Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

long has this been going on?' asked Taggert breathlessly.
    'About three hours, we think,' said Doyle. 'It caught us all by surprise. I mean, nothing ever happens in the West Wing. Then two of our patrols went into the Wing and didn't come out again. Captain Blood took a Sanctuary and some men and went in after them. They should have been safe enough; Grey Davey is one of the strongest Sanctuaries we've ever had.'
    'What happened?' said Taggert.
    'The Unreal is loose in the West Wing. It found them, and rolled right over them. They never stood a chance. Only five of them came back, all of them horribly injured. The Sanctuary's dying.'
    The three of them slowed their pace as they came to a makeshift barricade that blocked off the corridor.
    Tables and chairs had been dragged out of adjoining rooms, stacked roughly together and tied in place.
    A dozen or so guards manned the barricade. They nodded grimly to Captain Doyle as he approached, and a few of them even managed some kind of salute for the Steward. She gave them her best calm and reassuring smile, but inwardly she was shocked by the guards' faces. They were white and drawn and very frightened. The guards all held swords, but their hands were trembling. The men looked to be on the edge of exhaustion, as though they'd just been through a major battle.
    'Report,' said Captain Doyle. 'Has the situation changed while I've been gone?'
    The guards looked at one another, and finally one of them stepped forward. When he spoke, his voice was little more than a whisper.
    'It's getting closer, sir. We can feel it. About half an hour ago something came flying towards us out of the darkness. It was bone white and ugly and it screamed like a hungry child. We cut it to pieces and it still didn't die. In the end we had to burn it before it'd stop moving. We're still holding the line, sir. But I don't know how much longer we can hold it, without reinforcements.'
    Doyle nodded grimly.'How's Captain Blood?'
    'Asking for you, sir. I think you'd better see him.'
    Doyle gripped the man's shoulder for a moment, in silent recognition of what he'd been through, and then he led Taggert and Cord into a nearby room. Five men lay on the floor on makeshift stretchers. Two of them had blankets pulled up over their faces. Another was asleep. He twitched and moaned constantly.
    Both his arms were covered in bloodstained bandages. Captain Timothy Blood was sitting on his stretcher with his back to the wall, and his sword across his lap. His right arm ended too soon in a wad of bloodstained wrappings. His face was wet with sweat, and his eyes were haunted. Grey Davey lay beside him, hunched and twisted under a thick blanket. Blood nodded to Doyle, and then to the Steward. He started to get up, but Taggert quickly waved him back.
    'Tell me what happened,' she said quietly.
    'For a while it didn't look too bad,' said Blood. His voice was unnaturally calm. Probably shock. 'Scary, but nothing Davey couldn't handle. Then the Unreal came roaring out of nowhere and swept over us like a wave. Davey tried to buy us some time to get out, but he couldn't hold it back. Most of my men died in the first few seconds. The rest of us got out by staying close to Davey. He took the worst of it on himself, deliberately.'
    'What happened to him?' said Taggert.
    'See for yourself.'
    Cord stepped forward and knelt beside the Sanctuary. He pulled back the blanket as gently as he could, and then had to
    look away. Taggert wanted to, but wouldn't let herself be weak. This was her job. Grey Davey's body was twisted and misshapen. His ribs had swollen and burst out through the flesh. His legs had fused into a single boneless tail. His hands had scales and claws. His eyes were gone.
    'He didn't live long,' said Blood. 'Fortunately. We left a lot of good men behind us in the West Wing, you know. Good men. They never stood a chance. We got back here, the four of us, dragging Davey between us. Started the barricade, and found Doyle and his men. And that's it. That's the story. And God have mercy on all our souls.'
    Cord covered Grey Davey with the blanket again. Taggert blinked away the beginning of tears. She couldn't be weak now. The others needed her to be strong.
    'You did well,' she said finally. 'Now take a rest. I'll have you and the others escorted out of here as soon as possible. And don't worry; we'll put the West Wing right again, I promise you.'
    She turned and left, and Cord and Doyle followed her out. In the