken into the walls, the dead eye sockets of a half rotted skull, only in this case the corruption extruded flesh rather than stripped it away. A den of demons now dwelled within the confines of the once mighty fortress. A den Lord Hadley intended to destroy with great relish and thoroughness.
A pox upon the land these creatures were, a plague upon all Christendom. Some said they were unleashed by the Moslems in alliance with the Devil in retaliation for the Crusades. Others said that they had been carried in the hearts of the Mongols as they thundered out from the Far East and that when a member of the Horde was cut down a demon would spring from his chest. None however could say anything for certain as to their origins.
Hadley cared not for their origins but for their ends, a matter he had well versed himself in over the past ten years. While neither the first nor the only demon hunter, he was by far the best and the oldest in the profession. He had written many of the treatises on the extermination of these monstrosities, whether hunting a lone individual or obliterating a nest as he would today. He had a letter from the Pope to take any and all actions he saw fit in the pursuit of the obliteration of these monsters.
The only thing Hadley had not was his fill of revenge.
As it was under such circumstances he would often run his hand over his chest, although the presence of gauntlets and a breastplate meant that only phantom sensations of the scars that lurked there served as a reminder of how blessed he was to have earned his knowledge. That first year, when his passions had run hot like a bonfire, had very nearly ended with him dead like many a would-be demon hunter. Now his anger had cooled to red coals beneath a layer of ash, fierce but hidden.
Rapping his knuckles near soundlessly against his armour, he looked out over his forces and considered how he many called him the most fearsome general in the world. He knew many of the nobles and royalty of Europe feared him for his skill at arms, but they feared his prey more. Of course, considering the various professionals he had gathered, he would have feared him too.
Sitting astride his horse, he watched with some degree of pride as his men quickly assembled their defensive field works with well oiled precision. This was what they drilled and trained for when not on the hunt, activities that the veterans of such battles took to with enthusiasm. When facing demons speed of response was everything and the capacity to perform an action blind was often the difference between life and death.
The front ranks were lines of crossbowmen, many of them gathered from the famed Genoese mercenaries, supported by pike men, many of them from the Swiss cantons. These men were the shield to the true power of Hadley’s army, the ranks of archers brought over from Hadley’s own domains in England. It was near suicide to engage the demons at close range, but showers of arrows could bring the monsters down. The flanks were protected by squads of knights whose job was inglorious but necessary of staying out of the way and protecting the sides of the army from attack. They rarely saw battle, but then again most were glad of that.
More importantly for these sorts of attack were the siege engines, perhaps the greatest reason the kings of Europe feared Hadley so much. No finer crews existed in all of Christendom, probably in the entire world, for they had years of experience against dozens of castles and Hadley made sure that their weapons kept up with the fast pace of his army. This was because once the demons established a nest only a lightning assault with siege weapons could force them out.
In the distance he could already hear the echoing hiss of the demons in their lair as they took notice of the army setting up for an attack. Perhaps the only mercy God had seen fit in the creation of these monsters was that while possessed of devilish cunning they lacked the true intelligence of a man and rarely attacked under such conditions.
Still, the sun had already reached its zenith for the day and the sunlight would melt away all too soon, giving the demons the cover of darkness that they so loved. If the attack did not end before dusk then the blood of Hadley’s men would flow freely. The scars of that lesson were still there and after that first, bloody year Hadley had only experienced the terror of a night fight with the demons three more times. He had also had to rebuild his army nearly three times since then.
Finally though the sergeants that tended to the siege engines reported ready. With a nod, Hadley directed his herald to signal the attack. Trumpeting loudly, the sound carried across the broken fields and was soon replaced by the creaking roar of straining wood and rope as the trebuchets and catapults hurled their loads into the air. Sailing across the sky the enormous clay jugs crashed against the empty battlements of the castle and shattered, spilling enormous quantities of oil and pitch across the fortress. The oil was one of the greatest expenses Hadley’s army faced, and they were always greedy for more, but their services were in great enough demand that they could afford it.
