The Drachma Killers (The Last Warrior of Unigaea Book 2)

by Harmon Cooper

  We creep to the edge of the clearing and I press through the tall grass on its outer perimeter. I see now there are ten witches tossed in a pile outside an encampment. They’ve been mutilated, and by the screams I can suddenly hear, a few are still being tortured.

  It’s what I see next that makes my blood run cold.

  A Stater soldier perched on a black Shire horse circles around the stack of bodies.

  What is a Stater soldier doing on a black Shire horse?

  Shire Horses are almost exclusively used by the Tagvornins and other inhabitants of the Rune Lands. Stater is far south in the Pesata Keys, just about as far away as one can get from the north.

  I press back into the shadows provided by the trees. With a subtle movement of my finger, my dashboard comes up.

  A few hours until night.

  Whatever is happening, I’d be stupid not to stick around to figure out what’s going on.

  (^_^)

  I keep my eye on the campsite as the sun sets in the crimson sky. It’s been a few hours now, and the mud covering my body has long since dried. Wolf rests near me, occasionally snapping his teeth at a particularly bothersome fly.

  “Shhhh … ” I tell him as two men approach the mangled stack of witches. They throw another on the pile and the sound is sickening. The two wear Stater armor, similar to what I have on but poorer quality.

  Something isn’t right here.

  The men cackle and move back to the front of the camp.

  Over the past few hours, I’ve thought about sneaking around to the front and using the foliage as my disguise, yet a nagging little voice at the back of my head keeps telling me to stay put, that I’d be better off not bringing any attention to myself.

  So that’s what I’ve done.

  Wolf scoots closer to me and lays his head out. He looks up at me with his puppy eyes in a way that tells me he wants to be petted. I drop my hand onto his head and scratch behind his favorite ear. After a moment of this, he starts to lick my hand.

  “I’ll just sneak up there, take a peek, and then you and I will get to the coast,” I tell him. “We can camp out there and hit Tin Ingot in the morning.”

  I smile at him. If I have my choice of sleeping in the woods or on the beach, I always choose the beach. There’s less ground to cover in terms of enemies, and I love listening to the sound of the waves.

  “Cool?”

  Wolf bats his eyes at me.

  “Okay, I’ll take that as a yes.”

  About thirty minutes later, I move forward towards the encampment, creeping as low to the ground as I can while keeping to the shadows. The mud covering my skin has started to crack, and in retrospect there really was no reason for me to smear it on. There was absolutely no one on patrol.

  I stop near the stack of bodies. A wave of terror rolls through me as one of the witches’ eyes opens and locks onto me.

  A green light behind her eye flashes and fades as she slumps her head forward.

  “Fuck,” I whisper on an exhale.

  Something moves past me, and I turn to see Wolf creeping along. I’m just about to silently reprimand him when he looks at me, gives me a head nod, and continues to the right.

  “All right, smart ass,” I say under my breath as I follow him.

  A blazing fire ahead spits glittering sparks into the night sky. The men – I still don’t know how many there are – have likely gathered around the fire for supper, providing Wolf and me the perfect opportunity to see what it is they’re up to.

  Not that I’m opposed to clearing out these woods, I just don’t see Stater soldiers being assigned to do the task, especially since they are currently trying to win the southern Unigaeans over. Some of these witches are popular shamans; people travel all the way from Scudo to seek their guidance, so this definitely isn’t a public relations campaign, and if it is, it’s an example of what not to do.

  The only scent in the air comes from the fire, as the wind has now turned the smoke my way.

  A couple of crates have been stacked near a covered wagon. Once I’m sure no one is looking, I bolt over to the crates and duck behind them. Wolf joins me seconds later. He extends his neck out, checks to see that I’m clear, and nods me forward.

  “Um, okay,” I whisper, still not sure how I feel about stacking my pup’s MIND attribute.

  Keeping as low to the ground as possible, and careful not to disturb the horses at the front of the wagon, I move from the crates to the back wheel. Once I’m sure the coast is clear, I quietly place my hands on the back ledge of the wagon and lift myself into it.

