by Vlada Asta
Sebastian remained neutral for the most part, but his voice trembled slightly on the last phrase. He wasn’t trying to appear better than he was, he truly believed his words. What a strange young man…
“You have strength, talent and brain,” Jeremiah said thoughtfully. “Each of these qualities is a blessing on its own, but they become a curse once put together. At least for someone who became a warrior. Freedom is a privilege you need to earn, and here you are already using it.”
“If earning it means ignoring my principles for years, I refuse to accept such reward. By the moment I get it, I will stop being myself.”
Time was passing, and he couldn’t make the decision. Jeremiah hated such situations, they interrupted with his inner confidence.
He saw a promising warrior in front of him, who could become great with years. Such soldiers were the blade of the sword protecting the humanity. At the same time, lack of humility was a poison eating a man from within, but few could realize that.
What could he do? Kill this boy and rob the city of a capable guardian? Or let him be, and then suffer if he becomes an inspiration for a mutiny?
The Cardinal remained silent, and Sebastian waited patiently. It was easy to tell he could spend hours standing like this. His endurance was a sign of wisdom that would develop in years. But so far, he wasn’t wise enough to follow the rules…
Jeremiah was looking for a verdict that wouldn’t give him a sleepless night of doubt and regret. And he had finally found it.
“Do you know how the pack got to the city?”
Sebastian was waiting for a different continuation, so he was puzzled for a moment, but got a hold of himself easily.
“No, Your Eminence, I know nothing about it.”
“And no-one does. According to the jaws we found there, it consisted of thirty beasts. Thirty! Do you realize what kind of pack it is?”
“I saw it firsthand during the battle.”
“Then you should know that it was too large to get here unnoticed. And yet, we received no warning from the control points. When the battle was over, our first action was to check the fortress in Toulouse. We were afraid that it had already been destroyed. Fortunately for us, the city remains unharmed, our people informed us everything was fine there. That pack didn’t pass through Toulouse.”
The information Jeremiah was giving this warrior was by all means secret. The streets were already full of fear, just because a whole pack managed to get past the defense of New Vatican. If people learned the means of their attack were unknown, that would lead to panic. Ignorance was one of the greatest dangers in that case.
“The Hente could’ve been breaking through the border in small groups and then they formed a pack by the walls of Barcelona,” Sebastian assumed.
“They could, but that would take a lot of time. So many beasts lived by our side, and we remained blind to it for weeks or even months? Unlikely. With that said, I personally know the warriors who guard Toulouse. They’re not stupid, careless or corrupted. They understand the importance of the mission they’ve been entrusted with. If they say the pack didn’t pass them, it has to be so.”
“But then how?...” the warrior started, but couldn’t finish his question.
The likes of him believed they knew this world. But the world usually found many ways to show them their true place.
“We don’t have any answers, but we need them as soon as possible. When something strange happens, the best way to go is to look for other unusual occurrences, so we started tracking the way from Toulouse to Barcelona, checking all the smaller control points. Point number 36 is not answering.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know that control point, Your Eminence.”
“It’s a small village that has long since been abandoned by its inhabitants,” Jeremiah explained. “It was used by our warriors to observe the roads. Point number 36 has never been considered important, it wasn’t to be rehabilitated as a residential area. Ten of our warriors guarded it all the time, and it was also used by traveling patrol groups for rest. Hente normally avoided such routes, you know that these creatures search for larger prey, and they couldn’t find it there. Nevertheless, that point is close to Barcelona. They contacted us yesterday at 6 am, but didn’t report anything suspicious. The connection has been lost since then.”
“Could that be attributed to technical problems?”
“If technical problems occur, messengers are usually sent to the nearest point to report about it. That’s the rule, and, unlike you, most warriors follow it. We have our reasons to believe that something happened at Point 36, and it’s connected to yesterday’s attack.”
“Your Eminence… why are you telling me this?” Sebastian asked quietly.
“Because someone has to go there to check things out. And it’s going to be you. I’ll provide you with four warriors and a car. This is going to be your first assignment as a commander. Let’s see if you’re ready for this!”
Sebastian wasn’t glad or shocked, because he didn’t take it for an honor. He immediately understood the huge risk connected to that assignment. Something totally new and dangerous could be hiding in that tiny village! And five men might not be enough to handle it…
There were only two options. Either there was nothing left in this village, and the group would come back unharmed, or something was waiting for them there, the secret of the pack’s sudden appearance… Then the chances were high that nobody was going to make it back alive.
That was the Cardinal’s final decision – a trial for the young warrior. To achieve the freedom he craved so much, he had to be a genius, not a mere talent. If Sebastian could succeed at such age, he was worthy of it.
And if he died there… well, that only meant he wasn’t so valuable for the humanity after all.