As the great siege engines began to reset for the next barrage the demons began to boil out of the fortress in response to the insult upon their lair. Nearly invisible against the shadows of the interior of the castle, they were like twisted parodies of men. Black as night and glossy like horrid scarabs from heathen Egypt, their bodies were skeletal and oddly jointed, with strange protuberances off their back and a tail segmented like a human spine that ended in a blade like glaive.
Perhaps worst of all were their heads, grotesquely elongated with an eyeless yet almost man-like face about horrific jaws lined with peg-like teeth that Hadley knew from experience could crush a great helm. Combined with the claws on their hands and feet and their awful tails no sane man would willingly engage such creatures in close combat.
So Hadley did not.
The attack was held until several of the beasts had ventured out of their concealing shadows and into the light of day where their dark colouration made them perfect targets. With a wave of his hand Hadley signalled his herald and a short trumpet call later and the air broke with the twang of bows and the rustle of arrows. A deadly rain fell upon the demons, skewering perhaps a dozen of them on the ground and knocking two or three more off the walls they clambered upon like spiders.
A grim smile crossed over Hadley’s face. The dying screams of the beasts brought warmth to his heart as they thrashed about in pain. While tough, they were not invincible and they bled and died just like any other creature when struck, except that their blood burned like fire without flames when spilt. That alone was reason enough to strike at them from a distance.
A few of the crossbowmen launched their own missiles to finish off anything not killed outright, while the archers knocked their bows in preparation but did not draw them. Now highly agitated, the demons also retreated back to their nest, wary of the human army. Perhaps they intended to wait for night to attack.
The siege weapons thundered again, hurling more oil and pitch at the castle. With the first volley having had time to drip down and soak in, Hadley felt it time. Imperiously he waved and the ballista crews ignited their rounds. A trio of twangs rang out and the flaming spears flew across the sky like thunderbolts hurled by the Almighty. One struck a bare patch of stone and bounced off harmlessly. One flew over the battlements and into the courtyard. And one flew true into a loophole that had oil running about it and almost immediately caused the mixture there to ignite.
It took perhaps a minute or two for the flames to truly get going, but soon a plume of thick black smoke rose from the fortress and flames could be seen licking from the interior. The high pitched, panicked screams of the demons within brought joy to Hadley but fear to the men, so the priests immediately began to chant prays loudly to bolster their spirits and drown out the awful sounds somewhat. A clever tactic that, one he wished he had thought of sooner.
With a third and final barrage of pots from the siege weapons adding yet more fuel to the now rapidly growing fire, the demons finally broke from their now doomed lair, boiling out of loopholes and gates by the score as they rushed from the burning structure towards their tormentors.
Finally deigning to speak, Hadley shouted out, “Release at will!”
The crossbowmen held their weapons ready but the archers began to rain their arrows down upon the demons, cutting them down as they charged towards the army in the afternoon sun across open terrain. Still, hunched down on all fours, the monsters were terrifyingly fast and resilient and more than one began to close the distance.
Then the harsher twang of the crossbows entered the field as the Genoese began to carefully place their shots with their powerful weapons. With each archer backed up by a pair of adjutants who loaded weapons, they could put up a fearsome rate of fire with their slow loading heavy weapons. Designed to puncture plate, the once banned weapons carried full Papal support against the demons.
Yet still the demons closed the distance! Hundreds had erupted from the confines of the dead castle, and scores were slaughtered in the fields, yet still they advanced, howling their damned cries of battle. Perhaps a dozen might make it to the lines, but each one could kill a score of men in a berserk rampage. Already the crossbowmen were retreating as they were trained to do while the pikemen set to meet the charge. Only a forest of stakes could prove truly effective against such creatures.
With a horrific crash the first of the monsters struck the line and was impaled upon the pikes and caught upon the lugs of the spears. Its hellish blood sizzled and burned even as it thrashed against the dozens of points piercing its body, and it ripped more than one weapon out of a man’s arms, but it quickly lost strength as its entrails spilled out upon the ground to poison and destroy the earth with its death.
