Delvers LLC- Surviving Ludus

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Delvers LLC- Surviving Ludus Page 27

by Blaise Corvin (ed)


  Even over the stench of the filthy bandits and his own sweat-soaked gambeson, Cal smelled the coppery tang of the dying man’s blood. It was cloying, drowning out all other scents.

  Cal’s gaze locked on the dead man’s sightless brown eyes.

  ***

  “Cal?

  “Cal, are you okay?” Euphe asked.

  A hand shook his shoulder, drawing him out of his confusion.

  “What, oh… uh.” He turned, coming face to face with the bloody swordswoman and choked as bile rushed up his throat. Eyes bulging at her, he jerked back the other way, his gaze falling on the bandit whose blood had overwhelmed his senses.

  Gagging, Cal tried to fight the urge to vomit, but all he could smell was blood and death. Unable to hold back, he retched, puking his guts up all over the dead man. He started to wipe his mouth only to notice how the mess coated the gaping wound he’d carved in the bandit’s throat.

  Calvin vomited again.

  Falling to his knees, he gasped for air, drawing in more of the foul stench, causing his stomach to heave. He spat out the bile that rose up, gagging as tears flowed freely.

  “Ugh, that is disgusting… I think I’m gonna be sick,” Lydia said, quickly stepping away.

  “It’s alright, Cal, just let it out and you’ll be fine,” Eupheme said, gently rubbing his back.

  He stayed there kneeling over the vomit-soaked corpse until his breathing calmed enough that he could stand. Eupheme offered him a canteen. “Here, drink some water.”

  Nodding his gratitude, Cal wiped his mouth before pouring some water in. It took him a few minutes to clean up enough that he finally felt alive again, but once he’d finished, he noticed he was alone. Looking around, he spotted movement in the camp.

  Keeping his eyes away from the gruesome mess he’d made earlier, he grabbed his borrowed sword and cautiously moved inside. He relaxed the moment he spotted Euphe’s platinum-blonde hair among the huddled people.

  “Ah, Cal, nice timing,” she said, smiling sadly and waving him over. “These are the survivors of those rotting bastards,” she said.

  “Thank you for helping Miss Eupheme and Miss Lydia rescue us,” an older woman said, bowing to him.

  Calvin’s adrenaline had already crashed so he stood there awkwardly as the woman, who was probably in her early thirties and dressed only in a filthy shirt, greeted him like he’d personally delivered her from hell. Without the terrible rush of battle, he couldn’t hold back the sense of righteous fury welling up as he viewed the similarly terrible conditions of the other prisoners Eupheme and Lydia had freed.

  Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded at the woman, carefully ignoring the dark bruises on her face and neck. “I—I’ll just go watch the gate, in case they had any scouts out,” he said lamely, looking for any excuse to step away.

  I wish we’d had time to make these assholes suffer! He staggered away to the charnel grounds of the gate, even managing to recover six of his arrows, despite his trembling hands.

  ***

  Eupheme took charge of the liberated prisoners. Several of which quickly armed themselves with whatever they could loot from their surroundings. Once she had them helping search the huts for any valuables, she walked over to join Cal at the gate. “Are you going to be okay?” she asked quietly, laying a hand on his shoulder.

  Turning to meet her eyes, he shrugged. “I don’t know. I—where I come from, this kind of behavior doesn’t happen, well at least not like this. What we found in here, it’s worse than I’d ever imagined,” he said slowly, working to keep his mind calm. Getting angry, screaming and shouting, or worse, breaking down and crying, wasn’t going to make things better.

  “Our father told us stories of Earth when we were little,” Eupheme said, nodding toward her sister, who was currently organizing the remaining women. “He said this world had its worse parts, but also parts that were better.”

  “Yeah, I imagine he’s right, it’s just hard to see it right now. I can’t get the sight of that bandit I killed out of my head, or the thought of how barbaric those people were treating their prisoners. The worst monsters I’ve met since arriving to Ludus are humans,” he said, shaking his head. Now he knew for sure that when he’d been beaten, his attackers had meant to kill him.

  Euphe smiled sadly and squeezed his shoulder.

