Champions of the Apocalypse

by Michael G. Thomas

  “Father, we need to get you out of here!” shouted Synne.

  Two Raiders jumped past the debris whilst the rest tried to drag the big warrior from the burning wood. Ulric stabbed the first into the chest whilst one of his youngest warriors flipped the second onto his back whereby Synne finished him off on the ground.

  “I know that man, I’ve seen him before somewhere!” shouted Ulric.

  “You two, clear a gap in the wall, we need to get Father to safety!” Ulric ordered as he fended off more attacks.

  The two men moved quickly to work, each of them hitting away with their weapons to create a gap large enough to escape through. As Galan moved backwards and towards the breach they were making, he spotted movement on the floor. Looking down he found Gratus, his mute bodyguard squirming on the floor. He reached down and turned him over. The wounded man looked at him in an odd manner. He tried to say something but as always, it was just a gurgle from the man with no tongue.

  “Gratus, come on, we are getting out of here!” shouted Synne as she blocked the attacks of another Raider who took his chances in the fight.

  The smoke was becoming thicker and it wouldn’t be long before they passed out from the effects. Galan reached down to help Gratus, he noticed something in the man’s hand, it was an icon of some kind. He tried to touch it and then in a split second spotted the glint in Gratus’ right hand. Before he could moved the mute warrior plunged a thin, curved dagger into the collar of Lord Galan. The blade pushed in deeply and a great spurt of blood indicated he had struck a critical blow. Ulric spotted the attack and turned around to help.

  “Father!” he cried as he clambered over the bodies.

  The large Raider was now on his feet and with a roar he pushed ahead, moving directly for the mortally wounded Galan. As he swung with his mighty two-handed sword, Ulric jumped in and grabbed it around the grip. He punched the man hard in the face, breaking his nose and sending blood in a fine spray across his cheeks.

  The hole in the side of the Hall was now big enough and two of the warriors were through and calling to Synne to get Lord Galan out of danger. With great effort, she and Maria dragged the man to the gap and started pushing through the breach. Behind them the last five warriors fought off five times their number, but with each parry or block another of them was felled by a blow. Ulric, still engaged with the mighty Raider continued a separate battle which none of the other Raiders would become involved in. By the time Galan was safely out of the building, only Ulric and Synne remained. The remaining warriors were, either safely through the breach, or had perished in the fight. Ulric punched the Raider several more times and then slammed him against the wall. He turned briefly and sighed with satisfaction as he noted his father was out of the building.

  “Synne, go!” he cried before turning back to the great brute.

  More of the ceiling collapsed and Synne was forced to jump backwards to avoid the debris. From her position, she could see the two warriors hacking away, Ulric was faster and more agile but the Raider was massively strong and his armour was almost impossible to break. An arm pushed through the break in the wall.

  “Come on, get out!” came the voice, presumably from one of the warriors.

  She turned back and could no longer see Ulric, just the flames and smoke from the fires. She paused and then dragged herself through the gap. As she lifted herself up, choking from the flames she realised she had simply moved into an even more dangerous place. Lord Galan lay on the ground, tended by two of his retainers whilst the rest stood along one side, each being watched by the Raiders.

  “What do you want?” she cried as she tried to reach Galan.

  Two of the Raiders grabbed her and held her away whilst more arrived through the main gate. Only a few people were left fighting, most were being dragged away in chains and many of the buildings were already burning.

  With a great crashing sound, the big Raider burst through the ruined wall of the Hall and stumbled to the floor. Ulric rushed out, an axe in one hand to finish him off. His first strike was perfectly timed, and arced down to the man’s hooded face. Just as it was to make contact, he was struck in the side by a spear from one of the many Raiders scurrying about the town. The blow was serious but it didn’t stop Ulric who lifted the axe and swung it hard into his attacker and easily removing the man’s head. He stopped for just a moment as he pulled out the spear tip from his flank and turned back to the monster.

  “Prince Ulric, Lord Ulric, King Ulric!” shouted the man sarcastically as he lifted a sword from the ground and stood up to face the wounded warrior.

  “Synne, how is Father?” shouted Ulric as he circled his enemy.

  Synne tried to move but the firm hands kept her in place.

  “I can’t reach him, it looks bad!”

  One of her guards slammed the pommel of a sword into her belly, she doubled up and dropped to her knees.

  “Shut, it little girl, and watch!” said one.

  The two wounded but still capable warriors fought with all they had. Ulric managed to deliver several heavy cuts to the man’s left arm, whilst he took a nasty cut to his leading leg. Both staggered on and for almost a full minute, they exchanged blow after blow.

  “Synne, your father is dying, he doesn’t have much longer!” called one of his retainers.

