“Just you rest,” Karus said, patting the man’s arm again. “Rest and drink plenty of water. That’s an order.”
“Yes, sir,” Mettis said. “Resting sounds good.”
The optio sucked in a breath, gave a heavy sigh, and then appeared to fall asleep. His hand went slack in Karus’s grip. Karus leaned forward and checked the man’s pulse. Nothing.
Mettis was gone.
Karus gently set the optio’s hand down and bowed his head, at first in what felt like defeat. He let out a long breath. Mettis deserved some words said over his body. It was the least Karus could do in return for the man’s service to the empire.
“Jupiter … High Father,” Karus said, “look after this man. He was a good soldier, husband, and father. See that he crosses over the great river peacefully. He deserves some well-earned rest.”
Karus rubbed at his eyes. His thoughts turned to Jupiter, his god. A lot had been asked of him and the legion. He could not see how he would be able to accomplish it all without some divine help. The least Jupiter could do was lend assistance, and so, he decided, it could not hurt to ask.
“Jupiter,” Karus said to himself, “oh great one, please help my legion. Save my boys before they waste away to this terrible plague.”
Karus lifted his head, feeling a terrible frustration. The prayer had not helped his mood improve. He regarded Mettis and thought of the man’s family. Life as a camp follower was not an easy one, especially for a widow. Mettis’s wife and daughter were now alone in this strange world. That would make it more difficult on them, at least until Vita found a new husband. That was, if she could find one. After the disease finished ravaging the legion, there might not be enough men to go around.
“His wife and daughter died last week,” Flaccus said, breaking in on Karus’s thoughts. “Dio told me, just before he went to meet with the refugees. I didn’t have the heart to tell Mettis.”
Karus stood, his gaze traveling down the hallway. It was a veritable sea of misery and suffering. The world in which they lived was a cruel and hard one … brutal even.
Karus rounded on Flaccus.
“This is a disgrace,” Karus hissed, anger taking hold. He took a step nearer the centurion. Karus pointed down at Mettis. “You were in command. These conditions are a bloody disgrace.” Karus tapped Flaccus on the chest armor with his index finger. “I expected better of you, Flaccus.”
The centurion’s lips drew together into a thin line and his jaw flexed.
“Well,” Karus demanded, “what do you have to say for yourself?”
Flaccus stepped closer to Karus, their noses almost touching. The centurion’s gaze bored into Karus’s and he lowered his voice in an almost menacing manner. “The legion doesn’t have the strength to man the walls and properly care for the sick. There are simply too many down. I barely have the manpower to make sure the men get fresh water and food. We’re just hanging on here, sir. I don’t know how much clearer I can make that. Now that you’ve returned, I am sure you can do better.”
Karus wanted to argue and continue to rage at Flaccus … but he knew the centurion was right. Flaccus was exhausted and, like the legion, at the end of his rope. In truth, Karus could not fault him, for he very much doubted he’d have been able to do better himself.
“Of course, you’re right,” Karus said, softening his tone. “That was unkind of me. Forgive me.”
Flaccus said nothing but took a step back. The heated look faded from the centurion’s demeanor and the exhaustion returned. “We may not be friends, but we go back a long way together. There’s nothing to forgive, sir. You’re just frustrated, as am I.” Flaccus gestured down the hall. “Mettis and the rest of them do not deserve to suffer like this … to just waste away. That’s not how a soldier should end his days.”
Karus could only nod.
“We are few,” Kol’Cara said, joining them. “Where we can, we will help, delivering food, water … making sure they drink, cleaning up even. If you will let us, that is.”
“What did he say?” Flaccus asked.
“He said they’re willing to help care for our people,” Karus translated.
Flaccus gave a weary nod of thanks to the elf. “We need all the help we can get.”
“Thank you,” Karus said, to Kol’Cara. “We both thank you for that kindness.”
“Bloody witch.” A man at the far end of the corridor had dragged himself to his feet and was pointing behind Karus, at Amarra. “She’s the cause of this sickness. She’s to blame.”