  Forcing his issues aside for the moment, Calvin straightened up. “Did you find Melody?”

  His friend’s hand tightened, her fingers digging into the quilted armor. “No, but she was here. One of the women who’d been here the longest remembered seeing her dragged in almost two months ago,” she said, her voice cold and hard.

  “She’s—” he started, but Euphe shook her head forcefully.

  “No, at least not that anyone knows, it seems like that rotting son of a grifter has connections with another group, some kind of wealthy dirt eaters that buy slaves.”

  As frazzled as his mind was, it took Cal a while to process what she’d said. When he did, he turned to face her and hopefully smiled. “That means we might be able to save her still, right?”

  The beautiful woman tried to smile too, but it was brittle and weak, not reaching her sad blue eyes. “Maybe? Hopefully.”

  “Well, if you still want it, I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

  “Thanks, Cal, I really appreciate it.”

  “Since you haven’t mentioned it yet, I’m guessing Rufus wasn’t among the dead?”

  She shook her head, sending her sweat-soaked blonde hair whipping about. “No. None of the prisoners know where he went, but apparently he took several of the more powerful bandits with him, including at least one mage.” The unspoken fact that the three of them had likely been lucky that the orb-Bonded bandit had been gone hung between them.

  “Shit. At least we saved these people,” he said, trying not to dwell on the thought that they weren’t really any closer to finishing this than when they started.

  “Yes, we did. And we couldn’t have done it without you,” Euphe said, sliding her hand down to capture his and give it a squeeze. “But for now we should gather everyone up and get them back to Clarkston. We should also let the guard know what we’ve learned. I doubt they’ve had enough time to summon a unit to attack this place, but we should still tell them as quickly as we can.”

  Nodding, Cal walked alongside the beautiful and deadly woman, focusing on how fortunate he was to have met Eupheme and her sister.

  The fact that she didn’t let go of his hand, even after joining up with the rest of the group, gave him at least one reason to be happy.

  Friends and Enemies, Chapter Eight

  With the last traces of daylight vanishing, tension grew as the group started back to town.

  They spread several of the armed women out, protecting the more wounded, with the children, mostly boys, huddled in the center. They’d crafted simple torches, which combined with the pair of working lanterns they’d looted, provided enough light for the large band to make their way home.

  Calvin was constantly searching about, eyes darting to every shadow or leaf blown in the wind. He thought the others had to be feeling the same, but he couldn’t see any sign of paranoia gripping them.

  To his surprise, the entire group made the trip back almost as fast as the three of them had on the way to the camp. Once they’d reached the clearing just south of the town, Cal finally started to relax. He sighed, arms and back stiff, his throat still raw despite drinking all the water he could stomach, but he knew the people they’d rescued were worse off.

  Listening to them murmur quietly when more of them recognized the familiar terrain, he almost missed the growing clamor from the north. “Cal, we’ve got more trouble,” Euphe said, her voice tight.

  “What? But we’re almost back now.”

  “Yeah, and I think we figured out where Rayburn took the other bandits,” she replied, glaring at the gates ahead of them.

  A shiver running down his spine, Cal looked ahead and his
breath caught in his throat. What he’d mistaken for the glow of lanterns, now looked like burning buildings. The single guard normally watching from above the southern gate was missing.

  The gate was still closed, which was going to be a problem, but as he listened more carefully, he heard distinct screams. “We have to help!” he and Euphe said at the same time.

  Despite the grim situation, they both quirked a smile at each other and nodded.

  Eupheme raised her voice. “Anyone who wants to fight is free to join us, but we’re going to see if we can help the guard. Hopefully, they already have this in hand,” the passionate warrior-woman said, drawing her heavily used sword.

  Cal didn’t wait to see who would follow; he made straight for the eastern wall.

  The slight cliff face surrounding much of the town made it easiest to enter from the north, but there was enough light coming from their torches, and the burning buildings ahead, that he could pick his away across the uneven field. People were right behind him, and he knew he’d see Euphe leading the pack if he wasted the energy to look back.