Another two, seeing the folly of their brother in rushing up low, leapt into the air during the final stage of their charge. With expert timing the men shifted their weapons up, presenting dozens of points for each of the demons to land on. The force of the impact shattered more than one pike, and foul blood rained down upon the men to wound and maim, but both creatures were surely doomed by the attack.
One however managed to struggle and snap enough spears such that it landed upon the men holding it, its tail whipping out and decapitating a man while its claws and teeth began to rip open and disembowel another two. The blood of man and demon sprayed everywhere in the death struggle, and a hole began to open in that section of the pike formation, one that other survivors from the demon charge began to move towards.
Spurring their horses, the select groups of Hadley’s knights moved towards the weak point opening up. Riding in loose, almost individual formation, they set their lances and charged at the demons. A hellish task, only the most veteran of knights took the job of such attacks. Lances crashed into elongated skulls and ghoulish torsos and ripped them open, spraying that nightmarish blood across the battlefield. Some men rode past unharmed, while others were splashed with the horrid stuff, or rather more often their horses were struck.
Hadley could only watch as Sir Kane was hauled from his mount and horrifically mauled, his armour ripped open by the beast he had been trying to slay. Before the creature could finish though a merciful volley of arrows pinned it to the ground and finished off the unlucky knight.
Then Hadley had larger problems to worry about as the gates of the castle, still closed, were smashed open by a terrible force. Smoke and embers billowing out of the burning castle, the queen of the brood stepped out. A giant greater than any creature that walk upon God’s earth, she was the mother of all the hundreds of demons that lay slaughtered on the ground. Rearing up, she roared her fury as she charged out into the field.
Snatching up his spear from one of his groomsmen, Hadley spurred his mount into action. The queens of the brood were by far the most dangerous members, their thick hides capable of repelling arrows and bolts at anything but the closest ranges. The ballistae had been kept in reserve for just such an event, but only a few men had the equipment to deal with her.
Hadley and his lieutenants were those men.
Clad in armour made from the finest steel and subsequently lacquered and glazed, each man could only join Hadley’s special unit by slaying a demon personally and claiming its hide. Immune to their own bodies, the demons’ hard skins could be integrated into a knight’s armour and provide great protection against the adverse effects of their blood. Man and horse alike were equipped with armour, and yet few believed they would return from any individual charge.
Couching his spear as he charged, Hadley aligned the point, taken from the tail of another queen slain two years ago, with the breast of the monstrosity before him. A pair of smaller limbs wiggled and twitched there like some insect. His men were either armed with similar spears and lances or had arbalests to hurl bolts at the demon queen. Already the heavy bolts were punching into the draconic beast and drawing blood, but more was needed.
The queen abruptly changed direction and pounced upon Sir John, badly hurting him as he was thrown from his horse, which had its head ripped off by the massive jaws of the demon. His aim now terribly off, Hadley only managed to strike it in the massive crest of black bone that crowned its head, slicing off a large chunk but doing little else. Squealing in pain, the queen demon whipped its blade tail at Hadley and succeeded in taking a leg off his horse.
Tumbling to the ground at a full gallop, Hadley rolled with the impact as he had been trained to do since early childhood and immediately sprang to his feet. His horse, screaming and thrashing about on the ground as it sprayed arterial blood from the stump of its leg, offered him some temporary distance from the demon attempting to protect its queen. Just time enough for Hadley to draw his weapon.
It pounced, flying at him with its jaws wide and its claws forward. Hadley met its attack with his mace held in a two handed grip and swung with all of his considerable might towards its head. With a sick crack the skull of the demon was caved in, killing it instantly even as its body continued forward and bowled Hadley over. Pinned beneath its body for a moment, Hadley managed to kick it off and get to his feet once more.
Running over to where his spear lay, Hadley snatched it up with one hand while the other put his mace back on his belt loop. Seizing with both hands, he then began a full charge at the demon queen as she was distracted by his men pelting her with shots from their remaining loaded arbalests.
