by David Oliver
Ella, Rikol and I each picked up a sword, the other two also taking shields. I shrugged off the idea of defence - I was feeling vengeful and broken, a warring rage of emotions within me and a shield did not fit into that mindset. Adronicus would have called me a young, emotion filled fool before slapping me around the head - and he would have been right to do so. Either way I buckled a sword onto my hip and continued forward, great axe in hand. Rikol and Ella followed closely behind, weapons hanging loosely but ready to move at a moment’s notice.
Once we moved past the gate, bodies started to become more sporadic. Instead of seeing shield maidens and the bodies of fighting men in their prime we began to see the corpses of women laying over their dead children, old men hacked down in their homes. As we moved into the second alley a scream came from above us on the second floor of a solidly built wooden structure. Quickly I dashed inside, darting through the shattered door and leaping over the filleted body of an older man who had died defending it. I sped upstairs and with greataxe in hand spun amongst the three men who were approaching a heavily pregnant woman attempting to hold them off with a sword. One spin was all it took, the force of my blow shearing through armour and blades alike. It took the two lower men through the chest and the man closest to the woman through the spine, neatly shearing each body in two in a bloody swathe of gore.
Wiping my face I moved forward and found myself with a sword pointed at my chest.
“Back off Calidan,” ordered Ella as she and Rikol caught up, eyes widening at the dripping walls. “You don’t look like the friendliest of men right now.” I looked down at myself and noticed that my clothing was sodden with blood and nodded, letting Ella walk past, hands in the air.
“We aren’t going to hurt you,” Ella said, trying the Andurran language. “Can you understand me?”
A burst of language came from the woman’s mouth, certainly not Andurran but making Ella and I lock eyes in amazement.
Switching languages fluidly, Ella spoke again and this time the woman reacted, eyes widening before speaking, “Ah so you speak Meredothian, excellent. I am Beonica, First Shield of Rathnor. I thank you for your aid.” She gave us an appraising look. “Who are you?
“We come from the Andurran Empire,” Ella responded, “and are out here for a test of survival.”
“Survival? Well your examiners must want you dead. None come to this land if they can help it.” She kicked the corpse of the man next to her. “War is often the least of our concerns.”
Rikol had been following our exchange with growing consternation. Finally he interrupted - bursting into conversation in Andurran, “Why do I feel like I’m being left out here? What language are you speaking?”
I turned to him and clapped him on the shoulder. “Sorry Rikol, I forgot you didn’t know it. It’s the language that an old friend of mine taught Cassius and myself, and then Ella when we got to Forgoth.”
“When you got to Forgoth? That means…” his eyes widened, “the Tracker?”
I nodded. Somehow we had ended up close to where the Tracker came from. A land that he hadn’t revealed much about, only that it was cold and filled with danger. Looking around I realised that he may have been understating that simple statement somewhat.
“Yes, the Tracker” said Ella. “Now let’s find out what’s going on and make sure that we survive this mess.” She turned back to Beonica and spoke rapidly in fluent Meredothian.
Beonica nodded. “Yes these men have been an enemy for a long time, but never more than raiding parties. They are known locally as the Hrudan. Recently they have been more and more aggressive, pushing further into our lands than ever before. We’ve been alert since one of our trade routes ceased functioning.”
“Ceased functioning?” asked Rikol as Ella translated.
“Trade just stopped coming through,” Beonica replied. “Several scouts and war bands have gone out to investigate but none have returned. Since then we have had a watch through the night. Luckily they managed to catch this lot,” she kicked the corpse again, “approaching. But they still broke through.”
“At a heavy cost from the looks of it,” I murmured, to which Beonica flashed a vicious grin.
“Yes, they will have paid a hefty price. But even so they seem to have more numbers than ever whilst each person we lose is another blow to our population.” She indicated the outside city with a wave of her hand, “What is happening out there tonight...it is likely this place will never recover, even if we drive the Hrudan off.”
