Iron and Flame

by Alex Morgenstern

  A few Itruschian heroes perished, making way to the sons of Hunaz. The second row of Legionaries defended their position bravely, thus wasting the enemy’s patience and energy. The great warriors of Itruschia kept assembling, strengthening the second row, but the invading horde was too numerous and wild. They would soon pass through the first two rows. Florianus turned his horse around and rode out through the stone bridge, pulling the reins and turning around to ride toward the Itruschian cavalry. They awaited, their eyes serious, rather sad, observing how their comrades succumbed. Still there were a few more rows of legionaries defending the riverside. The enemy had to get through the bridge. They were more numerous, they could not lose to those barbarians.

  But still, Florianus feared what had happened fifteen years ago. Yes, nomads had proven themselves in battle before. Perhaps he had underestimated them.

  He clenched his teeth. Yes, he had. So foolish of him, he should have requested for more assistance. He would be humiliated. If he died, he would be remembered as the man who lost Adachia.

  He wouldn’t allow it.

  He rode furiously, glazing at his mounted troops. A long line of warriors, javelin attached to their saddles, long spears in hand along with their shields.

  “Brave men of Itruschia. Fifteen years ago, a hundred thousand barbarians swept over our borders and massacred millions. They rode to our great Capital. They burned down our villages, raped our women and murdered our children. Our late general Larius and I both lost brothers and dear friends to those savages. I lost my only son. Now it's time to fight. Ours is the greatest line of defence. Five thousand of us, with superior shields, superior strategy. Even if we are to die, I swear upon this iron sword that they shall not pass! Send this words to the rest of the legion.”

  “Aye!” they responded, their spears held high. The centurions rode on and shared the speech with the farthest sections.

  Then, their enemy passed through the second line and poured into the bridge. From above the Sanctuary to the Hero, hidden in the bushes, another line of archers shoot at the wicked barbarians. A line of infantrymen awaited on the other shore, their shields clasped together, their javelins flying through the air and piercing their uncouth armours.

  Florianus saw them attempt to cross over the other side, through the other bridge. And yet, they did not know the ditches and traps he had set for them.

  It was time to advance.

  The battle raged on. Florianus knew they had been weakened. And then, he saw what he had waited for long, the legionaries were pushing them back to where they came from. They marched in close formations, the barbarians started to disperse. It was a sign that the battle was not absolutely lost.

  But the enemy reformed their ranks and attacked once again, this time, they pierced through. The phalanx was completely obliterated, they rode on, their mounted archers quickly taking down the ones posted above the sanctuary.

  “Ready!” he said, calling on his cavalry unit. “Charge!” he shouted, and he led, his spear forward, ready to meet the enemy lancers and archers. Both armies clashed on the small piece of charred land, but why . . . How could it be . . . Florianus feared their blades, their arrows too precise, even on their mounts, pierced through the vital organs of Itruschian warriors. Their spears were too fierce. And they kept riding, impaling the fallen ones, destroying the lancers and cavalrymen. The defence of Thrachia was falling.

  As their cavalry fell back, Florianus and his men retreated to the hills. He was one of the last, as he had been in the very front of battle. The barbarians scattered, trying to reach the heights of the valley, and then, the furtive arrows of the Itruschian elite pierced through them. From the forest, from the heights, the Itruschian men held their ground. Florianus smiled when he saw the black spears impale their enemies. They scrambled towards the hills, bit by bit, a few of them did, still engaging in battle with the Itruschians left behind, who defended the path that led to the hills with all their might.

  Florianus smiled, they were falling like flies, desperately trying to reach the village. A black top hill ballista was fired, aimed directly at one of the generals, the middle aged one. It went through his entire body and impaled his ugly face against a tree.

  The barbarians were already starting to waste. They were weak in those areas. The phalanx strategy had weakened them, it would no longer be easy to push through.

  “Surrender!” he shouted from the hilltop.