Chapter 2
Maximilian was happy to get this assignment – his very first mission as a warrior! Many of his peers were whispering about the dangers related to it, but he could only think about how important it was. He would get a chance to demonstrate his skills: he missed the battle by the city and regretted it. But now he’d get his chance!
He was also glad to be working with such a commander. Normally, Max was wary of the older warriors. They looked at the freshmen with disgust and answered every question through clenched teeth. They never missed a chance to humiliate their subordinates!
But Sebastian was different, only two years older than Max. It was his first mission as a commander, which gave them something in common. Max was hoping they would become friends. That would’ve been awesome, because people had talked a lot about Sebastian, in spite of his age. He was the best warrior of his generation, he saved someone’s life during the city attack and he even had the guts to break an order for it! Max’s imagination was drawing an unruly rebel, proud, with wild fire burning in his eyes.
But the real Sebastian turned out to be different. He reminded of a stone statue – cold and free of any emotions. He talked only when it was necessary and didn’t smile at all. That was probably the best strategy, since the other three warriors in the group were older than their commander, but it still freaked Max out.
For the mission they were provided with an armored car, a perfect means of transportation in such a case. An air trip would’ve taken less time, but it made too much noise for a secret mission. If there were Hente there, they would hear their approach an hour before they landed – and would have enough time for setting a trap. The car was fast, quiet and protected from monster attacks.
Brother Julian was driving. He was a couple of generations older, of noble origin and clearly showing he wasn’t happy to be here. From time to time he would try to drag Sebastian into a conflict, but failed miserably. The young commander was unswerving.
The rest of the group took their seats in the car. Brother Clode and Brother Richard were discussing something quietly, looking at the younger warriors. Brother Sebastian was sharpening the blade of his sword. Max pretended to observe the worl
d through a small window, while he was trying to watch his commander discreetly.
He had heard that Sebastian was using a special fighting technique, the one that required a lighter sword than the type normally used by soldiers. Now he could see those rumors were true: the commander was holding a shorter and thinner version of an average salt sword. There were small blades on both sides of the guard that could be used in a fight, while the pommel was replaced with a metal cross. The grip covered in black and white leather straps was of a strange size: too long for one hand, but too short for two hands. The blade was average – double-edged, with a filler for salt in the center of it.
“Saw something you like?” Sebastian asked without looking up.
Max averted his eyes, embarrassed – he was sure that he was careful enough not to get noticed! But it was probably naïve to spy on Sebastian: average warriors don’t get such reputation…
“Your sword, Sir… I haven’t seen that type before.”
“It’s a bastard sword,” the commander explained calmly. “The so-called one and a half grip. They’re part of our armor, but few warriors choose them. It’s not that effective during a fight if you don’t know how to use it.”
“But you seem to like it…”
“I do. It weighs less than three and a half pounds, which gives me a chance to move faster.”
That difference was impressive… The sword Max normally used weighed more than four and a half pounds and was much longer. However…
“I thought two-handed swords were a standard to us all!”
“For the majority,” Sebastian nodded. “The flesh of Hente is very solid, you need a powerful blade to cut through it. But we must keep in mind that Hente are killed not by the wound itself, but by the salt in it. My sword allows me to make many shallow cuts in the time a two-handed sword would make a single deep cut. My result is usually more efficient.”
“Freshman tale,” Clode smirked. “Why bother with all the cutting if a single blow is enough?”
“In one on one battle it is truly not necessary. But a lighter sword is useful if you get surrounded.”
“Surrounded by whom?” Richard asked in amusement. “A couple of Hente is the most we can see on the peninsula. Usually a whole squad is sent to deal with one Hente. Just one! So your sword dancing is all but useless.”
They were trying to offend him, make him lose his cool. They wanted Sebastian to show he was just a boy, still too young to lead a squad. That didn’t mean they would ignore him on the mission – it was a direct order from the Cardinal, and they would obey. But so far they were letting out their frustration on him.
Sebastian wasn’t going to fall for that.
“The battle by the city showed that the border can be broken by a large pack.”
“It was a sole accident, it won’t repeat!”
“Let’s hope for that.”
Max was starting to see why the warriors from his generation admired Sebastian so much. But he didn’t like the atmosphere of hostility hanging in the air, so he changed the topic:
“I could never understand why we need those blades to begin with! I mean, there are bullets and rockets…”
“And there’s the result we’re trying to achieve!” Clode laughed. “Have you visited the Seminary at all, newbie?”
“Refrain from using such terms,” Sebastian told him. His voice was even, but there was something in his eyes that made the older warrior fall silent. “Every warrior faces those questions, I had them too. When you first see a Hente, it’s only logical to think – why should I let this monster close to me? Why can’t we shoot them from a safe distance? We’ve got guns! But then you realize it’s a sad necessity.”