“Well, we will save as many as we can,” said Ella, “and attempt to remove these Hrudan. Before we go, have you seen anyone similar to ourselves over the past few weeks? Either a boy, similar in height and age to Calidan,” she indicated me, “or a young woman, several years older than us with long blonde hair?”
Beonica brightened. “You speak of Cassius and Sophia! They have been indispensable since they arrived some fortnight ago. Cassius has been training some of the women in swordplay - our men still hold to the quaint idea that axes are better - and Sophia has been providing a masterclass in the bow. Where they are now I do not know, but it is likely that they were helping with the defence of the fort. Find them and give them my thanks for their help, and not just for today. They are excellent friends to our people.”
“We will Beonica,” Ella responded, a proud glimmer in her eyes, “find yourself somewhere safe to hold up.”
“Safe? If I were any less pregnant I would be out there showing you young pups how to properly kill a man! Get out of here you mysterious younglings!” with a grim chuckle she shooed us down the stairs before barring the door.
“A strange person,” Rikol said as we double checked our equipment and began to move back to the streets. “Not particularly saddened at the death around her.”
“I think she is sad, but they seem to be a tough people for whom death is a close friend, whether by fighting, starvation or predation,” Ella replied. “I imagine looking straight ahead is the best option at such times. Either way, Beonica is the First Shield. Looking at the number of bodies at the feet of the women in this fort I imagine that means that she would be a great person to have on our side, rather than as an enemy!”
With that we slipped out into the blood-soaked night.
Chapter 8
Warband
Blood spurted as Rikol caressed the man’s throat with his blade. A stifled gurgle wound its way from behind the hand he had placed over his mouth and then the man went limp. His prey, a girl barely into two digits of age, lay on the alley floor, naked and motionless, blood seeping from the wound on her head where the brute had hit her. Checking for a pulse Ella shook her head sadly before standing and moving on. In the past hour this had become a common occurrence. Bodies and corpses littered the road, some still warm enough for the attackers to be having their way. Only a few had we seen still alive, either bleeding enough to have been left behind, or being toyed with and wishing for death. Each time their tormentors fell, their focus on their fun giving them no indication that we were near before our blades hit home. We were as shadow, swirling through ash clouds and firelight and leaving only corpses in our wake.
Deliverers of retribution.
Leaving the girl in the alley we stepped out into the main street, our bodies bathed in the flickering light of the burning keep. Taking point, I expanded my senses and focused on the next axe wielding bastard. It had served well so far, fulfilling our need to unleash our vengeance on these marauding monsters. What I hadn’t yet managed to do however was locate either Cassius or Sophia. Several of the Hrudan bodies we had come across had been expertly filleted with sword or bow, but we had no way of knowing whether this was the work of our friends or the local defenders - after all they, like us, would be using local and scavenged equipment.
Sensing a group of men surrounding a building up the road I indicated my friends to follow. Together we slipped through the falling ash, unsheathed weapons in hand. As we rounded the corner I held up my h
and and we paused to scope out the lay of the land. A low-slung wooden longhouse lay besieged by seven Hrudan. A fire had been started at one end of the building and the seven men were waiting, three covering the exits and the other four spread out near the front door - allowing the smoke to do their work for them and drive the people inside to their waiting blades.
As we watched, one of the raiders passed in front of the open door, briefly silhouetted by the outside light. Instantly an arrow sped out of the building and embedded itself in the warrior’s throat. Gurgling and grasping futilely at the barbed shaft the man fell to his knees and slowly slumped sideways to the ground. The remaining three men watching the front door shouted in alarm and moved away from the open hatch. From the looks of the limbs lying in the doorway a frontal assault had already been attempted and been vehemently denied, explaining the approach that the men were taking.
With my senses open I could detect several figures inside the longhouse but the noise and smoke were impeding my ability to sense scent and listen - making it difficult to get a completely accurate picture. With a nod I indicated that it was time to see what was going on the old-fashioned way.