  I gasp. The crackling flames of the campfire and the dark crimson sky provide just enough light that I can get a sense of what’s in the wagon. I move further back into the wagon to check more of the contents.

  “Impossible … ” I whisper as I lift a chest plate and turn it over in my hands.

  Why would a group of Stater soldiers be carrying around Tagvornin armor?

  I hear the yip and bark of dogs in the distance. My hair stands on end.

  Wolf’s eyes fill with fear as he glances from the north back to me. He keeps looking back and forth, and I swear he nods in a way that screams, “Get over here now!”

  Don’t need to ask me twice.

  I climb out of the wagon, and after checking to make sure the coast is clear, I roll over to him.

  Not a moment too soon, either. A Stater soldier riding a Tagvornin wolf – What in the actual fuck!? – careens through the camp, his dog barking as the rider waves a morning star over his head.

  Of course, his Tagvornin beast spots me in a matter of moments.

  I just barely manage to pull myself onto Wolf and take off.

  “Come on!” We sprint towards the northwest, Wolf’s paws cutting through the high grass.

  “Faster, faster, faster … ” I say as I hear the bark of several dogs behind us.

  The Stater soldier in charge shouts directions and the others fan out.

  Wolf rushes down the slope and hops to avoid a jagged rock. I press my body closer to his, inhaling his scent, feeling the warmth of his fur as he tears to the northwest.

  “That way!” I point to the west, towards a patch of tall grass.

  He breaks through the field of grass and arrives at a bustling stream. I can hear the bark of the Tagvornin wolves behind us. They snarl and snap their teeth as their riders shout.

  They’re gaining on us …

  I tilt my head up to see a thick-wooded area. “You’ll be faster without me,” I tell Wolf, hoping to hell he truly understands me. “I’ll jump off here, you go ahead and circle back around to get me. Lose them in the trees, dammit!”

  With that, I push off Wolf and roll to my side.

  He breaks into the tree line, and I quickly shimmy up the nearest tree trunk. I get to a good spot about twenty feet off the ground and catch my breath as the approaching enemies take off into the woods after Wolf.

  Come on, Wolf, lose them!

  The last Stater soldier holds back, letting the others pass. His wolf starts sniffing at the ground, making its way in my direction.

  Blood pulsating through my body, I equip my St. Lucia crossbow pistol and wait for the rider’s red outline to appear in my pane of vision.

  I need all the handicap I can get at the moment, and once a blue icon flashes over his head, I feel even better about my odds.

  [Stater Soldier, Level 9]

  [Tagvornin Wolf, Level 2]

  A Player Character, I think as he approaches me on his wolf. I steady my breath, settle my gaze on my striking point, and as his wolf comes to a halt ...

  There’s no way I’ll be able to land my shot from this angle.

  With no other option, my crossbow pistol dematerializes and I brandish my Splintered Sword.

  The sudden howl of other wolves in the distance chills my blood.

  As the Stater soldier’s wolf lifts its head from the ground up to the tree, I leap down and drive the hilt of my weapon onto the fro
nt of his helm.

  -79 HP! Critical hit!

  I drop onto the man and his wolf.

  Its rider out cold, the wolf gets its bearings and bares down, the hair on its neck bristling as saliva drips from its teeth.

  I swipe my Splintered Sword at the beast to let it know I mean business.

  As we circle one another, waiting for the other to strike, I get the overwhelming sense that the wolf knows full well it is more powerful than me.

  The wolf bends back, preparing to snap forward, and I charge the Tagvornin beast instead, bringing my blade inches away from its gnashing teeth. It growls and I pull back, my sword at the ready.

  This is going to be harder than I thought it would be.

  Out of the blue, Wolf charges forward and collides with the other Tagvornin canine.

  They’re equally sized, but Wolf is smarter, and this becomes evident as they break and the Tag immediately tries to come back in for an attack. Wolf goes up and brings his paws on his opponent's back, dragging the Tag to the ground and biting down onto its neck.

  His opponent yelps loudly and Wolf doubles down.

