Champions of the Apocalypse

by Michael G. Thomas

  Keeping low, he moved ahead along the bank of the river, always keeping his head down and listening for any signs of trouble. Every few minutes a head would pop up above the palisade wall to the north, presumably checking for intruders that might approach the entrance further along the base. They seemed very edgy, much more than he would have expected from a people that apparently controlled this entire area. As he moved a little closer, he could see the large wooden shed that rested near the rail tracks. It was the largest building in the entire place, apart from high tower at the end of the fortress-like Citadel. That building was the only structure he recognised as in the past it had been the home of a stage post and look out station for the Trading Post. Since then though, it looked as if it had been expanded and fortified into more of a military compound. A very different role for what used to be a peaceful place.

  Just one large pile of rocks on the left bank of the river now stood between him and the outer wall of the base. With a final look for signs of the Raiders, he climbed over them and approached the bridge from below. Then he spotted two men stood chatting and directly in his path. One carried an oil lamp whilst the other scratched at his leg with a heavy looking mace. Thrax ducked back down, swearing quietly to himself.

  “I’ll have to wait till they move away,” he said quietly whilst looking about for any other way inside.

  * * *

  Synne and Jonas had left the first prison and were making the short trip around the back so they could reach the side entrance of the other building. From the outside, it appeared to be made in the same design. It was large, easily big enough for a hundred people and like in the first building, the windows were blocked off with substantial and extremely sturdy metal bars. As they rounded the corner, a man approached with a sack on his shoulder. The two stood completely still and waited in the darkness as he passed.

  “That was close,” whispered Synne.

  Jonas looked to the right and the left, making sure the route was clear. He turned to Synne.

  “You don’t say!” he said sarcastically.

  Synne nodded for them to move and they gently went forward to the wall of the building. The entrance was only a few feet away and with great care they approached each side of the door, doing their utmost to avoid standing directly in front of it in case there was anybody inside looking out. Synne moved to the left of the entrance whilst Jonas took the other side. They already had their swords drawn and held down very low to the ground to avoid any glinting or reflection that might be seen in the camp. From their position, they could see the small number of patrolling guards making their way around the base. At this time of the morning, they were still carrying their torches and the orange glow they emitted provided a handy signal as to where they were. Jonas moved up and waited next to the wooden frame whilst Synne braced herself.

  “Ready?” she whispered.

  Jonas nodded and with a single kick, he smashed through the door and without pause or hesitation, Synne was inside. There were three men waiting there, two guards, both of whom carried maces and one other who was smoking a cigar of some kind and holding a bag on his shoulder. The two guards wore the usual modified metal and rubber armour, though one of them was half-covered by a dark robe that hid his left side.

  The man with the cigar jumped back and avoided the first slash delivered by Synne. He was faster than the other two and just that one move told Synne he was the most dangerous. He staggered back and the bag fell to the floor with a loud crashing sound. As he moved back, the two guards were then exposed to the full fury of the attack. Before the men could respond, Jonas stabbed the first through the face with his blade. The weapon punched through and embedded in the skull with a sickening sound and knocked the man backwards and then down to the floor. The second was quicker though and managed to strike at Synne before she could strike. As she rushed forward, the guard swung his mace and she was forced to parry the attack with her own sword, stopping the mace just inches from her face. The mace was heavy and a lesser blade could easily have shattered at this point. She didn’t wait to congratulate herself though, and with the weapons locked she could see the confidence in the man’s eyes at fighting in grappling distance at a mere woman. The thought angered her even more and with all the energy she could muster, she kicked hard at the man’s legs, forcing him to buckle down. As he dropped to one knee, she followed up with her other leg, slamming her heavy leather boot into the man’s jaw and sending him sprawling to the floor.

  “You animal!” she screamed.

  Bending down she was about to finish him off when she spotted something. She glanced quickly to the entrance and spotted a bright orange light moving towards the door. It was still open, revealing the ongoing battle to anybody who might pass. It must be an approaching patrol.

  “The door!” cried Synne.

  With her attention diverted from the battle, the man on the ground had managed to drag himself up and grabbing his fallen mace, he tried to strike her torso. She turned in time to spot him but could only jump back to avoid the attack and stumbled hard before hitting the wall. Shaking her head, she lifted her sword. The man rushed towards her, repeatedly striking with the mace. She ducked and parried, looking desperately for a chance to strike back but all the time his attacks forced her on the defensive.

  In the middle of the room, Jonas was still struggling with the man he had just killed. With his foot on the dead man’s head, pulled hard to release his blade and then turned for the door and the increasingly bright orange glow.

  “I’m on it!” shouted Jonas as he reached out to pull the door shut.

  As his hand grasped the rough wood of the door, an arm appeared from outside and grabbed him.

  “Synne!” he cried but it was too late.

  With a hard pull the man outside yanked him out onto the floor where he hit the ground in a crash of dust. He tried to cry out but many hands pulled at him and one of the men outside slammed his fist down into his stomach, instantly forcing the air from his lungs. Inside Synne was fighting a desperate battle with the second guard whilst the man with the cigar had picked up the mace from the fallen man and was moving around Synne, trying to get around her back.