  Summoning all her strength, she lifted herself up and slammed into the guards. The first man was taken by surprise, and that was all the time she needed. Ripping the man’s sword from his belt, Synne slashed the man across the neck and rushed over to her father. As she moved, the rest of the prisoners tried to copy her example. Some were held back, but nearly a dozen broke free and a vicious, though very one-sided melee broke out. Synne managed to reach her father but it was clear it was too late, his eyes were open but there was no life left in them. She turned and rushed towards Ulric who was still fighting the massive brute. Two Raiders blocked her path but as she reached them one of the younger warriors jumped on the nearest and gave her the chance to get past. She kept on moving and before the great warrior could see what was happening she slashed upwards and cut a great chunk out of the man’s arm.

  “You bastard!” shouted the Raider as blood poured from the wound.

  Ulric was on one knee and at seeing the wound caused by Synne he jumped forward and kicked the beast of a man in the stomach, forcing him to drop to the floor. He tried to finish the man off, but was leapt upon by three more Raiders. Synne tried to move over to help but the nearest man lifted something and with a single movement the scene of battle vanished into darkness.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The sun had only recently lifted itself from the east and cast a dull glow across the ground. Long shadows stretched out from the slow, pondering column of carts, prisoners and riders. It was a sorry group, yet a number of men all carrying weapons, made their way around the group and kept them moving forward. Each of the carts was packed with prisoners of all ages whilst several more were laden down with booty, presumably taken from one of their many raids into the civilised lands of the South.

  Synne’s head felt like it had been pounded by a heavy log for the last hour. She must have been unconscious for hours, as it was now only just starting to get light. She looked about but her vision appeared slightly blurred, either from drugs or concussion, or both. As her focus returned, she could see she was in a large cage that was being carried on the back of a cart. Along with her were three others, all in torn clothing though only one she recognised from her own town. It was Jonas, one of her brother’s recruits.

  “Synne, you’re okay. I thought you were never going to stir,” said the man with a happy but strained smile.

  Synne lifted her hand to her head and the pain kicked in immediately.

  “Argh, that hurts!”

  “Shh, keep your voice down or they’ll come back over,” explained one of the other prisoners.

  The inside of the cart was filthy and the bars that kept them trapped were made from rusting iron that
looked suspiciously like looted fencing that had been welded or bolted together to form a crude cage. A large padlock the size of a man’s fist hung from a bar to the right on what was evidently the hinged gate. She looked back at Jonas, he was a little older than her, and at times in the past they had sparred against each other under the tutelage of Ulric.

  Jonas crept over to her side of the cage and after checking for guards whispered quietly.

  “They don’t want us talking, they killed one of the prisoners when we left for arguing.”

  “What happened?” asked Synne as she nursed her head.

  “I, I don’t know. The last thing I saw was your brother being dragged away in chains along with most of the other warriors.”

  “Is he here, is he still alive?”

  “He was alive the last time I saw him, but I don’t hold out much for his chances. They dragged the rest of us away to this group of Raiders before we could do anything to help. You’re lucky, you had so much filth and blood on you they didn’t recognise you, otherwise they would most certainly have killed you,” replied Jonas.

  “What about your family, Jonas, you have a wife and a new child don’t you?” she asked though dreading what he would say.

  “I don’t know, they are with my wife’s family at the Trading Post in Jackson. They weren’t due to come back with the goods caravan for another two weeks.”

  He may have been trying to stay calm, but the look of doubt and fear in his face told Synne it was playing heavily on his mind. She could easily see that this was a topic best avoided for the time being. Right now, they had more pressing concerns.

  “This group that has us, who are they? What do they want with us?” asked Synne.

  Jonas sat down but stayed close. The other two prisoners stayed where they were, each looking sullen and defeated.

  “They are Raiders, no doubt. Do you know what the weird thing is though?” he asked.

  Synne raised her eyebrow but said nothing.

  “Well, we were handed to these people by the Raiders that attacked the town. I saw one of the attackers handing them coin, weird because if they were doing it to sell prisoners they would be collecting, not paying.”

  “Maybe they had already done an exchange of some kind, the prisoners were just an extra. How about Haven? Is the town okay?”

  Synne’s question, though honest also betrayed a sense of doom about the answer. There was little chance the town was safe after such a devastating raid.

  “No way of knowing, I did see lots of smoke rising from the Hall and the library as we were taken away. I know a lot of people tried to escape during the battle but the city itself, I think it is gone now. I’m sorry,” he said.

  Synne was still, she almost looked dead until she caught her breath and sighed. She looked about the cart and then as if she had been kicked, shook herself into action.

  “Either way we need to get out of here, I will not be kept as a prisoner by these scum.”

  “Out?” said one of the other men as he overheard their whispered conversation. The nearest leaned a little closer but kept his voice low.

  “When we left there were two other men in here, where do you think they are now? The way we figure, it looks like they split everybody up and they are sending us to different places. These aren’t the people that attacked Haven, they are Raiders from the North.”

  Synne looked around, trying to work out where they were.

  “How do you know they are Raiders from the North?” asked Synne.

  When they come a bit closer just take a look at their clothing. They all bear the marks and equipment of the Northern tribes. We’ve met them before in battle at the Flatlands,” explained one of the men.