“As you were,” Karus shouted back at the man, taking two steps forward and staring daggers. He put thunder in his voice. “You will stand down, soldier. That’s an order.”
The man hesitated. He suddenly looked uncertain, glancing to his left and right for support.
“She has the camp prefect under a spell,” another shouted as he got to his feet next to the man. “We can’t have that, boys. Can we?”
“No,” someone shouted. This was followed up by a smattering of agreement.
“He’ll see the light,” the first man shouted, emboldened. “She needs to die. We kill her and we kill the sickness. It’s that simple.”
“I said, stand down.” About to storm down the hall and shake sense into the man, Karus found himself restrained by Flaccus. The centurion had gripped his shoulder.
Incensed, he looked back on Flaccus. Before Karus could say anything, there were more shouts. The call was taken up by others. Within just mere heartbeats it seemed the entire corridor had erupted in shouting, drowning out those still coughing up their lungs. Dozens of men, in better shape than Mettis, had gotten to their feet. Screaming their rage and spewing bile, they started shuffling forward.
“Oh shit,” Flaccus said, glancing around them, for enraged men were closing in from both sides.
Several had even drawn weapons, a mix of daggers and short swords. Karus’s heart plummeted, for he knew, without a doubt, the thin tenuous thread holding the legion together had finally snapped.
“On me,” Flaccus shouted to the men he’d brought to the palace gardens. “Protect the camp prefect!”
Chapter Nine
Flaccus pulled, half-dragging Karus backward toward the exit to the palace gardens. Karus resisted. Barely registering the centurion’s efforts, Karus put his entire focus on scanning the crowded hall for Amarra. Incredibly, she was ignoring everything that was happening. It was as if she were in her own little world and nothing whatsoever had gone wrong.
Farther down the hall, she was crouched by the side of a gravely ill legionary. Like many of the other men stricken low, he had been terribly ravaged by the disease. He was filthy and painfully thin. He appeared, like Mettis had, to be just wasting away, barely clinging to the last threads of life.
The breath caught in his throat as Karus abruptly realized it wasn’t just any legionary, but Junior Tribune Delvaris. The youth was the last surviving tribune, the only remaining aide to the legion’s late legate. Karus had adopted Delvaris as his own aide. The boy had shown promise. Now, he’d most likely die a difficult and pointless death.
Amarra was holding Delvaris’s hand in her own. She was speaking with him. Si’Cara was by her side. The elf looked grim and worried. She reached down to pull Amarra back to her feet. Amarra shook the elf off. Si’Cara tried again, more insistently this time. Amarra said something emphatic that, over the shouting and noise, Karus could not hear. Whatever had been said did not seem to please Si’Cara. However, for her part, she gave a reluctant nod of understanding and straightened.
Only feet away, a handful of enraged men had begun closing in on Amarra. The rest of those shouting had not yet worked up the courage to take action.
“Amarra!” Karus yelled, desperate to warn her as Flaccus continued to pull him toward the exit. His voice was drowned out. Karus watched in horror as one of the men with a dagger in hand and wild eyes reached for her. Her back was turned and she did not see the attack coming.
Thankfully
, Si’Cara had seen them. She moved like lightning. While bending at the waist, the elf spun and kicked out. Her foot connected squarely with the side of the man’s jaw, snapping the attacker almost completely around. He teetered for a moment unsteadily, then went down like a felled tree.
Without missing a beat, Si’Cara recovered and punched the next man in the face. She followed that up with a knee driven into his gut. He doubled over. She knocked him bodily aside, then drew her sword. Kol’Cara joined her and the two of them moved to shield Amarra from the growing attentions of the mob of men.
Having seen more than enough, Karus separated himself from Flaccus and started for Amarra. The centurion cursed and followed after him. Before Karus could reach her, two additional men, both with swords drawn, came forward. Si’Cara deftly traded a series of sword strikes with one, while Kol’Cara engaged the other. Almost simultaneously, two men rushed Si’Cara from the side and tackled her as she was trading sword strikes. She hadn’t seen the attack coming and was caught completely off guard. All three went down in a tangle of arms and legs.
