The Hedge Wizard

Madeleine advanced into the occupied room, unfazed by the bloodhorrors that strode toward her. The creatures lofted their greatswords of black steel with strong arms. They were slightly shorter than a man, their backs hunched, their bodies muscled and covered in scaly red skin.

At the sight of the aura of the war god rising around Madeleine, they seemed to hesitate, but there was no escape for them now. Celaine and Kesha were ready for any that attempted to flee, and Hump and Randall stood in the only open exit.

Randall’s Frostfire expanded from him in an aura. Hump felt it on himself, coating him in a thin layer of ice, yet it didn’t feel cold. Instead, he felt essence pulse through him. Ahead of him, the same ice formed over Madeleine’s armour, sword and shield, making her gleam.

Inside, Skander stood over the wounded man, poised with his daggers like a cat ready to pounce. The hellhounds snuck closer, but he surged at the closest one, a whirlwind of blades, tearing apart its body in a bloody dance and forcing the two others to retreat. Hump reached into his pocket, pulling out a handful of stones he’d grabbed outside. He held them out and launched them at the creatures in a bronze barrage.

Their cries drew a glance from the bloodhorrors which was when Madeleine barrelled forward, slamming into the closest bloodhorror with her shield and throwing it off balance. It screamed as contact with Randall’s blessing on the shield formed a layer of ice over its chest. Madeleine swung her sword at the second creature, engaging in a fierce exchange of blows. She beat the creature back with ease, steel ringing like a hammer in the small house. Randall unleashed an orb of frostfire at the first, shattering over the creature and turning the front half of its body entirely to ice.

Hump pushed through the gap they’d created, striding confidently into the room, his staff levelled toward the devil spawn.

Panic set in as the creature saw him approaching. It backed up until it was against the rear wall, eyes glancing at the stairs. Before it could run, Hump levelled his staff at the creature. Tendrils of bronze exploded from the focus, piercing the rocks around the room that still brimmed with essence.

“Rockshot.”

A dozen rocks shot at the creature from all over the floor, leaving trails of bronze light in the air. They slammed into the body of the devil spawn and its mount, hitting hard enough to pierce the skin. The devil spawn let out a shrill scream and fell against the wall. Its four legs shook beneath it as it stumbled toward the stairs, but Hump was ready for it.

“Stonewall.”

The room shook as a mound of earth and stone burst through the wooden flooring, filling the staircase and blocking it off. The creature was completely locked in now.

Hump advanced on the devil spawn as it stared at him with fearful eyes. The creature seemed to realise there was no escape, and fight returned to it. Pale red essence rose from it, surrounding the small flesh-growth-like creature in power. The arteries connecting it to the hellhound rose like grotesque hair in the wind.

Its power lurched forward, pale essence sweeping at Hump. He felt a stab of pain in his head as its attack struck.

“OBEY!” came a deep voice in his mind, completely unlike the physical devil spawn.

“Far too weak,” Hump snapped back.

The dragon in his blood roared, powerful intent surging through him and severing the connection. The devil spawn screamed again, this time wincing in pain. Its aura wavered, the intent behind its magic faltering.

Its four beady eyes widened as it realised there was nothing left between it and Hump.

Essence surged through Hump, infusing his staff with red heat. “Lava Coils.”

Tendrils of molten rock burst from his staff, coiling around the devil spawn and its hellhound mount and binding it tightly within. It let loose an inhuman shriek.

“Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!”

Smoke hissed from around the tendrils. The stench of burning filled the air. Flesh crackled. The screams went quiet, but still Hump did not relent. Only when all trace of the demon’s aura faded did Hump finally release his spell, leaving the blackened corpse of the creature to flop to the ground.

He stared at it for a moment, torn between anger and guilt for causing such agony. As he turned to the tormented guard behind him, however, that guilt faded.

He had no mercy for demons. Not when they did… this.

The armoured guard was still alive. He was on his back, torn between panicked cries and wheezing gasps. His lower legs were little but tattered flesh, crushed within his plate armour. His left foot was gone entirely. There was no healing it—not unless there was a priest out there that could restore a limb, though Hump hadn’t heard of any.

“We have you,” Madeleine said, kneeling over him. “You’re safe. We won’t let anything more happen to you, on my honour as a Shieldmaiden of Byzantius.”

The man’s eyes seemed torn between relief and disbelief. He was bleeding fast, Hump wasn’t sure how conscious he still was, but something had to be done. He was alive, and he would damn well keep him that way.

Hump opened his potion pouch, taking out a sleeping draught. “Give him this. It’s going to knock you out while we get you somewhere safe.”

Madeleine put the potion to the guard’s lips, and he swallowed compliantly.

Randall prepared another potion—from the sickly red colour, a healing tonic of some sort.

“Not yet,” Hump said quickly. “We need to remove his armour.”

“What?” Randall asked. “The man’s going to bleed to death.”

“If we heal him like this, his body will heal around the damaged armour, and then he’ll be in even more trouble. We need to remove it.”

Hump was on his knees, trying to unbuckle the damaged armour but having little luck with how damaged it was.

