Resurrected Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Three

by Simon, Joshua P.

  Good to know, I thought.

  “Go prepare the army, Tyrus. We’ll leave shortly. The High Mages can figure out how to fix their mistake on the road. I won’t be delayed.”

  I nodded, unsurprised. “Before I go, I have a question or two.”

  “Make it quick.”

  I waved my hand at the model. “This isn’t the fullness of your plan, is it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s just, I understand this took a great deal of effort to coordinate and think about, but this is only going to get us near Hol. I assume you had the mages scout the city itself and have thought about the battle against the Geneshans.”

  “Of course.”

  “And when are those plans going to be shared with me? Considering my role, I’d prefer to have a bit of warning on how the situation will be handled.”

  “After the transfer.”

  “Why wait? Look at what just happened with you withholding information from me about the transfer portal. I could have brought the issue up about those with a resistance all the sooner had I known your plan.”

  Balak wanted to argue, but it was obvious he saw the validity of my point. Still, his stubbornness held. He would not admit he was wrong. “We’ll have plenty of time to discuss those plans as the rest of the army recovers from the proximity to the artifact.”

  I gave him a sour look. We better.

  CHAPTER 36

  This is it. This is how it ends, Ava thought.

  They had barely slept. They ate while moving. Stopping to take care of nature’s call was interesting for her. She had to concentrate on layers of concealment spells all while trying not to piss on the clothes around her thighs. The tense focus of each spell was extremely counterproductive to the relaxation of urinating. Still, she managed.

  Then there was the fighting.

  They had killed another two dozen Geneshans, but not without casualties themselves, losing six people. Three more bore injuries that had already begun to slow their pace.

  That slowing was what had allowed a small squad from one of the pursuing armies to attack them as they cut through an old wheat field near a string of small hills. The same dead stalks, wild brown grass, and tumbled stone from recent eruptions they used to conceal their own movement, also provided ideal cover for their enemy.

  The Geneshan squad started with a minor sorcerer. No heavy hitter by any means, someone who once wouldn’t have been more than an annoyance to Ava. She managed to kill the sorcerer with one of the few attack spells she could muster, a small one best used on individuals, stealing the breath from his lungs. But by doing so, she had to temporarily drop her concealment spells. That allowed several other squads tracking them to catch up to their position. She had drawn her sword and fought hand-to-hand with the rest, unable to focus on many spells with her limited skills and the madness around her.

  What occurred at that point was what she had expected for some time.

  They began losing.

  Myra’s skills with strategy broke down when the fighting was close and personal. They were no longer sneaking up on people or having hours to plan for an ambush. This was act and react. This was when commanders relied on the training of their soldiers to take over and instinct to push them through.

  None of those under her command were really soldiers.

  Granted, many had trained under Tyrus, and several more had gained experience through recent ambushes, but none had fought in these conditions. The closest thing they’d experienced to their current situation was their run-in with raiders at Denu Creek, what seemed like half a lifetime ago. But even then, there were traps and archers in place to ease the strain of those on the ground.

  This is face-to-face and blade-to-blade.

  As she thought that, another soldier made a dash at her. An overachiever who carried two blades, sword and knife.

  The sweeping of the sword sliced through the air. She ducked, ready for the stabbing knife she knew would follow. She used her sword not to block the knife, but instead to strike the man’s wrist. The Geneshan let out a gasp as his wrist sprouted a fountain of crimson.

  She had to give her opponent credit. Despite her inflicting a major wound, the Geneshan brought his sword back around, dropping it low before sweeping it up in the hopes to connect with her torso all while the limp hand on his other arm dangled.

  She weaved to avoid the attack, managing to block it. He pushed into her with a shoulder while stepping in close. He didn’t have much behind the move though as he nearly lost his footing.

  She recovered quickly with a feint at the man’s head. He would have blocked that had she finished the move, but she turned the blade down and stabbed the exposed flesh of the man’s neck, just above the collar bone.

  He made a gargling sound as blood rushed up his throat. She raked her blade to the side, and twisted it free. He collapsed, his good hand moving to his throat.

  Ava spun to the sound of approaching footsteps. Her eyes widened as a sword came sweeping in toward her body. She brought her blade up, but knew that even if she managed to deflect part of the blow she’d in no way stop the full force of the strike. She just wasn’t in the position to do so. That meant she’d carry a debilitating wound, likely die in a day or two if she managed to survive the fight long enough.

  She knew all of this in the briefest of moments thanks to her experience. She also knew that if she was ever going to find religion, it would have been following the next moment as, miraculously, a spear point entered the side of the Geneshan swinging at her.

  Damaris carried that spear. The force of her charging thrust not only prevented the Geneshan from following through with his attack, but also sent him crashing to the ground as the point tore a hole below the man’s ribs. Damaris yanked the spear free ready to finish the enemy off, but the gaping wound was enough.

  Ava was glad the woman had taken to the fighting tips she’d shown her over the last few weeks.

  Damaris looked her way and winked.

  Just when you think you can’t like a woman enough, she does something like that.