  Synne looked carefully at the guards walking alongside the carts and could just make out some of the markings and equipment. They were certainly distinctive but there was nothing she recognised, outside of the kind of gear any of the wandering tribes or Raiders might use, certainly nothing unique to this group. She turned back and whispered over to Jonas.

  “How long have we been on these carts?”

  “At least two days, maybe a little longer.”

  “Two days? I thought we had been attacked yesterday!” exclaimed Synne, though much louder than she intended.

  One of the guards moved closer to the cage and Synne did her best to look unconscious and groaning. The man watched for a moment before wandering off. Jonas leaned in a little closer and spoke quietly.

  “You have been drifting in and out of consciousness since after the attack. You’re lucky they didn’t kill you on the spot, something tells me they don’t want the injured for their plans. You were awake long enough for us to load you in here. You didn’t wake once yesterday, we thought you’d had it,” he said before sitting back.

  After a few minutes, Synne lifted herself up a little and looked ahead. From the side of the cart she could see the track was expanding into some kind of storage area. On one side was a small wood whilst most of the space was taken up with temporary buildings, mainly storage rooms and cylindrical tanks, probably for storing liquids of some kind. To the side of the thinly wooded area was a large wooden structure that looked to Synne like a form of crane.

  “Everybody out!” called one of the Raiders.

  As the gate opened, the four of them were herded out and into a group with more prisoners. Now that Synne was out of the cage, she could see the rest. A short distance in front of her cart, were another three, each packed out with men and women. The prisoners were pulled out one by one from their cages and forced to stand in three rows, all stood facing away from the carts. A dozen armed Raiders were scattered around the group and another three moved along the line with a bucket and ladle. They stopped at each person giving a small drink of water. A short distance away, there were three more Raiders, each of them mounted on a large horse, and carrying long spears. They moved slowly around the group, checking both on those inside and outside the perimeter. Synne watched them but deep down knew she could never outrun a horse and those riders looked like they knew what they were doing. Her head hurt enough as it was, the last thing she needed was a spear in her back. A dark skinned man with a scar running from his forehead down to his jaw stepped forward. He was flanked by two equally tough looking Raiders. Each man carried a curved blade on his side and one carried some form of firearm or folding crossbow in a sheath on his back.

  “I am Khan, leader of this clan. You are here because you are weak and because we are not. We are not far from the market now where we will move you on to our camps. Some will have the option to volunteer to join our fine warriors, others will be taken to the mines to work. Whoever is left will be traded with the slavers, perhaps for something more useful,” he said with a laugh as he walked along the line.

  As he moved, the other two guards moved along the group, checking each of the prisoners and determining where they would go. They pulled out the odd person, usually the ones that looked the tallest or strongest.

  “In time you will find our clan offers safety in numbers and strength, of which we have much of both. If you try to not follow orders, you will be punished. If anybody tries to leave they will be executed, on the spot. Understood?” he asked, as he stopped.

  “Now, who wants to volunteer to join our warriors?” he asked with a smirk.

  The two guards started pushing men and the occasional woman to the front, though a few struggled and tried to stay where they were. One man pushed back the guard as he tried to move him.

  “Stop!” barked Khan.

  He marched forward and stopped in front of the troublesome man.

  “What is your name?” he demanded.

  The terrified looking man muttered something.

  “Speak up!”

  “Uh, my name is Mathew,” he finally spurted out.

  “Mathew, why do you recoil from our warriors. Are they not good enough for you?” he shouted.

  The man made to say something, but a signal from Khan
was followed by a staff being struck across the back of his legs. He dropped down to his knees, crying in pain and humiliation.

  “You’re pathetic. We have a mine that is perfect for you to work in, well, perfect until you die!” he shouted as he swung his fist and struck the man in the temple.

  Mathew collapsed to the ground unconscious.

  “As you can see, we give you simple choices. Respect them and you will be treated fairly,” he said.

  Khan moved along the line and stopped at Synne. He looked at her for a moment, looking confused.

  “What is your name?” he demanded.

  “Jane,” replied Synne.

  “She is from the party handed over last night,” explained one of the guards.

  Khan reached out and examined her hands.

  “You’re not a labourer are you? Who are you?”

  “I worked in the library of Lord Galan, until you Raiders murdered him!” she said, though she was evidently trying hard to stay in control.

  “I murdered him? Ah, of course,” he answered with a smile.

  “You will be pleased to know then that the House of Galan is no more. Its lands have been forfeited to be split between the League and the Brotherhood, apparently,” he added.

  “I think the military would be perfect for you, don’t you think?” he asked.

  Synne made to speak but she was instantly punched hard in the stomach, she dropped down, retching from the pain.

  “Don’t think, don’t speak, just obey and you will live!” barked Khan.

  One of the guards started laughing as he pushed out two more prisoners to the front. Synne noticed Jonas was also at the front. He looked over to Synne, signalling with his face as to whether now was the time to do something. Synne turned her head, it was far too dangerous just yet. She moved her eyes up so Jonas could follow her gaze and spot the horsemen. As Jonas spotted them, Synne twisted her head, it was immediately clear to Jonas what she was saying.