  Their tails whip as they try to overpower each other, but with Wolf’s leverage, he’s soon worn his opponent down enough for him to get the Tag onto its side and sink his teeth into its neck.

  Instakill!

  Wolf twists his head left and right, shaking the life out of the Tagvornin canine.

  Chapter Seven: Digital Psyops

  The Stater soldier I knocked out with the hilt of my sword stirs. I pull my fist back and coldcock him – -49 HP! – knocking him out again. From there I begin removing the bulkier part of his armor, just to cut down on the weight.

  As I remove the armor, I muse on the fact that a solid punch to the face at my current strength level takes just under fifty HP. I don’t have a future in boxing, but that was solid enough to put the Player Character back under while I finish removing his gear.

  So that’s something.

  Once I’ve lightened him of his armor, I use the rope the merchant gave me to tie his legs together, being sure to double-knot it so it doesn’t come loose.

  “This is going to hurt you more than it’s going to hurt me,” I tell him as I mount Wolf, the roped gripped tightly in hand. I loop it around Wolf’s chest and secure it in place. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  Wolf huffs and starts trotting north. I keep my eye on the rope, and just like the annoying merchant said it would, it holds strong.

  Wolf picks up his speed.

  I can hear the guy behind us slapping against the ground every time we hit a groove in the soil. It’s a ballsy move, I’m aware, but I’m feeling savage, especially after discovering what I’ve just discovered.

  Stater soldiers are disguising themselves as Tagvornins …

  I feel suddenly like I’ve been possessed, shocked that the aftermath of Sam’s death has led to a situation in which I feel the best way to take a captive is to tie him up and drag him behind us.

  This isn’t you, a voice in my head says as the guy comes alive.

  The soldier shrieks just as Wolf hits a bump. I look back just in time to see his head snap against a rock.

  “He’s not dead yet,” I say to Wolf once I’m sure he’s still alive. “Faster.”

  The howl of the other Tags in the background tells me they are further away than I thought they’d be. I really don’t know what I thought, to be honest. I’m surprised Wolf was able to get them off his scent so quickly.

  The Obelisk, I think as we continue towards the north, curving in a westerly direction so we’ll eventually hit the coast. That’s how, but why would she intervene in my follies?

  I swallow shame just as the man behind us yells.

  “Please!” he shouts. “Shit!” I ignore his cries as Wolf barrels down a small hillock, the Stater soldier’s body bouncing up and down.

  Fwwip!

  We hit a flat swath of land and a crossbow bolt flies over my head. I glance back to see the soldier reloading his weapon.

  “Faster!” Wolf picks up his speed, forcing the man to lose his crossbow pistol.

  We blaze through a patchy field and down another steep slope, our path lit by the pale crimson moon. It’s only once we go down a few more hills that I tell Wolf to slow.

  I hop off, my Splintered Sword in hand.

  “I’ll make this quick,” I tell the Stater soldier as I approach him. Again, a blue icon flashes over his head, a Player Character.

  “You fucking dragged me a … a mile!? Asshole! How the hell am I still alive!?”

  A healing potion appears in his hand and he chugs it. His wounds heal up instantly, aside from the bolt jutting out of his chest.

  Note to self – tie hands next time.

  “At least give me a weapon,” he grits. “Face me like a man!”

  Wolf gnashes his teeth as he circles the man.

  “You think I’m scared of a Tagvornin Wolf? Ha! I have one … ” Confusion sets across his face. “You killed it!”

  “You catch on quick.”

  He spits in my direction. “Bring it, motherfucker!”

  I grab the rope and yank it towards me to remind him who is in charge. He sits up and as he does, I come forward and swing my blade at his hand, cutting it off at the wrist.

  -242 HP! Critical hit!

  “Fuck!” He grabs his wrist with his other hand, blood squirting out onto his face. He starts sobbing, tries to steel himself, shits himself by the smell of it, and chokes back more sobs as he nurses the bloody stump.

  I bring the three prongs of my Splintered Sword under his chin and raise his head to meet mine. “Tell me what I need to know and I’ll make this quick.”

