by C S Vass
“They come!” a voice roared over the others.
Godwin and Robert scrambled to look. Indeed, several groups of sun warriors were approaching the village. It was difficult to say which side had more men. This would not be an epic battle where thousands perished. Each group likely was not larger than one-hundred men.
“Gods be damned, what is it that they’ve brought?” one of the wolves shouted.
“Jackals? Bloodhounds?” Different voices continue to make various suggestions.
“It matters not what they’ve brought!” Rolph screamed. “We’ll butcher man and beast alike and teach the filthy mongrels not to stick their fingers in our honey pot!”
“It looks like this is it,” Godwin said to Robert. “Are you ready?”
Robert was wearing a face quite unlike any Godwin has seen before. His eyes glistened with quiet rage, and there was not a joyous wrinkle to be seen on him. He slid one blade down the other letting the metallic hiss resonate through the air. “I’m ready.”
It began.
The fight was not a triumphant clashing of great forces. Godwin had seen those battles. Bloody affairs with so many screaming bodies hacked to shreds or bludgeoned to pulps that it was impossible to either take in the totality of the chaos or have your focus captured by any specific incident for long. This was the other kind. The kind where men clumsily and fearfully moved towards each other, and cautious blows churned into a steady boil of death.
With Robert by his side, the Shigata proceeded slowly. He knew a clumsy move would end him. His arm was already protesting against the weight of the Darksword. Once he stared swinging it, he knew it would be screaming in agony.
“Die, cur!” Robert shouted, skewering a sun warrior with both blades.
Godwin was once more surprised at his comrade’s behavior. It seemed they had switched roles. Where Godwin was content to fall back, dodge more than strike, and only engage when he had no other choice, Robert was in the raging heart of his fury. He slashed a man across the neck sending a rainbow of blood through the air and without stopping twirled his body like a dancer and landed his next blow deep into the side of a sun warriors armor. The sun warrior squealed while trying to pry himself off the blade, but before he could Robert’s second strike sent his head spiraling into the dirt.
“Onward!” the Tarsurian cried. It was all Godwin could do to stumble after him, hacking and slicing as he went in an effort to keep up.
The Darksword kept the Shigata moving as much as his own legs did. The blade’s runes pulsed wickedly, seething in the thick of dying men. He could feel the dark magic of the Haellaetic blade driving him onward, urging him to ignore his pain and give in to the intoxicating bliss of battle lust. The longer he fought, the more it succeeded until eventually the Shigata and his Tarsurian companion were a tornado of death flying around each other like hornets stabbing at anything that dared to get close.
In the midst of that chaos, Godwin soon brought his sword down on something that it did not sink into. Leaping backwards, he realized that what he struck was no soldier, but a massive reptile covered in black armor. It galloped forward, knocking the air from his lungs with its forward legs, and hissed.
“What the fuck is that?” he heard someone scream.
Wasting no time as it struck again, Godwin rolled sideways to avoid its snakelike head, and leapt to his feet. As soon as he touched the ground, a jet of flames blasted from its cavernous mouth threatening to cook the Shigata where he stood.
Godwin would have been roasted had Robert not knocked him out of the way at the last second. They collided on the ground together, a tangle of battered limbs. “Bloody hell,” Godwin grumbled. As Robert rose, he watched with disgust as the lizard gripped one of the wolves by the neck. The soldier screamed silently as it thrust him back and forth before a final sickening crunch ended it and showered the area in hot blood.
“Godwin!” Robert shouted. The two men faced the beast. Sun warriors stood behind it, grinning maniacally while it snapped its jaws and licked the blood from its lipless face.
Godwin could feel the tension rising in his head as he faced off with the demon. Its hide was like hardened steel, and the Tarsurians had doubled down on that by crafting heavy plate armor for it. He stared the creature in its dead eyes. It was as if it couldn’t even see him. A forked tongue crept out, lingering in the air like a serpent.
It smells with its tongue, Godwin realized.