“It’s all about salt,” Richard added. “The load of salt you can put in a bullet is strictly limited. Strangely enough, a direct hit by a salt bullet would harm a Hente less than a shallow cut with a sword. Besides, the shot itself warms the bullet up too much, and the salt in it may partly evaporate. A situation like this may cost a warrior his life. As for the missiles, making a salt load that wouldn’t blow up before the set time is very hard, and it costs a lot. Thus salt missiles are used only to destroy an abnormally large Hente or packs of those things. The advantages of cold weapons hide in their name – cold. Salt solution doesn’t evaporate, you can calculate the amount of it easily, and you know how much of it you need to kill your enemy.”
Clode took out one of the throwing knives and looked at it thoughtfully.
“This piece of metal contains a perfect doze of salt, enough to kill a large Hente. One hit is enough! A small one would fall into pieces in seconds from it. And your bullets? You’d be firing that gun like an idiot while your enemy eats your guts!”
“I didn’t say anything about throwing knives!” Max tried to keep some dignity. He didn’t expect that his question would make him look so stupid! “I was talking about swords!”
“Don’t be shy of your questions,” Sebastian advised him. “While you are training, it’s easy to assume that the sword is too heavy and a gun is so convenient. But only during the battle you can feel that nothing compares to a sword. You and your sword become a single creature there, and while you have it, you’re not helpless.”
“As long as you have your salt cartridges!” Clode noted sarcastically. “But once they’re empty, your sword is nothing but a useless piece of metal!”
“It’s not,” Sebastian argued, looked into his eyes for the first time. “Even when the salt is gone, you can use your sword to end your own life before Hente get to you.”
Max winced at that, he didn’t want to think about such possibilities. They always took a lot of spare cartridges with them, so there was no reason to worry.
A cartridge was put inside the filler in the sword. Under pressure it would cover the edge with oily solution with a lot of salt in it. The solution enclosed the blade completely, infecting the Hente’s wound after the cut was made.
It was very convenient – if one didn’t forget to watch the cartridge. But Sebastian’s words about a warrior ending his life with his own sword made Max feel uneasy. In the past years the warriors rarely died during the missions, that was mentioned more than once at the Seminary. Their job seemed to be a privilege with no risk involved!
Nine warriors died during the clash by the city walls. The illusions of safety were melting.
Sebastian stopped cleaning his sword and put the weapon back into the sheath. Max decided he should try fighting with a bastard sword when he returned to his training. Sebastian’s example was truly inspiring…
But right now he could only check his own weapons. His longsword was very sharp – because it had never been used in a fight before. Max usually kept the sheath on his side, but now he had to put it on his back, with throwing knives and daggers on his belt. Some warriors brought crossbows with them, but Max didn’t use such weapons. In any case, each soldier had to carry at least ten pounds of weight – which made thinking about bullets even more tempting.
Sitting in the car with a sword on his back was uncomfortable, so he put the sheath beside his chair. Max touched the grip, tracing his fingers across the red leather covering it. He had imagined his first fight with Hente a million times, but now that it was actually coming, he didn’t feel prepared.
Sebastian noticed his condition:
“You’re too tense. There might not be any Hente there, even if they used that route.”
“I know, Sir. It’s just… important to me.”
“The first mission is important to any warrior. And stop calling me Sir. We’ll get there, gather the intelligence and go back. It’s a good first assignment.”
Max nodded nervously. He knew the commander was right. Hente had left this place, why would they stay in an empty village? But even if some of them were still there, who would let them attack a freshman? The other warriors would stay by his side, they were strong and experienced. That was why he was sent here – nobody died on their first mission!
/>
But no matter how many times Max repeated that, he still felt horrible. His mind couldn’t stop the fear from spreading through his soul. He desperately wanted to go home.
***
The village seemed completely harmless. The weather was sunny that day, and warm yellow beams were sliding over the roof tiles covered in moss. The tops of two towers could be seen from afar, indicating the place of the main temple. It was easy to tell that the village had been abandoned, but it didn’t have any creepy atmosphere to it. It was quiet and peaceful, with grasshoppers rattling in tall grass.
However, it was obvious that the pack had been here. Their footprints remained in the dust of the road – it hadn’t rained since that day. They seemed to have passed the village, heading for Barcelona. But it wasn’t clear how they got here, so it was too early to leave.
Sebastian would’ve gladly come here alone. He wasn’t scared of such solitude, and he would choose it over risking other people’s lives. But that wasn’t an option, he had to play his part till the very end.
He knew that the warriors in his group were outraged over such appointment. He didn’t care. Each squad was formed especially for the mission given, so his chances of working with them again were rather low. Besides, age apart, he was actually the most experienced warrior in the group.
Maximilian was fresh out of the Seminary, he had little idea of what awaited them. He was loyal and full of enthusiasm, which didn’t make him a better fighter. Clode and Richard were used to guarding the city, but that was different from field missions. Julian had participated in the hunt before. Unfortunately, Sebastian had heard a lot about this soldier – and none of those stories were in Julian’s favor.
