This felt good-killing them like this. Leaving them in pieces behind. Somehow, when the monsters were chopped up and sloppy on the cave floor, they seemed cleaner than when they breathed and scuttled and walked. That's how he thought of it-cleansing the caves.
Torches held high, Gerrard and his contingent rounded a corner.
Two monsters launched themselves from the darkness beyond. No longer did they fight in phalanxes. Now they fought like trapped dogs.
Gerrard's torch fell away. His sword rammed into the rushing chest of one. Steel lanced between obscene ribs. It sank deep, rupturing the heart. Oil sprayed around the edges of the blade.
Even dying, the thing fought on. Its knobby arms clamped down on him. Its claws pierced his sides.
Gerrard roared, prying his sword sideways. The blade snapped ribs and tore clear.
The beast slumped, leaning drunkenly on him before it tumbled sideways. Gerrard batted its arms away.
The fight was finished. Three Benalians had slain the other beast-at the cost of their own lives. Their corpses sprawled on one side of the cave.
Gerrard stared at the two Phyrexians. Their flesh was rotten, gray and shabby. Gritting his teeth, he hacked down with his sword. It clove the face of one dead monster. The blade rose. It fell again. He cut the thing's skull in half. The sword slashed down again. It opened the beast's face along the jaw. Gerrard lifted his sword for another strike.
A hand clamped on his shoulder-Tahngarth's hand. "Save your hate. We've plenty more ahead."
Gerrard severed the beast's neck and kicked the head across the chamber. "I have enough hate for all of them." He began working over the other body.
Tahngarth released his shoulder. As Gerrard chopped, he was vaguely aware of the soldiers around him, working to lay out their comrades as was fitting. Only when they had finished did Gerrard kick his way through the Phyrexian remains and lift his gaze.
"Let's go. The portal cannot be far now."
Multani managed to regrow enough of the damaged spar to allow Weatherlight a more graceful landing than her last. Still, the ship came to ground like a box of rocks.
It was little more than that just now. Two ray cannons had overheated and melted down. A third had been blasted away. The hull was riddled with ruptures that even Multani could not close completely. The engines ran red hot and barked gray smoke when Karn shut them down. He pulled his hands from the control sockets where they had been embedded and plunged the glowing things into a bucket of water. She would not fly again, not for hours, and would perhaps not fight for days.
Thankfully, she didn't need to. The ship had landed just beside the cave mouth-now in Dominarian hands. The Phyrexians above ground were routed, pursued in their thousands by tramping titans. The caves were filled with Dominarian defenders. All reports indicated decisive victories. Eladamri and his army descended to the portal.
Mantled in steam, Karn ascended from the engine room. He emerged, massive and brooding, onto the deck. Sisay arrived on deck at the same time, descending from the bridge.
The old friends spoke in accidental unison. "I'm going to help Gerrard."
Sisay smiled, fondly running her hand along Karn's massive jaw. "I'm glad to have you at my side."
Another figure rose from below. In the heat of the sick bay,
Orim had doffed her turban. Her coin-spangled hair dripped with perspiration. She mopped her brow with a rag and tucked it into her healer's cloak. A ready supply of powders, salves, and bandages waited in the pockets of that cloak. Her intent was clear.
Seeing her comrades, Orim strode to them. "Everyone's stable below. There'll be lots more injuries in the caves."
In emulation of Sisay's gesture, Karn ran a yet-warm finger beneath the healer's chin. "We'll all go get him."
The healer's eyes clouded in regret. "Not all of us. Not the one Gerrard wants to see most."
Sisay put one arm around her friend's shoulder. "You did all you could. We all miss her."
The silence that followed was broken by a scampering sound and a shrill squeal.
"Squee go to see him, too!" The green little man vaulted down from the bow gun and clasped hands with his friends.
Karn reached out, wrapping the group in an almighty embrace that lifted them from their feet. He strode purposefully across the deck and leaped over the rail. He fell weightlessly but landed like a hammer on an anvil. The folk in his grip smiled with chattering teeth as he walked into the cave.
Sisay managed to speak for them all. "Thanks, Karn, but I need the exercise."
Considering, Karn tromped to a halt, set his friends down, and gestured ahead of him.
"At least let me lead. I may not be a fighter, but I'm a fair shield."
"A shield?" Sisay said, eloquently staring him up and down. "You're more of a wall."
Squee leaped onto the silver golem's back. "G'won, Karn. You lead, long as Squee rides here."
Satisfied, the massive man tromped down into the Caves of Koilos.
This had been a particularly harsh cul-de-sac. Gerrard had lost ten soldiers to only four Phyrexians. As before, he took out his anger on the bugs' corpses.
Tahngarth and the others meanwhile laid out the bodies of the brave fallen. A torch lighted their heads. There were no longer cloths enough to cover faces. The ten lay staring at the ceiling. Stalactites dripped on them.
Gerrard's sword chopped again into scale and meat. Tahngarth no longer tried to halt the mutilations. Perhaps he understood. Gerrard was only doing to these bodies what their plague had done to Hanna.
Wordless and grim, Tahngarth led the rest of the contingent out of that slaughterhouse. They crowded through the narrow exit and into the passage beyond. Their voices made watery echoes as they headed deeper into the cave. With them went the angry light of the torches.
Gerrard was left with his own torch and the one that tended the fallen.
Cold darkness closed around him. It felt deadly. Gerrard was at home among deadly things. The smell of glisteningoil wreathed him. Positioning a torch at the heads of the four Phyrexians, Gerrard raised his sword. It hung there like a scorpion's tail. The blade fell. A monster's head rolled free with a sound like stone grating on stone…
Gerrard whirled.
A huge, round stone rolled down a track beside the door. With a boom, it sealed off the chamber's only exit.
Gerrard rushed to the stone. He grasped its cold edges and heaved. It did not budge in its track. The corridor beyond was silent and empty.
A rushing sound came behind Gerrard. He spun. Something vast dropped from among the stalactites. Numerous legs riled, outlined in the light of his torch. It was a giant spider-Tsabo Tavoc.
She landed on the torch, extinguishing it with her abdomen. In the sudden murk, legs clicked.
Gerrard lunged, sliding across the bloody cave floor to his fallen comrades. He snatched up the second torch and rose into a crouch. He waved the torch before him. Its fingers of flame were too tepid to reach the chamber's farther spaces.
Gerrard hurled the torch, end over end. It fell atop the Phyrexian dead. Fire leaped to puddles of glistening-oil. With a sudden whoosh, the tiny flame became a great blaze.
Shielding his eyes from the intense illumination, Gerrard scanned the darkness. Lurking beyond the glare, enshrouded in blackness, stood Tsabo Tavoc. She watched the burning corpses with glad fascination. Her compound eyes threw back the raving light.
Gerrard strode steadily toward that horrible apparition, calling out to her. "I see you, destroyer. I see you, Tsabo Tavoc. You took my country. You killed my love. Now, I will kill you."