The demon came at him again, only this time Godwin was ready. He swung his body left and relying on the instincts of the Darksword sent a hacking blow down into the bare flesh of its face. It hissed and darted backwards. Godwin knew the blast was coming when it opened its gaping mouth, but before the fire could erupt from it, Robert’s swords pierced through its gullet.
“Take that!” he screamed triumphantly.
Robert didn’t have time to enjoy his victory over the creature. At once, a group of Tarsurians descended on him. Godwin was by his side in an instant. Ignoring the heaviness in his limbs, he hacked through the arm of the first one to raise his sword to Robert. Spearing past him, his ally sent a series of hacking blows into the next closest enemy. A final challenger braced himself, but against Godwin and Robert charging together, he had no hope.
As the last immediate foe’s blood poured onto the ground, the two took a moment to regain their breath. “Splendidly done!” Robert roared. There was a look of delirious fury etched across his face. Under normal circumstances it would have worried Godwin, but right then he felt nothing but relief. He had known Robert could fight, though he certainly preferred not to. This was different. The spirit of battle had taken hold of the Tarsurian, and he was showing a side Godwin had never seen before.
“Great gods in heaven! Look at that!” a voice called through the chaos.
There was a scramble and screaming. Godwin felt his heart thumping in his chest like a hammer. “How?” he whispered.
Tearing through the men like something out of his worst nightmare, Godwin saw Jane in demon form snarling with her mutilated face and dripping blood from her claws. One of Boldfrost’s wolves, frozen by the sight of her, had his face shredded by her dagger-like fingers.
“Damn it all to hell,” Godwin grumbled. Just when they were starting to turn the tide. Jane had clearly taken a side in this fight, and the wolves were her enemy.
“We’re all dead if nobody stops her,” Godwin said. “I need to finish her before she does too much damage.”
“Let me help,” Robert said at once. His eyes were balls of fire.
“No,” Godwin said. “This calls for a Shigata. If you want to help, just keep the Tarsurians away from me while I handle her.”
“But—”
“Now!” Godwin shouted.
He strode forward into the heart of the fighting as the rain started. The sun had fallen away, hidden completely by a thick layer of dark clouds. Smiling, he wondered if he had seen it for the last time. He was watching Jane, with all of her terrible deformity, but for some reason it was another face he saw in his mind’s eye. A kinder face. One that made him feel as though he weren’t in the battle at all. Selena.
Jane saw him and halted in her tracks. Feverish yellow eyes widened as her piggish nostrils flared.
Godwin’s voice sounded hollow as he spoke.
“Hello Jane.”
Jane snarled. Saliva like acid dripped from her teeth and burned the ground by her bare feet. The Shigata knew at once what he had to do. There would be no hope of defeating this enemy as he was. He had tried once in far better health and failed. If victory were possible, he would not squander it by testing the waters and dying like a fool. He would need to use the most powerful potion he could concoct to kill her. Actually, he would need something far more powerful than one he could concoct.
But thanks to a sorcerer he once killed, he had just such a thing.
Yegvellen’s liquid uranium was hidden carefully under his left bracer. He slid the vial out and uncorke
d it.
Jane watched him curiously, sniffing the air as if she could sense the danger. Yes, a danger to you Jane. But not just to you. Will I survive if I use this foul substance again? I really cannot say. I’m certain it will have some lasting effects at the least. But when I was training with the Sages, I was taught that sometimes you just have to do what you can to defeat the enemy in front of you and not worry too much about the future.
The surrounding battle had blurred into a vague distortion of dark colors and muffled sounds. His focus was entirely on the demon that stood before him. “I was supposed to cure you,” he said to her. He only realized afterwards that he was apologizing. “But I’ve failed in that. There will be no more humanity for you.”
Jane snarled and falling to all fours charged him.
Godwin dumped the contents of the vial onto his silver thrygta. Just like last time.
Just like last time, he screamed.
A turbulent hell bubbled inside of Godwin’s body. Electric pain surged through every nerve, every synapse, every last bit of biological wiring. Wondering if he may have misunderstood the effects of Yegvellen’s secret chemistry experiment, Godwin realized that he may have just accidentally killed himself.