  Yes, some would have thought the gods were smiling on them for such a reprieve. Ava wasn’t one of those to let wild emotions change a lifetime of thinking. She chalked it up to dumb luck and having the daughter of a former veteran nearby.

  “I owe you,” snorted Ava.

  “We all owe you,” Damaris huffed.

  A chorus of maniacal screams roared to Ava’s right. They both wheeled toward four Geneshans charging them.

  Ava hadn’t fought beside Damaris before. There had never really been a need to, let alone an opportunity. Yet, the two did well watching each other’s backs and taking advantage of the strength in each other’s weapons.

  Damaris used fast stabbing motions to keep the Geneshans from getting close with their swords. Whenever a Geneshan seemed off balance from Damaris’s spear, Ava zipped in quickly, slicing with her sword. In less than a minute, their four opponents were down to two. A few breaths later, there were none.

  They breathed heavy when the last fell. Ava swore she could hear Damaris’s heart beating. She definitely felt both the fear and excitement from the woman, a perfect mix of someone in battle.

  She learned how to cope with fighting, that’s for sure.

  They looked at each other, acknowledging the moment, but Damaris’s eyes widened at something behind Ava. At the same moment, Ava reacted to what was behind Damaris.

  “Nason!” said Damaris.

  “Zadok!” said Ava.

  They ran in opposite directions.

  Briefly Ava worried about Nason, but that ended when she saw her nephew struggling under the skill and strength of a much superior fighter. Zadok already bore a wound on his left shoulder that bled down his arm. He favored his right leg as well. Both hindered his movement, but thankfull
y Zadok was young. He could still dive and roll fast enough to avoid the larger swordman’s attacks.

  Ava wanted to yell for Zadok again, but she knew better. It wasn’t like he didn’t see the six and a half foot tall Geneshan before him. Her yelling would only distract him or warn the Geneshan of her approach, neither of which made sense.

  She arrived as Zadok rolled up to his knees and dove away from the Geneshan’s boot. He missed the worst of the attack, but the Geneshan’s foot still clipped him in the side.

  Ava raised her sword with her last few steps. She yelled then as the Geneshan was ready to finish her nephew. He faced her just as her blade came down. He deflected the blow, and the jolt of the blades meeting sent a tremor through her arm. Their swords parted. He countered quicker than Ava would have thought, and though her blade met his again, the sheer strength of the man’s attack knocked her off balance.

  Prax’s balls! I’m impressed Zadok survived this long.

  The Geneshan moved in fast to take advantage of Ava’s balance, but rather than fight her footing, she spun with it. She repositioned herself in such a way that her opponent not only missed his next attack, but she was able to strike at him, blade slicing across his back as he moved past her. He growled in anger, arching his back before wheeling around. He came at her, wild with madness now that she had injured him. His growl may have intimidated her at one point, as would have the charging, much larger opponent, but that point was more than a decade ago. Nearly everyone she had fought in her life had been bigger and stronger. Tyrus had prepared her to face larger opponents since day one.

  She sidestepped the Geneshan and stuck out her foot. He hit it and fell face first into the ground. Ava slashed at the back of his head, but the big Geneshan moved fast and her blade only found a small piece of his shoulder.

  He dove at her from his knees. She jumped back and clipped his outstretched arm, drawing blood once more.

  But when she landed, her foot struck a hole, and she too fell.

  She sat up fast, the Geneshan scrambling toward her. Then his face went tense, and he let out a howl. He spun and shouted a curse at Zadok. Her nephew held a sword fresh with blood. The big Geneshan sported a long cut across his lower leg that bled profusely.

  Ava wasted no time. She lunged. Her sword entered the Geneshan’s side, traveling up into his chest. She twisted and pulled the blade free. Her opponent collapsed.

  “You all right?” she asked Zadok.

  His eyes were wide, and he breathed heavily. He managed a nod.

  The chaos of battle continued. There was still fighting to be had and more opportunities for them to die.

  “Aunt Ava!” came a shout.

  Ava wheeled, panic squeezing her chest at the tone of Myra’s voice. Her niece ran at her with half a dozen men at her side. They all wore signs of battle—dirt, blood, and gore, coated their weapons, clothes, and skin.

  “What is it?” Ava asked.

  “I found a way to escape, but I need your help.”

  “How?”

  “Work every spell of concealment you can imagine on our position. We’ll protect you while we fall back to that hill,” she said gesturing to where other survivors already moved. Myra turned to Zadok, looking pained as she noticed his injuries. She recovered. “Help guide Aunt Ava back to that ridge. Be her eyes and ears so she can focus.”

  Ava wanted to know more about this plan, but she didn’t have time as another group of Geneshans charged their position.

  Ava began to cast spells while stepping backward. She nearly tripped which broke her concentration.

  She swore.

  Zadok grabbed her arm. “I’ve got you, Aunt Ava. Do whatever you have to do.”

  She gave him a look and saw his determination. He wasn’t quite as cheerful as usual, but he also wasn’t down or stressed like most would be.

  Confident.

  She removed her arm from his. “That won’t work. Your resistance will negate practically everything I’m trying to do.