  A disgruntled barbarian aimed and shot at him. He quickly blocked with his shield. Their bluff had been exposed as a lie. Florianus saw the fear disfiguring their faces, frustration, and rage, while the Glorious Itruschian Empire prevailed, their sons and daughters from the Holy Peninsula, those of Suevian, of Kaltanian, of Habeshians and people of the Three Rivers.

  “Hail our great Empire!” Florianus cried.

  And then, the earth shook. Florianus' horse stumbled, raising its nose, as if a catapult had struck the great Titan who held the earth on his shoulders. Florianus turned around. The battle below had seemed to slow down, as both friend and foe paused their blows and turned around to see what had happened. Had a star fallen? Florianus heard of such accounts, of great craters dug in the ground, sometimes of great earthquakes that split the earth in two. He remembered there had been an earthquake a few months prior.

  And when he turned, he felt as if his soul escaped from his feet and left him alone. A few people fainted on his side, but he just raised his eyes, to ensure that what he was seeing was not delusion nor dream.

  A huge creature stood in the midst of the village. From there, it looked as tall as a mountain. Florianus' heart started pounding as if in trance, and the being that towered over the trees and houses seemed strangely familiar, like a fragment of his own memories. Its flesh was bronze coloured, its muscles imposed each upon the other, like a segmented armour, its face like a helmet. No eyes could be seen, nor nose or mouth, only a void shaped like a cross.

  What was that?

  The creature grasped the trunk of a birch and pulled it out, like a farmer harvesting carrots. With it, he swept the ground around him. From there, although partially hidden by buildings and trees, Florianus could not miss the armoured human bodies cast into the air like dandelions cast away by a strong wind.

  “It’s the giants! They were right!” one of the infantrymen by his side shouted, he fell to his knees. “We are doomed.”

  Julius was pale. He could not believe it.

  Florianus stepped back, his mind rattled inside his brain. What should he do? Should he order their soldiers to run? No, a real warrior, a proud Itruschian, a man of honour, had to fight.

  “Archers, defend the line against the barbarians, we shall deal with that creature. The horsemen that are with me, let us march on.”

  “Sir,” a soldier whispered by his side.

  “I need six archers—you, you, also you. Not you, you. Let’s go, quick!”

  They passed through the main road, and Florianus opened his eyes in awe when the creature kicked down the barbarian sanctuary, tearing the roof away, and crushing the pillars. From the high boulder, Florianus saw the priest and a soldier crouching like scared animals.

  “Archers, aim at the beast!” Florianus shouted.

  The archers prepared their bows and shot at the beast’s head. Their arrows flew and crashed against its massive chest, bouncing off and breaking in two. The creature did not flinch.

  ***

  “Grandfather!” Kassius screamed, feeling his throat tighten up as the creature pulled the roof out of the shrine. Dust spread through the air and the pillared walls tumbled as if made of clay. A creeping fear pierced his heart like an iron spear. His grandfather, old, wise, but fragile, had probably stood beneath the shadow of those marble pillars.

  “Well,” Kassara said, strangely calm. “Hell, I did not want to die like that. Trampled like an ant. It’s terrible.”

  “Damn, damn, damn them,” Kassius yelled again, gri
tting his teeth. Even if he were not chained, his body would still be paralysed in shock and fear. He knew about giants, and he had survived one at the beginning of the year. It had been only luck. His grandfather, if he only could run downhill, take his hand and run with him to the old charred forest. His mind struggled to find an answer, but gave it not to him.

  “I be damned,” Kassara said, her pale face unflinchingly fixed on the beast. As was everybody’s.

  “It’s fine, Kassius,” she continued. “It was time for your old man to escape this miserable world. Lucky for him.”

  “We’re . . . probably not going to die, Kassara.”

  “That giant . . . You said he flew away,” Raxana said, craning her neck to better look at Kassius. “Why on earth would he come back?”

  Kassius took a deep breath.

  “I have no idea,” he growled. “No damn idea. Oh gods, gods, gods, no . . .”