A heartbeat later, Karus was there and amongst them. He punched the man holding the sword, hammering him hard in the face. He felt the man’s nose crunch as it broke. Crying out, the man dropped his sword and fell back, holding his face as blood fountained and flowed from between his fingers. At Karus’s feet, Si’Cara was struggling with the two who had brought her down. One was straddling her and had his hands around her throat. He was a large man and seemed hardly affected by the sickness.
Si’Cara’s face remained calm as she tried to protect her neck by digging her chin down into her chest as hard as she could. At the same time, she was trying to pry his hands, which were the size of meat cleavers, from her neck one finger at a time. Already, one of her attacker’s fingers was bent at a sickening angle from her efforts. But the enraged legionary barely registered the pain, so intent was he on ending her life. The elf began to gasp for breath and was clearly beginning to lose the fight.
Karus kicked him hard in the side. The big man gave a deep grunt and immediately released his hold on Si’Cara’s neck. Karus reached down and grabbed him by the hair, hauling him to his feet.
“Bastard!” Karus shouted and slammed the man into the wall. The man’s head made a sickening thud as it impacted with the wall and the breath whuffed out of his lungs. He slid down to the floor, spasming.
Si’Cara elbowed the other man in the throat. He gagged and rolled to the side. Flinging her body up from the ground, she launched herself at his prone form, viciously punching him in the side of the head. He collapsed onto his stomach, out cold.
“Take my hand.”
Karus held out his hand and pulled Si’Cara to her feet. She was bleeding from a gash along her arm and her neck was red where she’d been choked. Her ponytail had also come undone. Beyond that, she seemed all right, though winded.
Behind him, Karus could hear Flaccus and Kol’Cara fighting. Steel rang on steel. He glanced over and saw them facing off against three men weakened by sickness. A fourth man was already on the ground, mortally wounded and bleeding out from a bad stomach wound. Kol’Cara’s sword was bloodied. He’d also received a cut on the thigh.
Karus knew it was time to go. In moments, the rest of those in the corridor would surely attack. He turned to Amarra, prepared to physically drag her away and back into the palace gardens if needed. But something checked him and he hesitated.
“Jupiter’s grace …” Delvaris said. “I see it. I really do.”
Karus realized Delvaris was close to death. That thought saddened him greatly, for he genuinely liked the boy. He had personally saved the tribune’s life back in Britannia. Amarra was clearly offering him some comfort. But that still wasn’t what had stopped Karus. Something strange was on the air. He could almost feel it. There was something important going on here. He was sure of it.
The noise in the corridor seemed to increase in volume. It seemed like everyone who could muster the strength was screaming their hate and bile at Amarra. So far, only a handful had been bold enough to take action. Karus knew that would soon change. Mobs were like that. Eventually, everyone would join in and that was when it would really get ugly. Karus sensed that moment fast approaching.
“You see true,” Amarra said, her focus wholly on the tribune. Over the din of the shouting and screaming, Karus could barely hear her. “And so too is your faith.”
“Where are those men?” Karus shouted over his shoulder at Flaccus, who had just knocked a man down by slamming his sword hilt into his opponent’s face. Flaccus did not answer, for he was immediately engaged by yet another enraged man and was hard-pressed. Karus turned his gaze to the armed legionaries Flaccus had led into the garden. They had not moved from where they stood by the exit.
Oh, no, Karus thought. Bloody gods …
Instead of coming to their assistance, one, with a determined look, lowered his javelin and started forward toward Amarra. There was murderous intent in his gaze. The others, clearly suffering from indecision, continued to hold their ground.
Between him and the legionary, sword back in her hands, Si’Cara turned to face this new threat.
“You,” Karus shouted, pointing at the man and pushing past Si’Cara. “Stand down.”
The man stopped, looking uncertain in the face of his enraged camp prefect. He raised his spear and stepped back, mumbling something Karus could not make out. However, two of his comrades who had not moved earlier advanced, leveling their javelins directly at Karus.