We moved.
Three daggers sped through the air, two flung by Rikol, the other by Ella. Each caught one of the rear watching men completely unaware and like puppets with cut strings they crumpled. With swiftness telling of years of experience in fighting for their lives the three men in front of the longhouse spun, axes to hand yet completely unprepared for my downward swing.
One slice, two halves. The first man fell.
To the remaining men’s’ eyes it must have been a surprising scene. A somewhat lanky youth dislodging a greataxe with uncanny ease from the split corpse of their comrade. To their credit, they didn’t falter in their charge, though whether that should be classed as bravery or stupidity I do not know. Ducking the first swing I spun, keeping my axe held solidly at my chest. The blade parted the leather jerkin of the first man before tearing through skin, flesh and bone. By the time the first man landed on the floor, right leg removed at the hip, the second was met with an ascending uppercut that caught the hilt of his weak attempt to parry, splintered its way through and entered his lower jaw.
I flicked the blood off the axe and waited for Rikol and Ella to join me at the side of the door as they collected their blades. Filling my lungs I spoke loudly, my voice reverberating through the air. “Your attackers are dead, we mean no harm - Beonica sent us,” first in Andurran, then in Meredothian.
A pause.
“Calidan?”
“Sophia?”
A shout of delight and some quickly spoken words and then Sophia emerged from the door, smoke curling around her form. As stunning as ever, she looked strong and lively, wearing figure fitting leather armour and carrying a beautiful ash bow. Tears trickled down her face as she walked and embraced me in a long hug.
“Perfect timing,” she whispered, kissing me on the cheek before turning to hug Rikol and Ella.
It had been a long time coming, but the dorm was nearly complete.
Once the hugs and celebrations were complete Sophia introduced us to the three other people who had emerged from the longhouse. Two women and one man, all three carrying bows. “Ryese, Llenya and Merkin,” Sophia spoke, indicating her companions, “they are what remains of my archery unit.”
“Archery unit?” Rikol questioned.
“Cassius and I got here together. We had found each other not too long upon waking in this place. That was a mindfuck as I imagine you know.” Nods all round. “So it wasn’t just us, that’s something,” she murmured.
“We reckon this is the fourth-year test,” said Ella.
“That’s what we reckoned too. Anyway I’ll keep this short, the streets aren’t safe and we need to find Cassius.” She took a brief drink from a water skin and sighed heartily. “We found this place and they were good to us, saw that we needed help. Cassius spoke the language - as I hear you and Ella do, Calidan - and we were allowed to stay in the fort. These people pride themselves on their fighting and hunting skills and once they saw what we could do we were each approached by numerous people. Calidan started teaching a core of sword wielders how to improve their skills and I began working with those who enjoyed the bow. Before last night I had twenty-two in my group...now I have three.”
“Have you seen Cassius since the fighting started?” Ella asked, tension in her voice.
“He was leading his unit with the defenders at the gate. If he wasn’t amongst the fallen then he will have beat a fighting retreat to the keep. We aimed to get there too but got cut off.”
I looked at the keep, grimacing at the fire lashing up the wooden walls. “Is there a fallback position past the keep?”
“Caves underneath the keep. One passage in and only wide enough to fit one man. If Cassius made it there then he could hold the passage for as long as he wanted. It’s one of the reasons why the First Shield has pushed learning the sword on her brethren, the passage is too narrow to effectively wield an axe.”
“That’s our destination then,” I confirmed and turned to her archers. “We go to rescue those in the keep, stay or come along - you decide.” As one they hefted their bows and fell in step.
A warband of seven to relieve a fallen fort. It would have to be enough.
Chapter 9
Differing Views II
Sophia
“Hone yourself into what you need to be to survive.”
Sophia opened her eyes and immediately shut them against the burning light. A thin layer of diabolical snow reflected the dazzling beams with a vengeance directly into her retinas. Gasping at the sudden attack she blinked rapidly and then forced herself to open her eyes again.
