Mind Forged: Book One of the Enchanters of Xarparion Read Free

approaching wall devolved into individuals rather than a single mass. Walking corpses, mostly wearing rags, probably former innocent farm folk, carrying whatever weapons came easily to their putrefying grasps. Mindless, some even eyeless and brainless, they plodded forward. To a child born of nature, this sight was more bone chilling than anything else imaginable for there was nothing natural about this scene - it was sheer abomination. In addition to the zombies, here and there wights and ghouls bobbed in and out of the line, as if to drive the lesser undead forward faster. They were more powerful and smarter than the simple zombies and skeletons. Maya knew they were also cowardly and usually content to have the corpses wear down their opponents to the point of utter exhaustion before moving in for the easy kill.
    At a hundred yards, the circle was complete and the horde was fifty deep or more in all directions. The sounds of their shuffling feet battered Maya’s senses like a gravelly rockslide. As if on cue, the first sign of life appeared in the sky above and she took a second to squint up at the black buzzards now tightly circling. Pulling her gaze back down, she inspected her battered sword. A gift from her father years before, it was still more of a practice weapon than a true champion’s blade, but she kept it ruthlessly sharp nonetheless and its leather wrappings freshly tied. At thirty yards, the wave of rotting flesh smell hit her acute nose like an avalanche, and her ears could pick up the background sound of lip smacking and moaning above the dragging crunch of footsteps. Her eyes noted a trail of dark miasmal fluids behind some of the fresher corpses and she had to stifle a retch. Quickly putting that visual aside, she took a last deep breath and brought her weapon and shield to bear. As an elven warrior, she would fight in the proud manner of her people and die with dignity if nothing else.
    With a quick glance around her , she judged the left side to be the closest, bounded forward and swept her sword in a darting arc to that side, cleanly removing the heads of two corpses, who dropped like cordwood in their tracks. The next row moving forward tripped over the bodies and rolled clumsily to the dirt. Milling about, more went down as the zombies and skeletal warriors were not intelligent enough to avoid the obstacles. The left side was piling up nicely and Maya allowed herself a grim smile. As she felt a slight tug against the back of her armored shirt, she spun around and realized the undead on the right were closing in. Pounding the pommel of her sword into the dripping jawless face of a zombie practically on top of her, she followed with a savage kick to its torso that drove it back into its peers and toppled several, causing yet another pile up. The undead horde to the other two directions received similar treatment. Soon her sword and armor were caked with slime and foot space was becoming a very scarce commodity as the undead continued to press forward on her position. Maya’s sword sang in constant motion and with every swing, black ichors splattered off the blade, but she was fighting an opponent that knew no fear, no fatigue and no doubt.
    Finally , even the best-trained warriors are subject to the vagarities of fate, and in another attempt to kick back a deep-chested, rag-covered skeleton, Maya watched in detached horror as her booted foot burst all the way through her opponent’s ribcage and became lodged there. Having used most of her momentum and flagging strength in the jump, she was unable to withdraw her foot in time to catch herself. Maya went down hard on her back as the other sides of the undead wall swarmed over her. On the ground, she watched dispassionately what should have been her last living sight, as a large rusty axe blade cleaved toward her face. Suddenly a large silvery white object blotted out the sun and the zombies standing over her! Instead of the lull in the battle she was