Something hard hammered into Karus’s cheek, snapping his head to the side and staggering him. For a moment, he was disoriented and saw nothing but stars. Karus tasted the sweet copper tang of blood. He shook his head. There was a large chunk of plaster at his feet. Someone had thrown it.
Karus turned back to the two legionaries who were still advancing with the javelins. Hot wetness ran down his neck. He ignored it.
“All right, you treacherous bastards, come on.” Enraged and hurting, Karus drew his sword. The magical tingle was a flood, a torrent of energy rushing into him. Time seemed to slow, perhaps even stop altogether. The shouting ceased and so too did the pain. Karus saw another chunk of plaster suspended in midair and marveled at it.
Kill them all, the sword hissed malevolently in his mind. Give them some steel. Feed me their souls and together we shall grow in power.
Abruptly, time began to move again.
Shocked, Karus glanced down at the sword, which had burst into blue flame.
Kill my own men? Never. Even as enraged as he was, he could not bring himself to do such a thing. The two men with the javelins were mere feet away. Karus took a step back, realizing he may not have a choice in the matter.
A small clay lamp someone had thrown shattered at his feet. The oil caught fire and startled Karus. He had to hastily jump to avoid being burned. Immediately, the anger and outrage slipped away. The blue flames licking the blade went out too.
The lamp seemed to break the dam. Screaming and shouting even louder, the mob now pushed forward as a group, almost fighting one another to be the first to get at Amarra. Karus lost sight of the two with the javelins as the press of men moved in. He violently shoved back a man who had gotten too close for comfort. Karus smashed another in the face with a fist, knocking him on his ass and tipping over a latrine bucket in the process. The foul liquid sloshed across the floor and over Karus’s feet.
A hand grabbed at Karus’s arm, pulling him. It was Flaccus again.
“It’s now or never. We have to go, sir.”
“No,” Karus shouted back and looked for Amarra. “I’m staying.”
“You stay,” Flaccus shouted, “you die. The legion needs you, sir.”
“No,” Karus shouted again. “Not without Amarra.”
The ground shook violently. The shouting almost immediately died off as the building around them groaned like an old man rising from bed in the morning.
As the building shook a
gain, plaster, stone, and masonry crashed down from the ceiling. The floor trembled and then the entire building rocked on its foundation. Flaccus, along with many others, lost his footing and fell.
A large stone block crashed to the floor, killing a man two feet from Flaccus. The poor bastard had not even had time to scream.
Dust and debris raining down, the building shook yet again. Karus wondered if it was an earthquake. He glanced up as a large crack formed in the ceiling and saw a massive claw break through. Masonry was ripped and torn away. One of the dragons was tearing the palace apart to get to them. Again and again the claws tore at the masonry, pulling away whole blocks, making the opening wider. Then he could see the darkness beyond as a portion of the ceiling overhead was fully ripped away.
There was a massive roar of exultation that seemed to shake the palace even more. Karus felt fear descend upon him. It was like what he’d felt when the dragons had attacked the orc army. Though, once again, the feeling was muted. For everyone else, the fear was clearly overpowering.
Men fell back, collapsed to the ground, cried out in panic, and attempted to flee. Though for the latter, they were almost too petrified to move. Even the elves were not immune. Kol’Cara, sword in his hand, was shrinking back. Flaccus had dropped his weapon and held his hands over his head. The centurion was cowering against the wall.
Nearly alone on his feet, and bracing himself with a hand against the wall, Karus watched as the dragon continued to tear at the building, ripping away the floor above, working frantically to make the opening wider.
Foolish humans, Cyln’Phax roared in rage. Stupid, short-sighted men ….so typical of your species. In your ignorance and fear you would destroy the direct instrument of your god. You would harm the High Priestess, your only path to salvation. Fools, the lot of you. You disgust me.
A large chunk of the ceiling came away and the building stopped shaking. The dragon’s head could be seen above, jaws parting slightly. She leaned forward, sticking her head through the gap in the ceiling. Flame began to build in her maw as her gaze bore into the cowering men.
The First Compact: The Karus Saga (The Karus Saga: Book Book 3) Page 12