The Shigata’s vision evaporated as radioactive heat washed over his body, transporting him from the field of battle to a hell of the most unimaginable horrors. Nausea crashed into him like turbulent ocean waves, and he felt as though he were coming undone at the cellular level.
Then a new feeling came.
The pain was still there, but there was something more. A burning anger and a strength alongside it. Pain evaporated as rage took its place. Godwin’s vision returned, but the world looked very different. Jane stood before him hissing like a snake. The rest of the world was a blur of irrelevance. In his hand the Darksword was a fireball, its runes glowing not with the usual forge-glow red, but hot white.
The Shigata leapt forward. The Darksword slashed with deadly intent. Jane was still supernaturally fast. She twisted and dodged, but Godwin was fast too. He saw a handful of dagger-like claws coming for his neck and lifted his blade to defend himself before it could land.
Jane shrieked as obsidian-colored steel met her hand. Leaping backwards, black puss dripped from her wound to the ground. The head of a Tarsurian was next to her. It was only after the fact that Godwin realized he had severed it without realizing while slashing at the demon. That was the fool’s own fault. Puppies should not interfere with the fight of lions.
Jane wasted no time tending to her bloody hand. Using her good arm, she scooped a heap of mud from the ground. In her palm, it flashed red before she launched it. This time Godwin wasn’t fast enough. It slammed hard into his sword arm, not far from where he had been injured the first time. The Shigata felt nothing more than a bee sting. He needn’t worry about such inconsequential foolishness.
The demon shrieked, perhaps surprised. Something touched Godwin’s arm. Turning furious, the Shigata prepared to strike when he saw not another blur, but a face he recognized. An oiled mustache. Worried Tarsurian eyes.
“Godwin! What have you done?”
In a flash of sanity, Godwin recognized his friend. Pain seared across him as his injuries became apparent, but not sooner had he felt them did they fade away. What was Robert doing? He did not belong there.
Still, Godwin’s Tarsurian ally stood in front of him, his double-swords raised. “Get back!” he shouted. “I will finish her.”
Confusion swirled inside of Godwin’s head. Pain, fear, murderous rage, they all danced inside of him. But one thought broke through stronger than all the others. It was what mattered the most in that moment. “Get back you idiot!” Godwin shouted. “She’ll kill you in an instant.”
“I don’t care!” Robert shouted back. He charged.
Godwin could only watch in horror. His feet were as heavy as lead.
Shouting a war cry, Robert leapt forward in a moment of insanity and slashed at the demon. Jane danced backwards, snarling, and dodged every blow. Godwin felt like a ghost. Like he was watching invisibly. It was impossible to move. To think. He was nothing but a set of eyes.
At Robert’s first pause for recovery, Jane went on the offensive. Vicious claws slashed through the air, sending Robert reeling backwards. Godwin’s heart was in his throat. He could do nothing. Robert cried as the first of the demon’s blows made contact. Ribbons of blood swept through the air while he screamed.
The Tarsurian did not fall. Regaining his balance, he managed to steady his feet and dodge the next attack that would have removed his windpipe. Jane fell on him. A fearsome blow came downwards towards Robert’s head. He caught it with his left sword. Jane swept at him with her free hand, perhaps instinctively, but paused as the crippled ruin of what the Darksword had left her proved useless.
“Now!” Godwin yelled. It was a heroic opening. One that would not come to the Tarsurian again. The only chance.
Robert hesitated.
Whether fear or fatigue stayed his hand, his opportunity to end the fight vanished. Shrieking, Jane disentangled her blocked hand from his sword, and brought it down viciously across his face.
Godwin’s heart fell from his throat to his feet. Robert crumpled in a twisted cascade of bloody silence, his face a ruin.
Whatever tether had Godwin rooted to the ground vanished instantly. The Shigata flew like an arrow, no longer Godwin of Brentos, but the Odruri. The Darksword’s metallic whistle sung through the air, followed by Jane’s severed head.
It was over.