  “Jonas!” she cried but there was no response.

  With the sound of the battle now rousing the prisoners in the building, they started shouting from both worry and excitement. The noise was the last thing Synne needed though.

  “Who are you?” asked the man with the short, fat cigar still hanging from his mouth.

  Synne stabbed towards him but he sidestepped and swung his mace towards her chest. As it came towards her, she wrapped her left arm around his forearm and locked the weapon. Unable to move the man panicked and tried to regain control of his weapon.

  “None of your damned business!” she howled.

  The other fighter came rushing in, striking wildly but this just made Synne’s job easier. With a tug, she pulled the cigar-chomping Raider into the other man’s path. The mace bit down hard into his head and the entire group smashed out through the door and into the dirt outside. The sun was still low but already it was starting to lighten. As she hit the ground, she noticed a large group of men in dark clothing, probably guards. She tried to get up but a thick, black boot pushed down on her wrist and pinned her to the floor. She looked up at her assailant, a large man who wore iron armour on his shoulders and chest and had specially fashioned vanguards and braces of thick rubber on his arms and legs. She looked at the man’s face and spotted a flicker of recognition.

  “Synne?” he asked in surprise.

  “Synne, who is she?” asked one of his more senior henchman.

  “She is the daughter of Galan,” he cried loudly.

  Synne recognised his voice immediately.

  “Cainon! You bastard!” she swore.

  The large man leaned down whilst more Raiders appeared to secure the position. Most of them carried hand weapons whilst two carried some kind of improvised firearm. The end of the weap
ons pushed out into what looked like a metal funnel. As he reached closer she could see his scars and tattoos, it was definitely him, the warlord of the Brotherhood and the man she had met back in the inn at Haven.

  “I should have finished you off when we last met!” he growled.

  He stepped back and looked about, expecting to see a horde of cavalry or warriors charge in to save the day. Nothing happened though.

  “On your own and with no friends, just like your whelp of a father!” he added with a roar of laughter.

  “Come here!” she said in an almost pleading tone.

  Cainon, intrigued by what she might have to say came closer, two of his men kept her pinned down though, just in case. Summoning as much effort as she could muster, Synne lifted her head and spat in his face. Cainon jerked back, the spittle dripping from his chin. He lifted his left arm and struck her hard with the back of his fist. The powerful blow knocked her out easily and she slumped down to the floor with a thud.

  “Bitch!” he swore.

  Cainon signalled to one of his men to lift her up. This warrior was also wearing the garb of the Raiders, though a careful glance would reveal markings of the Brotherhood under his robe. As he moved over to assist, two more moved over to join him.

  “Take her to the Citadel and put her with her brother. I’ll be along shortly for a little chat,” he said with a snigger.

  The man nodded and lifted Synne to her feet but still keeping a firm hold of her hands. She was already starting to stir so the other two lifted her feet and between them they carried her along the path and towards the fortified Citadel high at the rear of the town. As they moved off, they left a dozen more men and the still restrained Jonas who was shouting and ranting, much to the amusement of the rest of the Raiders.

  “You bastard! Why are you working with the Raiders?” shouted Jonas.

  Cainon moved closely to him and started laughing. At this distance, Jonas could make out the detail on the scars along his face. His clothing was marked with untold stories of violence and battle.

  “Who said anything about working with them?” he said as he turned and looked to the rest of the Raiders.

  The group all started to laugh and one man, the closest to the right of Jonas pulled off his dark robe. Beneath it, he wore the black boiled armour of a warrior. The marking on his chest plate were of the Brotherhood, in particular the clan of Lar. With the man revealed to be what he was the others did the same and in just a few moments Jonas was silent, dumbfounded by what he saw.

  “We are the Raiders!” said Cainon, as he continued laughing.

  One of his men stood in front, waiting for orders.

  “Sir, the perimeter wall is secure, there are no signs of intruders, it must just be them,” he said.

  “Really,” he replied to the guard before turning to Jonas.

  “Why are you here, little man?”

  Jonas looked at him with nothing but anger in his face.

  “Ah, forget it,” he said with a laugh.

  Cainon turned back to the guard.

  “Put him with the rest of the prisoners, I’m sure we can find something for him to do.”

  He moved closer to Jonas as he was being dragged up.

  “I’ll get the information out of little Synne, I’m sure we’ll have a real party with her!” he said with a snigger.

  Jonas tried to break free but the guard holding him struck him in the stomach, forcing him to the ground and to silence. Lifting him up they proceeded to drag him towards the first prison building that they had only so recently been inside of. Cainon was already halfway to the Citadel and just four guards remained to ensure Jonas was secured in the prison. The rest returned to their guard duties on the outer walls. One of the men, a slightly shorter Raider compared to the rest, entered the prison first and immediately became suspicious when he could find no sign of the guard.

