Soldiers of Legend

by Stephen L. Nowland

  Exhausted, they had stopped for a short rest after hours of travelling through the night. Aiden had been unable to keep his eyes open, and judging by the others lying around nearby, neither had they. Haunted by the dream message from his dying ally, Aiden used the staff they’d found in the ancient tunnels to struggle back on his feet and woke everyone, spurring them on for the final push to Trinity.

  Criosa was twisting and turning in her sleep, cringing from something only she could see. The princess let out a short scream when she finally awoke, and glanced at her surroundings while catching her breath. If anything, she seemed more tired now than before she rested, and the weary expression on her face was heartbreaking. But they simply didn’t have time to recuperate.

  The shifting sands hampered their progress through the desert until they finally reached the highway south of Trinity. Although the ground was dry and cracked, it was also firm and hard, allowing them to ride at a canter towards town. As the pre-dawn light began to lighten the sky, the ominous pall of darkness to the west became obvious.

  “It has to be a hundred miles across,” Aiden breathed in fear.

  “We’re nearly there,” Robert grunted, pushing him on the shoulder to keep him moving. “It looks like the northern edge of the storm will hit Trinity within the hour, but we should be clear of it as we head back to Aielund.”

  When they were finally within sight of Trinity’s south wall, the sand was being whipped up by the increasing winds and their visibility was slowly reduced. The guards had abandoned their post at the south gate to seek shelter, and Aiden couldn’t see any signs of life on the dusty streets when they entered.

  Stung by the sands and buffeted by winds of ever-increasing strength, he despaired they would have to continue onwards without rest to escape the deadly storm. First, he needed to speak with Sahar, in case she knew something about how the staff was put together.

  Aiden gestured for the others to follow him to her abode, and proceeded to lean into the wind as they rode through the empty streets. Most of the houses were built of the same red stone, so locating a specific address proved to be difficult in the deteriorating conditions. Aiden eventually stumbled upon a familiar place and came to a halt under the meagre shelter of Sahar’s veranda, where they all but collapsed against the wall.

  “We can’t stay here!” Robert yelled over the howling winds. “This isn’t even the worst of the storm, not by a long shot.”

  “Sahar might know more about the staff, we have to speak with her!” Aiden called back, receiving a mouthful of sand in the process. He hammered on her door with his armoured fist and awaited a response. A long moment later the door cracked open slightly.

  “This is a bad time, come back later,” she called through the gap, her voice tight. Aiden was about to reply when he noticed Sahar’s eyes looking at him strangely, almost as if she was afraid. He assumed it was to do with the sandstorm, but then she glanced at something over his shoulder for just a moment, and he knew something else was wrong.

  Robert was suddenly thrown against the wall of her house by a big armoured man, with one of his hands clenched around the mercenary’s throat. Aiden was startled by the sudden assault and the women backed towards the doorway as half a dozen more armoured men closed in around them, three of whom carried powerful crossbows now levelled at Sayana. The one holding Robert opened the visor on his helm and revealed a familiar face, fixed in a gloating sneer.

  “Thought you could sneak back into town under cover of the storm eh?” the mercenary Robert had referred to as Brian growled. The door to the house opened further and Sahar was escorted outside by another heavily armed man.

  “I’m so sorry,” she apologised as the mercenary thug shoved her along.

  “You couldn’t have picked a worse time,” Robert growled. “We can talk about this later, man to man, once the storm has died down.”

  “Not good enough this time, Black,” Brian snarled, giving him a solid punch in his gut for his trouble. Robert doubled over and was allowed to collapse to the ground as he struggled for breath. “I want what’s mine, you shifty bastard. You and your friends have a lot of expensive gear — I’ll take my payment from them, if you don’t mind. And if your pretty little witch even lifts a finger, my boys will shoot her.”

  “I didn’t appreciate your meddling in my affairs, girl,” he continued, turning to Sayana with greedy eyes. “I could have let it slide, but putting me on the roof like that really hurt, so I’m going to get my payment from you, personally. Play nice and you’ll live.” He suddenly pulled out a dagger held it up against her throat, and began tearing off her tattered clothes with his other hand to reveal the finely-crafted and expensive elven chain mail underneath.

