by J. Thorn
Under the command of the Serpent King, Shane rode with a battalion into the aftermath on the southern front. It was easy for him and his force to clean up, riding through the carnage and stabbing wounded soldiers. The enemy would die as planned, and those members of the coalition that survived the blast would not survive for much longer.
What started as a line had fallen into a ragged arch. The Jaguar Knights, now lessened by thousands, pulled around the corners of the wall of the capital. With the extreme northern and southern ends of the front obliterated, they retreated towards the main gate. The battle line stretched out towards the coalition forces in the middle, but thinned to a point on each edge of the front wall. From above, the Jaguar Knights formed a crescent moon in defense of their citadel. Without resistance on the other three sides, the Serpent King stationed regiments a hundred paces from the walls. The coalition forces surrounded the capital, with one battle line left raging on the side of the main gate.
Khutan watched the action from a distance. He hid on the ground, covered in blood, the smell of death filling his nostrils. He tried not to move, to remain undetected amongst the pile of bodies behind the front.
The Serpent King gave the order to move forward on the dying and retreating Jaguar Knights. As the men of the victorious tribe ran towards the gate, Shane and the Serpent King sat on their steeds. The Serpent King removed a battered pipe from his tunic.
Khutan shook and shivered. He glanced at his target and down at his hands, willing them into action. He heard his father’s request play repeatedly in his head.
From beneath a dead man, Khutan removed an arrow from his quiver. The archers of the Jaguar Knights dipped their arrowheads in poison, which caused extreme seizures when they pierced the skin. He made sure not to touch the arrowhead as he maneuvered it into his bow, keeping it flat on the ground and moving with great deliberation. He crouched low, fifteen paces from the Serpent King. Khutan took a deep breath, turning his head to face the target.
“The tyrants are being penned like sheep in the field. It won’t be long before they retreat inside the city or give it up to us. Our mission reaches its conclusion,” said the Serpent King to Shane.
Shane watched him take a drag from the pipe and reached out to share in the herb. The melee had moved far beyond where the two men stopped, which put them out of immediate danger. However, men groaned and died at their feet. Bodies littered the ground, some piled two or three deep. The finest smoke could not mask the foul odors wafting up from the bruised Earth Goddess. Low bands of oily filth hung in the air above men’s heads, carrying the mortal remains of those incinerated by the violent explosions, dropping them on the barely living.
“When the gate opens, it will be impossible to control our men. They will ransack the city in a violent surge of humanity.”
“It is all the same to us. If you wish to claim spoils for yourself, you had best be at the foot of the gate when we knock it down.”
“I will, my lord. I have not traveled from the Eastern Kingdoms and across the Great Sea to stand back and watch the heathens stake claim to my coin and women.”
“Then ride, Lord Major Shane. It will not be long before Machek’s regiments fall. If you do not go now, the horde may take your share.”
Shane considered leaving the Serpent King without personal protection. A distant thought ran through his mind, a conversation overheard. However, his greed and desire for the bloodstained spoils of war filled his head like the intoxicating leaf. He saluted the Serpent King and rode his steed hard towards the front line, doing his best to avoid the piles of discarded humanity spread across the plain like trampled refuse.
Khutan watched the men in conversation, but could not hear it. The despicable Lord Major Shane rode off towards the gate, leaving the Serpent King alone on his steed, smoking.
Khutan mumbled words of prayer to his gods and goodwill to his brother and father as he moved his hand over the bow and placed the tainted arrow inside it. In one even, deliberate motion, he rolled onto his back. He paused and waited. He heard no cry or alarm in response to his movements, and felt the window of opportunity closing. Khutan sat up and notched the arrow in the bow. The Serpent King’s back was to him, providing a suitable target. Khutan inhaled, drawing the bow as his lungs filled with air. He felt the tension on the weapon and locked his elbow in place.