Snow? she thought sluggishly. Why am I outside? Her brain chose that moment to fire up properly and alarm bells rang as she rolled, looking for the twisted killer that had done so many terrible things to her friends. The needles of a fir tree stared back at her, a thin veil of protection against the elements in the small hollow she found herself. There was nothing else, no evil being, no torture chamber, nothing at all. In fact the only thing that her current situation held in common with the chamber was that she was still very much naked.
A gust of frigid wind caused her to shiver violently and she clutched her arms to herself, seeking any warmth that she could. It doesn’t matter why I am here or how, she thought through chattering teeth, I just need to get warm.
With that in mind she crawled out of her little hollow and scanned the horizon, looking for any tell-tale signs to identify where she was, or any elements of civilization. Except for frozen tundra and fir-lined forest she found little and she began to trudge towards the forest boundary before a small dark smudge on the horizon caught her eye. Smoke?
Locking the location in her mind she continued her walk towards the forest, figuring that she could follow its edge until she was forced to leave it to investigate the cause of the smoke. Having grown up in the Ryganthian steppes, her people were used to living off an otherwise hostile land and so she had little in the way of concerns for surviving in the short term. Indeed she welcomed the challenge, embracing it for the ability to lose herself in pure survival rather than in the haunting memories of her recent past.
Two days later she walked out of the edge of the forest clad in deer skin with a fox pelt that covered her shoulders and a makeshift bow held loosely at her side. It wouldn’t last too long once the wood began to dry out, but for the short term it provided relatively decent accuracy over a short distance. Put any of her clan in a survival situation and they would likely be looking to craft a bow before sourcing water. It was part of her heritage - she needed the feel of a bow in her hand - and it had already proven its worth, allowing her to snag the buck she now wore around her before it could bolt. With an easy lope she set out to investigate the source of the smoke that she had seen two days before. It was thicker here, easier to spot and relatively constant, meaning that it could o
nly come from a settlement. With any luck it would be a place where she would be able to find help and figure out where in the world she was.
✽✽✽
Cassius
“Hone yourself into what you need to be to survive.”
Cassius awoke to coarse laughter, the sound of it sending shivers through his body at the thought that the demon was back for more. He kept his eyes shut, knowing that opening them would just give him more bloody horrors to see, that the swaying of his body on the rope would just keep making him nauseous.
Wait. He wasn’t swaying. There was cold earth under his body. Opening his eyes to the blinding light above he found himself the subject of scrutiny. Two heavily built men stood above him, axes held in hand whilst laughing in astonishment. At first he wasn’t sure why but as the cold air began to send shivers down his spine he realised that he wasn’t wearing an inch of clothing. With a start he moved to cover himself up, in doing so causing the two to laugh even harder, but now the laughter had a menacing edge. Mirth at someone insane enough to be naked outside in what was apparently a snow filled tundra, but the laughter wasn’t a joyous sound, nor was it friendly.
Cassius eyed the two men warily as he slowly made to stand up. A burst of language came from one of the two, the man who had spoken looking at his companion and gesturing in Cassius’s direction, prompting another bout of laughter. The same man shook his head as if in disbelief and gripping the axe more tightly he took a step towards Cassius who raised his hands non-threateningly whilst moving back a step. He didn’t have a clue what was going on, but it was quickly becoming clear that he had moved from one hostile environment to another.
Another step and another step back. The man’s face grew hard now, the chuckle low and menacing. A third step and this time Cassius moved forwards instead of away, stepping into the man’s guard, one arm going to maintain control of the axe hand, the other jabbing straight knuckles into his opponent’s throat. A kick to the crotch as hands came up to scrabble at a damaged trachea and he stepped back, twisting the arm and driving the man to the floor, coming back up with the axe in hand, his eyes already on the second man who had barely moved in the moment it had taken Cassius to dismantle his colleague.