“Let me,” Madeleine said. She pulled it apart with her enhanced strength, snapping leather straps and bending steel with ease.

At some point, Celaine and Kesha arrived at the house.

“We’ve scouted the area,” Celaine said. “No more demons, and no other survivors.”

Hump let out a sigh and nodded. “Good work with the imps.”

Finally, they managed to get the last piece of armour free. Hump had never seen such damaged limbs on a living body before. Blood oozed from the wounds, slowed only by the sleeping draught.

“Give him the potion now,” Hump said.

Randall did as he was instructed, and immediately the bleeding started to slow. Flesh tightened and made an attempt to knit itself back together, but with a wound like this it would need more help.

Standing, Hump held his staff over the man’s leg, the Silver Sprig dangling toward the wound and swaying gently. Over his travels, he’d had more than enough time to infuse the leaves with essence again.

“What are you doing?” Randall asked.

Ignoring the stupid question, Hump activated the artifact. The leaves radiated silver light, filling the room with their divine power. Before stunned eyes, the wounds stitched themselves together and closed. The bleeding stopped. Skin reformed over damaged legs. The tattered bits of flesh dried and fell away, leaving one intact leg, and another that was missing the lower leg beneath the knee.

In the end, it had used three of the six leaves on the sprig—less than Countess Daston’s injuries. Hump wondered if that was because Countess Daston was a powerful Chosen, or because her wound had been even more complicated than this.

With the wounds closed, the eyes of his new companions stared at him, shocked.

“What power is this, Wizard?” Randall asked.

“One I would prefer you not mention again.”

“That healing… I’ve seen sixth circle Chosen of Emirai with less capability.”

“And imagine how upset they’ll be if they realise I’m stepping on their toes,” Hump said. “Please, keep this between us. It’s not a spell I can use particularly frequently.”

He held Randall’s gaze, unsure how the lordling would react to the request.

“Not a soul shall hear of it from us.” Hump was surprised at the earnestness behind those words.

The others muttered their agreements.

“Right,” Hump said. “We should return to the main force. I’m wishing we brought a horse with us now.”

“I’ll carry him,” Madeleine said.

Skander snickered. “Nothing makes me feel quite so blessed as having a Chosen of Byzantius in the party to do all the heavy lifting.”

“Do you realise how much you laugh like an imp?” Madeleine asked.

Skander’s laughter was cut short, and he glared at her. “Now that’s just rude.”

***

They caught up to the main force while it was still light. It was a simple matter of making their way back to the road and then following it northward. Hump’s bond with Nishari was like a guiding star at night—even without the road, he could have never been lost.

The convoy was set up in a wagon station alongside the road. It was a large clearing designed for such convoys to rest come nightfall. With the presence of demons in the area, it seemed Marcela had taken the decision to create a wagonfort for the night, forming a circle of wagons around where the soldiers and everyone else set up camp. Considering what Hump had seen today, it was a good decision. These demons were weak for a group of Chosen and a wizard of his level, but many of these soldiers would have stood little chance.

Nishari perked up as they neared. She raced out of the encampment to the worried shouts of the guards atop the outer wagons. It wasn’t long before more shouts joined them, alerting the encampment to their return.

A hundred people left the wagons to greet them, coming forward with excited smiles and cheers. A path opened amongst them for Marcela and Len as the two came to greet them at the edge of the wagonfort.

Seeing the injured man on Madeleine’s shoulders, she quickly called for healers.

“He will be fine,” Hump said. “Other than the missing foot.”

She gave Hump’s staff a knowing look. “I see. And how did it go?”

“We found the demons in a small hamlet where they were toying with this poor man,” Hump said. “We slew them. As far as we could tell, we got all of them.”

Marcela let out a relieved breath. “Good. Well done, all of you.”

“There was a devil spawn amongst them,” Randall said. “The creature wasn’t particularly powerful, but it was intelligent. I suspect it led the group around the fortress for easy prey.”

Marcela gave Randall a complicated look. “Then I’m glad you were able to handle them. Thank you, Randall. All of you should rest up and get some food.”

As Hump followed her into the camp, soldiers gathered in closer, cheering their return. Seeing the faces of all the soldiers around him, their bravery in coming here was suddenly apparent. The armoured guard they’d rescued could have been any one of them. Coming to the Fallen Lands was a terrifying prospect even to him, but these people were weak enough that a lone hellhound or imp could kill them easily. Alone, they would fall, but together they were a bastion of courage and steel against the dark forces beyond Alveron’s borders.

People clapped him on the shoulders, asking him to come to their fires for food and drink, or to tell the tale of their battle. Hump did his best to politely decline, sticking close to Celaine and Nishari as they neared Marcela’s pavilion. He’d spent too much time in the shadow of Bud—he was the face of their party. The noble knight that swooped in and saved the day. For these people to see Hump… it was something else.

The attention certainly made him uncomfortable, but he couldn’t help his smile. For perhaps the first time, he felt recognised by his own people. He turned to Celaine to see the same grin on her face.

Morale was high. They’d saved a life. And today marked the first victory on their quest to the Infernal Halls.