  “I am sorry, Kassius. That doesn’t look good,” Raxana said.

  “Oh hell it doesn’t.”

  Kassius pursed his lips. All that travelling, all those victories and triumphs, amounting to nothing. To becoming an ant. It could not be. He tried to look ahead in the future. Yes, he had seen more things, more visions. There was something else destined for him and them. But how? His father had probably died. That, he had not expected. For days he had yearned to see him. He had been locked up in a cell so near to his Grandfather’s shrine, and hoped, at least for a miracle, to give him a last look, maybe even a word of thanks before his demise.

  But Kassius knew, there where there was faith, there was hope.

  “Keep praying,” Kassius said. “There must be a way to escape.”

  The beast took a step back and stepped on a house, crushing it completely.”

  “That’s where my cousin lives . . .” Raxana said.

  “Stop him, Kassius, my mother is around,” Irema said.

  “I think I just lost my grandfather. Hell, if only he had left the place . . . If only he knew.”

  And then, a catapult rang and launched a huge rock at the giant’s face. Its head rattled back, like a man eating a sucker punch. But it did not even knock it out.

  “It looks like they made him really mad.”

  “Blast . . . Damn them all to Hades. How could they be so stupid?” Kassius yelled, his breath agitated.

  The guards who were behind them held their spears.

  “What, you knew about this?"

  “Yes!” Kassius yelled.

  “What . . . Did you summon it, you damn sorcerer?” The soldier pressed his steel lance against Kassius' stomach. “I heard you could do magic, that damned slave talked about it?”

  Kassius gasped.

  “Well, no . . . But the stars were clear to see, of course I knew. They rose three months ago, when Larius died.”

  “You bastard!” the soldier said. “You unleashed this upon us.”

  The earth shook again. Kassius turned his head, the giant had jumped down into the old burnt forest, between both armies. That catapult strike had not been pleasant. The giant waved his arms, like the blades of a windmill, swinging and throwing horses and men alike. Kassius watched in fear as the giant stepped on men and beasts, leaving nothing but puddles of flesh and bone.

  “Can you expel him? Sorcerer?" cried the other soldier.

  “I . . . Yes! I can.”

  “How?”

  “Let me go.”

  “We can’t let him go,” the short guard said. “They’ll open our guts and hang us like traitors.”

  “Kill you? You won’t even survive.”

  He sighed.

  “I say we kill you, what if you’re controlling the beast.”

  “What? That’s absurd.”

  The soldiers’ sweat poured.

  And then, a rider approached, its horse short but sturdy. It was Florianus. He dismounted, his short sword glistening in his hand with the last ray of the sun.

  “Sir!” the soldiers straightened and stood tall. “This young.

  “There’s no time. Kill them quickly. We can’t let them survive.”

  He approached with his blade and stood next to Gitara.

  “I did what I could for your son . . .” he said, looking into his eyes.

  Gitara spat on his face.

  “You ungrateful whore!”

  “Overseer!” Kassius yelled, and started talking as fast as he could. “Listen to me! There’s a secret refuge beneath the forest.”

  “What?” Florianus stopped short.

  “That’s the way we hid from you all this time. Please, release us, and we will take you there. It’s the only way to survive!”

  “You disgusting scum you did it.” Florianus clenched his teeth in rage, he looked offended. “Release him, only him!” he cried.

  “Wait, release the rest of them, please.”

  “You are in no position to negotiate.”

  “Sir, please.”

  The guards released Kassius from his shackles and he fell forward.

  "Please let them go.”

  “I'll let them rot here.”

  “I won't go without my friends!” Kassius said.

  “You prefer to die then?" Florianus said.

  The earth shook again, and they all gazed into the battlefield, hundreds were crushed mercilessly by the creature.

  “Go, Kassius,” Kassara said. “We will be fine, you can continue our struggle.”

  “Stop being foolish, his sentence shall not be overturned.”