The Serpent King watched Shane ride towards the gate. He felt a presence, but could not determine the origin. The Dark One provided him with abilities not available to the common man, but they had begun to fade. The Serpent King did not panic. He recognized it as part of his cycle of existence. His days sped up and accelerated in bizarre ways as he approached the final one, knowing in his bones that his form on this plane would not last much longer. The Serpent King hoped to get inside the gate and slay the Redeemer before the Spirit called his essence back to the Plain of Miklin.
Beads of sweat ran down Khutan’s cheek and off his top lip. He licked at it, tasting the salty mix of perspiration and blood. His knees shook as though he stood in a raft, and he heard the rolling, distorted cries of the battle lingering beyond immediate reach. He turned his head in both directions and saw no other solider within a hundred paces. Khutan dropped the bow to his side, shook his head, and lifted it back into a state of readiness while the Serpent King emptied his pipe.
He released his two-finger grip on the arrow and blinked as a rush of air from the bow blew past his right cheek. Khutan could not see it in flight, but heard the smack of the arrowhead as it penetrated the back of the Serpent King. Most soldiers of the One World faced death, so few wore armor on their backs.
The Serpent King’s body lurched forward on his horse, and then straightened up in the saddle as if nothing had happened. For a moment, Khutan froze with his bow in hand. Morbid curiosity stole his thoughts. The Serpent King spun his steed and kicked it into a measured gallop towards Khutan. Fear rose like bile in his throat. Before he could stand and flee, the Serpent King towered over him.
“A well-placed shot, my young warrior,” the Serpent King said. The words fell from his mouth in short bursts. Khutan hoped the poison coursed through the Serpent King’s system. Most men would have dropped to the ground, paralyzed and breathing their last breath by now.
“I stay loyal to my blood.”
“Do not say anymore about others involved in this plot, or they will suffer like you.”
Khutan felt tears welling up in his eyes. He considered running, but knew the Serpent King could ride him down in a few strides.
“What are you going to do to me?”
The Serpent King ignored the question. He slid from the saddle and stood before Khutan, then reached down with one hand and grabbed the boy by the throat, pulling him to his feet.
“Pull the arrow from my back,” said the Serpent King.
He clenched his teeth and faced away from the boy. Stricken with fear, Khutan pulled the arrow from the Serpent King’s back. A wet, sucking sound ensued, followed by a fine stream of blood. Khutan threw the bloodied arrow to the ground at the Serpent King’s feet. The Serpent King turned around to face him. The drug had drained the color from the Serpent King’s face and made his heart race. Double vision swirled in his eyes.
“Bring your father here, to me, and I might spare the rest of your family.”
Khutan looked up and saw two men from the Serpent King’s caravan riding towards them. He recognized them as personal bodyguards and knew he had no chance of escape. A third rider came behind the other two, carrying a leather satchel and mug of ale. He stripped the leather from the Serpent King’s back and attended to the wound. The first rider grabbed Khutan by the arm and swung him onto his horse. The two horses and three riders sped off towards the front line in search of Zona and their master’s revenge.
***
Shane killed ten men on his way to the gate. He stood over wounded Jaguar Knights who begged for release beyond the Region of the Dead. These he left to suffer their wounds.
Shane witnessed members of the coalition running hard towards the retreating line in hopes of getting their hands on the treasures of the Empire, and brought them down with a powerful slash. He pulled his steed to a stop near the coalition warriors engaged with the weary Jaguar Knights. He was about to dismount and bath in the waters of violence when a messenger appeared behind him. He told Shane of the attempt on the Serpent King’s life and that all guards sought to detain Lord Major Zona and his entourage. His body shivered as an icy sensation crawled down his spine. Shane remembered the conversation he had overheard and felt his face flush red. He mounted and pushed his steed hard towards the northern edge of the front, as he remembered seeing Zona riding in that direction. Shane drove the spurs hard into his horse. He regretted not having slain Zona and Khutan when he had the chance.
The fighting decreased as he moved further north on the front line, as tiring and desperate men tried to hold their positions. The Jaguar Knights backpedaled as far as they could before retreating inside the walls of the capital. Shane hoped to reach Zona before this happened. He wanted nothing more than to ride through the gate, taking his pick of frightened and submissive women.