  “You lot sure are ugly, but not half as ugly as you’re going to be in about ten seconds,” Robert managed to growl as he struggled for breath. Brian sneered back at him, as if daring Robert to try something while protected by his comrades. Aiden was momentarily puzzled at the empty threat until he saw the shadow of something massive moving through the swirling sands behind the mercenaries.

  A metal fist the size of a melon suddenly appeared where one of the crossbowman’s head had been a moment before, showering his comrades in blood and shattered bone. The body slumped to the ground, and Sahar screamed as a huge golem stepped into view, swinging its arms with devastating power as it killed the other two crossbowmen. One of them managed to shoot at his metal foe, though the bolt simply bounced off its impenetrable hide.

  Aiden’s eyes widened as he realized it was one of the constructs similar to those they had discovered under the desert sands, and he couldn’t figure out what it was doing here until he heard the distinctive sounds of houses being destroyed nearby and the heavy metal feet stomping through the streets.

  The Iron Legion had arrived with the storm.

  Nellise tore herself free of her stunned captors as they were turned into bloody corpses a moment later, when another of the towering constructs appeared out of the stinging sands. The remaining mercenaries, unfamiliar with the true nature of their opponents, snapped out of their stupor and drew their weapons, charging to avenge the deaths of their comrades.

  Sayana saw her opportunity to act and invoked a burst of fire. Brian raised his hands to shield himself from the flames and Sayana pushed herself away, diving to the ground as Robert charged at Brian with a bloodthirsty roar, falling to the ground where Robert knocked him unconscious with a single blow to his head.

  “Get them out of here, now!” Aiden instructed Criosa, who grabbed Sahar by the wrist, pulling her clear of the fight. Nellise hurried over and did the same with the Sayana. Their horses had run screaming into the storm, both from the smell of blood and the burst of flames, forcing Aiden the the others to run on foot.

  “Don’t fight, just run,” Robert yelled over the cacophony of Trinity being reduced to rubble as the heel of the Iron Legion came down upon it. The two men raced through streets that were no longer empty, threading their way through hordes of screaming civilians, who ran in terror from the metal army that had appeared out of nowhere.

  Aiden and Robert caught up with the Criosa and the other women as they ran through the throng, heading towards the north gate with their strength flagging. The soldiers of Trinity rushed past, finally engaging the enemy in a brave but futile effort to protect the dying town. Robert hesitated a moment as more men rushed past, and he grabbed one of the officers by the arm and brought him up short. His fury was evident on his swarthy face, but it didn’t deter Robert in the slightest.

  “You have to get everyone out of here,” he exclaimed to the man’s face. “Don’t even try to fight those things, you don’t stand a chance!”

  “I will not abandon my post and leave this place undefended,” the officer roared back. “I am no coward!”

  “If you want to beat these things, get your people to Highmarch — that’s where we make our stand. If you try to fight them here, you’re just going to throw their lives
away.”

  “If we leave, Trinity is doomed,” the officer declared.

  “Trinity is already dead,” Robert roared. “Now do your duty and save these people!” He didn’t wait for an answer, leaving the man to make his decision on his own.

  An odd sound cut through the din, like nothing Aiden had ever heard before. It was almost like a cross between a boiling kettle and an avalanche, and when he turned to find the source, he froze in place as he saw the monster from his nightmares made manifest.

  Seven constructs of the Iron Legion were moving through the town, scattering terrified civilians and with the unyielding might of their metal fists, crushing the soldiers. Behind these was another construct Aiden was all too familiar with.

  It was shorter than the others, but no less massive in its own way, styled in the caricature of an ancient gladiator from a lost empire. The Ironlord strode through the carnage oblivious to the plight of its population, observing the methodical destruction of the town with cold disdain. In one hand it held a sword the size of a man, its edge ringed with a thin line of arcane light.