  “Maloc,” he called, “where are you?”

  The other three had already hauled their prisoner inside when the door slammed shut behind them and trapping them all in the prison.

  “Look out!” shouted the man nearest the door.

  It was too late though, one of the many released prisoners wrapped his chains around the man and dragged him to the floor. He kicked and struggled but there were plenty of willing hands to grab him and pull their oppressor into the darkness. The other Raiders suffered the same fate and in just seconds all four of them were on the ground and pinned to the floor by dozens of starved but vengeful prisoners. Recognising Jonas, the shrouded figure of Eric stepped forward and ordered his release.

  “What’s happening? We heard some kind of struggle outside,” he said.

  Jonas coughed but did his best to silence the noise.

  “They, they took Synne to the Citadel, we are never going to get near the engineers.”

  One of the other prisoners came forward.

  “I know where they keep the prisoners in the Citadel.”

  Eric turned to the man and spoke quietly to him for almost a minute. Jonas, becoming more frustrated finally interrupted them.

  “Come on, we need to do something!”

  “Listen, my friend. My brother here knows a service entrance that is used to deliver water and food into the Citadel. We can get a few people inside but I don’t know how we can get everybody else out of the base.”

  “Maybe I can help,” came a hoarse voice from the shadows.

  A tall men stepped into view from the side wall.

  “Thrax?” asked Jonas in shock.

  “Indeed. And it looks like I am going to have to save your necks once again!” he said with a chuckle.

  Jonas moved up to Thrax though he had a look of doubt or suspicion on his face.

  “How did you get inside, the place is guarded?”

  “Well, the one good thing about your arse of a plan is you made such a fuss you peeled the guards from the perimeter, giving me just the chance I needed to get inside,” he said with a hint of a grin.

  “Now, where is Synne?” he asked.

  Jonas put his face in his hands and started to pace the room.

  “The Brotherhood, they, they took her!” he cried.

  Thrax stepped closer, pushed his arm out and stopping Jonas.

  “Brotherhood?”

  * * *

  It must have been at least an hour, maybe more before Synne woke. The first thing she noticed was the bright light coming in through the barred window high above her. She must be on her side though, as the dark room looked the wrong way up. As she sat up her head started to swim and she felt she would vomit. She opened her eyes and tried to steady herself. The room was small, more like a storage room and empty apart from the dust and straw. The only light was that coming in from the barred window and though it was bright it only lit a small rectangular section in the middle of the room. The walls were all bathed in shadows and from where she sat, it was impossible to tell if she was alone or with other prisoners. She moved a few inches before the rustle of metal indicated the chains locked around her arms.

  “Oh great, back in a cage!” she muttered.

  Something moved in the corner of the room and she tried to move away but found her hands chained to a ring on the wall and the minimal movement they offered gave her no chance to move to safety.

  “Stay away!” she growled in the direction of the sound.

  No sooner had she spoken that the sound disappeared and the room reverted to its previous quiet state. For a second she thought it may have all been in her mind.

  “Synne, Synne?” asked a hoarse voice.

  “Who is that?” she asked though certain she recognised the tone.

  “It’s me, Ulric.”

  Synne pulled hard on her chains but no matter how hard she pulled, she couldn’t get any closer. After one final tug, she dropped down and looked over to the man in the shadows.

  “Ulric, is it really you?” she pleaded.

  Before a response was forthcoming, a large door to the
side creaked open. A dull light poured through and lit up the room. She glanced briefly about the room, spotting at least five other people chained up along the walls.

  “It’s time we had a little chat,” came the booming voice from her hated foe, Cainon.

  “You bastard, Cainon. Why have you done this? We are allies!” she shouted.

  The tall man stayed where he was and waited whilst two men in body armour entered the room and removed her chains. They forced her to her feet and pushed her towards the doorway.

  “Synne!” shouted the prisoner.

  Once everybody had left the room it was just Cainon stood there in the light. He looked around the room and then directly at the man who had been shouting.

  “Don’t worry about your little sister Ulric, we’ll take really, really good care of her!” he said.

  He turned and stormed out of the room to the sounds of shouting and screaming from the tiny prison.

  * * *

  Jonas and Eric were dressed in the captured garb of the Raiders and carrying the looted weapons. They walked casually along the road and towards the wide building just a few hundred feet from the Citadel. As they approached, they spotted Thrax who had already taken position in the undergrowth near the locked door at the front. Eric stopped a few feet short of the door and turned, giving the impression he was guarding the place. At the same time, Jonas moved over to Thrax and into the cover.

  “We’ve checked the route behind the prison, you’re right, Thrax. There are only three guards between the buildings and the storage sheds with the train.”

  “Good, you ready for this?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I’m ready,” he said though Thrax didn’t look overly convinced.

  Staying as low as he could, Thrax crept to the door and inserted two pieces of metal into the heavy lock. One of the tools was a simple metal rod with a twist at one end. The other item was flatter and he placed this near the entrance of the lock to apply pressure.