  Instead he readied his bow as they raced around the final corner and saw the northern gates, or what was left of it. The town’s defenses were designed to protect against monsters—goblins, horned wolves—not orb-Bonded and mages.

  He wasn’t sure what the enemy had done to tear the imposing structure down, but from the way it burned, Cal worried that Lydia might not be the only fire mage around. When they reached the gap in the wall, Eupheme rushed in ahead of him, and Calvin frowned, wanting her to be more cautious.

  They were all exhausted, and while he’d been conscious, he’d seen her fight most of the bandits in the first battle. She can’t handle all of this on her own, he thought. Fortunately Lydia wasn’t far behind, and she nodded when she caught up and entered the town at his side.

  The screams were much louder now. The further they moved toward the town square, the worse the damage was, too. He could hear the sounds of combat, the ringing and clashing of swords and armor, but had no clue where the fighting was happening.

  He gave up on trying to locate the source of the noise, and followed Eupheme, who clearly wasn’t going to slow down. Guess she’s headed to the square. Calvin glanced behind them, surprised to see just how many of the rescued adults were charging in—all of them, in fact. Did they leave anyone to watch the kids?

  Euphe raced around the corner, and Calvin cursed, struggling to catch up only to slam to a halt. Half the buildings around the square were on fire. Several people were desperately trying to put them out, or to help others escape.

  Euphe’s attention was riveted on the people standing in the center of the open square.

  Cal spotted Rufus immediately. He was a large, heavily tanned man, who looked to be in his thirties, though from what Cal had heard of orb-Bonded, that didn’t mean much. For all he knew, the man was two hundred years old.

  Rufus wore armor made of small bronze plates sewn to thick linen and held a wicked steel ax. I didn’t know he had a blessed steel weapon, thought Calvin. Around Rufus, most of the local guards lay battered and broken. Some were very clearly dead.

  Eupheme was rooted in place, glaring death at the man as he laughed and ordered a mage to set another building on fire.

  When Cal had first arrived to this world, and Thomas had taken him in, helped him out, the obvious skill and discipline of the all-female guards had impressed him. Now, the sight of them lying dead or dying at the feet of a bunch of cackling assholes sent his rage spiraling upward again. He was going to use his bow's full power on this jerk.

  “Oh look, boys, we’ve got more company,” Rufus sneered, having finally noticed Eupheme and the rest of them. He blinked, leaning closer and stared at Cal. “Well, I’ll be damned. That rotting loser survived after all. What’s with that stupid helmet?”

  Not bothering to answer, Calvin drew and took aim. He’d expected the brutal thug to flinch or even dive for cover, but Rufus stood still, smirking. Calvin wasn’t about to question his luck or hesitate, so he loosed his glowing arrow, aiming for the man’s unprotected head.

  The magically conjured arrow struck his cheek, and was deflected harmlessly away.

  “That the best you got, runt?” Rufus asked as his cronies laughed.

  “You done made a big mistake coming in here and attacking Rufus Rayburn,” a skinny female bandit said, howling with laughter.

  “What did you do to my sister?” Lydia screamed, drawing everyone’s attention.

  Most of the bandits leered at the lightly armored blonde, but their leader studied her more curiously.

  “Wait… sister? That silly little bitch that begged me to take her on as an adventurer?” he asked, a grin slowly spreading across his ruggedly handsome face.

  Cal felt the twins’ rising anger, wanted to charge the horrible man himself, but held back.

  I knew he was tough, but there’s not even a scratch.

  “What did you do to Melody?” Eupheme asked, her voice colder than her sister’s.

  Continuing to grin, Rufus shook his head slowly. “Damn, if I’d known there were three of you beauties, I’d have held on to her longer.

  “Bet I’d have gotten a lot more for the complete set.”

  Euphe screamed incoherently at the orb-Bonded man, while Lydia threw a bolt of fire.

  That at least got his attention; the powerfully built bandit raised his arms to shield his face. The magical fire crackled and hissed, but when it had burned out, Rufus lowered his scorched sleeves and glared at Lydia.

  “You shouldn’t have done that, you rotting washer. I was planning to go easy on you and your sister, maybe even reunite you with that snarky loudmouth, but now I gotta hurt you.”

