Quillblade by Ben Chandler Page A

Demons and winging avian Demons. Not all of them were black either, as the stories Lenis had heard always claimed. Some were an assortment of scabby browns, dirty tans and grey ash. Whatever their colour, their skin peeled in places to reveal raw flesh.
    Bestial cries of rage and despair flowed up to the top of the wall, leaving behind only a lingering sense of sadness that muted Lenis’s fear. The Demons’ communal sorrow rode onthe wave of miasma that rolled before them. Lenis could feel it, as surely as he could feel his own Bestia’s emotions, but there was something behind that sorrow, literally behind it, hidden in the Wasteland fog. The rumbling of the Demon charge set the walls of Gesshoku trembling, but behind it all was another rhythm, another beat. It was the steady tramp of feet, not a disorganised Demonic onrush, but a measured and militant marching. These emotions weren’t the simple, instinctual, unfocused passions Lenis sensed in the Demons. They were too complex, too individual, for Lenis to register anything concrete, but whatever was waiting behind the Demonic vanguard, hidden by the foulness of the Wastelands, was a terrible presence full of hunger, a dreadful anticipation and triumph. It was an aura stronger than any Lenis knew.
    â€˜Wait for them to come to us,’ Lenis heard Captain Shishi say.
    â€˜Such is not the way to glory!’ Yami cried as he leapt to the base of the wall. Everyone stared after him, but his drawn blade shone with a light so bright that Lenis had to shield his eyes.
    The captain swore and raised his own sword above his head. ‘We cannot allow him to fight alone! Go! ’ The last command was issued in Shinzôn, but Lenis didn’t need his sister to translate it for him. It was time to fight.
    But he could not.
    The villagers and most of his crewmates were already at the base of the wall. Those who had landed heavily took amoment to recover their balance and then chased after their more agile fellows. Fear, like something that could be caught by the wind, rushed up from both forces to surround Lenis. He reeled.
    â€˜Lenis, what is it?’ Missy’s grip on his arm was firm.
    â€˜What’s wrong with him?’ Namei’s voice was higher, more urgent.
    Tenjin knelt before him. ‘The spirit of the field has overwhelmed him.’ The old man’s face filled his vision and the insistent sense of fear and regret receded as he stared into the lines on Tenjin’s face.
    Behind his shoulder he saw Namei watching him closely. She looked concerned, but he could feel something very close to disdain in her. Did she think he couldn’t handle it? That he was going to faint?
    Lenis focused on Tenjin. ‘We have to stop them. They don’t know! They can’t feel it.’
    Missy pinched his arm. ‘Feel what?’
    â€˜Can’t you hear them?’
    â€˜Who?’
    â€˜The Demons.’ Lenis forced himself to stand. Over the top of the wall he could see the two forces moving closer to each other.
    Missy frowned. ‘What about them?’
    â€˜There’s something behi –’
    Lenis’s words were drowned out as the two forces collided. He looked over the top of the wall. Yami had reached thefront rank of the Demon army and had already penetrated deep into their midst, his flashing sword swinging in wide arcs. The Demons fell away, their blood darkening the grass beneath them. The other defenders of Gesshoku tried to keep up with him, but they seemed unable to match his ferocity.
    â€˜It’s too late.’ Lenis covered his face with his hands and tried to block out the maelstrom of emotions that rose up from the field. Somewhere behind the battle something much more dangerous was waiting, and he had to try and locate it.
    Just in time, he did.
    â€˜Look out!’
    Namei screamed as the Demon emerged from the miasma. ‘What is that? ’
    Tenjin stood to look over the parapet.