  “I’ll lead then. Grab onto the back of my shirt. That should work, right?”

  “It’ll be better, but there’ll still be some fighting with your resistance.”

  “Just until we reach better footing. Then you can let go.”

  C’mon Ava. Focus. If this doesn’t work, we’re all dead.

  She grabbed Zadok’s shirt, did her best to block out Myra’s shouts, and said, “Start walking.”

  * * *

  Their group made it to the top of the ridge with only one additional loss and a few minor injuries. She had opted for a confusion spell over concealment. This allowed Myra and the six men with her to gain an upper hand over the disoriented enemy.

  Unfortunately, because she chose confusion over concealment, a larger army, one they truly had no hope of defeating, discovered their position.

  But Ava wasn’t worried so much about that at the moment. She was too busy looking down at a fast moving river from the ledge Myra had led her to. The survivors in their group, some forty or so people stood close around them, anxious, and frightened.

  “Is that the river we were drifting on?” she asked.

  “The very one,” said Myra. “We jump.”

  “Come again? Did you say we jump?”

  “We’ll need to leave some of our supplies behind since the weight will make it hard to swim, but our immediate survival is more important than our next meal.”

  “That’s crazy. We’ve got people wounded, and you want them to jump a hundred feet down into a river? They could die.”

  “They will die if we don’t. We still have Geneshans after us. If we make this jump, we’ll be in the clear. Maybe a few will follow, but certainly not everyone, not when they have supplies, animals, and prisoners to worry about. If we drift upriver some before getting to land, it will make it harder for them to find our trail again. With that extra time, you can redo the concealment spells away from any other sorcerers in the area.”

  The logic made sense, but Ava still didn’t like the idea of potentially bashing her head on a hidden rock below the water’s surface. A glance at the worried look of others said she probably wasn’t the only one thinking that. “These people aren’t going to jump,” she said low. “There has to be—”

  A flash of green zipped past. Then Damaris was falling through the air, dress billowing out. Everyone hurried to the edge and looked down just as she landed with a great splash in the river. She went completely under, and Ava held her breath. Damaris’s head emerged, blonde hair covering her face. She pushed it aside and waved one of her arms back and forth in their direction.

  Crazy woman.

  “See?” said Myra, managing the first grin Ava had seen in days from anyone. “She made it.”

  Ava was still ready to argue, saying they could meet up with her later, but then another blur went by and Zadok took to the air.

  Ava’s shout of warning caught in her throat. Myra gasped beside her, her grin disappearing. But a couple moments later, Zadok was bobbing along not far from Damaris.

  With two safely in the river, there was no longer any trepidation from others. Person after person took to the air, parents holding their young children as they jumped.

  “Molak’s sweaty crack,” said Ava to Myra. “I guess we’re jumping.

  CHAPTER 37

  The High Mages delivered. They figured out how to transfer those with a resistance after talking with Noam. They acted like the idea had been theirs almost entirely, but I heard from one of the wounded that Noam, all while still treating the injured, practically designed the entire spell the High Mages later wove into the transfer portal as well as the amulet those with a resistance had to wear in order to walk through it all.

  Packed close in a tight formation, the army stood on an empty stretch of road before the transfer portal. The loud, rapid popping that
usually preceded a portal’s appearance had been a loud boom due to its size. The sound seemed to have surprised even the high mages themselves as they, like everyone else, wrung out their ears with a finger.

  I had seen a transfer portal many times, but nothing as large as the one before us. The blue and white flash of radiance had coalesced into an oval of bright light that hung a few inches above the ground as usual. However, it spanned a distance of over one hundred feet across rather than the usual five to ten.

  The soldiers around me could not hide their apprehension at having to walk through the portal, especially those with a resistance like me. They shifted their weight back and forth on their heels, worrying the amulets around their necks while their eyes flicked about to see who go through first.

  The three high mages and Balak conferred at the portal’s entrance. It looked as if they too were deciding over who would test the portal’s effectiveness as well as the amulets themselves.

  I walked toward them. No sense in delaying the inevitable.

  But before I could volunteer and keep at my philosophy of not ordering a man to do something I wouldn’t do, Balak sent one of his personal guards in with High Mage Datan. I arrived beside Balak a moment later. He gave me a small nod of acknowledgement as we waited for the results.

  It was quite a thing to realize that an entire army held its breath in silent anticipation. I didn’t think so many people could remain so silent. After what was without a doubt the longest ten seconds of my life, Datan came back through.

  “He’s fine,” he announced, unable to hide his own relief. “Just a bit dizzy, and that seems to be wearing off quickly.”

  Everyone breathed a collective sigh. I swore I felt that release of air from thousands against the back of my neck.

  Balak didn’t hesitate another moment. “Move out!”

  The transfer took most of the afternoon, the army going through in companies of one hundred men. I had redistributed each group and even demanded that every company go through in the same formation in order to maximize the use of those with a resistance. The last thing I wanted was for someone to die because a person with a resistance couldn’t lay a hand on them in time once on the other side of the portal.