In the distance, Shane spotted a group of officers sharing herb, and he saw Zona in the middle of the pack. As Shane got closer, Zona tried to flee into the regiments, but Shane leapt from the saddle and landed on the back of the traitor. Bones cracked and protested under the struggle while the two men rolled to a stop. Shane sat on Zona’s chest, slamming a fist into the man’s nose and sending blood spraying in all directions. Zona lost consciousness. The fight had concluded before the other commanders knew it began. Shane stood and ordered them to bind Zona to his horse. He rode with his captive towards the man’s inevitable fate.
***
The sky flashed amber red. Ri felt pain but could not get her eyes to stay open for more than a second. A wet stickiness covered her face and chest. She heard a groan coming from her left, and forced her eyes open to peer in the direction of the noise. Her vision wavered as if she floated underwater. Cloudy shapes came in and out of sight, accompanied by swells of garbled sound. A shrill ringing filled her head.
Gishwan rolled onto her back and tried to open her eyes. When she did, they stung and watered, pained from the flying debris of the explosions. She saw Ri’s body a few strides from her own. Her mate’s limbs pointed in different directions and at awkward angles, and Ri’s head tossed back and forth, a bizarre blend of hair and dried blood.
Both women saw the blinding orb appear above them. While their eyes could not focus on the details, they felt its presence.
“Your lust for taking life will now cost you your own,” the disembodied voice bellowed above the ringing in their heads. Neither woman spoke. “You ignored the sign and lost the opportunity to come through the portal and serve me on other planes. Why have you chosen this path?”
Ri felt her tongue loosen, and for the first time since the force knocked them down, she found her speech. “We—we—we were not ready,” she said, coughing and splitting blood.
Maroon bubbles grew from her lips and burst, sending tears of blood down her neck. Ri felt her earthly body giving out.
Gishwan managed to pull herself up. She sat with her arms propped behind her torso for support. “It is my fault. Take Ri and leave me here to die the eternal death.”
“Neither of you will leave this battlefield. Your souls will burn with your cursed flesh,” replied the voice.
Ri and Gishwan moaned. Gishwan fell to the ground. Tainted blood oozed from both women. The glowing orb flickered and disappeared, and the booming voice fell silent. The ringing from the explosions filled their heads yet again.
Gishwan crawled to Ri and pushed hair from her face. Blood vessels burst in Ri’s eyes, and her nose was angled to the right. Painful gashes oozed blood, and she had lost several teeth. Gishwan thought back to her rescue. She remembered the care Ri had administered and their gentle nights together on the shore of the Great Sea. She did not want it to end now, but she had no choice. Ri’s breathing labored, and with every exhale, her lungs expelled a red mist. Gishwan removed a dagger from the sheath on her thigh, and climbed up to Ri’s lips to kiss them. Ri came in and out of consciousness, unable to complete a thought. Gishwan’s hand shook. She tried to hold the dagger to Ri’s throat, but trembled so hard that it fell to the ground. On the third attempt, Gishwan pushed the blade to Ri’s throat. With as much respect as she could conjure, Gishwan slid the cold blade across Ri’s neck. The escaping air created bubbles on Ri’s throat as the blood pumped from her body and onto the sacred battlefield. Her chest heaved one last time and fell still. Gishwan wept and held Ri’s lifeless body with a tight grip.
“Stand up.”
Gishwan raised her head towards the voice. She did not know where the voice came from or who spoke the words.
“I—I cannot stand,” she replied.
“Then you will die on the ground like a dog. I have seen your ways and I know who you are. The Serpent King lets your blood soak the earth, and the Dark One has abandoned you. The hunters of men’s souls have taken the last of their blood.”
Gishwan forced herself to focus on the profile standing above her, Lord Major Machek, commander of the Jaguar Knights. “Spare me your righteous speech. Plunge your sword into my heart and free my soul.”