  Rage built within Cal as Rufus casually threatened the shy, prickly mage. No way am I letting this asshole keep hurting people. Especially these two! Not sure what to do, Cal drew an arrow, nocked it even as several bandits snickered, and then called up his magic.

  Everyone fell silent when a globe of total darkness materialized around him. He anchored the spell on the arrow before shooting it at Rufus. This time, instead of aiming for the man’s exposed skin, he targeted the leather pouch at his belt.

  The women they’d freed earlier took that as the signal to attack. Screaming, they charged recklessly at the surprised bandits. Some survivors from the town had apparently been hiding, waiting for a chance to strike, because they ran out too—most were armed with farming tools and axes. Eupheme said something, but Cal couldn’t understand over the din of battle. Lydia must have heard it, though, since both sisters advanced at the same time, sticking close together.

  Calvin looked about for another open target. The magical globe he’d generated surged back and forth as Rufus tried to escape it, not realizing it was attached to the arrow that was attached to him. Calvin didn’t know how long the murderer would take to escape the darkness, but he wanted to start evening the odds.

  Most of the thugs had closed with the raging ex-prisoners, but he spotted two hanging back and waving their arms. His arrow took the leftmost one, the fire mage, in the stomach. The unarmored man screamed in shock and crumpled to the ground.

  The other one, a woman, whom Calvin assumed was a mage or ‘Bonded, ducked behind a brawling group and broke line of sight.

  Unable to get another shot at either of the mages, he nocked another arrow and watched impatiently for a safe shot. As he monitored the chaotic melee, Euphe rushed toward the darkness surrounding Rufus.

  Wish I’d thought to practice using Darksight and globes on her. Actually, can I even do that? I know a lot of RPGs only let you buff yourself, or your own stuff, but this isn’t a balanced game—world, right?

  He shook his head and focused on the bandits closest to Rufus as the silver-haired warrior-woman rushed in. Rufus finally figured out how to escape the magical darkness; he’d thrown the enspelled arrow behind him just before Eupheme reached him.

  The big man’s eyes wid
ened in surprise, but he got his left arm up in time to block her powerful overhead strike. His armor softened the blow, but Euphe growled in triumph as the blade sliced through and struck his skin. Then she winced.

  Calvin could tell she hadn’t done any real damage to the man. He watched in dread, his stomach roiling as the swordswoman danced around the large orb-Bonded, dodging as he repeatedly swung a heavy ax.

  Even to his completely amateur eye, Eupheme was the more skilled fighter, but Rufus was crazy strong, whipping his heavy steel weapon around like it was made of foam. Somehow, Eupheme hung on, avoiding his swings, dodging or deflecting them away with her shield.

  Unfortunately, Cal thought her shield itself was looking increasingly battered.

  Calvin wanted to help, but he didn’t know what to do. There weren’t any clear shots at any of the other bandits, and his arrows had had no effect on Rufus. He’s that strong, and can shrug off arrows to the face? How do we kill this prick?

  Between the screaming of the fighters, the wails of the wounded, and the clash of armed combat, Cal couldn’t hear anyone speaking, but Rufus opened his mouth, saying something that had Eupheme shaking with rage.

  Having forgotten about Lydia in the heat of battle, Calvin flinched back when the fire mage rushed past him, almost shoulder-checking him. He’d barely turned to see what she was running from when a bandit wearing a bloodstained gambeson ran past too.

  Acting on instinct, Calvin stuck his foot out and grinned as the tunnel-visioned bandit tripped, crashing down face-first on the hard ground. He dove on the man’s back the moment his mind caught up, dropping his bow and fumbling for the bronze dagger he still carried.

  By the time he had hold of the weapon, the bandit was shoving him off. Calvin didn’t bother trying to pin the man, he just slammed the sharp blade home into the closest, easiest target he could find, the bandit’s unarmored inner thigh.

  Having found an outlet for the rage and terror threatening to steal his consciousness, Cal pulled the blade free, eliciting an agonized screech, then slammed back in. He kept stabbing the man over and over, mechanically, as blood sprayed and splattered, soaking him.

 

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