  “Fine!” he sobs. “Ask me whatever! I just want to log out!”

  “Relax,” I tell him, my sword under his chin, “and this will all be over soon. Let’s start here: Why are Stater soldiers traveling with Tagvornin armor and riding wolves?”

  He grins, his teeth awash with blood. “It’s all part of his plan; it’ll work, too! Florin Talonas is a fucking genius!”

  I feel a sinking sensation in my chest, my suspicions confirmed. “So this has something to do with Governor Talonas?”

  He starts to make a wisecrack, looks at his bleeding wrist, and thinks otherwise. “You’d better heal me soon,” he says, his voice suddenly woozy, “or I’ll just fucking die right here.”

  “Fine. Next question: Do you know about a group of Stater soldiers disguised as Tagvornins who were supposed to raid a bandits’ hut last night?”

  He blinks slowly, his strength fading fast. He even lowers his head some, so his chin now rests in one of the grooves of my Splintered Sword.

  “Do it,” he growls.

  A sudden flashback reminds me of a time not so long ago when I said the very same thing to another Player Character. My, how the tables have turned.

  “Yes or no?”

  “Yes,” he says, blood dribbling over his lips. “And they didn’t come back.”

  I press my blade forward and drive it into his neck.

  Instakill!

  Infamy +1!

  I wipe my blade on the grass and when that doesn’t do the trick, I find a clean spot on his undershirt and finish cleaning my weapon. It goes back in the sheath on my back and I walk over to Wolf.

  “To the coast,” I tell him half-heartedly.

  (^_^)

  The future is an open wound that has as much a chance of healing as it does metastasizing. The blur that is my night becomes the blur that is my life. My thoughts wrap around what the Stater soldier said, my brutality towards him, what all this may mean, and what lies ahead.

  Wolf and I arrive at the coast and he drops onto the sand, exhausted. The sound of the rolling waves relaxes me as I stare out at the water, my hands crossed behind my back.

  Stater soldiers dressed as Tagvornins attacked us last night, which means Governor Talonas must have known about it.

  I know this
is true; I remember the way they fought, different from the free-for-all nature of the Tagvornins.

  They killed Sam.

  Thinking back, I try to remember how they fought at the Battle for Tangka. Were those Tagvornins really Stater soldiers in disguise? Did Florin Talonas send his own men dressed as the enemy to occupy a city, only to then liberate it?

  He’s trying to consolidate power, a voice says in the back of my head, and to do so, he’s using his own soldiers as enemies to make a push for war.

  Psychological warfare is nothing new. Talonas, a Reborn Player Character, would be familiar with the myriad of ways one can start a war and get his people, and those he is choosing to protect, to rally behind him.

  Alexander the Great would have his weaponsmiths create “giant armor,” big enough for an eight-foot-tall man. His army would then attack a portion of a city at night and leave some of this armor behind, spreading terror through the village the next morning.

  Giants came last night! Look at the armor they left!

  The Mongols did it by sending demands forward to the next settlement, promising utter annihilation if they weren’t met. The ones that were foolish enough to not follow the Khan’s demands were slaughtered, the news of their slaughter reaching other villages and forcing instant capitulation. Khan would also order his troops to ride through dust fields, back and forth, kicking up enough sand to make an intimidating cloud visible from miles away.

  Really scare them.

  No century has passed without psyops, and the art of using jingoism and confusion to literally make war has only grown in cleverness. Operation Himmler, Shock and Awe, armed propaganda teams, the Art of Warfare, the list goes on.

  And if warfare is indeed centered on deception, then Governor Talonas is pulling the wool over the eyes of the all the southerners of Unigaea with his message of hope, his call to fight the Tags, and his eagerness to help rebuild cities such as Tangka.

  The meteor shower, I think as I make my way to the sea. Could he be responsible for that as well?

  Wolf is several paces behind me, anxiously watching me approach. “You know you can breathe underwater, right?” I call over my shoulder.

  I drop to my knees, feeling the soft sand give way to my weight. The water rolls towards me and I dip my hands in it, wiping the dried mud from my face.