  “Go,” Florianus said.

  “I won’t go!”

  Florianus snapped his fingers at the guards, they looked at Kassius and punched him in the stomach. Kassius fell on his knees, gasping, he clenched his fists, grasping rocks from the floor and looked up.

  “Make him come!”

  “It’s a lot of walking!” Kassius said, and was interrupted by a right haymaker to his cheek that knocked him to the side. Then, a kick to his ribs that felt like a hammer tearing through his bone.

  “Leave him alone!” Kassara screamed.

  Another kick brushed the back of his head, another one in the stomach.

  “You fools! He is the only one that can save you all!” Ira said. “You’re destroying him.”

  The soldiers suddenly stopped.

  “Ask your commander if he’ll take you to the refuge! He won’t!”

  “You will take us, won’t you?" one of the soldiers asked.

  Florianus took a deep breath, he kept looking back, at the giant monster tearing through his armies.

  “Yes, yes, pick him up, let’s do it.”

  “Listen,” Kassius muttered, wiping the blood off his face. “There are three or four refuges we can take, let them go, they all know the way. Try to get as many people as you can. But let us take our loved ones.”

  Florianus clenched his teeth.

  “Fine, let them all go.”

  “Yes.” They quickly disengaged the locks of their shackles, and the company was free again.

  “Fine!” Kassara said. “Kasha, if you will, let me take charge.”

  “I will do it.”

  “You, Tor, Raxana and Aliya go to the forest. I will take them to the refuge beneath the shrine, and Raxana will take them to the cave.”

  “Agreed,” they said. Kassius limped out, he tried to stand straight. “Let’s go, we have the quickest way.”

  “You say we go to the forest? That’s ridiculous.”

  “Follow me!” Kassius said, limping down, from where Alana’s house was, passing through the bushes and trees, leaving the village behind. From there, he could see the Itruschian archers assembled behind a wall. Beneath, a long trek of charred land. Florianus rode below, he looked back at the archers. They had to defend themselves, they still had to protect. How could he run away like that? Who could he save?

  “Sir, let’s save ourselves,” Kassius muttered. “Later we can find
out how to defeat them.”

  But the giant was sweeping across the land with giant’s steps.

  “You know what?” Kassius asked. “Let’s all go down to the shrine.”

  “What? Is there a refuge there?”

  “Yes, most of it has been locked but yes.”

  “Alright, let’s get out of here,” Florianus said. They turned around, jumping back to the village.

  “We’re all going to the shrine.”

  “Alright,” Raxana said.

  “As they kept going down, they saw hundreds of women rushing down along with Kassara.”

  “Hey, that is not fair! I will punish you after this,” he said toKassius.

  “You’re going to be saved, so keep going.”

  Florianus spurred on his horse, leaving them behind, making way for himself through the crowd. He would be the first.

  “Make way, women!” he cried.

  As the battle raged beneath. He pulled the reins. He faced the giant, swearing he would not die a coward.

  He trotted to the side, where his men were warring against the beast. They were to die. If he lived, he would live as a coward. That, he would not allow himself to be.

  ***

  As the Overseer’s horse neighed, something fell off his bag. Kassius ran to grab it, it was not the book he took from Tor. It was an older volume encased in leather straps. He grabbed it quickly and rushed towards the refuge.

  The shrine had been completely defaced, but there was no sign of his grandfather. Now, hundreds of people had rushed there, and were descending the steps of the secret passage that had hid for ages. Raxana had been smarter, and tied the curtains and ropes to the ever grand pillars, helping the sturdier women to get down into the tunnel.

  Kassius saw Irema embracing her mother. He pushed through and saw dozens of women descending, each would have to take their turns, and it would take some time. He also wondered where the general had gone.

  As it would take him time, he took a look at the book. It was all in cuneiform, an ancient language, too ancient. He flipped to the pages and was bewildered when he recognized the sigil of the Sword. He had done it before, when enchanting the sword.