“You will get your first request, but many others claim your rotten soul. When you reach the Plains of Miklin, know that it will feel like paradise compared to what awaits you beyond it.” Machek had his sword at his side. He raised it high above his head with both hands gripping the hilt, the point aimed at the chest of Gishwan.
“Fuck you,” she said to Machek.
He plunged the sword into her chest, feeling the blade pass through her heart and lodge itself in the earth beneath. Her eyes fluttered open, as did her mouth in a speechless gape. Machek yanked the blade backwards and slid it out of her chest. Gishwan’s eyes rolled back into her head, and her raspy breathing came to a ragged stop.
The Angels of Darkness’ broken and bruised bodies lay amongst the dozens of warriors killed by the bombs. Machek heard the screams of women deep in the recesses of his mind. The Dark One, enthroned in the bowels of hell, laughed. He welcomed the insubordinates to his kingdom of eternal pain.
***
“Here is the piece of shit that ordered your death, my lord,” said Shane. Zona struggled in his bonds with no chance of escape. The Serpent King saw that his men had beat Zona within moments of death, but he did not care.
“Cut him loose,” he replied. Shane dismounted and walked to the rear of the steed. With two slashing motions, he cut the rope with his sword, and Zona fell hard to the ground, still bound. “Cut the bonds,” said the Serpent King.
Shane stooped down, his face close to Zona’s. He smelled sour fear on the man’s breath, and leered at Zona like a heinous criminal. He slid the blade under Zona’s hands and cut the rope with an upward motion. Zona rubbed his bloodied wrists.
“The title of lord major did not seem to satisfy your lust for power,” said the Serpent King.
Zona struggled to his feet. His muscles betrayed his mind as he stumbled three times before being able to stand. “I know what you’ve unleashed upon the One World,” he replied.
“It’s almost over. All of it. I don’t care what you know.”
“Why do you feel the need to wreak havoc on a distant land, on lives of people you have never met?”
“The dark forces must balance the forces of light.”
“Sick rationalization. You have control.”
“Like you? Don’t your people consult their Book of Horoscopes? Aren’t you slaves to the destiny written in those pages?”
“To a point. We have the ultimate choice.”
“I guess you do. You chose to order your son to assassinate me. Remember, everything that follows is of your doing.”
The Serpent King motioned to one of the sentries. He ducked into a tent an
d came out with Zona’s son. The soldiers had blindfolded, gagged, and bloodied Khutan.
“Don’t you touch him,” said Zona.
The Serpent King leered at him and made another motion to the guard holding Khutan. The guard pushed Zona’s son away and, with one blazing motion, brought his sword across Khutan’s shoulders. For an instant, the boy stood still. As the soldier’s sword hissed through the air and came to rest on his other hip, Khutan’s head tilted back and fell from his shoulders. Blood shot up and out from his torso, and his knees buckled as his body fell forward into the dirt. Zona cried and ran to his son’s side. Before he could reach it, the Serpent King sent another command. The sentry plunged his sword into Zona’s abdomen, dropping him beyond the reach of his dead son.
“You have seen your son’s head removed from his body, and now you will die without being able to reach it.” The Serpent King kicked Zona in the mouth and spit on his face.
Shane grinned and bowed behind the Serpent King. He walked to Zona and bent down near his head. The man clung to life, sobs wracking his chest.
“You are an unworthy piece of shit. I should have cut your heart out the first time I met you.”
Shane stood and walked towards the Serpent King. He lifted a heavy rock from the ground and held it outstretched above his head before he brought it crashing down on Zona’s skull. A loud pop followed, and Zona’s body convulsed once. The man died, but that did not stop Shane. He continued to bring the rock down on Zona’s skull until nothing remained but destroyed flesh.
“Has the arrow poisoned you?” asked Shane, while wiping blood from his face.
“I am ill. I am not sure whether this body will survive, but it does not matter. As long as I complete my mission, I will not need it anyway.”
Shane nodded and took a swig of ale from his flask.
***