At the last moment she took notice of his clattering armour as he ran at her and turned to face him, only to take his spear to the face along the snout. Biting deeply, Hadley almost immediately relinquished hold of the weapon as the demon thrashed her head in pain, her immense strength guaranteed to tear it from his grip if he did not relinquish it. Hadley then dove to the ground to avoid the retaliatory slash from the wicked tail.
With a loud, meaty impact, a ballista bolt slammed into the queen’s chest as she reared up from the pain along her snout. Staggered, she took a step back even as the spear sized projectile burned up and left a gaping hole in her breast between the two smaller arms. Some major blood vessel close to the wicked heart of the demon was pierced as blood began to spurt out, burning the ground at her feet.
Sir Gorman then slammed his lance into the queen’s side, the weight of he, his horse, his armour, and his horse’s armour at a full gallop focused into a tiny point. While he lost the lance, it punched deep into the demon’s side. Surrounded on all sides with arrows and bolts from the main lines pattering across her armoured body seeking weak points, the queen roared her pain and frustration even as Hadley charged once more, this time with his mace.
His first swing broke one of the large, clawed hands, shattering it at the wrist. His second swing knocked out teeth as she lunged for him. Gorman gave him a third swing by swiping at the queen with his own mace from horseback. With that pass Gorman broke her tail at the midpoint and Hadley shattered her jaw. It was like striking stone she was so tough, but even stone yielded before a hammer.
Her screams now almost pathetic, the queen attempted to retreat but now more and more knights were joining in on the attack, even those from outside Hadley’s special unit. Lances pierced her and maces pummelled her. Swipes and kicks knocked men from horses and shattered armour, but the tide of battle was against her as she was swarmed and beaten to a pulp.
His armour starting to sizzle as her blood seeped towards the interior, Hadley called out for the squires to begin dousing the knights in vinegar and holy water to wash away the unholy substance. No one really knew why vinegar worked, just that it did and it was unwise to question the knowledge imparted by God through serendipity.
Already the mop up was beginning. The castle would be burned to the ground and then burned some more. The dead demons would be repeatedly stabbed to ensure death and drain them of their blood and then burned. Their own dead and wounded would be quarantined for a few days in case they carried the spirits of the demons in their own hearts. The only body that would not immediately face the pyre would be the queen.
No, the queen would be drained and washed with vinegar and holy water and allowed to rest for three days before her head would be removed and added to Lord Hadley’s collection. The image of the demon queen’s head had been added to his personal heraldry by order of the Pope years ago, and his tent contained the largest collection of demon skulls in Europe. He had dozens of skulls from lesser demons and a score of queen’s skulls, although only two others had been acquired in personal combat, the rest had been recovered from burnt out nests.
It wasn’t enough. Thousands of the demons still plagued Christendom, and Hadley refused to accept it as a sign of the apocalypse to meekly accept. Hadley and his men wouldn’t stop until they died or the demons had been eradicated. Nothing else was acceptable.
As he left the battlefield though, he paused, feeling a faint prickling of fear across the back of his neck. Something was watching him. He scanned the burning wreckage of the battlefield but saw nothing. That meant nothing to him though. He knew that sometimes when the summer was hot the Devil stalked these battlefields, invisible as a ghost yet still there. Sometimes his men would be found skinned and gutted like animals.
Hadley would have them retreat across a nearby river and post a double watch tonight. The Devil did not seem to like crossing rivers for some reason. Perhaps the purity of the water repelled it.
Whatever the reason, Hadley knew that the Devil only tended to attack lone groups of men in the dark or forest, not that he ever let that make him complacent. No, the war against the demons slew the complacent quite quickly, and only in similar vigilance could their master be kept at bay. Still, if the Devil himself had to come to put a stop to Hadley’s campaigns then he could meet death with a smile on his face.
Hadley turned and walked away, oblivious to the three red dots of light lazily considering his torso.