  Four of Trinity’s defenders broke through their ranks and ran straight at the Ironlord, swinging a variety of weapons at its rust-coloured hide with no apparent effect. The construct’s sword swept in a vicious arc, cutting through iron and flesh with ease and leaving the smouldering husks of broken bodies bleeding on the ground.

  Aiden was transfixed, unable to move or look away as the Ironlord stomped closer and closer. It paused in the shadow of one of Trinity’s larger buildings, raised its empty hand, palm forward, and unleashed a beam of light as bright as the sun. The light turned the ancient red stone into bubbling lava.

  Then, it looked at him. It had no real face and its expression did not change, but Aiden knew instantly that it recognized him. It started moving again, straight towards him with surprising speed and an apparent single-minded determination.

  Before it could close upon him, a horde of mounted warriors thundered past, blocking his view as they engaged the constructs with warhammers that rang with a hollow ‘boom’ with each hit.

  Aiden snapped out of his trance and stumble backward as more cavalry appeared through the storm of fire and sand. He recognized the heraldic device of Aielund on the banners of the brave horsemen.

  “It’s the Aielish army,” Aiden exclaimed as he huddled with his beleaguered companions amongst the chaos. Criosa cried out in adulation at the arrival of her father’s army, and she waved both arms frantically to try and gain their attention. Three heavily armoured horsemen broke off from the fight and rode over to them.

  The knight brought his horse to a standstill and for a long moment looked down impassively at the princess through his iron helm. He raised the visor and revealed a square-jawed man of middling years sporting an unkempt red beard. He stared down at Criosa in disbelief, and when he spoke Aiden recognized him as Seamus Roebec, King of Aielund and Criosa’s father.

  “Criosa? What in blazes are you doing here?” he thundered as the battle raged on around them. “Don’t bother answering, we don’t have time.” With that, he reached down, plucked her from the ground and threw the surprised woman her over his saddle. “Bring these people any horses we can spare,” he instructed one of his companions. “We make for Highmarch, now!”

  “Yes, sire,” a knight replied in a voice made hollow by his helm. Within moments, two warhorses were led over to their position and offered to Aiden and his companions. They would have to ride two per horse, but given their size, the mighty horses would have no trouble carrying the burden.

  Robert lifted Sayana onto the saddle and then climbed up to join her, while Aiden and Nellise clambered on to the other giant horse. She was clearly shaken from the experience, so Aiden handed her the precious staff and took the reins as the king led his army in a withdrawal through the winding streets of Trinity, towards the north gate.

  The wind was unrelenting for the first hour, sending the biting sands of Hocarum high into the air as the sandstorm bore down on Trinity. It was all Aiden could do to keep pace with the others during this time, as the adrenaline rush from the chaotic battle began to ebb and fatigue set in from the long journey.

  Eventually the winds began to ease as they cleared the path of the storm, and looking back, Aiden could see nothing but the dark, angry skies blotting out everything behind them. He could also see the ‘army’ consisted of perhaps two dozen mounted soldiers, some of whom were clearly wounded. At the front of the column rode the king himself, with Criosa sitting on the front of his saddle.

  Beside them was a familiar figure in black robes, riding upon a roan charger — Terinus, the king’s wizard.

  They continued past the rocky terrain and red soil as the small army cantered on, slowing to a walk every now and then to preserve their mounts, but Aiden knew they were pushing them to the limits of their endurance.

  During one of these brief respites, one of the others riders handed him a pouch containing some trail rations, and while the dried meat was tough and bland, it was filling and restored some of his vigour. Nellise nibbled some herself, but didn’t seem to have much of an appetite.

  “Are you going to be okay?” Aiden asked out of concern.

  “I’m just a little shaken, that’s all,” she replied quietly. “The further we travel from civilization, the more likely it is to run into people such as Brian,” she clarified. “There’s something about men knowing there’s little or no authority to keep them in check, that makes some of them go a little insane. If the Iron Loegion didn’t show up right then and there, who knows what would have happened to us.”