All around the battle remained an obscure bloodbath. Tarsurian or wolf, Godwin no longer cared who won. Crawling on his knees he approached his friend’s body. His stomach roiled at what he saw. Vomit and tears mingled on the ground. He was close to losing consciousness. Just like last time, the effects of Yegvellen’s potion were intensely draining.
“What are you doing?” a voice that made Godwin’s blood turn cold boomed. No. Not you. Anyone but you. How?
“Disgraceful. I knew you would amount to as much when you left me. I should have left you to the wolves.”
Godwin blinked, hoping that what he was seeing would prove some kind of crazed hallucination. But regardless of his wishes, the figure before him had not changed.
Even in the midst of a bloodbath, Reinko Assini was unmistakable.
Chapter 19
“You’ll hang for this if they catch you at it.”
Hot steam filled the air of the cavernous basement. It was accompanied by the cacophony of clanging metal from the forge hammers. Yaura watched disinterestedly as the volcanic glow of the steel swords lessened into a pale solferino that glimmered angrily in the hands of the blacksmiths.
She was in a secret forge underneath a tavern in the Skullgardens. A tavern known for its boisterous musicians that covered the sounds below with blaring horns and drums. Accompanying her were Monk Yelvin and his teenage nephew Steffon, who had taken an active role in the creation of that little hotbed of rebellion.
“They’ll try to hang us all sooner or later regardless,” Steffon said. “I’d rather have good steel in my hand when they do.”
Yelvin frowned. Yaura quickly realized that while the monk was clearly eager to undermine the government of Sylvester Shade however he could, he was less enthusiastic about involving his own blood. “Still, you needn’t come here every day,” Yelvin said. “The operation is set up and functional. Your presence here is just an unnecessary risk.”
“Uncle, these are our people. You remember when this forge was just an impossible fantasy running in my wild imagination. Look how far we’ve come in just one short year. Think where we might be one year later. Hell, one month later! If Jack is right and Valencia has been largely emptied of its soldiers, then we have an opportunity to forever shift the balance of power in this city so that Shade and his cronies won’t dare cross us again.”
If Jack is right. That is an ‘if’ of enormous consequence. I still haven’t heard a word o
ut of his mouth that makes me confident that he’s not leading us all right to the gallows. At least they had the good sense not to introduce him to this place. They’ve done an impressive job of keeping everything among their circle on a need to know basis. Which raises the question: why exactly do I need to know about this?
Yelvin sighed. Yaura recognized that look well. It was the face of an adult trying to set boundaries but having long ago given up on really enforcing them. She had seen it herself in her own time, when she was still just a girl.
“I must admit, this is rather impressive,” Yaura said as they strolled down the cobblestone path. “How the Bluecoats never noticed this is beyond me.”
Steffon snorted. “They see nothing more than what they want to see. In the eyes of the Bluecoats, we’re nothing but a pack of useless idiots. Well, they’ll learn soon enough.”
“Steffon,” Yelvin said sternly. “There is the fast and gratifying way to win our rights, and there’s the godly way. These weapons that you’re stockpiling, they are meant for defending our brothers and sisters and securing the streets of the Skullgardens. You haven’t got other thoughts into your head now, have you?”
Yaura did not miss the shadow that passed over Steffon’s face. “Uncle,” he said stiffly. “You also taught me that caution is a man’s best friend.”
“Quite right,” Yelvin agreed.
“A man’s best friend,” Steffon continued. “Until it’s time to strike. After that, there can be no second thoughts. Only action. Without the Bluecoats, Sylvester Shade is exposing his neck to us.”
“Indeed. If the Bluecoats are truly gone. Would you take this opportunity to make the Lord of Valencia regret ever presenting such a chance again?”
“I would take this opportunity to make sure that Sylvester Shade’s options are as limited as they could be,” Steffon said.
Sudden despair flashed across Yelvin’s face before he returned to his cool demeanor. It happened so quickly, in fact, that Yaura was quite certain that Steffon had never seen it at all. “You’ll learn, my boy,” the monk said sadly. “If you won’t have me as your teacher, the world will fill that role whether you like it or not.”