  “Seems that way,” Aiden muttered, unable to dispute her point. The casual walk was over all too soon and they were off at a canter once more as the Highmarch Mountains loomed before them. The sun was beginning to dip towards the western horizon when they reached the escarpment, passing the site where Aiden and his companions had made camp several nights ago. The dangerous cliff soared above them, a natural bulwark against the ravages of the desert, and serving as a deterrent to those who sought to escape the desolation of the south.

  The company formed a single line and began walking along the narrow road that wound its way up the side of the cliff. Aiden groaned inwardly as he realised there would be no rest until they had climbed the escarpment.

  He lowered himself to the ground and walked the tired horse for a time, for the poor beast had run for most of the day after having fought for god knows how long before that. Looking around at the faces of the king’s soldiers, he could see fatigue, loss and despair.

  As the column slowly navigated the escarpment, Aiden looked to the south where he could make out pillars of black smoke billowing into the sky, mixed with the red sands of the desert. Trinity had most likely been destroyed, but he was pleased to see a line of survivors traveling along the road, just clear of the sandstorm and making for the escarpment. Of the Iron Legion, there was no sign, but it could only be a matter of time until the ancient war machines emerged from the destruction and made their way towards Highmarch.

  The tired party trudged onwards, knowing the relative safety of the top of the cliff wasn’t far away. It was just before sunset they finally reached the end of the ascent. Soldiers who had made the climb without complaint almost fell from their mounts, and it was then Aiden noticed that almost all of them were wounded.

  Nellise noticed this too, and after having rested on the back of the horse for the entire climb, she dismounted and moved amongst the wounded, providing care for those in need. Aiden left her to it and made his way over to see Criosa, noticing the king had slumped to the ground as well.

  “Are you alright, Majesty?” Aiden asked as he approached. The king glanced up at him, pulling off his helm and tossing it aside as he appraised the young man crouching next to him.

  “Forgive me, but I do not recall your name,” he croaked in a voice heavy with fatigue.

  “Sir Aiden Wainwright,” he replied as Crios
a sat beside him, pale and wan. She took his hand in hers, eliciting a raised eyebrow from her father at the rather obvious statement of her affection.

  “I am well enough, considering,” King Seamus finally answered, running a hand through his hair. “We should be safe enough here, allowing us a chance to rest before the final push to Highmarch tomorrow.”

  “I wanted to thank you for rescuing us,” Aiden said. “If you hadn’t arrived, those damned constructs would have killed us all.”

  “Our arrival was no coincidence, Sir Aiden,” the familiar rasping voice of Terinus stated as the wizard appeared from behind them, appearing just as he had inside the fort days before. “Trinity is of little value to anyone, save those who live there. Do you not find it strange the Ironlord decided to assault a town of such minor significance?”

  “I hadn’t given it much thought,” Aiden answered dryly. “I’ve been busy riding for my life, as have you.”

  “We needed to buy Highmarch time, and for our forces to withdraw back to the fort,” the king explained tiredly. “The cursed things never sleep, never tire. They don’t stop until their target is destroyed, so to survive, I had to make a hard choice.”

  “You led them to Trinity,” Criosa whispered in disbelief. “You sacrificed that entire town so you could escape.”

  “They perished to serve the greater good, Highness,” Terinus pointed out somewhat callously. “The Iron Legion would be right behind us, hounding our every move until we toppled over from exhaustion, were it not for His Majesty’s decision.”

  “I haven’t slept in three nights,” Seamus rumbled. “We’ve been at each other’s throats for so long now, it’s all a blur. So many casualties…”

  “You should rest while you can, sire,” Terinus softly advised from the obscure depths of his hood. “Further questions can wait until the morning.”

  The king’s head slumped against his chest and he was asleep within moments. Criosa sat looking at her father, a mixture of a daughter’s love and a princess’s disappointment upon her fine features. Seamus was beloved by his subjects, but if they heard about this atrocity, they might be far less accepting of his decisions.